A Wraith in Winter

Melisandre walked—trotted—smoothly along the cobblestones, flanked by the escort of armored knights. Free from ropes and bindings, the red priestess took long, confident strides on red-furred legs and cloven hooves. The swelling around her eye had gone down enough for her to see again, and so she studied the land where R’hllor had sent her, along with its inhabitants.

It had been several long days of travel by hoof from the small mining village. Melisandre had refused to be carried in a cart, regardless of her bruises and injuries. One of the horned horses was able to mend her worst wounds with a wave of her gray horn; Melisandre swallowed down her awe at the casual display of magic. Only the most ancient tomes that spoke of the height of Old Valyria implied such things were possible.

The prince was also capable of great deeds. A pink shield staved off the worst of the snowstorms during their trek, clearly emanating from his horn as well. They camped at night, and Melisandre was given a tent to herself in the center of the camp, as well as an ointment from one of the normal horses to apply to her swollen eye. The winged horses patrolled in easy patterns, flying on feathers too small to allow flight.

The entire land was saturated with magic; Melisandre thought of the great Wall, and how her powers had only grown in the North. But here, it was like a candle to an inferno. Her own curled, twisted horn blazed with fire when she recalled her prayers during the night, and she would stand unbothered by the cold, or lay on a hay-filled bedroll and watch the shadows on the canvas.

Melisandre did not sleep; sleep was the little death, and the whispering of the Great Other that surely lay in wait. R’hllor sent her here for a purpose, and she would not miss the signs. She had also refused the offered oats on an early morning, and the mare that had offered them nervously eyed her fangs for the rest of the travels.

She saw how the horses watched her warily, even with the prince’s blessing that she was safe. They had no fangs, no cloven hooves, and their manes did not wrap around their heads as hers did. Her eyes were a deeper velvet compared to her fur and mane, and she bore no mark on her flank as the others did. She was different from them, and men were always frightened of the unknown. Horses as well.

The prince seemed completely disarmed by her oddities and polite demeanor, but was far more in control of his knights. He had clearly risen to his title through warfare or marriage, or perhaps both. Shining Armor was a strange name, but appropriate, as was the names of all the horses. They struggled with her own; several called her ‘Miss Melody,’ which she graciously accepted.

By the time they reached a large pink shield and a city underneath it, Melisandre had told them nothing of value, despite their attempts at probing questions. R’hllor had still not given her a sign of his will, and she knew the value of mystery in a foreign land. Men may fear the unknown, but the known can given them confidence. Her muzzle was still swollen on one side, and the spears and crossbows were not for show.

The prince had called it his crystal city, and Melisandre contained her awe at the literalness of the title. The buildings were made of pure, shining crystal, contained underneath a stunning display of magical power that eclipsed Old Valyria. Power thrummed from the centerpiece, a great crystal tower and palace in the center of the city. Not even the Dragonlords were capable of such feats of magic, not even with blood sacrifice of their slaves.

But underneath the shine, it was still a city. Cobblestone covered the streets, vendors hawked their wares, sewage spilled down the gutters, and the odor of tightly packed bodies tickled her more sensitive nose. The most common inhabitants were normal horses, in the sense that they lacked the wings or horn, but their coats glittered in the light, like some of the villagers that attacked her. And they also feared her greatly, watching her horn and fangs with wide, unfocused eyes as she passed them.

No worse than Westeros, Melisandre concluded with a self-contained snort. One of the horned guards shifted an eye to look at her, but quickly averted his gaze when she flashed him a fanged smile.

“I am sorry for your reception,” the prince said for the fourth time since they entered the city.

“I am used to it, your grace,” Melisandre answered.

“The Crystal City still has a long way to go before it is a truly modern place,” Prince Shining offered. He wrinkled his muzzle at a crystal horse emptying a bucket into a groove in the cobblestones. “Modern plumbing, first and foremost.”

“Your grace has one of the cleanest cities I’ve ever seen,” Melisandre said honestly.

“Have you seen many?”

“More than most, your grace.”

The prince puffed his lips at the vague reply, but let it go. Melisandre knew she played a dangerous game. He may not be confident in his royal bearing, but she was more prisoner than a guest. She followed the escort deep into the city; the prince’s subjects greeted him with happy smiles that faded upon seeing her.

Several younger horses—fillies—looked at her in fear and shuffled their hooves, forgetting about the ball they bounced between them. Melisandre paid them no mind until the fillies began to walk away with the same awkward, shuffling gait. The Red Priestess abruptly stopped in the street and stared after them. One light blue filly noticed and shuffled faster.

The knights stopped with her. One casually reached back with a spear to prod her forward, but was deterred by her partner and a look from the prince. “Is something wrong?” Prince Shining asked, fully twisting back to face Melisandre.

Melisandre watched the fillies walk in a manner far too familiar to her. Fetters. They move as if their legs are chained. She had seen that walk in Volantis, in Asshai, and in her childhood. She replayed her trot through the city, realizing that the crystal adults walked with the same shuffle, well-ingrained by years of movement. Most would never notice.

Melony…lot seven…

“Miss Melody?” one of the guards asked. “Please, we must move on. Your presence…frightens the Crystal Ponies.” Melisandre resumed her trot. She did not ask why she frightened them. After several steps, she shook her legs and resumed her long, confident strides. Neither the prince nor his guards reacted to her slip into a similar, stuttering walk, if they even noticed.

Knights guarded every street and every corner. Their presence seemed to scare the smallfolk as much as comfort them, but activity increased around the palace. It was no true defensible keep, with wide balconies and a welcoming front entrance and large crystal doors. Melisandre eyed the horn and wings on her escorts. Mayhaps a moat and drawbridge are not much of a deterrent.

The knights at the doors stomped their forelegs and saluted their prince with raised spears. The heavy crystal doors were pushed open ahead of the marching group. The white prince nodded to his guards as they entered. The interior of the crystal keep matched the exterior; glittering blue crystal walls shone with light and energy, eclipsing any throne room Melisandre had ever seen. Her hooves impacted the floor with a faint chime that made her ears twitch. Upon a high dais, a sharp throne of solid crystal jutted from the floor, occupied by a startling pink horse.

Melisandre first registered that the horse was as naked as herself, then spotted the horn and wings. The pink pony only wore a golden tiara, hardly a crown of any countenance with only a single purple gem. She was involved in a serious discussion with another horned horse, an orange stallion wearing a blue cape. She turned at the sound of the crystal doors squealing shut behind the escort.

Melisandre bowed low, pressing her muzzle to the floor and closing her eyes.

“Shiny!” a voice boomed in the Common Tongue. Melisandre opened an eye to watch incredulously. The pink horse launched herself off the throne with her wings, gliding across the hall and tackling the prince from above. Despite her lean legs, she easily scooped him up and peppered his blushing muzzle with frantic kisses. “I missed you so much! So has Flurry!”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” the prince protested and pulled himself away.

“Too long!” the other nickered. Her violet, rose, and gold mane swirled delicately under the tiara, matched by a bouncy tail.

One of the guards coughed next to the prone Melisandre. She paid it no mind and remained in a submissive bow. Her ears twitched at the movement between the obvious royal couple and their lack of courtly decorum. Gilded hooves clacked along the crystal floor; the guards parted, but remained close to Melisandre and the royals.

“Did you get my message?” the prince whispered.

“I did,” the pink one answered. “Please,” she said down to Melisandre. “Rise.”

Melisandre pushed herself up, but averted her eyes from the royals. She kept her horn titled away from them, uncertain if that would be taken as an offensive gesture. The crowned horse openly flinched at the bruising around Melisandre’s right eye and muzzle, scuffing a hoof on the floor with folded ears. Her purple eyes swam with tears and open pity.

Neither of them were raised royalty, Melisandre assumed. Coupled with the demeanor of the horses outside, she could draw several conclusions about this new kingdom. A slave rebellion, or a usurpation. There had been rumors of the last Targaryen lighting Slaver’s Bay aflame, but the Red Priestess was far from those shores.

“I am so sorry,” the pink horse apologized. She moved towards Melisandre, but the prince held out a hoof and shook his head. He mouthed something to her, and her stance shifted. “I am sure you have heard many apologies already.”

“I have endured worse, your grace,” Melisandre said lightly.

The pink horse flared out her wings and held her head and horn straight. “I am Mi Amore Cadenza, Princess of the Crystal Empire,” she recited. “May I know your name, Kirin?”

“Should it please your grace, I am Melisandre of Asshai,” she bowed again. “Red Priestess of the Lord of Light.”

The princess was clearly off-put by the titles. She blinked, visibly trying to remember if she had heard any of them before. She clearly failed and offered a brittle smile. “Please, Princess Cadenza is fine.”

“If it pleases your grace,” Melisandre stood. “I thank you for your hospitality, Princess.”

The princess’ eyes flicked to the faded bruises along Melisandre’s muzzle.

“She’s like that,” her prince whispered. Melisandre pretended not to hear.

“You are very far from Kirin lands,” the princess stated.

“She doesn’t know about the Crystal Empire,” Prince Shining said to the princess.

“Well, that’s hardly unusual,” Princess Cadenza shrugged her wings. “It’s been gone a long time.” She turned her head back to the throne. “Sunburst? Please let Twilight and her friends know Shiny’s back.” The orange stallion walked down from the dais, looking at the ‘Kirin’ through strange orbed pieces of glass before leaving through a side door.

“Are you hungry?” Princess Cadenza asked Melisandre. She shared a quick glance at the white stallion beside her. “I was told you haven’t eaten.”

“I am fine, your grace,” Melisandre replied automatically. The Princess’ horn glowed with pale blue light and Melisandre felt an energy flow down her fur. Whatever the magic was meant to do, it clearly did nothing. Princess Cadenza shared another look with the prince and shrugged her wings.

“We have more than hay and oats,” Prince Shining offered. “I am sorry about our trail rations being…lacking,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Do you eat meat?”

“If I must,” Melisandre answered noncommittally, nudging a fang with her tongue. "I shall eat whatever it pleases your grace to serve me."

The side door that the orange stallion left from opened again. Six horses and a small lizard spilled forth into the throne room, led by a purple horse with horn and wings. All six wore jewelry as lackluster as the princess’ own crown.

The purple one shouted some stream of syllables and pulled the prince into a crushing hug with a glowing purple horn. The others were more reserved, except for the pink one that brushed past the guards with a springy hop and shoved her muzzle against Melisandre’s.

“Hello!” the pink horse chirped with disturbing blue eyes. “You’re very red. I’m very pink. I’m Pinkie Pie!”

Melisandre was reminded of the jester Patchface and took an involuntary step back.

“Woah,” a normal orange pony yanked the pink one back. “Easy, Pinkie. She’s never seen ponies before, remember?”

“Well,” the pink one snorted, “now she has! This is Applejack. We’re earth ponies!” She jabbed a hoof at a blue winged pony with a rainbow mane who squinted suspiciously at Melisandre. A yellow winged pony cringed and hid her muzzle behind a flowing pink mane. “That’s Rainbow and Fluttershy! They’re pegasi!”

The pink one dropped her voice to a whisper. “They can fly,” she hissed conspiratorially. The hoof wiggled towards a white horned horse with a coiffed purple mane. She was critically inspecting Melisandre’s ruby broach from afar. “That’s Rarity! She’s a unicorn!”

The hoof vibrated towards the prince and the purple pony, deep in some conversation with Princess Cadenza. “And that’s Twilight. She was a unicorn, but now she’s an alicorn, all fancy and schmancy.” She turned back to Melisandre with a wide smile.

There is madness in her eyes. “Lord of Light, give me strength,” Melisandre whispered in High Valyrian.

“I’ve never heard that language before!” the pink one laughed.

“Girls!” the so-called Twilight whinnied in the Common Tongue. “Enough!” Her horn glowed and the pink one was dragged away, encased in a purple aura. “I’m so sorry,” Twilight apologized to Melisandre.

Melisandre looked down and twisted a cloven hoof to inspect it. This is an unfair test. “No apologies are needed…your grace?” she guessed. Her ruby eyes flicked to the others, who all wore necklaces in contrast to Twilight’s golden tiara.

“Ah,” Twilight laughed awkwardly. “I am Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Equestria.”

Melisandre bowed.

“Please,” Princesss Twilight waved her wings in clear discomfort. “Stand. That’s not necessary.”

“This is my sister I mentioned,” Prince Shining said. “She’s had her share of magical accidents.”

Prince Twilight slapped the back of his head with a wing, clanging against his helmet.

None of them were born royalty. The horses in the village had been deathly afraid of Sombra and the demeanor of the smallfolk suggested that their freedom was a new thing. Melisandre pursed her lips and held her tongue. She noticed the purple and green lizard had sat down on the lowest step to the throne, either exceptionally well-trained or somehow intelligent. If horses are to speak, why not lizards?

Princess Cadenza and Prince Shining ascended the steps to the throne. The princess sat down while the prince stood, which suggested a clear power dynamic was tied to the horn and wings. The other six horses stood casually together in a group below the throne. A dozen guards lined the walls on either side; spears leaned upright against their sides.

Melisandre thought of young Robert Baratheon and his easy smile, hiding the crushing warhammer and strength. Despite their attitudes, this was not a casual affair. She titled her head, still avoiding direct eye contact with the royals. I do not fear death. R’hllor watches over me.

“Do you mind answering some questions?” Princess Cadenza asked lightly. “I know it’s been a long journey. If you’d like to rest first, please let us know.”

Melisandre dipped her head, but did not reply verbally.

The throned princess frowned slightly. “How well do you know Equestrian?”

“I am fluent in the Common Tongue,” Melisandre answered. “I learned it to travel.”

“But that’s not your native language,” Princess Twilight observed. “We haven’t had contact with the Kirin in three centuries, and even then, it was sparse.”

“It is not.” There was a long silence as the royals waited for an elaboration that did not come.

“What happened wasn’t acceptable,” Prince Shining started with a long, apologetic sigh, “but we would like to understand what occurred before you arrived. You said something about a ritual?”

“It did not work as I intended it to,” Melisandre answered.

“Right,” the blue winged one snorted from the base of the throne. “What were you tryin’ to do, huh?”

“Rainbow,” the yellow one beside her chastised softly. “Please, be nice.”

“I was trying to save a fool,” Melisandre said. “I could not allow him to die.”

Several of the guards shifted slightly. The prince’s eyes narrowed marginally, but he affected a casual demeanor. “Would you please explain?”

“The Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch,” Melisandre provided. “R’hllor had shown me he was essential to victory over the Long Night.”

"The Long Night?" the yellow winged one whispered uncertainly.

“Uh, who’s Rally?” the pink one asked with a frown. "They sound fun!"

“R’hllor,” Melisandre enunciated sharply. “Do not test me,” she added with a low growl in her native Asshai. A flame burst from her horn.

The pink one’s bouncy mane deflated with a squeak.

“Are you confessing to Necromancy?” Princess Twilight asked in a low voice.

The flame around her horn died. “I do not know that word.”

“Raising the dead,” Princess Twilight explained further with a more severe frown. “Dark Magic like that is illegal in Equestria.”

“I was not in your lands,” Melisandre answered, “nor was he truly dead. Magic is always feared by those who cannot understand it.”

“Darling,” the white horse tittered like a courtier. “Don’t you know who you’re speaking to?”

“No.”

The white mare blinked. “We’re the Elements of Harmony.”

“The Kirin may live in an area claimed by Equestria,” Princess Cadenza stated in a conciliatory tone from the throne, “but I doubt they are aware of our laws.”

“She didn’t even know what we called ourselves,” Prince Shining added.

Princess Twilight looked momentarily regretful. “True. What went wrong? The spell-matrix? Did you interrupt a leyline or use focusing crystals?”

Melisandre blinked. “I called upon R’hllor and awoke in the snow.” She suppressed a mild chuckle at the thought of trying to save Snow and ending up in snow. I never considered if the Lord of Light had a sense of humor, but he surely does after this.

“I mean, did you use something that would lead to long-distance teleportation?”

“Candles,” Melisandre deadpanned, unfamiliar with another word. Best not to mention the direwolf. “The Lord of Light provided the rest.”

“Oh, this first contact is going just great,” the lavender princess nickered to herself. “I have one page on the Kirin,” she ranted. “We don’t even know who’s the current princess or queen.” A map levitated from a saddlebag on her side. “Do you know where you are? Where you live?”

The parchment was the highest quality she had ever seen. Melisandre glanced at the unfamiliar landmasses. “I recognize nothing on this map.”

“Great,” Princess Twilight huffed. The map folded itself back up and drifted back into the saddlebag. “Who is the princess? Or the queen?” It seemed to be a genuine question and not a trap.

“I do not serve them, whoever they may be,” Melisandre provided. That was one issue she would not be vague about, no matter the apparent danger.

“You mean that Rallor?” the blue one tried. “What kinda name is that?”

“No,” Melisandre answered. “I serve only one king. The true and rightful king.”

The entire throne room tensed; the guards lowered their spears. The self-named Princess Cadenza’s kind eyes collapsed into a fearful glare. “Do you?” she asked in a harder tone. The prince beside the throne lowered his white horn and it began to glow with rosy light.

“I do,” Melisandre confirmed. She stood straight on her four, unfamiliar legs and looked up at the crystal throne. She met the Princess’ purple eyes fearlessly. “The Prince that was Promised, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm…”

The six horses at the base of the throne pawed at the floor, even the timid yellow one. Their necklaces shined with light, glowing like the ruby around her neck. Even without armor, the six looked prepared for war. The small purple and green lizard stepped up beside the other princess with a fanged snarl.

If this is to be a test of faith, I shall not fail. “Stannis Baratheon,” Melisandre declared proudly with her muzzle raised high. “Azor Ahai come again, the warrior of fire, prophesized to banish the Long Night. The crowned stag within a flaming heart.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“Uh, a deer?” the prince asked in a confused whicker. His horn dimmed. The armored horses along the sides held their spears uneasily, sharing awkward looks. The six ponies at the base of the throne glanced at each other, and the glow faded from their jewelry.

Melisandre took only a moment to consider her next course of action. “Yes,” she said confidently. It was true enough, in a sense.

Princess Cadenza licked her lips. “Have you heard of King Sombra?”

“Only that I am apparently his whore,” Melisandre responded dryly.

The winged purple horse clamped her hooves over the tiny lizard’s ears. “Watch your language!”

“She’s only repeating what they shouted at her, Twily,” the prince sighed. The purple princess’ ears pinned back in guilt as she shifted her glare from Melisandre to the throne behind her. “Copperhill is mostly earth ponies and crystal ponies,” he continued. “After the disappearances and what happened in the city…things are tense.”

“When did your spell fail?” Princess Twilight asked, looking back at Melisandre with regretful eyes.

Melisandre brushed her mane back with a hoof, fully exposing the swelling along her muzzle. The bruising had somewhat faded along the darker scales on her back, but some were dented from the shovel strikes. The yellow one gasped and struggled not to cry. All the others winced. Princess Twilight turned the lizard around and had him face the throne. “I do not know how you count the time,” Melisandre answered. “No more than a moon ago, mayhaps. I found the village after several days.”

“Just after the changeling attack,” Princess Cadenza huffed. She rubbed a hoof against her muzzle, squeezing her eyes shut. “Sweet Celestia…”

“So what’s this ‘Lord of Light’ pony? You talkin’ about Princess Celestia?” the orange pony asked. Out of all of them, she was the only one able to look at the bruising without any hesitation.

Melisandre took a moment to parse her heavy, unfamiliar accent. “I do not know of a Celestia. R’hllor is the Lord of Light. The guardian of life and light, and the only hope against the Long Night.”

As Melisandre spoke, her ruby pulsed in time with a faint flame from the tip of her horn. “R'hllor speaks to his chosen ones through blessed fire, in a language of ash and cinder and twisting flame that only a god could truly grasp. He offers glimpses of the future in the flames.”

“Precognition,” Princess Twilight snorted uncertainly. “That’s...that's not possible.”

“I have heard that before,” Melisandre laughed in a warm soprano. “The flames are never wrong, though mortals may err, mistaking this must come for this may come.”

“And what do you have against the night?” the orange one questioned again.

Melisandre smirked. “The night is dark and full of terrors. We burn fires to keep the darkness at bay.”

“That’s cruel to Luna!” the princess Twilight insisted with a hard stomp. “She works hard on the night!”

Melisandre’s smirk collapsed into a frown. “I know not of who you speak.”

“Do you know Nightmare Moon?” the blue one snorted. “You know, the mare that tried to plunge the world into eternal ni—” the normal, orange horse shoved her hoof into the mouth of the winged one beside her.

Above them, Princess Cadenza sagged against her crystal throne. “What is the Long Night?” she asked in a resigned voice as her eyes stared somewhere far beyond the throne room.

“The war,” Melisandre smiled through her short fangs. “The war between darkness and light.” The throne room was silent, so she continued. “Soon comes the cold, and the night that never ends. I speak of the war for the dawn, and it will require true courage to defeat the Other and banish the darkness. Ours is a war for life itself, and should we fail the world dies with us.”

The three royals slowly brought a forehoof to their muzzles in unison.

Melisandre watched with open amusement. Nonbelievers. It was hardly a surprise to her, but she had never delivered sermons to horses before. Well, the horses weren’t the intended audience. Perhaps that is why I have been sent here. She longed to return and aid Azor Ahai against his enemies, but R’hllor had sent her here for a purpose, and she needed to discover it.

“Do the Deer speak with the Kirin?” Princess Cadenza whispered to her prince. He shook his head slowly and rubbed a blue eye with an elbow. The stallion looked very tired.

“This, uh, King Stannis,” Prince Shining started. “Does he…believe in this?”

“Not as much as I wish,” Melisandre answered honestly, “but many of his knights believe, as does his wife. Belief does not change the truth. The Long Night will come again.”

"Yeah, you missed it," the rainbow-maned one chuckled. She scuffed a hoof on her necklace.

Melisandre shifted her severe ruby stare to her. Her own broach glowed against her throat. "What do you mean?"

Rainbow swallowed and fluttered her wings.

“We, uh,” Princess Cadance stumbled around her words. “We can’t let you leave. You’re not a prisoner, but, uh—”

“I do not fear death,” Melisandre replied evenly. “I am a Red Priestess for R’hllor. I swore long ago to spread his light.”

“No!” Prince Shining shouted in ragged voice. “No, we aren’t…” he swallowed. “Look, there’s a lot wrong about, uh, about this. It’s been a long time, a thousand years. Luna’s not—"

“She’s not evil,” Princess Twilight finished for her brother with open concern.

“Not anymore,” the rainbow-maned one added with a snort. The orange one kicked her with a hind leg.

The princess on the throne stared at the ceiling with bloodshot purple eyes. Her wings twitched against the sharp edges of the throne. “For your own safety,” she finally managed in an uncertain voice, “we need to keep you here in the Crystal Palace. We…we need to contact the Kirin and explain this. Somehow...”

“As you wish, your grace,” Melisandre bowed again.

The pony flinched on the throne. “Just…uh, the guest chambers, please.” Two guards approached, folding their spears against their sides with practiced ease. Melisandre watched the hafts unlock with a raised brow. Doesn’t seem very practical. The two guards were both winged, and they seemed very nervous.

“This way, Miss Melody, uh, Melisandy?” the one on the left offered. He pointed a wing to a side door.

“By your leave, sweet sers,” Melisandre said graciously. She was taller than both of them, not including her burgundy horn. She tried another smile, this time keeping her fangs hidden behind her upper lip. The stallion openly ogled her before turning around, and Melisandre revised her opinion on her changed beauty.

She revised it yet again when the stallion’s crystal plate did not cover his half-exposed sheath. Atrocious design. That would be the first place to stab. The horses appeared to prefer to be naked, like the stories about Summer Islanders, and took pride in the myriad marks on their flanks. Their armor clanked as they briskly trotted out of the throne room. Melisandre followed languidly; one ear rotated back to the gathered ponies at the base of the throne.

“They built an entire religion around Nightmare Moon,” Princess Twilight muttered in despair to the lizard by her side. She was out the door before she heard if the lizard could reply. They led her up a flight of stairs, not down towards the presumed dungeons.

Melisandre swished her tongue around her short fangs. She was far from Westeros and Asshai, west and east, but many cultures had stories about an everlasting night. Scholarly fools declared that it was some sort of ‘monomyth’ that all religions sprang from, denying the obvious truth. The North was foolish to worship trees, but even they accepted the cold winds.

A Nightmare, Melisandre rolled her eyes at the pun as her ruby pulsed. Something to look into.