Thorny bushes brushed themselves to the side. Sharp rocks shimmied out of the way. A path appeared. Two young deer walked softly through the gap.
The path led them to the remains of a ruined castle run through by battle scars. The flying buttresses had all been punched out, though the main walls themselves still stood tall, impossible unsupported monoliths of stone and steel. Scrap and scrub brush and rusted swords littered the ground.
Hundreds of uniform holes dotted the walls, each one about the diameter of a hoof. The remnants of unicorn battle spells. From the outside, the holes looked neat, almost surgical. Only on the inside of the walls, the exit wounds, could the deer see the true extent of the damage.
There’s gonna be skeletons in there. The first deer’s name was Applejack. Her freckly ears flicked at the cool air. I don’t feel like lookin’ at skeletons today.
If we find any bones, we can carbon date them, the other doe, Twilight Sparkle, thought.
Why on earth would we wanna do that?
It’s data.
It’s defiling the dead.
Well, why else would we need to be here? Twilight scampered up a pile of rubble and peered inside the castle. If the path is clear, walk it.
Applejack frowned. Twilight only quoted from the teachings of the spirits when it served her unnatural ends. She’d done the same thing last week, when she tried convincing the tribe elders to let her perform an autopsy on a buck who’d died suddenly after eating some mysterious berries. Any doe eyed dolt could see it was the berries that did the buck in. Why Twilight had to go digging deeper, literally, was beyond her.
A great groaning sound, deeper and darker than thunder, rumbled through the earth. The deer staggered. A horrible grinding metal sound pierced the air. Flocks of birds took flight. Trees shivered.
What was that? Twilight thought, a clear note of excitement in her inner voice.
I don’t wanna find out. We shouldn’t be here. Twi—hey!
Twilight dove into the castle. A moment later, she peeked her head over the pile of rubble and thought, C’mon Applejack!
The earth rumbled again. Applejack took one last glimpse around the ruins. No critters. No birds. No anything. This place was a bad news sandwich, and they were about to be the venison in between the bread.
Against her better judgement, she dove in after Twilight. For all her friend’s distrust of deer spirituality, she was right about one thing: the path was clear. The forest wanted them here. They had no choice but to go deeper.
Some spell of unimaginable power had blasted the roof clean off the castle. The walls stretched up and up and up into nothing, like the pony builders in all their infinite ego had tried to make the sky itself their ceiling. Now their pride was in ruins. Let the earth take it, Applejack thought. Recycle the rocks. Break everything down to its base parts. Let it all go back to what it was before.
Look! Twilight thought. She raced ahead to a pile of rubble and prodded it excitedly. Upon closer inspection, Applejack saw it was actually a crumpled suit of armor. She couldn’t tell if its original occupant was still inside.
The hinges are all fused, Twilight thought. Whoever was inside couldn’t get out.
Applejack cringed. Don’t touch it.
Twilight ran off again. Applejack followed. Ambient daylight spilled in through the ceiling, lighting a path forward. Ivy and branches flowed in like a tide, sealing certain passageways and leaving others open. The forest was leading them.
Applejack paused at the intersection of several arterial hallways. Do you hear something?
No. Twilight paused, perking her ears up. Do you?
The two stood still for a few minutes, soaking in the sound.
Thought I heard voices, Applejack thought.
Maybe it was an echo.
Maybe. Applejack sniffed the air. Decay and rebirth. Loam. Dust. Twilight. Something else was there too. She couldn’t quite put her hoof on it. Do you smell that?
The rumble returned. Twilight’s ears flattened. Someone’s here.
Hoofsteps came from an adjacent corridor. Echoes of deep voices bounced off the walls. Ponies. How had they gotten so close without being noticed? Twilight and Applejack bounded into the shadows, hugging the walls, willing themselves to blend into the pockmarked stone.
The voices closed. Diverged. Faded away.
Let’s get outta here, Applejack thought. We’re not supposed to be here.
Not yet. Twilight was already moving down another unblocked hallway. There’s something here for us.
Yeah, pony knights. Did you miss them? They’re gonna skin us for capes.
Twilight disappeared down one of the hallways. Applejack let out a grunt of annoyance and followed after her.
The hallways sloped down, tunneling into the earth. The forest was on the offensive down here. Tree roots burst from the walls, caving in entire rooms. Water pooled in places and flowed in others. They passed several more sets of armor, also fused shut. Why would the ponies do that to each other? Applejack tried and failed to find a reasonable answer. The best she could come up with was simply because they were ponies. Ponies did that. Sometimes they were kind. Sometimes they weren’t.
The path grew narrow. They wriggled through a partially caved in section of wall and found themselves in a colossal ruin of twisted metal and stone. The throne room above this room had completely collapsed, pancaking the floor below it. A blown-in section of the original gilded door still hung from its hinges ten yards above the ground. The bottom chunk of a golden throne stood eerily atop the wreckage. The top had been carved clean off by a bolt of magic.
Twilight scampered up to it and sat down.
Are you kidding me? Twi—
It’s fine, Twilight giggled.
No it’s not. Let’s just find whatever it is we’re supposed to find and get outta here.
How are we supposed to find it if we don’t look around? She patted the throne. Wanna sit? It’s big enough for two.
As a matter of fact, no I don’t. Applejack skirted the perimeter of the room, searching for whatever it was the forest wanted them to find. If the forest spirits wanted rubble, there was plenty to take from outside. No, they’d been led down here for something else. Twilight was right, as much as it pained Applejack to admit it. They needed to be down here.
Twilight straightened up. Applejack froze. Her ears flicked. Did she hear something? More ponies above them?
Look there, Twilight thought, and made a beeline to the base of the rubble pile. She kicked aside boulders as big as her head and dug something metal from beneath a ruined cloth banner.
Applejack ran to her side. What? What is it?
Twilight held it up so it caught the light. It was a silver crown inlaid with deep blue gems. An embossed image of the new moon glittered on the front. A bolt of magic had melted one side of it, tearing it open into a lopsided letter C.
Applejack wondered if there had been a pony wearing the crown when it got hit. Y’think that’s what we’re looking for?
Twilight tried to put it on. The crown was so big her head went through without touching the sides. She rested it on her neck like a yoke.
Don’t do that, Applejack snapped.
It’s okay. It’s inert.
I don’t care whether it’s inert or outert. If that’s what we needed to get, then we got it, so let’s git.
Just then, a shower of loose stones cascaded down from above. Twilight and Applejack looked up to find three ponies in clunky golden armor peering down at them from the throne room’s doorway.
“Thieves!” the knights cried. One hurled a rock at them. Another drew his sword. The third reached for a bow on his back.
The two deer turned tail and raced back into the underground passageway. They retraced their steps back to the surface, skirting the main passages to avoid the knights.
When they reached the exterior wall, Twilight gave a silent sigh of relief. I think we lost them, she thought.She ducked through a gap in one of the exterior walls and came face to face with another dozen knights lounging at the forest’s edge.
Twilight ducked back behind the wall. I don’t think they saw me.
A searing hot bolt of magic blew a hole in the wall between Twilight and Applejack.
The two stumbled back into the castle amidst a shower of rock and sparks. Facades weakened by the long-ago battle finally succumbed to gravity. Choking dust filled the air. Amidst the chaos, a new path forward emerged. Twilight and Applejack dashed through. A wall collapsed behind them, sealing their escape route. They emerged caked in grey dust and coughing up a storm, but for the moment, they were safe.
An empty group of tents belonging to the pony knights stood in a nearby clearing. Behind it were dozens of plus-sized palettes of supplies and big black drums stacked in pyramid shapes.
There’s a whole camp of ‘em, Applejack thought. Let’s get outta here.
Twilight didn’t seem to hear her. She walked right into the pony camp and started digging through the crates.
Twi! Stop that right now.
Twilight pried open the top of the nearest crate and peered inside. Her eyes went wide. Her breath hitched in her throat.
Inside the crate were a dozen chainsaws stacked in a neat row.
C’mon Twi, quit messin’ around. Those numbskulls are gonna be here any second.
AJ, look at this. Twilight raced to another crate and nudged it open. Inside were four gas-propellant defoliators. Further back, behind a canvas sheet dyed camouflage greens and browns, they found a monstrous industrial beast. Two clawed arms were curled atop its slumbering frame. Mobility tracks sank into the soft earth. The empty cockpit reminded Applejack of the empty eye sockets of dead timberwolves. Behind it was a swath of crushed foliage and clear-cut trees leading all the way to the edge of the forest a full mile away.
The engine was off. The beast was asleep. But even sleeping dragons could kill inadvertently.
C’mon, Twi. Applejack put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. Twilight shuddered at the touch. Her wide eyes locked straight ahead. Her whole body went rigid. She was trapped in the death lock, the state of terror that paralyzed deer in life and death situations.
A castle wall collapsed behind them. A pair of knights emerged from the rubble. They drew their swords and charged towards the clearing.
Applejack’s heart shot into her throat. Treaties be damned, these knights were out for blood. C’mon Twi, snap out of it. She threw her entire weight against her friend, but the death lock had her. She would remain locked in place until something could shock her out of it.
As the knights drew closer, Applejack summoned magic from the earth and traced the outline of a rune into the dirt. A thorny vine sprung up beneath the knights, tripping them up.
Applejack grabbed the pony crown and hung it over her neck. The weight of it astonished her. She completed a second rune and draped herself over Twilight’s frozen frame. The rune glowed red, then white. The grass around them curled and turned black. A blinding light enveloped them.
The next thing Applejack knew, she was in a completely different part of the forest, surrounded by the other deer of her tribe.Friends and family brayed in surprise and leapt away.
The teleportation had snapped Twilight out of the death lock. She reached out with an unsteady hoof to touch the crown around Applejack’s neck. Then she collapsed.
Strong tea and smoke tickled Applejack’s nose. She sat around the fire, flanked by elders Granny Smith and Twilight Velvet. Twilight Sparkle sat across from her, shivering under woven grass blankets. It would be at least another few hours before her body came down from the shock of being forcefully teleported.
Granny Smith took a long, loud sip of her tea. I say we chuck it in the fire right now an’ get it over with.
Granny, Applejack scolded, we almost got killed getting that thing. And besides, the forest led us to it. We were supposed to get it.
Phooey. Why would the forest send you right into a whole hive’a pony knights? It would never send a deer fallin’ into a ravine. It wouldn’t lead a starving babe to poison berries. She smacked her lips. Nope, I think you just read the whole situation wrong.
Not a chance. The forest led us right to it. It even slowed down the knights when we were trying to get away.
That castle’s been there a hundred years. No deer in my memory have ever been led there, even before the ponies abandoned it.
You’re only fifty four, granny.
Never tell a doe her age, sweetie.
I think, Twilight Velvet broke in, that there was an ulterior motive for the forest leading you to that castle. You mentioned you found defoliating equipment.
The air grew colder. The other deer leaned closer to the fire. Twilight Sparkle’s teeth chattered.
That’s right, Applejack thought. Whole crates of chainsaws and chemical defoliants and this awful machine—
Granny cut her off. It smells like you two were pokin’ around where you didn’t belong.
Granny, please, just listen—
Twilight Sparkle stood up. Twilight Velvet rushed to her side, coaxing her back into a seated position.
I want to say something, Twilight said, her voice weak.
Soon, dear, Twilight Velvet said. Right now, you need to rest.
No. We have to study that crown.
Applejack said, That crown ain’t ours. It’s not our magic. Ponies wear crowns. Deer don’t. For all we know, that crown’s the reason why the castle got ruined.
What if it’s not? What if it has something we need?
Applejack frowned. I don’t know.
Granny Smith chimed in, I think the forest led you to that castle to warn us about them ponies cutting down trees.
If that were the case, the forest wouldn’t have led us inside the castle.
Sounds like it was Twilight who led you into the castle. The crown’s just a big ol’ red herring. I say we send the two girls out, once Twilight’s feelin’ better of course, and return the crown to the ponies.
Twilight Sparkle stood suddenly. No! Her body wobbled to one side. She fell back down like a newborn fawn. Twilight Velvet tried to calm her down, but the young doe was inconsolable. We almost got killed for that crown. We can’t just give it back.
That’s my vote, and that’s that. Granny Smith sipped her tea and crossed her hooves. Velvet? What’s your vote?
Twilight Velvet ran a hoof through her daughter’s fur. I’m sorry, dear.
What? No, mom, this is important. Mom!
One by one, the other elders drowned out Twilight Sparkle’s protests. Applejack couldn’t dare meet her friend’s eyes. She would have voted the same way the other elders did, were she in their seats, but it still hurt to hear her friend shut down. She hadn’t wanted any of this. She was obligated to follow the forest wherever it took her. But right now, she wished it had led her to something less dangerous, like a wolfbear den, or a rabid timberwolf.
The votes were counted. It’s decided, Granny Smith announced. As soon as Twilight Sparkle is feeling well enough to travel, she and Applejack will take the crown back to the pony lands in the south and return it.
We don’t even know who it belongs to, Twilight protested. If it’s not being worn, it’s probably not being missed.
Maybe so. But the crown ain’t ours. We’re honor-bound to return it to its rightful owners.
Twilight Sparkle gloured into the flickering flames. Underneath all those blankets, she looked no larger than a fresh-faced fawn. Applejack felt no larger, flanked as she was by her grandmother and the other elders.
We go where the path leads, Twilight finally said in a defeated voice.
Elder Granny Smith stood up to a cacophony of pops and cracks from her ancient bones. Darn tootin’.
A dozen miles into their journey, Applejack found some acorns.
She sniffed the pile and got a hint of squirrel. No predators. No ponies. She circled around the area just to be safe, but sensing nothing out of the ordinary, she returned to the pile to graze. Suppertime was whenever the forest decided.
Twi. C’mere.
Twilight stood a few yards away. It had been a full week since the council made their decision, yet she still refused to communicate with Applejack. Her silence was equal parts infuriating and genuinely concerning. The three days she’d been out with magical whiplash left her looking haunted. Dark circles lined her eyes.
You gotta eat something eventually.
Twilight stared south in defiance. The clasp of her whitherbag caught the light coming through the canopy. The heft of the crown made the bag droop.
Applejack lingered by the acorns for a few more minutes, hoping the prospect of food would break Twilight’s resolve. In the end, it was Applejack who broke first. They had another ten miles to walk before they left the protection of the forest.
So, Applejack said, how are we gonna handle this whole returning business? Twilight, of course, said nothing, but that wasn’t really the reason Applejack was asking. We can’t just give it to the first pony we see. They’re just as likely to steal it as return it. What if we gave it to the pony queen?
Moments dragged into minutes. Twilight stayed silent.
We’d have to find a way into their city. Probably gonna be a lotta knights runnin’ around.
Still nothing. Frustration creased a fine line on Applejack’s forehead.
Maybe you could ask ‘em what they’re planning on doing with all that defoliating gear.
I can’t believe you didn’t take my side.
Applejack nearly leapt out of her skin. She hadn’t been expecting Twilight to actually respond. When the shock wore off, she asked, Welcome back. Wanna circle back and get those acorns?
How can you be worried about food?
How can you not be?
We almost got killed over this crown, and now we’re just gonna give it away. Doesn’t that make you furious?
You haven’t eaten since the day before last.
Yes, sorry for having more pressing matters on my mind. Like how you let the elders vote us down.
I didn’t let ‘em, I had no say in the matter. I would’a voted with them if I had the chance, though. Now are you sure you don’t want an acorn?
As they sparred, the forest began to change around them. The canopy of trees remained, but the underbrush beneath began to thin out, until they were walking on a flat bed of moss and leaves. The forest ended all at once, depositing them into a freshly-plowed field. They were three rows deep into soybean seeds before they even realized they’d finished the first leg of their journey.
Applejack squinted off into the distance. Stone cottages dotted a gentle sloping hill. Further off, in a haze of light and smoke, a city shimmered on the horizon like a mirage.
The wind shifted. Traces of metal polish and peppercorns tickled her nose. She swung around and saw a pony knight some thirty paces off. His armor was not the usual day-glow gold but a deep indigo lined with impractical silver trim and stamped with the night guard’s eclipsed sun sigil. Bat wings and slit eyes marked him as a thestral. He sat on a stump, front hooves folded neatly, imitating the tree that was no longer there.
“Hello,” he called out. His voice carried just a hint of a posh far-off accent. His eyes were yellow and reminded Applejack of moonlit nights—Easy to get lost in, and full of danger. “Nice weather, isn’t it?”
You go right, I go left, Applejack thought. He can’t chase us both.
If he wanted to attack us, he would have taken us by surprise.
No way. He’s a knight. Knights attack.
None of the other knights were thestrals.
What difference does it make? A knight’s a knight. They all mount skulls in their dens.
“Ah. Hello?” The knight, unaware of the deers’ telepathic conversation, shifted uncomfortably on the tree stump. “I said, nice weather. Nice.” He pulled the sides of his mouth up in a joker’s smile. “Weather.” He pointed up at the sky.
Thank goodness, Applejack thought, he’s an idiot.
“I believe you two are lost. The forest is over there.”
Applejack shook her head. She pointed to the city in the distance.
“Ah. I see! Easy mistake to make. That’s not a forest. That’s a city.” He nodded to the ragged scar of the forest’s edge. “That’s the forest.”
Told you, Applejack thought to Twilight. He’s a knight alright.
If he’s a knight, he might be able to help us get the crown back.
He’d sooner stab us in the back and make us into coats.
“Hello? Ladies? Maybe you didn’t hear me. The forest is that way. I suggest you stay in it.”
The knight took off his helmet. A mop of manicured indigo mane fell over his shoulders. The way his fur shone, it was clear he maintained his looks as much as he maintained his armor. One more layer of protection. The helmet was off, but the shield stayed up.
How are we supposed to tell him what we need? Twilight thought impatiently. He doesn’t seem like the sharpest stone in the creek.
At least he hasn’t tried to kill us yet.
Yeah. Yet.
The knight stood up from the stump. He took a step towards them, swagger in his hips. “Unless, that is, you’d like to keep me company.”
I’d rather he be tryin’ to kill us, Applejack thought.
Twilight’s face took on the look of a mother who just found their fawn doing something nasty alone in the forest. He can’t be serious.
“I’m not gonna lie, you deer mostly look alike. But you have this air about you. Tell me, what makes a mare beautiful?” He paused. “Oh, right. You don’t talk. I’ll tell you what I think. A lotta ponies say it’s symmetry or style or hip-swing that makes a mare beautiful. Those ponies are lesser for that belief.” He was getting a little too close for comfort now, but Twilight and Applejack didn’t make a break for it. Not yet. “I think the thing that makes a mare beautiful is the eyes. And girls, you have eyes that go on for miles.”
Twilight reached into her whitherbag and produced the silver crown.
The effect on the batpony knight was instantaneous and visceral. His wings flared out to their full length. His armor chattered like teeth in a frozen pony’s mouth. He bared his fangs in an undisguised snarl.
“Where did you get that?” he hissed.
Twilight held it out. The knight leapt back. His body language was unmitigated terror, but the deer both noticed a note of awe in his eyes. Interesting, Twilight thought. What happens if I—
She gingerly placed the crown in the grass. The knight ate mud diving for it, but stopped just short of actually touching it.
“Pick it up,” he pleaded, “pick it up right now, it’s not supposed to touch the ground, please—”
Twilight snatched the crown up and backed away. The knight rose slowly to his hooves, nostrils flaring. The look of confusion on the deers’ faces crossed the language barrier between them. “That’s a very sacred object. It can never touch the ground.”
Didn’t you find it buried in the dirt? Applejack thought.
Actually, it was buried in a pile of rubble.
Ah. Twilight tried holding it out again, just to test his reaction.
“No, I can’t take it. I’m not allowed to touch it. I swore an oath.” Though he couldn’t touch it, he had no qualms about breathing on it. He leaned in close and examined every dirt-caked facet, every twisted silver lining, pausing to cry out in genuine agony when he reached the melted side of the crown. The knight fell to his knees. A series of choked sobs escaped his lips.
He’s gonna cry, Twilight thought.
Yeah, I know.
Is he gonna, like, hug me or something?
I dunno.
That’s what ponies do when they’re sad, right? They hug each other.
Nah, I think they make out.
Oh god.
No, wait, that’s when they’re mating.
Well, which one was it? Is he drooling?
No, that’s snot.
Oh god.
The knight suddenly shot to his hooves, startling the two mares. “We have to—” A line of snot touched his lips. His tongue flicked out on instinct. He gagged and spat in the grass. “We have to take this to the queen.” More tears spilled from his eyes. “We have to take it right now.”
Yes! Applejack’s face lit up, which to a pony might have looked like something akin to a confused frown. Finally he’s speakin’ some sense.
His hooves reached for the crown again. He remained frozen there, a pony trapped in the throes of a traumatic brain injury.
Jeez. Twi, put it away. You’re hurtin’ him.
Twilight stuffed the crown back in her whitherbag. Slowly, the knight uncurled.
“Where did you find that?” he asked. Twilight nodded towards the forest. “The castle?” Twilight nodded. A cold look passed across his face. “Of course. Should’a bulldozed that thing forty years ago.” With a grunt of effort, he pulled himself up to his hooves. “I’ll take you to the queen. On my knightly honor, no harm shall come to you. You may call me Sir Diamond Heart, if you’d like.”
Twilight and Applejack just stared back in response.
“Right, right. Just. Follow me.”
The sign outside Unity Town still displayed the town’s old name.
“The queen had it changed a few years ago. The sign’s so nice though, and all the townsponies pitched in to make it, and the gold paint is made with real gold. So we all decided it would be best just to keep the sign up.
The sign being the town’s old name cast a long shadow over the road. Welcome to Queenstown, it read. Seat of HRH Queen Celestia. Pop. 4,000 16,00041,000 72,000
Sir Diamond Heart kept stealing glances at Twilight’s flank. At first, Applejack thought it was a case of ponies being ponies. They had strange mating rituals, and their culture was so much more open towards the sort of promiscuous behavior that would make even the ruttiest young buck’s head spin. They had this thing where they held each other’s hooves for prolonged periods of time, just because. It was dangerous, not to mention germy. And the things they did with their mouths! The incessant talking wasn’t even the worst of it.
“So how do you deer talk, anyway? Do you do use sign language or something? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”
Actually, the talking was probably worse.
Diamond Heart made a sudden reach for Twilight’s flank. Applejack prepared to buck his teeth through the back of his head.
“You still have it, right?”
Only the pity in his voice stayed Applejack’s hooves. Twilight nodded, then motioned for him to continue. She delayed her start by just a hair, so he wound up walking in front. Less chance of wandering eyes. Or hooves.
Unity Town—or Queenstown, or whatever it was—rose up abruptly from the countryside, a mishmash of defensive fortifications and tall timber buildings. The original town’s wood palisades had been mostly torn down, though a few pieces had been integrated into the downtown core’s architecture. A second set of wooden walls had been partially erected only to be consumed by the rapidly growing metropolis. Masons were hard at work laying a third more permanent set of stone walls, though as Twilight and Applejack passed through the gates they saw that construction of new buildings had nearly reached these walls as well. The city was a snake smothering in its own skin.
In the center of it all stood the queen’s castle. Twilight and Applejack bristled at the sight of dozens of knights manning the battlements.
“Don’t worry,” Diamond Heart said. “You’re under my protection.”
We’re gonna die, Twilight thought.
Diamond Heart marched the deer up to the main gate and shot off a crisp salute to the knight guarding the entrance. The knight, an earth pony dressed in gold armor, didn’t salute back.
“Name, rank, state your business,” one of the gold knights said.
“Diamond Heart. Knight. There’s been a discovery in the Everfree forest. I need to speak to the queen immediately.”
Diamond Heart started towards the gate, but was stopped by the clatter of the gold knight’s spear falling just inches in front of his face.
“Your real name,” the gold knight said. His voice was gruff, unhurried. He seemed to be enjoying this.
“Diamond Heart. That’s my real name.”
“Your thestral name.”
“Are you mad because my pony name is nicer than yours? What’s your name? Corn Chowder? Farmer’s Tan?”
The spear swung forward and tapped Diamond Heart in the forehead. The helmet absorbed the blow, but the invisible barrier between the two knights disappeared. Armor flashed. Sabers rattled. The two got right into each others’ faces, spitting insults and hurling defamatory accusations.
“We should’a banished you bats along with your plotface princess. I oughta call for reinforcements. Let’s make this a proper battle.”
“You want to lose that bad? Any other day I’d say yes. But I have more important things to worry about than one malformed cornstalk wearing armor he doesn’t deserve.” Diamond Heart motioned to Twilight. “C’mon. Show him.”
Slowly, Twilight produced the crown from her whitherbag. The gold knight’s jaw went slack as his eyes fell on the piece. “That’s...”
“That’s right. Now, if you’d please—”
“That’s government property.” The gold knight leveled his spear at the two deer. “You’re both under arrest. Drop the crown.”
Twilight and Applejack scampered back before drawing matching teleportation runes in the dirt. They stood perfectly still, legs coiled like springs, waiting for the guard to make a move.
I knew this was a bad idea, Twilight thought. We should just take it home—
No, asserted Applejack. Let’s see how this plays out. If we bolt, they’ll have every knight in the kingdom lookin’ for us. We still have the advantage here.
Diamond Heart stepped between the deer and the spear. “Those two are under my protection. Put down your spear.”
The gold knight nodded towards the sky. “You swore to protect the dark princess, too. What does your word even mean?”
“Do I look that old? I’m only twenty six. I was fourteen years too late to swear any oaths.”
“Makes no difference to me. Turn your vampire keister around and find a nice barn to roost in, traitor.”
The comment hit Diamond Heart as hard as a falling oak tree. He roared, and launched himself at the gold knight, batting the spearpoint away and rushing in for a strike. The gold knight smiled. He rocked back on his hooves. The fight was on.
“What in the bellowing dragonsbreath is going on here?”
The newcomer’s voice made the the two knights veer off. From inside the castle charged the towering frame of a knight commander. The warring knights shrunk into their armor like turtles as he approached.
“What’s this? Fighting at the front gates? Is this some sort of thestral invasion?” The commander was a full head taller than the two knights. Decorations littered his armor like corpses on a battlefield. His voice reeked of fury and fermented honey. “Are you on our side, knight?”
“Yes, sir!” Diamond Heart recovered and snapped to attention. “I’m a knight of the realm, swore to defend—”
“Shut up. You.” The commander wheeled around on the gold knight. “Are you trying to discredit the knighthood?”
“No, sir.” The gold knight trembled in his gilded boots.
“You might be the worst gate guard I’ve ever seen. All you had to do was stand there, and you couldn’t even manage that. How do you mess that up?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
The commander pointed to Diamond Heart. “Who is that?”
“He says his name is Diamond Heart, sir.”
“What is he?”
“A thestral, sir.”
“What is he?”
“A knight,” the gold knight squeaked. “A knight.”
“That’s right. He’s the same as you.”
“Sir—”
“Are you saying I’m a liar?”
“No, sir.”
“He’s a knight. You’re a knight. If there are any brain cells still floating around inside that vast, empty skull of yours, you will grant him and his charges entry to the castle.”
The gold knight pivoted crisply to face Diamond Heart. “You are hereby granted entry to Unity Castle, knight Diamond Heart. Crown’s blessing.”
“Crown’s blessing,” Diamond Heart replied, saluting the gold knight in sheer terror.
As he passed through the gate, the commander stooped down beside Diamond Heart and whispered into his ear, “You swore your knightly oath to more than just the queen. You swore it to every citizen in the realm.” He jabbed a hoof at the gold knight. “Including him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Honor that oath, or get out of that armor.”
“Yes, sir.”
Without looking back, Diamond Heart motioned for Twilight and Applejack to follow.
Twilight gushed, internally, over every square inch of the castle’s interior.
Look at those vaulted ceilings! The use of lumber in a cathedral style dates back two hundred years. And those chandeliers have real candles in them! Such a classy move.
I wouldn’t call open flames in a wood house classy, sugarcube.
You’re missing the point. This castle didn’t exist twenty years ago. The builders’ choice to harken back to an older design tells us a lot about them.
Yeah, it sure does.
Applejack, be serious. Tell me why you think a new city is using old designs.
They got a death wish, more’n likely.
The trio entered a hallway decorated with elaborately framed works of art. Diamond Heart glanced over his shoulder and caught Twilight staring at a painting of a unicorn mage blasting an army of griffons with a magical laser.
“That painting leaves out a lot of context,” Diamond Heart said. “Those griffons had four hundred pony hostages working as slaves in a salt mine.” They rounded another corner, and the art got more graphic. “Girls, I need you to focus on the task at hoof. You’re about to meet the queen. For the sake of court proceedings, it would be easier to say you’re diplomats.” For a moment, he became lost in his thoughts. “I guess I never really asked if you are diplomats. Blink once for yes and twice for no.”
The deer hadn’t stopped looking at the paintings. One showcased a diamond dog being stabbed by a unicorn berserker with a razor-sharp horn.
“I’m just gonna say you’re diplomats.”
The door to the throne room opened wide. The three stepped into the throne room, a massive circle-shaped room lined with towering columns of polished timber. In the center of the room sat the pony queen, a brilliant white alicorn standing a full three heads taller than her peers. It would have been four, were she not so slouched over on her throne. Her mane was the color of a fondly remembered sunrise, and flowed ethereally out in every direction. The bags beneath her eyes were deep like the mystery of night. She snorted, sucked in snot, swallowed. Her eyes shifted slowly, lizardlike, to Diamond Heart and the deer.
“Can I help you, knight?”
Diamond Heart executed a crisp salute, then prostrated himself on the floor. “My queen!”
The queen’s shoulders slumped even further. Her voice dripped out molasses-slow. “There is, I’m sure you’re aware, specific protocol for requesting an audience.”
“Of course, your majesty.” Diamond Herat shot to his hooves and marched to the center of the room. “This falls under the purview of an emergency declaration, which supersedes normal court proceedings.”
The queen sighed. “Very well, then. Proceed.”
“Thank you, your majesty. While hunting for monsters on the border of the Everfree forest, I came across two envoys from the midwest deer tribes. They are grateful to see Everfree Castle being refurbished, and as a token of their appreciation, they wish to give her majesty a gift.”
The queen blinked. “Tribute has its own dedicated vetting process. Please take the gift and run it through the proper channels.”
“I can’t do that.”
The queen raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Ah. Well. I’m not allowed.”
“Says who?”
“Says you, actually.” Diamond Heart motioned to Twilight and Applejack. “Deer, please present the queen with her gift of friendship.”
Hold up, Twilight thought to Applejack, we aren’t grateful for what they’re doing to that ruin. He’s completely misrepresenting our case.
You wanna bail now? Sir Idiotface will chase us all the way back to the forest. They’ll flatten the rest of it looking for us.
I won’t cower before ponies.
Now now, no one’s askin’ anyone to cower. A pause. Maybe just a little bit of bobbin’ and weavin’.
“Any time now,” Sir Diamond Heart said. He tapped a hoof nervously against the polished stone floor. “They’re just... taking it all in.”
We should ask for something in return, Twilight said.
You wanna threaten their queen?
It’s not threatening, it’s bartering. This is a golden opportunity, Applejack.
What are you gonna ask for? Textbooks?
Yes, actually. Textbooks would be a brilliant exchange.
You’re just sayin’ that cuz you’re the only one in the tribe who knows how to read.
“In the interest of transparency,” Celestia cut in, “I would like to make you aware that I can hear you.”
The deer stiffened. You can? Applejack asked.
“Yes.”
Diamond Heart glanced around the room, confused. “Who are you talking to, your majesty?”
Applejack thought, Uh, sorry. We didn’t mean any of that.
Celestia nodded. “Actually, an exchange sounds like an excellent idea. I’m grateful for the deer tribes’ commitment to peaceful cohabitation of the Everfree forest.”
Peaceful? Your ponies are clear-cuttin’—
“Enough small talk.” The queen leaned forward, placing her head in her hooves. “What’s this incredible artifact of yours?”
A look passed between Twilight and Applejack. Slowly, Twilight undid the clasp on her whitherbag and removed the crown.
The queen’s face twisted into an undisguised snarl. Her mane flared with magical static. Her horn flared to life. Twilight felt the crown yanked from her hooves, nearly carrying her along with it.
Hey! Applejack leapt to Twilight’s defense only to be pushed back by a wave of heat pouring off the alicorn’s horn. Diamond Heart let out a high-pitched squeak of alarm and jumped back.
“Where did you find this?” Celestia’s voice became two-toned. Something low and rattly, a vibration that could be felt as much as heard, passed through the room. “Don’t lie to me.”
Mmnf—the forest led us to it. Twilight groaned as she picked herself up from the floor. There was a ruined castle in the forest. We found it in the rubble.
“That’s no castle. It’s a tomb.”
The heat in the room grew heavier. The clasps on Twilight’s whitherbag heated up. She cried out in alarm as one brushed against her fur. The pages and couriers and fancy pony nobles all fled for their lives.
“Your majesty, please be reasonable,” Diamond Heart said. “This room’s made of wood.”
The uncaring rage of the sun turned with a fine mirror focus on Diamond Heart. The edges of his armor started to glow red. He ripped off his helmet with a hiss of pain.
“Funny you of all knights should find them.” Her voice was blacker than a total eclipse. “Did you lead them to the castle? Still loyal to the nightmare?”
“No!” Diamond Heart had to shout over the roar of magical flames. “I swore an oath to you.”
“You swore an oath to her, once.”
“Seriously? I’m only twenty six! I really don’t look that old!”
He wasn’t with us when we found the crown, Applejack jumped in. We offered it to him before we knew what it was, and he refused. Twilight, tell her. Twi—
A stone floor tile shattered under the heat. Shards of molten rock whipped through the air. One grazed Twilight’s cheek. She shuddered and staggered back. Her eyes locked straight ahead. Her whole body went rigid. In an instant, she was gone. The death lock had her.
Oh jeez. Oh boy. More debris whipped past Applejack’s head. Teleportation runes weren’t possible here—she needed to draw them in the earth itself for the magic to work. Every escape attempt she conjured ended with her and Twilight as charred venison smears on the floor. More stone sang through the air. Dust kicked up and conflagrated. Oh jeez.
The timber beams above the throne groaned under the heat. The air screamed like a forest fire, a million fires all collapsing into one. For a split second, Applejack felt the flames suck the air from her lungs. Her breath hitched. She choked. Diamond Heart cried out, “Luna wouldn’t want this!”
For an instant, Diamond Heart’s plea only seemed to make the fire grow hotter. But as the moments dragged on, the magical tap feeding fuel to the fire kinked and knotted. The flames sputtered. The heat dropped. The air equalized. The castle itself sighed with relief.
Where once the core of the fire had raged, there now stood one very tired alicorn. Her epaulets glowed red. The throne was charred black, the stone at the top drooping slightly. The crown in her hooves looked no worse for wear.
Diamond Heart scrambled to rip off his armor. A piece of his tail was on fire. Applejack watched, dumbstruck, as he chased it in circles. The drop in temperature and the change in lighting finally snapped Twilight out of the death lock. She tackled the burning knight and smothered the flames with her body.
Celestia collapsed into the charred wreck of her throne. “I’m cursed,” she muttered, her voice scratchy like sun-scorched grass. “As if the sun’s not... not...” She looked to her right. “Heavy enough.”
A sootstained Twilight staggered to her hooves. Mutually beneficial exchange.
Celestia picked her head up. “What.”
You said a mutually beneficial exchange could strengthen the bond between the pony and deer tribes.
Twi, Applejack thought, now is not the time—
A low laugh cut Applejack off. Celestia rose from the wreckage of the throne to her full regal height. Her mane barely radiated now. Her tail brushed the floor.
“It’s never the right time for anything.” Her horn lit up. Diamond Heart flinched. The throne room doors swung open with a colossal bang, exposing the myriad of nobles and courtesans cowering in the hallways. “Court’s back in session,” Celestia announced.
Court transcribers rushed into the room and started hammering away at their mechanical typing machines. Pages rushed this way and that with satchels filled with scrolls. The nobles inched their way back into the room.
Celestia continued, “These deer, along with Sir Diamond Heart, have returned a precious personal item to me. They seek to collect a bounty, and I am honor-bound to fulfill their request. Name what you desire, and it will be yours.”
Land, Applejack said without hesitation.
No, books, AJ. Books! Twilight shot her friend an angry look, but after the heat of the previous moment, such a look barely bothered Applejack.
“Deer aren’t partial to owning land,” Celestia noted.
We’re not. We don’t want to own it. We just want you to leave it be. We saw what you’re doin’ around those old castle ruins. A castle in the forest ain’t so bad, but you got enough chainsaws and defoliators to clear out a thousand acres. You gotta call ‘em off.
The look on Twilight’s face slowly changed. The anger was there, but inside that passion grew a glimmer of hope. I don’t know what this crown means to you, Twilight thought, but it clearly belongs here with you. Even if you’re unable to fulfill our request, I’m glad the crown’s back in the right hooves.
“I... I’m touched by your sentiment.” The queen turned her weary eyes to the assembled crowd. “These deer have done me a great service. They’ve brought me back a priceless relic from a simpler time. In exchange, they ask that I enforce a hard border between our land and the woods. To preserve the forest’s health, and the health of those who call it home.”
A murmur rippled through the throne room. “Your majesty,” a dismayed Diamond Heart spoke up, “if we draw a border at the forest’s edge, it would mean abandoning the reconstruction efforts of the castle.”
To the deers’ surprise, they saw a faint, relieved smile play across Celestia’s face. “It would.”
“We can’t let that happen. That castle is a monument to the worst mistake in a thousand years.” He took a cautious step towards the throne. Without his armor on, his wiry frame and sweat-matted fur were on full display. “Speaking as a thestral, ma’am—we have to bulldoze that castle. Whatever it was before, it’s a monument to a mistake now.”
“Your wish comes from a good place, knight. But I wish to honor the request of these brave deer. We’ll enforce the border, to the extent that we can. No ponies will clear any piece of the Everfree forest for any reason, except to maintain its current border with our farmlands. Let the spirits take the castle.”
“But there’s already a team of knights at the castle. They’re making preparations for demolition as we speak.”
A blank scroll snapped into being beside the queen, along with a quill and pen. “Someone will have to deliver the news, then.” Celestia scribbled away for a second, a look of childlike concentration on her face as she dotted the T’s and crossed the I’s. “There.” She rolled the scroll up. “Sir Diamond Heart, I command you to bring this message to your fellow knights at the old castle. Tell them what I have decreed and show them this message. This is your solemn duty.”
Diamond Heart bowed low. “Yes, your majesty.”
The queen considered the knight before her. “Legends are dangerous. They make monsters out of shadows.” A sudden realization crossed her face. “Write this down. There’s a new royal decree. As of today, we’ll strike every mention of the lost sister from history.”
A gasp rippled through the hall. Diamond Heart momentarily forgot the usual honorifics and blurted out, “Are you serious?”
“Very. As the forest reclaims the castle, let time reclaim her memory.”
For a long time, no one spoke. The nobles seemed unsure of this compromise. Silent turmoil gripped Diamond Heart. Even Twilight and Applejack, ignorant though they were to the context of the thestral oath, felt the aura in the room waver. Everypony waited for someone else to speak up.
Diamond Heart finally broke the silence. He rapped his hooves on the stone floor and shouted, “All hail the queen!”
A chorus rose up with him. Stomping hooves and cries of affirmation echoed in the rafters. The queen seemed to stand a little taller, her eyes a little colder.
Then, through the din, Twilight and Applejack heard a voice.
They must forget.
The deer leapt in surprise. No one else seemed to notice. No one else could hear.
In time, only I will remember. I’ll mix mortar from stardust and tears. I’ll rebuild your castle out of memories. And when the time is right, the day star will align out of sight, and I will aid in your escape.
When the cheering died down and the courtesans returned to their duties, Twilight walked up to Celestia and asked, Your majesty? If it’s not too much trouble—I was wondering, as a personal favor, if we could still borrow some books.
Applejack rolled her eyes. Oh, brother.
The queen giggled. Her look seemed lighter than it had before. More detached. “Knowledge is the gateway to understanding. I’d be honored to give you a tour of my library. You can borrow any book you’d like.”
Twilight’s ears stood up. Really?
“Yes, really.” She smiled at Twilight. “Anything but the history books.”
Diamond Heart’s shoulder plates and hoofguards had melted beyond the point of repair during his standoff with queen Celestia. The castle armorer didn’t have any replacements in thestral blue and black, so until a new set could be forged, Diamond Heart had to make due with temporary pieces cast in gaudy day-knight gold.
“I’m gonna get laughed out of the night guard,” he lamented as he followed Twilight and Applejack through Unity Town. His attitude started to improve when ponies stopped in the street to bow to the patchwork knight. A few even cheered. Word traveled fast in this town, it seemed. Not surprising, considering ponies’ knack for gossip.
By the time they were out of town, Diamond Heart’s ego was fully inflated once more. He cantered with his head up, easily keeping pace with the deer despite his heavy armor. Twilight, whose whitherbags were loaded down with books borrowed from the queen’s private library, huffed and puffed under her load.
I bet you’re heavier than he is, Applejack thought.
I’m not the one who asked for acorns and apples on the way out.
What do you got against apples? Apples taste good.
They’re nutritionally lacking.
So are books.
Twilight snorted. You don’t eat books. And by the way, we’ll have to bring these back at some point. Want to come with me when I return them?
Twi, I know the princess made you sign a ledger and all, but if you give another creature something on a thousand year lease, you’re probably not expecting it back.
We’ll leave a note so our descendents know when to return it.
Applejack snorted. Right.
By the time they made it to the forest’s edge, it was nearly dark. Diamond Heart paused at the forest’s edge. “So, that’s it then?”
The deer nodded in unison.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Before you go, there’s something I wanted to say. I wanted to say it to you, because I think we’re friends now, and if I said it to a pony they might arrest me.” All that bluster he’d worked so hard to build back up whooshed away in an instant. “It probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but that decree the queen made—I think it’s wrong.”
Both deer cocked their heads in surprise.
“Shh, keep it down!” he hissed. His eyes darted around to make sure they were alone. “I thought I wanted this. But now that it’s actually happening... She’s wiping the slate clean for us. Everyone’s going to forget our greatest shame. Isn’t that good?” He started to pace. “But they won’t just forget our mistakes. They’ll forget what we built. What we overcame. They’ll forget her. I know the queen just wants what’s best, but she can’t silence us like that.”
That’s for dang sure, Applejack thought.
Twilight politely shushed her.
Diamond Heart continued, “I always thought the unity of the kingdom depended on my silence. Now I think it depends on my voice. I know you can’t speak to me, but I was wondering, if it’s not too much of an imposition, if you would sit with me for a while and listen. I have a very important story to pass along.”
Twilight considered the knight’s request. What do you think? she asked Applejack.
Applejack shrugged. What the hay. I’m in no rush.
You mean it?
Eeyup. I might have been a bit obtuse before. That promise to leave the forest ain’t gonna stop us from seeing ponies. I guess it’d be good for the tribe if we knew a bit about their history. They’re just creatures too.
Twilight’s heart swelled with happiness. I have an idea. Get comfy. This might take a minute.
Oh boy.
Twilight settled down in the grass across from Diamond Heart. He took a breath to begin, but she shushed him before the words could come out. From her whitherbag, she produced a history textbook, as well as a pen. She flipped to the very end of the book, where the publisher had left several blank pages.
At the top, she wrote in measured, elegant mouthwriting:
Anecdotal Thestral History of the Lunar Rebellion and Post-Rebellion Years
She gave the book and the pen to Diamond Heart. He stared at the words in awe. “You deer are full of surprises.”
He spent all night writing. When he was done the next morning, Twilight turned to the very first page, where there was some unused space beneath the publisher’s information, and wrote the words, thank you, for Diamond Heart to read. He looked at the book, then her. Then he nodded. At last, they were speaking each others’ language.
Twilight tucked the book carefully back into her whitherbag. Together with Applejack at her side, she stepped soundlessly into the underbrush of the Everfree forest. Trees swayed out of the way. Rocks shimmied aside. A path appeared where none had been a moment ago. They stepped through the gap and started home.
