Author's Note

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

Okay, so first and foremost, I apologize for being a day late. My editor recently went on a schedule change and its fucking them up working so early in the morning. They only have to put up with it for the rest of this week and they should be back to normal by the next.

This chapter was more difficult to put together as you will soon read. I had to come up with a way to make it work and had gone through several drafts before the one you will now read had been settled upon.

I want to thank you for sticking around with patience. As I had announced before, I have artwork coming for Orion's journey. The cost was higher than I expected but I don't mind footing the bill.

Also, I am making a MAP. Awww yeah, that's right. A mother buckin' map. I'll will begin posting updates of my progress this weekend on my Kofi. So if you want to have a gander take a look.

Well, that is all for now. I will leave you to it. Please remember to leave a comment, and if you have some spare change, consider sending me a donation on my Kofi. It would really mean a lot and will help me better finish this gargantuan task I have foolishly undertaken.

Peace!

Anvil and Hammer

Early morning sunlight poured into the open kitchen windows. With it, came the fragrance of the garden's flowers in full bloom. The floral aroma made a great blend with the scent of coffee intermixed in the air. A glorious summer morning all things considered. The shouts of foals in the halls, all babbling in excitement, reminded him of the last five years of school.

Five years since that fateful afternoon in the dusty secluded aisles of the castle's library in which he found his salvation. Of sorts.

He shook his head ruefully, causing various beads of wood and metal clinking together, as he picked up his mug of coffee. Taking a sip of the pure black liquid, he mused over something that had only recently occurred to him.

There were no bees flitting about in the kitchen despite the honey cakes and sweet treats Mr. Dumpling was making. The trays were even sitting in front of the open bay windows, unmolested.

The gray earth pony stallion in a pastel blue apron and kitchen clothes, was a whirl of activity in the moderately sized kitchen, as he was most mornings, and on this fine Saturday he was in an exceptional mood. Hell, all the staff were.

It was adoption day.

Mrs. Evergarden had long since made it her mission to get as many foals adopted as possible, just like any other orphanage. The difference was that she would arrange for a day where all adoptions were finalized. This meant some would have to wait on others, but it made it so no one felt left out as others were accepted into their new families. This also gave the same benefit for those herds that had some distance to travel before they could arrive to pick up their chosen foal.

The result was a party every three to six months that usually cleared out the entire orphanage. Usually. With Orion living there it had not happened in years. Much to the Matron's disgruntlement.

As often was the case, he was happy to see all the kids go to loving families. They needed it far more than he.

What he didn't like was having questions directed to, and about, him. The lack of any herd's interest in him was constantly brought up. Which then would evolve into more than a few, high on the experience of taking a new foal into their lives, offering to take him in as well. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he had hissed at the last herd to try.

That must have been an image.

The hope in Mrs. Evergarden's eyes when this would happen would make him groan audibly. Because he would be forced to crush that hope with the sledgehammer that was his mouth, every single time.

It still happened, but now he had a reputation. He was known as the "Unadoptable". A funny name, but certain herds would not be dissuaded and the more assertive mares would attempt to bully him. This of course ended with him doing the worst possible thing and ruining what was supposed to be a great time for everyone. Now he stayed in the kitchen or his room, away from the gatherings.

Besides, he didn't know these kids beyond being given tutor status on occasion when they needed help with an assignment. He still didn't know how the hell Mrs. Evergarden roped him into that assignment.

Orion had long since given up committing to memory the names of fillies and colts that lived briefly within the walls and halls of his permanent residence. He had become to them, from what he had overheard during the testing of a spell, an aloof creature that rumor said devoured the flesh of animals and foals, haunting the halls at night. He wondered who spawned that particular tale.

"Colt if you let those crepes burn I will tan your hide!" The light lilt tone of Mr. Dumpling, was at odds with his word usage.

His concern for the light breakfast treat was unfounded of course. The recipe had been easy once Orion had remembered exactly how to make it. And he was in the process of making three at a time with the practiced ease of a master.

"Relax D, I got this under control." He snarked back with no real heat. "Besides, you don't even know the recipe to begin with."

Apparently no one did. A pleasant surprise considering how sugar happy the species was. Unfortunately, this meant if he ever wanted something sweet for himself that wouldn't put the colt into diabetic shock, it would have to be made by him specifically.

"I know, and I told you not to call me that." His cooking companion huffed back. "I won't have you ruining a day like today with burnt food, and I will wheedle out of you that recipe one day!" He mock scowled at him that eventually morphed into a broad smile.

They both grinned at each other before heading back to their tasks. The two had an easy relationship of casual insults. A surprise for the black colt considering how most ponies behaved and viewed him. Mr. Dumpling just let him cook when he needed to and came down hard if he forgot to clean a pan. Otherwise, it was the request for crepes on occasion that often found them working together.

Truth to tell, Orion didn't need to even pay attention at this point. After the third request he ended up creating a spell just for this particular recipe. That left him free to decorate as finished bases flew through the air, folding as they cooled, and then landing on a plate to be used in the next dish.

His mind drifted back to the bee problem. From his place in the kitchen, he could sense where they were thanks to the enchantment hidden within the multitude of random braids and regular beads, both metal and wood, strewn about his mane.

After that first night he had been very careful and learned quite a bit. Such as the fact that any type of shield or filter spell interferes with the "Presence" area of detection. Not that it didn't work at all, but the shield spells six inch distance from the body made it fuzzy and blurry to his mind after surpassing that boundary. Anything inside those six inches could easily be detected. Making the combo useless.

Further reading of Bearded Star's work showed that spells operating on the same magical wavelength could, and would, interfere with each other. Which told him he now had limits to what he could do with certain creations combinations. So much for his imagination being the only limit. That had been naive thinking.

He shook his head again. His mind really was wandering away today.

"Bee problem, or lack of one, stay on task genius."

He had done a scan. There was no magical spell on any of the windows. Nor doors, or even around the building itself. Nothing he could see had been done to the wood. So, what was keeping the bees out of the kitchen?

"Hey, D?" He ignored the stallions' grumbles about his nickname. "Why are there absolutely no bees in the kitchen? Or hell, the Orphanage in general. For that matter flies too now that I'm thinking about it."

"You mean in all that fancy schmancy schooling you don't know?" The humor was clear in his voice, including the smug. The smug was thick.

"Cut the shit man, I've already determined that whatever is going on is not magically based. That's why I am asking you."

There was silence for a minute, Orion was too busy to turn around, but he thought Mr. Dumpling was laughing silently at him.

"You mean to tell me they don't have a class on plants and their effects?" There was a note of disbelief. Okay maybe he wasn't laughing.

They did not actually. Oh they had a natural science course in which they discussed the various plant species native to Equestria, but from his two semesters in it they had never discussed their effects.

"Yeah, no. They don't have Horticulture." He laughed. "Likely they believe magic is the be all end all of illnesses and disease. They don't see the point when they can eliminate problems with an accurate application of a spell, after all."

Unicorns as a race are rather arrogant and ignorant lot. Striking sparks with the other two races that populated the nation on a daily basis. That's not to say all of them were douchebags, but Canterlot seemed to have attracted the worst of the worst in terms of pretentiousness.

"Ah, I see. I suppose that would be the case. Not many see past their horns." He gave a caged look, as if wondering if the veiled insult would affect him. When he showed no sign, the older stallion carried on. "But going back to your question. It's really simple, and mostly cooking ingredients."

That got Orion's attention. Cooking ingredients?

"My father taught me that peppermint oil, a little vinegar, some spiced pepper, and a little soak, can keep the worst of insects from crossing the borders of your home." He ran a thumb along his jaw, a thing he liked to do when teaching him anything.

"So what ya just slop it on the doors and windows?"

"No, no, my colt. I soak it into the wood frames. Usually with a long cloth soaked in the concoction, I secure it to the framework for about a day or so. Once done I'm done. Normally it lasts for a year as long as you don't live in a place heavily favored by rains."

"Huh. Neat I suppose, mind showing me how to whip it up for myself?" It was a pretty good idea, and with no mana draw necessary it seemed like a better alternative than having to waste time on a dispel that he would likely have to cast daily.

"You'd want to learn old earth pony secrets?" Dumpling chuckled.

"If it's better, and saves me time, I don't see what's wrong with learning a better approach to a problem."

Silence.

Finishing the last crepe he turned around to see the old stallion looking at him, not skeptically, but in wonder.

"I figured you were messing with me, you really wanna know?"

"Why wouldn't I? I'm getting tired of chasing the bugs out of my room." It was the wrong thing to say. The stallion's grin lit up his eyes.

"Well maybe if you didn't have those little accidents in the mornings maybe they wouldn't invade your room all the time." He chortled.

"Hey it was puberty, and I haven't had that problem in over a fucking year you asshole!" He hissed. His correction did nothing to stop the chortle from turning into outright laughter.

Orion had forgotten all about the idea of puberty. Or the effects for that matter, and when it decided to hit him, it made his life a living hell for two years.

The first morning it had happened he wondered why his sheets had felt so slimy and disturbingly cool.

Peeling them back revealed a disgusting mess that made the air in his immediate area smell like straight chlorine. The knowledge that he had a wet dream in the night brought with it an even more horrible realization, he was going through horse puberty.

Worse, in comparison to humans, colts' normal amount far outstripped the latter. Resulting in what looked like an entire half gallon had been dumped in his bed nearly every fucking night.

For the next six months it was an everyday event that he ended up washing his sheets before school. Worse, Mrs. Evergarden had known what was going on and had been sympathetic to his plight, but that meant everyone knew of what was going on.

Which also meant both Chip and Mr. Dumpling had ammo to use on him whenever they wanted to embarrass him.

None of this was helped by the silk sheets that were now the standard for "Evergarden's Home for Wayward Foals". The soft material likely made it worse.

Then there was school and public life in general.

Smells that didn't affect him before were now hammer blows to his nasal passages. Sitting in class was agony, as he would sprout wood at the first scent of anything feminine. It was a complete mystery as to how the hell these people lived with it.

Thankfully he had discovered a spell that would deaden his sense of smell for a few hours per cast. It had been a lucky find.

During a walk from home, Orion stumbled across city workers in matching overalls preparing to head down into the sewers. As he got closer, he could hear them complaining about a busted line.

Suddenly one of them began casting a spell, not bothering to invert it, and he watched in fascination as a blue hue settled into their noses and faded. "Mortuus Sensu", muted the sensitivity of the targeted sense. Its original purpose had been used for combat applications, but like many things originally used by any military, it found a home in civilian sectors.

Much to his shame when he was practicing the incantation, his thoughts drifted to its original purpose, and he ended up blinding himself. For the next three hours he bumped and tripped into various objects in his room.

He was reminded painfully as he bashed in his shins, knees, and face, that intent is just as important as the math when it comes to casting.

That following Monday, it became quite clear to the few colts that were in his class that something was different. Unlike them, he no longer looked nervous, nor bit his lip in suppressed agony.

It didn't take long before the first one, Magnetic Field, to approach him with curiosity. He pushed away a spiteful thought about withholding the spell, no one deserved to suffer as they were suffering.

An hour later, and the colts of class were breathing easy and able to focus on their class assignments fully once more.

This seemed to piss the fillies off. He suspected they had already been informed why the boys were all uncomfortable and took cruel delight in their plight.

Mr. Cloverfield applauded Orion in his resourcefulness when he found out what he had done. But warned them all that if they used the spell constantly, they would never get used to the scent of mares. So with moderate applications, he and his fellow colts would last as long as possible before finally building up enough of a tolerance that they no longer needed it.

There was still the occasional whiff that would catch him by surprise, but other than that he was fine. Orion now only wished to beat the black manned stallion in front of him with a rolling pin.

"Right, right. That was years ago." The sarcasm. Dripping. "Well since you seemed to be done you can take your share of the….I see you already arranged your breakfast. Should I tell Daisy you'll be up in your room?"

"Naw I'm gonna take a walk after I eat." He replied, already lifting a pastry to his lips as he walked to the door.

It was a newfound freedom he was very grateful for. At fourteen years of age he was now permitted to be out on his own, within reason, and that Mrs. Evergarden or one of the staff knew where he would be at.

"Where will you be headin''?"

"Honestly, I think I'll be ambling along the Artisanal Quarter again. It's Saturday, so there may be some sales going on." That of course, wasn't the reason for his going.

Oh there was a sale, and he was going to the Artisanal shopping center that was also certain. But his destination was a blacksmith shop on the lower east side. That area, while tidy and neat, was considered lower class due to the amount of others living there. Others being non-pony races.

It had been a recent encroachment for ten or so years, something ponies and more specifically, unicorns, were not very happy with. They couldn't really stop it however, and several successful entrepreneurs had made their mark on the second plate.

The one that he had in mind was a smithy run by a father and daughter that happen to be minotaurs. "The Thrown Shoe", a rather inauspicious name, specialized in such designs as fencework, ironwork, and of course horse shoes. Or pony shoes in this case.

There were also examples of wrought iron window work. From the vantage point of passing by the establishment on more than one occasion, he could clearly see the care and passion that went into the pieces on display.

There were other enterprises like theirs in the city. Most on the third plate.

The problem with choosing one of them, was that they were set up for a kind of mass manufacturing. He needed individual instruction and he didn't want to apprentice to a shop that would work him to the bone, and might still not allow him a chance to make what he wanted. And becoming an apprentice was the last option as that would pull time from his studies.

Orion's hand grabbed at crepes no longer on his plate and he sighed heavily. He was eating too much. Chuckling, he placed the plate on his desk and began to rummage through his wardrobe for appropriate wear. "The red shirt?"

Searching for the elusive t-shirt, his mind drifted back to the larger problem.

There was also the issue with the shops on the second plate. All the smiths, save for the "Thrown Shoe", were owned by unicorns. With what he planned to do, had to do, they would know immediately what was up. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt in his mind that they would rat his ass out the very day they figured it out.

That left Master Forager, and his forge.

It was not an appealing option either but it was as good as it was going to get, he saw no other choice but to approach the minotaur. His attempts to make what he was seeking required certain equipment he just did not have, and he didn't want to make any mistakes.

His first experiment a couple of years ago proved to him that telekinesis was not the solution.

So, for months he had been working on his pitch, how to word it without arousing suspicions. Even if he wasn't a unicorn, there was still a massive risk involved in this.

Just how much should he chance was the real question.

He had visited the establishment nearly a dozen times now. Asking questions on metal working and proper heating techniques, and had learned quite a bit, and he was beginning to think he had impressed the old bull with his own knowledge of the craft.

His own private little hole in the wall down in the sewers had begun to resemble more of a forge now than it had before. With the added boon of the ventilation system Canterlot employed working to his advantage, no smoke gave his location away. Instead, air pathways had been routed through the tunnels to expel noxious fumes into the waste water before it all was purified by the filtration plants.

Shaking his head he stuffed a coin purse with extra bits just in case he got hungry. If he kept thinking about luck running out he would talk himself out of doing this. Again.

Besides, he was confident that if shit really did go south, he could always run. He had long since made a bugout bag and left it in his hideaway along with a near completed map of the sewer system itself.

If he was being honest with himself, he was only semi-confident. This was a major gamble just asking the things he was. Had it not been for the fact that he had hit a brick wall in terms of crafting he would not even be doing this.

He absolutely had to have the use of Forager's forge and higher quality steel.

Taking his now empty plate, from where he had left it on his desk as he got ready for his outing, he left his room and locked the door. Being a long time resident had its perks.

Making his way back to the servants' stairs, Orion passed by an empty room and stopped.

There had still been no real replacement for Thorny Branch as of yet. The mare had left the same year she had been hired on in November. No reason given other than family issues and needing to head back west.

It had been a weird goodbye. As she took a step out the door, she looked back at him and a soft smile broke that usually stern expression.

"I think…you will do quite well."

It had stunned him then, and still did so now thinking about it.

During the rest of the fledgling summer and the first couple of months of fall, she had been downright social with him. It was bizarre as hell, and just when he was getting used to the change, she left.

He eyed the door again and sighed. He supposed it didn't matter in the end. Not really.

Turning he bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen to deposit his plate.

Waving bye to Mr. Dumpling he moved out into the hall connecting to the front of the room and smiled as he spotted Mrs. Evergarden amongst a group of newly minted parents. Their eyes locked and he mimed painting to give her an idea of where he was going. She nodded and he waved bye to her as he stepped out the door.

He hoped they liked his crepes.

"Father, that colt is back again." Duula, his daughter, called from the counter at the front of the shop. It was mid-morning, and business was slow. She had opted to attend the storefront, selling off the various busy work pieces they had done together, while he worked the forge for the small projects that had been ordered earlier in the month.

Shoes in this case. Fancy and easily made shoes for ponies with far too many bits and less wits to manage them.

At his calf's call he gave a start. Then a low chuckle. "Back again with more veiled questions, eh Lad?"

The colt was interesting to say the least. Standing at almost six feet tall, the pony was nearly as tall as most stallions double his age. But it wasn't just his height that drew attention.

For a unicorn he was impressively built, his shoulders close to an axe handle across and heavily muscled.

His fur being black as coal would be off-putting for most ponies as they preferred brighter colors, but given Forager's own two toned fur pattern of black and dark brown he felt like the foal was a kin of sorts.

Looking over his shoulder and out into the crowds he could just see him, red orange mane like embers of a forge, bobbing in the press of shoppers perusing the displayed goods on the street.

He was still waiting for the pony's request for apprenticeship. For some days now he had already known what he wanted and had decided to accept him. In fact if he didn't ask before he left today, he would make the offer himself.

Orion Falls was a sharp one. His questions, that poked and prodded at his own knowledge, seemed designed to reaffirm what he already knew. He had an incredible understanding of heat standards, and knowledge of how different types of metal could work together.

His strong arms and shoulders indicate that he relied far more on his physical prowess than the magical one he was born with.

Add that all together, and any smith worth his weight in ore would be a complete muppet to pass up what could be a promising up and coming blacksmith.

Standing up he snatched up a mostly clean rag and started wiping the soot and oil from his hands. With that done he tossed the cloth onto his shoulder and shrugged. The leather apron gave a tug on his fur and reminded him once more of the replacement he would soon have to purchase.

It was so hard to find good leather in this city.

Orion stepped into his shop and blinked to adjust his eyes to the darker interior.

"Hey Mr. Forager. How's the old hammer swinging?" He chuckled, and the old minotaur joined him. The tongue on this colt was unusual considering the innuendos he dropped into casual conversation and always startled him briefly. A far cry from the more prim manners of his society.

"It is swinging just fine, Lad. Come to play twenty questions with me once again?" He pulled out a pair of stools plopping one in front of his guest.

After that first visit he had decided it was best to sit when dealing with the foal. He could get quite wordy when he wanted to know something, and the old bull wasn't as young as he used to be.

Popping a button on the collar of his shirt, red today, the pony took the proffered seat with a rueful grin.

"Why dear, Sir. However, could you have guess?" Another round of shared chuckles as he pulled out a familiar little book of notes.

"Getting right to it today, eh?"

"Alright, Lad. Ask your questions, and I'll see how much I can keep from your prying tongue." He had to be careful too. There were laws in Equestria as old as its foundation, and his business would suffer greatly from violating one of those. And he would not want the colt to get in trouble either.

"So you believe!" He declared in mock offense. "Anyway, I was wondering…"

This was most certainly going to stretch into the afternoon, he caught his daughter's eye and wiggled a meaty finger, thick and strong from working with metal all his life, in a gesture for her to close up shop.

Duula just nodded and grinned in response. She too was pushing for Orion to be an apprentice; she was tired of getting all the grunt work after all.

It was indeed late afternoon when the black colt finally closed his notebook. Much to the old master smith's relief.

As before, he had been exhausting, and his questions more often than not came too close to secrets he could not share.

"And he knew it too. Definitely more dogged this time around."

Figuring they were done, Forager got up to fetch them both some water, they had talked far too long without a refill of the cups that sat at their hooves.

It was time. He needed to make his offer, since it seemed like Orion wasn't going to ask. Timidity in ponies was expected after all, especially stallions, and it seemed the black colt was not as different as he projected.

Coming back from the small kitchen in the back, he was surprised to see the foal standing by the door instead of still being on his seat, looking like he was fighting himself to stay or go.

"Lad. What's wrong? You looked to be at war with yourself." It was more than that, he had the look of a 'taur that had gotten trapped in the Maze, and knew for truth that he put himself there. "Lad?"

"I….shit. I had been beating around the bush about this for the past two visits. And I seemed to talk myself out of it every damn time." He muttered

Forager could only grin.

"Of course I'll take you on as an apprentice. Truth be told you have more knowledge than most of the muppets…" He trailed off at the slack jawed look on his face. It was not a look of delighted surprise. "That's...not what you want?"

"Ha! No. Though the offer is truly appreciated and under other circumstances would actually sound cool to learn. I'm...I'm afraid what I am after you won't be willing to help with, or at least not allow me to."

Despite Orion's language, he had some of the bearing of a noble pony. Maybe this work was beneath him, but still wanted to know what would be involved in his request. But if that were the case, why such intensive inquiries?

"I'm afraid I don't follow, colt. What is it your lookin' for?" He sat down and placed both cups on the floor once more.

If anything the poor colt looked even more hunted. Shaking his head several times, he came back over to the stools and took his own with a heavy, defeated sigh. Picking up the cup, he drained it.

Forager idly wondered how he would handle a real drink once he was older.

"Okay," he breathed out once done, "I need you to listen, and keep an open mind. It's gonna get a little weird."

That got his hackles up. The tone made whatever this colt was planning to say HIGHLY illegal. But…he was curious. And listening would likely not get him in trouble. So he kept his mouth shut, giving a nod for the colt to continue as he tried to settle the butterflies in his stomach.

"Alright, let's see…. Okay, imagine if you will, that there is a resource you need but for whatever reason it either no longer exists and you can't find it anywhere." His guest licked his lips nervously. "Suddenly, it appears again in an unexpected source, and conveniently very close by. Now would you horde this to yourself? Or allow everyone to use it?" He held up a hand as Forager's lips cracked. "Wait. There's more. If you allowed it to be available to anyone who needed it, you run the risk of your foes, detractors, to also have access to it. If left alone entirely it could have effects that would limit your own influence in the market. What would be your decision?"

"Well, that was certainly as vague as one could get, there are lots of resources that can be limited to somepony's reach. What could he…" Something connected the dots in his mind. The vague language, the pointed questions about the best metals and their purity for magic. The implications of what he was saying, and as the foal before him prattled on, he chased the thought into the recesses of his mind. "No, it couldn't be…" His eyes were widening, pupils becoming pin pricks and he could not stop them. Standing up he quickly backed away from Orion, nearly falling over his stool. "It cannot be! There should be none left!"

Alarmed, the black pony leapt from his own stool and backed up sharply as well.

"Lad, are you absolutely sure you're talkin' about what I think you are saying?!" His voice was tight with anger and worry.

A long silence stretched between them, each one looking like they threw themselves into the Maw.

Instead of speaking, Orion pulled a length of cloth from a pouch at his side and wrapped it securely around his eyes. Then he pointed off to the corner.

"There is a family of mice living in the wall there. About ten, but there were eleven about an hour ago. I remember a cat having crossed into the alley behind, and then running out with something in its mouth. I am fairly certain we can both guess what happened." He shakily told the minotaur.

Now, Forager wasn't the most adept at understanding the magic unicorns employed. But it was common knowledge that even inverted spells did not hide the glow of a unicorn's horn. Orion's held no glow.

"It's not possible. He has to have casted a spell before entering my shop!" How long could a spell last after a casting? The longer he thought about it, the angrier he became. Making him panic like that. A calf playing a game in hopes of appearing superior to his peers.

"I know unicorn tricks, foal! And I won't fall fer one of yers!" He roared, causing the pony to jump. He ripped the blindfold away. "You know what?" He loomed into the pony's face. "Yer gonna prove it to me." The accent of his home had begun to lace his voice and he did not care. The nerve of this calf! Trying to make claims to what amounted to a very poor joke. An insult! All the time wasted over him!

He reached out and snatched him by the arm and pulled him toward the back of the forge.

"Wha- Hey?! Let go over me you giant fuck!" Ignoring his protests, he dragged Orion into a back store room just down the hall from his personal rooms and shoved him toward an old table covered with a heavy cloth.

Long ago, when his great-grandfather had first come to Canterlot, the Princess herself gave him a platform. A "Portal Gate" she had told him. Asking if he could somehow repair it.

He couldn't of course, as what was involved was one of the lost arts of Equestria. His grandfather had not been gifted in it at all.

But instead of taking it back, she asked them to search for one who could. A vain hope to be sure as there was none in existence now. That had been some six hundred years ago now. And for six hundred years his family had made a token effort to find one that might repair it. If only for appearances.

He gripped the dusty tarp and ripped it off in anger, dust choking the pair of them before Orion's horn lit up, a pale gold and black, to stamp it back down.

"Jesus Christ Forager, the fuck is wrong w-" The minotaur's big meaty hand fully covered the colts mouth and nose.

"If you want me to believe that you can do that which you claim." His voice no longer shouting, yet still boomed inside the small compartment. With one hand occupied, he thrusted his index finger on his other at the ancient platform that had lain in near perpetuity, only being moved when the table itself began to rot and needed replacement. "You will make that work. Or I'll toss you out on your ear and notify the guards to the airs you're putting on. Let's see how you like the watch being set to hound you and your family."

In his agitation, he had begun to let slip his native tongue more and more. As before, he did not care, this foal would not be allowed to make a fool of him and his family. He shoved him toward the table again. Stepping back he folded his massive arms across his barrel of a chest, blocking the only exit.

Orion slowly turned around, a dark look on his face. The horn came aglow once again and the colt seemed to swell somehow. As if the muscles had taken on sudden mass. Forager's jaw set and he glared challengingly.

Neither pony nor minotaur said a word for long moments as the contest of who would blink first waged between them.

It was the colt that had finally given in first. He had seen the swirl of emotions and thoughts pass through those eyes. He was smart enough to know he was trapped. The look was now resignation, anger, and fear.

Turning around he looked at the gate.

"This fucking thing come with an repair manual at least?" Orion huffed heatedly. "The hell is wrong with it." He was touching it now, hands poking and prodding, pushing on any part that might be movable, his horn casting shadows as his aura followed suit.

"No. No manual. And we never could get it to open. We were told that it had fallen out of alignment with the ether. I don't know what that means, and neither did my great-grandfather who had first received it." He noticed the speculative look in his eye. "What, you actually think you can fix it?" He mocked.

"Maybe, I've never read of the ether, but I think that might be a layman's term for thaumatic field." He must have seen the lack of comprehension on his face, because he explained further as his horn lit up again and he did something to the platform. "It is an ambient magic field separate from all others. The ambient magic field actually, it flows through all life right down to the rocks and dirt beneath us. This device makes use of that field by drawing what is essentially an eternal power supply. The unfortunate bit is that the connection is never truly perfect, and requires regular realignment."

A pop and a hiss startled them both.

The Portal Gate was covered in irregular circle patterns, some interlocking, others running separate to anything else. At that moment, they were rotating rapidly, before suddenly stopping. Each ring no longer looking misshapen.

Forager's arms dropped and he gaped in open astonishment as the top of the plate opened up wide, revealing the inner workings for the first time in what must have been an age. His amazed expression, swung to the foal he had doubted.

"He….he actually knows? How?!" Who had taught him? Was it a family skill kept hidden from Celestia herself? Why would they do such a thing? Questions swarmed his mind like beetles on flesh.

"Please don't be broken, please don't be broken, please- Yes! It's a simple alignment failure. Thank God." He tapped a large ruby. "Okay, maybe not so simple, the regulator is cracked but it looks like it's an easy replacement. The coil was built on the outside instead of within, an interesting choice, but it means I won't have to figure out how to make a new one." Another pause as his hand seemed to trace a pathway through the machine. "Huh."

"What's wrong?" He could not help the pitch in his voice. He felt like a calf again going through his first season, his heart raced in apprehension.

"Wha-. Oh nothing. It's just interesting, is all. Whoever designed and built this, certainly had an artist's hand. Even if no one was ever to see inside, they wanted it pretty. Pretty, but functional." He turned to look at him then. "I can fix this. The power pack," he pointed to a collection of dark blue sapphires set in a row, "is fully intact." He pointed at the ruby which was the size of a goose's egg. "But unless you have a ruby roughly eight or nine grams weight and flawless, I'm not gonna be able to do anything till then."

It was surreal. Never in his life did he imagine that he would run into somepony who might actually be able to repair the Princess's gate. It had been an impossible idea, an inconceivable one. In that moment he was caught up in the excitement of the possibility.

Now here sat a pony, who not only knew how, but had approached him. His throat was dry from a lack of moisture.

Still, he needed definitive proof. He had to know.

"I…" he swallowed thickly, "I believe I have such a ruby."

Orion's eyes lit up in excitement.

"Well what are you waiting for then? You want proof, I'll give ya fuckin' proof!"

In short, if numb, order, Forager retrieved one of three rubies, one being just the right size, from the storeroom just past the one that held the platform.

Accepting it gleefully, the colts' magic flowed over it. "Perfect only one blemish and it's so minor I don't see it actually affecting it at all. The original had like twenty, though those might have formed from use." He chuckled as he yanked the old one out and tossed it over his shoulder to clatter on the floor. "It's funny. The notes I had read said that it had to be perfect. But I think now that might have been the original author's own desire for perfection."

A click sound, and he stepped back.

"Okay, the moment of truth." His horn's glow went from gentle and soft to almost a transparent violent flame of gold and black intermixed with one another. To Forager's eyes it seemed a feeble light. "This is really gonna suck."

"Why?" The old bull asked worriedly.

"Because, I'm not very strong. This is gonna take a lot out of me." Grunted Orion. He bit his tongue and sweat began to bead on his forehead almost instantly.

An aura that mimicked his mana settled into the large blue sapphires, a crackle and then the gems took on their own glow, changing from the black and gold to the rich blue hues. The energy raced from there into the rest of the machine, changing colors rapidly as the filtered through unseen gems in a rainbow cascade of colors.

"Oh I see! That makes sense! Wouldn't want it to overheat after just one use...oh and there are different spectrums too! So the need for a change of color makes sense beyond just aesthetics." The colt's notebook was out again and he was writing for all he was worth.

The minotaur had absolutely no idea what he was going on about, and didn't care in the long run. As more of the gate's systems came online, he was struck with awe and terror.

Awe to see a true Arcanist in the flesh. Terror in what that would mean to the world at large.

The lid to the gate swung closed with a quiet snap. A hiss and a pop seemed to echo in the small room, as the circles that had at one point seemed carved, once again rotated back into their original places into seamless asymmetrical rings once more. Those circles were now softly glowing in a rainbow hue along their edges that pulsed across the plate. Was it done?

"Okay, it's in standby mode. It needs a test run to make sure the connection to the network is still good." He tapped the top on the right hand side, and two slim segmented curved rods rose from inside, accompanied by a soft clacking sound.

A projection of…something shot out the right most pole.

"Huh, holographic display? That's a surprise." He grabbed a box and dragged it over by hand instead of magic.

The blacksmith had noticed that throughout the repair the colt had been sweating profusely. It must have exhausted him to work on the device given his earlier declaration.

It made sense now why his body was so developed compared to his peers.

Clambering up the box and then onto the table, his hooves at first taking tentative steps, he glanced over the image, mumbling to himself.

"Well at least it's in Equestrian, old ass Equestrian. Best to leave the language settings as is. I don't have the time to modernize it, and likely wouldn't even know where to begin anyway." His fingers flew across the image, and to Forager's ears, there was a faint clicking noise. He had no clue what it meant but the colt seemed to take it in stride as if it was expected.

"H-how long?" He asked tentatively.

"Till I can test it? A few minutes. This is a surprisingly advanced piece of tech. I mean...holy shit I got a ping back! There really is an active node still out there. Hmm, looks like it's roughly a hundred and fifty miles away. Due south."

The only thing that was that far south was the Everfree. What could be in there?

"Well, that's a complication."

"What is?" Tired of standing so far back, the old minotaur stepped up next to Orion, looking around his torso.

The "holographic display”, as he had called it, was pulsing in the same rainbow colors as the energy that was flowing through the gate. The words gathering on the screen made very little sense. He was only able to understand one or two sentences fully.

He had never before seen its like.

"Well, it's a complication only for later, I should say. Once maintenance is done, I won't be able to activate this platform again without direct assistance from those with administration access. Meaning there is a lock on unapproved personnel using this. Hmm, “Sol Tu'vy Celeste” and a “Mor'sine Far Lunair”. I can only guess the first might be…Celestia…"

The color drained from the foal's ears, and his eyes grew very wide.

"Forager...where did you get this?" Apprehension was heavy in his voice.

He should have told him while he was waiting, he realized. Considering what was at stake now, he should have been forewarned at the very least. So with trepidation, he told him why this device ended up in his family's possession.

It wasn't really a surprise as to why the colt had gotten so angry after that.

"You know, there were better ways to prove my knowledge. Right?!" Orion rubbed his fist. No doubt worried that he might have sprained it.

For that matter, Forager's jaw felt like it had been knocked clean off.

The moment he had finished his blood's history with the gate and Celestia's involvement, the colt's horn had flared to life suddenly, and he did that strange swelling from before. Before the blacksmith could react, the foal had hit him so hard that he had been slammed into some old wooden boxes. Crushing them, and likely, the contents inside.

Clearly, he had underestimated the foals' abnormal strength and was now quickly realizing this pony was not only stronger than he thought, but dangerous. He could certainly throw a punch!

"I'm sorry, Orion. I didn't think you were capable of even knowing what yer lookin' at. Let alone fix it. Can't you just, unfix it?" He rubbed his jaw. It was going to hurt to eat for a while.

"No, I can't "unfix it!". He mimicked poorly. "I thought about trying to open it back up again to study how it all worked, but of course, there's an anti-tamper protocol of some sort. It keeps anyone from messing with it once it's repaired. A safety measure. That was one of the complications." He spoke heatedly.

"I am so sorry, Lad." And he was because there was more bad news though he knew not how to word it. Or if he should.

"I don't suppose there's a chance Marshmallow has forgotten about this piece of shit, is there?"

Forager winced. Straight to the heart of it, the nickname spoke in such a way that he knew who he had meant.

"She visits every couple of years…"

"And when was her last visit?"

"A couple of years ago…" he responded morosely.

"Obviously, that would be the case. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fucking fuck!" He shouted, throwing his hands into the air.

"I won't tell her who fixed it. Once a month, I send out flyers asking for anypony that might have a talent for it to come in." His surprise that the foal in front of him did not use the usual verbiage of his people had long since been muted, but he still found himself slightly appalled at his tongue now. "I-I can tell her that the fixer never took off their hood or robe, and there was a spell disguising their face and voice. There would be no trace to you!"

It was truly the worst of scenarios, and he was a fool for letting it go so far. The colt tugged an ear and thought.

"You'll have to stage that, you know? To make it believable, have enough eye witnesses to see someone walking through the streets in the evening near here for credibility to the lie. Sooner the better, considering she could just randomly show up at any moment, times against us."

Forager nodded. He did know a griffon down on the third plate who owed him a favor and had been saving the bits to leave Canterlot for a while now. He could arrange something.

"I believe I have somepony for that task. They owe me and know better than to tell a pone, err sorry, what they shouldn't know. I hear he is headed back to Griffonia soon as well, so this will be perfect. For a bit, he will come in late evening and disappear. I'll have to find a quick map of the sewers below my home. There is an entry point in my basement that has been closed off for years. I'll loosen that and he can use that to get out."

Orion grinned.

"Yeah I know all about it. I have a map, I'll bring you a copy tonight. With Miss Thorn leaving a couple of years back I have an easy time leaving the orphanage at any given time now."

"Orphanage?!"

"Lad, you're an orphan?" He was shocked. The foals' bearing, and mannerisms spoke of wealth and privilege. Possibly even lowborne nobility.

"Huh, yeah I suppose my lack of a family never came up in conversation, did it? Well since we are basically becoming co-conspirators, I suppose there's no harm in telling you a little…"

What little there was, was a lot. Things were more than complicated.

"Personal friends with the Princess's student herself! And he is somehow on speaking terms with Celestia too!" The poor colt was mired in the thick of it, and had made it worse by seeking what was essentially forbidden knowledge.

But, Forager found himself actually impressed, even proud, of Orion. Despite everything, his disadvantages not being least, he had persevered where others would have long since given up. There was honor in that, and he would not disparage it. The risk he was willing to take to make up for his shortcomings was nothing short of commendable.

"Lad, I will help you in this thing. Tonight. You will come back here and we will set to making it. I have caused you problems I can not easily fix. Make sure to bring a copy of your map." He shook his head in disbelief.

The colt mentioned briefly that he had nearly mapped the entire sewer section for the second plate on his own. Including several pathways into the third plate. Near the ironworks. Resourceful.

Before Orion left, he turned back to the master smith, his eyes betrayed his worry on an otherwise neutral face.

"Telling you what I have, how can I trust you?" He gestured. "Other than the conversations we have had, you have no obligation not to flip on me and turn my ass in. What's to stop me from running, right now?" He asked soberly.

Forager regarded the colt in front of him. It was a valid worry. In his hooves he too would be concerned for what had been laid bare.

They had walked back into the main portion of his shop, the forge itself, and he looked at the now cool coals in thought.

"I was born in Equestria, Lad. But I spent my early years at home in Minos." He spoke quietly, resting a hand on his anvil.

"As riveting as your life might be, that doesn't answer the question, dude."

"I'm getting to that, colt. Patience." He raised the other hand placatingly. The pony just snorted at that. "As I was saying, I may have been born to the land beneath our hooves, but I am a minotaur of the Great Anvil. I trained, and I studied my craft there. I learned of honor and duty from the Fire Keepers of Hearthstone." He unsheathed his work knife from his belt. "I will tell you a thing, and by the Iron, I will tell you true."

He lifted the hand that had lain on the anvil head and brought the knife to his palm, and sawed into the flesh there. He had done this before, oaths to his daughter, to a worried mare on a pair of wedding bracelets that had cost her everything. Always a small cut from a finger.

The Oath he would make for this colt would be far more substantial. In his curiosity he had endangered the pony, and had heaped many worries on his shoulders.

The blood from his hand splashed across the anvil's surface.

"When a minotaur stains his anvil with his own blood, it is never wiped away, never scoured from the steel." He made a fist to slow the flow as tightly as possible. "We will oil over it, but never remove the evidence."

"Why?" He could hear the slight alarm in his young friend's voice.

"Because it reminds us of an oath. Every time we see that stain, we remember. Cuts heal. Time makes memories fade. But the anvil, Magna To'ka, gifted on our Haragu To'ka, our naming day, keeps the memories and our oaths." He turned to Orion. "No matter the path we choose, we all receive one."

His deep brown eyes locked onto the colt's ever widening gray ones.

"I make this Oath to you now. Marak goda mei savto. I, Forager Cresthammer, shall not tell a soul of what you have said to me. By my Blood, and my Magna, no one shall hear those words utter from my lips. Till Iron rusts, till hammer fails, this Oath shall I keep to you."

To say the little pony was shocked, was an understatement. The spilling of one's blood is considered abhorrent in pony society the world over. So his stunned silence was not unexpected.

What he hadn't anticipated, was for him to step forward and cut his own hand, a much shallower one than his own, and place it on at the base of the bull's own anvil.

"I don't know if this is a sacrilege or not, I don't have an anvil of my own. But…I …uhhh…" He frowned, and Forager waited. "By…my blood, and your anvil, no one will know of the help you have, and will, give to me. Till…hammer and iron fails. That's my Oath to you."

Rough, and entirely out of sorts, and more than a little sacrilegious, the master Smith couldn't help but smile. They were bound to the same secret, and he had a feeling this incredible young stallion was just as firm in his vow as he was in his own.

He nodded at the colt.

"Then we are bound to the same oath." He would not remove the pony's blood. While it would not remind the unicorn, it would remind the minotaur the courage and commitment he had displayed. "Now, you best get going if you are to see me tonight. Remember, the map. And get that treated. No sense in you getting sick."

Orion wrapped his hand in the cloth he once used to prove his abilities and nodded. Without a word, he left.

As Forager began to shut the doors to his shop, he chuckled to himself.

Orion Falls's original plan was to rob him of his tools. The chuckle became a bellowing laugh.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the wall had given way easily under his push. The old bastard had made sure to make it look like it had been a collapsed doorway filled with paved rubble.

He was surprised at how fast the blacksmith had worked in clearing the blockage to the sewer, though he shouldn't have been. Minotaurs were apparently known for the ability to build and forge just about anything.

Only earth ponies seemed close by comparison. Though they focused more on nature and rural communities rather than cities and iron.

Touching his satchel that he had brought with him for what was the thousandth time since leaving the orphanage that night. The map and a detailed blueprint of what he planned to make were still with him. As they had been every time he had checked.

It was dark in the basement, which was expected. Neither wanted to alert anyone of what was going to happen in the basement of the "Thrown Shoe" tonight.

Not that he really needed to see with his eyes.

Navigating the sewers and mapping them out had been a breeze thanks to the Presence enchantment. Not only had he known where he was at any spot down below, it allowed him to avoid sewer workers when they were out repairing breaks or inspecting systems, and darkened areas of the complex tunnels were no bar to his passage.

Walls and floors didn't have life of course, save for the occasional vermin, but the ambient magic in the air flowed differently through them than empty space.

He opened the door of the basement to a softly lit hall, the stairs at the end going up into the shop proper.

To anyone else, it would look as if the smith were getting some last minute work done. All for the better, the risk was already far beyond what he thought was sanely safe.

He flexed his hand. Mrs. Evergarden had been really upset with him when he had gotten back with that cut. The excuse that he tripped and fell on a sharp grate made her damn near lose her mind.

It was healed now, but he could still feel a twinge. Perhaps his own reminder?

Which only refreshed in his memory the reason for that cut. His mind drifted to the task at hand.

The Portal Gate had been an incredible study, however briefly, of the surprisingly advanced enchantments within the unit. It had been fortunate that he had gotten the opportunity in truth. Because he realized there had been several errors in his original design, errors that he knew would not work, forcing him to redraw his plans.

Instead of taking a nap like he should have, he had instead, busted his ass reworking the blueprints in his room with the new values being taken into account. He had finished long after the staff turned in for the evening. Thank God for summer vacation cause he was sleeping all day tomorrow.

Unless of course he was too excited to sleep. If this worked as intended, he might never sleep again.

Getting to the top he noticed with relief the windows had been covered up, and the forge was already lit, providing a breathy ambiance of secret works.

In the corner, an anvil sat with two ingots of metal, the hoped for steel, waiting. The anvil was different from the one he had bled on earlier, but it was the other two items that had caused his eyebrows to raise.

A pair of amethysts and a coin purse he could only assume was gold. Those purple gems were much larger than the ones he had brought.

"I figured those slivers wouldn't cut it for what you plan. So I figure we can use those. The bits, well, my flyer states a handsome reward after all for fixing that platform." He gave a rueful chuckle. "The night is waning, shall we get started?"

Orion only nodded. The moment he had been told they were for him, he had scanned the gems. They were not castaways. These were flawless.

Picking up the pair of ingots he shoved them into the fire with levitation alone, no need to use tongs when he had learned how to insulate the spell from being warped by the heat.

As Forager pumped the bellows, heating the coal and thus the steel, the colt stripped his shirt off and slipped on the leather vest and apron that had been set aside for him. The old Bull really had wanted him as an apprentice if he had already gone so far as to prepare like this. It was a shame he could not reciprocate.

A last second decision made him pick up a five pound hammer and tongs. Careful to ignore the thoughtful smile and nod from Forager, he tested the metal, as it had become white hot. The heat was making him break out in sweat just from sheer proximity alone.

Nothing in the book or his research said he had to handle the metal with magic. Just that he would have to suffuse his essence deep into the metal, gold, and gem. He had to bond them as if they were born as part of him.

What he was about to do wasn't entirely of Artification itself.

In his pursuit of correcting what was wrong with his ability, he had discovered it was a biological issue rather than a curse. His horn, flesh even, was not fully pony.

Hybrids like hippogriffs couldn't stay in the air as long as their griffon and pony parentage would have been able to. Instead they had discovered their ability to cut through the water making them excellent fishers and oyster farmers.

Their small nation of Neighbon bordered both the countries of Equestria and Griffonia. A cast of territory no one had wanted. What had been a collection of sleepy fishing villages, now had become the center of commerce and trade in that area, the Neighbonians proving to be more than competent merchants in their own right.

Orion shared much in common with that race that held two different species within their blood. And half of that was not magical in the slightest.

So he had begun to study anatomy. More importantly, how and why the unicorn horn worked the way it did. What he had found depressed him. He lacked, well maybe lacked was too strong a word, but he had less of a certain organ in his head that attached to the horn directly.

The Thaumic Gland was present in most intelligent life in this world. Ponies however, had a larger than normal one as compared to griffons or diamond dogs. Depending on what race you were, its location in the brain could either be on top, the frontal lobe, behind the horn itself. On the back, occipital lobe, nearest the wings while still being attached to the mind. Or at the bottom, attached to the temporal lobe. Which would be closest to what earth ponies could use.

Other races seemed to carry the same, in one fashion or another.

The Thaumic Gland allowed for the interaction between ambient magic, and whatever the race happened to be. Because of Orion's heritage, his must be very small, though he had not yet confirmed it with a doctor's visit. Surprisingly no one had seen to actually checking on that. Tonight, he was going to make sure they no longer had a reason to.

What he planned to make here, during what many would call the witching hour, was two bands that would interact with his own magic. Replacement Thaumic Glands as it were. Part one, was suffusing the metal in his genetic magic, raw and unfiltered.

Picking the steel up again, now white hot, he set it to the anvil and began to beat the steel into submission. Memories of his grandfather guiding his hands as sparks flew into the air around him.

His strokes were good. Steady and even. Almost as if he had been born with a hammer in his hands. Oh how he wished he could apprentice him.

It had been a surprise when instead of using magic, he had picked up the hammer and tongs instead.

The colt's horn, feebly fighting the light of the forge with its own glow, had already begun infusing the raw mana required into the metal he had begun to shape. He suspected no pony had ever thought to try something like this before, this was going to be something new.

They had measured his arms before he had left earlier in the day. His first idea of having a horn ring had long ago been abandoned before Forager had ever learned of it. Too obvious, and these must be hidden for the deception he had planned to work.

The arm bands had been decided upon because of one of his more interesting after school activities. Interesting in the fact that it wasn't common for a unicorn stallion, much less a colt, to choose to do it at all.

Orion Falls, save for Sundays, regularly attended a house of iron known as "Iron Wills Gymnasium". It was that main reason for the developed body he now bore. Many seekers of muscle used bands to measure progress, once they began to get too tight they would replace them for new.

It was impressive, and his dedication was clearly in evidence as each hammer stroke hit hard, with the same force being applied evenly throughout the metal as it began to take the shape of a large ring with the use of the horn at the end of the anvil.

One of the amethysts rose from where it had been moved to a bench, as well as several coins of gold from the pouch sitting next to the gems. The latter had begun to melt as it passed near the forge fire, impurities suddenly finding themselves dropping to the ground like so much refuse.

The old bull had to admit, that was impressive, more so to the fact that Orion's eyes never left what he was doing. As he thought about it, he realized he could not imagine the extraordinary amount of focus one would need in order to work material they were not even looking at.

Maybe it wasn't as much cheating as he originally thought.

Cutting the circle in two pieces, one slightly smaller than the other, Orion set about sizing them to fit snugly together as one piece. He must have planned this for months, the sureness in his progress never wavered.

Once completed, he allowed the metal to cool. But as it did, Forager could see the black and gold flames of his magic begin to make grooves into the steel. It was an agonizingly slow process to watch.

Several times he was forced to stop and put the steel rings back into the coals. To be banked up to an orange hue as his magic continued to twist the softer metal nearby into thin little wires that formed strange angular lines. At the end of each dead end was a tiny…something. It was then he realized that they were diamonds of all things. What was their purpose? Where had he gotten them?

The amethyst drifted over and was entwined in a complicated mesh of gold wire.

"Now, the tricky part." Muttered the colt.

Forager looked on in awe as the yellowed bands flexed momentarily around the goldwork and gem, then sealed themselves back at a torturous pace.

Setting aside the hammer and tong, the colt concentrated solely on the steel circle that was now slowly cooling.

It suddenly lifted, shaping itself perfectly oval. The heat it emminated lessened, but the brightness seemed to surge wildly for a moment.

Suddenly, and without any warning, the steel dulled, as if it had been done a day ago. The now completed band, unless he missed his guess, gently settled back down on the anvil. What had been forged as one, now only had a line running along the edge, on top and the bottom. How had he kept it separated like that yet still sealed perfectly?

Orion's breath was ragged. Sweat poured off the colt as if he had worked in the forge for twelve hours and no break. Perhaps it's not cheating after all to use magic in such a way.

"Lad, is it done?" He spoke up after a minute, surprised at his own hoarseness. He was nervous about the entire undertaking.

Wiping sweat from his brow, the pony straightened. "Only one real way to find out." He hesitated, and then picked up the ring.

The weak flame that was his magic transformed into a roar without sound. He dropped it even faster than he had picked it up.

"Holy fucking shit." He breathed.

"What was that?!" He had not remembered falling on his rear, but there he was huddled into the corner in surprise.

"That," still panting, "was a floodgate. I was already holding as much power as I could when I grabbed ahold of the thing." He chuckled. "Lets…uh let's try that again."

Magic winking out he picked up the ring again and slipped it over his right arm, nestling it right on the bicep.

"Gonna take this a little slower." His voice, barely audible now, shook slightly as he spoke more to himself than the minotaur in the room.

Remaining where he was planted, the old smith could only nod dumbly. He had, of course, expected something like this. Given earlier events and all. But this. This was in many ways an order of magnitude more impressive. Orion had developed this all on his own, from scratch, as opposed to following a blueprint already developed.

Once again the colt's horn began to glow. Instead of the feeble aura that always seemed to be barely there, now a solid mass of black and gold flame fought for supremacy between its own hues. Like a torch with no heat.

Balls of light blossomed around him. Five, ten, twenty. They grew brighter. Forager's head turned away from the display, and still the brilliant light grew. It was like being in the same room as the sun itself, even squeezing his eyes shut could not block it all out.

Just as it had begun, the light began to fade. Opening his eyes, he worried that he had been blinded, barely seeing the tack and tools on the walls around him. Blinking, his vision began to adjust, and he beheld something he never imagined this tough willed foal doing.

Tears streamed down Orion's face, past closed lids as he hung his head. A small smile on his face.

"Lad, it seems as if you've done it." He said as he heaved himself up into his hooves once more.

"Yeah…" In the colt's other hand, was a second ring. Already formed and, he suspected, finished. "Had to cheat on this one." He laughed. He laughed, and tears streamed down his cheeks in a flood.

Clean up had been quick after that. Unfortunately, in his haste he had melted the anvil crafting the second one by memory alone. The overwhelming amount of power he had never felt before had almost been too much to control. So of course there would be collateral.

To say Forager was upset was an understatement. But he didn't seem too pissed off. The anvil had just been a spare he had decided Orion would use rather than his own. Just in case there was an accident.

In any case, he had done it. He overcame his disability in spectacular fashion.

Laying in his bed, an hour before dawn he couldn't help but channel his magic again. In the mirror across from him he could see the powerful glow wrapping his horn.

His magic.

He couldn't help but notice that unlike many auras he had seen, his was the only one to look like a torch. The flame dancing on an unseen breeze was mesmerizing. He wondered if he had done something wrong to get that effect. No. Back in Manehattan he had starred in the mirror as he worked his abilities just to lift books. It had always been like fire. If far more transparent than it was now.

He would have to play this safe when revealing his newfound strength, no sense in arousing suspicion with a sudden explosive show. Though, he wondered just how strong he was now.

As eager as he was to get back into school, and more importantly, the newer studies he would now be able to explore he was still grateful for the rest of August to practice with his new enchantments.

He touched the bands. No scan should reveal their duplicitous nature. No one would be able to use them as they were tuned only to him.

One of the surprises, and something he had left out in explaining to the old bull, was that the anti-tampering matrix functioned in masking the entire unit. No magical scan he knew or read about would have been able to detect it. Only the maker would know where to open it up once again, and he or she was long dead.

Given the apparent age of the machine, and machine it was for all its magical properties, was old. Very old. Judging by the ruby he had pulled from the regulator, it could be five hundred years, or even a couple of thousand. No way of knowing without some kind of test.

Still, it was impossible judging from the way it was constructed to know its age. The book did discuss ancient devices that were thousands of years old. But if that were the case, where did it come from? How had the Princess gotten it? How had it lasted this long without falling apart? He only understood the very basics of the writing on that display, lettering he had never seen before dominated the user tab. What language was it? Just as worrisome, the ping. There was another out there still fully functional some hundred and fifty miles away. Still fully functional, that bothered him. Why was it still working when the other had ceased?

These thoughts also brought a last question. One of which despite everything anyone has told to him, including history books, he denied as lies and propaganda.

Just how old was Princess Celestia?

With a forbearant smile, Celestia listened to yet another inane complaint that really should have gone to the city Magistrate. That was what bureaucracy was for after all. Somepony else to shoulder the work that really didn't need her input.

Which is of course, exactly what she would tell this chit of a foal. The mare had actually thought she would somehow intervene in a fencing dispute. The nerve. This was beneath her. All of it.

"Lady Quartz. I must remind you that this is not an issue for this Court to mediate in." She said with the same practiced smile and poise she had perfected over the course of thousands of years. While inside she simmered. What she wanted to do was snatch the foal up and hurl her out of her courtroom. Out of the city if she was allowed to throw as hard as she wished.

But that's not the way things are done these days. Sadly, the moments of true contentions between ponies of true Noble hearts, who bared their blades to defend what was right was long lost to the past. She missed those days, there was an honesty to the political maneuverings of old.

Now she had to deliberate herd politics, and who takes priority for a stallion. Never enough of those in her opinion. The stallions, not the silly little arguments.

A pair of long molted horns caught her attention. Forager Broadhammer had someone entered her audience chamber without her noticing. Her facade almost cracked at the sight of the minotaur. She was not used to seeing him in a dress suit. Green and brown simple woolens cut in a high fashion for his people. What confused her further was the massive broad smile that threatened to break his face.

"What under the sun is he doing here?" She mused.

Behind him a squad of guards struggled with something under a tarp, it looked heavy judging by the strain on their faces. What had he brought her?

"Did I commission something?" That could be the only reason the smith would be here. But for the world she could not recall what.

"Princess?" The lady Rose Quartz spoke up questioningly, a hint of annoyance in her tone.

Suppressing an audible groan, she turned her attention back to the task at hand. It was rare for her to become so off target when it came to her duties, no matter how monotonous.

"I am sorry Lady Quartz," it paid to be nice even if you wanted to throttle somepony, "something had occurred to me. In any case, as for you, you will have to redirect your issue with the offices of Magistrate Varnish. This is his area of expertise, and through which the complaint on your fence originated." She chided gently. The simmer had become a low boil that she fought to control.

"Arrogant whorse." It was an unkind thought, but she hated having to go through the same song and dance. Each generation seemed to have to relearn the same lesson the previous one had learned. Repeated often as well in the case of her visiting nephew.

Dismissing her latest supplicant, she rose from her seat, and a gasp rang out. She wanted to roll her eyes.

It had become a rare occurrence when she would suddenly move from her throne during the middle of Court. Such happenings usually meant an emergency. She ignored the increased murmurs as she stepped from the dais with a graceful prance.

It was wonderful to stretch her legs.

"Master Broadhammer!" She called out in glee, the smile she bore was a genuine one if reserved, she was grateful for his visit, and more importantly, the interruption from the routine. "It is an unusual event to find you outside of your forge! What brings you here today, and with such a pleasant atmosphere?"

At her words, the master Smith paused, uncertainty in his eyes. Bowing low he averted his gaze.

Curious.

"Your highness! It is good to see you in such good health. Praise be to you, and the sun you grace us with!" That got appreciative sounds from the onlookers.

There had been rumors, as there always were, of her claims to be the sun's herald in recent years. Some with actual proof, not that the common pony could understand what it truly meant. In Forager's greeting, it reaffirmed to others his continued belief of her power over the heavenly sphere. Of minotaurs belief in general at the very least.

Silencing those rumors had been trying. She regretted having to put those that called her false, to the question then executed quietly, but she could ill afford the repercussions should anypony actually begin to believe them. She would not have the security of her nation risked because someone had figured out what they shouldn't.

Though she knew it was only a matter of time, she wished to delay that inevitably for as long as possible.

"Thank you my little minotaur, it is wonderful to see you in such good countenance yourself. If you would not mind me asking once more, what brings you to my Court this fine Thursday?" While happy with the distraction, she wanted this over quickly as Day Court would take even longer to get through than usual.

That uncertain look had entered his eyes once more. She had forgotten what actual fear looked like in a minotaur. Save for a few of the more adventurous or career driven, few left the isolated nation of Minos, so it had been a long time since she had glimpsed that look on any of them. Like a warrior knowing they may die today.

The last had been an unsanctioned assassination attempt some eight hundred years ago. She banished the thoughts away, where was her mind today?

"Forgive me, Highness. Normally I would wait and send word, but this was too important to let go a day. Last night somepony answered my flyer." He spoke clearly, yet slow, as if unsure of how to begin.

"Flyer? I'm afraid I don't understand." Most curious.

"Princess, as you know, you entrusted an item to my family many centuries ago." He began.

"No…" Her eyes widened.

"I, Forager Broadhammer, am pleased to return it to you now!" He beamed before shooing away the Guardsmares that surrounded the thick workmares' cloth.

"...impossible."

With a flourish he whipped the tarp off, folding it in quick rolls, and there sat the Portal Gate. The very same that she had first given his great-grandfather.

At first she saw nothing on the surface of that device. A slow pulse of green from a light near the right side caught her attention quickly, and she hissed through her teeth.

It was ready for activation.

Crossing quickly and channeling her magic, the brilliant golden glow suffusing into the ancient machine, she nearly jumped when it responded and deployed the main arcon bars. The display burst to life just to the right side.

"You fixed it...how?!" She rounded on him, Royal composure gone.

Caught like a foal with his hand in the cookie jar, all the master smith could do was gabble incoherently. Shutting his mouth and eyes for a moment, he breathed slowly before beginning.

"Last night, just before closing, a... individual? I don't know if they were pony or not. Came into my shop with one of my flyers. It was torn, and old. But they still held it."

So it wasn't him. Well perhaps it had been too good for the Artificer to be right in front of her.

"They wore a cloak with a hood attached, and despite the heat in my forge, never took either off. Their voice was garbled and even the lights from my fire could not illuminate what was under that hood. It was dead black, your highness."

He jumped and she smoothed her face. Now she knew why he had been so uncertain, so fearful. Forager had known she would not be happy with the news.

It was tempting to cast a lie detection spell, but as it had been one of those that had been purposely hidden away, she refrained. In private audience was one thing, but this would be another as public as it was.

She nodded for him to continue, and tried to smile, judging by his face it was a sickly looking thing. So she schooled her features to neutrality in hopes of easing his anxiety.

"A-as I was saying, your highness, I could not see who they were. Nor tell what gender they might be. I am so sorry!"

"Hush now, short of physically restraining them I don't know what you might have been able to do." They were the right words. But the simmer that had nearly vanished flashed to a boil, that threatened to flashfire. "Tell me what you can."

"Well, I uh, that is I took them back into the storeroom my family had kept the device for years, and told them what you had told my great-grandfather, Torlain." He fiddled with his coat's sleeves for a moment before continuing. "I have had pretenders before, but before I had finished my tale, they had opened the platform."

Her throat tightened. "They had already known how to open it?!" She nodded again, not trusting her voice to make a comment.

"They...uh they demanded a red ruby from me. Your highness, they frightened me so I gave in quickly. Before too long they had it doing just what you yourself has made it do." He finished in a rush. It was not fear, but terror that made him finish so quickly.

Taking a step back she eyed the gate device once more. There on the display, was her sister's gate, pulsing green like the ready light near the archon bar on the surface. She pressed the activation button.

A luminescent rainbow hue of light shot forth from both sides forming a massive oval between the bars. Through the multi-colored brilliance, the old library of the Castle of the Two Sisters shimmered into existence.

She felt the tears drip from her eyes as she beheld a sight she had last seen a thousand years ago.

"Wh-what hap….what happened to the creature responsible?" She could not help the waver in her voice. The anger from before had finally faded away, instead replaced with an emptiness that threatened to deposit her on the purple rug covered floor.

"They...they refused to stay, and after collecting payment, had left." Of course they would. Why she could easily guess. Being possibly the only one of their kind in Equis made them beyond valuable. The fact that they left so quickly meant they knew it as well as she.

After a certain amount of time, the portal shut itself down. Cutting the sight of her old home and her sisters darkened doorway from view.

She blinked away the tears, even going so far as to wipe some of them away.

"You saw nothing of their appearance?" Artification was an art any species might be able to learn. One of the few skills to be so. Celestia couldn't look at him, or anypony for that matter.

Her question got about what she had expected.

"No...your highness. Again I cannot…" Her upraised hand stopped him.

She could dig through his mind, she was sorely tempted to, but the action would leave him a vegetable. Besides, his fear felt genuine. While not so gifted in reading the emotional energies that rolled off a pony like Candace, it was plain on his face that he worried about his failure to discover the identity of this mysterious enchanter.

"Princess! Princess Celestia! What is all this? What was that?!" She wanted to grind her teeth.

Jet Set was an up and coming noble, one of the few stallions to hold a court rank due to his parentage. He was demanding, impetuous, and oftentimes rude to her station. Being male, he was protected by necessity rather than right from the harsher punishments she would give to a mare acting in the same manner. A fact of knowledge he took advantage of far too often. He had the mannerisms of the Pretty Stallions in the past. Though he did not have with him a coterie, nor did he abuse mares in that way. She shook her head.

Jet would have to be answered, not for his knowledge, but the entire hall would need to be informed. Rumor would soon get out, and best it be controlled now and sanctioned by her than for it to run rampant.

"Lord Set, I would appreciate it if you watch your tone." She couldn't entirely stop the growl in her voice. "As to your questions, this is a Portal Gate. This," she gestured with a finger, "is an enchanted item."

Of course there would be gasps of surprise from the onlookers. Every noble in the nation knew what it meant. But she finished for posterity if nothing else.

"There is an Artificer within the nation of Equestria. One, and by Master Broadhammer's account, that likely has already left the city."

The uproar shook the walls, the very windows, of the court. Had she been any less than what she was, her voice might have joined them.

"SILENCE!" It wasn't often Celestia used the Royal Voice. But she was not about to get a headache on top of the stress of needing to find this mysterious enchanter.

As one, the ponies and dignitaries all quieted. The absence of any noise made the stillness somehow louder.

"I shall make preparations to have a search sent out." Though she had little hope of them being found so easily. "I wish all here to alert your own houses and soldiers to make a watch in the towns and villages under your stewardship." She suppressed a sigh, the idea of involving them in this rankled. "There is to be a reward of one million bits. Royal Weight." She had spies in most houses, she would know if they found them.

Of course that spurred even more murmurs, fortunately they hadn't risen anywhere near the volume from before. The amount was massive, and her next announcement would likely produce a small rumble.

"Also a bounty of the same and half again for our mystery individual if they should decide to turn themselves in." That wasn't very likely if they fled to begin with. But if they could be motivated by money once, they very well might be again.

Once the small uproar had settled again she turned to Master Broadhammer. She ran the numbers in her head. She would have to adjust for inflation, and she blinked. That was a lot of bits she had offered originally.

"As for you, Master Broadhammer, I grant thee the boon of two million bits. Non-Royal Weight gold." Not as heavy, but still an absolute substantial amount of currency. "In service of the throne, and myself personally. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have given me back a piece from the past that I felt may have been lost forever. I am truly indebted to you and your family for the vigilance you all have shown." He would have to be watched of course, and interviews would need to be done to confirm his story. Not that she actually disbelieved what he had said, but it always paid to be careful.

Day Court would have to be dismissed. Her mind was in too many places at the moment to actually be of any use in deliberation. Not to mention there was so much to do now. The creature, likely a pony or so she hoped, had at least a twelve hour head start on her.

"Day Court is dismissed."

Maybe she could test Twilight with this working gate. After all, the filly's gift with magic was extraordinary. Maybe she wouldn't have to hunt down this Artificer after all.

Too many maybes.

"Okay, Jesus that's a lot of fucking cash." Orion had goggled at the idea of so many bits being offered for anything. Least of all himself.

Oh sure back on earth that was chump change. But here it was an entirely different matter. One could raise their own lordship with that much hard assets at their fingertips.

On top of that was what Forager had gotten, and holy shit that was somehow even more, if only just.

"Aye, Lad." The bull had been floored by the amount himself from what he spoke of. He was now eligible for retirement, and his daughter wouldn't have to lift a hammer again either. "But the important thing is that I think she believes what I said for true. And for that, all the better."

The colt shook his head, not that either could see each other, speaking through the false wall as they were.

"I wouldn't count on it. Be careful for the next couple of months, I'm afraid I won't be able to come in the front door anymore. Just to be sure." He paused a thought creeping in that had been plaguing him more and more. "Hey, is Celestia really as old as they say?"

There was a rough chuckle from the other side of the wall. "Why Orion, you don't believe in your Princess?"

In response he scoffed before replying, "Common folk have a habit of stretching the truth to fit them. Governments will reconstruct the past to suit them. Who or what is to say that the Princess hasn't had a bloodline carrying on a farce for over a millennia."

A pause. Longer.

"You don't trust anything do you, Lad."

"Not without verifiable scientific proof I don't. She's damn powerful, I know that just being in the same fuckin' room with her." That had frightened him more than he let on. "But for someone to claim; "she has existed since time immemorial", is too much for me to take at face value. The Great White Marshmallow has to have had a birthdate."

More chuckling.

"Orion, I met her when I was half your size, and I am much much older than I was then. I tell you the truth, she has not changed. Not a gray hair on her."

Wonderful, she might just be immortal after all. Well if he couldn't verify her status on age, he could at least debunk the idiotic claim they all made about her controlling the sun. That was absurd.

Well, it was now a waiting game. One he was not keen on playing.

"So, anything else or should I go before someone watching your shop gets suspicious about where the hell you went to. Oh, did your friend already leave?"

"Ah yes, he did indeed. Last night in fact, and as far as I know, no pony had stopped him. I gave him enough bits that he will likely make all haste to get back to that little village in the Garberithian Mountains in Griffonia. Given the amount of bits he's carrying, he probably won't even stop to preen."

The name of the mountain range gave Orion pause. "Certainly a mouthful. Was that to the east or north of the capital…?" He shook his head. It didn't really matter.

"Well let's hope he got over the border first before making a beeline to his, what do they call it? A roost? Nest?"

"Roost sounds right, though I admit I don't know for sure." The master smith chuckled. Seemed full of laughs today. Then again, he did just make two million bits in a single day so he supposed there was a reason for his mirth.

"Eh, there's no fuckin' griffon here to correct us anyway. So yeah roost, I hope he gets there, but for both our sakes he better have taken the advice you and I hashed out."

During clean up that night, he had made several suggestions on how his feathery friend could get across the border without being caught. Sneaking across at low light being prominent among those.

"Relax, Lad. He may have a drinking problem but he does know how to follow instructions." He changed the subject. "How goes…the practice?"

Orion opened his mouth, and shut it again. Truth was he was having difficulties controlling how much mana poured out. So far it was either bonfire horn, or sputtering uselessness.

Tweaking the bands now was impossible. Unlike with the Presence bead, everything had been molded as one. There was no way to pull it all out without destroying it. He was forced to either make due, or risk being discovered making another set that would be weaker.

The only upside to any of it was the enchantment not being wrapped around the entire circle. He had intentionally left space so that he could simply expand the muscle bands with more steel later on.

He would get bigger, both in height and in mass, provided he continued with the gym training. Which now, after so many years, he had come to enjoy the strain and burn from a few hours pressing iron or running the mill.

Besides, he was enrolled in a martial course that focused on a kickboxing style routine. Even had a few take-downs mixed into it.

Still the issue with his new bands remained, but there was progress. If ungodly slow.

"It's rough," he finally said, "the flow of mana is far greater than I was expecting, and years of operating at a loss has left me unprepared for this new force. I am making improvements, but they are slow."

"Aye, I expected that to be the case. You know, I have a question I hadn't thought to ask Saturday." Forager said. There was a light thump, which either meant he tapped his hand against the wall, or was leaning against it with his body.

"Shoot. I got time for it." He had all day, Mrs. Evergarden was at Central Station collecting a new group of orphans. The guard post inside the station would make a chore of the paperwork.

"I noticed something twice that night. The first time was when you and I had that little match of wills. The second time was when you actually hit me. If I hadn't been paying attention I might not have noticed, but Lad, you got bigger. How?" That last was delivered a little harshly. The bull's ego was still a little bruised at being knocked down by a brat less than half his age.

Orion wondered just how old the smith actually was.

"Oh that. Well...hmm. How do I explain it?" He poked his chin thoughtfully. "Okay. Do you know the difference between an earth pony and a unicorn? I mean besides the obvious."

"No, I can't say that I do. What are you gaming at?"

Oh boy, he was in for a bit of an explanation.

"Alright from the top then. As you no doubt know, earth ponies are, by and large, the most physically powerful and longest lasting when it comes to stamina. There are exceptions of course, mostly among the pegasi tribe, but for the most part that is true. Well a couple of years ago Twilight sent me a book that came with many others."

He hadn't expected her to forgive him for a long time after what he had said that night on the castle steps. But by the end of the following summer, they were thick as thieves once more.

Since then, the filly had hammered him with a monthly book delivery, provided he returned the ones she had sent the following month. Chocked full of random subjects.

Apparently it had been decided that he was not allowed back in the Great Canterlonian Library for the next five years. Which sucked ass because he was sure there were more Artification books scattered within just waiting for him to copy down.

He read what he wanted, and had time for, and would then send the rest back in a timely manner. But one day he found a book by a unicorn named Barley Top. It was called ,"A Unicorn's Guide to Earth Strength and How It Can Work for You".

A long title for sure, but the contents were invaluable.

Barley was a mare who grew up in the farm community of Wheatville, south of Trottingham. From the pages he recognized a pony's desire to help her friends. Earth ponies to be precise. But they liked to do things the good ol' fashion way.

So she made a study of their abilities. He continued.

"One of those books was a subject on the abilities of earth ponies and how a unicorn might use it for themselves. The author had made a rather thorough examination."

"So you essentially hit me with an earth pony's... strength?" There was a bit of shock in his voice. Orion chuckled.

"Oh yeah, heh. Downside is I can't maintain it at that level for more than two minutes. Better to parcel it out in fits and spurts and only when I really need it. I am close to something better, but that comes with its own complications."

That was putting it mildly. The spell he had cobbled together left him winded beyond belief and feeling like he took a jog in an active volcano crater. He was going to have to figure out a safe way to dispel the heat build up, otherwise he was wasting his time.

"Remind me to never try and corner you again." Came Forager's barely audible reply. This was annoying, he had to listen carefully, and most of what he did hear he had to run through his head a couple times to make sure he heard him correctly.

The idea of a walkie talkie floated in his head. "Could work…"

"Sure thing. Okay, if nothing else I'm gonna bounce I have about two weeks left before school starts and I want to at least try and get these fuckin' bands under control. I might have something for you in a few weeks should it work properly. Till then, watch your ass."

The smith gave him a grunt of acknowledgement, and what could be taken as goodbye.

Heading back the way he had come, turning up the range of the phoenix hair bead, the third version of the Presence enchantment. This one now allowed for not only modulation in range and pitch, but also building structures could be clearly mapped in better fashion. Not to mention his carving ability was getting much better.

It made for a headache being inside a city and all, but it had its own selection system so he kept that dialed down to only a couple of feet.

"Maybe I should call it Radar." He had been trying to come up with a better name than Presence. The spell's name was dumber than hell.

Pausing under a, ponyhole, he closed his eyes and focused on the alley above him. It had been his way in and out of the sewers for the better part of four years now. His little storeroom, hidden behind a rather sophisticated illusion enchantment, sat not too far away.

A scan wouldn't even pick up the room now, using the same anti-tampering tech as the portal gate used, had rendered it undetectable. With an increase in his power, thanks to the bands, he was now capable of improving his craft in ways he had only dreamed.

"Whew, won't have to wait." No one was there, though a close call early on had him never making that mistake again. Quickly replacing the lid, he peered down both ends, as he cast Freshen upon himself. Didn't want the sewers' lovely aroma to give him away. Never hurts to cover as many possibilities as he could, though that might be his paranoia over the fact that Celestia now knew someone could use Artification for themselves now.

With a self satisfied smile he headed toward the nearest exit. Later tonight he would come back and head to his lab. He wanted to tinker and wasn't sure what to do. But he had some ideas.

Celestia rubbed her temples in exasperation, she could not believe this happened. "How did it happen?!"

In her throne room stood her nephew, hunched over the back of a wheel chair that held his son, Golden Trot. Blueblood's right arm was in a sling, though Dr. Tourniquet had said his injuries were superficial.

Golden however, was far worse for wear. Both legs had been snapped at the cannons, crushed really. He had at least three ribs that were also reduced to splinters as well as his right arm having been shattered.

Bruises could be seen through his snow white fur, where fur was exposed. The swelling of his left eye made her want to wince.

According to her Guards' report, his friends had not fared much better.

Most bizarre of all, was Orion Falls.

Shirt torn to shreds, scuffed, but otherwise whole and hearty. Though he too sported a bruised right eye, the swelling was not quite at the level of Golden Trot's own. His pants had miraculously survived with not a mark on them. At least from what she could see.

A split lip completed his own mussed up look. That and the multitude of chains currently weighing him down. Neck, arms and his legs, all leading to six Guardsmares gripping them with apprehension.

Next to them was at least one other guard with a spear pointed at the black foal.

"-demand his immediate incarceration! To be hung from the wall facing the sun on-" She had been tuning in and out of Blueblood's speech for the past ten minutes. Mostly because she was still trying to wrap her mind around what had happened.

A brawl had broken out, and so far it had been laid all at Orion's hooves. He hadn't even spoken out to defend himself. He just stood there, looking for all the world like a bored colt in church. Did he just yawn?!

"Enough!" She did not shout, but she would no longer listen to her nephew's prattle. He was a Prince through Platinum's bloodline alone, and only because she had such great respect for the long since departed mare. His mother had been much the same as he was now. Foolish and petulant.

"I have heard a great deal about his supposed attack upon you and your son, Prince Blueblood." She glared at him when it looked like he would resume. The sullen look was noted as he snapped his lips shut. "But as a ruler, I would be negligent if I did not hear from the accused."

She looked at Orion then and he blinked as if he had just been brought back to the present.

"Oh? Is it my turn now? I'm sure the old Bag-of-wind here can go for another hour with his demands." No pony moved.

She had not thought he would have the gall to be so flippant, considering the situation.

"Orion, this is a rather serious issue." She admonished in a deadpan tone.

"Oh I know it is, but I'm not about to stand here and listen to Blueballs here run his mouth on and on about the same thing. So I just wanted to be sure he had gotten all of...whatever it was he said, out of his system. To subject my brain cells to suicide by listening to him would be far to much of an ask. There should be a convention of accords made to shield the innocent from him."

At Blueballs, the guards around him had begun to chuckle, then freeze up. Their faces painted in a scandalous array of expressions mostly focused around mirth. Chains were jingling.

As for the object of derision, from ears to nose, Blueblood was a study of shame and apoplexy, his jaw worked uselessly.

"Orion." Celestia spoke sternly. The colt's answering grin told that he knew he had an audience, and he would play to their whims and not hers.

In truth, she too wished to laugh. Never had she ever heard of anypony being so cavalier in insulting another. If not for the charges against him she would have permitted herself a chuckle. She was grateful that she chose to make this a closed session in any case. With a rueful thought to the headlines that might have been she decided to redirect this trial.

"Now, Orion, please tell me what happened, and be truthful. I will know if you are lying." Her horn softly glowed and she raised an eyebrow.

There would of course be interviews with the students and faculty that had been there that morning, and to see if any security crystals had picked up the fight. But she was suitably confident she could suss out any deception that might crop up, and she felt she had proper grasp on the colt's nature by this point.

"I could make a joke here but I'm sure it would go over everyone's head." He raised his hands, or tried to as the chains limited his movement. "Relax, no need to glare like that."

Celestia smoothed her face. A little humor was fine, but this needed to be serious.

"Okay, so. This morning was going pretty well…"