Hēafodweard, Sē Þridda: Sē Blacan Cniht

Two and a half years earlier...

Etheigh peered through the window out at a tree which, in defiance of the time of year, still dared to cling to the last of its leaves. Like the setting sun, it would, any day now, finally choose to give up and die for the oncoming winter. He'd been having a lot of poetic thoughts like that lately, whether due to Gorthy, the Old Equish class he was taking, or some combination of the two.

“Þæt is trēow, Hālriht,” a mare’s voice giggled. “Þæt antācnungblæd is hērofer.”

In the small study room tucked away in a corner of the university library, a purple mare sat across from Etheigh. To the average onlooker, she would seem like just another freshpony or sophomore who was probably not from the city, much less province. A mare whose box-glasses, slightly unkempt mane, and even front sweater screamed bookish.

“What sayest thou, Twilight?”

“That’s a tree, Holright,” she giggled again. “The note card is over here.”

“Right. That tree just won’t give up the ghost.”

“Hit sċēatt and grēwþ his bladu in þǣre rihtan tīde.”

“...Please tell me that thou talkedst not just now rudely about using the restroom in Old Equish,” he deadpanned.

Twilight theatrically rolled her eyes. “Sċēatt is the root of ‘sheds’. I was saying ‘The tree will shed and grow its leaves at the right time.’” In a very serious tone accompanied by a hoof waving as though to correct a foal, she continued, “If I was saying what you think I said, I would have said sċāt.”

“Taught Doctor Yoreday that to thee?”

“Yes, actually. I spent about an hour in his office learning curses three weeks ago.”

“Thou jestest.”

“Nope.”

A beat, and then both began laughing like foals looking up bad words in the dictionary. “I should write a letter of protest!” he cackled. “‘Chancellor, my tuition is going to Twilight learning curse words!’”

“It’s either that...!” she howled. “Or me coming up and asking, ‘Princess Celestia, what did ponies mean when they said sċītan a thousand years ago?’” In a voice that threatened sacrilege, the pitch of her voice lowered, and gained a sort of breathiness. “‘Twilight, my dearest student, you’ve just come into my chambers and asked me what ‘to shit’ means.’”

He hit the table with his hoof, almost crying in hysterics at that image. This mare coming up to the mare, and asking what some word means, completely oblivious she just swore to Her Radiant Majesty! Oh, how embarrassed one would have to be!

After having their immature moment, the two began to calm down. Etheigh caught his breath and wiped his eyes, watching her do the same.

This was no average freshpony or sophomore, or even a freshpony or sophomore. This was Twilight Sparkle. A mare a full year younger than Etheigh, but who already had a graduate degree in Arcanic Matrix Theory (which he failed to understand, despite attempts at explanation), and was positioned to become a doctor in a couple of years. Most importantly, she was Her Radiant Majesty’s personal student. Not her acquaintance. Not her formal pupil in a school of thousands.

Her personal student.

Of course, when her special talent was literally magic itself, her accomplishments gained some context.

“I will admit, then,” he jokingly conceded. “I would be disappointed in the University of Coltchester if I sent thee hither for a year, only to have thee do that.”

“Yeah.” Twilight casually cleaned her glasses with a cloth, not breaking eye contact with Etheigh. “A full year away from my doctoral program, getting an Old Equish background for studying Classical arcana under the Old Equish specialist, and I don’t even learn how to swear.” She chuckled, “An actual waste of taxpayer bits.”

Twilight was in a private, directed study with Doctor Yoreday, of whom it was said that he spoke the dead language so well that, should he ever fall backwards in time, the Classicals would regard him as speaking their language better than they did. The only reason Etheigh had ever crossed paths with Twilight was because he had come to Doctor Yoreday a couple of times for help with Introduction to Old Equish Literature (a pre-law degree requirement) during office hours, just after her hour with him.

She put her glasses back on. “Come on, one more note card.” She pointed at a small sheet of paper in front of Etheigh. “Remember, you’re not trying to focus on one thing. You’re saying ‘I am lifting this card as I would with my own hooves, and I am also reading it.’” She encouragingly smiled at Etheigh.

“Right...” He sincerely smiled back.

Etheigh had a ‘bad horn’, as he called it. Ever since he was a foal, he had a difficult time casting even the most basic levitation spells, which could require great effort; at times, lifting a pebble could feel like a boulder. He’d been constantly bullied and taken advantage of because he, at best, was handicapped in his magical ability. He relied on good friends, especially Gorthy, to help protect him when he could not protect himself.

He looked down and, with a bit of effort, levitated up the notecard, and began to do something that would have been borderline impossible but months before. “Hwæt is sē mōna?” he asked in Old Equish.

When they’d first met, Twilight had immediately picked up on his horn. She’d taken him aside, and, very politely, asked if he’d ever been treated for Arcane Concentration Deficit Syndrome. He’d asked what she meant, and she began listing off all the problems he’d ever had. She hadn’t even gotten halfway through before she stopped because he was in tears, pleading with her to not hurt him and not tell anypony. She’d swore to him she would never even think of doing those things, and told him he should go to the Realm Health Service for help. He’d said he couldn’t - he was nervous, ashamed even, and was afraid of the concerning tendency of ponies finding out and hurting him repeating with the RHS.

As though reading off a list, Twilight responded, “Hē is þæt ġecyndelīċa tungol þǣre Eorþan, sē hām þæs Blacan Cnihtes ġēare...and sē ār þǣre niht.”

Gorthy always agreed with that worry. Twilight didn’t. She tried to convince him, even offering to accompany him, to go and seek help, because apparently A.C.D.S. was fairly treatable. He simply couldn’t do it. It caused too much fear. And Gorthy...

“What meaneth all that?”

Twilight grinned, and rhetorically asked, “You are taking an Old Equish reading course, right?”

According to Twilight, A.C.D.S. had to do with some babble about failures with the arcanic matrix - her area of expertise. She didn’t feel qualified to treat him, but Twilight had come up with a solution that, she felt, was at least more ethically acceptable than just watching him never get any help. She needed to practice speaking her Old Equish, and he reading it. So they would get together on Tuesdays in the library, and he would read off notecards. In the process, she would give him tips on improving his magic, which wasn’t exactly unheard of between unicorn friends.

He tried to read the notecard, but his sand-colored aura vanished, and it fell to the table. Like a foal who still didn’t quite grasp that asking the teacher for help didn’t mean they were idiots, he tepidly met her gaze, and quietly told her, “I think not that I can do that and magic at the same time...”

Like always, she didn’t look at him like he was “life unworthy of life”, as his mother had once told him. She didn’t laugh at his failure of a horn like his tormentors had in grade school. She didn’t seize the moment to wield her magic against him, as Hrolf had.

She just smiled, and softly told him, “That’s okay. You can always try to next week. I’m sure you will get it then. Just translate it for me.”

Twilight wasn’t the only pony who’d ever told him it was okay his horn was bad. Gorthy and the rest of Etheigh’s friends had before. Doctor Groundlaw did. She was, however, the only pony he could recall telling him that he could always try again, that, next time, he would accomplish such an insurmountably small thing as reading a notecard in another language while he levitated it. She was the only pony who made him believe those things. Not because she was like a mountain to his pebble of a horn, although that helped. Because she showed him, bit by bit, he could do it.

He began reading the notecard, trying to translate the thousand-year old version of his tongue. “The moon is the natural... Something of the Earth.”

“Satellite. Although that use of tungol is a modern thing - it was just a word for moon or planet to the Classicals.”

The thing about their Tuesday ritual was, the main Old Equish “challenge” for Twilight seemed to be remembering the script of the notecards. Not that it was much of a "challenge" for a pony who could quote off sections of textbooks she’d read months prior verbatim. There were a few suspicious times where she just responded with what seemed like a more natural response (though he never understood it to confirm that), and then corrected herself to the notecard. She, however, insisted that she got just as much out of their practice sessions as he did.

“The home of the Black Knight of yore...” he continued to translate.

“Yep.”

“...And the herald of the night.”

“Correct!”

It was a lie that she got as much Old Equish practice as he did. This actually also helped him read texts and study for tests. Maybe, though, she did get as much value as he did out of it.

“...I know not how thou canst stand learning to speak this language of cases and genders and all the rest.” He looked up from his notecard, shaking his head.

“It’s fun!” Only Twilight and Gorthy could say Old Equish was, in any way, fun. “Lots of arcanic concepts can only be described using Old Equish language.” All the note cards that they had gone through, barring the one in front of Etheigh, floated back into her saddlepacks. “And Princess Celestia thinks it’s a good idea and funds my studies here. Though, honestly, the funding doesn’t matter. In this sense, anyways.” Twilight, always a bit to Etheigh’s disorientation, had the personal relationship (and audacity) to refer to Her Radiant Majesty by her one-in-the-same birth name and talent name. To refer to the perfect, flawless being by her name bordered blasphemy

“Now here,” she pointed at the card in front of him. “Float that over while you’re looking at me. You don’t have to talk, just give it to me. Only look at it if you really need to, okay?”

He smiled and nodded, a slight blur in his vision disappearing with an eyeblink. Trying to focus on where he knew the card laid on the table, he directed energy to his horn and began to try lifting it. At first, he really wasn’t so sure if it had gotten up, or was moving, but then it slowly (and unsteadily) floated over to Twilight. Her positivity made hope surge through him, which only bolstered when she complimented him. “That’s great, Holright!” She took the card and put it with the rest in her saddlepacks. “Just a couple of months ago, you couldn’t float that across the table without looking at it, and now you can!”

That was the last thing she did that nopony else did. She celebrated him doing things that must have been thoughtless to her. She genuinely celebrated them. It made her happy that he was improving.

“Yea... Yea, I can.” Another blinking away of tears. “Thank thee.”

Twilight got up, and he did too. “Come here, Hol.” He circled the table, and the two wrapped hooves around each other. “You’re welcome,” she breathed. Her voice sounded ever-so-slightly moist. “It makes me happy to help you make yourself happy.”

“Thank thee...” he repeated. Tears ran down his muzzle.

When they parted, she got on her saddlepacks with an ease that was godlike to him. He, on the other hoof, had to stop and do the whole motions of getting up, looking back, and getting his on. Instead of leaving, or bidding him to hurry, though, she waited with a polite smile like Gorthy did.

When he’d finished, she opened up the door, and they trotted out into the library. In a low voice because they were in such a place, Twilight leaned towards him as they trotted towards the exit and spoke. “We still on for lunch on Friday?”

“Yea.” He forced cheer onto his face. “Yea, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Great! It’s been disappointing to hear that class has you so busy, Holright. It’d be nice to sit down and relax.” The door to the library opened with a magenta glow. “You could even bring your coltfriend, and we could all just chat!”

Ever so slightly, his ears lowered. “Yea...”

They trotted out into a plaza, and she turned, waving a goodbye to Etheigh. “I’ve gotta go see Doctor Yoreday, but I’ll see you on Friday then!”

“See thee...!” He waved, feigning her optimism as she turned and strolled off. She’d gotten a good twenty trots off when an orange, blue-maned pegasus, who Etheigh was pretty sure was her coltfriend, came up beside her and walked with her.

When she’d gotten far enough away, he sighed. Maybe-

“Hello, Etheigh.” He jumped, turning around to find Gorthy trotting out from the library. He didn’t look the least bit happy. His heart began to sink. “Mind telling me who thou wast just talking to?”

“Nopony...” It was a useless lie.

“It looked not like nopony to me.”

Ashamedly, he looked at the ground. “...Twilight.”

“Twilight. Of course. Twilight.” His coltfriend came up close to him. “That mare is possibly the most unsafe pony here in this entire university.” Twilight didn’t feel unsafe... As if hearing his thoughts, Gorthy continued, “Twilight Sparkle is one of the most powerful unicorns in this city, if not this country or even world.”

“I know...”

“Then why persistest thou in not only befriending her, but going places alone with her?”

Etheigh looked at Gorthy, and tried to let all the optimism Twilight inspired in him on that day show through. “As I’ve told thee before...” He put on his widest beam. “She’s helping me. Today, I-I even levitated something without looking at it!”

Sky Drop, Etheigh’s marefriend the previous year, had told him just before they’d stopped courting that spring that Etheigh needed to choose between her and Gorthy. She’d said that Gorthy was becoming “toxic” to Etheigh, that he was being an “abusive friend”. When he’d, ultimately, chosen the stallion he’d known since he was a colt, Sky Drop had, tearfully, ended it, saying she hoped he would understand why one day. He said the same. Gorthy wasn’t “abusive”. Gorthy didn’t demand Etheigh do or not do things, and would never dare to hurt him.

“And as I’ve told thee, Etheigh, stop and think. Stop, and think.” Gorthy put a hoof to Etheigh’s barrel. “Is somepony maybe improving your horn, on things like lifting note cards, really worth the risks of being trapped in a room who, unlike Hrolf, I can’t stop?” Hrolf was the one who... Beat him up, three years prior, in the locker room. Gorthy stopped him.

“...Nay...” His ears flattened, and he sighed. “...Nay, ‘tis not worth the risks.”

“Yes, they aren’t.” Gorthy wasn’t “toxic”. He was just concerned for his coltfriend’s safety. When Etheigh wasn’t concerned for himself. Sky Drop, nor anypony else, saw in Gorthy’s eyes that he wasn’t a jealous friend, now coltfriend, who didn’t want Etheigh all for himself.

“...I’m sorry I’m being such a careless pony, Gorthy.”

Gorthy leaned his horn against Etheigh’s. “Apologize not to me, Etheigh,” he breathed. “I’m not the one putting themselves in harm’s way.”

“...I know...”

Gorthy caressed his mane, and then parted. “...Come,” he bade. “I’d like thee to meet an acquaintance of mine from the Society.”

Etheigh wearily smiled. “Okay...”

Gorthy nodded, and began to trot off. Etheigh glanced towards the tree outside the library. He watched, a bit melancholy, as one of its last leaves finally blew off and away in the wind.

He left with his coltfriend.

Present

Twilight Sparkle. The most unsafe pony in the University of Coltchester, who Etheigh had been foolish enough to think safe. Although her indigo mane was now straightened, her clothes now far less formal (or well-made), and she, like Lyra, had on a seasonal mask, he would recognize that purple coat and pair of box-glasses anywhere. If Lyra had thrown him into a state of confused panic, Twilight launched him into it at full force by trotting out that door.

The force of her tossing intensified when she cheerfully greeted, “Holright! I’ve been waiting to see you again!”

“Twilight!?” Lyra rushed over to Etheigh’s side, and it took everything not to shriek and gallop for his life back to the party. “What’s-”

Twilight’s face turned from Etheigh, and still kept her cheeriness. “Lyra!” She almost sounded relieved to see her. “Oh, I’m glad to see you’re okay too!”

His breathing was approaching hyperventilation. He was now in the presence of one definitely unsafe pony, and one that was confusingly (or just incidentally) safe. He needed to find the librarian. Gorthy was nowhere close to being in earshot.

Loudly, he spoke, “Twilight, ‘tis a wonderful surprise to see thee! Hast thou seen the librarian?”

Please, good librarian, please hear me...!

She cocked her head the slightest bit. “Heh, Holright, I’m the new Ponyville librarian.” His jaw dropped, and the black of Lyra’s eyes tried to consume her face. He took a step backwards, his heart now feeling like it was going to explode. Twilight was the librarian!?

Twilight was safe!?

She was safer than anypony but Gorthy!?

The most unsafe pony in the University of Coltchester was safe!?

“What!?” Lyra shouted. Unlike him, she wasn’t trying to fight off a panic attack as her notions of her own safety were shaking. “Aren’t you a Privy Councillor for Her Radiant Majesty?”

That cheeriness faltered. At the words “Privy Councillor”, Twilight’s ears slightly drooped, and when “Her Radiant Majesty” was spoken, she looked off past the two ponies in front of her. “I...I would rather not talk about it right now, Lyra.” Her eyes went between the two ponies in front of her. A note of cheerfulness, now muted, returned. “I was excited to hear you two were coming here. I was just going to come to the welcome party to say hello, before I cause any trouble...”

What didst thou two weeks ago? WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?

Lyra looked at Etheigh, then huffed. “Come on Twilight. Holright and I both welcome you to our welcome party. You know I won’t let ponies mistreat you.”

Twilight tapped her hoof on the ground. “...Judging by the tone in your voice, Lyra, the trouble’s already happening.” She looked at the ground. “Thank you for coming, but I think I shouldn’t keep you. It’s good to see you’re both okay.”

“Twilight, come...” Lyra looked off for a second, then stomped her hoof on the ground. “Damn it Bonnie, I knew you weren’t telling me something!” she hissed.

“Lyra, Holright, please...” Twilight shook her head. “Just let me stay here. It’s for the best.”

“But...!” Lyra angrily glared at Twilight, then took a deep breath. “...Okay, Twilight. If you don’t want to come, I won’t force you.” With a firm look, she ended, “But I am coming by tomorrow to see my friend.”

“...Thanks, Lyra.”

Etheigh’s state of panic was such that he was only barely aware of the conversation in front of him. He didn’t know what to do. Why was Gorthy saying Twilight, much less Lyra, was safe? What was he supposed to...

Remember the librarian is safer than this party, or anypony here except me! Not that the safe ponies aren’t safe!

...Right. He was supposed to stay here, at the library, instead of the party. That was what Gorthy had all but said. Maybe he simply didn’t have the time to explain why Twilight was now safe, and so he had just sent him there so Etheigh couldn’t make his careless objections. A passing thought said that, of all the ponies to be sent to, Twilight was far from the worst.

Reflexively, he dismissed it. At least, he was pretty sure he did.

“Maybe we can talk tomorrow too, Holright,” Twilight wistfully spoke.

Okay, he needed to work his way into staying here as safely as possible. What was the safe thing to say? Think...! Think...! The sight of Lyra in his periphery inspired a thought that appealed to his inner drive for working to become a lawyer.

“I’d rather stay and talk now, if that’s alright, Twilight,” he responded. He forced himself to stand just a bit more firmly. “Any party where thou’rt not welcome is not a party I wish to attend.”

Lyra looked dumbfounded. Twilight shook her head, “You don’t have to do that, Holright.”

“I must. Thou wast a trustworthy friend.” Confusingly, that didn’t feel like a lie.

A bird flew past, chirping away. Lyra sighed, “...You’re making me look bad here, Holright. I would stay too, Twilight, but Bonnie’s going to kill me if I do.”

“...That’s okay.” There was a hint of a tone that drove him mad trying to answer why it was familiar. “I can see you tomorrow, Lyra.”

Lyra wistfully nodded, and, after another sigh, started to trot off. “It was good to see you, Twilight,” Lyra said.

“It was good to see you too.”

Lyra caught Etheigh’s gaze one more time. “You really are alright, Holright.”

Twilight and Etheigh stood there, watching the unicorn leave. The sun was now almost touching the horizon. “...You should really go with her, Holright. I’m one pony you knew for a year.”

Remember the librarian is safer than this party, or anypony here except me! Not that the safe ponies aren’t safe!

The safe thing to do was lie, and not say anything about safety. Yet, it didn’t give him any sense of dishonesty to tell her, “Yea. Thou’rt a pony I knew for a year. I should stay.”

“...Alright.” He could see the upper creases of a smile reach her eyes. “Let me show you around the library.” The mask on her face came off, and she gestured at his. “Oh, and you can take the mask off. It’s...” She coughed, blushing a bit. “Not needed.”

A mare, whom he was going to be alone with, was telling him not to wear his mask in the midst of heat season. That was extraordinarily unsafe. All he had was a politely vague “It’s not needed”. But he believ...

...

...Well, him not listening to her suggestion would lead to questions about why, if he was such a dedicated friend, he would not trust her. Questions which could lead to him either going back to the less safe party, or other questions that were unsafe. The most safe thing to do, in this situation, was to take off the mask.

With his hoof, he took off the mask, the fresh summer evening air surging into his lungs.

“Using thy hooves leads to ponies asking questions about thy horn,” Gorthy chided. “Judging by how thou didst that, this hath not been the only time thou’st done it recently.”

He stuffed the mask into his cloak. “Come in!” She turned around, and, perhaps because of the clothes (or, more likely, not...), there was no heated rush that came to him. “It’s not that grand a place, but I like it!”

He trotted in after her, the door shutting behind him. He stood at the edge of a circular chamber, at the center of which lay a wooden bust of a pony head. Bookshelves lined the walls, built into them, and a couple of desks standing around. A staircase at the end opposite the entrance led up to some second floor shielded by a door, whilst another door lay beside the ground level end of the staircase.

This was, at best, a personal library one might find in a smaller Coltchester estate. No such library, however, had been, by the looks of it, literally carved out of a tree. He was standing on a grand trunk, the windows were like the holes one might find in the side of the tree, and there was that smell of wood in the air. It was nothing like home, and yet it beckoned him to enter as if it was his own.

“This isn’t any great library, but-” Twilight began.

“Thou needest not convince me. I like it.” Her ears perked up a bit at that.

“...Well, Golden Oaks Library was built by, of all ponies, an earth pony named Pine Wood about thirty years ago. Some specially engineered seed that let it be big enough, and safe enough, for something to be carved out of it.” She gestured around at the bookshelves. “The collection was still using the old Royal organization, but I reorganized it to follow the modern Decimal system. Otherwise, there was weirdness like arcane texts being next to cooking books.”

That sounded like Twilight.

His eyes latched onto what he’d thought was a statue. A white-coated stallion stood next to the door at the bottom of the staircase, eyes staring forward, face frozen in the signature unemotionality of the Guard. He was clad in the deceptively ceremonial-appearing golden armor that clearly indicated he was part of one, single unit - the Celestian Guard. The unit dedicated to protection of Her Radiant Majesty, the officers of Her Office and Privy Council, and other ponies important to those bodies.

Immediately, he backed away. Why was a Celestian Guard here? Did Gorthy know the Guard was here? If he did, why did he say-

“Oh, Holright, I, um... I never introduced you in Coltchester, but this is Master Sergeant Sentry, Sergeant for short.” She gestured to the pegasus, who didn’t react in the slightest. “He didn’t have the armor on then, but, he’s been in charge of my security.” Right. Twilight Sparkle was Her Radiant Majesty’s personal student, and... “Even if... Nevermind.”

“Mr. Holright.” The Guard didn’t even look him in the eye saying that. Typical Royal Guard. He didn’t like being places with the Royal Guard, and now, he was going to be stuck in a small building with one who almost certainly could literally tear him apart.

Twilight must have sensed his discomfort. “...Sergeant, why don’t you go see how Spike is doing?”

“...Doctor.” He didn’t look at her either as he stamped his hoof and mechanically turned to open the door. Watching him descend down into what was apparently a basement was like watching a toy soldier move.

The two unicorns stared at one another. “...So, what brings you to Ponyville, Holright?”

He wasn’t sure what was and was not safe to say to her. He decided to say what he had said to Lyra on the train. “I’m here to read law under Lord Tall Order.”

“Oh, congratulations Holright!” She trotted over and, as though not a day had passed in two years, she wrapped him in a hug. He remained deathly still, but she seemed oblivious. “That’s wonderful! You must be so excited! You got your pre-law degree?”

“...Yea. With honors.”

“Oh, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest!” Her beaming face, filled with that familiar happiness he distantly recalled, pulled back a trot away from him. “You were always really dedicated to your studies!”

Not even the confusion of his situation could resist that happiness. It spread into him, and he genuinely smiled back at her. “Thank thee,” he earnestly replied. “Hast thou gotten thy doctorate?”

When Etheigh asked those five words, her delight cracked. Her joy wavered, her eager, straight legs bent, and she let out this short noise. Then, she spoke with a disturbingly tempered elation. “Oh, yeah...! I wrote my dissertation on the theory underlying Starswirl’s work... I... Was appointed Privy Councillor for Arcane Affairs...”

The last time he’d seen her, she was nothing but excited at the prospect of returning to Canterlot to pursue the final rung in her ladder. The last time they’d practiced Old Equish (though Etheigh had passed the one-semester course he was required to take), she rambled about all sorts of things. One he recalled was how she was going to use her doctorate to work to, once and for all, discredit something called “arcanic reconstitution”; it was something he didn’t understand, and she said was so worthless it didn’t warrant explanation.

It had been like watching the princess of some other country eagerly await to ascend their throne. Her whole life was getting ready to unfold, and she was going to change the world in a way Etheigh could never hope to.

So why was it like she was acting out her happiness now?

Etheigh didn’t ask what was wrong with other ponies. That was unsafe. Asking could get him involved in others’ problems, and that was a bad idea for a careless pony like him. But he was conc...

...

...No, him not asking what was wrong could lead to her asking questions about why he had acted like a dedicated friend, which would lead to questions. Questions which could lead to him either going back to the less safe party, or other questions that were unsafe. The most safe thing to do, in this situation, was to ask what was wrong.

“...Twilight?” he asked. “Art thou okay? When I last saw thee, thou wast... More eager.” He shouldn’t have added that explainer in. A good Coltchesterite didn’t say that to the mare of a house. They simply asked, and they would tell if they deigned to do so. She didn’t chide him for it, though.

“Y-yeah, I’m... Fine... I just...” After a moment, she just wordlessly turned and went to sit down by a bookshelf, staring at the ground. “...I’m sorry, Holright, it seems like I was just as much a happy surprise for you as for me, but... You should really go back to the party.”

Remember the librarian is safer than this party, or anypony here except me! Not that the safe ponies aren’t safe!

He looked up through a window. It was becoming dark. It wasn’t safe for him to go out with it getting dark out. It wasn’t... Not quite finishing his internal justifications of safety, he cautiously approached her, sitting down in front of her. “...What troubleth thee, Twilight?” he asked.

She scrunched her eyes shut. “...What happened in Coltchester two weeks ago?”

“They put everypony inside, even after the sun rose. Said we needed to ‘stay hospitable, stay indoors, and stay warm’. What-”

“I knew it!” Twilight suddenly barked and stamped her hoof, making him flinch. “They said the same thing here!” She spat that like it was an invective. Noticing his reaction, she immediately apologized. “Sorry, that wasn’t towards you. I...”

They were saying the same thing in Ponyville...? Halfway across the realm...?

What...?

“You should go. You deserve a moment where you don’t have to worry about everything.”

“...Right now, ‘tis the time for thy welcome party and blissful ignorance.”

He had no idea whether Gorthy knew or didn’t know anything that was wrong with Twilight, but he justified himself with that. Gorthy was saying the welcome party was the time for blissful ignorance, not the librarian.

“...What happened here, Twilight?”

She looked at him, then at the open door to the basement. It shut under her horn’s influence. Then, she looked at the entrance.

“...Do you know why...” She never finished her question, instead sharply inhaling. “...In May, I got my doctorate, and I was appointed Privy Councillor for Arcane Affairs,” she repeated. “I’ve worked my whole life for that. Gave up friendships, gave up family, gave up all that time for that. The whole world was right in front of me.”

She bit her lip. “...A month ago, Princess Celestia sends me here, to Ponyville, to act as her emissary for coordinating the Summer Sun Celebration.” His eyes widened a bit. He supposed he had forgotten Twilight lived in Canterlot. She shook her head. “It wasn’t surprising. I’m the new and notable Privy Councillor, and, as you know, I’m great at organizing...” She almost sorrowfully laughed that last bit.

He smiled nonetheless. She was a great organizer.

“The plan for me during the Celebration was that I would come out after the mayor had given a speech, and I would give a little lecture. Tell everypony about the magic governing the rotation of the planet, the ‘raising’ and ‘setting’ of the sun.” Twilight looked at him with grave solemnity. “Three days before the Celebration, I get a letter from Princess Celestia saying I should go and enjoy the ceremony in the crowd with any friends I’ve made.”

His jaw dropped. Why would Her Radiant Majesty do that? Twilight was... Was talented, and... and loy...

Although her continuation would have been an appropriate response, it sounded more like she was simply recalling what had happened. “I feel like I’ve done something wrong. And I try to figure it out for two days. I apologize furiously to her in writing for anything I can think of, and yet I get no response. When the day comes, and I try to personally talk to her, I’m told by the Guard that she doesn’t want to talk to me. I...” Her eyes began to water. “I just... I’m trying to figure out what I’ve done wrong when the Celebration starts...”

Two and a half weeks earlier...

Twilight stood almost alone in a clearing in a crowd of thousands packed into Ponyville town square. Even in this small town she’d been in for two weeks, everypony knew to keep their distance from a close confidant of Her Radiant Majesty that was watching it amidst the public. Bad reputations could spread. Sergeant Sentry, standing a couple of trots away, though, was probably happy that everypony was keeping their distance.

What had she done wrong? It didn’t make sense. She’d not been able to do anything for Princess Celestia yet. Was she supposed to do something, and she hadn’t done it yet? She’d thought she’d been proactive - before she’d left, for example, she’d been in a meeting with the Chancellor of Education as an advisory guest about how realm standards about arcane education should be reformed. Everypony had seemed impressed by this young mare, who wasn’t even in the middle of her twenties, going and talking like any of the other academics there who’d worked for decades.

It just didn’t make sense-

“Y’alright sugarcube?” Twilight was jolted out of her thoughts, and turned around to find Applejack had come over. Granny Smith may have been the matriarch of the Apple clan, but Applejack had been the one put in charge of coordinating food and other fares of the festivities. Rumor had it that, when Smith passed in a decade or two, Applejack was going to be her successor. Despite Twilight’s apprehensions about somepony that was part of a cartel, she and her had hit it off over the past weeks. Even if she seemed to genuinely believe the Apples could do no wrong, there was a ruggedness and honesty to her that was admirable.

“...No.” She frowned, looking down at the ground. “I... I don’t understand what I’ve done.”

Applejack sighed, shaking her head. “Y’know, sugarcube, ah’d normally say that ya needta just do more thinkin’ ‘bout whatcha done, but, with mah experience with ya, ah can’t in all honesty say that. Y’ain’t a lousy worker. Maybe it’s just politics.”

“What politics?” Twilight thought out loud. “Privy Councillors are supposed to be neutral.”

“Our family hasn’t done anything either!” Spike, the dragon she’d hatched and temporarily grown to a full adult when she was six, sat on her back so he could see the stage. Although his size and growth led many ponies to think her other “brother” was a “foal” when, in fact, he was sixteen.

“Y’all sure ‘bout that?” Applejack pointed up at the stage towards a random Royal Guard surveying the area. “Twah’s brother’s in charge of ‘Er Radiant Majesty’s security, and he ain’t here neither.”

Twilight’s family had a history with the Royal Guard, spanning back generations. They had a tradition of producing stallions who served with distinction as far back as the 1100s. Her father, Colonel Night Light, had led the Special Activities Unit, though he and the Royal Guard insisted he had never commanded a unit, which, in fact, did not and had never existed. Her brother, Captain Shining Armor, had been promoted to commanding the equally elite Celestian Guard two years prior, after his predecessor, Valiant Stand, retired.

“What would Shiny do?” Twilight used the affectionate name with Applejack with the same (often intentional and teasing) carelessness as when he would call Twilight “Twily”. “He doesn’t make mistakes, and if he does, everypony knows he’ll get them not only fixed, but improved.”

“Dunno. Ah’m a farmer an’ businessmare, not a Guard.”

She sighed, glancing up at the moon. Its craters recalled Twilight the tale of the Hench in the Moon. Princess Celestia, so the tale went, once had a brother, Artemis, who was seized by an ancient evil which transformed him into an abomination called the Black Knight. Believing the act would get it the same adoration as Princess Celestia, it halted the planet’s rotation to bring about eternal night. Princess Celestia, with great sorrow, was forced to permanently imprison the thing her brother had become in the moon, making the craters.

It was, of course, a foal’s tale. The Princess said ponies came up with all sorts of stories about her all the time. It was used by parents and teachers to teach foals not to be jealous, and that harming ponies only caused sadness, not glory. It was also a royalistic myth legitimizing the Princess, by contrasting her against an opposite who was every horrific thing the Princess could be with the living reality of what she was.

The reality was, astronomers all around the world, as every year, should have observed a halt in planetary rotation about an hour before. In but a few moments, the Princess would, in dramatic fashion, “raise the sun” as a display of not only her power, but the fact that, no matter the conflicts between her or her realm and anybody else, she would always protect life on the Earth. It was an act which, every year, every day, she did only because she had not yet found a way to lift Discord’s Curse.

So what had Twilight done to lead such a perfect, benevolent figure to bar her from being in there with her? Touting the meaning of what she did to everypony here? Introducing her, her teacher, her second mother?

“I swear Applejack...!” A white unicorn mare came up to the two. Rarity was a talented local seamstress that was one of Applejack’s friends. Twilight got the feeling part of why Rarity had partially struck up a friendship with herself was because of who she was and where she was from, but she seemed genuinely friendly nonetheless. “Our sisters are little demons!”

“What happened?” Applejack sounded like she was going to be having stern words with her filly sister, Apple Bloom, after this was done.

“‘Helping Her Radiant Majesty raise the sun’ talent marks.” Reportedly, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle (Rarity’s sister), and some pegasus filly named Scootaloo had a penchant for bad ideas in their pursuit of their talent marks. This sounded like something they would try.

An angered whinny came from the terran. “Little demons,” she repeated.

“Oh, won’t you put in a word for us, dear?” Rarity turned to Twilight, fluttering her eyes.

Twilight waved a dismissive hoof. “The Princess understands foals. She...” Well, that wasn’t her place to talk about. Even if almost no press but that of Ponyville was present for her to blab personal secrets to. Seemingly to prevent the small village from being overwhelmed by press, there had been a request that non-local press forgo this year’s Celebration. It was a bit odd, and had even drawn some criticism as “censorship”, but most had respected it.

Rarity walked up to her, planting a consoling hoof. “Twilight, I’m sure that, whatever this is, it’ll get fixed.” The mare glanced at Spike. “Won’t it, Spike?”

“O-of course, Rarity.” Spike had developed an instant and blatant crush on the mare when he first saw her. After the Celebration was over, and they were back in Canterlot, she needed to have a talk with him about having romantic affections for beings his own age.

“Everything’s ready to go!” A pink pony bounced up to the front. Pinkie Pie had been the one in charge of putting together festivities. She didn’t really hold any formal position in this town, but her talent was party making. It was hard to dislike her. She bounced up into Twilight’s face. “Aw, don’t be sad Twilight! Rarity’s right! It’s all a misunderstanding that’ll get fixed!”

“How do you...?” She hadn’t told Pinkie, who had an eerie...

Oh, right, everypony was avoiding her.

“I hope...” she sighed, her ears folding over. She didn’t want everything she’d worked towards for years to just be tossed aside. Spike patted and rubbed her neck.

“We can always stop by Donut Joe’s when we get back to Canterlot, Twilight,” Spike suggested. “He’ll know what to do.” The unicorn he referred to ran Twilight’s favorite restaurant, and she occasionally went to him for advice.

“Come on, Fluttershy.” A rainbow-maned pegasus came from the crowd, shepherding along with her a timid pegasus. “This is a once in a lifetime event.”

Twilight saw Fluttershy’s lips move, but couldn’t hear what she said over the din. Rainbow Dash was in charge of weather control and, informally, coordinating security. The weather team had been thoroughly vetted, as they were the only ones, barring the Guard, allowed to fly above a certain height today. If somepony tried to do something, which almost certainly wouldn’t happen, the weather team would also help provide a cover for the Princess.

She didn’t really know Fluttershy. Apparently, she was some old friend of Rainbow Dash from school that moved here to Ponyville too. It seemed like, from what she’d seen, a small place like Ponyville where everypony knew one another was the right place for her. Interestingly, she apparently was quite familiar with the Everfree; she and an older mare studied its wildlife.

As the two came forward into the clearing, Rainbow Dash glanced up at Twilight. “Hey, uh, sorry to hear about what’s happening.”

Twilight nodded, looking back up at the stage. Rainbow Dash had been working for years to join the military part of the Royal Guard, with an eye to eventually joining the famed Wonderbolts, but had been constantly rejected. Even though Rainbow’s condolences were brief, Twilight knew they were sincere, after her constantly seeing her dreams dashed.

A familiar pegasus set down in front of her, leaning in towards Sergeant Sentry and whispering something. Lieutenant Smalbrook Gorhench, her brother’s second-in-command. To Twilight’s unease, Sergeant Sentry’s, for a blink-and-miss-it instant, looked directly at Twilight. After more whispering, the two saluted one another, and Gorhench flew off.

Twilight approached her bodyguard, a bit nervous. “What’s going on, Flash?” She used the first part of his name.

“Nothing, Doctor.” He turned to face the stage. “Just final updates on security.”

Something wasn’t quite right in his voice. Equestrian Royal Guards were known the world over for their demeanor on duty, and his wasn’t completely flat. “Is something wrong?”

Making her even more concerned, he didn’t immediately respond. “...No threats warranting action, Doctor.”

Okay...?

“What does that mean-” Twilight began to ask.

A spotlight mounted from the back of town square shifted onto the stage as a royal military flourish began to play. She decided to leave the matter, if there wasn’t anything “warranting action”. Everypony quieted down, eyes turning towards the stage. A Celestian Guard walking onto the platform placed a single hoof on, glancing around momentarily before fully coming on. Behind him, Executive Action, or “Mayor Mare” as she was called, trotted up with another Guard.

Executive Action was alright. She seemed like she genuinely cared about the village she was elected to govern, but her ambition rubbed Twilight the wrong way. She had lobbied Canterlot hard for what was, at best, a longshot Summer Sun Celebration; by no fault of her own, she was taking credit for her apparent success. The fact, though, was that the Princess personally chose Ponyville over the obvious option of Hooftington without explanation. The Princess was like that, sometimes. Made strange decisions with indiscernible reasons for why she did them. That was what all the rest of the state was for. To keep the logic of a god in check.

“Fillies and gentlecolts!” Her voice, only hardly amplified by magic, spread out across the square. “As Mayor of Ponyville, it is my great pleasure to announce the beginning of the Summer Sun Celebration!”

A great cheer erupted throughout the square, and the earth quaked under the thunder of a thousand pairs of stomping hooves. Twilight cheered with them, but perhaps not as hard.

“In just a few moments, our town will witness the magic of the sunrise, and celebrate this, the Longest Day of the Year!” Another cheer, and then Executive Action, predictably took the moment to make her own political speech. “But first, on behalf of every citizen of Ponyville, I wish to humbly thank Her Radiant Majesty for visiting our humble village...”

Twilight tuned it out, opting to ruminate further.

Was this one of the Princess’s strange decisions? Had she, in fact, not done anything wrong, and this was some move towards some end in months or even years? It bordered on conspiratorial thinking, but this just didn’t make sense. Even if her brother had somehow badly messed up, Princess Celestia wouldn’t take that out on Twilight, who she’d stood behind for almost decades. But what could possibly be the end?

Somewhere, there was a quiet roll of thunder, and a cold wind blew upon her coat, making her shiver. She glanced around - not a cloud in sight. Not even over the Everfree. It seemed like she wasn’t the only one who felt it either - Rainbow Dash was looking somewhere between confused and ready to yell at the weather team.

“...But now, it is my great pleasure to introduce the ruler of our land...” Twilight looked back at the stage, shaking her head. Must have been the Everfree.

“Um, Twilight...” Spike’s voice wavered like a skyscraper bending over to collapse.

“What?”

“...the very Shepherd of the Sun and the Moon each and every day...”

“The Hench in the Moon is gone,” Spike breathed.

Her eyes turned skywards. “The Hench in the Moon is gone.” She knew she shouldn’t have let him stay up all night. Now, he was seeing...

“...the Good and Wise Bringer of Harmony to all of Equestria...”

The Hench in the Moon was, indeed, gone.

That was impossible.

Those were physical craters.

Astronomers searching for evidence of extraterrestrial life surveyed the moon for arcane signatures, sometimes cheekily naming their papers with titles like "Is there a Hench on the Moon?".

IT WAS ALWAYS AS DEAD AS THE REST OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM.

“...Her Radiant Majesty, Princess Celestia!”

No matter how much she blinked or thought this was a dream for three straight seconds, the craters refused to reappear.

Twilight’s heart began beating hard enough she feared she might have a heart attack, and she looked back towards the entrance to town hall. It opened, with the Guard playing the national anthem until, without warning, it faltered.

Nothing happened. Nopony came out.

Mayor Mare eventually looked backwards, and then jumped back. The smooth charisma and charm that had characterized her over the past two weeks was gone. All that was left was pinprick eyes and trembling hooves.

“Remain calm, everypony!” she shouted.

Remain calm? What?! Why!? WHAT’S GOING ON?!

Celestian Guards flooded the stage. Lieutenant Gorhench began pointing at random Guards, and shouting orders. Sergeant Sentry started to immediately back up towards Twilight, his head swivelling as he looked for threats.
“Doctor, we need to...” Along with half the crowd, his head stopped on the moon, his jaw dropping. “Twilight...” Gone was the famed indifference of the Guard. All that was left in saying her name was the same pure, visceral terror at that unrelenting sight hanging in the sky she felt.

A small patch of the starry night sky began to drip down from the heavens. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but it eventually became thick enough that she noticed it in her periphery and gazed towards the stage. It gradually pooled into what resembled a nebula upon the center of the stage, coalescing like food at the bottom of a sink.

A primal fear entered Twilight. She began to slowly step back, along with Sergeant Sentry, several other Guards, the Mayor, and everypony else.

THE HENCH IN THE MOON IS GONE!

THAT’S JUST A FOAL’S TALE!

The moon mocked everything Twilight and millions upon millions of souls had ever been taught to believe as a fact of life. No matter how much she blinked, no matter how much she screamed this was a nightmare, not a single crater reappeared. Then, neurons connected in her head, and she stared past the nebula into the town hall. Though the cloud blocked her view, the reaction of the Mayor and the Guard when the doors told her one simple, horrific fact.

PRINCESS CELESTIA WAS GONE.

“Get back,” somepony called. It was only when she lit her horn and directed magic at herself and anypony close to her that Twilight realized it was her own voice. Celestia had taught her a spell used by the Celestian Guard once, and advised her to always use it in the presence of those more powerful than herself. It protected one’s mind from being read or manipulated. “Get back!” Twilight shouted louder.

A few Royal Guards began to advance towards the forming nebula upon the stage, weapons drawn, horns lit. Their seemingly ceremonial armor now revealed its true might, arcane shields appearing around pegasi, unicorns, and terrans alike, points of energy coalescing to form the threat of directed arcana alongside their blades, spears, and experimental “firearms”. Anypony who found themselves in such a between them had no reason to do anything but surrender. Surrender meant trial, and even life in prison if found guilt, but it wasn’t certain death.

Any pony.

Sergeant Sentry placed a hoof on Twilight. “We need to leave...!”

The Royal Guards had just about encircled the cloud when, like a great bird flapping away a cloud, the nebula that had come down to the earth dissipated in a great explosion. Those who made the mistake of approaching had their armor’s world-class arcane augmentations and protections visibly burst in magical overload, and they were cast aside like a foal’s toy soldiers, soaring into the air and smashing into and through the town hall, or flying out across the town square. She watched one all but splatter like a bug on the roof of the hall.

In place of the nebula, a great, looming thing that resembled a stallion stood on the center of the stage, clad in a metallic grey armor that vaguely resembled the Celestian Guards’. The nebula now flowed out from its hind like the radiant beams of sunlight did from Celestia, though its “mane” was covered by a helmet whose hairs glowed like the night sky. Sharp fangs shone like white metal from its mouth, and the pupils of its eyes were narrow like a snake as they ran over the crowd. Its coat didn’t have color - it was simply a black void in reality.

Princess Celestia was the perfection of the equine form.

This thing was its twisted mockery.

It was a legend, a Black Knight, come to life.

Twilight and everypony else was so terrified that they had forgotten how to even scream.

Something resembling two voices speaking as one broke the silence. There were hints of a masculine, suave voice, but it was utterly overpowered by that voice’s pitch being lowered to a discordant key in another voice.

“Ūre dīeran underdāne...” As the Black Knight spoke, it also began speaking inside Twilight’s head. “Our beloved subjects...”

Twilight... Didn’t need the translation. She spoke Old Equish fluently, and sometimes held entire conversations with Princess Celestia in it. Occasionally, Princess Celestia would even refuse to speak in anything other than Old Equish with Twilight, especially recently. Twilight had always appreciated the ability to practice what wasn’t a very practical skill.

The Black Knight’s head swivelled back and forth like a plastic doll, apparently in imitation of a disapproving shake of the head. Everypony took another step backwards. “Wē habbaþ ne ēowre luflīċan, sunne-lystande andwlitan in tīda sewen!” (“We have not seen your lovely, sun-lusting faces in ages!”)

Rainbow Dash, before even a single Royal Guard, somehow managed to break through the terror. She boldly and stupidly started to take to the air, roaring “What did you do with Her-!”

Applejack, thankfully, broke through her fear as well, and tackled Rainbow Dash down to the ground. Had she acted but an instant later, a tendril of the night sky that lashed forth from the Black Knight would have killed Rainbow Dash like the Guards.

“Wes stillu!” (“Be quiet!”) The Black Knight’s voice roared loud enough that Twilight’s ears rang. It slammed its hoof at its perversion of military armor, and there was a burst of air that almost threatened to knock Twilight over. “Sind wē ne cyngliċe ġenōg for ēow!?” (“Are we not royal enough for you!?”)

The Black Knight’s hoof proceeded to slam into the stage, and the entire center instantly exploded into sawdust. It stood on thin air, as though the wood was still there. “Is ūre wuldorbēag ne æfter ġēarþūsend unrihtwīses fengsċipes ġeteald!?” (“Is our crown not counted after a millennium of unjust imprisonment!?”) It pumped its wings once and soared into the air, remaining suspended about ten trots above the ground as though gravity were a suggestion, and not a law. “Habbaþ ne ūrne sagan hīered!?” (“Have you not heard our story!?”)

In that moment, Twilight Sparkle decided one thing. She, everybody in Ponyville, and everybody on the Earth, was going to die. If she was going to die, however, she refused to die on anything but her own terms. She would not be a pony fleeing and shrieking that she didn’t want to die.

She was going to die as Princess Celestia’s personal student, Privy Councillor on Arcane Affairs, and a doctor of the arcane. She was going to do everything she could to try and stop this thing above her. That didn’t mean a suicidal magical attack like the Guards. No, no. She was an arcanist, a scientist, an organizer. She followed a systematic method that had transformed Equestrian society from a mighty agrarian realm to the innovating superpower of the world.

Step one. Establish the question.

Question. How does Twilight Sparkle stop the Black Knight?

Step two. Collect and assess evidence from personal observations and previous studies. Time for collection and field assessment of personal observations.

“...I remember you, Black Knight.”

The Black Knight’s head snapped to Twilight, and the crowd immediately moved away. Only Spike, Sergeant Sentry, and the ponies she’d befriended didn’t move (Fluttershy was held back by Rainbow Dash).

The very heavens roared down at Twilight, “WĒ SIND NE BLÆC CNIHT! WĒ SIND ĒOWER ĠERIHT CYNG, ARTEMIS!” (“WE ARE NOT A BLACK KNIGHT! WE ARE YOUR RIGHTEOUS KING, ARTEMIS!”)

Fact one. The Black Knight believed it was Artemis, or was pretending to be Artemis. Considering how it was a thousand years out of step, it could be that it simply didn’t have the time yet to discover the character of Artemis, should he, in fact, be a myth. Just because the Black Knight existed didn’t mean that Artemis did. But the fact that it was using his name could suggest he had.

Interesting.

“My apologies.” The calm in her own voice disturbed her. “I remember you, Artemis.”

Twilight had anticipated that it wasn’t going to let go of her calling it what it was. Or, simply, kill her where she stood.

Instead, the abomination grinned like it had gone even more insane. “Horsling þe sē ūre ġeman!” (“A pony who remembers us!”) it cackled with glee. “Ġēa! ĠĒA! HĪEREST ÞÆT FRAM ÞǢRE SUNNAN SWEOSTER? WĒ SIND ĠEMUNEN!” (“Yes! YES! DO YOU HEAR THAT FROM THE SUN SISTER? WE ARE REMEMBERED!”)

The Black Knight began clapping its hooves together like an excited little colt. “Hwæt ġemanst ūre? Wē willaþ witan! Wē willaþ witan!” (“What do you remember of us? We want to know! We want to know!”)

Fact two. The Black Knight liked being regarded as Artemis. To the point it was descending into foalish delight over Twilight doing so. If it had read the minds of everypony, the subject of its delight was an apparently disgraced Privy Councillor and personal student of Princess Celestia. If it hadn’t, the subject of its delight was some random unicorn.

Fact three. Princess Celestia had, in some sense, just received the same treatment as the Black Knight, apparently being “at the Sun”. That, in and of itself, meant nothing. That could mean she was teleported into the stellar core, which would, in all likelihood, instantly vaporize her. Or, that could mean she was being held by similar means as the Black Knight apparently had been for a thousand years. That the Black Knight was talking to her could suggest that the latter had occurred. There was a chance Twilight’s “other mother” was still alive.

Fact four. The Black Knight liked being regarded as Artemis. To the point that it was shouting at his either alive or dead sister like it was bragging in an argument. That could imply Princess Celestia, like the tale, refused to recognize the Black Knight as her own brother. Which could further imply that Artemis had, in fact, been a real pony.

Interesting.

“I remember that you want the world to adore you, Artemis.”

“ĠĒA!” (“YES!”) The very Earth rung with its joyous voice. “Wē willaþ þā lufe for ūre sweoster habban!” (“We want the love for our sister!”)

Fact five. The Black Knight wanted, or pretended to want, whatever it perceived to be the same level of love as the world had for Princess Celestia. By that, it meant it wanted to share it with her, or it meant it wanted to seize that love.

Not quite news, but providing a framework of options. Useful.

“I also remember you want to kill everybody-”

“LYĠENNE SWEOSTER!” (“SISTER’S LIES!”) it shrieked.

Fact six. The Black Knight believed, or was pretending, that it didn’t want to kill everybody. Despite the implications of the foal’s tale.

Interesting. Move towards clarification.

“The world is going to freeze and burn under your eternal night, Artemis!”

The Black Knight shifted down towards Twilight, and everypony but those who had previously remained still got further back. When it shifted, it didn’t actually move a single part of its body. It just slid down towards her, until it was maybe three or four trots away.

“NE!” (“NO!”) it maniacally roared. She was pretty sure she felt Spike lose his balance, faint, or go into cardiac arrest. Any of the three ways, he fell on her back. “WĒ ENDIAÞ ÞĀ NIHT! EALLE SĊULON BÆRLIĊE ÞĀ SUNNAN AND ÞONE MŌNAN ANBEDAN!” (“WE WILL END THE NIGHT! ALL MUST SIMPLY WORSHIP THE SUN AND THE MOON!”)

Fact seven. The Black Knight believed, or was pretending, that it would end the night at some point. The qualifier was when it received whatever it perceived to be the same level of love as the world had for Princess Celestia. From the phrasing, it seemed like the sharing interpretation of fact five was correct.

Interesting, but time for clarification. It could easily have so high a standard that there was no meaningful difference from an eternal night.

“And what does worship mean, Artemis? Is it fear? Are you Discord? Because this won’t do anything but make everypony fear you.”

Silence.

The Black Knight stared at her, then its head began to swivel like a plastic doll again, shaking back and forth.

Fact eight. The Black Night was shaking its head in response to her question. It could be indicating a negative, which was supported by the last time it shook its head. Alternatively, it could be the Nightmare looking at everypony, as supported by its eyes moving around, and the fact that any other time Twilight had been wrong in its eyes, it had shouted at her.

The Nightmare’s head stopped swiveling, settling back on Twilight. Still, it said nothing.

Curious.

Before Twilight could further continue, collection and field assessment of personal observations was forced to a halt.

“EVERYPONY RUN HOME NOW!” Some of the remaining Celestial Guards sprung into action, pegasi flying at the thing with winged blades.

Twilight immediately cast her brother’s signature shield spell, as he had taught it to her, over her surroundings just before eldritch lightning shot out from the Black Knight to strike its assailants. The Guards shrieked as if being tortured until they simply fell from the sky like dead birds.

In awe and horror, she watched the Black Knight’s lightning lash down near her, and not burst the spell as it should have. Instead, the lightning went through the bubble and struck Sergeant Sentry, who began shrieking. And didn’t stop shrieking.

She might have made an addendum to personal observations at that, but scientist Twilight was taking a break. Now, sane pony Twilight was utterly horrified at how he and everypony else was screaming and wouldn’t stop screaming!

Sane pony Twilight had the simple desire to survive and the desire to make sure as many ponies as possible survived. Screaming, she teleported herself, Spike, Sergeant Sentry, and the other ponies within her shield to the first safe place she could think of: the library. She successfully did it. Well, almost successfully. As she and everypony else immediately found out by falling onto their backs, she had teleported in upside down.

When scientist Twilight clocked back in, it would be time for collection and assessment of previous studies.

“...It just killed and killed and killed like nopony was anything!”

Twilight was bawling. Etheigh had weakly tried to get her to stop talking about what had happened two weeks ago as she wailed into his neck. She just kept going, kept rambling about how her snub from speaking at the Celebration had transformed into bearing witness to a horrific attack by a monster straight out of foal’s tales.

A young drake had emerged from the basement at some point, running over and clinging to Twilight. He tried to say it was okay and it was all over now, before he too just started crying like a newborn. Sergeant Sentry, somehow alive and seemingly well despite being attacked by the Nightmare, had emerged as well.

And he was on the floor with them, weeping and shaking as well, his helmet cast off.

Etheigh was crying too, wondering when Gorthy was going to come. Wondering how Gorthy could have ever had him come when there were three notable facts about Ponyville that he had known.

The first was that it was the home of the Apple cartel.

The second was that terrans had been mad enough to settle next to the Everfree.

The third, no longer conjecture, was that this was the place the Black Knight returned.

Author's Note

"Hench" is a word artificially evolved from the Old English word for "stallion", henġest. The Old English word only survives in the modern English word henchman. In the context of the Long Night-verse, hench was supplanted by stallion during the Scientific Revolution of the 1200s, although jument "mare" never quite took off; the "Hench in the Moon" is an in-universe relic.

In the Long Night-verse, Princess Celestia doesn't actually control the motions of the sun, but the rotation of the planet. About a hundred years after the unification of the Three Tribes in the year 1, Discord started wreaking havoc. The exact timelines aren't precisely clear during this time, but at some point Celestia (and her legendary brother Artemis) appeared to fight against him. Celestia, at this point, didn't have her talent mark, and was simply an extremely powerful pony trying to do right. In the final confrontation, Celestia presented Discord an ultimatum: stand down, or have a mysterious magical artifact wielded against him. As in canon, Discord didn't take it seriously - but because he answered the ultimatum by taking the entire planet hostage, using a curse to tidally lock one side of the planet to the sun. Despite the risk of rendering the planet all but inhospitable, Celestia overthrew Discord. She searched for a way to lift the curse, but could not find a way to undo it (and never has). In a desperate last attempt, she tried to brute force rotation and succeeded, "raising the sun" for the first time, and earning her talent mark.

Obviously, the story has, to this point, diverged from established lore in a number of ways. However, I fully admit that the Cutie Mark Crusaders forming earlier than in canon was (at first) purely for the one line of "'Helping Her Radiant Majesty raise the sun' talent marks"