Honeymoon Phase

Chapters

Huitzilopochtli Cannot Handle a Hangover
A Tapestry of the Hearth's Warming
Helia and the Flank that Launched a Thousand Ships
Odyssey's Adventure, Original Copy
Solene's Crippling Alektorophobia
The Staff of Wabbajack
Soleste is Quite Sauced
A Vase Representing Minotaur-Pony Friendship
Celeste's Very Pointy Horn
A Copy of the Treaty of 804
Celestia and the Breakfast of Champions
Huitzy and Xiuhcoatl
A Brochure for Seaward Shoals, Slightly Singed

Huitzilopochtli Cannot Handle a Hangover

Celestia awoke to sunlight flittering across her muzzle.

It was the first time in many years she was not responsible for it.

Her mouth was dry. In fact, it was beyond dry. It was a desert of a sandy dune for a tongue and scorching rocks for teeth. She slowly forced her muzzle to close, then open. A dry wheeze rattled from her throat as a crusted magenta eye cracked open.

It was too bright. The eye closed, then opened again. The pupil dilated. She was laying on her bed, but her head hung off the side, facing the balcony. Something was stuck to her horn. Celestia forced her throat to swallow, then opened her other eye.

Luna was standing on the opposite balcony in a starry nightcap. She bore a look of absolute disappointment, then shook her wavy mane and slammed the balcony doors shut. Her blue curtains bulled across the windows as the alicorn went back to bed.

Celestia lifted her horn, letting a four-thousand-bit pillow slide off the end where it had been speared lengthwise. She smacked dry, cracked lips before wheezing again. Her legs and wings were tangled in stained bedsheets.

Oh Crom…

Celestia had not thought about that ancient deity in untold years, but neither had she gotten this drunk since those days. The pounding at the base of her horn brought a sense of queasiness to her stomach. She dared not use her magic, so she carefully extracted her hooves from the nest of sheets with trembling limbs.

Her private shower turned off. Celestia did not notice. She further did not notice the earth pony wander out of the bathroom with one of her best towels wrapped around his mane and another around his barrel. His eyes were bloodshot, but he grinned at her.

“Good Morning, Princess,” the stallion drawled in a soft voice.

Celestia stared at him. The stallion pointed to the nightstand with a lacquered hoof. She noted it was her lacquer. She turned her head as quickly as she could, which was glacially slow considering the migraine. Her crusty eyes landed on a glass of stagnant water.

The alicorn leaned down and bit the rim with her teeth, tipping the glass back and chugging what she could down. She coughed, but forced herself to swallow. A memory seized her of once plunging her muzzle into a river, guzzling down the only fresh water source in miles. She would have died if not for that river.

Celestia was only little Huitzilopochtli then, wandering through a jungle.

A far bigger mare unclenched her jaw and let the glass gracelessly fall to the bedspread. She licked her lips to moisten them, then tried to smile. “My little pony…” she rasped, then suppressed a wince at the absolute destruction of her normally kind tone.

She sounded like she ate rocks.

“Pet names already?” the stallion laughed. He fluffed the towel around his mane. Celestia admitted he was her type: well built, solid, with large hooves and a square jaw. She had always preferred earth ponies.

Which was a problem, because she hadn’t taken anypony to bed in…

Celestia blinked crusty eyes and struggled to focus them on the grinning stallion. He crossed the bedroom and set out a secondhoof tuxedo that had been sprawled on the floor, grimacing at the stains on the fabric.

“Oh, they’re gonna charge me double to clean this.” His muzzle brightened. “I guess that isn’t a problem anymore, huh?” the stallion said to the alicorn on the bed.

“My little pony…” Celestia rasped again. Her head pounded. The guards wouldn’t have let a random stallion into her bedroom. “What are you doing in my room?”

The stallion froze mid-grin. His bloodshot eyes were very wide, and he sucked in a breath. “How…” he paused. “How much do you remember about last night, Princess?”

The alicorn sluggishly raised her right wing to blot out the sun. As she moved it, Celestia registered the fine silk hanging from her feathers, attached to a dress that flowed down her back. She knew that kind of dress; she had stood before many mares wearing a similar gown.

Celestia had married many couples wearing gowns, having officiated their weddings. For now, she used the silk to blot out the rays of her cursed sun. The alicorn eyed the tuxedo, then the bow tie that was hanging off the rotating fan above her horn. She caught a glint of metal in the edges of her vision when her runny eyes squinted upwards.

The Sun Princess leaned down and gracelessly pawed at her horn, finally spotting the golden band plugged halfway down the spirals. She took in a deep breath, then exhaled. It was time for damage control.

“My little pony,” Celestia said in a voice that sounded like she had drunk nothing but hard liquor for three centuries, “are we married?”

The stallion squeaked.

Celestia accepted that as a yes. “What is your name?” she ground out.

The stallion bowed properly now. His head towel slipped down and revealed a dark brown, bushy mane. His voice squeaked again. Celestia waited on the bed, squinting and somehow feeling her heartbeat in her horn.

“J-jungle Trek,” the stallion whickered on his knees. He stood up. “I-I swear, I d-didn’t—” Celestia closed her eyes as the stallion raised his voice, which he took as a sign to talk even louder. “We…we didn’t d-do anything! I s-swear it!”

Celestia breathed in through her nose. “I believe you,” she rasped.

“O-oh thank Cele— uh, you.” The earth pony wiped a fetlock across his muzzle. “You were quite the cuddler, but, uh, passed out like a rock and didn’t let go until thirty minutes ago.”

The room smells of vomit, alcohol, and sweat, but not sex, you foal. Celestia tried to push out the unkind thought. “You are not one of my guards,” she said aloud. “You were at the gala.”

“In the garden,” Jungle Trek confirmed.

Celestia remembered.

Somewhat.

It was hazy.

She was on her seventeenth cocktail and an earth pony in a poorly-fitting tuxedo had made some horrible joke. The alicorn found it hilarious. He had told another, more emboldened, and she spoke with him while a waiter fetched more drinks.

She remembered the drinks. Celestia hiccupped on the bed and still tasted the fruit in the back of her mouth. It made her stomach twist. And she vaguely remembered flying. Or teleporting.

Celestia craned her neck back, risking exposure to the dreaded sun on the open balcony. She grabbed a velvet rope hanging beside the ruined pillows with her teeth and tugged. A dainty bell rang above the bed, magically enhanced to chime to the hallway outside.

A maid and guard entered the moment the ringing stopped. The stallion was one of Luna’s Night Guards with enchanted bat wings, which was unusual because it was the day shift. The maid was a pegasus. Both bowed before the bed with the utmost decorum.

“Princess Celestia,” they intoned together. Celestia nodded. Slowly. They stood.

Jungle Trek stood to the side, ears pinned. The maid and guard turned to him.

“Prince Jungle Trek,” they said formally and bowed as well.

Jungle Trek squeaked, then grinned. “Uh, r-rise?”

They did so.

Celestia watched the exchange and felt the pounding in her horn double. She couldn’t help the squint. “Sergeant Nocturne, Miss Lily.”

“Princess Celestia,” the guard dipped his head. The maid did the same.

“May we discuss last night?” Celestia rasped as professionally as she could in a stained wedding dress on a trashed bed. Her mane and tail were limp, roiling like her stomach.

“I…” the guard hesitated, “I have a prepared statement from Princess Luna.” He pulled a scroll out from a slot under his wing.

Celestia waited.

“I have been told to read it verbatim,” the guard elaborated with nervous golden eyes.

Celestia waited with a frown.

“Sister: You declared that stallion to be the love of your life in the garden, then teleported him to a Thestral Moonspeaker and demanded to be married. After being informed you needed a dress to buy time, you ransacked Miss Rarity’s Canterlot store for a wedding dress—which she happened to have one in your size and that raises many questions—whereupon you were married under the light of my moon at 2:43 AM. I was busy dealing with the nobility—again—and I am afraid the marriage is binding. It is in the morning news. Last night you dreamed of hayburgers and your husband dreamed of being suffocated by a giant snake because you were crushing him with your forelegs.”

Jungle Trek flinched and popped a foreleg. Celestia realized some parts of his blue fur were darker blue because of the bruising underneath. She sighed. “Is that all?”

“Yes, Princess,” the guard nodded. “Secretary Inkwell has arranged for a meeting this morning to discuss the… situation.”

“Thank you,” Celestia rasped. “Dismissed. I need a word with my… my husband.”

The maid and guard bowed again, then bowed to the new Prince Jungle Trek, then backed out of the room. The click of the door as it closed reverberated through the alicorn’s skull, somehow as loud as a gong. Or cathedral bells. She turned crusty, bloodshot eyes to the earth pony.

He flinched. Despite using her shower and tub fit for four, the stallion still looked horrifically hungover. He simply carried it better, which was a sure sign Celestia still had a quality choice in husbands. The alicorn’s horn glowed for a moment, but the effort made her headache a thousand times worse. It felt like a spear had been driven into the base of her skull.

“There are curtains,” Celestia rasped. The raised wing fluttered vaguely in the direction of the window. Her cursed sun still streamed through the glass on the balcony doors. And Luna’s door remained closed with dark curtains drawn.

The Prince shuffled over to the balcony and tugged them shut. The towel around his barrel slipped, revealing a cutie mark of a map flanked by trees with a small dotted line to a larger X. Celestia admitted to herself it was a decent enough flank; it also marked the earth pony as an explorer.

“Were you here with the Cartographical Society of Canterlot?” Celestia asked. Her voice remained gravelly.

“Yes,” Jungle Trek said confidently. He tugged the towel up without a shred of confidence and offered the mare a brittle smile. “I, uh, this wasn’t exactly a planned—”

Celestia stumbled off the bed with the grace of a foal learning to walk. Her bridal veil dragged across the floor with the rest of the silk. With the pearl curtains closed, she managed to marginally open her eyes and step around her golden horseshoes laying on the rug.

The alicorn flared her wings for balance as she shuffled to the bathroom. The Prince—her husband—remained at the curtain. Celestia stopped before the door, eyes sluggishly moving to the pith helmet on the shelf beside her golden tiara. Her neck creaked as she turned back to Jungle Trek.

The earth pony swallowed. “You, uh, put it there. Last night.” He raised his forehooves and mimed reaching for it. “The shelf is, uh, a little high.”

Celestia should have carefully grabbed the helmet and set it down for the earth pony. Or she could have asked her maids to clean up the room afterwards. Instead, she roughly grabbed the helmet with a curled wing and slung it across the room to the bed. It landed upright with a muted thump, puffing a few feathers from her destroyed pillow into the air.

She bumped against the doorframe before using it as a guide into the bathroom, then kicked the door shut behind her. Celestia did not need many cosmetics; her mane and tail effectively took care of themselves. Right now, they hung like limp noodles from her head and tail, wriggling like worms drawn up from the ground.

Should just cut them off again. Celestia did not feel much like a Princess. She stumbled up to her sink, knocked the empty jar of hoof lacquer aside, then stared at the ruin of a mare in the mirror. Her eye shadow from the Gala ran down into her fur, her lipstick was smudged down her chin, and the ring on her horn appeared to have come from a cereal box.

She leaned forward and pressed the tip of her horn against the glass. She let her head hang above the sink, breathing through her nose. Her stomach still flip-flopped above her hooves. Celestia did not trust her magic, so slid her head down and bit on the faucet nob, turning it to ice cold.

After letting it fill up slightly, she plunged her muzzle into the sink. The makeup and mascara floated as it washed away in the icy-cold water. Celestia remained with her head in the sink for three minutes, then withdrew and snorted out her nose. The shock of the cold managed to make her fully open her eyes for the first time since she woke up.

It was nearly impossible to tell where the bloodshot veins ended and her magenta irises began. Her pupils were pinpricks in the bathroom lights. She raised her wings, noting a loose primary feather in the left, then flicked the switches for the fans. Several industrial-strength fans hummed and sucked the moisture out the room, clearing the fog. Celestia was left standing in her white wedding dress. It was a shade brighter than her coat color. She slowly turned around and craned her neck back to look for the zipper.

It was melted. Fused together, actually.

That suggested she was attempting to take it off last night, and was too drunk to manage her telekinesis. Celestia took a deep breath, feeling the fabric pinch against her flank and barrel. Because I need to lay off the cake.

She ripped the dress off with a loud, rending tear. A moment later, she realized what she just did as she stared at the scraps of expensive silk littering her bathroom floor. The alicorn’s wings sagged.

“Note,” she said hoarsely to her haggard reflection, “recompense Miss Rarity.”

The alicorn left the bathroom after a short, bitterly cold shower. She wore no towel; her fur wafted with bits of steam as the residual droplets burned away. Her husband had used all the conditioner for her illustrious, elemental mane, so it floated about with visible split ends and no discernable pattern.

Prince Jungle Trek had put on his second-hoof tuxedo. He blushed and turned away with a wriggling tail. Celestia raised a brow at the attempted modesty.

I recall being equally naked at the party.

“You were, Princess,” Jungle Trek said to the wall. “A-apologies.”

Celestia’s eye twitched in time with the throbbing from her horn. And my internal filter is off, she thought consciously. Jungle Trek did not respond, so that boded well. She levitated over her golden horseshoes and shoved them on.

She only found three of them. Celestia stared at the floor, then crouched down to peer under the bed. She gagged from the motion as the pounding in her horn doubled.

The Prince coughed awkwardly and held the missing horseshoe out. It laid over his own forehoof as if he were a foal trying on his mother’s shoes. “You, uh, dropped it at the chapel and I never had the chance to give it back,” he said lamely.

Celestia’s attempted thankful smile was more of a grimace. Her magic wobblily levitated the horseshoe over to her left foreleg, then she took a few breaths before standing up. She did so slowly, conscious of her stomach. “Thank you, my little pony,” she said as regally as she could.

Which was not very regal at all. Celestia finally levitated her tiara off the shelf and affixed it to her head, adjusting it with a tired wing. Husband stared up at wife with the face of a foal caught with his hoof in the cookie jar.

Best say it now. “We are getting a divorce,” Celestia said gracelessly. “Immediately.”

Jungle Trek’s expression collapsed, then immediately returned with a look of affected nonchalance. “Well, yeah,” he scoffed. “Of course. I never expected otherwise.”

Celestia closed her eyes. “I am sorry, my little pony. It has been a long time since I have…indulged to such a degree.” In more ways than one.

Jungle Trek squeaked.

Celestia opened her bloodshot eyes. Her husband gaped up at her. “I said that last part out loud, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jungle Trek said smoothly. He waved a hoof after recovering. “I…I understand. It’s not you; it’s me. This relationship just won’t work. I’m much too busy.”

“From Blueblood’s example, being a Prince isn’t much work at all,” Celestia snorted before she could stop herself.

Jungle Trek laughed. It was a good baritone.

Celestia finally managed a proper soft smile, then extracted the ring from her horn. She inspected it briefly. She had assumed it was old in the mirror from the dullness of the gold, but in truth it was tarnished with age. The ring was very, very old, and the inscription on the inside was nearly faded.

It was in the old, nameless tongue, long before Ponish.

Beloved, Season Unending

Huitzilopochtli dropped the ring from her magic, then managed to catch it with a sluggish wing. It caught on one of her misaligned primary feathers, and she ground her teeth. “Where…where did you get this?” she said to her husband.

Jungle Trek blinked.

Huitzilopochtli realized she was speaking the old tongue.

“I’m sorry,” Celestia apologized. “Where did you get this?” she repeated.

“Oh,” Jungle Trek chuckled, “one of the digs.” His muzzle quirked. “From the Cartographer’s Society!” he added quickly.

Celestia floated the ring back up to her muzzle. Should I be flattered or upset that the wedding ring is as old as I am? She snorted. Not as if he knew that. “I was surprised by the inscription,” the alicorn admitted. “This is a very old ring. And very expensive to the right ponies.”

“Oh,” Jungle Trek shrugged a hoof. “It was just laying around in a ruin.” He brushed his helmet around and pointed at a tear. “Bent down to pick it up and dodged the dart trap.”

Celestia laughed. She felt queasy afterwards. The alicorn tossed the ring back. “I won’t deprive you of your lucky ring.”

Her aim was off and the ring fell three hooves short. Jungle Trek limped over and picked it up. His pith helmet did not match the tuxedo. Celestia noted he hesitated before bending down and picking up the ring with his teeth, tucking it into a jacket pocket. He breathed out through his nose.

“You’re taking your liquor better than I am,” Celestia said aloud. She winced afterwards. Think before you speak. It was a tall command, considering the ache in her head.

“Practice,” Jungle Trek said slyly. “Half of the job is drinking.”

Princess Celestia and Prince Jungle Trek stared at each other awkwardly.

Her stomach rumbled.

Celestia’s ears pinned back. “Breakfast,” she decided aloud, “then we’ll talk about…the situation.”

“You mean get divorced,” Jungle Trek said neutrally. He smirked afterwards.

“Yes,” Celestia admitted. “I…” she stumbled, “I hope I did not ruin a marriage.”

“Oh no!” Jungle Trek huffed. “Not married. E-except to you. You asked.”

“I did?” Celestia hiccupped and tasted the fruit cocktail again.

“That’s…” Jungle Trek paused. “That’s kinda what started this.”

Celestia blinked slowly. “I am sorry, my little pony. Hopefully I did not make a big deal out of this.”

The Prince cringed, lowering his pith helmet over his eyes.

I absolutely did. Good job, Huitzy. Too hungover to even keep your name straight. Celestia plodded across the bedroom and pulled her bedroom door open by hoof. A mixed contingent of guards waited outside, led by Sergeant Nocturne. All of them bowed at the alicorn emerging from the door.

“Rise,” Celestia rasped.

They did so, only to bow again when Jungle Trek shuffled out. He had to roll up the sleeves of his borrowed tuxedo. The new Prince of Equestria laughed awkwardly in a high-pitched voice. “Rise?”

The four guards rose at his command.

Celestia took a deep breath. “Sergeant Nocturne, Private Swift Wing, Private Hard Point,” she greeted them individually. The red-velvet earth pony was last. “Corporal Long Spear.”

They bowed their heads.

“Your…discretion will be appreciated this morning,” she continued in a flat tone. It was still gravelly and harsh.

“Just like with Spear’s stupid tattoo,” Swift Wing muttered. “No worries, Princess.” The earth pony cringed and self-consciously swished his tail. Now that attention was called to it, Celestia noticed the discolored fur peeking out of his right foreleg’s greave. The magical paint glowed slightly.

It made her headache worse, so she looked to the walls. “Breakfast, my little ponies. I’m sure Kibbutz and Raven have…” she sighed, “…updates on the situation.”

“Of course, Princess,” Sergeant Nocturne said formally. He nodded to Jungle Trek. “Prince.”

Jungle Trek bit his lip. “Uh, by your leave?” The guards formed up into a square with a wide space in the middle. Celestia stepped into it as she always did.

Then she shuffled to the side and waved a wing for her husband. The square turned into more of a rectangle. Jungle Trek slowly clopped into the formation. He adjusted his pith helmet. Celestia’s tiara rested against her horn, off-kilter. She left it like that.

They began marching down the hallway. Usually, Celestia would have to balance her long-legged stride against her smaller guards so she did not overtake them, but today found herself staggering slow enough that her poor little ponies slowed down for her.

Old nag. One night of binge drinking, and ready for retirement.

“Princess?” Corporal Long Spear asked over his withers. The rectangle stopped.

“Nothing,” Celestia ground out with a voice that chewed gravel. She coughed into her hoof. “Nothing,” she repeated in a marginally improved whicker.

The guards shared a look. Celestia was too hungover to judge whether their expressions were worry, pity, or both. They resumed moving down the hallway. The grand hall to their private chambers was decorated with stained-glass windows to one side, then alternating, fawning arches of gold and silver in the rafters, and over a thousand years of gifts along the interior wall.

Celestia could not stare at the marbled floor; it was in a checkerboard pattern that made her eyes hurt. The windows merely let her cursed sun shine in her eyes. The roof also made her queasy. She settled for the long row of various trophies and gifts, pinching her eyes so she could barely see in a squint.

The alicorn reflexively laid her wing over Jungle Trek’s back to help balance herself. He was also along that side, using the larger alicorn to help block the sunlight. The earth pony tensed at the large white wing enveloping him.

Celestia retracted the wing. “Sorry, my little pony.” She stumbled on her left horseshoe.

“No,” Jungle Trek squeaked. “Uh, no, it’s fine.” He risked looking up at her with bloodshot eyes and cracked a grin. “I get it. It’s fine.” He shifted slightly closer to her.

“You are dealing with your liquor well,” Celestia commented in a slow whisper. At his implicit invitation, she leaned her wing atop his back again. It helped with her balance.

“Yeah, well, lots of, uh, mapmaking is drinking,” the Prince offered. “That’s why roads have so many unnecessary twists.”

Celestia snorted. She smelled raspberries from last night’s cocktails. The alicorn blinked heavily and looked at the interior wall. Her husband was fairing better with his hangover, having clearly imbibed less, but his pace matched hers. Jungle Trek had to keep rolling up the sleeves of his rented tuxedo.

The Prince of Equestria looked at the wall; his pith helmet rattled. “I’ve never been in the palace before, you know.”

“You married a Princess at your first gala then,” Celestia nickered without thinking. She would’ve stopped to punch herself, but that would have doubtlessly made her puke in the hall. Keep it interior, Huitzy. Don’t talk.

“I didn’t get a good look at anything last night,” Jungle Trek continued to her left. “You, uh, decided to carry me to the bedroom.” He missed a step and tittered. “With one wing.”

Sergeant Nocturne cleared his throat from in front of them. “Your sister has said it was most impressive.”

Celestia swallowed and kept walking. The hallway was mercifully clear of guards except her escort. She felt her headache recede marginally.

Then her husband began to talk.

“I dunno that pony,” he said idly to a bust of Starswirl the Bearded, minus the beard. “Dunno that one either,” he said to the next bust of a unicorn Celestia also failed to remember. Her husband began to make a running commentary of every artifact they passed, and Celestia’s headache marginally increased.

“I’m sorry,” Jungle Trek apologized. “I’m not good with dead air. I’m always looking for something to do in the jungle. Heh, it’s in the name, you know? Parents didn’t name me ‘Jungle Sit.’ I talk too much.”

Celestia did not reply. The walk had upset her stomach.

“You’ll tell me if it’s a problem?” Jungle Trek continued blithely.

Celestia said nothing.

“Huh. Dunno that pony either. I think the eyes are following us.”

The hallway should not be this long. Celestia became grateful for her husband’s prattle; it helped her assess her progress since she wasn’t focused on anything except trying not to vomit.

“That’s a cool tapestry.”

She failed. The alicorn leaned her long neck well past her husband and vomited. She had the presence of mind to push the rental-tux wearing stallion clear with her prodigious wing strength, and the guards winced and looked away.

Celestia hacked once after expelling over twenty cocktails and opened her watery eyes. She smelled raspberries. She winced at the tassels hanging in her eyesight, then slowly raised her head to stare at the tapestry she just defiled.

“I, uh, hope that wasn’t valuable,” Prince Jungle Trek commented. Long Spear pulled a rag from his greaves and trotted forward, but Sergeant Nocturne raised a wing and intercepted him.

Celestia’s horn flickered, but she cut the spell off at the pounding in her head. “It wasn’t,” she grunted to her husband. She twisted back to the guards. “Leave it. I’ll clean it myself later.”

“P-princess,” Sergeant Nocturne stuttered, “that tapestry is from Old Equestria.”

Celestia turned back to the fabric. A unicorn, pegasus, and earth pony joined hooves in a circle, facing outwards together while white lines swirled around them, representing the evil windigos. It was a simple design, but they made sure to capture the bright, smiling muzzles on each pony as they joined hooves. The entire picture was allegorical; one of the first depictions of Hearth’s Warming.

Celestia stared at it with watery magenta eyes, blinking in the sunlight.

Huitzilopochtli snorted. “What?”

A Tapestry of the Hearth's Warming

Huitzilopochtli snorted. “What?” She planted the spear butt into the frozen ground and stared at the messenger. He was barely more than a yearling, a burgundy colt whose heavy bronze armor did not fit around his frame.

“Um, Huiz…Hut…uh…” the earth pony stumbled over his tongue.

“Use my title, foal. You northerners cannot pronounce our names.”

“Warmaster,” the earth pony knelt. “The warbands are ready.”

“Good!” one of the chieftains shouted, a boisterous, pot-bellied, behemoth of a stallion. His war wife stood beside him, equally scarred and armored. “We get to kill some hornheads!”

The cheer was taken up by most of the tent, but not all. A dour-eyed stallion closest to Huitzilopochtli remained frowning, staring at the rough dirt mounds and frozen sticks. He pawed at one of the rocks marking the mage bands surrounding a tall dirt mountain.

“Are we sure those birds offered good reports?”

“The bird you speak of is in this tent,” Huitzilopochtli snarled. The white earth pony's braided pink mane and tail were flecked with bone rings and multi-colored feathers, taken from fallen wings and horns. None in the room had more than the tall mare, not even the chieftains thrice her age. “I trust her.”

“Why?”

“Because we paid them,” one of the chieftains snorted. “The Armada may claim honor is everything, but they like gold as much as a dragon.”

“I’ve heard the unicorns can make gold,” the dour-eyed stallion remarked. “Who's to say they didn’t pay her more?”

“They did,” a voice called out from the back of the tent. Wings raised above the heads of the earth pony crowd, and a slim pegasus in leather armor shoved herself forward. She eyed the hard earth ponies with severe cyan eyes. “And I took their gold.” She bared off-white teeth.

The crowd snorted. For a moment, the pegasus and earth pony stared at each other across the dirt map. The smaller blue mare had hacked her azure mane and tail short, and her wings had bronze knives fitted through them. They looked nothing alike…

…except their fur was marked with swirls around their legs and under their eyes. The patterns differed, but they had a tribal heritage, unlike every other pony in the tent. The blood-red markings on the pegasus’ muzzle shifted as she scrunched her snout.

“I took their money,” she repeated louder, “and I told them you were a bunch of milk-drinkers, less than ten thousand, and that you would attack from the south.”

“You sold out your honor for us?” the dour-eyed stallion questioned with clear doubt. He glanced down at the sticks marking the northern approach.

“They knew I signed a contract,” the pegasus scoffed in a heavy accent. “They expected me to break it. They have no honor.”

“I trust her,” the white earth pony snarled again. She thumped the spear into the ground. “If anypony has a problem with it, we settle this in the dueling ring. Here and now.”

Nopony in the tent met the white mare’s furious, berserker magenta eyes. “Warmaster,” the burly chieftain said with a deep nod. The others echoed him in a wave. As they left the tent, the open flaps blew snowflakes over the map scrawled into the ground.

Huitzilopochtli squinted through the opening, spying the lonely mountain in the distance, and the smoke from hundreds of fires billowing off the side. The so-called ‘Princess’ with her army was well-entrenched, eager to claim her mother’s title.

No matter how cold the wind blew.

The dour-eyed earth pony remained staring at the map. “They’ll have range on us. Their foul magics will tear through our warbands.”

Huitzilopochtli saw no point in soft words. “Yes.”

“We’ll lose hundreds before we make it to their first lines.”

“Thousands,” she corrected. “We have the numbers. They do not.”

The stallion sighed.

“The hornheads are starving on their horny spire,” the mare chuckled. “They can’t fight up close.” She shook her head, and her long braid jingled with bone rings. "Once we close the distance, we will slaughter them."

“Platinum will escape.”

“Of course, Dough,” the mare grunted. “She has foul magic. But she is only one mare. If the hornheads cannot stand against us in force, they will have to agree to a summit.” She spat atop the dirt mound representing the mountain beyond. “Your names are absurd.”

“At least you can pronounce ours,” the stallion said wryly. He spared a final glance at the pegasus mercenary standing across the map. “You trust her? Some tribal bond?”

“Yes.” With the tent clear, the white earth pony twirled her spear in her forelegs. The bronze spearpoint flashed through the air with several quick jabs. Her legs were crisscrossed with pink paint stripes to match her mane and tail. “Leave us. We have final negotiations.”

“We have no more gold.”

“We have food,” Huitzilopochtli snorted. “In this winter, that’s more valuable than gold. Even the hornheads know that. An earth pony will never wear a slave brand again as long as I draw breath.”

Dough looked back to the burn over his cutie mark. His eyes hardened, then he glared down at the map. “Most of the high horns are up on the mountain with their Princess. Especially their mages.”

“We’re not taking prisoners,” Huitzilopochtli declared.

“Good.” Dough left the tent.

The two ponies stared at each other over the dirt drawing. The earth pony was taller and visibly older than the pegasus. The blue mare preened a bronze wing, then tugged a leather strap taut with her teeth. The white mare rested her spear against her side.

“Coyolxauhqui,” the white mare finally said. “You trust the reports from all your warriors?” She spoke in her tribal tongue, one that the northerners beyond the tent could not speak. Any ears turned to the tent heard nothing they could understand.

“My war flock is loyal,” the pegasus snorted in the same language. “They obey the Commander’s orders. And mine.”

“All northerners?” the taller mare asked with a derisive grunt. “What do they call you?”

“Coya,” the pegasus returned with an equally derisive whicker.

“Huitzy,” the white mare offered. “The foals came down here and brought the snow with their strange tongue and their false gods.”

“Deny it all you want, you share part of their blood just as I,” Coya said flatly.

“Father—”

“Is dead,” Coya interrupted. “Crom take him.”

Huitzy’s magenta eyes narrowed and the mare growled. “Take it back.”

“No,” the smaller mare retorted. “Your mudpony mother may have embraced tribal life, but there’s no place for a half-breed in the Armada. I carved my way through the Cloudiseum to prove my worth to Hurricane.”

“Don’t appeal to my pity,” Huitzy mocked. “You piss on us from your clouds just like the hornheads on their mountains.”

“Don’t appeal to mine, Warmaster,” Coya said sarcastically. “How desperate is that herd to turn to you for help?”

Huitzy ground her teeth. “Desperate,” she acknowledged. “The snows will kill us all.”

“The cold struck us first,” Coya responded. Her eyes clouded. “Does your mother live?” she asked in a smaller voice.

“No. Yours?”

“No.”

The two mares were silent for a moment.

“You think we have another sister on that mountain?” Coya asked sardonically. “Father got around.”

“He did,” Huitzy laughed. “I’m sure he would have tried if that axe hadn’t taken him.”

Coya let a small smile slip through her grim warpaint. “Do any know?”

"Dough’s mate,” Huitzy responded. “Smart Cookie. Stupid name, but a clever mare. Any of yours?”

“Pansy. As cowardly as her name. She helps with the letters.”

“Reading?” the earth pony snorted. “By Crom, you have turned into a northerner.”

“If father wanted to raise me in our ways, he would’ve stopped my mother from returning to the Armada,” Coya responded. Her eyes sharpened. “He clearly loved one daughter more: the one that took after him.”

Huitzilopochtli opened her mouth with bared teeth, then a gust of wind blew through the partially opened flap. Both mares shivered. She closed her mouth and thought about her words. “Father loved you. He missed you dearly.”

Coya looked away. “Why did you tell them we were paid? Are you ashamed?”

“No,” Huitzy said in an uncharacteristically kind voice. “But some of the chieftains will claim I can’t be trusted with a pegasus blood-sister. I can’t kill them all in the dueling ring.”

“How’d you even convince Hurricane to agree to this?” Coya whickered. "He even had an augury before I flew here."

“Same way father charmed your mother, I’d imagine,” Huitzy grinned. “We fought. Then we fucked.” She struck a pose, showing off her coiled muscles. “You lithe birds can’t resist mudponies.”

Coya rolled her eyes. “He always thinks with his cock.”

Huitzy burst out laughing. Her braying snort filled the tent. Coya suppressed a smirk until the sound faded into the howling wind outside.

Huitzilopochtli stared across the map at her last family. “We will lose thousands,” she admitted. “The approach has some cover, but…”

“But what?”

“Fog would help,” Huitzy said quietly. “Mist. Or snow.”

Coya pulled in a breath through her nose. “You want me to risk my war flock? Hurricane did not agree to that, and no amount of earth pony sex will soothe that rage.”

The earth pony returned to the map. “I understand.”

Coyolxauhqui flapped her wings. She was quiet for a moment. “If we present a united front against Platinum, she will have to give up her dream of unicorn dominance. She wants you as slaves to secure her food. If she has the food, she has us.”

Huitzy looked back up at her sister.

“We have to fight together,” Coya declared. “No matter what any other says. My war flock will follow wherever I lead it. How about your warbands?”

“I’ve smashed enough skulls,” the earth pony chuckled.

“You’ll get mist,” Coya promised. She began to walk to the tent flap. “Who knows? We might even get peace from this.”

“You want peace?” the earth pony asked with obvious confusion on her muzzle. “That goes against everything the Armada flies for.”

“I want a world where my mother was not compelled to leave my father,” Coya whispered. She reached the tent flap and squinted into the snowfall.

“Wait!” Huitzy called.

“It’s bad luck to try to pray to Crom before a battle,” Coya chided. “He has no time for prayers. Invites weakness.”

“Sister.”

Coyolxauhqui turned around with soft eyes. Her wings twitched. Huitzilopochtli slammed her spear into the ground, then approached her sister unarmed. She was a head taller than her, and several years older, but both sets of eyes were shared a weariness.

Huitzy stopped a hoof away. “I will lead the attack. I may fall.”

Coya nodded.

“Should I survive,” Huitzy declared, “I will name you my blood-sister before the clans, win or lose.” Her muzzle turned pink. “Should you wish it,” she amended.

“Don’t ruin your standing for me,” Coya sighed.

“You are my sister,” Huitzilopochtli said severely. “We are all that is left of our family. If we fight together today, we are blood-bound. Forever.”

Coya blinked, and her lips parted in a brittle smile. “You swear it?”

“I swear it.”

"Swear what, Princess?" Sergeant Nocturne asked.

Helia and the Flank that Launched a Thousand Ships

"Swear what, Princess?" Sergeant Nocturne asked. The Night Guard had advanced as close as he dared to the ruined tapestry, muzzle wrinkling in disgust despite his professionalism. Long Spear eyed the frills at the bottom with a rag in hoof, then seemingly declared it as a lost cause and retreated.

“I…” Celestia swallowed. “I swear I will clean it myself. After breakfast.” Her horn glowed and she folded the soiled, ancient tapestry into a ball, wrenching it from the wall. Sergeant Nocturne looked horrified at the further desecration of an ancient artifact.

Celestia’s horn felt like a spike ran through it. She dropped the ball with a wince, then raised a foreleg and placed it upon the tapestry. The mare began to use one of Equestria's earliest depictions of Hearth's Warming as a cleaning rag to wipe up the remainders of her strawberry cocktails.

Her husband and escort looked on in varying levels of shock.

“T-that’s a priceless—” Swift Wing started.

“Eh,” Jungle Trek waved a hoof. “It’ll wash out.”

Celestia made sure the unicorn meant to represent Platinum got an extra swipe on the floor. She grimaced, this time in mild satisfaction. Hornhead. I still remember the look on your muzzle—

“Princess?” Sergeant Nocturne cleared his throat.

Celestia stumbled back and wiped her golden horseshoe on the tapestry one final time. “I’ll clean it later,” she rasped as imperiously and regally as she could. Considering her escort just watched her vomit up enough alcohol to kill an earth pony, none felt comfortable judging just how regal she was.

Celestia backed away, wriggling tail facing her cursed sun filtering through the windows. She breathed deeply. The headache and hornache remained, but she actually felt better. Her stomach was only a tempest instead of a maelstrom.

Prince Jungle Trek shuffled back, pausing to roll up his sleeves again. Celestia leaned her wing atop his back without any warning, then tapped his pith helmet with a misaligned feather. “The castle will pay for your rental,” she said aloud.

“Great!” Prince Jungle Trek nickered happily. “Wow, that’s a weight off my withers! Metaphorically speaking, because your wing is still on my withers. N-not that that’s a problem!”

Celestia breathed in through her nose. She started forward again on sluggish hooves, squinting with watery eyes. Sergeant Nocturne and Corporal Long Spear shared a nervous look, then Long Spear walked backwards ahead of them, mulberry eyes on the Princess’ hooves.

Ah, the earth pony is on support in case the drunken sot falls over, Celestia reckoned. She recognized the tactic from when her guards escorted drunken dignitaries or ambassadors back to their suites. Or Blueblood whenever somepony spiked his wine.

“That’s a lot of valuable stuff just sitting on pedestals in here,” Prince Jungle Trek said under her wing. “Are there, uh, spells or something on them?”

“Most, my Prince,” Swift Wing said behind them. “Many of these artifacts predate the Celestial Era—uh, that is, your wife’s reign.” Her voice took the quality of a tour guide. “I’ll be happy to explain some of them if you wish, my Prince.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose.”

“We live to serve, my Prince.”

Celestia’s long neck creaked as she turned a watery, baleful eye back to the guard. Swift Wing was too short and too distracted to catch the glare; she was scanning the artifacts along the wall. “That one is a sculpture of Archmage Firelance, the legendary first unicorn to raise the sun.”

Celestia bit her tongue. Her headache increased. She shuffled down the hallway with the grace of a foal learning how to walk. Despite her husband’s prattle and questions over his shoulder, he moved just as stiffly under her wing.

A Day Guard came the opposite way, heading from the kitchens with a stack of newspapers balanced on outstretched wings. The moment he saw the royal couple in the hallway, the stallion bowed deep and let the newspapers fall to the floor.

“Your Highnesses!” he trilled out.

Celestia and Jungle Trek continued to shuffle down the hallway. The Prince looked up at his wife, then back to the bowing guard. He remained bowing only three hooves from the kitchen entrance.

Which was at the very, very far end of the hallway.

“Yo!” Jungle Trek called out. “Uh, rise my dude!” He cast an eye up the Celestia. “Is it okay if I’m informal?”

The alicorn did not respond. There was a strange grinding noise from her tense jaw. The distant dot stood up and scooped up the newspapers, trotting at a quick canter to meet the royals. The bobbing motion of his wings made Celestia queasy again, so she looked to the wall. Jungle Trek turned with her.

“Oh, that’s the display case of Odessey’s Adventures,” Swift Wing provided. Celestia recalled that she was a part-time tour guide, and decided that Crom was making this morning as painful as possible. “O-of course, you know t-that, Princess," the mare continued after finally catching the alicorn's severe expression. "Would you like to tell your husband?”

Celestia breathed in. Swift Wing took her heavy exhale as permission to keep talking. “It’s not the original original, but the epic poem by Homeward Bound is one of the classics! The fall of the legendary city of Trot due to the pride of Queen Helia is one of the most important formative stories of Equestrian literature.”

Jungle Trek eyed the folded-up scroll in the display case. The parchment was weathered and yellow, resting on a delicate stand. The glass was smudged. “Never read it.”

Celestia focused on the very faint imprint of green lipstick on the back of the display case. It had been cleaned off years ago, but changeling slime was hard to remove. Her teeth ground, but the whinny of shock from her tour-guard masked it.

Swift Wing gasped. “I thought Odyssey’s misadventure would have been required reading in the Cartographer’s Society! Mapmaking as an art came from the legend!”

“W-well,” Jungle Trek swallowed, “I heard there’s a movie?”

Swift Wing snorted in disgust. “Sapphire Shores can’t act. She certainly can’t play Queen Helia. Doesn’t have the flank.”

Despite herself, Celestia looked back to her flank. Her suns stared back, larger than she remembered them being. The bright, cheery beams mocked her with their smug aura.

Jungle Trek hummed at the scroll. He squinted. “Oh, I think I have heard of this one…”

It’s only the most famous epic poem in ponykind’s history, Celestia snorted to herself. Impressively, she kept it internal.

“Wasn’t Helia the Flank that Launched a Thousand Ships or something?”

“I will not be known as the Flank that Launched a Thousand Ships,” Queen Helia snorted.

Odyssey's Adventure, Original Copy

“I will not be known as the Flank that Launched a Thousand Ships,” Queen Helia snorted. She slammed her spear into the ground with a wing, shaking the remaining green ichor off the spearhead. The iron point was well-used, and well-dented. “King Prance was a foal.”

“The shapeshifter was clever,” Odyssey said beside his Queen. The earth pony’s armor was naught but plain brown leather for mobility, but his azure eyes betrayed a deep cunning. “Had her scheme worked, her brood would have had enough strength to challenge Equestria.”

“I swore to never marry,” Helia grumbled. “And his son just happens to capture my heart and take me home?”

Odyssey rolled his eyes. “The flank certainly helped.” From anypony other than him, the jest would have been suicide, but Helia merely snapped her tail at him. He laughed.

“My flank isn’t even that big,” Helia spat. Her glob of spittle landed on one of the dead bug-like shapeshifters littering the field beyond the walls of Trot. The city itself burned, green ichor and fallen black spires blazing away under a starry sky.

Queen Helia stared at her carnage. She smiled under her helmet, split lip bleeding down her fur. "A pathetic excuse for a swarm. My chariot is painted green with the blood of her endless brood."

“The Brood-Queen escaped,” Odyssey rebuked his Queen.

“She leaves with more holes than she came with,” Helia dismissed. “Her strength is broken. It will take her untold centuries to recover her swarm, if she even lives. I aimed for that distant volcano.” The alicorn grabbed the spear with her right wing and held it against her barrel. She gave a few jabs in the air. “Can you believe she didn’t armor her hock?”

“I cannot believe you fell for that,” Odyssey retorted. His hoof pointed back to the beach. Helia knew what her best general and occasional lover pointed at, and yet still turned to glare with an unqueenly wince.

The large Wooden Pony lay smoldering in the evening’s tide, next to the boats from her army. It was carved in her likeness, but the flank was still too big. Helia glanced at her own flank, exposed by her barded iron armor. Her bloody suns laid atop corded, lean muscle: a warrior’s body. “I will not fall for that trick again,” Helia boasted and recovered her bravado. “The Brood-Queen is clever, as you said, but her strength is spent.”

“At the expense of Trot,” Odyssey pointed out. “And I hear rumors from beyond the ocean. Selene schemes in her night—”

“My sister is an able regent!” Helia barked down at the earth pony with sudden venom. “The so-called nobles chafe under laws, not an iron hoof! You know better than to repeat those lies!”

Odyssey dipped his head with flat ears. “Equestria awaits the return of its Queen.”

Helia turned to the group emerging from the shattered gates of the greatest trade city from across the ocean. “We will return with more than we set out with,” she said softly. “Aneighus! Come, battle-born friend!”

The unicorn at the head of the herd bowed before Queen Helia. His followers mirrored his submission. “The Brood-Queen has defiled the city and the land for too long," he said in a raspy voice. His own gaudy gold armor was stained green with the blood of a hundred shapeshifters. "We cannot remain.”

“The royal line is gone,” Helia said. “I accept your offer. Roam no longer. You have a home in Equestria, far from these slavers.” Her voice deepened into a proper growl for the last word. It sounded ridiculous for a pony to growl, but the tall winged and horned pony exuded command and menace.

“I ask a last boon,” Aneighus pleaded. “We have salted the earth, but the city is still tainted. I will not allow our home to stand as a testament to the so-called Queen Chrysalis.”

Helia grinned with bloody teeth. Her eyes lit up. “Trot will be no more,” she swore. “Gather your ponies to the boats.” The alicorn’s horn glowed, flickering with a deep golden glow. Her spellwork was awful, all force with little direction, but force was all she often needed.

The remnants of Trot and Helia’s army returned to the beach, leaving their Warrior Queen standing amongst the dead and siegeworks of a years-long struggle. The ponies of Trot were free from their cocoons and their slavery, but the scar would remain forevermore. The land itself had been twisted by the insectoid swarm with some sickly, foul magic.

Odyssey left last, pausing to nuzzle the alicorn’s side. She nodded back, eyes blazing with fire. The point of her spear reflected the flames from her horn as she arced her horn to her sister’s stars and unleashed the spell.

Night became day for a brief moment, then a deluge of fire descended upon Trot. The city was erased in the blink of an eye, land scorched clean of the ooze and slime that defiled it. Nothing remained as the alicorn’s horn dimmed.

Helia surveyed a blasted, salted land. Even the bodies were blasted into ash, and what remained belonged to the scavengers. The thing that called itself Chrysalis may have escaped, but it escaped wounded and alone.

Helia’s mane and tail still swayed in the non-existent wind. She extracted her helmet from her horn and grimaced backwards at her floating tail. The pink braid was discolored with green and other bright colors. The hairs struggle to escape her weave.

“Stop that,” Helia growled.

Her tail did not obey. Her mane wriggled as well, now free from her helmet.

“Bah!” the mare scoffed. “The Flank that Launched a Thousand Ships…”

She marched back to the beachhead. Most of the army and refugees had already packed, merely waiting for the tide to set out. Even after almost a century, Helia still preferred to walk rather than fly. It let her know her ponies and walk among them. The army, tired and exhausted and eager to see home, still bowed and dipped their heads.

Odyssey waited on the prow of his ship. The sail picked up no wind. His sentries still waited with weapons ready, though all bowed to their Queen and her bloody iron armor.

“I’ll raise the sun early,” Helia declared. “As soon as everypony is prepared.”

“Won’t Selene be upset?” Odyssey raised a brow.

“I’ll be home sooner,” Helia shrugged a wing. Her spear was slung across her back. “We’ll see if there’s any truth to the stories. I suspect she's pulling her wavy mane out dealing with the hornheads.”

"You are a hornhead," Odyssey said dryly.

"Not by choice," Helia snorted. "Damn tree."

Her companion hummed and stared at the seaward sky.

“What?” Helia asked.

“A pink sky means storms,” Odyssey lifted a hoof and gestured to the horizon. “Bad weather across the ocean.”

“We have pegasi,” Helia retorted. “How long could it possibly take?”

"...Yes," Celestia said after a moment. "She was."

Solene's Crippling Alektorophobia

"...Yes," Celestia said after a moment. "She was." The mare turned away from the display case and waited for the courier to trot up to them. She imagined her flank jiggling. Or perhaps she did not imagine it and her heavy suns actually did jiggle.

Cursed cake, Celestia snorted to herself. Should've just kept spiking my tea with moonshine... She glared to the right and inadvertently received a shaft of sunlight directly into her bloodshot eyes. She shifted her glare downwards.

The pegasus guard with the newspapers flinched and dropped into a heavy bow, groveling at her hooves. The papers fell to the floor again. “Forgive me, Princess.”

Celestia took a deep breath and fought past the hornache to recall the pony’s name. Why did I ever agree to that enchantment that made them all look the same? “Sergeant Arrowhead?” the Princess guessed.

The pony nodded from the hallway floor.

Good job, Huitzy. Senile old nag recalled something right. Celestia tried to shift her grimace to something passably friendly. “Rise,” she forced out.

The sergeant did so slowly, not meeting the Princess’ eyes. Most ponies did not actually look Celestia in the eye when standing; it was awkward to crane their necks high enough to stare up at her muzzle. The more polite ponies stared at the jewels in her golden carcanet; the less polite stared at the dinner-plate sized suns on her flank if they could.

Oh, that’s right. Celestia suddenly remembered why the guards looked alike through the hornache. The old orgies. She kept her lips tight to stop that information slipping through. Most guards believed it helped protect their identities like they were heroes in Spike’s comic books.

“P-princess,” Arrowhead stuttered, “forgive the intrusion, but the perimeter staff were concerned. The press core has assembled outside the front gate.”

“The what?” Celestia asked with a sigh.

“Every reporter in the city has assembled into a militia,” Sergeant Nocturne explained, trotting up beside the Day Guard. “They’re besieging the castle, Princess.” The bat-winged pegasus stood next to the normal pegasus, lifting up a newspaper with bared fangs.

“Equestria Daily is building a ram,” Arrowhead replied.

Celestia did not dignify that with a response.

“Several guards have been blinded by the continuous camera flashes,” Nocturne continued. “They want to see the new royal couple.” He considered his words. “Well, it’s more of a demand.”

Prince Jungle Trek whistled. “Am I popular?”

“Your approval rating is currently at 87, my Prince,” Arrowhead reported dutifully.

Celestia’s muzzle twitched. “Show me.” Nocturne turned the newspaper around with a nervous whicker. He held it up as a shield.

The Canterlot Herald had gotten a photograph of the wedding. In fact, it appeared that Celestia and her husband had posed for a photograph just after the ceremony. Both ponies had vacant eyes and slow smiles, clearly sauced out of their minds.

Jungle Trek at least had a far-eyed expression of nervous terror, seeing through the camera to the fourth dimension. Celestia assessed her past gaze as a drunken leer; it wasn’t even a particularly good drunken leer, and the Princess had hunched down to be in the same photo as her husband.

Sergeant Nocturne cleared his throat. “Ah, the Moonspeaker’s daughter took the photo. The Canterlot Herald won the bidding war early this morning. Princess Luna has informed the Night Guard the family has already fled to Las Pegasus with several hundred thousand bits.”

“Fled?” Jungle Trek asked nervously. “I-I mean, was it illegal or something to marry—”

“No,” Nocturne shook his head, “but Thestrals have developed a keen sense of danger over the years.”

Swift Swing stared out one of the windows. “Looks like a couple of the journos teamed up and are building a siege tower to bypass the front gate,” she commented.

The alicorn with the wedding dress in the photo had wrapped her wing possessively around the earth pony next to her. In the hallway, Celestia wrapped her wing around Jungle Trek for balance as she tried to read the headline.

Forbidden Love! The Princess Marries Commoner-

“I hate those ponies,” Celestia said aloud before she could stop herself.

Prince Jungle Trek looked over the paper. “Seems positive,” he said vaguely with a hoof twirl.

“My Prince, they are calling you ‘Star Trek’ and refer to you as a unicorn.”

The earth pony waved a hoof. “It’s, uh, fine.”

“Summarize the situation,” Celestia requested with a dry rasp.

“The proletariat papers applaud the Princess marrying an underprivileged earth pony,” Arrowhead flipped through his stack of papers. “The noble-aligned papers think the pith helmet is hiding a horn. The republicans think it’s a popularity play to shore up your falling approval rating.”

Jungle Trek lifted his pith helmet and showed off his wavy brown mane. “No horn,” he chuckled uneasily. "That's easy to disprove."

"So you'd think," Celestia sighed.

Arrowhead bit his lip. “Raven and Kibbutz are waiting on an official comment, but—"

“I’m running late,” Celestia said for him. “It’s a long hallway and I’m hungover.”

Everypony recoiled in shock.

Celestia squinted at them. Her mane and tail wriggled limply, like worms caught on a fishhook. The alicorn attempted to remember the last time her staff caught her doing something inappropriate. Cake binge? Or that modeling?

The Princess sighed. “Continue, my little ponies. I’ll give a statement—”

A door to one of the ambassadorial suites abruptly burst open ahead of the group. Nocturne and Arrowhead spun around with raised wings, only to see a maid wrestling with a frumpy pillowcase. They relaxed. The maid spied the Princess and reflexively bowed, releasing the pillowcase. There was a muffled squawk.

The chicken burst free from its makeshift confinement and locked eyes with Celestia.

She froze. Her queasy stomach hardened into ice in an instant, but the temperature in the hallway rose by two digits in the time it took to blink. Her headache intensified into an inferno, and Celestia cut the fireball off before it could even form above her horn.

The chicken beelined away from the maid, flailing down the hallway with panicked clucking. The sound reverberated in the alicorn’s skull and her eyes dilated. Her mane and tail whipped about in a sudden frenzy.

Jungle Trek squeaked as Celestia’s wing tightened around him.

The foul beast ran straight for the group.

“I’m sorry!” the maid screamed. “Somepony brought it in from the menagerie!”

“There aren’t any chickens in the menagerie!” Long Spear said. The earth pony sat on his flank and held out his forelegs, attempting to catch the chicken like a goalie.

Celestia saw the beady eyes narrow in slow-motion. The chicken tensed and flapped its wings, landing atop the earth pony’s helmet as his forelegs caught empty air. The chicken was nearly eye-level with the alicorn, perched atop the helmet.

It clucked.

Celestia screamed and flung her husband at the fowl. Prince Jungle Trek bowled into Corporal Long Spear in a twisting mass of earth pony hooves. Pith helmet and guard helmet rolled away in opposite directions. The alicorn reared up in an instinctive pose to appear larger, tossing her head wildly. Her tiara went flying with a shattering of glass.

The chicken saw the chance to escape and took it. It launched itself just before the collision, flapping up towards the alicorn’s muzzle. Celestia’s scream cut off with a choke.

Her treacherous mane, limp and wriggling, betrayed her. The poultry was caught in the tangle of wild hairs that whipped ahead of her muzzle from behind. The chicken flailed, tugging on her scalp. The beak and sharp, rending talons were within reach of her neck and major arteries. Celestia felt a ratty feather trace itself across her throat.

The alicorn, hungover and off-balance, teetered on her hind legs and waved her forelegs about in blind terror. Her remaining guards attempted to steady the Princess, but it was all for naught. The chicken’s beak swung up, peaking through the wavy rainbow locks.

It clucked again. Princess Celestia was not Fluttershy, but she imagined what it was saying: "The hour is nigh."

Celestia tripped over her own tail and crashed backwards. She landed on something sharp and something hard, barely registering a wheeze from behind her. She rolled off the shapes, hyperventilating and punching wildly at her own mane. A few moments later, she realized the dry, rattling wail filling the hallway was coming from her throat.

“Getitoff getitoff getitoff getitoff getitoff getitoff!”

Celestia felt something in her horn give just before something else hit the chicken tangled in her mane. There was a single desperate squawk, then the hallway was silent except for her own breathing. Celestia rolled to her hooves and whipped her head around violently, finally dislodging the foul fowl and sending it careening into the wall with a splat of feathers.

She would have vomited if anything had been left in her stomach. The Princess dry-heaved and blinked watery eyes. Pink framed her vision and her eyes were blurry.

“Princess!” Sergeant Nocturne shouted.

At the same time, Arrowhead whinnied, “Prince!”

Celestia brushed her hoof against her suddenly limp and cooperative hair, brushing it away from her horn to see. She first noticed she had lost her horseshoe, and her tiara had shattered an empty display case from her panicked rear. The rack inside was empty except for her upside-down crown.

Hard Point groaned behind her and was pulled to his hooves by Swift Wing. The two guards’ armor was crumpled, and it took Celestia a moment to connect the bruising on her heavy suns to the dents in their armor as she fell atop them. Celestia’s eyes stopped on her long pink tail. It was entirely pink, and entirely normal. She blinked, then swished it across the floor.

“Princess?” Sergeant Nocturne asked in front of her. Celestia turned her head back and registered the weight of her mane for the first time in decades. She brushed her foreleg forward and stared at the pink locks. They were full of split-ends and dirty, but hung limply like any other mane.

I burned myself out like a foal, Celestia realized. She giggled. Or rather, she attempted to giggle, but her throat was dry and it came out as a throaty chuckle that made Nocturne’s ears pin back.

Jungle Trek staggered back to his hooves, helped up by Arrowhead. Celestia looked over Nocturne’s wings. “Are you all right, husband?” the alicorn asked in a raspy whicker. “Sorry about that.”

Jungle Trek wheezed.

“P-princess?” Nocturne asked for the third time.

Celestia stood up with a low groan. Her entire body hurt now, and it made the pain from her headache paradoxically less meaningful. She shook out her legs. “I am…” the mare paused, searching for the poultry.

The chicken was limp and dead next to the display case.

“I’m fine, Sergeant.”

An earth pony in maid frills rushed up the group, dancing on her hooves. “Oh, Sweet Celestia! I-I mean, C-Celestia! Uh, P-princess!” The mare breathed rapidly and her pink fur began to turn purple.

“Slow down,” Celestia coughed.

It took the mare several tries to obey. She sagged to her hooves. “I-I am so sorry. I’ve been trying to catch her all morning a-and she j-just slipped away!”

“It’s not from the gardens,” Nocturne rubbed his muzzle with a hoof. “Did one of the guests bring a chicken?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Celestia sighed. She shuddered at the carcass.

“Please, forgive me, Princess,” Long Spear said uneasily. He lowed a broken staff to the floor and bowed properly. The earth pony’s ears pinned back. “I acted rashly.”

“You ignored the Prince and nearly stabbed the Princess!” Arrowhead neighed. Prince Jungle Trek inspected his pith helmet and rented tuxedo for damage. Amazingly, he only needed to reroll his sleeves after being flung by an alicorn.

Celestia grimaced, thinking of the dusty gym room she hadn’t been in for a decade. She eyed the broken staff, recognizing the aged, ashen bark. Her frown twisted into a rueful grin. “Did you pry it out of the display case?”

“It, uh, fell and rolled out when your tiara…” Long Spear trailed off.

Celestia limped over and scooped the stave up with a wing. She chucked it back into the glass shards, then levitated her tiara out slowly and shook it before placing it back under her horn. “It was already broken,” she dismissed, “and more appropriate than you know.”

“The Staff of Wabbajack,” Swift Wing said from behind the alicorn. “This madness is certainly worthy of Discord.”

“He wouldn’t dare put a chicken near me,” Celestia muttered. She turned a narrowed eye to Arrowhead. “Find out who let a chicken into the castle. They are banned for life.”

“I…” Arrowhead hesitated. He bowed. “As you command, Princess.”

“Princess, your mane,” Nocturne stated. He waved a bat wing at the hair trailing on the floor. Even while the alicorn stood at her tallest, her tail pooled around her rear hooves, and the ends of her mane dragged on the ground.

"It does that sometimes," Celestia grunted.

"I-it does?" Swift Wing whispered uncertainly behind the alicorn.

Prince Jungle Trek moved the rim of his helmet over his eyes. “Somehow this feels inappropriate.” The stallions in the group seemingly concurred and looked away. Long Spear remained bowed on the floor, eyes averted and sad.

Celestia’s horn throbbed and her left wing was stiff from the fall, so the alicorn wrapped her mane around her forelegs and started to weave it based off muscle memory. She found herself humming an old song.

It helped with the headache.

After a minute and a half, Celestia flung her braided mane back over her back. She leaned around and used her horn to weave her tail. When it was done, she had a lengthy, but manageable pink mane and tail.

They still look ratty and full of split-ends. Celestia still grinned at them.

“Woah,” Swift Wing whickered. “That was fast.”

“I’m out of practice,” Celestia returned. “I used to be able to do this—” Her jaw snapped shut before she could finish. On the battlefield to weave in a new ring or feather. “I used to go much faster,” she clarified vaguely after swallowing.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” Long Spear said again from the ground.

“For what, my little pony?” Celestia asked with a sigh. “You defended me.”

“I…” Long Spear’s muzzle scrunched, “I k-killed the chicken, Princess. I d-didn’t mean to hit it that hard.”

Celestia looked back to the body slumped beside the display case. Huh. Thought I killed it. Can’t even manage to kill a chicken myself, can I? Good job, Huitzy.

Arrowhead stepped forward. “Princess, Corporal Long Spear shall be reprimanded for excessive force—"

Celestia snorted. “Stand up. You saved your Princess from a foul fowl.”

Sergeant Nocturne frowned. “Princess Celestia, he still…killed…it.”

Huitzy chuckled again and her horn glowed. The limp carcass of the chicken was tossed to the maid’s hooves. The mare froze with wide eyes. “A murder most fowl,” Huitzy laughed. “Have the kitchens turn it into soup.” She glanced around at the group.

The hallway was silent with wide eyes.

Princess Celestia realized she just tossed a corpse at one of her maids. She sucked in a breath. For a moment, the alicorn battled with her hangover’s inclination to roll her eyes and trudge onward.

“Bury the chicken in the garden,” Celestia rephrased. “Record a minor infraction for excessive force,” she said to Arrowhead. The pegasus nodded in shock, then took several of the newspapers and gently wrapped up the corpse, bearing it between his wings like a pallbearer. He departed for a side door.

The maid was ramrod stiff, staring into space. She was as still as a statue, and it took Celestia squinting at her to tell she was still breathing. “Swift Wing and Hardpoint,” Celestia said over her shoulder. She tossed her heavy braid to the right side of her muzzle, letting it fall over her eye and block out the sunlight from the windows. “Please, escort yourselves and Miss Rainwater to the infirmary.”

“A-as you command, Princess,” Swift Wing mumbled. The two ponies stood very still.

Prince Jungle Trek chuckled and broke the silence. “Hay, I get it! ‘Foul’ and ‘Fowl!’ That’s funny!”

Nopony else laughed. Jungle Trek’s slight smile faded. “I thought guards had to laugh at a noble’s awful jokes? Is that not a rule?” He tapped on his pith helmet. "Can I make that a rule?" The earth pony considered it. "Probably shouldn't."

Celestia limped forward, off-balance due to her missing horseshoe. She looked around for a moment, then bared her teeth at finding it lodged into the brick. She pried it free and shoved it back on with a blazing horn, ignoring the dust and slight dent.

Prince Jungle Trek sidled up next to her. “Geez. I knew during the party the guards had no sense of humor, but this is ridiculous.” Sergeant Nocturne and Corporal Long Spear shared a dour, uncertain look, then trotted ahead of them.

There was a squealing sound of hooves on tile as Swift Wing and Hard Point began to physically push the maid in the other direction. Her legs had entirely locked up. Celestia stared down at the haggard earth pony beside her. Out of all of them, he had known her for less than 48 hours, but was the most comfortable after that display. Explorer. He’s seen death in the jungle. “It was a joke in poor taste,” she admonished.

Her husband’s ears pinned back.

“Like that chicken soup would have been,” Celestia muttered out of the side of her muzzle. Neither escorting guard heard her. Jungle Trek snorted and grinned.

Celestia’s smiled, then it faded from her muzzle. She glanced back at the display case and broken staff one last time. How appropriate. The staff was missing the headpiece and glowing gem. It looked like nothing more than a hunk of vaguely magical wood. Celestia liked it that way; most ponies assumed it was some old unicorn's staff and left it at that. The connection to Discord was only made public after his breakout, and even then the information was sparse.

For a good reason.

“I hate chickens!” Solene roared over the endless clucking.

The Staff of Wabbajack

“I hate chickens!” Solene roared over the endless clucking. Her spear finally fell from her hooves, too slick with blood and weighed down by the bodies of two dozen of the feathered fiends. Solene still punched at them while her horn blazed, but the alicorn’s fur was soaked in blood and off-white feathers.

More of her own blood and feathers stuck to her for every minute that passed.

The feathered poultry horde still tumbled down into the shattered courtyard. The old bastion atop Mount Canterhorn had been long abandoned, and it was the perfect hideaway for errant bands of evildoers. It was close to Everfree and the Castle of the Two Sisters, and groups could menace the northern trade routes.

Solene liked clearing it out every three years or so. It was good exercise and kept her close to court. When she heard a so-called ‘Poultrymancer’ had claimed the mountain as his own and chased away a merchant with a dozen chickens, the alicorn figured she’d be back in time for dinner and didn’t even bother to bring her armor.

“Fly! Fly, my foul feathered fiends!”

Solene reflected on her lack of forethought.

More savage clucking chickens fell from the void in reality above the courtyard. The stallion on the battlements cackled and wrung the ashen staff in his hooves. The giant purple gem atop the staff flashed erratically, making his crossed-eyes spin. The stallion was clearly Discord-Touched, driven mad by the artifact left behind after the Mad God's defeat.

“Tear her apart!” the earth pony cackled. “Prove your strength!”

Solene bit the head off one of the chickens trying to claw out her eyes and gagged at the taste. She spat the head out and nailed another chicken soaring towards her muzzle. Her heavy hooves crushed one each time she punched or stomped, but dozens more clung to her legs and pecked at her flesh. Even more scurried up her back or tangled themselves in her mane or tail.

The stone courtyard had already blackened from the heat of her fireballs, but the alicorn was beginning to exhaust herself. There was an overwhelming smell of fried chicken, and the ground was no longer visible under the bodies. She stood on a foundation of dead fowl.

One alicorn versus a chicken was not even a contest.

One alicorn versus a hundred chickens was not even worth mentioning.

One alicorn versus a thousand chickens was absurd, but manageable.

One alicorn versus ten thousand constantly replenishing chickens was a joke from Chancellor Puddinghead. Solene hated that joke when Puddinghead told it, and she suspected the Poultrymancer was the mare’s descendant. He had the same shrill laugh.

“I will kill—” her roar was cut off as she finally slipped under the feathered tide. Chickens clawed and scratched at her muzzle. The alicorn swung against them, but her limbs were already weighed down. She sank deeper into the mass.

“Yes!” the Poultrymancer cried out. “Yes! First the Queen, then Equestria! All will bow to the power of chickenmancy!”

Solene’s hooves squelched against the carcasses as the living chickens weighed her down. Her breath was constricted, and the wings and talons pricked at her. She couldn’t escape them; even as her horn flared and burned away a dozen, two dozen more fell into the gap and crushed her down.

She couldn’t concentrate on her spellwork with them attempting to pluck out her eyes. And the Poultrymancer’s shrill laugh was blocked out by her ears as the chickens pecked at them. She couldn’t open her mouth to breathe as they pulled on her lips. The alicorn’s limbs began to slow as she ran out of breath.

Solene, Queen of the Day, realized she was going to die to chickens.

The Poultrymancer was so engrossed in his chicken pit he missed how his shadow stretched oddly behind him. Two tendrils of pure darkness rose up, then stabbed forward and pierced his back. The stallion spat blood mid-cackle and dropped the staff. He was pulled backwards, disappearing into a new void of pure darkness, falling into his own distorted shadow.

His body was flung back out a moment later, slashed to ribbons. The shadow warped and stretched, and a nimble blue alicorn solidified where there was naught but pure darkness. Her starry mane and tail waved under a pitch-black cloak. The mare turned severe eyes down at the clucking mass. She clicked her tongue, then brought a silver-shod hoof down on the Staff of Wabbajack, shattering the gem. The void above the battlements vanished with the sound of a fart.

The mare rolled her eyes. Wings fluttered under her cloak, and the hood glowed as she tugged it down. The writhing mass of chickens remained in the courtyard, clucking obscenely. The mare stood where the Poultrymancer stood, then shrugged up her cloak and sheathed her twin daggers under her wings.

A wave of ice erupted from her horn and froze the first layer of chickens solid. The cold seeped downwards, killing the chickens layer by layer. The ice was cold enough to kill nearly anything.

The mare wrinkled her nose at the smell of fried chicken. She gagged and held her cloak up over her muzzle. The alicorn waited with a tapping hoof.

The courtyard was still.

The mare sighed and extended her wings, preparing to flap down.

A white, bloody hoof punched through a frozen chicken on the top layer.

“Most good fortune,” the dark alicorn announced. “I was preparing to fetch thee.”

Solene hauled herself onto the bed of frozen chickens, having clawed her way upwards with heavy hooves. She staggered upright, wings shredded by ten thousand beaks and bloody, but the wounds were not deep and already beginning to heal.

A tendril of shadow slithered down from the battlements and Solene leaned against the oily surface. It hauled her up to the dark alicorn’s side before vanishing back under the mare’s cloak.

The white alicorn curled in on herself for a moment, then turned her eyes up to her younger sister. The younger looked down on the elder with cold eyes. “Thou are most welcome,” she said formally.

“I had it under control,” Queen Solene returned. “What’re you doing here, Lune?”

“Am I not afforded my title in the daylight?” Lune snorted. She cast an eye upward at dusk. “My night already overtakes your day in the sky, sister mine.”

“The moon isn’t up yet,” Solene pointed out.

“Thou hast missed dinner,” Lune frowned. “One of thy walking cocks saw fit to wake me. I bid him to return to his post and prepare his sheath for service upon thy return.”

“You do not order the Day Guard around,” Solene snarled. She gathered her legs under herself and stood up, eclipsing her younger sister in height and wingspan. She was bloody, but unbowed.

“Your guards could at least fight,” Lune said mirthlessly. “I daresay they could’ve killed this foal on their own and not fallen for an obvious trap.” The mare flipped her hood up and kicked the broken staff over. “Thy thanks will suffice, Queen of the Day.”

“Stop speaking like that,” Solene snorted. “It is ridiculous.”

“It is the formal language of the Everfree court.”

“You sound like a hornhead.”

“I am a hornhead, sister mine,” the mare replied shortly, “and so are thee.”

Solene swayed on her hooves and grunted. “Thank you,” she rolled her eyes, “oh mighty Queen of the Night.”

“Thy mockery falls flat. I was not the one failing to defeat chickens.”

“What?” Solene snorted. “You want to take over for the rest of the day? Go ahead. Want some guards that will actually fuck you instead of your insufferable bats? Take them too.”

Lune ground her teeth from the depths of her hood. “I want thee to take me seriously.” A dark indigo hoof jabbed at the lacerated corpse a body length away. “Thou nearly died to a foal afflicted by madness.”

“You wanted more recognition,” Solene said exasperatedly. “I named you Queen of the Night and Equestria a Diarchy. You wanted your own guards and I gave you the Night Guard.”

“You gave me cast-offs,” Lune replied. “Nopony wishes to serve the Night Mare. And I rule over sleep and little else.”

“Sounds like plenty of free time,” Solene shrugged a wing. She winced as a few feathers fell away. The alicorn turned back to the pit and frowned. “My spear is still in there.”

“I have no time,” Lune growled. “No time for the Dreamscape and my duties. Because thou art a harlot and whore that does nothing in your day but fuck and fight her way across Equestria.”

Solene nickered. “Don’t be jealous, Lune—”

“I AM NOT JEALOUS.”

A tendril of shadow slammed into Solene’s back and flung her tail over horn into the pit. The alicorn whinnied in surprise and slammed into the frozen, rock hard chickens. Her vision swam as she looked up to the battlements. For one moment, the darker alicorn looked horrified, but rallied her anger.

“You stole my name!” Lune shouted down at her sister. “You do nothing to hold this kingdom together! It would fall within a fortnight without me! I write the laws, the taxes, the codes while you party and fight monsters…everything good is credited to you and everything evil goes to me!”

Solene spat out blood and rolled to her hooves. “Please, Solene and Selene sounded like sisters. So what if a few ponies confused us?”

“You only did it because of the flank—”

“DO NOT,” Solene roared.

“It would have never happened if you made it back,” Lune whickered. “You took years with Odyssey. You left me to face Discord alone.”

“Discord’s madness made the sea wild,” Solene repeated for the hundredth time. “Do not blame me for that.”

“But that was the start,” Lune countered. She paced atop the battlement, glowering from the depths of her hood. “You wish to be Queen, but want none of the responsibilities. I cannot even tend to the Dreamscape because you refuse to hold court.”

“I hold court all the time,” Solene dismissed. She stomped through the corpses, trying to sense her enchanted spear underneath thousands of dead poultry.

“Orgies are not court,” Lune snorted. “Ponies blame me for their nightmares now. I am the Night’s Queen, and I cannot even tend to the night.”

“They blame you for those things because you are aloof and unapproachable,” Solene retorted. She winced again, feeling angry and exhausted from the hours-long battle. She tossed her floating mane. “Have some merriment in your life, sister.”

“I have no time for merriment,” Lune growled, “because you refuse to do your fucking job!”

“I raise the sun,” Solene snapped back. “Every day, no matter how hungover.” She grimaced at the crunch of frozen chicken, and gagged at the smell of fried chicken below it. Her horn was burnt out from spellcasting, so it would be slow, tireless work to find her spear.

“Truly an achievement,” Lune said dryly. Her horn glowed and the moon rose into the sky, signaling that it was officially the Lunar Court and Queen Lune of the Night ruled Equestria. “I shall return to Everfree. The tithes from the north have been disorganized since the fall of the Crystal Empire.”

“Those shadow monsters weren’t very tough,” Solene commented idly as she brushed a few corpses aside.

“I recall the nightmares they induced more frightening,” Lune retorted. “If you dream of chickens, I did not do it.” The alicorn tilted her head to the side. “Goodbye, sister.”

“You want to help me find my spear?” Solene called back. “It’s somewhere down here.”

“Do you care for nothing but that hunk of magic wood?” Lune snorted.

“I’ve had it longer than I’ve known you,” Solene snapped up at her. Her ears wilted immediately at the sudden look of pain on her sister’s muzzle. Lune’s shadows swirled around her and she retreated from the edge of the battlements.

“Wait!” Solene called out. “I didn’t mean it like that! Sister! Please! I’m sorry!”

Lune stepped back from the shadows and pulled her hood away. She stared down at her sister. They looked nothing alike. Lune was lithe and lean, still a pegasus’ frame after the centuries while Solene had the body most mares would die for. She was a warrior, even bloody and beaten, and held the love of her ponies. As long as she sat the Solar Throne, Equestria was protected by a Warrior Queen.

“You saved my life,” Solene admitted. Her wings sagged to the chickens. “I am sorry. Thank you, sister. Father would beat me for an eternity for dying to poultry.”

Lune smiled. It was clearly the first smile in a long time. Her lips twitched as if she had forgotten how to do it. “Thou are most welcome, sister mine.”

“Come with me back to Hollow Shades,” Solene continued, “you beat the Poultrymancer, so you’re the guest of honor at the victory feast. Come get drunk with me for the night. There are a couple stallions that are just your type—”

Lune made a disgusted noise. Her eyes clouded. “You do not listen, even with that horn nailed to your head. You are a terrible Queen.”

“Fine,” Solene snorted. “At least ponies like me, sister. You’re just the Night Mare to our subjects: cold, calculating, and unlovable.”

Lune’s clouded eyes sharpened. Her irises glowed under her black hood. “…I suppose I must be,” she said slowly. “I suppose it is my royal duty, sister.” The mare sank into shadow and whirled away from the battlements.

Solene rolled her eyes and resumed digging through the chickens for her spear. The light from the pale, featureless moon above assisted her. The alicorn laughed to herself about the overdramatic shadows her sister preferred.

Her legs shook now that she was alone, and she took a shuddering breath. She still felt the feathers and beaks pecking at her, even though nothing lived but her atop Mount Canterhorn. The feeling was worse; she was alone again.

“Not my fault you’re the Night Mare,” Solene grumbled to herself.

"Princess!" Sergeant Nocturne whinnied. "Watch out!"

Soleste is Quite Sauced

"Princess!" Sergeant Nocturne whinnied. "Watch out!" The night guard’s eyes were wide and terrified, and for a moment Celestia wondered why. She blinked at him from the side of her right eye.

And crashed horn-first into a display. Her sharp horn pierced the glass and overpowered the wards, slicing through the defense like it was a slice of velvet cake. Celestia reared her head back, sending her braided mane whipping across her head.

The heavy pink locks whipped around and knocked the exposed vase off its pedestal. Prince Jungle Trek stepped clear of the chaos, having tried to redirect his wife away from the collision-course. Celestia only then realized the faint shoves against her barrel for the past minute were from her husband attempting to nudge her out of the way.

The vase tumbled to the ground as Long Spear drove fruitlessly towards it, hooves outstretched as if gauntleted hooves would cushion pottery. Mercifully, he failed. Celestia noted the swirling tattoo extending from his greaves; it was a black rose inked into the fur with the name Daisy spelled out on the petals.

Celestia knew for a fact it wasn’t regulation and would have to be covered up, overpowering the enchantment that made the guards look similar. The earth pony winced as his dive came up short, skidding across the hallway floor just a hoof away from the shattered clay.

The vase didn’t make the traditional sharp sound when it broke; it was a rather limp affair of broken pottery. And it was thoroughly destroyed, not even close to resembling the elegant and ornate hourglass shape it held but a moment ago.

The hallway was silent as the four ponies stared at the shards. Jungle Trek started forward and his eyes roamed over it. “Was, uh, that one valuable?”

“Everything in this hallway is valuable,” Celestia said down to him from the side of her muzzle. She scanned over the pieces. Sergeant Nocturne looked under his Princesses’ legs to survey the trail of carnage she had left in the hallway, then looked over his withers to the kitchen door less than ten hooves away. His ears pinned back in distress.

Celestia thought of Odyssey glaring at her in the surf before the Wooden Pony. She chuckled, voice hoarse and broken. “Reconsidering you career choices, Sergeant?”

His mouth flapped open. “I…uh, your highness, of course not, but—”

“Lead on,” Celestia waved a wing, sweeping it over the wrecked display. She opened her eyes fully for the first time since she left the bedroom, and it was doubtlessly terrifying from Spear and Nocturne’s synchronized flinch. The alicorn looked over the wrecked display case for a large enough piece of glass to see her reflection.

One red eye stared back at her. Her normally soft, kind magenta eyes had been replaced with bloodshot, piercing orbs ringed red from blood vessels. She blinked again and it only looked worse as a shaft on sunlight from the windows made her squint.

I look like shit.

Prince Jungle Trek whistled. “W-woah.”

“P-princess…” Long Spear muttered. “T-that w-word is b-banned.”

“Oh,” Celestia sighed. “Said that one out loud, huh?” She smacked dry lips. “Well, it’s unbanned. Feel free to try it out.”

“I…” Sergeant Nocturne paused. “It…passing laws doesn’t work like that…”

“Sure it does,” Celestia huffed. She glared down at him. “I banned it and I just unbanned it. Say it.”

The Night Guard’s lips clammed up. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his head.

“Fine,” Celestia shrugged a hoof. She set the hoof down on a piece of pottery and broke the piece into more shards. “Let’s keep going. I’ll have Rare Archive and his unicorns repair it.” She considered the pottery. “Or we’ll just shove one of the replicas up there and hope nopony notices.”

Even Prince Jungle Trek seemed taken aback by the stream-of-consciousness from his wife. He stared down at one of the larger shards. “Is this from the minotaurs?” His hoof pointed at the silhouetted minotaur standing before a sunrise. The male was hefting a battleaxe into the air, with clear rings around his horns and massive biceps.

“King Darius,” Celestia explained despite her headache. “It’s a gift from his wife after his passing. He was a good friend after my sister’s fall.” The words still come so easily.

“It’s one of the most recognized and popular artifacts by the Minotaur Kingdom to Equestria,” Sergeant Nocturne added. “P-princess, we cannot just replace—”

“I’ll write to Queen Pasiphaë that I stumbled into the vase while hungover and broke it,” Celestia whickered shortly. Her voice cracked low into a growl. “Is that better?”

Sergeant Nocturne’s bushy tail tucked between his hind legs. Celestia caught herself and forced her muzzle shut before she bared her teeth at him. “I’m…I am sorry,” she apologized. “You are correct. Rare Archive’s team will do their best, and I’ll write a letter of condolence to Queen Pasiphaë.”

The Night Guard nodded slowly.

“When I’m not hungover,” Celestia continued. “Breakfast.”

Nocturne and Long Spear froze. She strode past the two guards, only shooting Long Spear’s exposed tattoo a glance with a raised brow. The earth pony hurriedly adjusted his gauntlet to hide the flower again.

Celestia stopped after a few hooves and slowly twisted her head back when she realized her husband had not followed her. Jungle Trek still looked down at the pottery with flicking ears. His sleeves needed to be rolled up again on his rented tuxedo.

“Want breakfast, my little husband?” Celestia nickered in a rasp. The alicorn forced herself to think critically despite the headache. “Oh! Did you help the minotaurs with their undersea archipelago?”

Jungle Trek shook his head. “W-what?”

“The Cartographers Society of Canterlot,” Celestia explained with a slow frown. “We had sonar spells two years ago to help map their coral ridges.”

The Prince knocked a hoof against his pith helmet. “No use for an earth pony out there.” His long sleeve flapped for a moment before he started to roll it back.

“What caught your eye?” Despite the hornache, Celestia grabbed the large pottery chunk with King Darius and his battleaxe and levitated it up to her muzzle. Her magic popped and sizzled around her horn.

“Nothing,” Jungle Trek said quickly. “It just seems like you were pretty close.”

“We were,” Celestia said easily. “The first few years were difficult after Luna…” she trailed off and swallowed. “We were close.”

“Right,” Jungle Trek said softly. “I understand. I just—”

"Hah!" Celestia abruptly brayed with a single throaty chuckle. “We weren’t that close, my little husband. Don’t be jealous.”

Jungle Trek smiled brashly. “Of course not.” He knocked his pith helmet. “No ancient warrior king of the minotaurs can compete with me.”

Celestia rolled her eyes, then closed them as the hallway spun. Huitzy: You are still hungover. She coughed. “Well, I had a special place in his heart. Still have the amulet he gave me in storage somewhere.”

The Prince laughed slightly shrilly. “…Really?”

“Yes,” Celestia turned back towards the kitchens. She bit her chapped lip as she tried to think of the name it was now known by. “The, uh, the Amulet of Sunny Days.”

“Sounds…appropriate,” Jungle Trek said haltingly behind her. He avoided her swinging braided tail. Celestia’s long strides overtook her two remaining guards even with her uneven, wobbly gait.

“It makes sunny days,” Celestia deadpanned. “Good picnic weather.” She gracelessly shoved open the kitchen door.

“Enough games, Sun Queen,” King Darius’ voice boomed across the fallen.

A Vase Representing Minotaur-Pony Friendship

“Enough games, Sun Queen,” King Darius’ voice boomed across the fallen. Soleste heaved deep breaths; her mane and tail floated like flotsam. The heat from the sun, her sun, was oppressive, even as twilight stretched out across the battlefield. Sweat and froth poured from her coat and gathered in her heavy, enchanted barding.

Even worse was the lack of magic. The Amulet of Ra boiled the magic in the air. Spells failed near it, being consumed and sent back to the bearer. The land around the mountain pass had already turned dry and brittle from a day’s worth of fighting. It would be a desert for many years, a badlands where no earth pony could make anything grow. It was another patch of land that would be abandoned.

Soleste swayed on her hooves. She staggered over to her spear and ripped it free from the fallen cow. The steel spearpoint trailed gore as she brought it back under a sweaty wing and braced it against the shield strapped to her left foreleg.

“Form up!” Soleste coughed in the waning light. “Get the wounded behind the shield wall and…” the alicorn stopped. She blinked rapidly through the sweat matting her helmet against her fur.

Nopony else was standing.

Arrows, spears, axes, swords…her ponies were gone, scattered after the shield wall broke the fourth time and cut down in individual fighting while their sovereign held her ground. Soleste had a deep cut above a hock, and a laceration that pierced the chainmail guarding her marks, but the blood had clotted and she would live. She could still fight.

Nopony else was alive.

Soleste looked around. Her mouth flapped uselessly as she recalled names, only to see the ponies dead on the ground beside the minotaurs that killed them. Some had died with spears in the back, having attempted to flee towards the stone pass they guarded.

And ahead of her, fresh legions of the Kingdom of Minos assembled ahead of their God-King. Soleste stared at a new cohort, easily five hundred strong. Pilums were braced to be thrown at the final standing target.

Soleste hunched under her shield, lowering her useless horn. She took a deep breath. Three hundred ponies had killed quintuple their number defending the mountain pass. Her dented helmet stuck out above the shield. Part of the crown attached to the stop had already been shorn off; a glancing blow that split open the felt on her horn and exposed the bone.

A horn blew and the cohort snapped to attention. They parted as a pavilion was carried forward by a dozen chained minotaurs. “Enough!” the voice boomed again, heavy and commanding. Even with the falling sun behind her, Soleste could see the King of the Minotaurs lounging atop his golden throne as his slaves lugged it forward.

The golden amulet around his neck lit up his sad bronze face. Darius was unarmored expect for golden loops and bangles. He had even forgone his battleaxe; a slave carried it ahead of the throne. The towering minotaur slammed a hand down on the armrest, and the slaves slowly lowered the throne to the ground with muted groans.

“Enough, Sun Queen,” King Darius stated. “You have lost.” His white horns dipped in sorrow. “Approach the true Solar Throne and submit.”

“Face me!” Soleste roared behind her shield. The spear danced up and down. “Magic or no, I can still cleave your horns from your skull!”

“You neglect your true duty, Sun Queen,” King Darius called back. “My army can fight in shadow or sun.” He lifted his arm, and Soleste felt the wave of boiling magic seize her sun and force it past the horizon. Twilight finally became night.

“You dare!” Soleste roared.

“The time has long since passed,” Darius returned. “But you are correct. I may control the sun….but the moon remains yours, Soleste.”

The dry valley was black, only lit by the stars in the sky. Celestia eyed the innumerable cohorts assembling behind their God-King. The spear wavered. “I named you friend!” she screamed out. “We fought together! We drank together!”

“I still name you friend,” Darius answered empathetically. “And that is why I am begging you to submit! Surrender, Sun Queen!”

“I am a Princess!” Soleste roared back. “I am a Princess of Equestria, and I demand—”

“Cease the delusion,” Darius scoffed with a wave of a heavy hand. “She is forgotten. You think calling yourself Princess will make it easier for two to rule? Luna is gone.”

“Be silent!”

“She is gone, and your kingdom is gone!” Darius shouted atop his throne. His hands waved wildly over the battlefield. “Look at what you could muster! A scant three hundred to counter thousands!”

“I name you traitor!” Soleste’s voice broke. “I name you blackguard and thief!” She shook her head, denying what she saw in front of her and what she knew was behind her.

Everfree was gone, consumed by the magical backlash of the shattered Elements of Harmony. The Principality of Equestria was falling apart at the seams. Earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns retreated from each other, hording their crops or their clouds or their magic to barter. Soleste’s kingdom was falling apart around her…

…because it had never truly been her kingdom. She had never realized how complex of a puzzle her sister had built in her shadow until she had to pick up the pieces alone. Soleste leaned her helmet against her shield. “I called you friend!” she sobbed out.

“I am sorry,” Darius rumbled with sincerity. “The dogs, the dragons, the griffons, the yaks…all of them are tearing your realm apart. I am merely the first crow to feast on the corpse. I offer you a way out.” He held out a hand. “Bow before the true Sun God, and rise as our tributary.”

“No,” Soleste nickered. She lifted her head again. “My sister would not, and I will not.”

King Darius sighed. “Soleste…I would not know you ever had a sister had you not told me. The ponies we have met since landfall only ever speak of you. And some knew little beyond their own village. Not even you.”

“Equestria is hers as much as it is mine,” Soleste denied.

“It remembers her not,” Darius answered. “It remembers a Nightmare that feasts upon foals—”

“DO NOT SPEAK THOSE LIES!” Soleste roared. She knocked the shield aside and charged with her spear on hoof. She charged towards a cohort of five hundred armored minotaurs without magic and only her earth pony strength. They formed a shield wall before their King in the sweltering night.

Soleste tripped on her bleeding foreleg and tumbled in a cloud of dust. She failed to even reach halfway, barrel heaving and gasping for air. A horn blew and the cohort broke apart again. The slaves carried the pavilion forward before setting the golden throne down beside an honor guard.

“Soleste,” Darius said quietly. “Please. Enough.”

Soleste coughed in the dirt. Her wing still gripped the spear against her side, but her feathers slipped on the blood and sweat dripping from the haft. She struggled to stand and the honor guard braced their heavy square steel shields.

Darius stood up from his throne. “I have no desire to claim your land or enslave your ponies,” he announced. “Your tribute will be gold and you will keep your crown.” The minotaur folded his bronze arms across his chest. The golden amulet in the shape of a sun around his neck pulsed with energy.

“If you wish to die a warrior’s death,” Darius continued grimly, “so be it. The Legions of Minos will be forced to enslave unicorns to continue your duties. I will not deprive the night of the Moon.”

Soleste stared up at the inky blackness above the battlefield. She preferred it that way, where only the stars looked down and judged her. She closed her eyes as she swayed on her hooves.

Darius' voice was pleading. "Please, friend."

The white alicorn knelt.

Pulling off her helmet and unlacing her barding, Soleste discarded her bloody, dented armor and bowed in the dirt. She saved the spear for last, letting it fall from her wing without ceremony. It landed with a thump and gathered dust from the sweat and blood.

Soleste was as naked as King Darius, white wings sagging to the ground beside her. In the light of the Amulet of Ra, her muzzle was clenched and wet with froth and tears. She turned weeping eyes up to the King.

“I take no joy in this, Soleste,” Darius sighed. “Queen Dido insisted once we acquired the Amulet.”

“She was always a wretched harpy,” Soleste sighed.

Darius chuckled. “She wanted me to kill you. I won’t. I may sleep on the throne for the rest of my reign, but I still name you friend.” The minotaur stood on his raised pavilion as the honor guard sheathed their weapons and lowered their shields. He held his hand up. “Rise, Princess Soleste.”

The alicorn slowly rose from her knees. As she did so, her wing wrapped around the haft of the spear fallen to the dirt. She found her grip.

Soleste whipped it forward with all her earth pony strength.

It was a poor throw and off the mark, sinking into Darius’ chest and lodging in one of his ribs. His arm went to his amulet, but knocked against the spear jutting from his chest. The bronze minotaur’s eyes were wide and his command choked in his throat. The guards responded too slowly, too shocked by the betrayal of the betrayer.

The alicorn leapt, bloody wings trailing in a glide as she used her unnatural height and size to make the jump above the shocked honor guard before they could raise their shields. She landed heavily atop the pavilion, wrapping her forelegs around the spear and forcing Darius back into his golden throne.

Soleste bared her teeth at him and snarled. She heaved the spear forwards, but it was stuck in the bone. Her head rang as Darius punched her, and the amulet glowed and flickered between them. Soleste reared back and used all her muscles to ram forward.

The spear broke through the rib and sank through his chest. She felt the shock as it scraped the other rib and exited from Darius' back, pinning him to the throne. The minotaur wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed even as he spasmed.

Soleste batted at the amulet around his neck with her flailing hooves. Eye to eye, the friends glared at each other hatefully until Celeste caught the golden chain in the wound on her hock and tugged the amulet free with a choking cry of pain. The chain wrapped around her hoof with a swing. She broke Darius’ grip with a desperate slam of her hooves against his chest.

The Amulet of Ra did not return her wounded strength, but her horn sparked. Soleste turned her fiery magic on the honor guards as they advanced to pierce her sides with their spears. Minotaurs were blasted into ash or melted in their steel armor. Deprived of their protection and magical victory, the back ranks broke and the slaves scattered.

Soleste fell to the ground beside the raised throne, still firing wild blasts from her horn. She stood up half-blind from sweat and blood and unleased a wave of fire into the advancing cohort, driving them back. Ash swirled down the mountain pass.

By the time she finished, the night glowed like day for a moment. The torches of the army ascending towards the mountain pass flickered in the distance, then vanished as the army broke apart and fled to their ships. Cries of dismay echoed as news of their fallen God King spread.

Which was good, because Soleste laid panting on the ground beside their dying God King. Her thoughts wandered. Queen Dido was pregnant, and the sow would be in no condition to continue the war for nearly a year. If she bore a girl, it would be doubly hard to keep her on the throne. Revenge would have to wait.

Soleste had just saved Equestria.

And all I feel is empty.

She lifted her head and looked up to King Darius. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

King Darius turned dull eyes down to her. He sluggishly raised a red hand from the spear in his chest. His breaths rattled. “Should…have known…a god…can bleed. Look…at you…” the minotaur forced out with a bloody smile.

“My sister…will come back,” Soleste revealed slowly. “They showed me…the Elements…the longest day of the thousandth year…she will…come back...to her kingdom.”

Darius attempted to chuckle. He only spat blood. “Won’t make it,” the dying minotaur declared. “It’s as dead…as I am…”

Soleste struggled to her hooves with a weary snarl. “You know nothing—” she cut herself off after looking up to the throne.

Darius was dead, glassy eyes looking out over the land he tried to conquer. Soleste trudged up the pavilion and pulled the spear free with the assist from the Amulet of Ra. She felt refreshed, though the night around her continued to swelter and her wounds continued to bleed. The alicorn sat down heavily beside her dead friend, then her horn glowed.

The scarred Moon rose into the sky, and Soleste looked away from her sister’s dark muzzle as it stared down at her kingdom. The Tree of Harmony offered no answers if her sister was awake or aware or even alive, and she had only a vision to cling to. Sometimes she even doubted that.

The last time she had held court in frigid, lowly Canterlot, an astronomer had asked if she knew anything about the Mare in the Moon while they laid in bed together. Later, the alicorn had listened through a door as a servant read her daughter ‘The Tale of the Royal Pony Sisters,’ and then looked guilelessly at Soleste while she poured wine for her sovereign.

Luna had said they never loved her.

And she was right.

Soleste held the spear to her side. She looked over the ashen battlefield and her dead ponies. All two-hundred and ninety-nine, all that she could muster to defeat an invasion. The steel-tipped spearpoint glistened in the night.

“Do you care for nothing but that hunk of magic wood?”

The earth pony-turned-alicorn closed her eyes. Her skill had carried farther than anypony else had ever ventured before. It won her a kingdom and a crown, and a horn and wings.

But it had cost her a sister. And her sister’s kingdom was crumbling.

Soleste was not the pony to rule Equestria. But she could be.

“You swear it?”

She had to be.

“I swear it.”

Princess Soleste dropped the spear.

“I’m sorry, Princess. The kitchen is mostly occupied with pies to stop the siege.”

Celeste's Very Pointy Horn

“I’m sorry, Princess. The kitchen is mostly occupied with pies to stop the siege.” Sergeant Nocturne dipped his head apologetically. “Equestria Daily’s siege tower is nearly at the front gate.”

Celestia blinked and regarded an empty kitchen foyer. There was a large metal bowl with a single wooden spoon on a countertop, and hoofprints in spilled flour on the floor. The double doors beyond blazed with heat from massive ovens; muffled whinnies and shouts echoed through the swinging doors.

An earth pony in a torn chef’s hat burst through the doors dragging a cart stacked with pies by his withers. He did not seem to notice the Princess standing in the middle of the kitchen. He moved nimbly around her and vanished through another swing door.

Celestia numbly watched it slowly shut with the scent of cherry pies in her nose. It only reminded her of last night’s cocktails. The alicorn screwed her eyes shut and snorted.

Another chef skidded through the foyer with pies balanced on her extended wings. “Reinforce the Light Brigade!” a voice brayed from the kitchen. Ramparts, one of the sous chefs, followed the pegasus out the doors, still shouting at her with a visible vein in one eye. “Those stupid, hornheaded idiots tried to charge—”

Jungle Trek coughed into a hoof.

Ramparts glanced to the side and spotted the group. “Oh, hello Princess.” The earth pony’s veiny eye wandered over them in a squint. “Kitchen’s closed, apologies. Your tin-cans keep missing.”

Ramparts was an oddity in the kitchens. He was descended from a long line of guards, and named by his parents like many foals in a blind hope that he would gain a mark to match his epithet. He did not; his cutie mark was a whisk. But the attitude and upbringing of a guard could never be fully erased, and Ramparts ended up at the castle anyway.

Celestia waved her wing vaguely back at where she thought her husband was standing. “Perhaps you have heard the news?” she ventured with a dry rasp. “This is your new Prince.”

“For a day,” Prince Jungle Trek added cheerfully.

“For breakfast,” Celestia amended. “Until Raven and Kibbutz get here.”

“Oh, right.” Celestia could hear Rampart’s dismissive nod. She opened her eyes again. Rampart’s naturally brown fur was mostly as white as her own. The stallion’s nod caused a cloud of flour to drift down to the floor.

“Well,” Ramparts sighed, “what can I make?”

Jungle Trek looked to Celestia, who did not respond, then looked back to Ramparts. “I’d really like some pancakes—”

“That wasn’t a question for you,” Ramparts nickered. He gave Celestia a rueful eye. “Or you, Princess. What can I make?” The stallion turned and shuffled through cabinets. “Kitchen’s running low on supplies.”

Another mare burst out of the kitchen with more pies on a bouncing cart. Celestia watched her leave. I should just steal one. They can’t stop me. Her stomach twisted in disgust at the smell of raspberries.

“Do you have eggs?” Celestia said aloud.

“Yeah,” Ramparts grumbled from within a cabinet. Several pots and pans rolled out by his flank. “But the flour is rationed for—”

“Eggs. Scrambled.”

Nocturne, Long Spear, and Prince Jungle Trek looked up to the alicorn. Ramparts slowly withdrew his head. “Uh, Princess?”

“Scrambled eggs,” Celestia repeated.

Ramparts blinked, not understanding. “Eggs are an ingredient.”

“Eggs are a meal,” Celestia corrected.

“For, uh, not-ponies,” Nocturne said warily. He licked at his fangs.

“Scrambled eggs,” Celestia said with finality. She stumbled through the kitchen foyer, glancing over the shelves and countertops. In the corner, the leftover bread and appetizers from the Grand Galloping Gala were stacked on a countertop for disposal. Celestia selected a perfectly intact Prench baguette, albeit doubtlessly stale.

“Butter,” Celestia ground out. She turned back to the other four ponies as she tucked the baguette under a wing. Ramparts silently placed a stick of butter in a metal bowl, then set in on a countertop without breaking eye contact with the alicorn.

Celestia peered down imperiously at the open drawers, then her vibrating golden magic retrieved a large kitchen knife. For a moment, the four little ponies' ears pinned back at the sight of Princess Celestia with bloodshot eyes glaring at a very sharp knife. Then she whipped it towards her head.

Sergeant Nocturne made a keening wail.

Despite her hangover, Celestia caught the blade in her teeth and peeled her lips back. Her magic chimed as she picked up the bowl and butter in her magic. The alicorn moved towards the dining room after tossing her braided mane to the left side of her head. Her right eye squinted at Ramparts. “Scrambled. Eggs.”

She managed perfect pronunciation while grimacing with a knife in her mouth.

“Scrambled eggs sounds great!” Jungle Trek said happily after a long silence. “Had to eat what we could get in the jungle. Lemme tell you, when a giant snake eats your supplies, you aren’t picky about eggs…”

Celestia let her husband further traumatize the other three stallions. She sat down at a long wooden table, settling on a cushioned chair. For the first time in many centuries, she flung her tail to the side instead of letting the nebulous mass float around. The pink braid flumped to the floor.

The bowl of melted butter landed on the table without grace, then Celestia scooched herself forward with her forelegs. She flung the baguette next to the butter. After a sigh through the knife, she picked up the baguette in her magic and counted to seven.

She set down a loaf of toast. The alicorn reared her head back, then flung the knife down point-first into the wooden table. The blade went deep and split the baguette in two.

Breakfast. Celestia licked her chapped lips. Then she paused and squinted at the table. “Fuck,” she swore aloud. She abruptly lifted her head from the table in alarm and looked around with a nervous squint.

Nopony was in the dining room. She sighed with relief.

The far doors opened with a chime of magic. For a brief moment, Celestia thought her sister had decided to get up early to castigate her. Her headache pounded.

A thin, small gray unicorn trotted through with a thick folder. Her mane was fastened into a bun below a folded scarf and a perfectly pressed white blouse. The mare adjusted her small framed glasses with a bent hoof, making sure they balanced on her muzzle. She was mousy and completely unthreatening.

Crom, not Raven. Not now. Celestia shrank down in the chair. Given that she was a massive alicorn twice the height of most ponies, it was for naught. Raven spotted her immediately and smiled with far too many teeth.

“Princess!” she trilled loudly. “What a good morning!”

The sounds of the battering ram striking the front gate echoed through the stained-glass windows in the dining room. Celestia tapped her forehooves on the table, then ceased as it made her headache worse. “Hello, Raven,” she rasped.

“There’s much to do today,” Raven continued as she waltzed across the room. The folder whirled around her head, circling like a shark. “We’re behind schedule, Princess. Not that the schedule matters.”

“Perhaps it’s best to wait for Kibbutz,” Celestia attempted.

“Oh,” Raven laughed, “he’s trapped in his office drafting the official responses to every major nation about your wedding.” Raven tilted her head with a pop of her neck. “Did you know that you swore to the Sultan of Saddle Arabia that you would never marry in 863?”

He was ugly. Celestia managed to keep that to herself. “We are divorcing,” she said instead.

“Hah!” Raven puffed. “That lucky idiot is going to be a celebrity for the rest of his life. Can’t wait to see the I Married the Princess best-seller next year.” The unicorn floated the folder down and disgorged several dozen papers. “Kibbutz and I have done the hard work. Again.”

“Thank you, Raven,” Celestia croaked. She levitated the blade up and sliced it down through the bread. The table shuddered as the knife was buried to the hilt, but the alicorn paid it no mind. She tore the chunk of toast free and rubbed it in the butter bowl.

The Princess’ secretary watched blankly. Her gray eyes wandered through the Princess’ mane. “Going for a new look?” Raven whickered. “Trying to impress your husband?”

“Raven,” Celestia sighed as her head throbbed, “I usually appreciate your fine wit—”

“Any of those reporters get a look at that pink bird’s nest and the stock market’s going to—”

“I fucked up,” Celestia snapped down at the mare. She crunched through the slice of toast with unflinching eye contact, then continued speaking and spitting crumbs. “I don’t need your horn up my ass right now. I’m fucking hungover and—”

She paused.

Her faithful secretary had gone white, eyes far away and pointing in different directions. Celestia levitated over the chunk of bread and poked her, smearing butter on Raven's muzzle. The unicorn rocked on stiff legs at the touch, like a porcelain doll.

Fuck. Celestia kept that one to herself. She set the toast down. “Raven, could you please check on the kitchen?” she requested in something passably like her kindly voice. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

Raven did not respond or blink.

Celestia speared the chunk of toast on the end of her secretary’s horn.

The unicorn whinnied and her eyes realigned. “W-wuh? Huh? What?”

“Raven?” Celestia said with false worry. “Are you alright? You stopped speaking mid-sentence.”

“Your mane,” Raven recalled slowly, lost in thought. “I was saying that reporters are going to think you’re sick and….” the unicorn trailed off as her mind hit a mental block.

Is the sight of me swearing so shocking that the average pony will block it from memory? Celestia considered it. Her muzzle began to curl into a grin before she rallied herself and suppressed the feeling.

“And…” Raven paused. She shook her head. “It’s been a long night.” Her horn glowed and the folder disgorged another paper. “The zebra and griffon ambassador’s trains are delayed due to all the commotion.”

“For what?” Celestia asked as she sliced through another chunk of toast. Raven left the chunk of toast on her horn, seemingly not realizing it was there and muffling the soft chime of her magic.

“The Treaty of 804,” Raven deadpanned. “The ceasefire between King Gerion and King Zeeb? It’s the two-hundredth anniversary.”

Celestia frowned and looked at the paper. She waved a wing after a moment. “I don’t remember.”

“Oh, it’s just one of Equestria’s limited foreign affair successes,” Raven chuckled. “Princess, you were there.”

“I’ve had a long life,” Celestia said blithely. “I don’t always remember all of it.”

“Oh great,” Raven replied, “tell that to the reporters and they’ll think you’re senile.” She slid another paper out of the folder. Celestia looked at that one as well.

Seaward Shoal’s quaint white docks beckoned under gentle waves. Retire at the Sea! was printed in large, blocky font above a cozy series of tall townhouses at a gentle shore. It was the premiere retirement spot in all of Equestria.

Boring! Huitzy brayed in her head. By Crom, just fling yourself off a cliff if you’re that done in!

“Very funny, Raven,” Celestia said aloud. She gestured with a hoof to her horn, accidentally clinking her golden horseshoe to her ancient wedding ring. Remembering it was there, the alicorn pulled it off and set it atop the brochure for Seaward Shoals.

Raven copied the gesture and bumped into the chunk of toast. She yanked it off her horn with a roll of her eyes. “The alimony papers are in the folder with the divorce. It just needs your signatures. Who’s the husband?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Star Trek?” Raven guessed. “Canterlot Herald and Equestria Daily are in-fighting about it.”

“Jungle Trek with the Cartographer’s Society,” Celestia explained.

Raven’s muzzle scrunched and she pulled the folder back. “Huh…”

“What’s wrong, Raven?” Celestia asked. Stupid question. Everything’s wrong.

“Nothing, Princess,” Raven said slowly. Her eyes flicked through a few pages. “Where’s the Prince?”

“In the kitchen,” the alicorn answered. “If you’re going to meet him, do you mind telling Ramparts to add salt and pepper to the eggs?”

Raven paused. “Eggs?”

Celestia sighed. “Yes.”

“…just eggs?”

Celestia bared flat teeth. “We are perfectly capable of eating just eggs. They’re in ten thousand recipes. I’m hungover. I want eggs. Why must every damn decision be—"

She stopped again as Raven’s eyes began moving in separate directions. “Raven?”

Her eyes snapped back in place. “H-huh?”

“Do you mind asking Ramparts to take one of Luna’s pineapples and juice it?” Celestia licked her lips again. “It’ll help with the hangover. She has hundreds; she won't miss one.”

"I suspect she will," Raven muttered.

"She can have one of my strawberry cakes," Celestia countered.

Raven reared her head back in complete horror at the thought of Celestia willingly abandoning one of her cakes. Her ears pinned back. “Of course, Princess.” She glanced through the folder again with narrowed eyes. Walking backward, she shuffled into the kitchen and the doors swung shut.

Alone, Celestia slammed her head into the table. Idiot. Nag. Put out to pasture, follow the Golden Fields. One bloodshot eye scanned over the cheery brochure. Forget roller coasters and Rainbow Falls. Sit on one of those docks and knit a quilt to cover your fat flank. Her eye wandered back to her suns. She could see her sun cutie marks from the front.

Yeah, Huitzy commented, put the Flank that Launched a Thousand Ships in a wheelchair and let Coya shove your fat ass around for a millennia. She’ll like the quiet time.

Celestia huffed. I am not arguing with myself. She jerked her head up.

Or rather, she tried to remove her head from the table, and pulled half the muscles in her neck. The alicorn sagged to the table with a long, low hiss. She crossed her eyes.

Her horn was lodged in the wooden table, nearly to the base.

Idiot.

Celestia breathed in, then slowly and carefully scooted back in her chair and extracted her horn at an angle. She tugged it free and tossed her mane back again, shaking splinters from the spirals. Afterwards, alone, she shoveled another piece of toast into her mouth.

She judged the size of the hole in the table. It was a gift from…Celestia did not remember who it was from, but most of the current furniture in the castle were gifts. Even the throne.

War trophies count as gifts, technically.

The alicorn closed her eyes and snorted as if it would relieve the headache. She shoved the little brochure for Seaward Shoals over the hole to cover it up. Right after she did so, the doors opened to the kitchen.

“So, Jungle Trek—I mean, Prince Jungle Trek,” Raven’s voice began dryly.

“Just Jungle is fine. Heh, it rhymed.”

Jungle Trek clopped up to Celestia, then seemingly reconsidered and moved around the table to face her. It took him a minute to traverse the room; the dining table could seat twenty ponies on either side. Or ten fat flanks. Celestia swore she could hear her wooden chair creaking over the pounding in her ears.

“As requested,” Ramparts suddenly said beside her.

Celestia did not jump, and her neck hurt. She cast an eye downwards as the nonplussed chef set a plate of eggs down. It was only eggs, with a light dusting of salt and pepper sitting on a plate with golden filigrees and an intricate engraving of the rising sun.

“Sunny side up,” Celestia rasped with a grimace that even the Element of Generosity would not call a smile. "Thank you." Ramparts backed away with his tail tucked between his legs. His chef’s hat was askew.

“Well, I haven’t had good eggs in a while!” Jungle Trek laughed. He finally wobbled over to the other side and sat down on a velvet-lined chair. “Comfy!” The earth pony pulled himself up to the table with a screech of chair legs on tile.

Raven floated over another plate to Jungle Trek, then set down two tall glasses of pineapple juice. They had bendy straws in them curled to look like little crescent moons. The moment hers landed on the table, Celestia seized it with her hooves and gulped half of it down. The straw was ignored.

“Pineapple really does help with a hangover,” Jungle Trek approved. “Learned that…uh, making maps! Lots of mapmaking.” His voice briefly took a higher pitch. “You, uh, spend much time in the jungle?”

“I was born there,” Celestia deadpanned without thinking.

The three ponies around her blinked in surprise. “R-really?”

Crom, what have I told anypony? Celestia felt her headache recede marginally, but her head felt stuffed with cotton. Did I tell Cadance…no, she was far too pure, only eyes for Shining.

“Princess,” Raven said softly, “if that’s all, we really need to get started with the proceedings.”

“I…I need to bake more pies,” Ramparts deflected. “By your leave, Princess.”

“Go, my little ponies,” Celestia sighed. “I’ll have a moment with my husband, then we’ll sign the alimony and get on with the annulment before the reporters break down the doors.”

“Of course, Princess,” Raven bowed and backed away, strangely going into the kitchen with ramparts. Celestia did not turn back around to watch them leave, her neck hurt too much for that, but she did spy Nocturne waiting with a frown. The Night Guard poked his head out from the side of the doors, looking past the Princess. She followed his piercing slit eye.

Prince Jungle Trek made full use of the bendy straw. He slurped the juice with a smile, having set his pith helmet down on the table. The earth pony’s mane was somewhat perpetually unkempt, and long for a stallion.

Celestia actually liked the look. It was roguish, proper for a mercenary. Cartographer, she corrected herself. He’s not Daring Do; he got invited to the Grand Galloping Gala, after all.

Jungle Trek set the drink down. “Well, I got to be Prince for a day.”

“A little less.”

“What stallion can claim that?” Jungle asked good-naturedly. He nabbed a slice of bread with a quick slice of the knife. “I, uh, don’t think they brought out any other utensils.”

Celestia leaned down and bit into the eggs with her muzzle. “Use the tablecloth,” she mumbled. She moved at an angle to avoid punching her horn into the table again.

“Earth pony style,” the Prince approved. He copied her.

Celestia licked her lips, then rubbed a silk cloth across her muzzle and soiled it. “I was born an earth pony.”

Jungle Trek paused with a mouthful of peppered eggs. He visibly swallowed. “Uh, really?”

“Yes,” Celestia leaned back in the chair. “In the jungle. Was that in any history books?”

The earth pony slowly reached out and grabbed another slice of bread. He had to reach across the table a little farther than he properly could. The alicorn smirked and shoved the bread over with a flick of her horn. “It’s not a trick question.”

“Not any that I’ve read,” Jungle squeaked.

“Shit,” Celestia huffed. “I just…do you like being a cartographer?”

“Yeah,” her husband mumbled around a mouthful of bread. “I just love making maps. All day. That’s all I do all day, make maps.”

Celestia looked over the papers, the brochure for Seaward Shoals, and the copy of some useless treaty that she barely remembered. Griffons and Zebras barely interacted. The Kingdom of Griffonstone was a ruin entirely dependent on economic aid from Equestria that they postured about every year, and the Confederation of Zebrica did not even recognize the old monarchy that once ruled it.

Oh. Celestia smiled to herself and began to laugh. It wasn’t the polite laugh from last night at the Gala, but a full-throated, raspy chuckle. She eyed her husband. Like all of her little ponies, she was taller than him even when sitting down. “Tell me, what’s the worst thing you’ve seen in the jungle?”

“I…” Jungle Trek’s ears pinned back. “Not sure that’s appropriate for the breakfast table, Princess.”

Celestia frowned, then looked around the fine room with marble pillars and stained-glass windows and gilded carvings along the walls. Her wings fluttered, one wing brushing against the long, wild pink locks of her mane in a rough braid. She looked down and regarded her horseshoes on her forelegs, fine gold with little suns stamped into the metalwork, enchanted to last centuries.

I don’t belong here, Huitzy said softly in her mind.

No, Celestia said to herself. But I had to be here.

She glanced at the cute little town staring up at her from the brochure, hiding a hole made by a long horn. She leaned down and took another bite of eggs, then sipped on her pineapple juice. Prince Jungle Trek mirrored her after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s taking her a very long time to die,” King Gerion said with a squawk.

A Copy of the Treaty of 804

“It’s taking her a very long time to die,” King Gerion said with a squawk. The bronze-brown griffon leaned forward in the red velvet chair, claws clasped under his chin. “Are you sure the poison will work?”

“She is an alicorn,” King Zeeb whickered. The zebra worried with his gray cloak, seated in the chair across from Gerion. The stripes on his muzzle twisted. “She is large for a pony, so I doubled the dose.”

Gerion clacked his beak. He leaned back; the golden crown atop his head caught the light from the wall sconces lining their private meeting room, torches dim in the night. “Are you still with us, Queen Celeste?”

Celeste, alicorn and ruler of Equestria, breathed raggedly on the floor. Yellow foam seeped from her slightly opened mouth as her barrel moved erratically. She inhaled with a gasp.

“Princess,” the alicorn corrected in a breathy rasp. She laid on her side, legs twitching as she tried to stand. Her only relief was a gentle breeze from the open window beside her, where she had previously trotted after feeling flush.

A magenta eye wandered to the spilled tea dripping off the table between all three rulers. A stain slowly spread across the paper beside the shattered teacup, and the three signatures dribbled away. Celeste gasped, “Princess.”

“Why bother?” Gerion shook his head. “Never understood ponies.”

“Peace,” Celeste coughed. Her legs shook, but did not move. Wings fluttered, but one was pinned to the floor.

King Zeeb rubbed his forehooves together, cloak wrapped around them. “Please understand, I take no joy in this, Princess. It’s just business.”

“Profitable business,” Gerion laughed.

“You were right,” Zeeb said in a soft voice down to her. “This war gained us nothing.”

“Not when there was a far richer and weaker target,” Gerion added. The griffon turned mocking golden eyes to the pony. “Your mewling grew tiresome, Queen Celeste, but it raised a good point. Your Royal Guard is no match for our war flocks.”

“Or our war bands,” Zeeb continued. His braided tail swished against the back of the chair while he thought. “She raises the sun, you know,” he said to the griffon.

“That farcical little play says unicorns did it long ago,” Gerion waved a claw. “She has not lived forever.”

“What about the moon?”

“There is no moon on her flank, yet she does that as well. Unicorns can do it as well, I'm sure.”

A shaft of moonlight, truly a reflection of her sunlight, pooled on the rug just ahead of her muzzle. Celeste struggled to reach it, writhing on the floor like a worm.

Her stomach burned; fire ate at her muscles. She did not recognize the poison, though it tasted minty. It had been well-blended into her tea.

“P-please,” Celeste begged. “This…j-ust…p-peace.”

“Easy for the alicorn,” Zeeb snorted. “My grandfather won his crown in blood while you wrote angry letters.”

“We have no alicorns, nor do we need one,” Gerion said. He waved a claw to his fellow king. “Finish her.”

Zeeb blinked. “W-what?”

“Finish her,” Gerion repeated. “My guards cannot keep away the pegasi forever. She must die quickly, quicker than this.”

Zeeb flipped his cloak around. “No!” He stamped a hoof into an armrest. “I already did the poison. You do it!”

Gerion smoothly drew a knife from under a wing. He lunged forward quickly, clearing the chair and placing the point under Zeeb’s muzzle before he could withdraw. The zebra rocked back before the blade pierced the skin.

Gerion’s golden eyes flashed in the firelight. “Since you insist.” He withdrew the knife from the shaking zebra, and Zeeb recoiled into his chair.

Celeste reached the light. She laid panting in it, casting one eye up through the window. Griffonstone beyond sang with muted noise, the great tree in the center bustling even at night. Forges and hammer blows echoed faintly as the kingdom prepared for more war.

The Mare in the Moon watched over all, craggy outline staring down at the world. Some said she judged it; some said she watched. Some gave the shadows a name: Luna.

Celeste rolled to all fours, yet stayed down; her horn glowed, but the magic snuffed out tears of pain. It hurt too much; too much to focus, too much to think, too much to do anything but lay there and wait to die.

Gerion walked up slowly with a curved knife in his right claw. He hesitated at the magic, but chuckled a deep, baritone laugh when Celeste failed. The griffon poised himself over the so-called Princess.

“W-we’ve done n-nothing to you,” Celeste choked out through her tears. More foam spilled form her mouth. The alicorn’s head laid on the floor between her hooves.

“It’s nothing personal,” Gerion shrugged his wings. “This is the way the world is beyond your perfect ponies.” His left claw grabbed her horn and angled her head up, exposing her long, slender neck.

Celeste was the tallest pony in the world. She was popularly thought as the most graceful, the most beautiful, lithe, and those with dirty minds thought her curvy. Her tiara had fallen off during her flailing, and her limp mane clung to her back, tangled in her wings.

Gerion shoved her head back farther and reared back the knife. He stood over her muzzle, horn just below his beak. He was a tall griffon, and he looked her in the eyes to kill her.

Celeste looked above him to the window. And beyond it to the Mare in the Moon.

“Do you promise?”

The knife descended.

“I promise.”

Celeste rammed her head forward and the knife cut across her neck, a shallow injury.

Her horn slammed through the bottom of King Gerion’s skull. Celeste forced her knees up, locked her legs, then heaved forward. She felt the griffon’s own body weight pull him down, felt her horn punch through, felt the rush of liquid spill down her head.

The knife tumbled out of a claw just before the owner fell from the window. Celeste leaned against the windowsill, heaving deep breaths. Her stomach roiled as she watched the body fall into the inner courtyard of Griffonstone’s great castle. It landed with a thud, and a golden crown sparkled far below in the moonlight, tumbling from its owner.

Celeste vomited out the window while squawks of alarm sounded below. She expelled more of the poisoned tea onto the rug when she stumbled back on shaky legs. Her head whipped back at frantic neighing from behind her.

King Zeeb had tipped back in his chair and tangled himself in his precious silk cloak. The zebra rolled and batted it with his hooves. “G-guards!” he finally neighed. “Guards! Help!”

None came.

Celeste staggered forward and kicked her tiara aside. She coughed again, spitting out more foam and her earlier lunch. Her magic was as weak as her muscles, but she still stood. A drop of blood ran between her magenta eyes, then curved down her muzzle. She licked it away.

Zeeb stared up at the alicorn lit by torchlight. Celeste knew exactly how she looked to him. Her neck throbbed from the shallow cut along the side, marring her white fur. More blood matted her head down to her eyes.

“Please...it was his idea,” King Zeeb begged. He had lost his crown when he tumbled out of the chair.

Celeste looked back to the knife, then the remnants of the poisoned tea, then to the wall sconce above the zebra. The fire burned low. She closed her eyes. The squawks of alarm grew louder, wings flapped outside.

“An assassin,” Celeste said softly, “came into the room. A gray griffon. King Gerion fought to save our lives. He hurled himself out the window in the battle.” The alicorn opened her eyes.

Zeeb’s muzzle shook. “Y-yes, yes of course.”

“This is the story you will tell to young Guto,” Celeste continued, “and the one you will tell to the court. His father died bravely to defend this peace some wished to ruin. I take it there were others in on this plan?”

“Yes!” Zeeb nodded. “Yes, I c-can tell you—”

“I don’t care.”

Celeste reached out a hoof and snagged Zeeb’s cloak. The zebra whimpered and shut his eyes. She tugged it free from his back, then used it to wipe down her muzzle and horn.

The alicorn tossed it to the fallen zebra when she was finished. “Wear it.”

Zeeb wrapped the bloody cloak around himself without argument. He was weeping. “Thank…thank you, Princess—”

“If you had the courage to take the knife, I would be speaking to Gerion.” Celeste staggered away from him as the squawking grew louder. Hooves and claws pounded on the stone hallway leading to the guest room.

Celeste took her place by the window, falling to her knees near the knife. She glanced up at the moon. “I didn’t do it for you.”

A pegasus and a griffon burst into the room together; panicked questions overlapped. King Zeeb wailed about an assassin while Princess Celeste stammered with a bloody wound in her neck. Griffons screeched throughout Griffonstone as a mad hunt for the killer commenced through the night.

Celeste wondered if Coya found the farce humorous. Or if she still thought anything at all, if she would return as mad as before. She only had two centuries to wait, a little less if the Elements showed her the truth. The little settlement beyond the Everfree had not chosen a name beyond her off-hoof comment of 'Ponyville,' and she hoped it wouldn't stick.

A new treaty was drafted, one of perpetual friendship between the races due to King Gerion’s sacrifice. Zeeb signed it with tears in his eyes, even though his realm was ravaged by war flocks. Celeste knew he would lose his crown for it, but he might keep his life.

Young Guto also cried for his father, and signed in a wide, blocky claw. He checked with his mother to make sure his name was spelled correctly. The griffoness knew of the plot, Celeste assessed. Her eyes never left the alicorn’s horn, except once when Celeste looked to her son.

The alicorn signed last: Princess Celeste of Equestria

No assassin had been found by the time her Royal Guards ushered her to a private chariot. Guto waited in an oversized crown, surrounded by his own guards under the orders of his mother. While pegasi hitched themselves to the front, the little griffon sniffled.

“I-I hope y-you c-come again to Griffonstone, P-princess Celest-tia,” he managed to stutter.

Celeste smiled. “I thank you, King Guto. And I thank your father.”

She paused as she stepped onto the chariot. “My father died when I was your age,” she said down to him. The little griffon blinked. “It is a hard path, but you can fly far and fly fast.”

As the chariot flew away, Zephyr frowned. The guard stallion twisted back in his harness; he was closest to his Princess. “I’m sorry about your father, Princess.”

“You overheard that?” Celeste asked. A wing rubbed at the bandage on her neck. “A simple story to assuage him. The Kingdom will stand as long as the Idol of Boreas remains.”

Zephyr nodded as the chariot picked up speed and altitude. Like all her little ponies, he accepted whatever she said as truth. His pink eyes searched her, freezing on the covered wound. “Is there anything I can do, Princess?”

In the past, Celeste might have invited him into the chariot to sit beside her and kiss it better. She smiled instead. “Keep your eyes on the sky, Zephyr Wind. Remember that Ironhead is retiring and I'll need a new Captain soon.”

The stallion twisted back with a blush. Celeste made a note to rearrange his schedule to guard the southern hall where Perfect Poise cleaned the artifacts. Her crush for him was well-known amongst the staff, and they gossiped whenever they thought the Princess wasn’t listening.

Princess Celeste thought again about Guto, and what it said about her that she could look him in the eye and lie to his beak about Gerion. He mispronounced her name. Celeste felt her tiara bump against her clean, perfectly white horn in the wind; a simple spell kept it attached as her mane flowed in the open air.

What kind of name is Celestia? She mulled it over on the flight back to Canterlot, but couldn't shake Guto's eyes looking up at her. Or his mother's eyes as she saw the Princess look to her only son, reading a message that the alicorn never intended to give. Perhaps Celeste deserved the memory.

“Princess Celestia?” Jungle Trek asked. “I’m sorry for getting you into this mess.”

Celestia and the Breakfast of Champions

“Princess Celestia?” Jungle Trek asked. “I’m sorry for getting you into this mess.” He tapped his hooves together as Celestia opened her eyes. The earth pony looked apologetic; ears pressed into his wavy mane.

“I got us into this mess,” Celestia sighed. She nudged her empty plate away, then cut herself another slice of toast. The bread was cold. There was nothing worse in the world than cold toast, but she dipped it into her butter bowl regardless.

Jungle Trek sipped the last of the pineapple juice through the bendy straw. It made a slurping sound. He laughed a touch shrilly and set it down again. “Don’t wanna argue with a Princess.”

“Truly, a happy marriage,” Celestia deadpanned.

Jungle Trek snorted in laughter.

Celestia copied him, undignified as it was. She moved the copy of the treaty aside, shuffling it under the brochure for Seaward Shoals. A folder of alimony papers awaited, mostly pre-filled out by her little bureaucratic ponies.

Do it properly, Celestia. The alicorn breathed in, then sat up straight in her chair. The wedding ring sat on the table before her, half-covered in bread crumbs.

“We will proceed with a no-fault divorce,” Celestia announced. Even though it is my fault.

Prince Jungle Trek nodded. He bit a slice of toast to prevent any reply.

“These papers will mean we are no longer married. We will announce it to the reporters gathering outside, and I will field questions. You may have to answer several, so Raven will coach you before your appearance.”

Jungle Trek chewed.

A flaming ball of newspapers crashed against one of the stained-glass windows. Celestia turned to watch it slide off the enchanted glass. I bet that’s from the Manehattan Monthly. Be like them to build a trebuchet.

She regarded Jungle Trek again. “On second thought, do you wish to make a public appearance?”

“No,” he said without thinking about it. “S-sorry, Princess.”

The papers will have a field day with that. “Very well,” she shrugged a wing. It brushed against her braided mane. Celestia flicked her ears and felt the mass of hair weighing her head down. I could deflect questions with the new look.

Princess Celestia pushed the alimony papers forward with a hoof. “We’ll sign and finalize the divorce. For your…” she hesitated, “for the emotional distress and continuing support of your mapmaking, you’ll be given alimony.”

Jungle Trek glanced down at the papers and winced. “Uh, what?”

Parents must’ve had a loving marriage. “You get money,” Celestia simplified. “I make more money than you.”

Jungle Trek blinked. “You get paid?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Celestia asked. Her muzzle scrunched. “Goodness, do ponies think I do this for free?”

“I mean, you’re a Princess, so…” Jungle Trek waved a hoof. “I dunno, guess I thought that was the payment.”

Celestia laughed, a genuine bray that was deeper than it should be. “No, I made that deal long, long ago. I get paid.”

“Oh, good,” Jungle Trek sighed happily. “I was worried about taking tax money, but if this is coming out of some personal account I guess it’s okay.”

Celestia stopped laughing. She moved papers aside with a hoof, looking for the number. She found it.

It was a very high number.

Annually for the rest of her husband’s life.

It came from her personal funds.

Luna. Celestia took a deep, deep breath. Her headache resurged with a vengeance. Let it go. “Well, you won’t have to worry about your job,” she said aloud.

“Huh?” Jungle Trek asked. He slowly read through the papers, eyes skipping around. “I dunno, I really like, uh, maps. I’d like to keep doing that.”

Celestia’s ears flicked. “That’s commendable, my little pony. Too many ponies let wealth get in the way of their special talents.”

Jungle Trek apparently reached the number, because his eyes widened at the zeros. “Uh, yeah,” he squeaked, “but, you know, I might need a little break. Get away from all the excitement.”

“The southeast is lovely for that,” Celestia agreed. “And not well mapped.”

“Yeah, lots of ruins and old roads. Forgotten tribes.” Jungle set his copy down, hooves shaking. His blue coat had a slight froth under dilated eyes.

“You’re going to stain the tuxedo,” Celestia warned.

“I’m pretty sure I can buy the tuxedo and the store I rented it from,” he returned. “T-that sounds like a plan. I like the southeast.”

“So do I,” Celestia replied. “I haven’t been back in years.” She looked down at the brochure for a cheery, happy, safe Seaward Shoals.

And Huitzy had a very mad idea.

She set her head on an upturned hoof, leaning on the table. Jungle Trek sat back at the sudden movement. Even slumped, the alicorn towered over him. “Say, you spent a lot of time in the southeast, yes?”

“Yes…” Jungle Trek allowed. “I was, uh, born there.”

“So was I,” the alicorn grinned. “You think you mapped my home?”

Jungle Trek took another bite of toast and squeaked.

“I was planning on retiring soon,” the alicorn admitted. “That’s partially why I got so drunk at the damn Gala. I’m bored of it.” She waved her other hoof around, golden horseshoe catching the light. “Bored of the whole thing, really.”

Her heavy pink tail swished against the floor. “Princess Twilight can keep up with all the technology, all the magic, everything far better than I ever could. Why’d you approach me with all those corny jokes?”

Jungle Trek choked on his toast. He thumped a hoof on his tuxedo, smearing it with crumbs. “W-well, I-I never went to the Gala before, a-and it just seemed like I’d never get an o-opportunity again.”

“Am I too old for your tastes?”

The earth pony made a heroic attempt to swallow his tongue. “N-no, b-but…”

She waited.

“You’re very pretty,” Jungle Trek said in a high-pitched voice.

“And you’re my type,” the alicorn admitted brazenly. “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been involved with anyone.”

“Anypony?” Jungle Trek corrected with pinned ears.

She winked.

“So!” the alicorn slammed her hoof on the table. Jungle Trek jumped. “I can go out there and announce our divorce…or I can go out there and announce my retirement.”

It took the earth pony several moments. “Are you asking me what to do?”

“Yes, my Prince,” she chuckled. “You won’t be Prince for very long regardless, I’m afraid, but perhaps we can get to know each other over a jungle cruise.”

Prince Jungle Trek’s muzzle twisted. “Like a honeymoon?”

The alicorn’s confidence drained at the look of bafflement on her would-be husband’s muzzle. “Y-yes,” Celestia said lamely. “I-if you’d l-like to do that. Or you can sign and take the money and go.”

He peered at the papers.

“I already forced you into a marriage,” Celestia winced. “Shouldn’t force you into a honeymoon too.” She slumped down to the table. “I’m sorry. I just...it's been a long time since I've had any adventure in my life.”

Jungle Trek bit his lip, staring between his pith helmet, the papers, and the half-eaten loaf of cold toast. “This has been the weirdest day of my life, and that counts the time the giant snake ate all the ration boxes and I had to wrestle it.”

Celestia was quiet. “I understand.”

“Shit,” Jungle Trek cursed with a laugh. “I kinda like weird. You know what, let’s—”

Two doors opened. Behind Celestia, the kitchen door opened with Raven, Nocturne, and Long Spear. Rampart’s bellows at the chefs for more pies followed them into the dining room.

On the other side of the room, the chief archivist for the Royal Vault burst in with the Captain of the Royal Guard. Rare Archive and Flash Sentry were out of breath, and Flash was covered in ink. Both ponies preformed a skidding bow to the Princess.

“I take it the reporters have breached the walls?” Celestia guessed. “Archive, I may have broken a priceless vase earlier. And vomited on a tapestry.”

“There’s been a theft,” Rare Archive panted, clearly not hearing what the Princess just said. “Last night, somepony breached the Royal Vault during the party.”

Celestia groaned. “I’m sure Twilight and the others will return whatever they—”

“Princess, she wasn’t at the Gala,” Raven said behind the chair. Her faithful secretary trotted around the table, flipping through a guest list. Celestia twisted to see Seargeant Nocturne and Corporal Long Spear slowly circling the table.

They were glaring at the Prince.

“Furthermore,” Raven nickered, “no members of the Cartographer’s Society were invited to the Gala, not after they insulted Luna over the star charts last year.”

Jungle Trek sank into his chair. “Actually, on second thought I might just sign and take the money please thanks—” Raven yanked the alimony papers off the table with a flash of her horn. The earth pony squeaked in dismay.

“The Gala is also open to the public,” Celestia stated. She eyed the frowns along the room. “What was taken from the vault?”

“One artifact,” Archive sighed. “We only realized the magical wards had been breached late this morning, then had to check the catalogue. They broke into the high-security section.”

“I ward that myself,” Celestia frowned.

“At least two unicorns and a pegasus,” Flash panted. “I can’t spare guards to trace the spellwork yet. The siege tower is at the front gate. Equestria Daily and Hoofington News Network have allied to scale the walls.”

“What was taken?” Celestia repeated.

Rare Archive squinted and ruffled through his folder held aloft by his horn. “Just the…Amulet of Sunny Days? It’s a low-level artifact. I was sure it was miscatalogued as high-risk. I’ve never even heard of the thing before now.” He looked up to Celestia. “If this is a minotaur artifact, this could be a plot to ruin relations between our races.”

“We can write to the Elements to track it down,” Flash suggested.

“Oh, sweet Celestia,” Raven breathed. “Princess Twilight doesn’t know yet about the marriage.”

“You’re sure?” Flash’s ears twitched.

“She hasn’t teleported here in a blind panic,” Raven answered.

Flash accepted that reasoning with a nod. “We need to get this situation under control.”

Celestia drained the last of her pineapple juice. She belched into a hoof.

The room stopped to stare at her. But Celestia only stared at the shrinking earth pony across from her. Jungle Trek tried to vanish under the table. She forced herself to think past her headache.

“What time was the break-in?” Celestia asked in a dry voice.

“About two, we think,” Archive offered.

She was on her seventeenth cocktail and an earth pony in a poorly-fitting tuxedo…

…you were married under the light of my moon at 2:43 AM.

“Were you here with the Cartographical Society of Canterlot?”

Jungle Trek still looked down at the pottery with flicking ears.

“What caught your eye?”

“Still have the amulet he gave me in storage somewhere.”

The Prince laughed slightly shrilly. “…Really?”

Celestia actually liked the look. It was roguish, proper for a mercenary.

…you absolute fucking idiot, Huitzy.

“My little pony,” Celestia began in a rumble, “is there something you’d like to tell me?”

Only Jungle Trek’s eyes peeked out from his side of the table. The stallion had fully slid out of his chair, leaving the wedding ring and pith helmet behind. Nocturne and Long Spear halted beside the chair, glowering.

“If I asked Map Quest if a pony matching your mark and description was employed by the Cartographer’s Society, what would he say?” Celestia asked aloud. Her bloodshot eyes felt dry.

“No,” Jungle Trek answered. “I’m not very memorable.”

Celestia jerked her head to the two guards. The motion made her headache intensify. “Back away, gentlestallions.”

They did so.

“So?” Celestia asked again. “Don’t keep secrets, my husband. Hardly a healthy relationship.” The ponies in the room shared uncomfortable glances at her mocking tone.

“I was just supposed to distract you while they breached the wards,” Jungle Trek whickered with a stutter. “I had to pay for the stupid tux and Swift Wind hopped me over the hedge.”

“Is that the pegasus?” Flash asked. “We found a few ropes.”

“That’s her name.”

“Is Jungle Trek even your real name?”

“Yes?” Jungle Trek confirmed.

Flash slammed a hoof into his muzzle. “You used your real name for this?”

“S-somepony wanted the amulet!” Jungle Trek wailed. “They just h-hired us!”

“You needn’t have bothered,” Celestia snorted. “I was drunk; I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“I was drunk!” Jungle countered. “I was nervous! Everypony kept giving me cocktails!”

“There’s far worse things to steal,” Rare Archive commented. “Maybe some solar cultist wanted one of your old amulets?”

“That’s still bad,” Raven answered.

More likely they knew what it actually was…Celestia refocused. “Who was the buyer?”

“I don’t know,” Jungle Trek pleaded. “I was just supposed to say a few corny jokes and then wander back to the hedgerows to get out.”

Long Spear laughed. “They left you there! You were just a distraction!”

“No!” Jungle Trek snorted. “We were gonna meet up afterwards.”

Flash’s ears perked. “Where?”

“They were gonna tell me when Swift Wind picked me up.”

“Distraction,” Raven nodded.

Jungle Trek thought about it. His eyes scrunched. “Aw, damn it.”

“Language,” Nocturne hissed. “You’re in enough trouble.”

“Have you heard the Princess!? She’s been swearing all morning!”

“Enough,” Celestia huffed. “What were the names of the unicorns?”

“Mystic Might and, uh, Enigma.”

“One of you was more careful than the others,” Celestia deadpanned. “I take it ‘Enigma’ was the ringleader?”

Jungle Trek winced. “Yes.”

Her voice hardened. “Do you know what the amulet actually was?”

The room shared more looks. “Uh, Princess?” Rare Archive asked. “Is the Amulet of Sunny Days not…” he trailed off at her bloodshot side-eye.

“E-enigma said it was an artifact of immense power,” Jungle Trek shuffled further under the table to the point only his mane was visible. “She said she could hold the power of the sun in her hooves.”

“Wait,” Long Spear frowned, “was everypony a mare except you?”

“Yes?”

"And they sent you to distract the Princess?"

"...yes?"

Celestia sighed. “Come out from under the table.”

The Prince of Equestria did so, looking only slightly less pathetic than Blueblood. His sleeves unrolled again and he slipped on one. “I’m sorry. I-it was a l-lot of bits.”

“That’s no excuse, criminal scum,” Flash spat. He raised his wings. “You’ve incited a riot outside!”

Jungle Trek’s muzzle twisted. “It wasn’t my idea to get married!”

Celestia shut her eyes to the argument. “Does this annul the marriage?” she asked out of the side of her muzzle to Raven.

“Unfortunately, no, Princess,” the secretary observed. “It’s an insult to the Moonspeakers.” Another ball of newspapers crashed against a window. Neighing could be heard through the glass. “We'll, uh, deal with it?”

“Aw, geez,” Flash huffed. “I gotta get back out there. Sergeant Nocturne, you have command. Corporal Long Spear, assist him.” Hooves pounded on the floor.

“I suppose I can’t claim diplomatic immunity as a Prince?” Jungle Trek asked with a squeaky voice.

“You’ll be lucky to claim a pillow in jail,” Long Spear snorted.

Celestia opened her eyes and stared down at the brochure for Seaward Shoals. Okay, Jungle assists with locating his partners. Twilight and the others get the amulet. I deal with the press.

After glancing at the wedding band, she imagined Twilight’s mane curling in every possible direction. No, no Twilight. Cool down the press, then have the guards search Canterlot. The chaos from everything probably kept them in the city.

“Princess,” Nocturne requested, “what are your orders?”

Celestia’s tiara sat poorly on her physical pink mane. The braided hair bumped into the crown. She pulled in a deep breath. Tell the press it’s my fault. I married a criminal in a drunken binge because I hate being a Princess. Let them freeze and panic and neigh in dismay.

“Look, just sign the papers and we’ll work something out with the charges,” Raven offered. The unicorn tossed her head. “This is ridiculous.”

“Wait…” Jungle Trek paused. “I still get money for this?”

Raven sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. The marriage wasn't part of the scheme, clearly."

This is the right thing to do, Celestia told herself. Raven, Rare Archive, Nocturne, and Long Spear stared at Jungle Trek standing across from the Princess. He clutched his pith helmet like an emotional support toy. This is Equestria. This is a better place.

“Unbelievable,” Nocturne scoffed.

“Well, it was her idea to get married,” Jungle Trek shrugged a hoof.

Huitzilopochtli looked up from the brochure for Seaward Shoals. Her horn glowed.

Huitzy and Xiuhcoatl

Luna, Princess of the Night, took a bite of sliced pineapple and hummed in delight. She leaned back in her chair. The lithe alicorn kept her eyes closed, enjoying the silence of the dining hall and the world beyond the windows.

It was a rare silence, similar to her Night Court. Luna rarely had enjoyed such silences during her late breakfasts; the castle was usually bustling with activity while she was trying to start her day. It was trying after a night of dealing with nightmares and petty troubles of her ponies.

But today, after a period of madness, there was naught but blessed silence.

Luna took a sip of lemon water and set the glass back down on the table. The table creaked dangerously, barely held upright by a stack of buckets and pans on the other side. It was surprise to find half a dining table this morning, held precariously upright and half-blackened with ash, but Luna was determined not to let that get to her.

Unlike the poor maid scrubbing an ashen shadow off the wall across from Luna. Her hooves shook as she dipped the sponge back into a soapy bucket, eyes far away and very wide. Luna guessed the shadow scorched into the brick was an earth pony, apparently holding or wearing a pith helmet. She glanced down at the morning paper and the photograph of ‘Prince Star Trek.’

“What happened afterwards?” Luna asked after another sip of water.

There was no response.

Luna turned to the two ponies standing beside her chair. Sergeant Nocturne and Raven Inkwell stood stock-still, knees locked and eyes staring forward at nothing in particular. Both of them had rather bad sunburns that discolored their fur.

“Sergeant Nocturne?” Luna shifted a wry look to her Night Guard.

“P-Princess?” Nocturne answered shallowly. His voice was distant.

“After my sister…divorced…her husband, what happened?”

“W-what?”

Luna sighed. “My sister went down to the vault, correct? With Rare Archive?”

“S-she asked for…” Raven stumbled over her tongue, “for a spear. Archive didn’t know about a spear.”

“She took the Staff of the Sun Serpent,” Nocturne picked up.

“Xiuhcoatl,” Luna corrected. “The old name.”

Both ponies blinked. The maid twisted her head to look behind her. Luna ignored it.

“So, she went and got her spear,” Luna pieced together. “Then she resolved to hunt down the thieves herself and departed with Corporal Long Spear. She was last spotted at a tattoo parlor fifteen minutes ago. Is that all?”

“Y-your sister said s-she’d find them herself. She left through the front gate with Corporal Long Spear,” Nocturne whispered. “She needed him to help track them.”

“And that is why the Dreamscape was abruptly filled with unconscious reporters just before I woke up,” Luna clapped her hooves. “Wonderful, progress. Who is Long Spear?”

“A Day Guard, Princess.”

“No, what tribe?”

“He’s…he’s an earth pony,” Raven offered.

Luna chortled. “Well, I hope he lives up to his name. Does he have a special somepony?”

“Y-yes? His m-marefriend does tattoos.”

Ah, getting the old war paint. Luna frowned and tapped a silver-shod hoof to her muzzle. “This situation is more serious than I thought.”

Another pony stumbled in through the doors, armor dented from fired quills by the army of reporters. “Acting-Captain Arrowhead,” the Day Guard saluted. The pegasus' wings were ragged. "We've taken the last of the reporters to the hospital."

Luna took another bite of pineapple and waved a wing. Her starry mane drifted around the ashen chair. “Report, Captain. Where is Flash Sentry?”

“Captain Sentry has departed to enact Daybreaker Protocol, your highness.” Arrowhead bowed.

The alicorn paused mid-chew. “I beg your pardon?”

“He’s headed to Ponyville,” Arrowhead explained. “Princess, please…reason with your sister.”

Luna stared at him.

Then burst out laughing, spraying pineapple across the table. She pounded a hoof into the table, making the precarious stack of cookware wobble on the other end. The alicorn tossed her head back and cackled. “My sister is not ‘Daybreaker’ or whatever insipid name Starlight envisioned,” she struggled to say through her giggles.

“Princess, s-she d-defeated the entire army of reporters with her hooves then burned their siege tower and battering ram.” Arrowhead’s eyes drifted apart. “So much p-pie, wasted.”

"Manehattan's stock market will fall apart when word breaks out," Raven mumbled.

Good thing there's no reporters to send word. “They’re all alive, aren’t they?” Luna shrugged a hoof.

“Many of them require intensive magic care to repair their s-spines.”

“Alive,” Luna repeated, “believe me, that’s restraint. Did she say anything?” She gestured to the ashen shadow.

“I don’t u-understand,” Raven whispered.

"Did she say anything after..." Luna gestured at the ash pony on the wall.

"S-she said t-to g-go to the v-vault—"

"Nay," Luna huffed. "I mean...something pithy. A quip. A riposte.”

"Um," Nocturne swallowed. "S-she s-said, 'Till death do us part' and l-left the wedding ring on the table."

Luna glanced down at the tarnished band. It was an old as her, probably one of the war rings that the old tribes braided their manes with, usually taken from the unicorns that wished to enslave them. To the uniformed eye, it looked like a cheap, faded wedding ring.

"Eh," she snorted. "Five out of ten. That’s not that bad."

Arrowhead swallowed. "When kicking her way through the reporters, she kept screaming, 'No comment!' in the Royal Canterlot Voice."

Luna chuckled. "My sister's favorite was throwing the spear, then saying 'Stick around,' so her lack of originality is a good sign."

"She did throw Equestria Daily's head reporter through a window after declaring an 'Off the record' opinion."

Luna hummed. "The record shop on 3rd?"

"Yes, Princess."

"The situation is more dire than I anticipated,” Luna admitted. “She’s regressed.”

Raven’s lips trembled. “S-she’s fallen? L-like…”

“Nay,” Luna denied with an errant hoof. “She has made no pact with dark forces, except her own vices.” The alicorn looked to the stain-glass windows of their victories, stylized over the long centuries. Red was not an often used color in any window.

“When We returned from our exile, even the Nightmare was flummoxed by the mare that would embrace us and call us sister. Gone were her muscles and booming laugh, wearing regalia as flimsy as the gold she once mocked. She supped tea!" Luna snorted. "Tea! Her personal guards were all stallions, yet she only eyed cake! Her appetite was legendary!”

Luna folded her hooves and glared at the table. “We thought she did it as a jest. That one day We would wake to another drunken bout and booming laugh, but…” she looked up at her audience.

Nocturne, Arrowhead, and Raven stared up uncomprehendingly at the alicorn. And how could they understand? Coya whispered to herself. They do not know a mare; they know a Princess, one of kindness and light.

Luna took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Somewhere in Canterlot, an earth pony proposed to a pegasus. The nervous stallion dreamt of it last night. He was afraid to do it in public, constantly dreaming of eyes judging him.

But not of a braying crowd laughing at the serf appealing to his better. It was a simple stage fright. And the pegasus mare he fancied dreamed of the day the stallion would ask her, and of a foal’s crib in the future.

Their foal would have wings or a horn or nothing at all. It did not matter to her. She never dreamt of taking her half-breed foal away, forsaking her love, and dying a lonely, cold death in the clouds because that was where she should have been.

It was a better, kinder world. The one that a wild tribal named Coyolxauhqui dreamt of, shivering in a threadbare blanket of the Cloudiseum. And it was a world she never expected her sister to build. But when she returned from her mad folly, it was the world that awaited her, scary and confusing and yet so full of love.

But sometimes, Luna admitted to herself, I wish your little ponies weren’t so fucking soft. She groaned. You never did anything in half-measure, sister.

“Hath no fear,” Luna said aloud, “the once and past Prince is in Tartarus.”

“R-really?” Raven’s ears perked up.

“Indeed,” Luna lied smoothly. “Maid, you are dismissed. My sister will scrub the walls herself when she returns.”

The maid dropped the sponge into the bucket with a sigh of relief. Luna almost missed the muttered, “Could’ve blasted Blueblood,” as she moved the bucket to the side. Life and normality gradually returned to the other ponies.

“W-what’s wrong with Princess Celestia?” Arrowhead pleaded.

Luna levitated up the singed brochure for Seaward Shoals. “We are indeed retiring soon, tis true. My sister has been the Princess of Equestria so long she struggles to imagine being anything else.”

“She’ll always be the Princess to me,” Raven said stubbornly.

Believe me, that thought makes her snarl more than anything else, Coya laughed in her mind. I had to talk her into the job, and she negotiated pay like a true mercenary. “Regardless, Princess Twilight will do ably,” Luna said with finality.

“Of course,” Raven Inkwell accepted.

“Dismissed,” Luna announced, “all of you. I will go find my sister posthaste and she will realize that she still has a place in Equestria. I believe the ponies of today call it a ‘mid-life crisis’ or something similar?”

Arrowhead’s eyes widened. “Is Princess Celestia going to die!?”

Luna hesitated. “No, of course not.”

“Oh, good!”

“Nor will I,” Luna frowned, but Arrowhead had already turned to leave. Raven followed with renewed pep in her step, despite her sunburns. Nocturne bowed with a wince.

“You are hereby placed on medical leave,” Luna said to him.

“Thank you, Princess.”

Luna passed several sheets of half-burned paper over to the stallion. “Please, have the marriage annulled. Pass it to Captain Shadow. Technically, all Moonspeaker marriages must have my approval as Guardian of the Moon. They were never married.”

Nocturne glimpsed the number for alimony. He raised a singed brow under the helmet.

“We are sisters,” Luna smirked. “She would have done the exact same to me if the situation was reversed.”

Nocturne stumbled out of the room with stiff wings from the sunburn. The alicorn was alone, savoring the last of her pineapple and lemon water, a healthy way to start what would doubtless be a long day and even longer night. Her sister may have let herself go over a millennia, but three thieves were not a challenge.

Luna spared one last glance at the shadow burned into the wall. Poor Star Trek. If you had confessed thy sins at the start, she would have welcomed you later; her bed has seen far worse partners.

There was a flash of light with a whirling cacophony in kazoos playing a bridal march out of tune. Luna blinked sedately and sipped her lemon water. A kazoo blew in her muzzle. As a rain of confetti cleared, Discord waved a bouquet of flowers through the colorful storm and floating instruments.

“Where is the bride and groom!?” Discord shouted over the noise. He tossed the flowers between his lion paw and claw. They changed color and type with each toss. The Spirit of Chaos settled down, using his dragon’s tail as a beanbag. “I caught the flowers she pitched towards Ponyville last night!”

“How hath the once and future Princess reacted?” Luna deadpanned.

“I stole all the newspapers. You’re welcome,” Discord tapped an antler with his claw. “We’ve bought another hour.”

“Mayhaps,” Luna shrugged a hoof. “Captain Sentry is inbound.”

Discord smirked. “Off to marry another Princess, then? Oh, the chaos will be spectacular.”

Luna pointed to the wall behind Discord. “Since you’re here, do you mind cleaning up?”

The draconequus raised a claw to his mouth. “Already asking for favors, dear Lulu?” He turned around. “I suppose I can take…a…look…”

Luna sipped her water. “There is also some vomit on a tapestry and a broken vase in the bedroom hallway. I was intending for Celestia to clean up her mess, but you make it so convenient since you came here to gloat.”

Discord stared at the shadow silently. The kazoos melted with sad whines. He stood off his tail and wrung the bouquet between his mismatched hands. After a moment, he raised a claw and snapped it.

The pots and pans holding up the table vanished as the table was abruptly repaired, albeit with oak instead of maple. An ugly shade of yellow wallpaper covered the far wall. Luna nodded her thanks, not that her conversation partner saw it. He still faced away.

“Discord?”

“I had nothing to do with this,” he said quickly as he turned back. The flowers vanished. The Spirit of Chaos worried with his remaining fang. “So, is she all flamey and broily?”

“Canterlot is still standing, so no,” Luna quipped.

“That’s good.”

“She has the spear,” the alicorn said with an audible smirk.

Discord winced and rubbed his side. “Really?” he said with an awkward laugh.

“Yep,” Luna nodded.

He scowled at her. “Don’t use your sister’s madness against me.”

“You’re the one that tried to whammy her,” Luna retorted. “You ever find that missing fang?”

“It’s still missing,” Discord folded his arms. “I think she melted it during the fight.”

“I told you not to try it.”

He raised a single talon. “I thought it would reverse her warrior tendencies and make her a mewling pacifist incapable of hurting a fly. Not make her more stabby.”

“It made her more stabby.”

“So she claimed,” Discord grumbled. “Still not sure it actually worked. I think she just used it as an excuse. She kept stabbing for a few minutes after I undid it.”

“She didn’t need an excuse to stab you, tyrant,” Luna answered.

Discord’s paw drifted lower. “She stabbed low.”

“Deserved it,” Luna chuckled.

“No stallion deserves being stabbed there. Let alone 132 times.”

“I did not know you kept count,” Luna remarked.

“She did. She called her shots. While laughing. Not exactly the chaos I was going for.”

Luna waved a wing at one of the spare chairs. “She’s hunting down the thieves that stole the Amulet of Ra.”

Discord took a seat and snapped his talons. An orange fell into his paw and he began eating the peel. “I had nothing to do with that either.”

“I never said you did,” Luna raised a brow. “You might be able to find the thieves before Huitzy does if you’re in need of a good deed for fair Fluttershy.”

Discord considered it. “She has the spear?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll pass.”

Luna laughed again. “Best go before she thinks you were involved.” Her lips pursed. “You weren’t involved?”

Discord gave her a look of annoyance and buried worry. “You aren’t worried about this?” he needled. “Queen Helia come again, wandering the streets of Canterlot with no Hayctor to duel?”

“My sister may be the same pony inside her head, but a thousand years of cake and throne-sitting have taken their toll,” Luna rolled her eyes. “She’ll tire herself out.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Her flank could truly launch a thousand ships now.”

“It was quite the transformation over the years,” Discord admitted. “Solene turned more and more into a swan every time she visited. Stopped making threats and curses. And just…talked. About you.” He tapped his claw and paw together. “I…I enjoyed the talks. I prefer this Celestia honestly.”

Luna waved her wing at him. “Don’t.”

“I would never!” he protested. He snapped his claws, and a bag of ice fell into his paw. It drifted under the table. “I have phantom pains even thinking about that spear. I’d rather take your daggers through the eyes again.”

“Unlike me, she never learned,” Luna observed. “She’s stubborn like that. But if harmony hammers a lesson into her skull, she takes it to heart.”

“Everyone is capable of change,” Discord tugged on his beard, looking solemn. He palmed the unpeeled orange and regarded it with mismatched eyes. “Truly, I never quite understood love. Never considered it as a force of change.”

The orange burst into a stream of butterflies with wedges for wings. They circled the rafters, flapping in defiance of everything. Luna opened one of the windows with a flick of her horn, and the small flock vanished into Canterlot’s sky.

“You know that birds will probably eat them,” the alicorn said wryly.

“Circle of life,” Discord shrugged, “just like thieves and the Spear of the Sun Serpent.”

“Beware its bite,” Luna giggled. “Do you think she kept my daggers?”

“I am certain she did,” Discord answered. He noticed the singed brochure and his lips curled into a mocking sneer. “I take it I’m not allowed to visit? Might scare the old ponies to an early grave.”

“Depends. She might take the spear with her.” Luna finished her water. “I suspect we shall announce our plans earlier than intended. I may make up some lie about a cursed amulet or blame Chrysalis for dear sister's attitude. I'm sure she'll be embarrassed once the adrenaline wears off. Fare thee well, tyrant.”

“Moonie,” Discord teased back. He raised his claw. The Spirit of Chaos spared one last look at the newspaper of the former royal couple, then lowered his arm. “Uh, what plans?”

“You know which ones,” Luna huffed. “Do not play coy. Limit your torment of Princess Twilight. She may be less ‘stabby’ than mine sister, but allow her to settle into Equestria's rule.”

“Right,” Discord swallowed. He stood. His tail swished in the air. The draconequus hovered even when his wings did not flap, not that ever stopped him unless he found it funny. Luna observed him warily.

“Is something wrong?” the Princess of the Night asked. “My sister brought this madness upon herself; she does not blame you. Not yet at least.”

“No,” Discord said slowly. He looked around at the glass windows. The one Luna opened and closed was of his first defeat, both alicorns facing him with harmony in their hearts and not a spear in sight.

Because Solene had discarded it at the practical begging of the Tree of Harmony to try something else. Luna followed his eyesight and smirked at the memory of the swears her sister invented to scream at the hunk of crystal. She imagined that even more swears were invented after she’d been sent to the moon.

“May I ask you a question?” Discord asked sullenly. Luna blinked and twisted back to him. Discord had landed on the floor and stood up straight, muzzle curled into a frown.

He never looks serious unless it is truly serious. “If there is a concern with my sister, tell me,” Luna urged. “I do not know the Amulet of Ra, but—”

“Not that,” Discord waved his paw, “just…kinda related?”

Luna scowled. “Speak.”

“So, uh, you’re sure she’ll get it out of her system?” Discord asked. “Go back to being her normal, cake-loving self and let Twilight take power?”

“Yes,” Luna groaned, “for fuck’s sake, she’s wanted to retire for years. Sunset was a bust; I assume because she saw too much of herself in the filly. Even at her worst, she was a drinker, warrior, and lecher. Not a tyrant. There’s a reason why ponies loved her.”

“I’m sure I’m worrying about nothing,” Discord waved his paw.

“It would take Sombra coming back again, or some other villain,” Luna chortled. “That stung: defeated in a few days again. But Chrysalis is in the winds and Tirek is in Tartarus. She’ll settle down after a few roller coaster rides. I’ll suffer through them as she suffers through plays for me.” The alicorn looked to the window and her smile softened. "We are sisters, after all."

Discord began to sweat. “Right…”

Luna noticed the look and ceased smiling. Her eyes settled into a cold stare. “Discord?”

“Let’s say that hypothetically—”

“Discord.”

“Hypothetically, someone may have assembled a hypothetical Legion of Doom to give Twilight some confidence and three of Equestria’s greatest villains are going to attack her coronation.”

Luna waited for the joke.

Discord stared at her. “There is no joke. This is just a hypothetical scenario that has no bearing on reali—”

She flung the half-melted kitchen knife left on the table into Discord’s stomach. He wheezed and grabbed it with a yelp. When he pulled the knife free, candy corn spilled out of the wound.

“That still hurts!” The knife transformed into a bat pony plushie that he hurled back at Luna. The alicorn ducked and it impacted the chair with a squeak, falling to the floor.

She stood and knocked the chair back, eyes wide. The starry mane and tail roiled. “Discord, what did you do?”

“I just wanted to give Twilight some confidence,” he whined. “Don’t stab me for it.”

“Who did you get?” Luna stomped a hoof and snorted. “Are they out there right now?”

“No, no, they’re fine,” Discovered waved his arms. “Useless, really. They don’t get along. But if your sister is running around with that spear again…”

“The sight of that should deter them,” Luna snapped. “Our greatest threats are ancient if they still live.”

Discord wrung his beard in thought. “That…might work on two of them.”

Luna’s eyes widened in realization. “Shit. You idiot, you have any idea how many times Celestia has ‘suggested’ going to look for Chrysalis during our retirement? She’s never let that go, and now the Brood Queen has beaten her twice more!”

“Chrysalis never brought it up that much,” Discord commented.

“Half her holes are wounds that never healed,” Luna deadpanned. “Who’s the other? Tirek?”

“Yeah,” Discord winced. “Uh, Scorpan’s not around, right?”

“Nay,” Luna rubbed the base of her horn with a hoof. “The final one?”

“Uh, a foal.”

Luna looked up at him incredulously.

“Hey, you put her in Tartarus.” Discord folded his arms.

“Should’ve realized she was slipping when she demanded that,” Luna muttered. “Okay, you have a trio of Equestria’s—I hesitate to say ‘greatest’ because one of them is a foal—but villains nevertheless in some remote location?”

“This is a hypothetical scenario.”

“I will find more knives.”

“There’s a cave.”

Luna nodded slowly. The Elements will be too distracted by the news of the marriage and Celestia. “We deal with this ourselves before my sister finds out.”

Discord snapped his talons and Grogar the Dread Goat appeared in his place. He scuffed a hoof on the tile. “They…uh, expect Grogar.”

Luna gave him a severe look of disappointment. “Really? One of Celestia’s kills? Couldn’t have gone with Maredusa?”

“Grogar’s a guy,” the goat protested. “You mostly fought mares!”

“I defeated the mad Poultrymancer.”

The goat’s red eyes burned at her. “Do either of us really want to reopen that door?”

Both stopped and thought about it.

The alicorn shook her head and refocused. “Okay, we have the element of surprise. We’ll swing through Ponyville, make up some excuse about a plot by Chrysalis, then you take us to the cave before Celestia finds out.”

“Right, they, uh, never even managed to find my—I mean Grogar's bell, so they’re not that competent.”

“You sent them after—” Luna cut herself off. “Okay. Okay. We take care of this and I won’t tell Celestia your part in this. I’d be concerned about being outnumbered, but one’s a foal.”

“Chrysalis talks to a plank of wood,” Grogar provided.

“Trot really did a number on her,” Luna mumbled.

The goat nodded with confidence. His voice switched back to Discord. “This could be a comic: Two former villains, out to defeat the Legion of Doom before evil overtakes—”

“Do not test me,” Luna warned. “I’m not as out of shape as my sister.”

The midnight blue alicorn flexed her wings and tensed her lean muscles. Luna wasn’t sedentary; her unique connection in the Dreamscape often translated to an intense workout regiment combating nightmares. She allowed herself a smirk. “Let’s hit them hard and be back for dinner, Chaos Lord. My sister will probably need an extra cake.”

“How difficult could it be?” Grogar laughed. He stamped a hoof and the pair vanished in a flash of light.

A Brochure for Seaward Shoals, Slightly Singed

Luna glowered at the ceiling through the golden bubble.

A lock of blue hair fell into her eyes, so she puffed it away.

It fell back into place. The alicorn finally shifted her pouting, folded forelegs and brushed her unkempt mane by hoof. It pooled against the side of the shield she was currently trapped in, matched by her slightly singed tail.

She returned to glowering at the rock ceiling, staring at stalactites. “They had the bell.”

There was no response from the bubble to her right.

Luna’s muzzle twisted and she bared her teeth at the ceiling. “They had the bell.”

“I didn’t know that,” a voice meekly answered.

Luna shifted an eye to glare. Discord laid like a limp noodle in his own bubble beside her, hovering a few hooves off the ground. His colors had partially washed out from his own depowering, leaving his fur and scales sepia toned. The draconequus refused to meet the alicorn’s eyes.

“Trixie is going to get Sunburst,” a mare said to Luna’s left.

The midnight blue alicorn turned to face that bubble, rolling on the magical surface she was suspended in. Seven ponies stared back, most in decent condition. Except the alicorn. The purple Princess Twilight Sparkle patted her mane with a hoof, mumbling to herself.

The cause of her distress was the large newspaper left slapped against the surface of the magical bubble. The front page depicted Princess Celestia in her wedding dress wrapping a wing around her husband, looking serenely sloshed under the light of her sister’s moon. Her husband looked prophetically terrified, and only slightly less drunk.

“Whoa nelly,” Applejack snorted, looking again at the paper. “She, uh, certainly had ‘er share of drinks, didn’t she?”

Twilight hiccupped with a giggle.

“Missed out on one great party,” Rainbow puffed. "If I knew Princess Celestia could throw a rager, I woulda wanted to go." The mare kept flapping around the bubble and attempting to punch her way out, but the magic simply flexed and shocked her. Being a pegasus, it was not much of a deterrent.

“When we get out, we gotta give the royal family a party!” Pinkie chirped. She laid on her back in the overcrowded herd. Fluttershy sat down next to her, trying to reassure Twilight. The butter-yellow pegasus made little progress with her reassuring back pats.

Rarity propped herself up on the side of the bubble. “Princess Luna,” she requested politely, “I must ask: How did your sister like the dress?”

“She liked it enough to be married in it,” Luna deadpanned.

“Did she speak to you about it?”

“Nay,” Luna frowned.

Rarity pursed her lips. “I suppose I can ask her when she gets here.”

“Trixie’s going to the Crystal Empire,” Starlight said again. “Flash Sentry is rallying the guard.”

Rainbow snorted above the unicorn.

“We aren’t going to lose!” Starlight snapped with a flushed muzzle.

Cozy Glow laughed outside the bubble. The ascended pegasus tapped her new horn with a hoof and grinned up at the three golden bubbles. Her horn glowed red and she resumed coloring in several sketches. “Magic sure is useful, huh?”

Grogar’s Bewitching Bell hung from her neck. The cracks in the side glowed with wisps of black, foul magic. Cozy stuck out her tongue as she scribbled extra fountains of blood on her picture with a red crayon worn down to a nub. “Golly! Who woulda thunk that Mister Grogar was really Discord?”

Luna shifted her glower back to Discord. “You did not expect them to lie to you?”

“I usually don’t think things through,” Discord mumbled.

The cave shook. Pebbles on the large meeting table in the center of the room jittered from the aftershock of the impact. Cozy smiled, all teeth like a shark. She winked a red eye at the bubble. “Guess that means we’re good to go.”

“You think they won’t turn you?” Starlight tried. “They left you down here to watch us.”

Cozy pointed her wing at the unicorn. “Nuh-uh. Not gonna work after Miss Nightmare and Not-Grogar crashed the party. Gonna be honest, taking all of you out was even easier than I thought it’d be.”

The little alicorn shakily levitated up a few of her drawings. In one, Starlight was tied up in ropes above a pit full of sharks. The one beside it was a fake ‘Prank O’Rama!’ store that was little more than a large box held up by a stick. A little pink pony stumbled towards it with a dumb grin drawn on.

“Rude!” Pinkie sputtered, “I probably wouldn’t have fallen for that!”

A third drawing of Rainbow Dash caught in a giant net with a shocked look on her muzzle floated up. The pegasus punched the side of the bubble again. “You aren’t getting away with this!”

“Uh, we already did?” Cozy laughed. “Just one to go!” She stamped a hoof and all the papers fell except for the newspaper of Celestia’s wedding. “Gonna be honest: Doesn’t look like much of a fight…”

“Equestria will still beat you,” Applejack snorted. She held onto her half-burnt hat protectively. “Ponies will stand together.”

“Yeah!” Rainbow added.

“Plus, Princess Cadance and Shining Armor will come!” Starlight shouted.

Luna frowned. “Excuse me? My sister is still—”

“The one that didn’t even fight Mr. Tirek?” Cozy giggled. “The same one that lost to Chrysalis twice?” The filly flapped her wings as her horn glowed red again. “I could take her, but somepony needs to keep an eye on you.”

Luna narrowed her eyes, and her expression moved to the Elements of Harmony. And Starlight. None of them met her piercing gaze.

Coyolxauhqui bared her teeth. “Filly…any other day I may have agreed with you, but my sister is not having a good day.”

“That’s obvious.” Cozy rattled the newspaper and it made the broken bell around her neck wobble.

“Nay,” Luna shook her head. Her stare softened and she looked to the Elements. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Princess,” Rarity assured her.

“I was never as good a fighter as my sister,” Luna whickered. “That remained true even as I was corrupted.”

“SHOW YOURSELF ‘PRINCESS CELESTIA.’ SHOW YOURSELF AND FALL.”

Tirek’s voice boomed out from somewhere beyond the cave. The entire cave rattled, loose stones shaking on the floor. “Oh, he’s really powered up,” Cozy laughed.

“You shall make an excellent battery,” Chrysalis added in an oily hiss. “Canterlot is already mine.” Her voice was nearly unrecognizable, thrumming in multiple tones with echoes of magical power.

“Sounds like she’s gotten quite the feast,” Cozy remarked. She returned to her doodles, humming some song to herself.

Twilight Sparkle finally found her voice. “You…you won’t beat Equestria. Even if you beat Princess Celestia, ponies will unite in friendship. You will fail.”

“STOP HIDING.”

“Filly,” Luna sighed, “today you do not have to beat Princess Celestia. You have to beat my sister.”

“What’s the difference?” Cozy chuckled.

“Coward, are you afraid to face your betters?”

“COWARD, WHY DELAY? WE ARE INEVITA—"

Tirek’s voice cut off with a high-pitched shriek that echoed across the entire landscape. Several stalactites broke free and fell to the cave floor, shattering. Every occupant of the cave clapped appendages over their ears.

Except for Luna and Discord. Luna laid sedately on the bottom of the bubble with half-lidded eyes. Discord’s paw drifted lower as he laid in a pooled noodle. Cozy dropped her crayon as her horn blinked out.

She went low, Coya huffed in her mind. Crom’s Mercy, she has to stop stabbing low.

“YOU BITCH!”

Tirek’s broken, high-pitched voice tore across the landscape. Several blasts of magic reverberated, and every occupant in the cave gasped except for two. Another blast responded, not chiming with magic but the roar of fire.

"Scorpan isn't here to beg for your life."

The new voice was a haughty mare with a self-centered smirk clearly audible. A peal of laughter followed another blast, braying with confidence. It was not as deep as Tirek’s, nor as thrumming as Chrysalis’ hiss. It was both a new voice, and very, very old.

Luna looked to the seven ponies in the bubble beside her. “I am so sorry for what you are about to hear.”

“I WILL GRIND YOUR BONES INTO PASTE.”

“Bold talk for a one-balled centaur.”

Sounds of apocalyptic battle echoed above the cave. A neigh of pain was under the roar of a fireball, followed by Tirek’s wild snarl and a crack of magic. The ground shook, and whatever impact occurred was severe enough to cause a split in the ceiling. Another high-pitched scream echoed and wavered into a sob.

“Correction: no balls.”

Chrysalis’ war shriek followed another neigh of pain. Cozy Glow didn’t notice. Her eyes were very wide as she stared blankly ahead, crayons forgotten. Luna spared a look at the overcrowded bubble. The ponies inside were quiet. Rainbow Dash ceased flapping and landed atop Starlight and Applejack, but neither complained.

“Going for a new look?” Chrysalis laughed. “Or a very old one, Helia?” A zap followed, splitting off into multiple sounds and refracting as the blast was deflected. Two blasts of mismatched magic melded below a long, low roar of effort as Luna’s sister struggled to shield herself.

“I…I WILL KILL YOU.”

Tirek’s voice had lost most of his confidence, though that was understandable. It wavered despite the clear power simmering behind it. There was a heavy impact that left another crack in the ceiling. Most of the pictures had long since scattered across the cave, and all the collected knick-knacks gathered by the Legion of Doom were gradually covered in falling dust.

There was a brief silence after a rattling impact. Somewhere above, a mountain collapsed in an tumbling avalanche. The noise gradually faded and all was quiet.

“Well…” Chrysalis’ voice was breathless in all its tones. “I must say, that flank could truly launch—”

A blast tore through rock, then Chrysalis wailed with all her voices in response to a single savage snarl. There was another impact that shook the cave, then another, then another. Finally, Luna’s ears perked as Xiuhcoatl sliced flesh with a rending tear and low, heavy moan.

“Stick around.”

“Y-you…” Chrysalis’ weakened voice stuttered.

“You appear to be missing a flank. No Hayctor to save you, Brood Queen. No wooden pony.”

A whoosh of magic was followed by a scream of indignant rage. Several wild blasts of fire rolled over desperate, echoing squawks. The ground pounded and the bubbles wobbled mid-air in the cave below.

“YOU SICK MONSTER!”

The magical blasts faded away, and an utterly flat promise rolled across the sky in response.

“You’re next.”

The clash resumed. The laughter was not so braying now, but it continued with every hard strike; Low, fiery chuckles of somepony truly enjoying their work. The magical blasts and shudders began to slow in retaliation, and Luna winced with every thunk of a spearpoint making impact and gradually weaker screams.

Oh, please don’t let all of Equestria be watching this.

The noise abruptly stopped after a growl of inarticulate rage and a choking gurgle. A thud reverberated as a massive body fell to earth with a triumphant whinny trailing the fall. Luna felt the magic rush around her and all across Equestria, returning to all those who Tirek had stolen from.

But that also meant that the vow to the long-dead Scorpan was broken. Luna’s muzzle furrowed and she closed her eyes. I’m sorry, friend. She opened her eyes to stare down at Cozy Glow, who still sat at the circular rock table with outstretched wings. The little would-be alicorn had almost stopped breathing, holding the bell between shaking forelegs.

Luna glanced at the similarly stunned ponies in the bubble beside her. She returned to Cozy. “Foal.”

The filly did not hear her.

“Foal,” Luna repeated with more urgency.

Cozy finally snapped to attention. Her red irises hid pinpoint pupils.

“Run,” Luna ordered.

“I-I have the bell,” Cozy held it up. “I have the b-bell.”

“Do you think those cracks in it came from Gusty?” Luna nickered. “Leave. Now.”

Cozy took a deep breath and her wings fluttered.

The ceiling exploded.

The blast startled the seven ponies back into awareness and they whinnied as one. A cloud of dust blocked everything from view, and Luna registered the small alicorn back up against her hovering bubble. The sound of falling rocks settled into a silence; dust hung in the air.

Metal scraped on stone from within the cloud. It kicked up a flurry of sparks. Raspy breathing picked up, then an awkward, stumbling gait. For one moment, Luna thought Chrysalis made it back to the cave.

And then Huitzilopochtli staggered out of the dust storm, dragging Xiuhcoatl with a wing pressed against her side. The difference was in the stance, a swagger despite the heavy limp and a smile that was more a baring of teeth than an attempt to be friendly. Luna’s breath caught at the sight of her sister’s injuries.

Her right eye was swollen shut and crusted with blood. Her pink, braided mane was mostly charred away, and what remained was streaked with red and green blood in equal measure. Her tail was almost entirely gone, similarly blackened with close calls. Her left foreleg was twisted, having been snapped back into place after a clean break; the left wing was also dislocated and twitching.

Her white fur was pink with splotches of green. A gash covered her left cutie mark, and blood spilled over the happy sun. The golden tiara atop her smoking mane was partially melted and stuck to her head. A single magenta eye burned, fixated on the filly backing away from the monster limping towards her. The bloody spearpoint trailed fire atop the shattered table, then the floor.

“Foal,” Huitzy spat in the old tongue. “I should have known…” The eye caught the bell and the taller alicorn smiled wide with bloody teeth. Luna noted the blood was green on her molars. “Grogar. Heh, did that old goat survive without his intestines?”

Cozy Glow shook the bell, though it was impossible to tell if it was intentional. Her forelegs trembled too badly. The magic tolled across the cave and washed over Huitzy.

The amulet around her neck blazed with fire and Luna’s sister breathed in with a ragged cough. The air grew hot even inside the prison bubbles. Huitzy gripped the spear to her side and twirled it with a deft wing and right hoof. Blood flicked off the spearpoint. The Amulet of Ra shielded her from the Bewitching Bell and Tirek's magic with its own power.

“I don’t need magic, foal,” Huitzy mocked with a rasp. “I did not need it the first time, though Gutsy may have gotten the kill.” She offered a single huff of laughter. “She was good enough in bed to take the credit.”

Coya thanked Crom her sister was still speaking their old language.

Huitzy’s eye wandered above Cozy to Coya. Her grimace turned into a lopsided smirk, though with the bruising along the right side of her muzzle she may have genuinely been attempting to smile. Luna noted the pink, tribal swirls mostly hidden by the ash and blood on her sister’s forelegs: her sister's old war paint freshly applied.

Luna swallowed years of conflicting emotions as she regarded the sister she remembered. She was not Huitzilopochtli; she did not have the frame of solid muscle, and the years had given her long legs and wings and a sharp, pointed horn. And yet…

“Coya,” Huitzy puffed. “Saved you this time, it seems.”

“So it seems,” Luna returned in Ponish.

The one magenta eye rolled in mock admonishment. “Of course,” Huitzy drawled in Ponish back. She turned an eye down to the filly below Luna.

“You escaped Tartarus?” Huitzy asked with some genuine curiosity. She did not wait for the answer. “I did too, once. To see if I could. It was a bet.”

Cozy trembled. She clutched the bell against herself, straining the cloth keeping it attached to her neck. Her horn flickered with red magic.

Huitzy gripped the spear to her side, glaring down her bruised, bloody muzzle. “I saw myself in you. If you want Equestria, it’s yours if you can claim it.” She crouched, growling as her broken leg protested. “Pry the crown off my skull, foal. I was your age when I first killed a pony.”

Cozy took a deep, shuddering breath as her horn flared.

And then her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell onto her side with a squeak.

Huitzy frowned, then flipped the spear around and poked the filly with the spear butt. Cozy rocked slightly from the touch, but was not roused. The last alicorn standing snorted in derision. “Mediocre.”

Oh, thank Crom, Luna prayed.

Huitzy spun the spear back around and jabbed the sharp point downward at the filly’s throat.

“Sister!” Luna flung herself against the bubble.

The point gently cut the ribbon attaching the bell to Cozy’s neck, then snagged the bell by the large crack running through it. “What?” Huitzy snapped. “I wanted her in Tartarus, not dead. Stop being dramatic.”

Huitzy tied the bell to the charred remnant of her mane with a quick flash of her horn, leaving it hanging forlornly. The oppressive heat in the cave faded as the amulet of the sun around her neck ceased to glow. Luna breathed in as more magic returned to her; her mane sparkled and began to blow in a non-existent breeze.

Discord perked up as color returned to him. He turned, desperate, pleading eyes to Luna before risking a look at her sister. “H-hello, Celestia.”

Huitzy snorted. “Trying to be the hero and make up for Tirek?”

“Uh,” Discord pulled on an invisible collar. “Yes?”

The sun alicorn made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, then stabbed Xiuhcoatl forward and popped his bubble. The Lord of Chaos fell apart on the floor, then the pieces wiggled back together and reassembled themselves. He hunched over, refusing to meet her unbruised eye.

“Discord became aware of the threat and alerted me,” Luna attempted to lie. Her sister bobbed her head in acceptance. “We think Chrysalis must have broken the others out of Tartarus.”

“Bah!” Huitzy snorted. “Should’ve hunted her down in the wastes instead of tending to court the last time.”

“I doubt she’ll be a problem anymore,” Luna said dryly.

Huitzy grumbled something, then twisted around to her sister.

Discord sighed in relief.

The alicorn abruptly twisted back and jabbed the spear low. “133!”

He yelped and covered himself as the spear point stopped too close for comfort.

Huitzy whinnied with a booming laugh. “Can’t take a prank?”

“Were you ever actually taken by my magic?” Discord asked back with folded arms.

“Of course,” Huitzy winked. She lazily slapped the spear against Luna’s bubble and popped it. Luna descended with flapping wings and landed gracefully on the floor. She eyed her sister’s injuries and winced.

“Sister…” Luna whispered.

“I’m fine,” Huitzy lied through her teeth.

Coya snorted and kicked her big sister’s broken leg. Impressively, Huitzy only bit her tongue and breathed in raggedly. Her wing nearly dropped the spear, so she slammed the enchanted haft into the cave floor.

“Sister…” Coya started again.

“I’ve had worse,” Huitzy managed with gritted teeth.

“How many centuries ago?” Coya retorted dryly.

Huitzy plucked the spear free and limped over to the last bubble rather than reply. She twirled the spear between her right hoof and her good wing. She finally looked up at the ponies just before she popped it.

And Luna watched Huitzilopochtli become Celestia. The swagger collapsed, the wing drooped, she brought her neck back in a cringe and turned her remaining eye away as it lost all wild energy and mirth. The spear point gently tapped the bubble and the ponies collapsed into a disorganized heap before their Princess.

Starlight stood up first, followed by Rarity and Rainbow Dash, then Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Applejack. Twilight Sparkle laid on the ground, legs straight and pointing up. Applejack rolled her over and propped her upright with a huff, waving a foreleg in front of the Princess of Friendship’s dilated eyes.

Twilight did not respond except for a series of sputtering sounds.

“Shame Spike went with Trixie,” Rainbow mumbled. “Bet he had a trick to fix her.” The pegasus flapped her wings and backed away in the air, eyeing the bloody spearpoint with nervous eyes.

Celestia watched the newspaper flutter to the ground, then dropped the spear down atop it with a clack. Her long neck bent forward in awkward embarrassment. “H-hello, my little ponies.”

Her little ponies stared up at her in varying states of incredulity.

“I suppose you have questions,” Celestia said softly. Even her voice shifted, becoming higher-pitched and calmer. There was still an undercurrent of strained tension and slight warble as she leaned less weight on her broken leg. The seven ponies stared at her, though in Twilight’s case she stared through Celestia at nothing in particular.

“I’m sorry,” Celestia apologized.

“Wait,” Rainbow rasped. She waved her forelegs through the air in a stopping gesture. “Wait, wait, wait. You had a spear this whole time?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In storage.”

“In the Royal Vault,” Luna corrected.

“Storage,” Celestia repeated.

“Your leg is broken,” Fluttershy interrupted. “And that wound above the cutie mark needs stitches.” The pegasus shoved her way forward with her wings, staring critically at Celestia’s bent foreleg.

“I…” Celestia paused. “I reset the bone.”

“That’s not how bones work,” Fluttershy answered. She took a deep breath as her wings fluttered. “I need a medkit.” She looked around the room, now covered in dust and debris. A shaft of sunlight spilled in through the massive whole in the roof of the cave.

Fluttershy trotted to Cozy Glow and laid a wing on her head. She hummed in consideration. “She’s out cold.”

“Flutters?” Rainbow asked nervously, “uh, you’re taking this…well…”

“I’ve fully disassociated from what just occurred,” Fluttershy returned serenely. She turned a soft smile up to Princess Celestia. “I’m not even going to try to fucking deal with that beyond what I know: medical aid. You’re on your own, girls. Sorry.”

Rainbow Dash’s wings beat out of sync for a moment.

“I’m sure there’s a medical kit somewhere that Chrysalis stole,” Discord ventured as he wrung his mismatched hands. “Lemme help you look.”

“That would be wonderful,” Fluttershy smiled. Then the smile abruptly fell. “And we can talk.” Discord looked between Celestia and Fluttershy, then slowly walked into a side cave with slumped shoulders. The pegasus followed him out of sight.

“Uh…” Rainbow restarted. “Uh, o-okay. Right.” She shook her head. “Right! You’ve just been some…some kind of awesome warrior princess this whole time?”

“Not exactly,” Celestia winced.

“Why did we have to deal with everything!?”

“Less collateral,” Luna and Celestia said in unison. The sisters traded a glance.

Rainbow took in Celestia’s injuries, cringing at the clearly dislocated wing. The Princess followed her look, then leaned her head back and grabbed her wing joint with her mouth. There was an audible pop and full-body shudder from Rainbow and the alicorn.

The wing flexed stiffly. Celestia turned her head back to Rainbow with a grimace. “I’ve had a lot of practice. Never liked wings.”

“Wait,” Rarity interjected, “I thought you were a unicorn? One of Star Swirl’s students?”

“I had a horn by the time I met Star Swirl,” Celestia admitted, “and I was his student. It took me many years to properly raise the sun.”

“You were an awful student,” Luna added. “I’m surprised the Pillars still talk to you.”

“We agreed to leave our past…dalliances in the past.”

Rarity’s eyes widened. “Sweet, uh, never mind.” She sputtered for a moment. “Star Swirl? Did…did…”

“He wasn’t my type,” Celestia denied.

Pinkie hopped forward. “All these questions and nopony’s asking the obvious one!” She rolled her eyes at the others, then peered up at Celestia. “Who are you?”

Rainbow folded her forelegs and squinted. “You think she’s Chrysalis?”

“No, silly!” Pinkie said up to the pegasus. “I’m Pinkie Pie the party pony, but on the old rock farm I was Pinkamena Diane Pie, the fuddy-duddy rock farming filly.” Her bright blue eyes returned to Celestia. “So who are you?”

“I am Princess Celestia of Equestria," the alicorn sighed.

“Before that?” Pinkie asked knowingly. The alicorn thought, then began haltingly.

“I am Celeste, sole Princess of Equestria.

“I am Soleste, Queen of Equestria.

“I am Solene, Diarch of the Day.

“I am Helia, Queen of the Kingdom of the Greater Equestria.

“And I am Huitzilopochtli of the Hummingbirds, daughter of Tonacatecuhtli and Warmaster of the Earth Ponies.”

Applejack raised a brow. “You were an earth pony?”

Celestia nodded.

The earth pony glanced at Luna.

“Nay,” Luna shook her head. “I was born a pegasus named Coyolxauhqui. We are only half-sisters—”

“We are sisters,” Celestia spat with sudden heat. Her ears pinned back. “I’m sorry. We are sisters. We have been from the start. There is no 'half.' I did not proclaim it atop the corpses of Platinum’s mages for it to be undone with semantics. I promised.”

Luna suppressed a smile.

“Excuse me?” Rarity blinked. “I’m…wait…how old are you?”

“Four calendar systems and Discord’s reign leaves time unreliable,” Luna explained. “I was born twenty-one years before the Hearth’s Warming; my sister is six years my elder.”

“You fought Platinum?” Applejack snorted. “That ain’t in the play.”

“No,” Celestia said flatly.

“And isn’t Helia a myth?” Pinkie asked. “She’s from Trot and Odyssey’s Adventure. The Flank—”

Luna drew a wing across her throat from behind Celestia, rapidly shaking her head.

Pinkie, for once in her life, did not finish that thought. “Grannie Pie read me that as a filly. It’s a classic.”

“Trot was real,” Celestia sighed. “Chrysalis impersonated me and led the city to ruin. It took a long war to destroy her brood, and a longer trip home as Discord ravaged the land. That is how we found the Elements, and much of Old Equestria passed into legend.”

“So,” Applejack clicked her tongue. “How much of history is a lie?”

“Things occurred as they were written,” Celestia retorted. “But it was not the whole story.”

“That’s lying.”

Celestia squeezed her eye shut. “Tell me, is the tale of Hearth’s Warming improved by knowing Platinum was a slaving bitch out to claim all earth ponies as her property? That Hurricane only ceased his raids after we killed enough of his warriors?”

Her voice turned mirthful. “That he challenged me to a wrestling match to soothe his wounded pride that led to a bedroll?”

“You and Commander Hurricane were lovers!?” Rainbow abruptly squealed.

“No,” the alicorn snorted, “I fucked him. There’s a difference.”

Rarity nodded in agreement, though fur paler white than usual.

“So Hearth’s Warming was a bunch of junk!” Starlight scoffed.

Celestia turned her piercing eye on her. “The Windigoes were real. But we only negotiated after we bloodied each other to the brink of destruction in falling snow and cold winds. It was meant to be a tale of hardship and hope, not death. Let alone what we did to preserve that peace afterwards.”

“I poisoned Chancellor Puddinghead,” Luna revealed. “And poisoned Pansy’s blade when Hurricane dueled her for the fate of the Armada. She never knew how her timid cut killed him, and the guilt left her bereft for the rest of her life.”

Starlight wilted back down.

Celestia turned to Applejack. “Yes. I lied. I lied about much in hopes that my sister would return to a world that was truly what she always dreamt of. An Equestria that had left its past behind and all were welcome to love. I could not build it as Huitzy or Helia…so I built it as Celestia.”

Luna’s ears flattened. “Sister, I never asked you—”

“You asked me many times,” Celestia countered softly. “I was often too drunk or…otherwise occupied to listen. It was only after I lost you to my stupidity that I truly heard your voice. I’m so sorry, sister.”

Luna approached Celestia and nuzzled her. She nuzzled the bruise and black eye, and accidentally got blood all over her blue fur. Both alicorns pulled back with winces.

“Most ill-thought,” Luna admonished herself.

“Yes,” Celestia agreed.

Applejack groaned. “Alright, I…ugh.” She flapped her burnt hat atop her ponytail. “Hayseeds and horseshoes, can’t rightly condemn sisterly love. Even if it’s built on a foundation of dishonesty.”

“I’m sorry,” Celestia apologized again.

Applejack and Pinkie shared a look between them. “You were an earth pony?” Pinkie asked in confirmation.

Celestia nodded with a frown.

The two earth ponies hoofbumped, then Pinkie threw her forehooves up. “Yes!” she whinnied. “Aw, yes! Representation!”

“You coulda said something,” Applejack admonished. “Thought you were both unicorns, or born alicorns, or some weird shit like that.”

“Once I realized the unicorns thought I was always one of them it was easier to say nothing,” Celestia admitted. “You know how hornheads are.”

“Don’t I know it,” Applejack said wryly. Her muzzle turned serious. “You gonna say something before you retire. Give earth ponies a win. Do that, and I'll forgive and forget about everything else.”

“Thank you,” Celestia accepted.

“Come on, Pinks,” Applejack nudged Pinkie. “Let’s subdue little miss wannabe alicorn.”

Pinkie withdrew a length of rope from her mane and a pair of hoofcuffs. She winked up the Celestia. “You’re cooler now that I know you’re not a virgin.”

“You thought I was a virgin?” Celestia grimaced. “I don’t seem like a virgin, do I?”

Luna wiggled her wing. “I thought having an all-stallion guard force at the castle that you never indulged in was some sort of self-flagellation.”

“Like the Tantabus?” Celestia scowled.

“A fair riposte,” Luna stated gracefully. Pinkie giggled while Applejack quickly trussed up Cozy Glow and set the filly between them. She remained unresponsive and breathing shallowly.

Celestia turned to Rarity. “I greatly enjoyed your dress and I owe you another.”

“I have seven,” Rarity responded absently. She refocused. “You truly liked it?”

“I did. I am slightly concerned how you acquired my measurements.”

Rarity danced on her hooves and ignored the implicit question. “Oh, perhaps I should be upset that you just confessed to several murders and lies, but you like the dress so I really don’t care.”

“I may have destroyed it in a drunken rage this morning.”

Rarity waved a hoof. “Happens to all of us.” She gasped. “Oh! Does the Prince need anything? I’d love to work with a stallion.”

Celestia grimaced. “We’re divorced.”

“Permanently,” Luna quipped. “No chance of reconciliation.”

“What a shame,” Rarity sighed theatrically, “but that’s stallions for you. I’m going to rub my horn in Applejack and Pinkie’s affairs, like a proper hornhead.”

“I apologize for the remark,” Celestia cringed.

“You have a horn; you can say it.” Rarity flipped her somewhat disheveled mane and sauntered off, humming a bridal tune. She slowed as she passed Luna, eying her like a manticore eyed a steak. Luna ignored the look. I could use a few dresses for the theatre.

Luna looked to the amulet around her sister’s neck. “May I ask about the other thieves?”

“Corporal Long Spear preformed ably in their apprehension,” Celestia answered. “Two are in custody with only a dozen broken bones between them.”

“There were three.”

“The unicorn named ‘Enigma’ decided she wanted a fight.” Celestia did not elaborate.

“Okay,” Rainbow huffed again. “You were some kind of badass. I still don’t understand why we had to deal with all that crap.”

“Tirek fell outside,” Celestia responded. “Thankfully, the fight was away from populated areas and ponies were either drained of magic or love so they didn’t see their Princess stab a several stories tall centaur in the balls.”

“Why did you go for the balls?” Luna sighed.

“His fault,” her sister snorted, and a drop of blood fell from her nose. “Should have worn armor there.”

Rainbow unwisely took the bait and flew out through the hole. Ten seconds later, she retched into the hole to the nickers of disgust from her friends. She wavered back into the cave with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Celestia apologized again.

“Woah,” Rainbow choked out. “Yeah, okay. I kinda wanted to know all the messed-up secret history, but was it all like that?”

Luna perked up. “It's not even secret history. When we went on our vacation, turns out the Cavern of Darkness is the mouth of a giant rockworm. Took Celestia a day to stab us a way out. She used to be able to do that in an hour.”

“Should’ve brought the spear,” Celestia grumbled. “Had to wash off in an underground river.”

“It was your idea to go there in the first place.”

Rainbow waved her forelegs. “You know what? I’m a stupid pony. I’m happier not knowing.” Her stare twitched. “Actually, which Pillars—”

“All of them except Star Swirl,” Celestia answered.

“At…at once?”

“Over time.”

Rainbow landed and deftly stepped over her vomit. “I’m gonna go check on Discord and Flutters. She’s probably done yelling at him.”

Celestia’s muzzle quirked as best it could with the bruising. “For what?”

Rainbow froze.

“For his terrible plan to stop the Legion of Doom,” Luna said smoothly. “Truthfully, I was no better.”

“Right,” Rainbow laughed awkwardly. “That’s totally what I meant.” She trotted towards the side cave at a quick canter.

Starlight stayed next to her mentor. Princess Twilight, missing all regalia, still pet her tail with twitching eyes. The light purple unicorn seemed to struggle with what intensity of glare to give Princess Celestia, or if she should even look her in the eye. Celestia cleared her throat with a cough.

“I am slightly disappointed that your imagined evil version of me is simply a rip-off of Nightmare Moon.” She dipped her head. “I still thank you, Starlight Glimmer. You taught me lessons I still unfortunately needed to learn.”

"Our sisterly conflicts have diminished in time," Luna agreed, "but they still needed addressing. Thank thee."

Starlight blushed. “I, uh, thanks. Can…can I ask something?”

Celestia waited.

“We traveled through alternate timelines because of my…uh…”

“You should have asked Sunburst to pin you to a table.”

“We’re just friends!” Starlight yelped unconvincingly. “That’s all that was! But I never saw…uh, a Celestia like you.”

“Did you speak with many of me?” Celestia asked.

“Uh, none.”

“I figured. If they had my history, they would have killed you where you stood for your folly.”

Starlight gulped.

“I would ask that you intercept your friend and reassure her that Equestria is saved,” Celestia requested. “And perhaps Captain Sentry as well. Princess Cadance will only croon 'I told you so.' She always sensed the conflict in my heart and encouraged me to 'live a little.' I'm sure this wasn't what she was thinking of, however.”

The unicorn vanished with a snap, leaving a near-catatonic Twilight alone. Luna sensed the ponies in the cave stop and look between the Princess and her Faithful Student. Celestia bit her lip and limped forward.

“Don’t touch me,” Twilight finally hissed. She recoiled back from the other alicorn with twitching wings. Her horn sparked and a shield descended around the three alicorns, cutting off the outside world.

Celestia shut her eye. “I’m sorry, Twilight.”

“For what?” Twilight spat. Her voice shook. “That all of history is a lie?” A hoof stabbed at the spear next to the bloody alicorn’s hooves. “T-that’s the Staff of the Sun Serpent. Or it should be. What’s the real name?”

“Xiuhcoatl,” Celestia whispered.

“A dead language. The oldest language in Equestrian history. Whatever that means.” Twilight laughed, and it descended towards a sob before she recovered. “What about that amulet? A gift from King Darius. Is that true? It obviously does more than sunny days.”

“I killed him when he attempted to invade Equestria after Luna’s…” Celestia trailed off. “His death meant peace and a long-lasting relationship with the minotaurs. In time, we chose to forget and be friends again.”

“Or course!” Twilight’s voice pitched higher. “Of course! Did everything for your sister! The Princess is a crass, violent murderer. Can’t have that! What would ponies think?”

Celestia said nothing.

“You sent me after her!” Twilight hiccupped. “Make some friends? Why? Didn't want to take your spear and—”

Luna looked away.

Twilight jammed her mouth shut, but restarted at Luna. “A-and you k-knew! About all of it! I thought you were my friend!”

“I am your friend,” Luna said, pained.

“Friends don’t lie!” Twilight screamed at her. She turned the wild glare to Celestia. “Teachers don’t lie! Books don’t lie!” The purple alicorn wept into her hooves. “W-why?”

“Because I’m an awful Princess,” Celestia sighed. “And I made you one so you could be better than me.” Twilight looked up with tears in her eyes. Her sobbing made snot trail from her muzzle.

“Luna talked me into it,” Celestia whispered. “I was never that good at it, not even after a thousand years of really trying. You and your friends still taught me lessons I would have never learned on my own.”

“I saw you banish your sister,” Twilight mumbled. “You were a good Princess.”

“But I was a shit sister,” Celestia retorted. Her eye turned glassy. “‘Luna, it is your duty,’ right? I thought she was fucking around with me at first. Our relationship was long destroyed before that night.”

Twilight huffed. “You taught me to never say any of those words.”

“I thought it was improper in a nicer land.”

Twilight summoned all her strength. “You’re a bitch.”

“Yes,” Celestia chuckled. Her wing jittered and she breathed in sharply.

“Sister?” Luna frowned. “Ribs?”

“A few are cracked,” Celestia gasped out.

“H-how are you even standing?” Twilight stuttered. She stared up at Celestia’s swollen-over eye and bruised muzzle. Her own muzzle twisted in concern, then indignation, then shame at her own feelings.

“I’ve had worse,” Celestia tried. Both uninjured alicorns gave her a flat look. “Fine. I’m running on sheer adrenaline and I downed a keg of the strongest beer I could steal to deal with the hangover. The adrenaline is starting to wear off.”

“Do you e-even like tea?” Twilight sniffled.

“I acquired a taste for it after three centuries of forcing myself to drink it,” Celestia nickered. “I traded vices. Alcohol for tea, and cake for…uh, well…the pleasures of flesh.”

"You eat a lot of cake," Twilight hiccupped.

"I had a lot of fun when I was younger."

“Those are hardly healthier vices, sister,” Luna stated with a toss of her head.

Twilight closed her eyes. “I don’t like looking at you like this. I don’t know if I want to hug you or hit you. My heart hurts.”

Celestia shut her eye and a tear trailed down the dried blood. “I’m sorry. It’s pathetic that it’s all I can say, but I am.”

“Was I just a r-replacement to you?”

“No,” Celestia vowed with sudden heat. “Never. You were never my replacement. You were always my successor and better. I never doubted you.”

Twilight’s muzzle twitched as she sniffled.

“I am proud of you,” Celestia whispered.

“Who’s saying that?” Twilight asked. “Which one? Helia? Soleste? My teacher?”

“Me,” Celestia answered simply. "I've always been me."

Luna laid a wing against her sister’s undamaged wing and looked to Twilight with clear regret. Twilight looked back with apologetic eyes. There was a long silence.

Finally, Twilight shuffled over and nuzzled Celestia's unbroken foreleg. Only slightly, because it was still bloody and covered in dust. She looked up and saw Celestia's smile; the same smile she had given her for years.

"T-thank you," Celestia stuttered through a closed eye.

“I can’t believe you got drunk enough to marry some random earth pony,” Twilight abruptly snorted. “I never got that drunk in my life.”

Celestia opened her eye. “You drink?”

“You think I write friendship reports about that?” Twilight half-chuckled. “Of course I drink. I lived in a library where nopony checked out books. You know how many Ponyville ponies actually like reading?”

Celestia blinked.

“The castle has fourteen self-stocking bars,” Twilight deadpanned. “Harmony apparently agrees with alcohol. I could host the most debauched post-coronation party in Equestria’s history.” Her muzzle turned sour. “Known history, I guess.”

“Ours was not that bacchanalian,” Luna denied. “I won the coin flip and organized it.”

Twilight took a deep breath. “I want to know. All of it. Every detail. And I’ll decide what Equestria should know.”

“Equestria was built on a foundation of hope and friendship,” Celestia said. “That was always true. I didn’t want the message muddled by all the violence in between.”

Twilight nodded, then visibly hesitated. “D-did you have to kill Tirek and Chrysalis?”

Celestia opened her mouth, then closed it and thought about her answer. “No,” she finally said in defeat. “I didn’t need to. I wanted to. It was a close fight, but I could have subdued them in other ways.”

“I’d be mad but I helped kill Sombra twice,” Twilight grimaced. “Guess they can’t hurt anypony anymore.”

“I didn’t kill Chrysalis,” Celestia stated. Her eye wandered. “She escaped.”

“Again?” Luna nickered. “Sister, I see the green blood on your teeth.”

“I bit her.”

“H-how…”

Celestia mumbled something.

Luna scowled harder.

“Chicken…”

Luna threw up her forelegs and reared in annoyance. “Sister, we have to deal with this absurd phobia!”

“I couldn’t be afraid of you so I pushed all the emotions onto that!” Celestia snapped back. Her eye widened in horror.

Luna shrunk down and bit her lip. It took her several moments to respond. “Truly?”

“If I had been a better sister that night—”

“The seeds had long been planted,” Luna denied. “Think no more of that.”

"It's all I thought about for a millennia," Celestia sighed. "I suppose I internalized all my guilt atop it as well."

Twilight waved her wings. “Uh, wow. Okay. You two are really f-fu…fucked up.”

The two elder alicorns quailed in unison. “Yes,” the sisters agreed in sync.

“I…” Twilight raised a hoof to her chin and tapped it. “I was worried about being a Princess and living up to the legacy, but honestly? This is such an unmitigated disaster that I can’t possibly do a worse job.”

“I’m glad my failures give you confidence,” Celestia coughed.

Luna glared towards the side cave. Glad your plan ‘worked’ Discord.

“You divorced your husband?” Twilight raised a judgmental brow. “And is ‘divorced’ a euphemism?”

“Yes and yes.”

“He was part of a plot to steal the Amulet of Ra,” Luna supplied. “Celestia being drunk enough to marry the first pony that was remotely amusing to her proved to be an unexpected wrinkle."

“Ugh,” Twilight grunted. “Well, maybe for the best. This is going to be Tartarus to clean up.”

Celestia paused. “I…I don’t follow.”

“I am not being coronated as sole ruler with a nation half-mad that Princess Celestia murdered a bunch of ponies and married a random loser,” Twilight huffed. “We’re cleaning this up.”

Luna tilted her head. “How?”

“Chrysalis kidnapped Celestia and impersonated her during the Gala and afterwards to weaken Equestria’s resolve,” Twilight said with confidence. “Then, Celestia escaped captivity and rescued us while the Legion of Doom turned on each other in an apocalyptic, violent battle.” She gave Luna a knowing look. “I am sure Discord will be willing to do corpse disposal.”

“Twilight, that’s incredibly deceptive,” Celestia admonished.

The purple alicorn glared up at her with a look of pure affront and indignation. “I said I’d decide what Equestria should know. Not dealing with this. Step one on my Princess checklist is a smooth transition of power.”

She stared outside the shield to the bundled up Cozy Glow. “I’m sure Cozy will go along with the story and a nice reformation to begin my reign. Or I could leave Xiuhcoatl laying around next to a picture of Tartarus.”

Celestia breathed in raggedly again. “I’m…where did you read—”

“Marechiavelli,” Twilight ruminated. “Wasn’t required reading when I was your student, but boy does she make more sense after today. I guess that's why you sponsored her back then.”

Celestia sputtered and focused on breathing with cracked ribs.

Luna smirked. “Fair Princess, you appear to have things well in wing.”

“No,” Twilight shook her head. “First, get Fluttershy to splint that leg and then get Princess Celestia medical help for all her injuries.”

The sun alicorn smirked painfully. “I assure you—”

Twilight stomped on her broken leg and fired a sleep spell into the taller alicorn’s muzzle when she collapsed in pain. The alicorn fell to the floor with a heavy thump before Luna even registered what occurred. Celestia’s eye rolled back into her head.

“Sister!” Luna gave Twilight a horrified look.

The purple alicorn picked up the bloody white alicorn and set her on her other side. Celestia’s breathing steadied. “Did you want to knock her out?” Twilight asked idly. “Sorry.”

Luna’s muzzle scrunched in anger. “That was entirely uncalled for!”

“She wasn’t going to go to a doctor.”

Fuck, she’s right. “Still!”

“And Celestia being critically injured saving Equestria’s heroes runs better with the press,” Twilight continued. “Also gives us a chance to clean her up so she’s less…bloody.”

Luna stepped back. “Did you just think all this through?”

“Yeah,” Twilight waved a wing. “I think fast. Are you onboard?”

“What happens if I say no?” Luna raised a brow.

“I bother you for all the historical revisions because you were there for a lot of them,” Twilight threatened. “And you’re probably a better source because you weren’t drinking or fucking through most of known history.”

Luna glimpsed a future of being hounded by scribes with purple stars on tall hats: a literary inquisition that would even infest the dreams of the world. Her wings shuddered. “Nay, We are ‘onboard’ with the plan.”

“Good,” Twilight smiled. Her horn glowed and the shield fizzled into sparks. She stood just as a thoroughly chastised Discord, Fluttershy, and Rainbow emerged with several medical kits from ‘Chaos Incorporated.’ Applejack, Pinkie, and Rarity sat beside a barely conscious Cozy Glow. Luna tossed the spear over to them, and Pinkie snatched it up with glee and waved it around at the terrified young pegasus.

“Listen up, ponies!” Twilight called out. “Here’s the plan…”

Luna listened, mute and numb, as Twilight Sparkle thoroughly planned out how to deceive Equestria off the tip of her hoof. Her friends nodded along as they tended to Celestia’s injuries under Fluttershy’s watchful eye. Discord vanished after summoning a yellow full-body hazmat suit with nary a complaint and several worried glances at the unconscious Celestia as 'Grogar' was mentioned with increasing derision.

The group broke after ten minutes. Twilight had removed the Amulet of Ra and wore it herself, keeping the magic nullified. The spear sat beside her, planted in the rock for safe-keeping. The Bewitching Bell was wrapped in the newspaper announcing Celestia's sudden marriage.

“Princess Luna?” Princess Twilight asked aloud. “Do you mind taking Princess Celestia to Canterlot General? Please stick to the script.”

“The script where I scream about Chrysalis?” Luna licked her lips. “That…”

Twilight glowered at her and began listing historical events on the back of one of Cozy’s drawings. She used the red crayon. The glow of her horn lit her eyes from above in the dark cave.

Crom, sister wanted a better successor and she fucking got one. Luna nodded rapidly. “Have no fear! We art a patron of the uh, arts!” Her horn glowed and she snapped away with a heavily bandaged Celestia atop her back.

The electric jolt woke the elder sister up. Luna felt her shift around and move her stiff, splinted foreleg. They reappeared in the lobby of the castle due to Canterlot General being overstuffed with fallen reporters. Celestia lifted her head; her mane had begun to slowly drift strand by strand, but it would be a long process before it regained its full power.

“Whuzzat?” Celestia drooled. “Did…did my s-student knock me o-out?”

“Yes,” Luna responded quietly. She affected a panicked look as the guards around the lobby registered the two missing princesses reappearing in ash and dried blood. “Play along,” she said out of the side of her muzzle.

“To the infirmary!” Luna belted out to the crowd. She galloped forwards before the guards could panic. “Mine sister hath been seized by the foul Chrysalis before the Gala!” Ponies gasped and whinnied.

“I knew she was acting weird!” a stallion called out.

“The Princess would never do that!” another guard cried.

“Of course the Princess would never marry an earth pony!” Blueblood snorted.

“Shoulda blasted him…” Celestia mumbled.

Luna carried her sister through the castle; Celestia’s legs nearly dragged on the floor and the younger sister audibly huffed. “I w-wish you just s-slept with the guards l-like a normal pony instead of gorging on c-cake.”

“It’s weird I’m like their mom to them.”

“I see their d-dreams.”

Celestia laughed slightly, though it was more a breathy wheeze. “Twilight h-hit me. She’ll b-be a good Princess.”

“She will,” Luna smirked. She turned a corner and galloped with a herd of guards trailing her.

“T-there’s more m-me in there t-than I thought.” Luna could hear Celestia’s smile. “I’ll let her have Xiuhcoatl. S-show her how to swing at Seaward Shoals.”

Luna skidded to a halt at an intersection. She glanced over her shoulder. “Sister, are you sure?”

“She might need it.”

Luna reached the infirmary. “For who? Chrysalis?”

“That bug is mine. Twilight c-can kick Opaline’s ass if she comes b-back.”