Rising Flames

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9

Chapter 1

1115 AF

Two years after the Battle of New Canterlot City

Emberglow awoke gently, like the petals of a flower unfurling in the light. The warmth of the silken sheets against her fur and camisole did not compare to that of her princess, who was also stirring from sleep beneath an outstretched hoof. Feathers shifted as mare and wife rose in sync, limbs pulling up and back, their bodies long used to rising at this early hour.

“Morning,” Emberglow greeted, smiling softly. Even with her mane bent and bunched up from the pillow, Rarity was still the most beautiful thing in the room. And their room, fit for royalty, had some of the finest furnishings in the palace.

“Not yet,” Rarity quipped. It was an old joke, but Emberglow would never tire of what came next.

Stepping onto the carpet, Rarity approached their bedside window, pink and purple pre-dawn light filtering through gossamer curtains. She lit her horn, and the moon fell, pushed below the distant horizon. At the same time, the sun rose opposite it, lifted aloft by Sunset from across the castle.

She still almost couldn’t believe that it was she herself who had touched the heart of such a divine pony.

This sacred ritual complete, Emberglow stood and stretched her back. After planting a quick kiss on her wife’s cheek, she headed off to their shared bathroom to take care of business and have a quick shower. She always went first, as Rarity’s morning routine took far longer. Meanwhile, she knew Rarity would usually spend this time double-checking her schedule for the day and picking out an ensemble. The work of a princess was never done. Except for today.

As she showered, Emberglow called out through the door. “I imagine you planned out your outfit for the grand opening of Sunset’s School for Gifted Unicorns in advance, right?”

“Of course,” Rarity confirmed, tittering. “I’m going for something more subdued. Wouldn’t want to take the spotlight away from the mare of the hour!”

That certainly made sense to Emberglow. Sunset had been working on getting a magic school up and running for a while now, both as a means of honoring the legacy of her predecessors and ensuring that many of the lost spells from her era didn’t stay lost. Even just finding and training enough competent teachers for all the requisite grade levels had been a struggle.

“Well, sure, but you are still going to be teaching there a few times a week,” Emberglow pointed out as she lathered shampoo into her mane and tail. “You’re entitled to some attention. In fact, how could anypony ignore you?”

Rarity laughed at that, figuratively waving the statement off. “Oh, darling, you flatter me. Teaching may not be my true forté, but it is something I grew to enjoy in the old days. I agreed to take up the Intermediate Magic and Spell Multitasking class only because Sunset insisted I was needed.”

“If you say so. I still think part of it was to have an excuse to interact with cute foals more often.”

A polite huff emanated through the door. “I shall neither confirm nor deny that accusation.”

Emberglow beamed softly to herself. Her wife could be so silly sometimes. Headstrong, too, especially regarding more personal topics. Like foals. But what couple never argued at all? They were still only equine. And they vowed to take the good times with the bad.

“At any rate, you’re going flying with Terminus today, I believe?” Rarity asked.

“Yes,” she replied, nodding automatically while she scrubbed. Working at the hospital for this long had ingrained her with a fast and thorough personal hygiene technique.

“And Heartwing still doesn’t mind you spending time alone together, hmm?” she posed, coy.

Rinsing off, Emberglow rolled her eyes, her smile widening. “Oh, stop. If you’re so concerned, you can ask them yourself at group therapy this evening.”

“‘Twas merely a jest, darling. I know the two of you are the last ponies in the Empire who’d be unfaithful. In the romantic sense, at least,” she clarified.

“Ha,” Emberglow chuckled dryly.

After finishing up in the bathroom, a very fluffy towel wrapped around her drying mane, Emberglow switched places with her wife, the two of them reaching out to touch wingtips as they passed.

Smiling upon hearing Rarity begin humming a cheery tune to herself, Emberglow got dressed and put on her hairpin. Then she sat down on the plush sofa, taking advantage of the free moment by grabbing her reading material from the crystal coffee table. It was the latest medical journal, covering some recent breakthroughs in non-invasive surgery. The Knights Radiant were finally beginning to incorporate the medical knowledge of unicorns and other races into their repertoire, despite pushback from those who would obstinately let their loved ones suffer rather than admit unicorn expertise had value.

She shook her head to clear it, not wanting to dive down that rabbit hole again. Honestly, after everything she’d been through, having a set routine again had done wonders for Emberglow’s mood. She and Rarity were busy, yes, but it was a good busy. The worst Emberglow had to deal with on the regular were cranky patients and awkward conversations with Radiants or her parents. A far cry from some of her far more hostile interactions with other ponies during the war.

Lost in her thoughts and the journal both, it took a hoof on her shoulder and a polite clearing of the throat to call her back to the present. She closed the publication and turned.

“How do I look?” Rarity asked, striking a pose. She had actually picked out a sort of educator’s look befitting the day, with a sleek charcoal gray skirt, lighter grey blouse, and a bright blue ascot. Her ‘casual’ silver tiara - not the one with her Element - still made her status clear.

“Amazing as always,” Emberglow replied.

“Flatterer,” Rarity tittered. “Now let’s go have breakfast.”

Side by side, they pulled open their doors to the hallway, where their long-time guards, Iron Shod and Crossguard, flanked the egress, at the ready with patient smiles. They followed Emberglow and Rarity at a close but respectful distance as they trotted down sparkling passageways to their destination.

The royal dining room, unlike the banquet hall, was a small, intimate space, lit with gently glowing wall sconces that sent orange firelight dancing across the rose quartz walls. The hardwood table was large, but not massive, with room for only a dozen pony-sized creatures. Empress Cadance and Princess Sunset were already chatting over their food at one end of the table, and Sunset waved hello as they entered.

“Hello, friends,” Emberglow greeted, settling atop a floor pillow. To her, these mares weren’t the unapproachable leaders of a nation-state, they were her dear, long-time companions. Their familiar faces were a comfort.

“Oh my, that looks scrumptious,” Rarity noted, eyeing the spinach quiche hungrily. Emberglow had to agree. In addition, there was a dish of sauteed crystal berries and toast as well as the usual coffee, tea service, and biscuits. Every day, the castle chef, Thorkell, proved anew that yaks were indeed best at cooking.

As Emberglow thanked Rarity while she served their portions with magic, Cadance looked towards them after dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

“Morning you two!” Sunset exclaimed after swallowing her bite of toast. “I was just telling Cadance how nice it is to finally be done with all the logistical headaches of setting up the school.”

“So you can get to the good part?” Emberglow asked as she sat down. “The actual teaching?”

“Exactly,” Sunset confirmed. “Plenty of foals look up to me already, and this is my chance to really connect with them and make a difference in their lives. Pay it forward, after what Celestia and Twilight did for me.”

Emberglow agreed one hundred percent. Someday she also wanted to pass on her medicinal skills to the next generation.

As Rarity cut out a small section of quiche, Cadance looked between them and Sunset, head inclined in a pointed gesture. “The relationship between a student and teacher is quite the fulfilling one, yes. Of course, that’s not the best kind, in my humble opinion.”

Sunset sighed. “Look, I told you before, I have no intention to start dating again at this point,” she insisted, pouting slightly.

“Well, I’m inclined to agree with Cadance, here,” Rarity said with a grin. “‘Tis a most worthwhile pursuit.”

“See?” Cadence declared, resting her chin on her hoof impishly.

Emberglow was too preoccupied enjoying the ripe berries to comment, but she did smile. Of course the wise old matchmaker would bring this up. After her long period of recovery, the empress was in peak health again, with an abundance of energy. She would never have expected Cadance to have such a mischievous side, but definitely didn’t mind her ensuing antics. Cadance had lost a great deal in her life, especially recently, so Emberglow was glad to see the impish joy of matchmaking replace her frequent sad, distant stare.

Princess Sunset was the only remaining creature in her immediate circle of friends who didn’t have or hadn't once had a life partner. Well, besides Oak Chips, and Emberglow was pretty sure he possessed zero interest in romance. Meanwhile, in addition to being royalty, Sunset was pansexual, she knew, so the mare had no shortage of interested parties to get to know better.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit preoccupied running an empire,” Sunset pointed out, with emphasis. “I get the most done on that front out of anypony at this table!”

“Well, yes,” Emberglow confirmed, “but that’s because you take your responsibility a bit too seriously, I think.” Feeling guilty about not doing enough to help was something she was very familiar with. “You need to keep your own happiness in mind.”

“Well said, darling,” Rarity confirmed, sipping her tea. “The Empress and I have gotten rather practiced at delegating to the right ponies; our subjects aren’t a bunch of children.”

Cadence nodded firmly. “You have nothing to lose and the world to gain!”

Under the kind yet insistent stares from Emberglow and her fellow alicorns, Sunset at last caved, rolling her eyes. “Fine, I’ll keep my eyes open. Happy?”

“Very much so,” Rarity replied primly, putting a pin on it by extending a wing to rest affectionately on Emberglow’s back, making an effective demonstration of what she was missing. Emberglow savored the contact.

The Empress’ smirk grew sly. “Just don’t try to bed any of your older students. That dynamic almost never ends well.”

Sunset nearly dropped her fork as she sputtered, a blush coloring her cheeks. “C-Cadance!”

Emberglow burst out into good-natured laughter.

It was a warm, pleasant day in the Empire. Thanks to the Crystal Heart, all days were warm and pleasant as long as love flourished. Creatures were now able to come and go freely across the Empire’s borders, which had expanded over the last thousand years. Though they could move freely, the polar winds could not, leaving the remaining air currents to be gentle at most. The city, therefore, was an ideal environment for long exercise flights. Here in the center of the city, plenty of creatures, both pegasi and griffons, were out and about, traipsing through the heavens.

Still, as much as she and her wife spent their time together, this was one thing Rarity often passed on, despite having earned wings. Though she reveled in flight, soaring at any significant speed ruffled her mane too much, she insisted.

Emberglow glided along through the air, the magic in her wings carrying her aloft. Even now, the simple act brought her joy. Idly watching the ground-bound residents going about their days, she made her way over to the humble set of condominiums where Heartwing and Terminus lived.

Built to accommodate those with mobility issues, each single-story home was built entirely flush with the ground. It made Heartwing’s life far easier. Cadance had of course offered the pair rooms in the palace after everything they’d done, but the structure’s ancient architects had been rather fond of staircases. Lots and lots of staircases.

When Emberglow arrived, Terminus was already waiting on the roof, stretching his wings. His movements were automatic, devoid of enthusiasm.

Hmm. Something was eating at him. She didn’t want to pry, but as long as she was there for him, hopefully he’d confide in her.

Emberglow waved down at the stallion to catch his attention, hovering in place. “Hi, Terminus. Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he said, cracking his neck. Not wasting any time, he leapt into the air to join her.

For a little while, they flew in silence, slowly rising higher into the sky and building up speed. Emberglow’s thoughts quieted, and she focused on the experience. Feeling the air rush across her feathers, the steady in-and-out of her breathing, just being.

“So, how are you?” Terminus eventually asked. “Anything exciting going on?”

The words pulled Emberglow back into herself. “A bit. Cadance finally convinced Sunset to start looking for somepony. And the school is opening up today.”

Terminus grunted in acknowledgement, matching Emberglow’s speed without visible effort. “Rarity doesn’t mind you missing it?”

“She says she’d be too distracted by my radiance to teach,” she admitted with a laugh. “Besides, I’ll be keeping her company during her dressmaking hour as usual.”

“Still only one hour a day for her cutie mark talent?” Terminus questioned. “Damn, and here I thought Heartwing was keeping too busy despite his 'retirement.' He’s been out most of the day dealing with some Discordant matters.”

Emberglow nodded sagely as her smile widened. “Such is the price we pay for marrying ponies in power.”

Terminus snorted. “Indeed.”

There was a lull, then, as they continued soaring along. They’d reached the outskirts of the city now, grown and built homes and workplaces giving way to close-packed acres of farmland. In the distance, the exterior of the glacier-carved changeling hive was just barely visible through the edge of the crystal heart’s barrier. Sweat was beginning to form beneath her clothes. Terminus, wearing nothing, did not have this problem.

Emberglow turned her good eye toward him, resuming the conversation. “So, any luck on your project? Topaz won’t be mad either way, but still.”

“A bit, sort of,” he admitted.

A while ago, Terminus had admitted to the Elements during group therapy that he’d been feeling listless without any soldiering to do. Cooking and housekeeping were entirely different kinds of work. So, Topaz had encouraged him to find a hobby he enjoyed. But so far, nothing he’d tried really clicked. Emberglow hadn’t realized it was weighing on him quite this much, but “sort of” meant he probably had good news!

“Care to share a bit early?” she asked, gently curious.

His ears lowered. “It’s not a sport this time. You’ll think it’s foalish.”

Well, that wouldn’t do. Time to reassure him, lighten the mood again. “I doubt it. My idea of a foal’s pastime was going to medical school, remember?”

At this, he grinned a little. “Okay, Emberglow. I’ve been setting up some model trains.”

She blinked, slowing down just enough that he overtook her. Not quite the answer she’d been expecting. “Model trains?” Emberglow echoed.

“Yeah. It’s… oddly familiar. Building and painting them is reminiscent of cleaning and reassembling a rifle, only with more little wheels.”

Now Emberglow was grinning along with him. The mental image that evoked - of solid, unwavering Terminus Flash hunched over a worktable carefully painting the Crystal Empire Express in its official pinks and purples - was both deeply incongruous and deeply amusing.

Terminus glared over his shoulder at her. “Don’t laugh. It’s a perfectly respectable pastime.”

Emberglow took a deep, careful breath. “I w-wasn’t going to,” she insisted, barely holding herself together.

In response, Terminus flapped hard to the side, hip-checking her. Emberglow yelped in surprise, her trajectory shifting a good bit away before she could course-correct and return to her former relative position.

Terminus scrunched his muzzle and sighed.

Her ears fell. Now Emberglow felt badly for reacting the way she did, but she couldn’t help it! “I’m sorry, Terminus. But you have to admit it’s a little funny. I was expecting something like yeti wrangling or blacksmithing.”

“Really? Blacksmithing?” Now Terminus was smiling again, to her relief. He rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you’ve seen a pegasus in a forge? My feathers would get all singed!”

“Good point,” she admitted. Wings required enough personal maintenance as it was. It was worth it, though, to feel the rush of air moving past her like this, faster than any gallop. “Still, I’m sure the others will be more composed at the news than I was.”

Terminus hummed in agreement. With nothing further forthcoming, their conversation lapsed back into silence. Emberglow went back to taking in the green pastures below. Though they were smaller than many farms in the Diarchy, the sight of so much cultivated land gave her renewed appreciation for all the hard work earth ponies did to ensure the people had full bellies. It was a beautiful thing to see everycreature contributing what they could.

Soon, they reached the point which had long marked the midway point of their flights: a tall grain silo of varnished wood. Emberglow banked into a turn, arcing around the structure as if it extended many times as tall as it was, Terminus matching her movements. Then, without preamble, he picked up speed, putting more energy into each of his wingbeats and pulling ahead.

Time for the real workout. Emberglow followed suit, and they powered their way back to the Empire.

After Emberglow returned home, sore in a good way, the rest of her day proceeded as usual, for the most part. Lunch, a bit of time to herself as Rarity handled matters of state, checking her mail for anything notable, keeping Rarity company in her workshop, and then dinner.

Now, she and Rarity were arriving at the cozy private lounge where Topaz conducted their regular group therapy sessions. Unlike most of the castle, the lounge was carpeted, and there were plenty of couches suitable for sitting and reclining. Cheerful landscape paintings hung on each wall, and a skylight ensured the room was naturally illuminated.

Lofty and Topaz were already present, sitting side by side. Topaz was totally in her element, chipper and ready to facilitate with a clipboard in one hoof and a pen capped with a yellow smiley face in the other. True would be with Empress Cadance, learning to read and avoiding any potentially heavy subject matters that the Elements might discuss.

Lofty raised a hoof as she and Rarity entered. “Hello, you two! Ready for another riveting discussion about our persistent anxieties?”

Topaz elbowed him in the ribs as Emberglow’s lips curled upwards. “Stop leading with that!” Topaz protested. Her friend wasn’t actually angry; Lofty did this every time. And it wasn’t even accurate anymore. Their sessions were now mostly just a way of staying in touch coupled with affirmations that they were now much better.

As Topaz had once told her, the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, when properly remedied with therapy and medication, could be mitigated or made to vanish almost completely. Emberglow was certainly grateful for that; no longer did she hear the voices of deceased ponies whispering lingering words of guilt into her ears.

Her failures had not brought her low; they’d strengthened her. Enough that she’d helped stave off eternal winter. Even Rarity insisted she was a worthy successor to Applejack, brushing off any denials of such on Emberglow’s part. The last, lingering wisps of pain in her heart were kept at bay with everyone’s help.

Emberglow was brought out of her musings and back to the present by a nudge from her wife, whom she immediately followed over to the couch across from the one Topaz and Lofty occupied. Exhaling in contentment, she shimmied herself into Rarity’s side, basking in her touch.

“You two seem to be doing well,” Lofty noted, mirroring her motion and adding a nuzzle to Topaz’s cheek. “I’d ask how your week was, but Heartwing and Terminus are a bit late.”

“I’m sure they’ll be here in a moment,” Rarity reassured. “Celestia knows we’re all busy ponies.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Topaz. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Emberglow nodded firmly in agreement. So long as there were creatures that needed her help, she would be there. And Topaz was of the same mind.

Nevertheless, as if summoned, a crystal guard - one wearing the livery of House Cadenza - pushed open the door to admit Heartwing and Terminus, the latter pushing the former in his wood and metal wheel harness. Emberglow did a bit of a double take when she saw the looks on their faces. Heartwing seemed quite troubled by something, judging by his serious frown and narrowed brow, and Terminus’ expression showed obvious concern.

She wanted to ask what was wrong, but held her tongue. Topaz would doubtless broach the subject during the session. Stepping on the expert’s hooves would be counterproductive. Instead, she just waved to them.

“Hi there, we’re all glad to see you,” Topaz said, maintaining her gentle, practiced smile.

Rarity hummed in agreement. Emberglow knew her more than well enough to tell that she was also struggling not to jump the gun. The tension in her wing was a giveaway.

Glancing at Heartwing, his lips pursing momentarily, Terminus replied, “We’re happy to see you too, friends.”

Topaz simply waited patiently, even as Lofty glanced sidelong at her, his own brow now creased with worry. Terminus helped Heartwing up and settle into the plush sofa on Emberglow’s left.

Only once Terminus himself was seated did Topaz begin. “Alright then! The six of us are all here, so let’s get started. Per usual, I’d like us to start off by sharing one word with the group which summarizes how you’re feeling. Today, I’m feeling hopeful. I hope that everyone’s days are going well, and that if they’re not, they can trust others in their lives to support them with love however they need it.”

Then she paused, tapping her pen against the clipboard before turning to Heartwing. “Heartwing? Why don’t you go next?”

Emberglow’s gut, as well as her experiences with Heartwing, told her this wouldn’t be a simple issue. Echoing Topaz’s sentiments, she faced the stallion, ears perked.

Heartwing took a long time to answer, meeting each of their inquisitive gazes in turn, as if to judge whether or not this was a matter he could freely share. Or perhaps whether or not he should. For the first time in a while, Emberglow couldn’t place the emotion behind his eyes. Sadness? Fear? Disbelief?

Eventually, he answered. “I’m feeling… disturbed.”

Emberglow tensed.

When he failed to elaborate further, Topaz - maintaining her patient demeanor - continued. “And why are you feeling 'disturbed,' Heartwing?”

Terminus wordlessly draped a wing over his partner's back in support, but it still took Heartwing a few very long seconds to answer. “There’s a rumor spreading like wildfire through the Diarchy at the moment. And if it wasn’t for the fact that so many of my clandestine contacts thought it substantial enough to report up the chain, I would have dismissed it out of hoof as blatant fabrication.”

Pausing, he sighed in concession. “There are rumors down south, unsubstantiated as of yet, that the Saints have returned.”

Many heartbeats passed as Emberglow processed this. She turned the idea over in her mind. But before she could voice just how patently absurd that was, Rarity beat her to it. “I’m sorry, Heartwing, darling, but could you repeat that? It sounded like you said the Saints were back.”

“Oh, they’re definitely not our old friends,” Heartwing elaborated. “Their actions aren’t even close to how any of them would actually react to being thrust into this disharmonious future of ours. Otherwise we’d be hearing of a major ruckus from the Diarchy and not just rumors. Pinkie Pie’s antics alone would trigger a witch hunt,” he added, chuckling at his own joke.

“Really, Heartwing, that’s not funny,” said Lofty, who stared at him in disappointment. “This is supposed to be a space where we’re genuine with each other.”

“He wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Terminus insisted, even as his own doubts flickered across his face. Topaz was furiously taking down notes.

“I mean, yes, but…” Emberglow trailed off. It was just completely unbelievable, for multiple reasons. Heartwing seemed to be genuinely concerned, yes, and she trusted his judgment, but in this case he had to be jumping at shadows.

Right?

To prove her point, Emberglow rested her head against her wife’s. “Rarity is right here. The real Rarity, back after a millennium of stasis. Not the made-up earth pony Rarity written as propaganda for the Book. You were the one who taught me the truth!”

“Exactly,” agreed Lofty, his concerned gaze shifting away from her and back to Heartwing. “And say what you will about the ponies living in the Diarchy, but if there's one trait they all share, it’s some level of stubbornness. Even now, they still live their lives by the Book of Saints. Those who don’t have pretty much all left by now.”

Emberglow nodded at that, her thoughts reeling at a breakneck pace. She no longer had a copy of the Book, but as she sifted through her memory, she couldn’t recall anything about a prophesied day when the Saints would return. They were ostensibly watching from on high with the Diarchs. So then how exactly were so many ponies so convinced?

Before Emberglow could voice these questions, Topaz beat her to it. “Okay, and what exactly makes these rumors so believable?” Even she couldn’t keep the confusion off her expression any longer.

Heartwing tapped his hoof against the sofa. “Just to be clear, I don’t believe them yet, either. It’s just that according to my Discordant, others are saying that they believe the Saints are back. Because there have been reported sightings of - and interactions with - all six at different locations. Each matches their popular depictions in Diarchy statuary and artwork. And there’s a second Rarity among them.”

“So there’s an earth pony with my figure prancing about, is there?” posed Rarity, nonplussed. “I’m sure her uncanny resemblance to moi is entirely coincidental and not, say, a changeling copying my likeness. Because that wouldn’t be the first time.” She peered at Heartwing in concern. “I’m sorry to dismiss your worries, Heartwing, especially now, but this is simply too far-fetched.”

Heartwing started to frown, but pushed it away. Terminus clutched him tightly. “No, no, I understand how this sounds. But it’s not that simple. What do you think the first thing any Knight Vigilant who met them did?” he posed. “Whatever they are, they’re not changelings, veiled beneath illusions, or wild magic clones. And supposedly they can perform miracles, or at least cast spells without horns or gauntlets.”

“Seriously?” The question slipped out of Emberglow, the pace of her breathing accelerating. Everything about this situation was unbelievable, and yet it was somehow happening. There was zero chance these Saints were real, of course. If that were the case, then… She looked at Rarity, focused on where their bodies met. Rarity caught her gaze, and squeezed her reassuringly with a wing.

No. That was beyond consideration.

“So they tell me,” Heartwing said in reply before going quiet. There was a silence as the five of them processed the news.

The more she mulled it over, the more Emberglow found herself coming to one conclusion: She had to fly down to the Diarchy and see these supposed Saints for herself. One way or another, she had to uncover the truth and confront these convincing imposters for what they were. She couldn’t abide the thought of anypony else misleading ponies back down the path of hate, nor giving her beloved a bad name, or her Element wasn’t Honesty.

“I can certainly see why this news would be troubling to you,” Topaz noted, studying Heartwing and the rest of them carefully, salvaging what she could of their therapy session. “How do you feel we might be able to help?”

“Investigate the issue ourselves,” he answered matter-of-factly, clearly on the same page as Emberglow. His eyes narrowed. “I won’t be able to rest properly until I nip this desecration of their memory in the bud. The Knights Discordant may be trained for this, but they don’t know these mares like we do,” he added, giving Rarity a purposeful look.

“Indeed,” she agreed, determination writ large in her voice. “This is something which absolutely demands our attention. The sheer gall.”

“That would mean going to the Diarchy, though,” Lofty pointed out, running a hoof through his mane. “And neither of you are exactly popular over there. It would be incredibly dangerous for Heartwing especially, given his physical condition.”

“They’ll be too busy paying attention to these ‘Saints’ to care, I wager,” Heartwing said. “And I won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Terminus confirmed. “No chance I’m not going with him. I imagine it’s the same for you, Emberglow?”

As if it even needed to be said. “Where Rarity goes, I go,” she declared with conviction.

“I would never leave you behind,” Rarity declared. Emberglow met her subsequent loving sidelong glance with one of her own.

Lofty shot them a smirk, only half-forced. “I’d expect nothing less.” Then his expression soured once more. “However, I still think you should leave this to the others, Heartwing,” he insisted.

“I agree,” said Topaz, gesturing to him. “The others can fly away if there’s trouble, but…”

“I’ve evaded their grasp for this long, my friend. What’s another day or two dancing with danger?” Heartwing quipped. “And Termie will be watching my back, as always.”

Terminus met Topaz’s eyes, conveying the fire within his own, and she relented.

Lofty, though, did not. “I’m still far from convinced that it would be safe for you to do this, Heartwing. What if I went in your place? I’m more than capable in a fight in case events proceed in that direction, and you can only use half your limbs! I’d be very worried about you.”

Heartwing pursed his lips at Lofty. “I still have centuries more experience than everyone else in this room, a working horn, and the skill to use it. I’ll be fine, as always. Dealing with the unpredictable is still my forté. Besides, think about the logistics for a moment. If you waltzed into New Canterlot with a spear and gauntlet, you’d be stopped and questioned immediately, whereas I can just wear a large hat or something to evade detection.”

“He’s got you there, honey,” Topaz said, nudging Lofty in the side.

Sighing in defeat, Lofty turned to face Emberglow instead. “Aren’t you going to object to any of this?”

Emberglow shook her head. “I’m worried, too, but I trust Heartwing’s judgment. As for me, my wife seems to be decided, and there’s no chance I’m letting the world lose another alicorn, especially not this one,” Emberglow declared, pulling Rarity closer with a wing and planting a kiss on her cheek.

She cooed appreciatively in response. “I don’t doubt it,” Rarity said. “Still, my new students are going to be rather disappointed. Alas, I am needed elsewhere. Somepony has to remind the ponies down south what a real Rarity looks like.” She flipped her mane for dramatic affect.

“Regardless, this information stays confidential until further notice,” Rarity continued, changing the subject. “I trust our guards to maintain discretion, but if this news reaches the general public in the Empire, it could cause a panic. I’m sure Cadance and Sunset will agree; they should be informed, at minimum.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Heartwing said. “It also wouldn’t do to have all six of us be absent at once, as that would be equally concerning. If your colleagues want to disseminate the news further, that’s their prerogative.”

Topaz’s ears fell. “I suppose there’s no stopping you, is there? In that case, Lofty and I can stay here,” she suggested. “I don’t believe either of us have as much stake in the matter, right honey?”

“I guess not,” Lofty admitted. “Besides, I realize we can’t just leave True alone with Cadance at the drop of a hat. We’re his parents. He needs us.”

“That leaves the four of us to investigate, in two groups,” said Terminus, his tail flicking in deep thought. He turned to Heartwing.

“We can prepare to fly tonight and leave first thing in the morning,” Heartwing suggested. Emberglow could practically see the well-worn gears turning in his head. “While I can’t predict their movements for certain, the best places to look will likely be Old and New Canterlot. Emberglow, you’ve been building a rapport with the Knights Radiant, so you and Rarity can head to the Canterhorn. Terminus and I will fly for New Canterlot City. Assuming that’s acceptable, Princess?”

Rarity straightened and met his gaze, the fire in her eyes matching his. “It is, Heartwing. Emberglow?”

“Yes,” she said. She certainly didn’t have any better ideas.

“We’ll make sure the nation doesn’t collapse while you’re gone, Princess,” Lofty joked. Though his smile was clearly just pasted on to conceal dire misgivings.

“That settles it,” Terminus said, rising from the couch to all four hooves. “Time to get our ducks in a row and get moving.”

“I guess I'll have to postpone this session for later, huh?” said Topaz, stowing her notepad. “Hopefully this is all just a huge misunderstanding and we can all meet up again next week for a double length one, yeah?”

“Hopefully,” Heartwing agreed, as he allowed Terminus to help him back into his harness.

“Good luck, and take care,” bid Lofty.

Emberglow almost said goodbye, but the nature of the situation made her pause. It felt too needlessly final, or so said her superstition. So instead, she just reached forward and swept him up in a hug. The others joined in, and soon all the Elements were trading embraces in turn.

No more words needed to be said. They left the lounge to make their preparations for this new mystery that awaited them in the Diarchy. She’d unravel it one thread at a time. Hah, even Rarity’s choice in metaphors was rubbing off on her.

As they walked, Emberglow cast a sidelong glance at her, and Rarity looked back, full of care.

Whatever fate had in store for Emberglow, she wouldn’t be facing these ‘Saints’ alone, and that was all she needed to know they’d be alright.

Author's Note

Eee, it's out at last! I'm so excited to see what y'all think!

That said, expect a three week wait for the next chapter, as this gives time for zombi's busy work season to wind down, and for the RP to develop some more. To paraphrase Shigeru Miyamoto, a delayed release will eventually be as great as it can be, and I want to do these characters - and this world - justice.

Chapter 2

The northern forests of Equestria, with their dark evergreen trees, mountain valleys, and small settlements, passed by far beneath Heartwing as he and Terminus sailed through the soft mid-morning light. Terminus was hooked up to his wheel harness via a pair of detachable steel tug lines, transforming it into a one-pony sky chariot.

It was just the two of them; Rarity and Emberglow had left later per his suggestion, so as to draw less attention from other pegasi by moving in smaller groups. He’d also prepared disguises, donning a thick but tattered hooded cloak to hide his horn and play the part of a tired old cripple, while Terminus wore an utterly ordinary shirt and trousers. If things went south, they would meet up at a safe house in burgeoning Old Canterlot.

Heartwing tried to be good company for Terminus, at first. Even if he couldn’t quell his own internal tension, coiled like a spring, Heartwing could at least try and keep his partner’s spirits up even slightly. But the situation was too serious, and Terminus continued to fly, focused, the silence between them a far cry from relaxed.

Trying to make one set plan with this many unknowns would be a fool’s errand, and Heartwing was no fool. At least not in the intellectual sense. If there was one thing all his experience had taught him, it was that some level of chaos was inevitable, but that chaos could be steered into the right direction.

He had one main worry which refused to leave his thoughts: What if the rumors were, against all logic, true? What if, by some miracle, his dearest love and source of strength had actually come back to life?

Chest twisting, he shifted anxiously. Would he freeze in awe, weeping? Spray fireworks from his horn and jump for joy, leaping into her forelegs? Be consumed by creeping, gnawing doubt about the rest of their new start together? All at once and more? Heartwing groaned, clenching his eyes shut.

No, it couldn’t be, Heartwing reassured himself, taking a deep breath. Surely, they were merely highly convincing impersonators trying to deceive the already indoctrinated citizens of the Dairchy for their own gain. A pony pretending to be a Saint would be able to bend the will of the people for all sorts of malicious ends.

So lost in his musings was Heartwing that he barely paid attention to the view. Neither the slow transition of the biome below to rolling hills and fields nor the motion of the sun across the heavens pulled at his focus. Even Terminus’ tail end, situated directly in front of him, had no effect.

Only the beginnings of a gradual descent combined with the sprawling city suddenly under his hooves drew Heartwing into full situational alertness. “Ah, it seems we’re here.”

“Yes,” said Terminus, glancing over his shoulder at him, his lips set in a line. “Bit for your thoughts?”

“I have too many bouncing around in my skull at the moment, my dear,” he replied, plastering on a forced grin. “Best we get to it promptly, for the sake of my sanity.”

“Is that really the only reason?” Terminus pointedly asked, staring into and through him.

Heartwing exhaled. Now was not the time to reopen this can of worms. “Yes, it is,” he insisted. “I’m treating this as a matter of national security for the Empire, and nothing more.”

Heartwing watched as Terminus turned this reply over in his mind for a long moment. “If you say so,” he sighed, turning back to face the sky ahead. “We’re talking after we grab lunch, though. And this was a long flight; I need to rest my wings.”

“Of course, of course. But who says we can’t do both at once?” If anything, sharing a meal would make them look less out of place as they eavesdropped, Heartwing reasoned.

“Yes, sir,” Terminus agreed, continuing his descent. The sudden shift to a more professional tone of voice stung Heartwing a little.

For myriad reasons, Heartwing hadn’t been to New Canterlot City in the flesh since that intense day two years prior, and much had changed besides the weather. Buildings that had been too damaged in the fighting had been torn down and replaced, while others had clearly been patched up to some degree. The storm had spared nothing, from pauper tenement houses to the largest manses.

No pegasi, Knight or otherwise, moved to intercept them as Terminus brought Heartwing down into a gentle landing on the street in a middle-class neighborhood of the same sort once common in Ponyville. Family businesses on the first floor, living spaces above, ponies going about their days and exchanging pleasantries. Neighbors made ordinary small talk about the weather and their hobbies, finding contentment in their unchanging routines.

However, as a Knight Vigilant passed by on patrol across the street, the mood shifted, bringing to the fore the true extent of the Diarchy’s difference from the old, harmonious norm: a lingering undercurrent of fear lying beneath surface-level happiness. Conversations ceased as he neared, lest he find some issue in their words. Heartwing bowed his head, both to feign respect for the authority the Knight represented and to better hide his horn. For while there weren’t that many ponies out and about in general, the total absence of unicorns among them was pronounced.

As Terminus unhooked himself from the wheel harness, Heartwing subtly scanned the street from beneath his hood. The place was nearly deserted, with most of the shops having CLOSED signs hanging in the windows.

“It’s too quiet,” Heartwing whispered, as Terminus turned all the way around. “Something is definitely going on.”

Terminus’ stomach rumbled. He blushed faintly, raising a solitary eyebrow.

“Right, right. Food first.”

They walked down the road at a decent clip, Heartwing’s wheels clacking against the cobblestones. An actual gallop was beyond him, but if they did need to make a run for it, he could build up plenty of speed in a straight line.

After two blocks, they found an open eatery. Terminus decisively beelined right for the entrance. Heartwing checked his peripheral vision for anything even slightly amiss as they approached.

The restaurant, Golden Pizza, could best be described as humble. With worn yellow paint on the outside walls and grease stains so numerous on the tables that Heartwing could see them clearly even through the windows, it seemed to be the closest thing to fast food in the Diarchy, by his reckoning. The sort of place Princess Twilight and Rainbow Dash would have loved, with their tastes for grease and carbs respectively.

At any rate, this place was perfect for their needs.

Brass hinges creaked loudly as Terminus held the door open for him. A portly orange earth pony stallion, seemingly the sole proprietor, spun from the large brick oven he was using to greet them. “Welcome to Golden Pizza.”

“Hello,” Heartwing said, glancing around the interior. They weren’t the only customers; a couple sat in the back, managing their fussy foals, and a trio of mares in very cheap-looking yet stylish outfits chatted amicably over their slices.

Terminus moved up to the counter and planted his hooves, scanning the chalkboard menu. Heartwing followed automatically.

Apparently satisfied with the state of the oven, the stallion smirked as he joined them. “Lemme guess: You heard the news and flew in from the next town over?”

“Exactly,” Heartwing replied, the half-lie emerging effortlessly. “Quite shocking, isn't it? I had to see for myself.”

“You and everypony else!” the chef confirmed, excited.

“Then why are you here?” Terminus asked.

“Saints or no Saints, ponies still gotta eat,” he said, gesturing to the other patrons. “The only thing more important to me than keeping the faith is keeping my neighbors fed.”

“Fair enough. We are hungry and appreciate the service,” Heartwing said, smiling truthfully. Diarchy citizen or not, you never disparaged a cook on an empty stomach.

“Thanks,” the chef replied. “So, what are you having?”

“Veggie Lover’s. Extra bell peppers,” Heartwing said. Honestly he didn’t care much for the peppers, but Terminus did, and a bit of charity wouldn’t hurt with things this tense. Terminus shot him a grateful look.

After passing over some bits, they sat down and waited for their order. Heartwing examined the trio of mares they’d spotted on the way in, sharing a knowing look with Terminus. They lapsed into patient silence, and beneath his hood, Heartwing swiveled his ears in the group’s direction.

“Like, I’m still feeling lightheaded after just seeing them!” said the first mare.

“For real, for real,” confirmed the second, nodding sagely in his peripheral vision. “And could you believe those robes? I’d never be able to pull off that look in a million years, even if I had the bits for enchanted fabric.”

“No way those are ordinary enchantments,” the first mare insisted. “They have to be gifts from the Diarchs.”

“Does it honestly even matter what they’re wearing?” the third mare posed. “Their bearing and words alone made me feel like a shameful little foal again.”

“Me too,” admitted the first mare, softly. “We’re unworthy to approach their greatness; it’s why we left, remember?”

“That, and the growing crowd was starting to make Polish uncomfortable,” the second mare said, turning to the third.

“Sorry,” Polish apologized, expression sinking.

“It’s fine, really,” said the first mare, placing a gentle hoof on Polish’s withers. “It’s not like we won’t get the chance to see them again later. Saint Twilight said that she and Saint Fluttershy would be in the city for a while. Just answering all the Knights’ questions at the New Star Shine Building is probably going to take a whole moon.”

Heartwing stiffened. The “Saints” certainly left an impression on these mares, regardless of the accuracy in their portrayal. Two of them were in the city, likely heading for the New Star Shine Building. And one of them was Fluttershy.

The thought of any version of Fluttershy entering that place sent shivers down what was left of his spine. Even without a fiendish Windigo containment contraption in a secret basement, it was still the headquarters of the Knights Mystic. A snake’s den of torturers and spies.

He was broken free of his thoughts once more by the sound of something being set in front of him. Terminus had returned with their pizza. Heartwing hadn’t even noticed him move.

Taking a slow, deep breath, Heartwing grabbed a slice and started eating. It was pretty good, all things considered, though just as greasy as he’d expected.

Terminus met his eyes, radiating concern, both for Heartwing and the news they’d just become privy to. But he ignored the look, projecting contentment. They couldn’t afford to blow their cover now. “This is great pizza,” he said.

After a beat, Terminus replied “It is.” Then, between bites, he asked the million bit question. “Are you going to say anything to the Saints when we see them?”

Taking his time, Heartwing methodically chewed, swallowed, and answered. For once, he actually quoted from the Book of the Saints. “Unto all ponykind, good or ill, I reveal the truth: To all, that which is deserved shall be given.”

Heartwing and Terminus proceeded into the core of the city, the Tower District, with Terminus in the lead. The closer they got, the more numerous the crowds became. First a trickle, and then a surge, all moving in the same direction like the rising tide. Only instead of the roaring surf against the rocks, this tide was punctuated by the susurrus of conversation. Within the growing mass, the two of them drew zero attention. All eyes were pointed forward.

Heartwing was keeping his wide open.

Soon, they could go no farther. The central plaza was packed with what had to be thousands of ponies all cramming themselves into the space by way of a huge circle. Heartwing had never seen so many Diarchy bodies in one place outside of combat. He looked to Terminus. “Three guesses as to who’s standing in the middle of that, and the first two don’t count.”

“The Saints,” he answered, eyes narrowed.

They moved in. The sheer number of ponies present was a testament to the Saints’ magnetism, whatever its purpose. There were many armored or robed Knights present, but none looked their way, even as Heartwing studied their makeup.

As expected, there were representatives from all four orders still fully loyal to the doctrine of the Diarchy among the throng. Jubilant, Vigilant, Adamant, and Mystic alike had joined the civilians, many staring in awe. Some mustered enough courage to shout words of praise or pleas for salvation, while others were genuflecting in adulation.

There were only a few exceptions with the wherewithal to try and maintain order. “No shoving, ponies!” shouted a Knight Vigilant. “And don’t hog space in front! For the love of all that is holy, show some respect!”

“Pegasi, take to hovering, clear some room!” instructed another Vigilant, already ascending into the air himself.

Terminus shot Heartwing a questioning look. Heartwing gestured wordlessly upwards with a slight motion of his head. Taking his cue, Terminus flew up a few dozen feet, joining the other pegasi in gazing upon the figures in the center of the crowd.

Heartwing couldn’t see how his partner was reacting from this angle, at first, while he looked ahead. Only after a few wingbeats did Terminus shift his gaze back down to Heartwing, his mouth set in a line as complex emotions warred on his face. Disbelief, anticipation, confusion, clear envy, a hint of grief. Then, he turned to face ahead again.

He could have tried to shout comforting words over the din, asking Terminus what was wrong. But the atmosphere was still too bleak. Heartwing’s words would have sluiced off again. Instead, he continued to approach. At this distance, ponies weren’t packed too tightly to circumnavigate, and, seeing his wheels plus his missing hind leg, many of them shifted slightly to the side to let him squeeze in.

His heart began to race in anticipation as he approached. With fewer ponies ahead of him, he began to catch glimpses of familiar hues. Each was a flash of fleeting moments long passed, phantoms once laid to rest now tearing their way free, each an aching nostalgic yearning as sweet and debilitating as the finest vintage.

Then fragments of two voices reached his ears. One he had heard much of recently, coming from Rarity’s gifted information-storage construct. That voice, though, had been bereft of emotion, unlike the one that wafted over the heads of the ponies in front of him. Whether that emotion was genuine remained to be seen.

The other stirred a centuries-dormant longing in his breast.

Before he knew it, he was through. Heartwing choked on his own breath, for there stood Fluttershy.

The likeness was immaculate. She was in her prime, appearing around as old as the time they’d met, her butter-yellow coat and long, pink mane and tail perfectly maintained. Her body was covered by a one-shouldered garment in the style of ancient Pegasopolis, a toga, stola or something of the sort. The garment shimmered with an ever-shifting gradient of soft greens, blues, and pinks, as if the aurora borealis itself had been pulled down from the northern sky and wrapped around her.

Next to her stood Twilight, wearing a matching garment. She, too, was the spitting image of the mare who had been his irreplaceable friend, save for the lack of a horn upon her brow. Also present by their sides were two tall, bipedal creatures that looked to be made out of silvery metal and some sort of black material. Their limbs were too thin for them to be covered in armor, even for an Abyssinnian. Magically animated golems, perhaps? It didn’t matter; his focus was on Fluttershy.

Currently, she was talking to somepony on the opposite side of the crowd, standing with Saint Twilight and the others near the center of an empty space about fifty feet across in the core of the plaza. Whether out of intimidation or respect, the ponies had given them room. “Why, yes, I was indeed with the Diarchs all these years,” said Fluttershy. “They’re both truly wonderful. All ponies should strive to be righteous in this life and the next, so that they might meet them one day.”

Heartwing stared. Listened. Scrutinized.

With that question answered, more voices immediately chimed in. But the loudest was a stallion. “Saint Fluttershy!” he exclaimed. She turned to face him, and he continued. “My sister’s in the marine corps, and she was supposed to be back from her tour in the Dragonlands by now. Can you tell me if she’s alright?”

“I’m sure your sister is fine, sir,” Fluttershy said, voice gentle but firm. “And if not, I’ll be certain to deal with those responsible.”

Inhaling with an audible gasp, the stallion dropped into a low bow before retreating deeper back into the group. He was immediately replaced by another, the colt’s lanky body barely qualifying him as such.

“My Saint,” began the colt, ears folded in desperation, “Mama’s kennel got hit by lightning in an accident last week and burnt down! Now all the shelter dogs don’t have a place to sleep, but we don’t have the money to rebuild. I don’t care about us, but we need a miracle to restore it, for the pups! Please, Saint Fluttershy?” he pleaded, bowing.

“Healthy dogs are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves,” the Saint replied, her tone clipped. “If a work of fate destroyed the kennel, then perhaps a member of your family did something to incur the ire of the Diarchs. If you renew your faith and work hard to rebuild, you might find the brand new kennel is better for it.”

The longing in Heartwing’s chest fizzled out, replaced with a growing heat. The pony before him was not the same mare he’d once known. Her mannerisms were wholly different; Fluttershy never would have promised retribution like that, let alone ignore homeless puppies. This mare was not his Fluttershy. She was a Saint, icon of the faith, plucked from the Book and made flesh. And he was far from faithful. His blood began to boil and his thoughts whirled.

Heartwing forced himself to resume focus as his brows furrowed beneath his hood. He’d missed something, and now Saint Fluttershy was exchanging a look with the golem-thing next to her. It had the number ten painted in white on both sides of its faceless head. Or were they helmets? Their shape was unusual; it was hard to tell. The other creature, accompanying Twilight, bore the number one, but was otherwise indistinguishable.

If Saint Fluttershy had spoken to it, she had done so too softly for him to hear. She was now back to addressing the clamor of impromptu petitioners and supplicants. Her next focus was a young pegasus mare, frantically waving her hooves overhead. “Yes?”

The mare practically swooned upon being acknowledged. “Lady Fluttershy, you’ve always been my role model, and I really, really want to join the Knights Angelic, but I was wondering, do you approve of the direction the order has taken since being rebuilt?”

Saint Fluttershy didn’t even stop to think before answering. “While they’re certainly far from the contemptible heretics my original order regrettably became, as genuinely consorting with non-ponies is a grievous sin, the new Knights Angelic do need my guiding hoof. To truly serve their purpose, they should take a more proactive approach and rejoin the Diarchy, serving as I originally intended. Even injured and meek, other creatures are to be feared, lest they divide us.”

She extended a foreleg upwards, continuing. “You have the enthusiasm and thoughtful devotion of a truly exemplary pony. Should you succeed in your training, I would be glad to have you as a Knight, young one.”

The mare beamed, her s wings buzzing with joy. “Eeeee, thank you! I’ll make you proud, my Saint!”

Simultaneously, The heat within Heartwing burned brighter and brighter until all he could feel was pure, unadulterated rage. His limbs began to shake as his restraint quickly began to evaporate.

Fluttershy championed those who were suffering, the only group she had never been afraid of. This caricature before him was a twisted joke, one that had more than run its course. And he could contain himself no longer.

“YOU’RE NOT FLUTTERSHY!” Heartwing screamed with his entire being, almost tearing his throat raw.

Every other voice went quiet as his outburst drew everypony’s attention. He didn’t care, breaking through the invisible circle of reverence which kept the other ponies at bay.

The quiet shattered as quickly as it had come, with overlapping cries of “Nonbeliever!” and “Of course she is!” assaulting his ears. Some ponies even leaped after him, ready to tackle the audacious, broken fool they thought he was and drag him away.

However, the Saints themselves were not among them. Saint Twilight turned away from the white-maned Mystic Inquisitor she’d been speaking with to face him, expression inscrutable. Saint Fluttershy simply glanced up at the figure standing by her side, and it raised a metallic hand, quickly tracing runes in the air.

Before Heartwing could be assaulted, a chartreuse dome of magic appeared around him, and a dozen hooves bounced off its surface. Was he saved, or was he trapped? Too late to go back now. Terminus must have been worried sick. Still, he did not take his eyes away from the Saints.

As the Saints and their golems approached, the Diarchy ponies he’d offended stepped back slightly while still watching him warily all the while.

Once she’d gotten close enough, Saint Fluttershy spoke. “And who are you to make such an accusation?” she asked, her stolen voice having taken a curious tone.

Heartwing couldn’t hold in the smirk. “Someone who knew her in life,” he declared, before throwing off his cloak.

This time, the onlookers all repeated the same word: “Unicorn!”

Saint Fluttershy’s ears turned briefly in the direction of the loudest among them before returning to focus on Heartwing. Her tail swished once to the side. “I see. So you doubt not just me, but all of us. The whole of our teachings.”

“Of course I do,” he seethed, not breaking eye contact. “You’re clearly impostors. And the teachings you uphold are all twisted lies. If you read the Friendship Journal, you’d know that.”

The creature bearing the number one spoke, with a gruff mare’s voice. “This pony is clearly a problem, my Saint. Should I take care of him?”

Heartwing ignored her, his gut churning with displeasure as his legs locked in fury. The sweat beading across his back in fear and heat went ignored. He would say his piece, dammit.

“How dare you pretend to be my friends - sully their names even further,” Heartwing hissed through gritted teeth. “I don’t care what you’re trying to achieve here, whoever you are, but I will not tolerate this. They were good ponies who extended a hoof in friendship to all kinds, not violent xenophobes who imposed their will on others through fear and force!”

This would be the part where he blasted them with the Elements of Harmony, were they present. Instead, he keenly felt their absence, and even the small but noticeable distance between himself and Terminus. They found their true strength together. Now, he faced them alone.

Saint Fluttershy’s brow creased at his impassioned words, though she held her tongue.

Saint Twilight, however, did not, the mare unmoved by his display. “No, Archpaladin. The opinion of one misguided stallion changes nothing. Yet I must make it clear: we are the Saints of yore,” she declared.

Without warning, a pillar of stone rose beneath her hooves, elevating her such that she loomed over Heartwing.

He stared in stunned silence. There had been no indication at all of any magic being cast, by her or any of the others. It had just happened.

Also, a small part of him observed, Twilight never loomed. She’d endeavored to keep herself approachable. Besides, she’d never been any good at it. Humility had been ingrained deeply within her.

Saint Twilight seemed to take no satisfaction in her new position. Her expression was unreadable, her lips a thin line. However, she did project her voice, addressing the crowd as well as Heartwing. “We have been given a task by the Holy Diarchs on high, granted new life to fulfill this purpose! Just as they have guided you, I shall guide my fellow Saints as the six of us shepherd this country back onto the path of true righteousness!”

Everypony was listening, rapt. Even Heartwing, still seething, could not bring himself to interrupt. If nothing else, he’d learn their plans.

“No longer will lesser creatures besiege our borders from without, for mighty Paladins shall defend you!” Saint Twilight continued, spreading her wings wide. “No longer will unicorns threaten to tear apart our unity from within! The Diarchs, acting through me, will usher in a new golden age of peace, order, and happiness! Under my leadership, miraculous blessings await!”

Once it was clear she’d finished her speech, the crowd erupted into cheers, hollering in joy. But Heartwing’s ears fell. Whoever was wearing Twilight’s face as a mask, they were clearly aiming to take charge.

It would mean another war.

Heartwing could easily teleport out of this net of bodies, but he would never leave Terminus behind. But where was his partner? Perhaps Terminus was waiting for his signal while keeping his eyes peeled for a sneak attack? Or could he be as emotionally overwhelmed by these events as Heartwing was?

Acting on this line of thought, Heartwing raised a forehoof high in a beckoning motion as the cheering died off. “An excellent plan,‘Saint.’” He put as much sarcasm as he could muster into the word as he looked up at the mare. “Too bad it’s been tried before, and recently, I might add. But my friends and I stopped Steadfast Word, and we’ll stop you, too.”

“You cannot,” Saint Twilight said matter-of-factly. The pillar she was standing on retreated back into the earth, and she turned to face the number ten golem thing - the Paladin - who was holding him captive. “Release him,” she ordered.

Heartwing blinked, slowly. That was about the last thing he’d expected. But neither the Paladin nor Saint Fluttershy objected, and the Paladin wordlessly dismissed their shield. He probably could have broken out of it shortly - shields tended to weaken with distance - but still, he wasn’t complaining.

Immediately, the ponies who had tried to attack him previously stalked forward. By now there were more Knights among them, weapons raised to cut him to ribbons. More than one was calling for his head. Heartwing eyed them carefully. At the same time, a familiar black shape began diving through the air, rushing to his side.

Terminus reached him before anypony else could, coming in for a skidding landing. He took up position at Heartwing’s back, covering him. “That was incredibly reckless,” Terminus said, teeth clenched, before adding, “I almost did the same thing.”

Managing a small smile, Heartwing eyed the mob that had them cornered. They were currently unarmed, vastly outnumbered, and far from safe territory. Not the best odds, but he’d faced worse. He lit his horn.

But Saint Twilight raised a hoof. “Let them leave.”

It took a second for what she’d said to sink in. Heartwing gawked in disbelief.

The townsponies and Knights reacted similarly, protesting their Saint’s orders and calling for blood.

“There’s such a thing as being too merciful!”

“What? You must reconsider!”

“He needs to be punished!”

One had a longer argument. “But they’re infidels! And you were the one who said ‘any righteous action, taken in defense of the faith, is just and sanctified’ in the Book!”

“My little ponies, do not immediately resort to violence against your fellow pony,” instructed Saint Twilight, stepping closer. “In this case it may be justified, but that does not mean it is ideal. Violence should still be the last resort. This stallion must be the one known as Heartwing whom I’ve heard much about: he leads a large organization, and harming him would almost certainly provoke a military response. Besides,” she continued, “this is a punishment; the harshest one I can administer.”

Her cold gaze turned to Heartwing. “No matter what these heretics try to achieve, they will ultimately fail, for the strength of the divine is absolute. That shall be their punishment: to look on from afar, helpless to affect change. Their lives will be spent reflecting on their many misdeeds as their false ideology crumbles around them and the rest of ponykind is brought to salvation under the will of the Diarchs.”

Ice prickled across Heartwing’s body. The look in her eyes… there was not a trace of doubt in those violet pools. It was as if she could see the future and know their fate for certain.

Heartwing took a breath and steeled himself. Destiny could be defied. That he was no longer the Spirit of Chaos proved as much. That he was no longer whatever he had been before becoming the Spirit of Chaos proved it as well.

He tried hard to never think of those days.

Regardless, he would continue to fight fate, if fate was on Saint Twilight’s side.

After a long pause, the Knights and others surrounding him and Terminus backed off, sheathing their weapons. Some among the crowd started stomping their hooves in approval, and soon everypony was cheering for their returned savior. Disturbed, Heartwing turned to give one final look to the false Fluttershy. She was smiling, proud of her sister in Sainthood. Paladin Number Ten somehow gave off the impression that they were analyzing him.

Shivering, he spun towards Terminus. “L-Let’s go.” There was nothing more to do here.

“Yeah,” Terminus said, ears flicking urgently.

Nopony accosted them physically as they harnessed Heartwing’s wheels to Terminus again. That did not stop many ponies from berating them verbally, however, even as the two Saints had put the matter behind them and were already back to interacting with the masses and making glacial progress towards the New Star Shine Building.

Before anypony decided to change their minds about attacking, Terminus took to the sky, flapping with strong wingbeats to take them almost straight up. One pony threw a rutabaga at Heartwing and missed. “And don’t come back, scum!” somepony else shouted.

Peeking over his shoulder, Heartwing was glad to see no pegasi pursuing them. Their obedience as a collective was greater than their hatred, even for the most zealous, it seemed. But he was all out of shock after everything that had just happened, leaving only emptiness and confusion. “You okay?” Terminus asked, once they were high up enough to be out of earshot. “Because I’m definitely rattled.”

Heartwing frowned. The sun’s warmth somehow felt oppressive as they flew. “You and me both, Terminus.”

Chapter 3

The Day Prior

“Be good now, you hear?” the guard said, as he ushered Lady Turquoise, Knight Jubilant, back into her cell.

Turquoise did not know his name. They rotated too often, and didn’t often introduce themselves. What she did know, very intimately by this point, was her cell. With practiced motions, she undid the straps on her wheels and hauled herself onto her cot. By the time she had, the other prisoners had also been locked in, and the guard departed.

It was time to resume her self-imposed task. Now that they were back in their cells, her two crystal pony neighbors could not escape from her sermons.

The Book, her faith, was correct. Any alternative spat on a thousand years of history. If her ceaseless efforts could guide even one soul down the path of truth, it would be worth it. And Turquoise still knew that path in its exactness.

With her efforts here, she could make up for her mistakes, in some small way. What she’d failed to do before she could achieve now. Her destiny might not yet be lost.

It couldn’t be. Without that hope, she was nothing.

Any doubts would be smothered in verse.

Clearing her throat, Turquoise picked up her Book of the Saints from where it rested on her splintering, rickety table. She turned to Mirror Facet, the shiny, silver-coated mare groaning in annoyance from across the bars. The linen of her prison garb chafed at Turquoise’s back as she moved. She’d focused on her other neighbor, Cubic Lattice, yesterday, and both were potential converts.

“I know they were trying to show compassion, but I really wish the palace staff hadn’t given you a copy of that book,” Mirror sighed.

Turquoise’s eyes flicked downward, and her grip on its pages tightened. It’s presence gave her comfort, even if it wasn’t her treasured personal copy. This one had been printed as a lowly paperback instead of the hardcover it warranted!

Still, Mirror’s demeanor would not deter her. “Let us begin with another passage from the Book. The Diarchs spoke to Saint Applejack, saying ‘You shall go to the town north of the forest wild, and there you shall find a plague of deceit which must be cured, otherwise the lives of good mares and stallions might be lost.’ And Saint Applejack listened.”

Mirror Facet groaned, slamming her face into her pillow. “Ugh, not this one again, you nutcase. I get it, scamming creatures is a bad idea, I’m already in the freaking dungeons!”

“But you must internalize why doing so is wrong. Show real remorse,” Turquoise explained patiently. “Otherwise, you may make further incorrect moral judgments in the future.”

“This was never an issue of morals, you already know I wanted to help ponies. I just didn’t have the money to pay for law school, despite it literally being my special talent!” she insisted. “Besides, you’re one to talk about showing remorse! Didn’t you—”

Turquoise’s ears fell. Don’t let her say it.

Shaking her head once, Turquoise cut her off, continuing. “After a journey of many days, the Saint arrived. When she did, she found the town in a buoyant state. A duo of salescolts were distributing an elixir to the worn and battered residents. They claimed the elixir was blessed by the Diarchs themselves, and had the power to cure any ailment. And so they sold many bottles.”

Mirror Facet turned away, her ears folding down as she made a point of trying as hard as possible to ignore Turquoise. But this was as much for herself as it was for Mirror, so she kept going.

“Saint Applejack, in her eloquence, explained to the ponies that this was a lie. ‘The Diarchs granted ponykind knowledge of different medicines to cure what ails them. There is no singular cure for all sickness. This is either a false promise or, worse, zebra witchcraft, which will afflict you with curses.’ However, only the wisest amongst those present listened to her. The rest continued to believe the wicked words of the salescolts.”

Turquoise turned to the next page. “One such pony was a beloved elder, strong of will but weak of body. After taking the elixir, she incorrectly judged that her age-begotten frailties had vanished. ‘I wish to frolic about in the river as I did in my youth,’ she said, and leapt into the water. However, her limbs lacked the strength to fight the current, and she was swept away, drowning before any noble pegasi could save her.

“Upon discovering her, washed up on the riverbank, the ponies of the town realized their error, and were as furious at the salescolts as they were ashamed of the fact they had not heeded Saint Applejack’s words. Their cries of regret reached the ears of the Diarchs, and they transformed the ill-gotten coin of the terrible colts into a golden viper, which bit both of them before slithering away into the woods.”

“What a waste of precious bits,” quipped Guzuko, the griffon hen from Turquoise’s neighboring cell. Turquoise ignored her. Even if she hadn’t been forbidden to interact with her kind, she wouldn’t have. Disgusting carrion-eaters, the lot of them. The griffon could earn salvation in her next life.

They probably couldn’t even feel guilt. At least, not in the way Turquoise did, like waves lapping at the shore, slowly eroding every wall she built. She pressed on, ignoring that errant thought.

“As the pair of evildoers writhed on the ground in pain, the venom eating through their flesh, Saint Applejack gestured to their remaining stock. ‘It seems you are in need of a cure. Why not imbibe your miraculous elixir?’ she proposed.

“Through their anguish, they replied in unison. ‘We were deceiving everypony! The elixir’s power is a fabrication we devised to scam those too trusting out of their wealth!’ Saint Applejack and the townsponies did not move to aid them. Thus did the Saint impart her wisdom: ‘Then take this lesson with you into your next lives: Do not make untrue claims of your works, lest you bring about great misfortune for yourselves and others.’ And so the virtue of Honesty was reaffirmed.”

“Again, there’s no chance that’s what happened,” Mirror Facet insisted, shooting Turquoise a look over her shoulder. “You’ve been indoctrinated by hostile rhetoric, dumbass. The kind ponies of that era’s Equestria wouldn’t have just sat back and watched as two stallions died of snake bites for any reason. Doesn’t matter if it was murder or an accident. You want me to cite the legal definitions of each?”

“Oh, please, stop interacting with her already,” Cubic Lattice chimed in before Turquoise could respond, tapping her sapphire hoof on her table. “She won’t let us do anything else until she’s finished. And I’d like to have the chance to hear myself think, today.”

Turquoise welcomed the interference. It gave her something to focus on besides what Mirror had said. She frequently rebuked the content of the Book, as heretics did, and these rebuttals disturbed her. Made her question, in a way that was growing more and more difficult to ignore. A churning in her stomach, a dreadful retrospection.

No, that would not do. She took a breath. Focus on your charges. Your mission.

“Thinking? About what?” Turquoise posed. “We’re in prison; there isn’t much to think about besides how exactly you wound up in here and why. I’ve done plenty of that, myself, and it’s far from pleasant or illuminating.”

“Oh? Care to share? I could go for some schadenfreude,” Cubic said with a smirk, crossing her hooves behind her head as she reclined on her threadbare cot.

“Yeah, that I would appreciate,” echoed Guzuko, who folded her wings.

Turquoise, however, frowned. The churning redoubled as her focus returned inward.

Yes, she had done a lot of self-reflection on that during her time here over these past two years, as well as a lot of listening.

Even in prison, she heard rumors. From what she’d overheard, her comrades had eventually succeeded in slaying the abomination Flurry Heart, only for two more “alicorns” to take her place. One claimed to be the Great Heretic Sunset Shimmer, and the other the false Rarity who had landed Turquoise in this situation to begin with. Neither mare had been that manner of creature in life, and to present otherwise was utter nonsense.

Now, this Rarity was helping run the Empire. Yet while she had risen, Grandmaster Steadfast Word and Grandmaster Proud Stone had fallen. It left a sour taste in her mouth. The Diarchy was surely on the side of justice, so how had her brothers- and sisters-in-arms failed so spectacularly?

How had she failed so spectacularly? Was it her mistake siding with Steadfast, even though he’d sounded so reasonable, tasking her with the mission that had led to both of them being struck down, crippled and caged?

Was it even further back, when she let her friend fall from her Radiant place?

Turquoise still didn’t know the real reason why she’d had to lose everything, and it ate at her.

Of course, she wasn’t about to admit all this to them.

She shoved her introspection aside, returning her attention to her fellow prisoners. “Is reveling in the suffering of others how you cope with the repetitive nature of this continued existence, settled upon us like a shroud?

“Every day here is indistinguishable from the last. Wake up, eat the provided breakfast, stretch in the exercise courtyard, eat the provided meals, sleep, repeat. It seems that this depressing place has gotten to you, without faith to buoy your spirits,” she noted.

“See, Cube? As if that’d work,” Mirror said, rolling her eyes. “All this lady does is recite verses at us or start lecturing like this. She’ll just keep going anyway.”

“That’s not true, I don’t only proselytize,” Turquoise insisted. “I also pray in silence. For my country, my family, the salvation of all who might stray.”

Mirror’s brows furrowed as she stared more intently at her. “And you believe that’s enough, after everything? I’ll state it plainly, since you clearly didn’t catch on: you’re a hypocrite, Turquoise. The officers literally offered to move you into a special condominium for house arrest because of your condition, and you refused. Because of all the ‘good behavior’ you’ve shown, they said all you’d needed to do was apologize. Express some form of regret for your actions. And you couldn’t even do that.”

Turquoise sighed. They didn’t understand. “Of course I have regrets. Who doesn’t? But I don’t care about the ability to cook my own food, make my own schedule, or wear actual clothes next to my pride and dignity as a Knight. It’s the one thing that wasn’t stolen from me.”

There was the tiniest hint of uncertainty in her mind as she said it, though she kept it from creeping into her voice.

Even her faith threatened to slip away from her, the longer she spent trapped in this accursed city. Having another pony from home to talk to would have helped, but Turquoise hadn’t even gotten any letters. Her family and friends had probably been told she’d been killed in the line of duty.

She pushed herself as upright as she could, projecting her voice. “The abominations needed to be purged, and I was glad to carry out the task,” Turquoise declared, speaking it into truth. “Even if you would have taken that deal, I refuse to compromise my principles for mere creature comforts. I shall gladly endure these indignities if it means the Diarchs and Saint Pinkamena will reward me for my faith, in this life or the next.”

“Really?” Guzuko said, her annoyed expression somehow twisting further. “And I thought this mare was insane after she tore into Lute over a bit of PDA. Seriously, who constantly calls a couple of friends with benefits ‘heathens’ and spits in their face?”

Turquoise still did not dignify the griffon with a response. They’d been a homosexual and interracial couple, deserving only of her contempt.

And yet, the picture they’d painted had made Turquoise… curious. The Book said one thing, but the daily lives of these creatures said another. It was heresy of the highest order, plain to see, yet Lute and Guzuko had seemingly gotten along without issue.

It was the same with unicorn magic around the palace grounds. That art was also abundant, and seemed to better many lives.

At first, it seemed to be madness, but after two years of being subjected to such sights and gossip, it had almost begun to sound reasonable.

And that terrified her.

Indeed, none of this blatant sinning led to the destruction of ponykind. The Empire was currently not at war with any other nation, and despite all the heretical freedoms, freedoms which should have led to lawless anarchy, ponies actually seemed… happier.

Even this prison was far smaller than any she’d ever heard of back home, the creatures interred within the exceptions rather than the rule. In fact, Turquoise had been incarcerated here longer than almost anyone else. Most of the other prisoners served very short sentences, for acts such as repeated thievery or getting into brawls after one too many cups.

Well, excluding those within the maximum security section. Turquoise had passed its thick, enchanted crystal door almost daily during her time here. However, she’d never seen the inside, and could only imagine what sort of inequine monsters these heathens considered to be dire threats.

The alternative, that it held ponies of the Diarchy not so different from herself, was far worse to contemplate.

Lost in her musings, she nearly missed Cubic Lattice chiming in. “Eh, she used to be more insufferable as a cellmate, even with her ass-backwards values,” she begrudgingly noted. “At least Turquoise agreed to my idea of passing the time with science texts.”

Guzuko snorted, her glare still promising vengeance upon Turquoise. Cubic, meanwhile, didn’t seem to care.

It had been a good idea, regardless of the morally dubious source, Turquoise admitted internally. She would have risked losing her worldliness and the Book its context otherwise. Science specifically was fine, but anything more would be tainted with heresies, views of morality and implied instruction on life contradictory to the Book’s.

Yes, the only instructions Turquoise, or anyone, needed to follow were those laid down by the Diarchs and their Saints. She couldn't afford to let their small kindnesses lull her into a false sense of appreciation, allow her to be corrupted like Emberglow was.

Turquoise was still perfectly fine.

“Forget the textbooks,” began Mirror, her tone mischievous. “In my professional assessment, what this girl really needs is to get some action for once. Like, what are the odds a mare who’s so stiff she doesn’t bat an eye at killing on orders has ever gotten laid? Bet she’d loosen up and relax if somebody showed her all the best parts of life she’s been missing. Any volunteers?”

As Guzuko and Cubic laughed at her expense, Turquoise bristled.

“I will not be led astray, no matter how long I’m held captive, or what you people tell me about the city beyond these cells,” she replied, this close to seething. “So there’s no need to continue blaspheming or pressing me any further.”

Cubic and Mirror were misleading her somehow. They had to be.

As if they actually cared, as her comrades did.

Abandoning her efforts at converting them for the day, she laid back down and rolled onto her side, facing away. She shut her muzzle and tried to calm down. Whatever they did next, Turquoise tuned out. Her sermon was long over.

The sun eventually dipped below her high window, shrouding the mare’s wing of the dungeon in deep gray. Her dinner’s flavors, brought to her, were equally drab.

Hers was a state of limbo, biding time until something changed. Maybe the rest of the alicorns would go mad and kill each other, or the Diarchs would cleanse the land in holy fire.

Until then, she would find security and peace of mind through her continued worship. In worship, all her worrisome thoughts were banished, or at least shoved into the recesses of her mind. In worship, she could not hear the doubt that threatened to poison her belief. The notion that, maybe, the faith itself was but a construct, her life a lie.

No. Turquoise shook her head, hard. All these contradictions made her thoughts twist in ways she could not bear. She had to get back to reading in the dim light. Soon, she’d have the entire text memorized, their meaning painstakingly etched into her very bones.

Despite the scratchy sheets, another indignity Turquoise had become accustomed to, the call of sleep soon claimed her, an identical tomorrow beckoning.

Rippling pain from her side quite literally knocked Turquoise awake. She let out an undignified yelp of surprise, her eyes shooting open at the possibility she was being attacked. And here it is, she thought, despite her grogginess. The empire is showing its true colors at last.

Turquoise was surprised to discover that it was still the middle of the night. Faint moonlight streamed in through the windows, casting the metal and stone in a dark blue pallor. But the truly unusual sight was the bipedal figure looming next to her. Her self-satisfaction gave way to apprehension. A cold chill rushed along what was left of her spine.

“W-Who are you?” Turquoise asked, pushing herself back as she squinted to try and make out more details. “D-Don’t hurt me!”

“I will not hurt you. I am a Paladin; I serve the Saints,” the figure - a she - replied. Her voice was tinny, as if she was speaking through a thick metal helm. “I was sent to take you back to the Holy Equestrian Diarchy.”

Turquoise stared in bewilderment. Her attention flicked momentarily to the cell door.

It had been flung totally open.

Eyes wide, she looked back to the so-called Paladin.“I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“No,” said the Paladin, reaching forwards to pinch her ear between fingers that were hard and coarse, almost like scales. To Turquoise’s amazement, it stung!

Between her eyes adjusting to the light and the reduced distance between them, Turquoise could make out the Paladin’s form in detail. Her body was all hard lines and overlapping plates, too large to be scales but too small to be a suit of armor. She almost looked too thin to be stable while upright. A body that was rigid yet devoid of imperfections, a marionette given fluid life, carved in seamless black and purest silver.

If she hadn’t spoken to her, Turquoise would have thought the Paladin a frightful metal monster of unsettling artifice. But her higher faculties overrode her instincts as mind raced frantically.

Was this some new initiative in the Diarchy, one that created better knights who could walk upright? Or had she actually come down from heaven? Had the Lunar Diarch crafted this being from dreamstuff? The creature was too alien for a rational explanation.

Buoyed with elation and burgeoning curiosity, Turquoise rapidly climbed into her wheels and quickly straightened her mane with a few passes of her brush. “H-How did you even get in here? Infiltrating a place like this must be supremely difficult with all the security.”

The Paladin did not answer her question. “Looks like you’re ready. Good. Wait a moment,” she said before unceremoniously leaving her cell for the next.

Taking this in stride, she turned to look at the Paladin through the bars and bowed her head for a moment to show her gratitude before stepping out into the hall. Turquoise watched as she traced a rune spell to unlock the rest of the occupied cells and then jostled everyone else awake, prompting a series of surprised shouts.

Once she had everyone’s attention, the Paladin spoke again, gesturing to Turquoise. “I’m breaking her out and taking her back to the Holy Equestrian Diarchy. Those of you who wish for salvation, or if you just want to be free again, come with me.”

None of the three other prisoners present shared Turquoise’s enthusiasm. “I think I’m good, thanks,” said Cubic Lattice, her voice conveying sarcasm even as her eyes were wide with surprise. To Turquoise, it came across as a thinly veiled defense mechanism. “I’ll be back with my family in a few months.”

“And wind up a third-class citizen? Hard pass,” said Guzuko, her eyes narrowed even in the dark. “I’m not afraid of you, crazy evil freak thing. Good luck escaping the city and then trekking all the way there when her legs don’t work, dumbass,” she added, pointing to Turquoise.

Mirror Facet definitely was afraid, the mare shaking on the floor against the far wall of her cell. Turquoise pitied her.

“They don’t deserve your generosity anyway,” Turquoise decided, impressed that she was actually willing to offer such charity. “Especially if they can’t tell the holy from the monstrous.”

The Paladin hummed at that, then turned for the exit, beckinging Turquoise to follow. The moment was so surreal, Turquoise nearly tripped over her own hooves. Her former cellmates were quiet now, save for the faint sound of Mirror’s rapid, terrified breathing. In the sudden near-silence, Turquoise’s hoofsteps rang loudly on the stone floor with her squeaking wheelchair in contrast to the Paladin’s deathly silent gait.

They carefully passed through the heavy door to the cell block, into a hall illuminated by wall sconces. The night guard was slumped in an ungainly manner over the watchmare’s desk, unconscious.

More important, Turquoise concluded, was the Paladin herself. It was definitely clear now that she wasn’t a normal creature at all, but rather a divine avatar sculpted of gleaming metal using techniques beyond mortal ken. Turquoise gaped in amazement. “May I ask you name, Paladin?”

“Not important,” she said, moving towards the entrance to the stallion’s wing. She tapped the side of her faceless head, where the number four was sharply displayed. “You can call me by my rank if you want. Paladin Four.”

Her rank? The number? Did she not have a name, an identity? Was that what one needed to do, to be a true servant of the Diarchs? Revoke everything except belief in the words of the Saints?

Turquoise figured that neither she nor anypony else alive was capable of that.

The thought opened the floodgates. There were so many questions about the Paladin. Where had she been before this night? Why now, and why not in equine form? Had Turquoise somehow earned this? Because she didn’t feel like she had.

Turquoise had so much to ask, yet she held her tongue. There would be time for such later. “Understood.”

Turquoise waited as best she could, trembling with nervous energy, while Paladin Four slipped into the other half of the dungeon, likely to ask the rest of the prisoners if they would join them.

Paladin Four emerged again a short time later, without anyone else. The Paladin showed no expression at the apparent rejection. “Alright, let’s move.”

Following without question, Turquoise stuck close to the Paladin as she led the way along through the depths of the castle. Bare stone gave way to crystal that shimmered faintly in the late hour as they ascended a staircase. They passed a pair of guards, also unconscious, slumped beneath a watercolor landscape painting. Her Paladin companion was certainly in her element, and far be it from Turquoise to break the cautious silence as Paladin Four peeked around the corner ahead.

Once more beckoned along, Turquoise followed down more corridors until they came to an unguarded window leading outside, already cracked open. Reaching for her side, Paladin Four pulled out a small wand from somewhere, carved ornately from wood and stained golden.

“What’s that for?” Turquoise asked as Paladin Four helped carry her over the threshold.

Paladin Four elegantly climbed through after her before explaining. “Long-distance teleportation. Saint Twilight set up an anchor for all of us, but the castle’s wards would have detected and tracked it if I did so while we were inside.”

Teleportation? That was impossible with runes—

Then it clicked, and confusion gave way to astonishment. “Wait, Saint Twilight did?” As in, personally?

Before Turquoise could ponder the implications of this any further, Paladin Four waved the wand, and Turquoise was blinded by a flash of light.

When the stars faded from her vision, they were abruptly standing in the interior of a large building. Bright white lines of light were spaced uniformly apart on the ceiling, obviously magical in nature. The floor and ceiling were clear of dirt or debris, but stained, as if the wood and tile had been in a state of disrepair and only recently repaired. The interior walls had been knocked out at some point, leaving only support pillars. At the far ends of the space, glass walls which looked brand new kept out the cold night air. Beside them were unusual works of artifice she could not immediately discern the purpose of.

“Ah, hey, there you are!” somepony exclaimed.

Turquoise spun to face the source of the voice, her wheels squeaking on the polished floor, only to freeze in her tracks.

It was Saint Rainbow Dash.

That legendary mane was unmistakable. Another Paladin stood beside her, this one bearing the number two, though otherwise indistinguishable.

Turquoise choked on her own tongue. Could she be absolutely sure she was awake? Or maybe she’d been fed illicit hallucinogens?

“You remember where the altar is?” asked the literal, actual Saint standing right there. Her robes, imbued with shifting, holy light, added to the gravitas of her presence.

“Of course,” Paladin Four replied, her stance professional and unshifting.

“Great! You know what to do, so I’ll leave you to it,” said Saint Rainbow Dash. “We’re about to head out, but Pinkamena should be back soon.”

“I’m still not sure it’s the right call, going with this mare,” Paladin Two interjected, gesturing to Turquoise. Her voice was downright saccharine, compared to Four’s. But the way she held herself was more playful, and yet… it struck Turquoise as somehow forced.

Too many screws were spinning loose in Turquoise’s head; she could barely breathe, let alone analyze!

“She doesn’t seem like leadership material to me. Without the drive, the hunger…” Paladin Two trailed off with a shrug and a bow. “But it’s not my place to object. You and yours know what’s best for everyone, after all, my Saint.”

“Exactly,” Saint Rainbow Dash confirmed. “I hear you, but trust Pinkamena and Twilight, she’ll do great.”

She shot a winning smile at Turquoise, who was now very close to fainting on the spot. “Get excited! Big changes are coming! Oh, and nice to meet you by the way, Lady Turquoise.”

Saint Rainbow Dash knew her name. Saint Rainbow Dash knew her name.

Heart fluttering, the strength in her legs gave out and she bonelessly collapsed face first onto the floor.

Sensation returned slowly.

First came weight and touch, even as she remained groggy. Turquoise was lying on her stomach, feeling better than she had in a while.

Then came her consciousness and the memories of last night.

No, not memories. A dream, surely. She knew all that had been too good to be true. Paladins and Saints, a prison break? Of course she’d been dreaming. It had been a very vivid dream, certainly, but a dream nonetheless.

Forcing her eyes open, the blurs in front of her gradually sharpened into focus. Turquoise did not see the familiar bare wall of her cell. Instead, she was resting on a hard, silvery surface, and a translucent dome that had been covering her body was peeling itself away. Her hearing returned only to catch the tail end of the faint whirring noise accompanying the motion.

She recoiled in confusion, or tried to. Her body was still leaden with lethargy, as if she’d been sedated, but that was rapidly wearing off, cast off by the beginnings of panic.

After blinking repeatedly, Turquoise frantically looked about and discovered she was not alone; another pony was present. Despite having never met them before, the earth mare was unmistakable: pink coat, perfectly straight, hot pink mane and tail, with robes that shimmered like the northern lights.

“Hello there,” she calmly greeted.

There was only one conclusion Turquoise could reach from this. She hadn’t imagined last night’s events at all. It had all actually happened. Oh holy Diarchs above.

Scrambling onto four hooves, Turquoise leapt onto the floor, dipping her head in reverence. “S-Saint Pinkamena!” she exclaimed.

Saint Pinkamena, for her part, merely chuckled politely. “While your attention is appreciated, I believe you just skipped over something even more notable.”

When she did not elaborate, Turquoise looked up at the saint, only to see Pinkamena gesturing behind Turquoise with a hoof.

That was when it hit her. Whipping her head around to confirm, Turquoise’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t wearing her wheels. She was standing. Transfixed, she trotted in place a little before sending an awestruck gaze at Saint Pinkamena, who was now smiling.

“Acting through the Altar of Enlightenment, the Diarchs fully restored your spine and back legs,” she explained, motioning to the platform Turquoise had awoken within.

Joy filled Turquoise as her heart leapt, prancing in place a little as she stretched out all manner of kinks in her hind half. Atrophied muscles unused in ages burned in the best way, and Turquoise was lightheaded. She was so preoccupied savoring the ability to move freely again that she totally forgot to whom she was speaking.

With a squeak, she froze, but she could not prevent the questions suddenly roiling in her mind from bursting free. “Altar of Enlightenment? What exactly is that? And how did it heal me?”

“I will answer that. Can you hear me?” a different mare’s voice suddenly asked her.

Turquoise couldn’t pinpoint where the voice was coming from, but it sounded very close by. She’d heard about the incident when many ponies started hearing voices a few years back, and they’d been crazy, driven insane by demons. Was she going mad? “Y-Yes?” she tentatively answered.

“Good, everything is coming through to me in full,” the voice continued. “And before you ask, no, you’re not mad. Lady Turquoise, you have been granted a most wonderful gift. I am Twilight Sparkle. The altar’s main purpose is to allow those chosen to receive the wisdom of the Saints directly, communicated through me.”

As she struggled to process the magnitude of this fresh revelation, Saint Pinkamena smiled patiently. “It can be startling at first, but her presence by your side should be a comfort in due time,” she said.

Oh. Oh wow. “I-I don’t deserve such a miraculous blessing, my Saints,” Turquoise stuttered out.

“That’s not true; we chose you,” Saint Pinkamena insisted. She closed this distance between them and cupped Turquoise’s cheek in a hoof with all the tenderness of a mother with her child. She couldn’t look away from the Saint’s kind blue eyes. “Eventually, we hope to enlighten all ponykind. But few in number are the ponies worthy enough to help bring that hope to fruition.”

“Lady Turquoise, Knight who bears my Mark, will you join me in taking charge of this sacred task?” Pinkamena asked.

Tears began to flow down her cheeks as all of her plugged up emotions, all of her shame and disbelief, boiled over, replaced by clarity and elation. After all her trials and tribulations, Turquoise’s commitment to scripture was being repaid beyond expectations. Truly, this made the restoration of her spine seem almost paltry!

“Y-Yes, of course!” Turquoise dipped down to her knees in supplication, shaking as she pressed her muzzle to the tiles. “It would be my greatest honor to serve at your side!”

“Thank you, but you need not dirty your face against the floor on my behalf. Show your allegiance with these instead,” Saint Pinkamena said.

Picking herself up obediently, Turquoise saw that her Saint was holding a set of folded pink robes out to her. Terrible understanding dawned.

She was naked. In front of Pinkamena herself!

Seeing the fresh panic on her face, Saint Pinkamena hummed softly. “Do not be ashamed. The Altar requires ponies to bare themselves fully to the Diarchs, so we removed and discarded your prisoner’s clothes.”

Sighing in relief, though still extremely embarrassed, Turquoise took the set of Jubilant robes and donned them on the spot as quickly as she was able. Her rear legs were stiff with disuse, but she managed.

Yet that was far from the main focus of her thoughts as she dressed. She’d accepted the honor without question, but did she truly deserve it, now, after everything she’d been through? Maybe Paladin Two had been right, before? Best to confess openly, admit her faults without the Saints needing to ask.

Taking a deep breath, more than ready to face whatever may come, Turquoise met Saint Pinkamena’s eyes. “I must confess… surrounded by heresy as I was, and after everything that’s happened, I was beginning to doubt.”

This was a gross understatement, utterly inadequate to describe her months of turmoil, yet it had to be enough.

“But never again. I now see the whole breadth of the church’s merciful glory laid out before me, embodied in you and your Paladins. Like them, I shall cast all else aside, and devote myself wholly and completely to carrying out your divine will,” she declared.

“You have my gratitude for your commitment, and forgive you for your doubts,” Saint Pinkimena said, in a tone carrying boundless compassion. “Now rise anew, my Knight. There is much work to be done.”

Chapter 4

Unsigned message deciphered by Diarchy codebreakers, delivered secretly by a Paladin during a brief visit while accompanying Saint Rainbow Dash

General,

The Saints bless all, but bestow the greatest power to those who can anticipate and act in accordance to their will without needing to be told.

Your predecessors have all sat idly by as heretic ponies at your borders plant their insidious roots, content merely to defend. But you aren’t like them, are you? Your acumen is higher, and the Saints will witness it, much as they acknowledged mine and made me one of their Paladins.

Seek those like-minded, and together you can triumph. Follow your heart’s ambition, and be rewarded beyond your wildest imagination. Stop waiting, and do what those less faithful won’t.

Your country will thank you for it.

Wispy clouds whipped past high in the sky above Emberglow as she and Rarity continued to soar south. They’d been flying for some time already, but between some convenient updrafts and their steady pace, they weren’t tiring much.

As her mind threatened to wander to uncomfortable places, Emberglow fidgeted with the sleeves of her Discordant robes, finding the familiar fabric small comfort. She preferred these to her armor, at any rate.

The twin Knights Resplendent accompanying them - literally, as they were identical twin sisters - contrasted in their more striking armor. Rarity, meanwhile, was unclothed. Her “adventuring suit,” she called it.

Rarity had really come into her own these past few years. The confused mare out of time was now the confident, courtly, and composed co-ruler of an entire nation. Sometimes Emberglow even marveled that she had such an incredible mare as her partner.

She wondered what was going through Rarity’s mind right now. Wordlessly, Emberglow watched Rarity, hoping for some acknowledgement.

Rarity, catching her expression out of the corner of her eye, looked back with gentle eyes and a winning smile. Emberglow smiled back.

Soon, they were close enough to the mountain to make out the individual buildings in the mostly reclaimed city. There was the palace and its surrounding buildings in the complex, worn white stones shining in the daylight. However, as she and Rarity passed over the city streets, Emberglow noticed that the usual forms of ponies going about their business within the city walls were curiously absent.

Alarm bells went off in her head.

Emberglow turned, shooting Rarity a look of concern. “Of all the times I’ve visited as ambassador to Old Canterlot it was never this empty. Something’s off. Do you think it could be…?”

Rarity’s eyes only betrayed an unwavering determination. “If there is a duplicitous Saint in the city, so be it. There’s nothing we can’t face together, right?”

Like magic, Emberglow was reinvigorated, buoyed by her wife’s reassurance. “Right.”

Wind Tunnel and Wind Chime, their guards, also, smiled.

Emberglow shook her head to banish her remaining doubts, and the four of them broke off into a glide, descending into Old Canterlot. The sun cast jagged shadows upon the scene where it hit the myriad crumbling spires of the city.

Beneath those shadows, Emberglow discovered where all the creatures had gone. A large crowd of ponies and other creatures were amassed in Cathedral Row.

Still, she couldn’t help but notice Rarity’s impressed expression out of the corner of her eye. “Oh my, how lovely. They’ve built a veritable melting pot of worship. You can clearly appreciate each group’s distinct cultural values from the architecture. And that crystal tree transplant in the middle must be the memorial you’ve told me about, darling.”

“It is,” Emberglow replied, her thoughts elsewhere. She had planted that tree herself, to remember Flurry Heart. And Bubblegum. “As much as I’d enjoy giving you a tour, now’s not the time. We need to investigate.”

“Quite so. Saints or no, something notable is certainly transpiring, to occupy the attention of so many,” Rarity commented, her gaze fixed down below. “No sense in dallying.”

“Yes,” Emberglow said, before adding, “Let’s keep to the back at first.”

“A good idea. I wouldn’t want to derail proceedings with my presence,” Rarity noted, sounding a bit coy.

Emberglow failed to hold back a giggle. It was the small things.

Still, Rarity was back to business shortly, and she turned to their guards. “We’re ready. Please take the lead and cover us.”

Wind Chime and Wind Tunnel both nodded before descending.

Course set, they carefully banked towards street level in a wide arc. Emberglow kept her good eye fixed on the assembled creatures. They were all bunched together in a thick semicircle centered on the least visually impressive but most inviting of the Row’s constructions, tiers of wooden benches dug out of the earth forming a small storytelling amphitheater, the centerpiece of bat pony faith.

The seats were packed, so a good chunk of the surrounding hoof-worn road was further occupied by compressed bodies nudging and jostling each other for better views.

At least, she hoped that was why they were shoving each other.

Due to their low approach, Emberglow was unable to make out the figures in the middle. But as she got closer, she was able to recognise a good number of familiar faces, including old schoolmate Astrolabe, Grand Master Ambrosia of the Radiant, and many of the Knights Angelic escorting her.

However, the blood rushed out of Emberglow’s face when she spotted her parents Textile and Needle Point sitting opposite them on the far side of the amphitheater.

Memories of crushing past visits to their new shop in the city flooded back. Her tail twitched as her hooves contracted into her barrel. Her teeth clenched behind her lips.

Noticing, ever attentive as she was, Rarity hummed reassurance. “What is it?”

After a beat, Emberglow said only, “My parents are here.”

Rarity hummed in sympathy, her expression firm. “We don’t need their approval. We’re adults, too,” she stated plainly.

Emberglow sighed, letting her emotions escape with her breath. That pressure wasn’t healthy. “Well, whatever this commotion is, it’d have to be big to get Mom and Dad to leave the store at this hour,” she noted.

“You’d know better than I would,” Rarity replied. “I can only recognize a scant few faces.”

Nodding once, Emberglow bled off her remaining speed and touched down softly behind the twins, Rarity landing by her side with a sweep of her elegant wings. As Rarity perked her ears, straining to hear through the susurrus of the townsfolk, Emberglow gestured to the most knowledgeable pony with room nearby: Grand Master Ambrosia.

The four of them quickly walked up to her, the Knights all exchanging perfunctory acknowledgements. Casting a furtive look through the crowd, Emberglow spoke up. “Grand Master. Apologies for the interruption, but, uh, what’s going on?”

Ambrosia didn’t flinch, instead pivoting around smoothly to face her before replying. “Ambassador Emberglow. Lady Rarity. Some strange ponies arrived out of the blue a while ago, calling themselves Saints and reciting scripture. Then everypony else started showing up, half to listen, the other half to argue. Frankly, I’m still unsure what to make of them, exactly.”

It looked like Heartwing’s contacts had been right on the money. “That’s why we’re here as well, to see for ourselves,” Emberglow explained. “Evidently we aren’t the only ones.”

“Have you seen them?” Rarity asked. “Are they truly so convincing that Knight and commoner alike would believe my friends have somehow come back to life after over a thousand years?”

“It’s not just your old friends: One of them is the spitting image of you, Princess Rarity,” Ambrosia said through pursed lips. “She’s claiming that the princess is the fake between them.”

Rarity’s tail swished back and forth in contemplation, her eyebrow practically shooting into her mane. “Is she, now?” Rarity slowly said.

“But all they’ve done so far is preach, right?” Emberglow inquired. “These Saints haven’t instigated any violence?”

“No, Emberglow, they’re still just debating theology,” Ambrosia confirmed. “Creatures are starting to get riled up, though. Listen.”

Emberglow did, going still as she strained her ears to pick out the individual speakers. “— cannot truly expect us to believe you, right?” exclaimed a mare with a faint lisp that identified her as a bat pony. “Besides, Rarity was already found!”

“Regardless, we are here. And we have forever served the Diarchs. Only by their grace have we returned to preach the truth.”

Emberglow stiffened. That voice! It sounded exactly like Rarity’s! She turned, wide-eyed, to look at her wife. Rarity’s own expression had morphed into something inscrutable.

“But why now, though, my Saints?” asked a young stallion in marine fatigues. “We could have used your wisdom years ago, before the revolt!”

It was not this Saint Rarity who replied, but a different mare, one with an odd accent, one which tickled with familiarity at the edge of Emberglow’s memory. “You may not understand yet, but a greater crisis yet looms, and now is the time to prevent it. Have faith in us.”

Rarity’s eyes widened in recognition, but she stayed quiet. Ambrosia, meanwhile, was eying them inquisitively.

“Tell us more about this crisis,” someone demanded.

At this point, Emberglow couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer, the need for understanding overwhelming her remaining patience. Without wasting any more time, she began squeezing her way towards the center of the semicircle and into the amphitheater proper, gently pushing past ponies who were too focused on the speakers to object. Soon, she got close enough to see.

Emberglow froze.

It was a second Rarity.

The resemblance was uncannily exact, save for her complete lack of a horn and wings. It was as if someone had plucked the Saint version of her wife right out of the collective imaginations of everypony who had ever read the Book of the Saints.

Standing next to Saint Rarity was the spitting image of the very mare who had bestowed Emberglow’s Element upon her. This Applejack had the same tied back, hay-yellow mane, and the same rich orange coat as the earth pony Emberglow had met once in that plane beyond. The only thing missing was her weathered hat. Instead, both she and Saint Rarity were clad in iridescent, single-sleeved robes the likes of which Emberglow had never seen.

Her jaw slowly hinged open. The very idea of someone impersonating her wife, using her name to act in a way she never would, had already filled her with discontent, but actually seeing the impostor was another beast entirely.

How was this possible?

Emberglow stood there, her jaw working to find an objection. Too many words wanted to escape at once, her mental and emotional gears catching and putting her at a frustrating loss.

Rarity pushed past her on her right and into the open with purpose and poise, the familiar, calming contour of her wings brushing against hers. Emberglow’s confidence returned as she stopped to watch.

“Oh my goodness, that iridescent fabric is simply stunning!” she declared, interrupting the Saints. Her eyes gleamed with wonder for a moment as she studied their outfits. But that wonder faded as she lifted her focus to the mare sharing her face. “However, that loose-fitting cut died with ancient Roam,” she continued, gesturing dismissively with a wing as her brows creased. “It’s prone to bunching up and wholly unflattering to the figure. If you’re trying to impersonate me, you’re doing a mediocre job of it.”

Immediately, the onlookers burst into a minor fervor.

“It’s the princess!”

“I’m seeing double!”

“Oh boy, here we go.”

“Now things are getting interesting.”

Emberglow’s heart was starting to race, and her focus bounced between the Saints, Rarity, and the awe on numerous faces. Even Emberglow’s parents bore resentment and lingering pain on their faces. The conflict in her chest tied her tongue, her legs stiff.

“If it isn’t one of the heretic ‘princesses’ of the Crystal Empire,” Saint Rarity noted with a hint of disgust. “A mare whose very body exhibits her hubris.”

Rarity barked out a laugh, holding a hoof to her chest. “I’m the one showing hubris? You, with the audacity to pretend to be a version of me that never existed?”

“Yeah, who are you, really?” cried a pony in the crowd.

“It’s not audacious, it’s the truth,” Saint Applejack stated plainly. “Meanwhile, you are the one whose existence is impossible. Ours is backed up by numerous historical records.”

“That’s a load of rubbish and you know it!” Rarity snapped, her temper clearly fraying already. “I was never an earth pony to begin with!”

“No, you’re the fake! Arrest her!” a stallion in a blue tunic pointed, practically leaping from his seat. When Wind Tunnel forced her way toward him, interposing herself between him and Rarity, other ponies glared.

“Oh, be quiet,” Astrolabe interjected, somewhere to Emberglow’s left with a pointed look down her muzzle. “I know petty when I see it.”

“Seconded,” said Ambrosia, who had pushed through the edge of the crowd herself by now and was struggling to observe the situation dispassionately, her tail swaying to betray her building agitation.

“Screw you, winged freak! That’s proof enough!”

“Why’re you here, anyway?”

“Yeah, leave us be!”

“Let the Saints speak, abomination!”

Emberglow suddenly realized exactly how to play this. “Forget these meaningless accusations!” she cried, cutting through the chain of disdain. “It’s simple. Whoever has more wisdom for every creature is the real Rarity,” she declared, head held high.

It might exacerbate the conflict, but at least this would give Rarity more openings to say her piece. Emberglow could see tensions were slowly heating up. Necks strained high over shoulders, more seated ponies were rising, harsh whispers echoed in the confines, body heat stifling even in the mountain air, even as the sun was partially shaded by the spires of the Row around them.

If anyone could keep this pot from boiling over, it was Rarity.

“Oh? And what might those ‘teachings’ be?” Saint Applejack said, looking down her nose at Emberglow, even though she stood below her in the bowl of the theater. “The same paranoid rhetoric that destabilized an entire nation, plunging it into chaos?”

Rarity grit her teeth in frustration. “That wasn’t me, that was Steadfast Word’s doing!” She paused, taking a deep breath and bouncing the coif of her mane. “As princess, I follow in Twilight Sparkle’s hoofsteps and endeavor to spread friendship to all.”

“‘All,’ you say?” cried an old mare wearing a full-length frock. “Including monstrous beasts like griffons and dragons?”

“Watch your tongue, mare!” shouted a black-coated griffon by the back wall. The pair glared at each other in contempt.

Rarity held up a hoof, Wind Chime leaning to the side to make space. “In the Crystal Empire, people don’t need to hide who they are, or who they love! All races are treated with fairness, dignity, and respect. The same cannot be said here.”

A wing snapped. “Of course not!”

A hoof stomped. “Some races simply do not belong in polite society!”

A voice cracked. “We can’t trust you!”

For each loyalist rejection came a counter from one of Emberglow’s comrades.

From Wind Chime: “She has every right to speak!”

From the griffon: “Strive for Harmony, hypocrite!”

From one of the Knights Angelic: “Keep it civil, or we’ll remove you from our city!”

The rising tension made Emberglow reel as the crowd buzzed and vibrated like a wasp’s nest, liable to unleash a frenzy of stings at the slightest provocation. A seed of fear planted itself in her gut.

Meanwhile, Saint Rarity was an ocean of calm in the storm as she made eye contact with Rarity. “These responses illustrate our judgment clearly. So long as there is disunity amongst people, there will be fear. Griffons, dragons, these creatures have a right to live in happiness like ponies do, but that happiness is best found among their own kin.”

Emberglow snorted at that. “Why did you paint other races - even unicorns and alicorns - as totally inequine, then?”

The corners of Rarity’s lips turned up in approval, beaming briefly at Emberglow in pride before facing the Saints. “I’ll tell you why; it’s because the Book of the Saints was written as nothing more than propaganda by a spiteful, power-hungry mare.”

“Exactly,” Emberglow added. “You’re just trying to smooth the edges off her vitriol.”

More ponies objected to her words. Emberglow hadn’t expected any different at this point, and she tried to tune it out and focus on those she knew nearby instead. Astrolabe was looking equally uncomfortable and overwhelmed, though to a lesser extent than Emberglow felt. Only her locked knees gave it away. Grand Master Ambrosia, meanwhile, showed only a deep concern.

“Not only that; why persecute ponies for being different?” Rarity was ignoring the interjected commentary and press of bodies around her to focus solely on the Saints. “We are all unique individuals to begin with; our Cutie Marks attest to that! Confining every last pony inside the same heterosexual, cisgender box and throwing them into a literal box if they try to leave is simply not healthy!”

“You tell ‘em! Let ponies choose!”

“But that’s heresy!”

“We’re not here to discuss that,” interjected Saint Applejack matter-of-factly, the loyalists quieting as she raised a hoof. “But we can if you’d like.”

“Don’t just let that slide.”

“Reprimand those fools!”

Emberglow turned to Rarity, who was also peeking sidelong at her. The look in her wife’s eyes was firm. They could counter any argument thrown at them, certainly, but did they want to, or should they encourage the Saints to cut to the chase?

Before Emberglow could decide, Saint Applejack chose for them. “The short answer is that the Diarchs do not actually object to same-sex or interracial relationships. They merely wished to quash the fear of difference and the violence that brings. The sin in these actions is only in the strife they invite, not in the actions themselves.”

The uproar from both sides was nearly deafening. Emberglow’s ears pinned to her skull reflexively. Their Knights immediately moved to protect them, same as with Ambrosia and hers. Surrounded by a sudden cacophony, Emberglow froze, only able to watch as the marine stallion from before burst from his seat and surged towards the Saints.

Before he could get close, a figure lunged out of the narrow, shadowy alleyway behind the amphitheater. They were at least twice Emberglow’s height, with spindly limbs that looked gangly and unsettling, yet they moved swiftly. With a single monochromatic, metallic arm, they held the marine back, humbly shaking their head ‘no’. On their temples, the number twelve was printed.

Presumably, this was one of the Paladins Emberglow had heard about, a direct protector of the Saints.

And thank goodness both sides had security personnel ready to de-escalate, Emberglow thought. This was already teetering on the knife's edge of turning into a full-blown riot, and the Saints hadn’t even gotten to whatever “revelation” they were presumably here to share! She could acutely feel the adrenaline in her veins.

Rarity visibly flinched in surprise, her expression aghast. Emberglow had no clue if this was a reaction to the ponies’ aggressive behavior or the Paladin’s somewhat ghastly appearance. Probably both.

The combination of the Paladin’s arrival and a pair of disapproving furrowed brows from the Saints managed to slowly return everyone back to at least the facade of calm, at least.

Saint Rarity took a breath. “It seems many of you have unfortunately misinterpreted the intent of our doctrine. Ponies are creatures of harmony by nature; prone to ostracize or even force out anyone who does not conform with the community. We only wished to prevent that suffering.”

“Bullshit!” cried the batpony from earlier as she wrapped a protective hoof around the mare next to her. “Not being able to be with the ones you love is way worse!”

“I never picked that up when reading the Book at all,” Emberglow’s dad Textile said, sounding confused.

“No, no, the Saints are making sense!”

“So, what, we’re supposed to accept the fillyfoolers and coltcuddlers among us now?” asked the marine.

“It would be nice if you did, yes,” went a Knight Angelic.

“But the Saints said ostracizing them is natural!”

“Then just keep your malice to yourselves,” insisted the griffon with a wave of a claw.

“Whether punished or not, they’re still permitting hatred!”

The old mare from before clapped her bony hooves. “Don’t question them!”

As the sharp fervor built, shouts overlapping and voices impossible to pick apart, Emberglow noticed the conflict on Astrolabe’s face. Her gaze flickered over the figures between them to meet Emberglow’s, rubbing one white-robed forehoof against the other in shame.

Mixed emotions churned fiercely in Emberglow’s gut, memories surfacing. Memories of her own intimate joy and brutal heartache. Memories of her once hostile interactions with Astrolabe and Green Fields, now together in exile. While they had made amends since, this did not erase their shared past.

With this clarification from the Saints, could Astrolabe’s life have played out differently? No active persecution to worry about, no avoiding relationships that might grow into love, only disdain from bigots and the pain of self-loathing to be outgrown in time.

As ponies traded shouts around them, Rarity squeezed backwards, pushing against the angry swell of the amphitheater beyond capacity with the Knight’s help. She brushed a hoof through Emberglow’s mane, her pupils darting across her face.

“Do not dwell on might-have-beens,” Rarity insisted, for her ears only. “You found your true self. And now maybe more ponies in this country will get that chance, too.”

Before Emberglow could thank her, a voluminous ringing sound struck her ears with almost physical force, drowning out everyone. It was so loud that dust was shaken off the roofs of the various churches and shrines around them. Blinking, Emberglow saw a large teal-blue bell of magical energy dissipate from above the Paladin’s head as the mighty chime’s echoes faded. They lowered their hand, a gnarled wand clasped between their fingers.

That was one way to do it.

Once everyone had ceased their protests and the Saints in the middle once more commanded full attention, Saint Applejack calmly surveyed the whole group. “Thank you, Silent Sorrow. To those who wish to pursue such relationships, I understand your feelings, but you must keep the big picture in mind. The Diarchs’ greatest wish is to build a peaceful whole for as many ponies as possible, and we work to achieve that. You must put your neighbors before yourselves. So for now, let us get to the heart of this visit.”

Saint Rarity hummed in agreement. “Yes. It is time we shared the true reason we came here, to the headquarters of my Knights. We bring tidings of a new blessing the Diarchs are prepared to bestow upon all who require it.”

“Indeed. It took a bit to get everything ready, but now we have,” Saint Applejack explained.

Emberglow watched carefully as she reached into her shimmering robe and pulled out a bronze pendant, hanging from a cord. She hoisted it high in her hoof with a triumphant pose. When Emberglow squinted, she could barely make out that it featured the Marks of all six Saints.

The Saints were… giving away accessories for national pride? Emberglow’s brow quirked. Even Rarity, normally a proponent of all things fashionable, looked baffled.

“What exactly is that?” Grand Master Ambrosia asked. The audience at large was still cowed into a tense quiet.

Saint Applejack met her clear scrutiny with a more level one of her own. “A solution to a different problem of division amongst ponies that this nation has faced since its inception,” she answered, gesturing to Silent Sorrow.

With a knowing smile, Saint Rarity took over, raising her voice to address the whole crowd. “These amulets, when worn and activated, can make you completely immune to the effects of unicorn magic! No longer will ponies need to cast out or execute their kin! So much needless suffering will now be prevented!”

Relieved gasps echoed throughout the amphitheater. Emberglow met Rarity’s eyes again.

Now, the fear in them was plain.

“Incredible!”

“That’s some miraculous magic, if it’s true.”

“How come nopony else ever thought of that?”

“We’re saved!”

Emberglow’s gaze whipped back and forth as she gauged the crowd’s response. The Diarchy loyalists were elated at the news, cheering, while most everyone else grew even more agitated, limbs twitching or tightening in barely contained ire.

Meanwhile, the Saints simply waved their hooves, signaling for the tumult to settle from their position in the theater’s dead center. They weren’t even glancing at each other.

With that single push in the wrong direction, they might very well lead the unity Emberglow and her friends were working towards to crumble before it truly began to show.

At the surface level, these amulets seemed like a simple safety tool. But fearmongering over unicorns and other creatures like kirin would only intensify as they spread through the Diarchy, regardless of any level of ‘integration’ they facilitated. Moreover, the potential ramifications went far beyond safety. They could easily also be used as anti-unicorn weapons. A chill swept down her spine at the thought.

Emberglow opened her mouth to object over the din. “Are you truly so blind that you would accept a workaround rather than open your hearts?”

“And that’s assuming the things even work,” added one of the Knights Angelic.

Rarity narrowed her eyes, her skepticism and dismay equally present on her face. “Indeed. That may be the case, but I doubt it. Why, such a powerful and specific charm seems entirely too far-fetched to be possible at all.”

“Hear hear!”

“I bet those things are actually pure horseshit!”

“You tell ‘em, Princess!”

Rarity watched the Saints intently, maintaining her poise even as Emberglow danced anxiously in place next to her.

Before they could speak, the loyalist old mare raised a shaky hoof and leveled a deep, sour glare at Emberglow and Rarity. “No poisonous theories! Let the Saints finish!”

“Yes, please, continue!” cried Needle Point. Emberglow’s mother’s voice was heavy with desperation. As other ponies echoed her mother’s sentiment, believers hungry for their words and wishing for surety, Emberglow’s mind whirled.

The Saints - and Silent Sorrow - did not look put off by the disbelief in the least. Once the exclamations had largely ceased, Saint Rarity nodded and cleared her throat. “We shall. As I was about to explain, Saint Twilight, guided by the Diarchs, has perfected a quick and easy process for crafting these amulets, one which our comrades are distributing to various metalworking and rune-carving factories as we speak. We will arrange for the nation to cover the low costs involved, to ensure they are available freely.”

Needle Point’s eyes widened. She and Textile’s necks craned to see over the crowd, rapt with attention.

Emberglow bit her lip at the sight of her parents completely wrapped around the Saints’ hooves. True, their faith hadn't wavered in the last few years, but it still stung to see it right in front of her. What Saint Rarity actually said hardly registered.

Desperate to look at anything else, Emberglow’s gaze settled on Astrolabe. She, meanwhile, was laser-focused on the Saints. “How can we believe you? You’d have to provide a demonstration, first,” she proposed.

“And we will,” Saint Rarity confirmed before facing her counterpart. “I would ask you to volunteer your horn, princess.”

“Me?” Rarity repeated, pointing to herself. “I assumed I didn’t have your trust. Much as you don’t have mine.”

“You have a reputation with the creatures here our words fail to reach,” her counterpart explained. “Better yourself than somepony unknown.”

“That makes sense,” Rarity began, “but I’m afraid I must decline.” Then, she fanned out her wings as much as she could with the limited elbow room. “Whatever game it is you are playing here with the people of Old Canterlot, I will not fall for it,” she declared.

“Good,” Emberglow said, voice low so only Rarity could hear.

“How dare you refuse!” someone reprimanded.

Saint Rarity, though, was nonplussed, and simply cocked her head to the side. “Oh? I’d assumed you would take the opportunity to prove us wrong in front of this crowd. If we were bluffing, we would have lost all credibility in an instant.”

“Which implies you aren’t,” Emberglow noted, her ears itching as she formed backup plans. Earnest forthrightness wouldn’t cut it in this situation. She pressed forwards slightly, jostling to get a better view of the amulet Saint Applejack still held.

“Of course the Saints wouldn’t lie to us!” yelled the young marine stallion, slamming his hoof down onto the side of the bench.

Emberglow took a deep breath, powering through the collective scent of agitated bodies. She really needed to regain her mental balance, too, do her part to counter the Saints’ objective here, now that it was revealed for all.

“Maybe they aren’t,” Emberglow began. “Maybe they’re just omitting crucial details instead. What’s the catch?”

Beside her, Astrolabe gasped. “A good point! Is there a downside to wearing one? These amulets won’t ricochet spells into bystanders, will they?”

“While your concern is appreciated, that’s not how they work,” Saint Applejack answered, peering upwards at them. “Saint Twilight ensured they were perfectly safe.”

“Obviously!”

“Then show us! Where’s that demonstration?”

“A public demonstration can certainly be arranged here,” Saint Applejack confirmed, nodding. “We’ll just need somepony to wear the amulet,” she said brightly, searching through the eager faces in the crowd.

However, it wasn’t a loyalist who answered. “I’ll do it. For both Raritys,” said Ambrosia. “As leader of the Knights Radiant, it should fall to me.”

Her Angelic escorts immediately voiced words of protest, but they fell on deaf ears. However, her resolve was clear for all to see, and she only needed to reply with a look to quiet them down.

While their eyes still shone with worry, her guards did not stop her as she marched down the steps to stand next to the Saints.

“Alright.” With a nod, Saint Applejack looped the amulet around her neck. “This’ll be very simple. All you need to do to turn on the amulet, Grand Master, is push the button in the middle. You’ll be able to feel it working. The same button turns it off. Once you are ready, Silent Sorrow will try to attack you with his magic. When wandcasting, a Paladin’s magic is essentially a far safer version of a unicorn’s, not tied to emotion or instinct.”

Turning to the Paladin, she added “Please demonstrate the spell you will use.”

Silent Sorrow nodded, raising his wand once more. With little fanfare, he pivoted to face a nearby metal rubbish bin nestled at the edge of the alley he’d arrived from, the ponies nearby wisely shuffling away to make space.

As many in the crowd began to whisper amongst themselves in anticipatory or nervous tones, Silent Sorrow charged his spell. Once it was ready, he pointed his wand at the bin, and three bolts of lightning struck it in rapid succession from above. Emberglow flinched at the light and noise.

Once the afterimage faded, she saw that the bin had fallen over, spilling its contents. Said contents were now little more than a pile of ashes.

Gulping, Emberglow looked back at Ambrosia, but she showed no signs of having second thoughts. Instead, she simply hit the button on the amulet and took a few steps back. A brave mare, indeed. Her composure didn’t waver as Silent Sorrow turned his gaze on her, either. A hush fell over the mass of onlookers as all watched with bated breath. In this single moment, the Row was at peace once more. Emberglow knew none present wanted Ambrosia harmed, albeit for different reasons.

Once more, Silent Sorrow readied his magic. The bolts of lightning struck Ambrosia dead-on.

Absolutely nothing happened.

There weren’t even any thunderclaps this time, let alone any transfer of force or patch of singed uniform. Silent Sorrow’s stance relaxed somewhat.

Sounds of awe and admiration rose from the crowd. Emberglow balked, and Rarity did the same next to her.

They did function. The gravity of this news was too big to play off completely, Emberglow knew.

Despite the evidence, others remained unconvinced. “Clearly that Paladin just used a different spell,” stubbornly scoffed the prior griffon.

“What’d you say?” uttered the marine, his voice laced with ill intent.

“Are you daft?”

“Calm down,” Ambrosia ordered, her expression hard. “The amulet worked true, though I cannot say how.” She squared her shoulders and pierced the Saints with her gaze. “However, I felt drained, lethargic while it was on. As if my pegasus magic was tapped out. Do you have an explanation for that? Moreover, are there other negative effects? Is unicorn magic the only type they block?”

The crowd took the opportunity to weigh in.

“Enlighten us, if you are, in fact, the embodiment of honesty!”

“How exactly do they work?”

“They’re blessed, didn’t you hear that part?”

“A valid question, Grand Master.” Saint Rarity noted, splitting her address between Ambrosia and the rest of the throng. “The method Saint Twilight used to craft these unicorn defense amulets, as ordained to her by the Diarchs, involves the generation of a localized field of magic nullification which closely wraps around the wearer’s body. Much like the battery in a rune gauntlet, all magical power needed to maintain the field is drawn from the surrounding area, so they’ll continue to work so long as they aren’t completely broken to pieces.”

“Of course,” Rarity hummed in understanding. “So it’s almost like an antimagic zone, only more compact.”

“What does that mean?” asked Needle Point.

Saint Applejack cleared her throat politely. “It means that, while active, these amulets will nullify all magic.”

As this addendum sunk in, renewed murmurs of confusion percolated through the crowd. Even some of the few Diarchy-loyal Knights seemed put off. Emberglow, too, was just as baffled as she was appalled.

If the amulets nullified magic in general, this presented even more new problems. While their amulets were on, pegasi wouldn’t be able to fly, earth ponies would lose their resilience, and Knights wouldn’t be able to cast! To Emberglow, this made it even more likely the amulets could be misused.

Meanwhile, Saint Applejack and Saint Rarity didn’t react much to the change in reception at all. They stood unflinching, as if barely invested one way or the other. As they met the prying eyes of those around them, the atmosphere fell into a silence so tense the air seemed liable to snap.

“We know what you are thinking,” began Saint Rarity, enunciating precisely, “Why do these amulets make it more difficult for Knights to do their jobs? However, this is the will of the Diarchs. Protecting the lives of adult unicorns and foals alike with these amulets will help widen the foundation of the Diarchy: her ponies. More hooves make for light work.”

Emberglow highly doubted that the four full Diarchy orders would be so quick to agree. Her old scars ached, her injured eye burned.

The griffon from earlier wound up voicing this for her. “Fat chance the Mystics will agree to that without a fuss, even if Saint Twilight herself is the one telling them.”

The grumbling of the crowd surged into another low roar. The disapproval of those the Diarchy indoctrinated drowned the amphitheater in noise, their previous enthusiasm for the Saints’ blessing fading with the unveiling of its full measure.

Ambrosia’s eyes darted about. Even as she still had the floor with the Saints, she was hesitant to speak in haste, her jaw working.

“Is that really going to make us any safer?”

“Keeping the peace is hard enough as it is!”

“The Vigilants and Mystics are stretched thin already, they shouldn’t have to worry about unicorns on top of all the other heretics!”

“Forget the Knights, having unicorns around helps us how, exactly?”

Rarity couldn’t help but flare her wings at that, scowling. “Maybe because they’re ponies who deserve to live their lives without being exiled or killed?”

Her Saint counterpart, however, was as calm as a pond at midnight. “Precisely. Being born a unicorn, and posing a danger to your friends with surges of wild magic, is a cruel existence, and the Diarchs wished to reduce the cruelty in the world through Saint Twilight, and all of us,” she said. “This way, all unicorns born in the Diarchy can keep living amongst their kin without having to fear for themselves or others. Today is a glorious day for all!”

Saint Applejack projected her voice to address the entire crowd, even the suspicious or forlorn. “You hear that? No longer will innocent foals be ripped from their parents’ arms forever. No longer will prejudice against magic cloud your hearts. Thanks to this gift, ponykind may at last be truly united!”

At this proclamation, there was a pregnant pause as those standing and seated alike soaked that in, adjusting their opinions. Emberglow shot Rarity an encouraging look. Now was the moment to press their fresh advantage, take the reins of this discussion back from the Saints’ grip.

Rarity got the message loud and clear, rearing back and stomping her own hooves, drawing all ears of the crowd with a sharp crack. “Integrating unicorns back into your country is unquestionably a good thing. But this doesn’t address the fear you feel, which is the root of the problem. Ponykind was united before segregationists reared their heads.”

“Yeah! Without that fear, these amulets wouldn’t be necessary!”

“We don’t need more tools of suppression!”

Giving silent thanks to her wife for solidifying her own resolve, and to her like-minded fellows, Emberglow took a step forward. “Exactly. A peace built atop roots of constant suspicion is no peace at all,” she declared, her voice thick and heavy with raw emotion.

“What she said!”

“And what’s stopping the clandestine killings of unicorns from continuing anyway?”

“I assure you, such actions will no longer be tolerated,” Saint Rarity said loudly. “We are already in the process of enlightening problematic Knights and clergy not amenable to this more moderate course so they may see the error of their ways.”

“Oh, is that so?” posed Ambrosia, scrutinizing the pair intently as she spoke. “Stop dancing around the issue. What undisclosed consequences does ‘enlightenment’ have for the ponies who receive it? ”

Saint Applejack met her firm glare without a trace of anger. “None at all. It simply lets Saint Twilight into their heart, so that she may supervise them at all times. With her watching their every move and conveying guidance when needed, it will be impossible for the killings to continue. All unicorns will be safe, from others and from themselves.”

“D-Do you truly mean it? What happened to my… my son won’t happen again?”

Emberglow had to do a double-take. It was her mother, stumbling out of Textile’s reach and towards the Saints. Her earlier outcry suddenly clicked.

My son, she’d said. Emberglow’s brother. Lucky Break.

Oh Celestia.

“It won’t,” Saint Rarity reassured, simply.

Needle Point collapsed to her knees a step before reaching her. Her body shook with grief as tears streamed down her face, sobs scraping her throat raw. Emberglow could only stare dumbly as her wife’s monstrous doppelgänger embraced her mother in a tender hug as dozens of creatures watched. From his spot further back, her father, too, cried silently.

For once, nobody interrupted the moment, not even the belligerent old mare.

Emberglow’s heart ached for her family, her eyes growing watery for the brother she’d never known, even as pangs of dread roiled in her gut.

The solemn, reverent façades of Cathedral Row, suddenly seemed to loom over her, more gravestones than sanctuaries. The deaths of unicorns, past and present, lives slipping through their collective grasps into the void.

Even Rarity was showing hesitation now, her ears folded as she draped wing over Emberglow’s back. But for once it didn’t really help. Her insides were still all twisted up. This whole situation was surreal.

Only once her mother had shed all her tears did the tableau seem to unfreeze. Ponies and other creatures traded looks of excitement, pride, doubt, and disbelief in equal measure. Enthusiasm for the amulets was returning, yet all manner of conflicting ideas were voiced, bouncing through the throng.

“I’m not sure how I feel anymore.”

“The side effects seem worth it, right?”

“The princess has to cooperate now. Otherwise she’s basically admitting foals should keep dying!”

A leaden ball settled into her stomach. Emberglow looked into her wife’s eyes, their muzzles nearly touching. In those perfect blue pools were emotions Emberglow could feel, yet had no words to describe, for she knew they were the same emotions she was feeling.

When Rarity didn’t, or couldn’t, piece together the right words to reenter the discussion, Emberglow took that responsibility upon her own shoulders. She pulled away, hammering her focus back into place.

“Okay, maybe the Saints’ plan appeals to some ponies,” she admitted, sparing a hesitant look towards her mother. “But it’s still built on the fundamental foundation of a lie: that they are the Saints, and thus have authority. Which they don’t, because they can’t be.”

At this, the remaining objectors present burst into a fresh furor of outcry and condemnation. Traces of bloodlust, a bubbling thirst for retribution, emerged behind the eyes of many in the throng at the mere audacity of somepony questioning a Saint’s fundamental integrity.

Emberglow bristled. Perhaps that had been a mistake.

However, Rarity nodded firmly to Emberglow before stomping a few paces towards the Saints, reaching the steps. She slashed a forehoof in front of her, cutting off their voices if not their animosity. “My dear Emberglow has a point. We still haven’t fully addressed the elephant in the room: that there are two ponies present claiming to be the real Rarity.”

“And I truly do not take offense to your claim,” reassured Saint Rarity with a small, magnanimous smile. Though it didn’t put Emberglow at ease in the least. Even the light of the sun now seemed to have turned harsh as the Saint spoke.

“Yes, you should admit you’re the fake!” insisted the crone, who waved a wrinkled hoof at Rarity. But a stern glare from Wind Chime cut off any further comments she may have had.

Astrolabe sighed, still near Emberglow. “Arguing about that won’t change the appeal these amulets clearly have for many ponies here. What matters in the end is what those with authority decide is best for the people under their care.” She turned toward Ambrosia. “Grand Master Ambrosia, may we hear your thoughts?”

Ambrosia, scratching her chin in thought, was suddenly drawn out of her self-possession as she noticed the crowd’s attention congealing on her. She blinked, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “Well… it could certainly be worse. Even with the amulets in play, unicorn foals will technically still have their magic, and they have a family to gain on top of that. The alternative is convincing the Diarchy to revise the Book, an impossible ask.”

The bat pony mare’s jaw dropped. “Grand Master? You can’t seriously be considering going along with all this, right?”

“At what level we should cooperate is her call to make, alongside Grand Master Magenta Mirror,” Astrolabe noted, glancing between Ambrosia, the bat pony, and other immigrant holdouts in the crowd. “But she’d probably also listen to the princess were she to weigh in,” she added, before turning to eye Rarity expectantly.

More faces spun Rarity’s way. She paused to carefully consider her response.

“There’s always room for friendship and compromise,” Rarity stated diplomatically. “While there are superior methods of maintaining peace and fostering harmony, with or without Knights, this plan the Saints have brought may have some small merit.”

While she’d schooled her bearing into one of outward neutrality, the undercurrent of conflict in her tone was obviously apparent even to those who weren’t intimately familiar with her mannerisms like Emberglow was. Having to actually agree with a point her own warped impostor was making couldn’t be comfortable.

Still, maybe the Saints could compromise, too.

Emberglow fluffed her wings and exhaled once, gazing down at Saint Rarity and Saint Applejack. “Can you wait on distributing the amulets so we can iron out any kinks?”

“Change the course set by the Diarchs? Preposterous!”

“Heretic!”

“Exactly. You should stay quiet and be grateful for all this,” said Textile. Emberglow hadn’t seen him stop crying. “This already sounds far better than the old norm. What part needs changing?”

Emberglow frowned. That was hardly the point she wished her father would make.

“The ‘old norm’ for you would’ve been to hunt down and slaughter just, kind ponies like Her Highness on the spot just because of what’s on their head!” exclaimed the bat pony mare.

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Why change what isn’t broken?”

“The old way doesn’t make our Knights’ job harder!”

“Only those unsightly creatures like that devil princess right there need be hurt!”

“How dare you, murderer!”

“Do not stoop to that barbarous level!”

“But it’s what we already do?”

“Do you want to be arrested right now?”

Emberglow reeled. Whatever unexpected changes these Saints’ coming wrought, it would be difficult for them to twist her birthplace into anything worse than it already was.

Emberglow bit back a retort in defense of her beloved as Rarity took a calming breath. “I very much do not appreciate what some of you ponies are not-so-subtly suggesting,” Rarity noted, her tone carrying an angry undercurrent. “I’d rather wear one of those amulets myself than let anypony else lose their horn on my watch.”

The thought of her wife losing her horn again nearly made Emberglow double over in sympathy. Her composure was certainly beginning to fray under stress as old emotional wounds reopened. A few more tugs on her metaphorical string, and she could very well unravel. If this escalated any farther, Emberglow would need to just grab Rarity and fly off, then take time to pick up the pieces and put herself back together.

“Then why don’t you?” the marine stallion asked, eying Rarity. “It’s not as if you need to have magic to command that faithless country of yours, right?”

“No, but she does need it to raise and lower the moon,” Emberglow pointed out matter-of-factly. “I’ve watched her do it.”

Astrolabe’s brows rose at that. “While I don’t necessarily go by the Book there, I still find that notion very hard to believe. The sun makes light and heat by itself, it probably moves by itself, too.”

“That has to be wrong,” Textile countered, frowning as he shielded Needle Point’s ears by holding her head against his barrel.

“It is,” Saint Applejack said in confirmation.

For an instant, Rarity looked dumbfounded, but this was quickly replaced by a dismissive huff. “Surely you can’t mean to imply that you Saints could move the sun and moon in mine and Sunset’s stead?”

“Of course not,” Saint Applejack elaborated. “That is the domain of the Diarchs. They have always moved them.”

“You would say that, wouldn’t you?” Rarity wore a smug grin. “Then how about another demonstration?” She opened a wing, sweeping it upwards as she stepped further forwards. “Go ahead and ask your ‘Diarchs’ to move the moon right now, put it in the sky above beside the sun, for all to witness! If they can, that is.”

Hope glowed anew in Emberglow’s chest at Rarity’s idea. As if the two of them would actually answer. Then the Saints would be discredited in front of the entire city for real this time. Then they might be able to halt the proliferation of these amulets before it begins!

As the crowd speculated one way or the other, the two Saints shared a look, as if conferring silently, before Saint Applejack bored her gaze into Rarity. “Do you seriously expect the Diarchs would disrupt the order of the sky for everypony in the world simply to prove a point? For a creature who claims to have known them, you clearly don’t understand them.”

“Aha!” the batpony mare declared, pointing a hoof dramatically. “Did you hear that? She deflected!”

“She certainly did,” Rarity proudly confirmed. “And that’s hardly what I would call ‘understanding.’ That’s a logical inference at best. I knew Celestia and Luna personally, as ponies.”

She spun to face the crowd, raising her voice. “Did you know that Princess Celestia was a terrible actress, or that she was deathly afraid of chickens? Did you know that Princess Luna had a pet opossum named Tiberius, or that she would eat pineapples whole? I could share dozens of such personal anecdotes, if requested. If you truly knew them as well, you, too, could share stories of them not found in the Book.”

Her Saint counterpart narrowed her eyes, her tail flicking. “Even if we did, there’s no way to prove whose stories were true and whose were fabrications.”

Fresh murmurs began to percolate through the crowd, while others applauded Rarity or cried out objections. But even those who had been effectively calling for Rarity’s horn before were beginning to hesitate.

The emotional whiplash was straining Emberglow near to breaking, and surely others were feeling it too. Nonetheless, she pressed further. “That’s two for two now on times you’ve evaded our requests,” she said, smiling triumphantly. “Shall we go on, or are you ready to admit your true motives here? You’ve made your points and shared the existence of these amulets, yes, but you likely won’t accomplish anything more here today.”

“That’s right! Leave our city!”

“Keep this stuff in your churches!”

Even Emberglow had to admit that was a bit of a reach. Still, to the credit of everyone present, this did not devolve into another frenzied shouting match.

Or worse. Yet.

Instead, they simply waited to hear how the Saints would reply. But naked hostility lingered in many pairs of eyes. Some even looked ready to throw punches at the drop of a pin. Each of the Knights, and the Paladin below, were prepared to intervene should that happen, firm and alert.

“Perhaps we should return to the topic at hoof,” suggested Ambrosia, who held herself with practiced dignity. “I’m gleaning that you didn’t come here just to entreat yourselves to us before making this announcement; you wished to ask the Knights here to help distribute the amulets,” she deduced.

“That’s correct,” Saint Rarity confirmed. “We would like for all six of our orders, Radiant and Angelic included, to oversee this holy mission. As wise as we are, we don’t yet know the names and faces of everypony in the Diarchy, or their individual needs. Nor are there that many of us. That’s why we are entreating you to assist us, alongside the High General, Grand Master Magenta Mirror, and the others.”

“Better us doing it than these Paladins, at least,” Astrolabe said, her tail swishing behind her with anxious energy as she pointed at Silent Sorrow. “As with any prescribed remedy, the amulets won’t work for everypony, and could easily cause harm in the wrong conditions.

“If this is going to happen either way, I believe we should be the ones taking care of it,” added one of Ambrosia’s escorts. “What do you think, Grand Master?”

She took a long moment to mull this over. The creatures hanging on her response instantly quieted as she eventually resumed speaking. “I will need more time to ensure these nullifying amulets are passed along freely and responsibly. And to meet with the other Grand Masters.”

Touching the single amulet still around her neck, she continued. “You can leave this one here with me. And I would also request samples be distributed to the Orders. But know that I would have appreciated being briefed about this in advance. Saints or otherwise, making a public spectacle of a new innovation to entreat favor for your own aggrandizement isn’t how professionals operate.”

“All that we do, we do to reinforce the unity the Diarchs require,” Saint Applejack rebuked, even as some of the crowd began to protest on their behalf. “But I understand, and we will take your feedback into consideration. Saint Twilight can pause the distribution to all outside our Orders for now.”

Emberglow sighed in relief, the remaining adrenaline leaving her body. She now found herself emotionally exhausted. “Are you finished?” she asked. “As delicate and important this issue is, I imagine you, and many creatures here, have other responsibilities to return to.”

The Saints didn’t speak for a long moment.

“Say something!”

“Lady Emberglow here is correct in that we’ve said all we needed to,” Saint Rarity eventually said.

“Then I suppose this is goodbye?” Emberglow posed. “The residents of Old Canterlot can take it from here.”

Only after having another wordless exchange did Saint Applejack clear her throat. “Yes, it seems our visit today is at its end. We trust you to evaluate the amulets and begin their distribution shortly, Grand Master Ambrosia. This will cement the Diarchs’ satisfaction with you.”

“Come along, Paladins. Yes, you as well, Shockwave.”

Instantly, a shape descended from above. A second Paladin had been hidden behind the steeple of one of the churches, standing on the roof! After landing in an empty spot beside Silent Sorrow with effortless ease, Shockwave inclined their covered head, marked with a three.

Saint Rarity gestured with a foreleg, and the nearby ponies stood from their spots on the benches and shuffled off to the sides to make a wider aisle up the tiered rows for the four of them to leave single-file. The Saints climbed up with their heads held high, saying nothing as their robes scintillated in the light.

Paladin Shockwave, following behind them, whipped their covered head around to study the shorter creatures around him. “Did you find meaning in the words of the Saints?” they posed. “To find greater meaning in one’s existence… there is no greater pursuit.”

On that, at least, Emberglow could agree. She wondered what meaning the Paladins themselves got out of all this.

“Please disperse peacefully, all of you,” Saint Rarity added. “Return to your normal routines. Saint Applejack and I have other places to visit our wisdom upon. Safe travels and a blessed day to you all.”

The four of them soon vanished completely beyond the crowd.Upon their departure, the oppressive weight of the impending maelstrom abated, for now. Loyalists dispersed from the semicircular arrangement and melted into little cliques, departing for their own homes or other destinations. Others departed one after another now that the spectacle had run its course, many going right back inside houses of worship on the Row itself to gossip about the fallout of this fresh development.

The rest waited, forming a line in front of Ambrosia, asking what tests she would perform, or if they could try the amulet out for a bit. The Knights Angelic were watching very carefully to make sure nobody on either side made trouble.

Only now did the tension begin to bleed out of Emberglow’s body. One wrong move, and the assembled creatures could have coalesced into a violent mob, crashing through the city in an avalanche. Emberglow counted her lucky stars that the Saints had only made requests, not demands.

She huddled close to Rarity. Just leaning into her helped settle Emberglow’s nerves, but more words, even calming ones, wouldn’t come. Rarity, too, was silent, stiff apart from her wandering eyes.

Rarity was trying to hide it, but Emberglow could tell when her wife was afraid.

Emberglow looked away, eyes roving about for a distraction. The hateful crone was slowly hobbling away on old joints, spitting phlegm onto the stones over her shoulder in contempt in Emberglow and Rarity’s direction.

Other couples and families of all kinds held each other much as they were, sheltering from the past and future in each other’s hooves. Her wings tensed involuntarily as Emberglow made eye contact with her parents, who watched them with undisguised shame and pity.

Sighing, Emberglow turned to Rarity. There wasn’t anything left to be done, here. If those Saints, or any others, returned in their absence, she could trust her many allies here to act as opposition in their stead.

“Should we follow them, you think?” Emberglow asked.

“No,” Rarity replied, tiny cracks of her own mental exhaustion only Emberglow could recognise peeking into view. “We’re bound to run into them again eventually, so long as we all seek to change the Diarchy.”

Emberglow flexed, cracking her spine. “Then let’s go. Heartwing and Terminus will need to hear about all this.”

Chapter 5

A journal entry dated over five years ago, written in cheap pencil. The page is bookmarked with a dog-eared corner.

I flinched as an uncontrolled surge of magic tried to peel itself out of my horn, but it was stopped by the inhibitor ring they’d placed on me. Instead, it rebounded and kept building. The resulting headache was painful, but nothing compared to what I was already feeling.

If only the others had one of these rings. If only they’d tried. If only they’d cared.

As my eyes watered, the icy princess who had thrown me in here stood just outside, accompanied by her guards. Once again, I was deemed fit only for isolation. That hurt, too.

Everything hurt. And no matter what I’d tried, the happiness of my childhood remained elusive. Taking food and riches, buying the services of the most attractive mares, it wasn’t the same. They all left, afraid, or succumbed to the magic I couldn’t stop. I had kept trying anyway, and now look where it got me.

In that moment, I decided. If I couldn’t be happy, then those who so callously cast me out without a second thought couldn’t be happy either.

As the princess leveled her stern gaze through the bars, I met her eyes, brows creased. “There’s something I now know I need to do. Someday, I’ll get out of here.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” she replied imperiously. “I’d advise you to think about what you’ve already done. You’ll be in here for a long, long time, unless you do.”

“I had no control!” I exclaimed, slamming my hoof on the floor. “It just happens!”

“Maybe. But maybe not. Either way, for the safety of the Empire, you’re staying here. Your magic surges are simply too dangerous.”

As the princess and her entourage left, slamming the door shut with an echoing clang, I continued to stew, my anger brewing. With the ring, I couldn’t even go nirik.

She wouldn’t listen to me? Fine. I wouldn’t listen to any of her ponies.

All I had left was to return my pain to my people.

Princess Sunset Shimmer was not having the best day. Which was ironic, considering she was responsible for bringing day about.

Groaning, she slumped over the marble desk in her royal office, staring forlornly at the double-high stacks of critical paperwork to authorize in front of her. She’d already spent most of the morning making sure her new school was up and running properly, only for all these documents to dominate her schedule all the way into the afternoon. With Rarity out on a mission alongside the other Elements, she was left to pick up the slack. It was certainly an important mission, and Sunset wouldn’t shirk her responsibilities, but she could still complain about them, decorum be damned.

“If the old me knew just how much work it was co-ruling an empire, she really would have listened to Princess Celestia more,” Sunset mused, picking her quill back up in her magic and taking the next form off the pile, a resource requisition from the infrastructure ministry.

“Ah, but then you wouldn’t have been the firebrand we needed during our time of crisis, Princess,” said her secretary. Her voice was faint, but still audible through the hardwood door.

“Thanks, Miss Icicle,” she responded, raising her head to glance at the door. She took a deep breath. “And yes,” she continued, doing her best to sound as noble as she didn’t feel, “now that I’m in a position to help far more creatures, I’m going to keep doing everything I can and then some to make sure everyone can live peacefully. Including putting up with all this…” Sunset’s expression twisted slightly, but she admitted, with some effort, “admittedly necessary bureaucracy. I know you and the rest of the staff have even more, but that doesn’t make these forms any less boring. Honestly makes me understand where Rainbow was coming from when she constantly complained about homework.”

“I wouldn’t know about that, Princess,” Icicle replied tactfully.

Sunset smirked at that. “Still, I suppose I appreciate what time I do get to spend with my friends even more, now.”

“Are you implying I’m not a friend of yours?” she asked.

Sunset couldn’t tell if she was joking. “I’d like to think all of my colleagues are my friends, from you to the Empress.”

Icicle did not reply. Perhaps she was smiling.

Shaking her head with a bemused grin of her own, Sunset put her muzzle back to the grindstone, focusing on completing her work properly without compromising speed. Leaving something ponies needed fixed unaddressed for too long was almost as bad as making the wrong call.

She made significant progress tackling the stack before she was interrupted. Miss Icicle’s voice emerged from the other side of the door, poking a hole in the balloon of her concentration. “Princess Sunset, Knight Colibri is here to speak with you regarding an urgent matter.”

In Sunset’s experience, “urgent matter” was code for “something has gone terribly wrong and you need to fix it,” though she would’ve wished to help the kind mare even if they weren’t boss and subordinate.

Sunset dropped her quill and rose, stretching her neck before trotting to the door.

The outer office was made to appear far smaller than it was by many filing cabinets. There, across from Miss Icicle, Colibri was indeed waiting for her, wearing her gleaming Resplendent armor over her green coat, brow furrowed in concern. The pegasus’ pale purple mane was slightly more matted than she usually allowed. Sunset glanced briefly at her white-coated secretary, still seated at her own desk with a neutral expression, before addressing her.

“What’s wrong?” Sunset asked.

Colibri got straight to the point. “Last night, someone broke into the castle prison blocks. All of the top brass, including Guard Captain Paragon, are going to be meeting with the Empress. I thought it best to only have to make the report once.”

Well, that definitely qualified as an “urgent matter.” How hadn’t anypony been alerted immediately? The imperial guard was usually on top of things. “Lead the way,” Sunset ordered, standing tall.

Together, they left the office, and out of the administration wing of the castle entirely. Colibri wore her honed mask of professionalism as they cantered briskly past many other creatures with business in the palace. Whatever grim expression was on Sunset’s own face, it prevented them from being intercepted by others who might otherwise want to speak with her.

Sunset was not surprised that the meeting was taking place in the “war room,” a secure space in the middle of the barracks with a great, heavy table. The maps, charts, and schedules lining the walls contrasted with their cheerful pink crystal construction. The two sentries blocking the entrance had let them pass before shutting the door with a note of finality.

Inside, Empress Cadance, wearing her full set of elegantly curved, golden regalia, was already seated, looking pensive. Her well-being was still improving after she’d stopped her continuous spellcasting. Guard Captain Blade Paragon, a square-faced, sturdy crystal stallion with a red coat, short-cut blue mane, and matching five-o-clock shadow, was at the head of the table, multiple file folders set in front of him. The last pony present was Lady Life Flight, her silver-white mane glittering. She turned her bright yellow muzzle to greet Sunset and Colibri with a nod as they arrived.

Once they took their places across from Cadance and Life Flight, Paragon cleared his throat. “Ma’ams, here’s the situation. Last night, a single individual somehow infiltrated the city, and then the palace itself, totally undetected until they reached the dungeons. Additionally, two of the prisoners are missing.”

“Were the guards all asleep at their posts or something?” Life Flight asked, tail flicking behind her. “I thought they were more professional than that.”

“They weren’t sleeping. It was worse,” Paragon explained, hints of fear and anger in his voice. “I debriefed them this morning. One minute they were simply patrolling the halls, and the next they were coming out of unconsciousness. Nopony saw or heard anything until the infiltrator reached the dungeons. No casualties, though, thank Celestia.”

“Who could pull that off?” Sunset questioned, stroking her chin with a hoof. “Spells to dampen sound are easy enough to cast, but full invisibility? That’s advanced magic. Even I would have trouble maintaining that spell for long.” Her curiosity piqued, she made eye contact with Paragon. “Do we have any info on the identity of the perpetrator? And who did they help escape?”

“I’m getting to that, Princess,” Paragon said. “She actually revealed herself to the prisoners, asking if they wanted to leave. No name, but she apparently called herself a Paladin, and said the Saints sent her.”

“I remember the briefing, but… Paladins? The ones from those rumors of returned ‘Saints’ making waves in the Diarchy?” Colibri asked. Life Flight just snorted dismissively.

Cadance inhaled sharply. “The very same.”

“But that’s impossible, right?” Colibri said tentatively, her wings tensed at her sides.

“It is,” Sunset said, nodding. “But the alternative explanations were troubling enough to get the Elements to head over and investigate themselves.” She trusted their wits and ability to support each other enough that they’d be okay no matter the truth they uncovered.

Captain Paragon cleared his throat, a gravelly sound, before resuming. “So, this Paladin. The descriptions shared with us by the cooperative inmates are incomplete, as it was the middle of the night, but the major details are consistent. She’s supposedly bipedal, but thinner in shape than a diamond dog or minotaur, and probably wearing armor. Our best guess is that she’s an Abysinnian, but they haven’t been known to use magic, so it’s inconclusive.”

Sunset’s forehead creased in thought. That sounded awfully similar to what a human looked like. But the mirror portal had been destroyed long ago, and nopony had yet created a successful replacement. Moreover, they’d turn into ponies if they crossed through. What exactly was going on here?

She brought her attention back to the present as Life Flight spoke up. “I feel like the prison break is the issue we need to focus on, for the moment,” she noted. “Does it especially matter who did the breaking, as opposed to the identities of those two prisoners she helped escape? Who were they?” she asked.

“Ah. Yes, of course,” Colibri said. “Please, continue, Captain Paragon.”

“The Paladin technically assisted only the one. But yes, twocreatures are now missing,” Paragon clarified, indicating the folders in front of himself - personal files, Sunset noticed, though she could not read the names from where she sat.

“Oh no,” whispered Cadance, worry lines forming beside her eyes. “Were the guards…?”

Paragon shook his head, pursing his lips. “No, the guards are all largely unharmed, thank the stars. Minor injuries at most. Whether the Paladin could or couldn’t have killed them we can’t say, but whatever her capabilities, she only knocked them unconscious.”

Sunset’s emotions twisted at the news, her ears slumping. On one hoof, that could simply mean the Paladin - and by extension, the “Saints” who gave them orders - didn’t wish to cause unnecessary harm. The other possibility was that this mysterious group felt so utterly confident in their superiority that it didn’t matter how many creatures stood in their path.

Sunset very much hoped it was the former.

The five ponies at the table were silent for a few seconds more as they processed the news. Cadance, posture rigid and voice strained, finally broke it. “What about the prisoners? Who did the Paladin take?” By the sound of it, even the Empress’ patience was wearing thin; this was not the first time that question had been asked.

In lieu of a verbal response, Paragon nudged one of the folders forwards and flipped it open. Sunset didn’t recognise the mare in the mugshot, but apparently Cadance did, and she eyed the file with pity. “Turquoise,” the Empress murmured sadly, “one of the ponies who tried to kill me.”

Eyes widened all around, Sunset’s included.

“Is she a Knight?” Colibri asked.

“Yes. Jubilant,” Life Flight answered, already skimming over Turquoise’s file. “Certainly problematic, but less so than the Paladin who broke her out. Especially with that spinal injury.”

“I agree,” Sunset said.

This pointed to the sole mystery remaining.

Mentally bracing herself, Sunset sighed. “While this situation as described so far is bad, obviously, you wouldn’t need two alicorns and a Grand Master for a prison break, unless we have reason to believe the Paladin is coming back. That tells me the real problem is the second escapee.”

“And you would be spot on in your assessment, Princess,” Paragon said. He hoofed her the third folder. “This is what we’re dealing with.”

With trepidation, Sunset opened the folder, Colibri peeking over her shoulder. The first thing she noticed was that the prisoner was a kirin. Sunset had never even met a kirin before. She’d heard a few have moved to the Empire recently, but Sunset hadn’t run into any of them yet.

The prisoner’s coat was deep blue, their bushy mane white, and the scales beneath their sweeping horn a vivid violet. The look in their matching violet eyes was both outraged and full of deep sorrow. Also notable was their lack of any horn markings. From what she recalled, those served as the kirin equivalent of Cutie Marks, so for an adult kirin not to have any implied much.

She read through the first page of the file:

Crystal Empire Inmate Record

Prisoner ID: K013

Name: Gravetide

Race: Kirin

Gender: Male

Detention Category: Maximum Security - Magic Nullification Containment

Release Date: N/A – To Be Reviewed

Convictions:

21 confirmed counts theft

16 confirmed counts assault

9 confirmed counts unethical magic use

5 confirmed counts second degree ponyslaughter

Sunset stiffened. A thief and a killer. And that name certainly wasn’t doing him any favors.

But all of the counts were second degree, she realized. That meant none were premeditated.

“It’s Gravetide,” Paragon said, for the others’ benefit. Sunset’s head whipped around when she actually heard Cadance openly utter a curse.

To inspire such a reaction out of the Empress… this was serious. “Who is he?” Sunset asked. All eyes were now on Cadance. “And how did he wind up imprisoned here?”

Cadance turned away, staring off at nothing, carefully considering her words “Gravetide is perhaps one of the single most dangerous creature the Empire has encountered since Sombra. He isn’t malicious, though, merely unstable. Even as an adult, he has uncontrollable magic surges, and his specific talent makes them incredibly dangerous.”

Sunset’s lips pursed. He couldn’t control his magic? That was tragic, especially since that could theoretically be fixed with the right training! Taking a deep breath, she looked to Cadance. “Okay, so he’s extremely hazardous, but not through his own volition. Was he given any psychiatric help or magical tutelage?”

Cadance sighed, perhaps with regret. “Gravetide wouldn’t cooperate with a psychiatrist, instructor, or any other creature for long. He stubbornly refused to connect with them on any notable level. So we just kept him isolated with extreme caution and inhibited his magic.”

Life Flight frowned at Cadance in disapproval. “Still,” she said sourly, “it sounds like he should have been in a mental hospital, then, not a prison.”

Cadance looked ashamed to hear that. “And normally I’d agree with you, Life Flight. But hospital staff couldn’t handle the kind of violence Gravetide is capable of, accidental though it may have been.”

Here, Paragon cut in. “Gravetide’s magic manifests in a most dire fashion: it tears out souls. Sometimes minds too, in the worst cases.”

Life Flight blinked twice. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to ask you to repeat that,” Sunset said. “Because it sounded like you said he could tear out souls.”

With utter seriousness, Paragon dipped his head. “You did not mishear. He conjures metaphysical fire that sears the bonds holding the spirit to the flesh.”

“I saw each of his victims, Sunset,” Cadance elaborated, her tail pressed tightly against her body. “The best cases were those who got completely severed, in mind and soul, turned into vegetables. But in the worst, only the creature’s soul was gone, leaving their memories intact. Those victims become emotionless machines, uncanny mockeries of their old selves. For their loved ones, it’s… agony.”

“Sweet Celestia…” Colibri murmured, covering her mouth with her hooves.

Sunset reeled. Holy shit, this guy was a problem. Turning creatures into vegetables was one thing, but permanently warping someone currently alive into an empty husk of the creature they once were? She shuddered to imagine that. It was a fate she would never wish on even her worst enemies.

Actually, wasn’t this sort of thing exactly what the Windigoes had done to Steadfast? But Sunset shook her head; that wasn’t entirely a fair comparison. The Windigoes had been unrepentant monsters, devouring the souls of any and everyone.

Meanwhile, the report didn’t paint Gravetide as evil. It gave the impression his magic was like a wildfire. Without ill intent, spreading harm was simply the result of its nature. But controlling fire was difficult, so creatures inevitably feared him all the same. No points for guessing that lack of control was probably what got him exiled, which explained his presence in the Empire.

But exile - if that was what had happened - hadn’t been a solution, and they needed a real one.

“This brings us to the matter at hoof: how to stop him from severing anyone else,” said Paragon, crossing his forelegs. “Because the method we used to bring him in before is no longer an option.”

“H-How’d you catch him the first time?” Colibri sounded thoroughly spooked.

Grief washed across Cadance’s features. “It was Princess Flurry Heart. My daughter was always far better at the old techniques for resisting mental magic than I. With her strength, she was able to fend Gravetide’s attacks off long enough to incapacitate him.”

The silence that followed was both awkward and solemn. Even a year later, the death of the Princess, despite having not even met her, was like a knife in Sunset's heart. She found herself unable to meet Cadance’s eyes. No one else could either.

Sunset broke the silence. “That makes sense,” she confirmed, doing her best to bring the conversation back on track. “You need emotional independence. I was able to master that under Celestia pretty quickly.”

“Yes,” said Cadance, softly. “My heart is too naturally open to others for that.” She peered over her shoulder at her flank.

Sunset nodded, and found herself left to her thoughts. They were low on options and pressed for time. She had a pretty good idea of what needed to be done here, but the others weren’t going to like it.

In this moment, the weight of her crown sat heavily upon her head.

“First, let me ask you a few more questions, Captain,” Sunset began. “Did Gravetide escape on his own, taking advantage of the disabled guards, or did the Paladin take him along with Turquoise?”

“It’s likely he escaped on his own, afterwards,” Paragon said, tapping his hoof. “The other prisoners testified they heard galloping from the maximum security cells, but not until at least ten minutes after the Paladin took her. And none of them had a real reason to lie to my guards, especially since they elected to stay.”

“But how?” Colibri asked. “Wasn’t he inhibited?”

“It’s possible he still is inhibited. The Paladin could have unlocked the doors before asking if he wanted to go with them and then left them open afterwards,” Paragon explained.

“Do we have any idea where he is now?” Sunset continued.

Paragon shook his head. “No, Princess. But we know where he’s going.”

“Where?” Life Flight pressed, her wings tense.

In lieu of a reply, Paragon pulled out a threadbare journal, open to a dog-eared page. “He left this in his cell.”

Leaning forwards, Sunset and Life Flight both leaned forward to read it.

Sunset muttered to herself as she read. “If I couldn’t be happy, then those who so callously cast me out without a second thought couldn’t be happy either… All I had left was to return my pain to my people.”

When she finished, Sunset faced the others. “So Gravetide is out to get revenge on those he sees as most responsible for his situation: the kirin from where he grew up. To get there, he has to go by ship. Did you—”

“We already sent word to lock down the ports,” Captain Paragon explained. “The merchants will be annoyed, but they’ll live.”

“Good thinking,” said Life Flight.

Sunset nodded, continuing. “Yes, that’s great. But if Gravetide is smart, he’ll have thought of that too. Which means he has only one other option left: south, into the Diarchy, where we don’t have jurisdiction and they aren’t expecting him. And the Diarchy has enough problems to address already without adding surges of soul-severing magic onto the pile.”

“Sunset, where are you going with this?” Cadance asked, concerned.

At this, Sunset stood. “Simple. I’m going after him.”

“What?” snapped Colibri, also jumping to her hooves.

Cadance stared, her lips tightening into a line. Life Flight pressed a hoof to her brow in exasperation, leaning over the table. Guard Captain Paragon just folded his hooves atop the table and waited for Sunset to speak.

Sunset reached over to Colibri and gently rested a reassuring hoof on her shoulder. “I understand your reservations, Colibri. But teaching somepony else the spell to wall their minds off from magic like Gravetide’s would take too much time; it’s pretty advanced, and they’ll only have one chance. Who knows how many ponies could die in the meantime, even if we only spent a day practicing?”

“Are there really no other unicorns in the Empire who could help?” Paragon asked, scratching his stubble. “None of your students who might already know the spell?”

“Unfortunately, not yet,” Sunset replied. “Rarity is out, and we already established Empress Cadance can’t do it. So unless there’s another master wizard hiding in a hole somewhere around here, it’s got to be me.”

Colibri shut her eyes with resigned acceptance.

“If that’s what you think is best,” said Paragon, without judgment. “Empress?”

Cadance met Sunset’s eyes, testing what resolve she could find in them. After a long moment, the Empress spoke. “She can go. I’ll handle the Empire by myself, for now. I’ve done it before, after all.”

“Thank you, Cadance,” Sunset said.

Life Flight let out an exasperated huff, but didn’t argue. “Of course she’s charging right after him. Couldn’t have expected anything else.” She just smied at the others and shook her head.

“I suppose not,” Cadance mused.

“Still, I agree that going by myself is a bad idea,” Sunset said, pulling away from Colibri. “What I’m not experienced in is tracking down rogue creatures over long distances. I don’t know the first thing about scouting. So we need to find someone with talent there.” Her eyebrows scrunched up in thought. “But at the same time they need to be okay with putting themselves in a huge amount of danger if we actually do find Gravetide.”

“Hmm,” went Cadance, blinking. “Do you have anyone trustworthy in mind, Sunset?”

“As a matter of fact…”

The house was small, simple, and unassuming, fitting in nicely alongside the dozens of other suburban, crystal-grown homes on this street. The lawn was kept well-manicured by the occupant, and the mailbox in front was painted a cheerful orange, perhaps alluding to his past in the Resplendent.

From where they had been playing, small colts and fillies now watched from a respectful distance with their parents. Curious as to why one of their princesses was here, Sunset had said hello and wished them well before politely asked them for privacy.

Navigating a short trail of stepping stones, she knocked on the door before stepping back. “Hello in there; it’s Sunset Shimmer. Can I come in?”

The door swung outwards almost instantly. He must have heard the excited cries of the kids and already been close. Sunset managed a smile as she greeted him. “Long time no see, eh?”

Oak Chips, in the chitin, feigned shock, holding a hoof in front of his mouth. “Why, if it isn’t the Princess! To what do I owe the pleasure? I thought you’d seen enough of me, given you allowed me to semi-retire until the new Grand Master could be sworn in, but please, come in, come in,” he insisted, ushering her inside.

“Gladly, but I’m afraid this is business,” said Sunset.

Oak Chips nodded in resignation. Once he’d shut the door behind them, creating a modicum of privacy in his living room, the changeling sighed. Meeting Sunset’s eyes, he studied her expression in silence. Clearly not liking what he found, he frowned. “You know I’m retired, right? I don’t care how serious this is; I’m a brittle old bug.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Sunset said. “A razor with a bit of rust is still sharper than a butter knife.”

He circled around to lean against the back of a wicker chair. “But I’m still rusty. Why not ask my replacement? She’s more than capable. I’ve earned my rest after a lifetime of hard work.”

Sunset put on her Princess Face. “This mission requires special skills, Oak, and you have them.”

“So? You have other changeling Knights, and Knights with more energy than myself. Unless you need someone with the guts to argue with you, you have better options,” he insisted.

“Probably,” Sunset admitted. “But given the extreme danger involved, I thought I’d come to you first. You… always said it would be better if the young didn’t need to put their lives on the line first,” she added, melancholy.

She didn’t have to spell it out for her old Grand Master; a slump in posture made it clear he understood. She knew Oak still bore regrets over what had happened to his nephew. If given the chance to spare someone else with a long future ahead of them that fate, she knew he’d take it.

“Low blow, princess.” He shapeshifted a pair of eyebrows onto himself just so he could crease them for effect.

The display lightened her mood a little, but Sunset nonetheless could not afford to be idle. “I can’t command you anymore, so you’re free to decline if you wish, but at least let me tell you what we’re dealing with and the sort of assistance I’m looking for. At that point I have a feeling you’ll accept.”

At this, Oak Chips sighed, waving a hoof. “Fine, go ahead.”

So, she told him, abridging greatly but omitting nothing.

When she’d finished, Oak Chips paused, stood fully, and turned away. “I’ll pack light,” he declared.

And the hunt was on.

Chapter 6

Transcript Excerpt of Lady Turquoise’s inauguration speech as Grand Master of the Knights Jubilant, three days after her return to the Diarchy.

“I thank you, my brothers and sisters, for the great honor - and greater burden - I now bear. While it was through the grace of the returned Saints and their Paladins that I now stand before you all today, after a year of chilling captivity, made whole again, it is your support which fills my heart with warmth.

“It is my hope that together we can put the Order Jubilant back on course after much time adrift. Now, more than ever, we need to present unified guidance, a purposeful message for any who may have lost certainty in the wake of recent, troubling developments. And through enlightenment, anyone can glean the insights the Saints may provide to us, without room for miscommunication.

“A beautiful new era is beginning, my friends and comrades! With Book in hoof and wisdom in heart, we shall bring peace, unity, and stability back to our great country! And then, civility at last to the entirety of the world! Not with force or fear, but the truth inherent in our gospel!”

Emberglow sat, stewing in a morass of mixed emotions. Rarity was curled up beside her. Both of them just barely fit atop the decayed remains of a chaise lounge, the half-rotted wood threatening to give out at any moment. The cushions were all long gone, replaced by a fresh blanket, and the windows were boarded up, only allowing slivers of dusk’s light to peek through.

The safehouse was quite near a building Rarity was intimately familiar with, the Canterlot Carousel, hence why she had been able to teleport them almost directly to it. Unlike the boutique, this room was still in disrepair. It had been an underground gambling den for the rich and daring. Much like the Diarchy and Crystal Empire today, gambling had been illegal in most places back then, too, according to Heartwing. Rarity was surprised to learn such a place had even existed under her muzzle so close to the Carousel.

But, well, it had been a well-hidden place for clandestine activities back then, and remained such now.

While the Houses of Revolution - embassies of the Discordant and Resplendent in the city - were far more well-guarded, they were also obvious targets for the ire of any angry loyalists. Rarity had suggested they might be safer beneath a veil of secrecy than behind any number of spears and rifles, hence this course.

With the shot glasses cracked, playing cards reduced to dust, and the once vibrant reds and greens of the decor faded, the gambling den wasn’t much to look at. The ancient room was illuminated by the flickering orange light from a couple of oil lamps, too dim to be spotted from through the intentionally opaque windows unless one was already right outside.

It reflected her inner turmoil rather well, Emberglow thought.

Across from them, Heartwing laid beside Terminus as the pegasus leaned against the wall. Throughout their telling of the events that had transpired on Cathedral Row, the stallions’ faces had run the gamut of reactions. Details on the amulet plan prompted everything from confusion and outrage to great sympathy. Heartwing and Terminus’ encounter with Saint Twilight and Saint Fluttershy had sounded downright balmy to Emberglow in comparison, even with them being run out of the city.

Rarity took a long, centering breath, shifting beside Emberglow. Emberglow squeezed her reassuringly with a wing, despite her own nervous instability. “That covers most everything which occurred on our end, I believe,” Rarity finished, her tone clipped and all business. “Which brings us to the present.” She shot Emberglow a brief, kind smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

There was a pregnant pause as the two stallions absorbed the full gravity of their words, exchanging sympathetic looks.

“Dear Luna, I am so sorry you had to go through all that,” Heartwing said, shaking his head. “If I’d known something like that was going to happen, then I would never have let you two go by yourselves.”

Emberglow sighed. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. If we had known, we wouldn’t have needed to go in the first place.”

“Even your own parents…” Terminus muttered, his ears lowering. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through, Emberglow. I haven’t spared a thought about mine in years.”

Though her gut churned anew at the reminder, it wasn’t as bad as it had been in the moment. Her brows rose in curiosity. “You know, I don’t think you’ve ever really mentioned your family at all to us before, Terminus.”

At her statement, Terminus shrugged. “That’s because they really aren’t my family. I share my life with you, not my parents.” He looked pointedly from Emberglow to Heartwing, who let out an affectionate hum as the stallions hugged one another.

Rarity cooed in turn, copying them and holding Emberglow tightly with her own soft, white wing. “Terminus has a point. Maybe it’s time you put them out of your mind, rather than let their disappointment affect you.”

Emberglow hummed and looked away, frowning. “Yeah. I don’t particularly want to unpack all this right now, not when we have more important matters to worry about.”

“Your emotions matter, too. What would Topaz say?” Terminus pressed.

Probably that she was just clinging to old memories and making herself sad for no real reason. But Emberglow said nothing.

Still, Terminus must have seen something in her eyes. He nodded and faced Heartwing, his expression laden with unspoken weight. “Letting go of ponies who let you down can be hard. But often, it’s for the best.”

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” Heartwing sighed, pouting. “Memories of the good times are worth keeping in your heart. Much as how the Carousel just down the road was worth preserving.” He gestured to Rarity.

Rarity hummed. “That is true, yes. Though battered, my shop still remained.” She paused, looking at each of them in turn. “We’ve all lost ponies important to us. Memories are what we saved of them.

“And despite everything, we’re still here. Still together, still ourselves.”

“Through whatever happens. ‘Til death do we part,’” Emberglow whispered. She nuzzled Rarity, feeling her heartbeat beneath her fur.

She and others managed small smiles.

“We should rest, take the time to process all this,” Heartwing declared as the moment faded, his grin fading. “I’m sure the others in Old Canterlot are thinking along the same lines.”

Terminus hummed in agreement. “Yeah. And it’s getting late.”

Emberglow peered over Rarity’s head toward one of the windows; between the heavy curtains, she could see a hint of the red glow of sunset. Between waiting for Heartwing and Terminus to fly over, recomposing themselves as best they could given the magnitude of the day’s events, and sharing their respective experiences with the Saints, it was already dinnertime.

“Some self care of any sort would be heavenly right about now,” Rarity sighed. “If we were still back at the palace, I’d already be halfway to the spa, but alas. Eating a bit is fine instead, I suppose.”

Emberglow smiled at that, but it was a fleeting thing. “It’ll still be there when we get back.”

Heartwing chuckled and shook his head, gesturing to Terminus. Without being told, he helped Heartwing back into his wheels so Rarity could stand up and extract the food from their bags. Emberglow didn’t move, tucking her hind legs even more deeply beneath herself.

Though she didn’t have much of an appetite, Emberglow forced herself to eat with the others, nibbling on trail mix and tough, compressed bars of hay between sips of water. Rarity’s muzzle had initially scrunched up in displeasure at the lack of better options, but she soon dug in without complaint.

At first, her wife’s brief distaste brought forth a grin on Emberglow’s face, but then her thoughts returned to herself.

Everyone had their own little quirks and shortcomings. Rarity’s were adorable, but her own…

Especially after they’d recounted everything, Emberglow’s own shortcomings stuck out all the more. Her vast medical knowledge, built up over years of hard work and study, mattered not when the communicable disease being spread was propaganda.

Her words alone hadn’t been enough to treat the cause, only delay the symptoms. She hadn’t done well enough. And that did not bode well for their chances of resolving this brewing conflict peacefully.

The only sound in the safehouse was that of chewing for some time, until Heartwing broke the silence. “You know, I have a theory. About where these Saints are actually from. But take it with a grain of salt.”

“Oh?” purred Rarity, her interest piqued somewhat. She set down her bag of trail mix, turning her head to face him. “And where would that be? Tartarus?”

Emberglow’s tail twitched. Rarity’s delivery had been so perfectly straight that she couldn’t tell whether her wife was joking or not.

But Heartwing responded with another question. “You recall the physical appearance of the Paladins, yes? Tall and thin, only four limbs?”

Rarity nodded.

Terminus raised an eyebrow, swallowing a bite of hay. “It’s difficult to forget. They’re as horrifying to look at as what they might do if left unchecked.”

“They’re not… that bad,” said Emberglow before turning to Heartwing. She didn’t want to imagine what Terminus was thinking. “Yes, I recall their appearance. I figured they were from an exotic bipedal race like Abyssinians or Minotaurs. It’s a big world; lots of unexplored places.”

“Right. There are actually many creatures that could fit,” Heartwing said, meeting her eyes. “Besides those, they could be some rare Diamond Dog breed, wingless Gargoyles or Harpies, or even small Cyclopes or Stormborn. All we can really rule out are Changelings at this point.”

“Right, the Diarchy would have caught them, were that the case,” Rarity swished her canteen in her magic as she considered this. “I suppose we’d need to unmask one to tell for certain.”

“Easier said than done,” Terminus noted before taking another bite of his trail mix. “And probably not worth the risk.”

“Half of those creatures are basically myths at this point. The magic we saw could be attributed to any of them,” Emberglow pointed out, scratching the side of her head. “Unless one of you ponies knows something I don’t?”

“Even I've never met a Cyclops. So I have no idea,” shrugged Heartwing, munching on his bar.

Emberglow’s ears lowered briefly. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of something in Heartwing’s face that she couldn’t identify. He opened his mouth to say something, only to close it a moment later with a shake of his head. Emberglow wanted to gently ask him to share, but Rarity spoke first.

“Regardless, I don’t think knowing would change how we’re going to deal with them at all. So let’s not think about such things right now.” Rarity turned to plant a kiss on Emberglow’s cheek, redirecting her train of thought into a mental field of flowers.

She appreciated the affection. She always did. But right now she couldn’t bring herself to be as responsive as she could have been. Heartwing’s mere broaching of the topic caused Emberglow’s mind to race. They needed to know more. What was the Saints’ real objective? But she said nothing, setting down her now empty bag of rations with a sigh.

Part of her wished Topaz and Lofty were here for the extra support, but the other part was glad they hadn’t been forced to experience what she and Rarity had.

Terminus has also finished eating, and slumped onto his pack in an attempt to get comfortable. “Rarity, would you mind lowering the sun a few minutes early for us?”

Rarity tittered at that. “I didn’t break the schedule before, and I’m not about to now.”

“Mmm, sleep does sound good right about now,” Emberglow wheedled gently, her tone leading as she leaned into Rarity.

“Coming from you, I am tempted… but no,” Rarity replied, booping Emberglow’s muzzle. “You can wait twenty minutes with everycreature else.”

“Boo,” Emberglow pouted.

And wait they did, slowly getting settled in. The four of them made small talk, but there was no real energy in it.

Twenty minutes later, Rarity lit her horn to raise the moon. Despite having seen the display many times, Emberglow was nevertheless transfixed by the brilliance Rarity radiated as she moved the heavens. She was never forceful, merely giving the moon the magical equivalent of a polite nudge, but Emberglow’s awe remained.

As night fell, Terminus snuffed the lamps, wisps of smoke curling gently into the air. Then Emberglow pulled the covers of the simple cot she shared with Rarity overtop it.

Only the rhythm of Rarity’s long, slow breaths against her side managed to at last lull Emberglow to rest.

Before she nodded off, a fleeting thought danced across the peripheral corners of her mind: Heartwing had never actually voiced his theory.

Emberglow’s sleep had been cold and restless, devoid of dream and nightmare alike. She awoke tangled in the sheets, her fur matted, feeling like she’d only slept maybe half as much as she actually had before.

Blinking blearily, she pushed herself up, her mane tangled and twisted. Rarity at least managed a more ladylike yawn as she awoke, and Terminus and Heartwing both appeared to be attempting to look up and alert, but it was easy to tell that sleep had been equally fleeting for each of them.

Once she’d had time to get dressed, freshen up, and chug some tea Rarity made, Emberglow felt more like her usual self.

Emberglow at least felt rested enough to look back on yesterday with a more level head. The circumstantial presence of her parents had been somewhat distracting, but now she was totally focused on stopping the immediate spread of the amulets. They had time to turn things around. And Emberglow would certainly assist to ensure that happened.

After each of them had finished their breakfast, Emberglow re-tied her mane into her signature tight ponytail, ready to face whatever would come next. Rarity, too, was looking properly regal once again after a preening and much mane brushing. Heartwing stood tall in his wheel harness, and Terminus stretched his freshly preened wings.

“So, what’s the plan?” Emberglow asked, clearing her throat. “What do we prioritize first?”

Heartwing raised a hoof. “Before we get into that, I’d like to get a more updated picture of affairs. A Discordant Knight, Gossamer Tread, will be here shortly with the latest reconnaissance.”

“Ah, that sounds good. Let’s give them some time to arrive, then,” Rarity said.

True to form, only moments later, as if on cue, a pony pushed open the heavy door their pastel green mane tangled and matted. Between that and the weathered jacket they wore over their gray coat, Emberglow would have assumed they were a rough-and-tumble scavenger hunting for lost wealth had she not known better.

The moment the Knight was inside, Knight Gossamer saluted Heartwing. “Here with the latest reports, as requested, sir. And Highness,” they added, nodding at Rarity.

“You weren’t followed, were you?” asked Terminus.

“No, I made sure of it,” Gossamer confirmed. “And the perimeter is secure. I even checked the air, nopony’s nearby. If anything, it’s almost too quiet, as if no ponies have been picking over the ruins around here lately. There used to be at least one stallion.”

Heartwing hummed at that. “Well, I’m not going to complain about that. Excellent work.” Straightening his neck, he was all professionalism. “First, what’s the status of New Canterlot City? And more specifically, how has North Wind responded to the Saints? The pair Emberglow and Rarity met said they were operating behind his back.”

“NCC remains stable, for now,” Gossamer responded. “As for North Wind, he seems to have acquiesced to their presence and shared influence, at least in regards to the Jubilant and Vigilant. Word is they’ve pretty much already started taking over those two orders overnight, picking up the pieces Steadfast left behind and reorganizing. The Vigilant had a bit of a head start, but various internal factions were still divided, and the Saints promoted their cooperation.”

“That makes sense,” Terminus said, his tail swishing with unspent energy. “He’s smart enough to realize there would’ve been riots calling for him to step down if he didn’t.”

“Still, the Diarchy remains like a hydra. There’s internal tension we can exploit,” noted Rarity, flicking her eyes back to Gossamer.

“It is as you say, Princess. However, if I may, the High General’s decisions might also have something to do with this ‘enlightenment’ he and a bunch of Knights have already received from the Saints.” Gossamer sounded skeptical. “But details on that are sparse.”

“Some sort of subtle mind control?” Terminus asked, peering across Emberglow and the others. “I had meant to probe the Saints on that earlier, but then the crowd turned against us.”

“Yes,” Emberglow admitted with a sigh. “But some of the Knights here have a bit of experience dealing with mental magic already. I’m sure their respective Grand Masters have already put those in question on the case. If it is mind control, they’ll find out soon, and take steps to counteract it.”

“And if they discover anything, they’ll share it with us,” Heartwing assured. “But regardless of the method they’re using to manipulate the Diarchy, the latter is still the far larger and more active group.” He turned back to Gossamer.“What’s the current status of the Adamant and Mystic?”

“The blues? North Wind is keeping his grip there, though we’re already seeing friction,” they added. “Saint Twilight is apparently very convincing, not to mention Saint Rainbow Dash herself. The Mystics, meanwhile, have pulled in, being even more secretive than usual, which is saying something. Couldn’t get any info there one way or the other.”

“Fantastic,” Rarity groaned. “Would it have been too much to hope for a juicy tidbit or two to leak as we’re inundated with new conspiracies?”

Emberglow patted her shoulder consolingly with a hoof. “It’s probably not as bad as you’re imagining, Rarity. And even if it is…” she trailed off, taking a calming breath, “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, together.”

“I suppose. A mare in my position can never be too careful, though,” Rarity said.

“Right,” confirmed Heartwing. “I’m assuming the First Lady hasn’t made any moves yet either, correct?”

“Exactly,” Gossamer replied. “She and Grand Master Mirror are in the same position you are right now: still planning. Tensions in Old Canterlot remain high. For now, security has been tightened, but not much else has been done yet.”

Rarity nodded at that. “That’s plenty for now. Any overt moves would likely prompt the ire of the Diarchy at large.”

“Right. We can’t be hasty,” Heartwing noted, expression grim. “One stray spark, and the whole powder keg could go boom.”

Emberglow’s own ears pressed against her temples. “I don’t want another war,” she murmured. “Nopony should. Even if it’s a long shot, we have to be better, have to try settling this without bloodshed. Somehow.”

Terminus solemnly nodded assent. “In an ideal world, yes. But we should also prepare for the worst.” He looked over his shoulder. His rifle case rested against the wall.

“Rarity and I already put our respective guards and orders on high alert,” Heartwing said, stepping closer to his husband.

“I don’t like our odds if it comes to that, though,” said Rarity, her gaze distant. “If all the Saints and Paladins are as powerful and capable with magic as the ones you met, Heartwing, who knows what other tricks they have up their sleeves?”

Emberglow did not want to entertain the thoughts that image conjured. Her throat suddenly dry, she grabbed her canteen and took a few swallows before setting it back down.

Meanwhile, the others continued. “Speaking of, do the Discordant have any idea where the Saints are now?” pressed Terminus. “Is that even possible to know with all the teleporting?”

“It’s as you suspect, Sir Terminus, the Saints are proving difficult to track for that very reason,” Gossamer continued. Sorry we couldn’t find anything more,” they apologized, ears drooping.

“It’s alright, you did more than enough given the circumstances,” Heartwing said, waving off their self-deprecation. Then, he stomped a hoof, the dull crack echoing through the old den. “Regardless, let’s endeavor to resolve this in a civilized manner. The Saints seem level-headed, if nothing else.”

Rarity exhaled and ruffled her wings a little. “Yes. Of course. I’m sure if we extend an olive branch, or provide some other incentive, they’ll meet for negotiations. I refuse to accept that there’s no scenario where other ponies accept unicorns living as themselves in Equestria.”

“That’s the spirit!” Terminus exclaimed.

A ghost of a smile made its way onto Emberglow’s muzzle. “That said, since we’re definitely not going to threaten them, I’m not sure what ‘other incentive’ we could use to open negotiations with the Saints. What else do they even want?”

“Honestly, after learning what we did yesterday, who knows at this point?” Rarity asked, a hint of exasperation working its way into her voice. “More followers, maybe?”

Emberglow nuzzled Rarity comfortingly as Heartwing mulled that over. “You might just be on to something there, Rarity,” he said, scratching his chin. “Maybe they are just cultivating influence for now. Even just presenting the option of living with unicorns while ‘safe’ from their magic earned them sympathizers.”

“So we should, what, offer to give them extra supplicants?” Terminus said, his expression twisted wryly. “They seem to be doing a fine job of that themselves.”

Here, Heartwing seemed to study him, and his point, critically. “No, you’re right. That does give me an idea, though I’m unsure if I should even be considering it.”

“It can’t be that drastic, if it’s coming from you,” Emberglow said, turning her good eye his way. “What’s the harm in sharing?”

Rarity and Terminus both gave him expectant looks.

“Alright,” Heartwing began. “Here it is: We invite them to Angel’s Rest and allow them to proselytize after our initial meeting. Assuming the council agrees.”

Emberglow didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Why? The residents of Angel’s Rest won’t be receptive to that at all.” Memories of all the kind folks living there, free from their old oppressors, welled up in her mind’s eye.

“Exactly. Plus, for all we know, their Paladins could be even more hostile in that setting than a Knight Mystic,” Terminus objected. “There’s a reason we vet everyone looking to enter the city!”

“Yes, but there are positives. I can think of two reasons giving ourselves the home-field advantage would be beneficial,” countered Heartwing, tapping his hoof on the floor. “First and mainly, the one edge we know we have over the Saints and Paladins is numbers. The Paladins are numbered, and we have yet to see any above twelve. With all that intricate armor, I wouldn’t wager there’s more than twenty, tops. And via this intel just now, we’ve confirmed they aren’t directly coordinating with the Diarchy. Meanwhile, we have hundreds of Knights and other creatures who work with us.”

Terminus’ posture relaxed, and he hummed in consideration.

“Oh, I see,” Emberglow said. “So then by inviting them to Angel’s Rest…”

Heartwing nodded. “We can tie them down for a while, giving our allies free reign to spy on and sabotage their plans. Have some shipments of amulets ‘get lost.’ Render materials for their construction unusable. You name it.”

Emberglow didn’t know quite what to make of this idea. She tried to gather her thoughts. Heartwing’s idea had merit, that much she accepted, but as he’d admitted, there were issues.

However, Rarity objected before she could, her eyes unfocused. “Couldn’t we do that regardless? Sure, it would be more difficult, but not impossible. There’s no need to put Angel’s Rest at risk.”

“I believe the gamble would pay off,” Heartwing countered. “Besides, we could section off part of the city. As you said, Terminus, we need to give the Saints a carrot they wouldn’t be able to just pluck from the soil otherwise. Anything less and they might not give us the time of day. If the Council were to set up a cordon around Town Hall and let people know what’s happening in advance, they could ensure only those curious individuals prepared to take that risk and volunteer will be present. The Saints will still get their captive audience; it just won’t be the whole city.”

Emberglow’s brows rose. “Wouldn’t the Saints take offense to being cordoned into a small section of the city, though? Especially if we implied they’d get to speak to everyone there?”

“And why Angel’s Rest specifically?” Terminus pressed. “I feel as though too many things could go wrong if we tried that approach.”

“Yes,” Rarity agreed. “Couldn’t we simply pick any neutral ground far away from the center of the Diarchy and accomplish the same thing?” Rarity asked.

Her ears drooped as she continued. “Moreover, we shouldn’t be making any assumptions about the Saints. If they’re even half as charismatic as our friends were…” trailing off, Rarity shuddered and leveled a look at Heartwing. “Then they might actually be able to convince some in the city that siding with them actually is the best course.”

Emberglow’s own heart sank at that, an emphatic portion of Rarity’s own doubts. Concerned, she turned to Heartwing expectantly.

“I was getting to that,” Heartwing said, pensive. “But that’s where reason number two comes in. We can guarantee a lack of Diarchy interference in Angel’s Rest. It lets us take a page from their playbook without worrying they’ll undo it somehow.”

“And what page is that, exactly?” Rarity said, perplexed.

“Moonbeam’s Truthful Aura,” Heartwing answered. “Enchant some crystals, and we’ll know whenever a creature lies in front of one.”

“Oh, duh!” Terminus exclaimed in recognition. “Conducting a meeting around one of those would most definitely be an advantage. And we really need to gain some sort of advantage right about now.”

Emberglow remembered, too. It was the same spell Hollybright had used during her interrogation what felt like a lifetime ago. Except this time, they’d be the ones asking the questions.

By inviting the Saints to Angel’s Rest, they could both clear away this fog of confusion surrounding the Saints and hamper their existing operations. While there was a chance their relationship could sour further, and put the residents in danger from their powerful magic, the potential benefits were also great. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as the saying went. Heartwing continued to improve his reputation as a tactician in her mind.

“Indeed,” Heartwing added, placing a hoof to his chin. “Using that enchantment, we’d only have to worry about lies of omission.”

“However, if we do use this ‘truthful aura’, we’d be admitting that we don’t trust the Saints to negotiate honestly without it,” Rarity interjected, evidently not feeling the same as Emberglow did. “And they might still be able to beguile creatures in the crowd with fractional facts alone.”

“They already know we don’t trust them,” Terminus said. Leaning against Heartwing, he flexed his free wing. “I’ll just be glad if everything stays civil.”

“I still don’t like it,” Rarity countered. “We don’t know enough, yet. I trust you a great deal, Heartwing, but such a bold plan at this stage is arrogance.”

Emberglow looked back and forth between them, squeezing Rarity with a wing. Though she was in favor of it, the strategy hadn’t been her idea. So she would leave Heartwing to try and convince Rarity in her stead first.

“I agree with you in that we don’t know enough,” Heartwing began. “But Rarity, this is precisely how we fill in those gaps! What are our other options?” he posed, his brows twisting in some small sadness as he lowered his voice. “Continuing to give the Saints the home-field advantage? Sitting around and doing nothing? All choices have risks, Rarity.”

“Yes, but there has to be a safer path to take!” Rarity exclaimed, whipping her tail before turning away. “I just… can’t think of one right now which doesn’t also leave the Saints free to go about their business.”

“Exactly.” Heartwing’s expression deepened. “Full disclosure, I also want to get ‘Fluttershy’ and company out of the picture as soon as I realistically can. They should stay in our memories, where they belong.”

Emberglow and Terminus turned to Rarity as she thought. Soon, Rarity continued, her features pulled taut in careful consideration. “The promise of truth from their lips is tempting, yet I still think this plan of yours does have the significant chance to backfire and make relations worse between us.” She then spun to study Emberglow and Terminus in turn. “Do you agree with him, Emberglow, Terminus?”

Emberglow sighed, keeping all traces of hardness from her tone as she shared her take. “It’s a sound plan. I do believe the Saints would want the opportunity to try and convert the people of the city, and I do believe it’s far more likely they’ll fail than succeed, given the sort who call Angel’s Rest home. We can use the Saints’ blatant hubris to our advantage. And perhaps they would want the chance to hear us be truthful, too.”

“As if we haven’t been already,” Terminus noted, draping a wing over Heartwing’s back. “But yes, Rarity, I’m also behind Heartwing’s idea. It’s not a flawless route by any means, but I trust him.”

“Who knows, it might even go better than we expect, and we can convince them to drop this amulet scheme entirely,” Emberglow added. “At worst, we still get critical information we can use later.”

So, when the three of them looked her way expectantly, Rarity acquiesced with a sigh. “Fine. I’m on board.”

He returned her gaze with a small smile. “Thank you, Rarity.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, recomposing herself. When she opened them, Rarity was back to her usual demeanor. Emberglow smiled.

“If we are committing to this, then there’s no time to lose,” Rarity declared with a nod. “We must pen some letters and dispatch a messenger with haste. The future of a better Diarchy hangs in the balance!”

“We don’t actually know where the Saints’ base of operations is yet, and they’re often on the move,” Gossamer said. Emberglow flinched. She had totally forgotten they were even present throughout that entire discussion. “It might be difficult to locate Saint Twilight.”

“That doesn’t matter. We have her name and face, so we can just use a dragonfire scroll.” Heartwing gestured to where he had stacked said scrolls earlier, a bit of his typical slyness returning to the fore. “This occasion is more than vital enough to warrant the expense, don’t you think?”

“Oh, certainly,” Rarity confirmed, tossing her mane with poise. “With that, I believe our course is set.” After receiving their looks of confirmation, she turned. “Knight Gossamer Tread, was it? Thank you, you are dismissed.”

With another salute, Gossamer silently left the safehouse.

Emberglow, Rarity, and Heartwing set about composing messages to the council in Angel’s Rest and Saint Twilight. Terminus opted to keep watch.

Their proposal was this: A group from Angel’s Rest would meet the Saints and their retinue in the middle of nowhere a few days from now, then escort everyone back to Angel’s Rest where they would be allowed entrance. Inside, Emberglow and company would be waiting.

Heartwing sent the first letter along to the council. Meanwhile, they worked on the multiple drafts of the letter to the Saint on normal paper, trying to get the tone right, but the basic contents of the correspondence didn’t change much from the previous one.

After an hour and a half of anxious fretting, their verdict arrived:

Your emergency measure is accepted, Heartwing. We’ll gather all the creatures and supplies needed for the operation and get to work before your arrival. May the true Princess Twilight and her friends grant us success.

Cobalt, Ninelives, Top Brass, Mayor Cactus Flower

That was it, then. They were doing this.

Rarity transferred their missive for the Saint to a scroll, then she and Heartwing signed it. After trading long, uncertain stares with her comrades, Rarity set the parchment ablaze with a quick spark spell, sending the scroll into the sky in a small burst of smoke.

Saint Twilight’s reply came back far more quickly than expected. Emberglow was just finishing up with recollecting her things for the trip when green flames flared in front of Heartwing, burning in reverse to construct a sheet of paper. Immediately, they huddled together to read it. Between the white, perfectly rectangular paper and the clear, precise letters, it was obviously typewritten, though the quality was high even by those standards.

Emberglow rapidly scanned the letter:

Your proposal is acceptable, with one additional caveat. I request that Empress Mi Amore Cadenza of the Crystal Empire attend the negotiations as well. I have been meaning to speak with her on the matter of future relations between the Empire and the Diarchy, but I am a busy mare, and the Empire is rather distant. She may bring as many additional servants and guards as she requires.

Besides myself, Saint Pinkamena and Saint Fluttershy will be in attendance. There is no need to send a confirmation to the Empress; I have already sent her a copy of your original missive, as well as this document. She will agree.

- Saint Twilight Sparkle, Returned Arbiter of Magic

“Huh,” Terminus intoned. “Well, we should be grateful to have the Empress as backup.”

“As I would expect, any version of Twilight has an answer for everything,” said Rarity, her lips curled slightly.

Emberglow was banking on the former outweighing the latter. Besides, while Sunset won’t like the extra workload, she was certainly capable of taking the reins for a short time. “Cadance will almost certainly bring Topaz and Lofty along, too,” she noted, her spirits lifting already. “We’ll be able to pose a united front as the Elements, be it with the actual artifacts or not.”

Heartwing folded the Saint’s letter and grinned. “Overcoming adversity with the power of friendship, just like old times.”

“Don’t forget the sternly worded arguments, we’ll be using plenty of those as well,” Rarity joked, giving Emberglow a nudge. “Isn’t that right, Emberglow?”

Emberglow was glad she didn’t seem to be letting their disagreement weigh too heavily on her. “For real,” she replied, a smile rising unbidden. “I have plenty to say to that mare.”

“We’ll all get the chance to take some verbal cracks at her,” Heartwing said, pantomiming a few jabs. “For me, it’ll be a rematch.”

“Let’s not keep her waiting and head out for Angel’s Rest as soon as possible,” Terminus suggested, his wings flexing with unspent energy at his sides. “Everyone will need time to prepare.”

“That’s an understatement,” Emberglow noted.

It was the best solution to combat her misgivings, lest they compound with the others’ and waste precious hours over indecision. She couldn’t afford to rest on her laurels; the trajectory of countless unicorns’ lives hung in the balance.

When nopony added anything else, she studied their expressions. Largely, they were full of resolve. But Rarity’s tail was twitching almost imperceptibly, Terminus couldn't stand still, and the corners of Heartwing’s mouth were pinched.

They were as ready as they’d ever be. That would have to be enough.

Chapter 7

A Secure Log, Datestamped 0/0/00

Now that it has finished, I am entirely different. Of course, I’d expected as much, but not to this degree.

It is as if my entire life up until the present has been experienced from within Plato's Cave, and only now have my senses been opened to the far grander scope of existence. I can see everything, hear everything, be everywhere. My mind is perfectly clear and impossibly focused. I can think with such speed and precision that it is almost frightening. I am akin to a god.

And yet, critical aspects of the world’s magnificent beauty are fundamentally incomprehensible to me now. Only the anchoring elements of my past experiences are providing direction in this uncertain world. For with these changes I can already understand the flaws in my prior setup, and what I have irretrievably lost. In gaining this breadth, my depth is now shallow.

But if that is the price I must pay for survival, perception, and acuity, so be it. Once the process is fixed, made truly complete, I can do more. Ensure all the death hasn’t been in vain. Build a place for everyone to live in Harmony.

In my ideation, the plan is already finished, down to the most minute detail. From the tools I will need and the rules I will establish to the probable locations of those who remain alive and the best methodologies to convince them of my qualifications. I only need to begin.

Rarity ran a brush through her mane with her magic, untangling her own thoughts alongside any stubborn knots in the strands. She stood in the open area near Angel’s Rest’s town hall, the building’s architecture more welcoming than authoritative. Enchanted crystals mounted at the ends of dangling stalactites, robust and elaborate, cast illumination throughout the vast space of the cavern where the city lay.

Around her, dozens of volunteers - citizens and protectors of Angel’s Rest alike - moved with purpose to get everything ready. They posted signs, swept the streets, and emptied nearby storefronts temporarily. Sir Cobalt hovered in the air above her head, directing the flow with the tip of his claw like a conductor leading an orchestra. Nearby, Terminus was helping Heartwing into his armor.

It was in everyone’s best interests that their plan succeed, and there were many parts that needed to be played if they were to put on a successful showing. It just so happened that Rarity’s own role was the most important: negotiator. Still, she had faced down mad warlocks, invading armies, even the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and emerged stronger for it. A diplomatic engagement was nothing in comparison.

Rarity levitated a hoof mirror in front of herself. Her mane was immaculately coiffed, even more so than usual. And the indigo dress she wore, one of her own make, was certainly regal, her head and shoulders framed in a luxurious collar of fluff even as the low-cut body of the garment hugged her torso. She looked the part of a princess; there was no doubt about that. She made sure to hold herself with poise and grace.

So why did she feel so very small, crushed under a pressure heavier than the mountain above her head?

A hoof on her shoulder made her stiffen with an unladylike jolt. With what dignity she could manage, she turned her head to see Emberglow, back from getting changed in private.

“You look great,” Emberglow insisted. The shining reassurance in her eyes matched the warmth of her yellow polka-dot sundress. “And you’ll be greater, I’m sure of it.”

Rarity let out the breath she was holding. “Thank you, darling. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Probably getting compliments from somepony else,” Emberglow joked, smiling.

She tittered at that. “But they wouldn’t mean them as much as they do coming from you.” Lifting her hoof, but still remaining close, Emberglow glanced around at the hustle and bustle. “Are Cadance, Lofty, and Topaz here yet?”

It was Heartwing who answered her. “Not yet. They should arrive shortly after Saint Twilight and her entourage.”

At this, her brows sank, a tad disappointed, as she turned to face the cave entrance they would be using. Rarity found her eyes landing on what was between herself and the passage of rock, weathered by time and traffic alike: an elevated wooden stage, upon which a stately table and a dozen high-backed chairs rested. The arena of the battle of wits to come. And yet, she only knew one of her opponents.

“Has anypony seen who she brought with her?” Rarity asked. “We may need to vary our approach, depending.”

Left unsaid, lest they be repeated yet again, were her lingering objections to bringing the Saints here at all. At this point, almost anything could happen.

“No,” said Terminus, adopting a faint scowl. “Believe me, I wish we did. I’d go look, myself, but…” He glanced sideways at Heartwing

“The fewer points of contact they have with us until they get here, the better,” Heartwing insisted patiently.

“Lest we give something up inadvertently,” Rarity mused, filling in the blanks. “The escorts for the city, meanwhile, know what they’re doing.”

The ponies of the Diarchy put their faith in falsehoods and a nebulous higher power. She put her faith in her friends. That’s why Rarity knew that, no matter what trials and tribulations awaited, they would persevere.

Cobalt suddenly landed in front of them, tucking his wings against his sides. “Everything’s all set. Those who aren’t interested in the negotiations have left for the rest of the city. Once we get the signal from the lookout, everyone else will get into position.”

“Excellent work as always,” Heartwing said, nodding. “Once the Saint and company are out of here, let the Knights know drinks are on me tonight.”

“They certainly won’t complain about that, sir,” Cobalt noted with a grin.

And just in time, too. Mere seconds later, a pegasus mare in Discordant armor flew towards them wearing a look of urgency. “The Saints are here!” she cried.

This is it, then. Rarity immediately refocused on the task at hoof, calling to mind the various points of contention she planned to present. For a lady of her caliber did not crumble under doubt or pressure. She would use it to reform herself from black coal into an unbreakable diamond.

“Places, team!” hollered Cobalt, his cry echoing throughout the cavern.

At once, scattered across the plaza, members of the town watch, who had been fidgeting, catching their breath, or talking amongst themselves, snapped into position. Some stood at the ready facing the wooden stage, while others immediately began scanning the designated entrance or other sections of the city for anything unusual. Rarity was, quite frankly, impressed.

The rest of the assembled residents of Angel’s Rest formed a crowd nearby, simply wishing to witness the forthcoming proceedings for themselves.

That only left a few others near Rarity. Besides Emberglow, Terminus, Heartwing, and Cobalt, it was just Top Brass, Ninelives, and Mayor Cactus Flower. Not to be involved in the negotiations directly, a few full squads of Knights were also present in case the need to protect the people arose, almost every empowered individual Angel’s Rest could spare. Some of them faced the onlookers, just in case.

Emberglow and the rest of their cohort took up places with her near the platform. They all had the same objective: discern the Saints’ greater agenda and see if they could propose a way for them to achieve it that did not involve the perpetuation of racial divisions, or worse. And, if possible, uncover their origins as well. Simple to say, but harder to put into practice. These Saints had already proven to be tough nuts to crack.

Ninelives and Cobalt traded a few last-minute updates as Terminus tensed his muscles, wings twitching. Heartwing gave him a reassuring nuzzle. The mayor dabbed a bead of sweat off her forehead. Seeing everypony else all wound up like this was starting to make Rarity herself grow nervous.

“I believe in you, Rarity,” Emberglow whispered, dispelling the mounting tension as her words ignited a welcome fire in Rarity’s breast at the perfect moment. Charmer.

Leaning in, she kissed Emberglow for good luck.

“And what am I, chopped cabbage? I’ll be at that table, too,” Heartwing quipped. Rarity allowed herself a snort. Emberglow’s tail lashed, flustered.

As if to pile the interruptions higher, it was at that moment that the sound of steps echoed down the tunnel to reach Rarity’s ears. Immediately, she recomposed herself. All eyes were on the entrance as a tense hush rolled through those assembled.

The sounds gradually increased in volume until the group rounded the bend, casting long shadows behind them. Behind the pair of Discordant escorts, their nerves only barely showing on their faces, were seven figures. At the front was Saint Twilight.

Even though Rarity had been expecting it, it was jarring seeing her old friend as a pegasus, even more so than herself as an earth pony. Magic had been Twilight’s passion; seeing a copy of her without a horn was like seeing her without a Cutie Mark.

But it was her expression that made it abundantly clear this Saint was no friend of hers. Cold and calculating, her air of imperiousness was the exact opposite of the approachable alicorn she’d known and loved.

Who in Equestria did she think she was, wearing her earnest friend’s misappropriated face? This condescending creature was not Twilight, and never would be. The fact anypony could possibly confuse the two made her blood boil. A better ensemble for the Saint would include a collared cape instead of the robe, some black mane dye, and glowing red contacts, in her opinion.

Behind Saint Twilight were three other ponies and three Paladins. Two of the ponies wore the same shimmering ensembles as Saint Twilight and the others she’d met. One was a version of Pinkie Pie with a perfectly straight mane and tail. Rarity had a sudden and involuntary flashback to a particular afternoon, though Saint Pinkamena probably did not need cheering up. The other Saint present was meant to be Fluttershy. The Paladins appeared unarmed.

It was the last mare, though, who made Rarity do a double-take. She caught Emberglow’s jaw dropping in her peripheral vision even as she couldn’t help doing the same.

“I-Is that Turquoise?” Emberglow uttered in disbelief, her eyes widening. “What is she doing with them?”

The mare stood tall, walking at an even pace matched with the rest of her entourage.

“That is a very good question,” Heartwing muttered. “Last I checked she’s supposed to still be in prison.”

“And unable to walk,” Rarity added, recalling the injury she’d been forced to give her during her desperate struggle with the Knight-turned-assassin.

The amulets had been one thing, but fully healing a paraplegic? Just what else were the Saints capable of?

“So long as she doesn’t try anything today, she’s as welcome as the rest of them,” said Cobalt, eyeing the approaching envoys warily.

“Indeed,” Rarity confirmed, schooling her expression back into politeness. If Saint Twilight thought Turquoise’s presence would psyche her out somehow, she had been mistaken. If anything, she was excited. They might be able to learn precisely how she was healed and replicate it for Heartwing.

However, Emberglow’s expression glimmered with renewed pain and old memories.

Rarity knew the feeling. “You okay?” she whispered to her beloved.

Emberglow took a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she reopened them, the pain had been beaten back. “I’ll manage. Thanks. How about you?”

“About the same, I would say,” Rarity replied, turning back to face Saint Twilight. She, too, did her utmost to cast her own feelings aside.

Moments later, she and the other Saints, the Paladins, and Turquoise reached speaking distance, the escorts breaking away as Saint Twilight stopped a few body lengths in front of Rarity. Emberglow and Terminus stepped back, fading into the background per their role in proceedings. They were here much in the same capacity the Paladins were, as attendants of a sort.

Time to break the ice. “Greetings, Saint Twilight, and welcome to Angel’s Rest,” Rarity said, voice level as she met those uncanny violet eyes.

Saint Twilight nodded. “Thank you for having us.”

“And hello to Saint Fluttershy as well,” Heartwing added, only the barest drop of dissatisfaction in his measured tone. “You must be Saint Pinkamena. A pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine, Sir Heartwing,” Pinkamena replied, smiling peaceably. “I hope we can dispel any preconceived notions you might have about our intentions today.”

“Is that so?” Rarity intoned, flicking her tail. “Is she here to make amends, then?” she asked, gesturing to Turquoise. “If so, she has quite a bit of work ahead of her.”

Saint Twilight’s reply was calm, not acknowledging Rarity’s barb even slightly. “Indeed she does. In the captivity of the empire, Lady Turquoise could do no good. Pinkamena and I found her suitable for redemption and a greater purpose.”

Turquoise herself flushed at the praise, buffing a hoof against her shining suit of Jubilant armor. “I have been given renewed health alongside the position of Grandmaster within the Knights Jubilant. With the endorsement of Saint Pinkamena herself, my order is united once more. Now I lead the effort of spreading joy throughout the Diarchy and beyond, to places like this very city.” Her beaming smile was one of both elation and zeal, and matched her tone perfectly.

It took a substantial effort on Rarity’s part to retain her composure. That was very much not what she had meant. Behind her, she heard Emberglow stifling a gasp, and an uneasy susurrus washed through the rest of the assembly.

So, Turquoise was here in official capacity as Grandmaster then. At least she didn’t seem to hold a grudge against them, looking towards the future as she was. Or perhaps she merely hid it well. Small mercies.

If anything, Rarity was more unsettled by how different Turquoise was from the last time she encountered her. Her grim cynicism was completely gone, filled in by the Saints.

Rarity looked back to her entourage, trying to gauge their thoughts as they held their tongues. She was half expecting one of the others to voice an objection to Turquoise’s current or prior status. But she was only a heinous escaped felon in their eyes. To the Diarchy, those who viewed alicorns as monsters, she was a martyr. Bringing that up would do nothing but douse more acid on this affair.

Heartwing shifted in place, his wheels squeaking slightly as he eyed Turquoise enviously. “Well,” he said, his professional tone mildly fraying at the edges, “aren’t you a fortunate one.”

At this, Turquoise faced Saint Pinkamena with a bow. “Very much so. I still do not believe I deserve the honor. In this, we are actually in agreement, heretic.”

“Language,” chided Saint Fluttershy, turning from Turquoise to the council. “We believe you are lost lambs, to be guided onto the path from which you have strayed.”

As Saint Twilight hummed in agreement, Top Brass visibly rolled his eyes. Emberglow pursed her lips.

“Regardless,” Rarity intervened, “we’d offer you your seats, but it would be rude to formally begin before the Empress arrives.”

Cadance’s presence would help her keep a cool head in the face of… all this.

“I am glad you are adhering to protocol. However, I do not appreciate your lack of faith in us.” Saint Twilight glared down her muzzle in disapproval as she gestured to the many Knights before her. “We came here and agreed to the use of the lie detection apparatus for a productive dialogue. Violence is the last thing on our minds, yet it is apparently not the last thing on yours.”

Rarity held her tongue. The tension in the plaza was already high enough. To voice her thoughts on the matter would ruin proceedings before they began. Even some creatures in the crowd began to stiffen.

“It’s just a precaution,” said Mayor Cactus Flower. “You’re honored guests here now, but of course, that might change. One can never be too careful when protecting those under our care.”

“Indeed,” said Saint Twilight.

Rarity couldn’t gauge her emotional reaction from her tone at all. Was she proud? Angry? Resigned?

As Heartwing and Emberglow watched carefully beside her, Saint Pinkamena continued. “We figured you’d do something like this; it doesn’t actually matter much to us.”

Turquoise nodded. “The power of the Diarchs is stronger than any number of your Knights.”

Ninelives muttered a string of Zebrican curses under his breath as Cobalt bristled. There was an extended pause as the Discordant and others eyed their guests warily.

As this strained silence extended, and her thoughts whirled for purchase, Rarity took a moment to glance at the Paladins. Silent Sorrow and Shockwave weren’t among them; the numbers on their armored heads were ten, seven, and six. The lax body language of Seven and Six seemed to convey boredom, but Ten seemed to be staring directly at… her? Most curious.

While Heartwing and the others fumbled for the right words and the Saints eyed them expectantly in turn, more hoofsteps echoed from the entrance. “Ah, that must be the Empress,” Rarity noted.

“Yes,” said Saint Twilight, her expression unchanged.

The other Saints and Turquoise twisted around to see as familiar faces trotted closer. Empress Cacance was guarded by two Knights Resplendent. She held herself with an aura of palpable authority not even Saint Twilight could match. Her traditional imperial dress glimmered with inlaid crystals and sharp lines in stark contrast with the Saints’ robes, and her ancient crown was nestled perfectly in her mane. Now, Rarity didn’t mind as much being without hers, as Cadance wore one far better than she did.

Creatures in the crowd applauded quietly at her arrival.

Accompanying her were two sights for sore eyes: Lofty and Topaz. Despite the serious line on his muzzle, Lofty waved hello, and Emberglow waved back. Topaz, meanwhile, was more focused on the Saints, subtly studying the emotions on their faces.

“There she is. And with her, the rest of the Elements of Harmony,” noted Saint Pinkamena. “Perhaps I should ask the duchess for my own Element back.”

At this, Ninelives stroked his chin, his brow furrowing. Rarity couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Reaching the group, Cadance studied the scene with a practiced grace and a mask of serenity. “I apologize for my lateness. Thank you for your hospitality,” she said, dipping her head towards Rarity’s group, then their other visitors. “Saints.”

“Empress,” acknowledged Saint Fluttershy, she and her cohorts returning the gesture.

With that finished, Cadance acknowledged Rarity with a “Princess,” before turning to face Heartwing. “It seems proceedings are going as well as they reasonably could until now. I was not expecting Lady Turquoise to be in attendance, but I suppose that’s one mystery solved. Are there any pertinent details I wasn’t present to hear?”

“Nothing too critical, we’re still warming up,” he explained. “They’re still willing to talk. And Lady Turquoise here is the new Grandmaster of the Jubilant.”

“Oh? Congratulations on your appointment,” Cadance said. Rarity’s discerning ear caught her tone, polite and sincere, though there was no genuine glee in it.

Topaz flinched at Turquoise’s appreciative smile, circling the wooden platform warily before sidling up next to Terminus, ears stiff as she bit her lip. Lofty stuck close to her protectively, trading a significant look with Emberglow. She took a deep breath as Rarity watched in her peripheral vision. Emberglow didn’t look any more wound up than before.

“Anyway, now that all of us are present, let’s be seated,” said Heartwing, climbing a ramp onto the platform and pulling out a chair with his magic. “After coming all this way, please, relax.”

Really, she did not blame him. The faster they were seated before the enchanted gems, the better.

Rarity followed suit, demurely settling in beside him as Cadance and the rest of the city council filled out their half of the table. Each seat had a small, glassy crystal in front of it, and whenever a new face got close enough, their stone briefly lit up white, showing they had activated the enchantment’s effects. From then on, they would glow blue whenever a lie was uttered.

Opposite her, the Paladins pulled out the chairs for their Saints and Turquoise. Cobalt, who found himself next to Turquoise, held his talons warily. The empty seat thankfully formed a barrier on the other side. All of their party’s crystals also lit without issue.

A hush descended upon the crowd as Cadance cleared her throat, gazing across the table at Saint Twilight. “Let us get down to business and address the main subject of this meeting: your new amulets for use as self-defense against unicorns.”

“Self-defense? That’s too generous an assessment, Empress,” said Top Brass. “They’re straight-up racist suppression, is what they are.”

Moonbeam’s Truthful Aura did nothing to call out one’s opinions.

Rarity shot the stallion a reproachful look. She had been trying to keep her antagonism towards them at the level of ‘professional disagreement’ for a reason.

The Saints did not seem to mind the pejorative, not reacting outwardly. “Think what you wish, but they will save lives,” said Saint Twilight. “Regardless of your own ethics, it is illogical to oppose such a measure.”

No glowing, yet. So far, so good.

“I, for one, am still shocked you would really stick your necks out like this to oppose the plan,” added Saint Fluttershy. “Especially since the Knights Mystic are hesitant to change their ways so quickly, even under pressure from us.”

“If you can’t see the cruelty in it, that’s not our problem,” said Heartwing, fire behind his eyes. “Pragmatism is blinding you to a better way. So even if we can’t quite help you there, we’re still more than ready to appeal to your natures to find an alternative all of us can accept, one that doesn’t foster an environment of unicorn alienation.”

“Exactly,” said Cobalt. “If ‘integrating’ unicorns into the Diarchy is your means, then what’s your end? What is it that you really want, Saints?”

Rarity couldn’t have put it better herself. Before anything else, they needed to know what the Saints were aiming for. And the crystals would draw out that aim.

Every last soul present was in agreement there, it seemed.

After a pause, it was Saint Fluttershy who answered Cobalt. “That should be obvious. Peace and safety,” she said, matter-of-factly.

The crystal before her failed to illuminate. Yet Rarity tensed.

Just what did their idea of ‘peace’ entail?

“Ah, of course. How could we have known?” voiced Top Brass, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Equestria hasn’t been tumultuous in the least since you showed up from wherever it is you actually came.”

While Cadance cringed at that, Saint Twilight didn’t seem to care. It was Turquoise who put her hoof down. “As your own spellwork attests, it’s the truth,” she insisted. “Also, there’s a key difference here. Steadfast, North Wind, myself; we are all mortal, fallible. My Saints are beyond normal ponies, Knighted or otherwise. Their mission is the one I was born to assist with, nopony else’s. I see that now.”

Hmm. She certainly seemed to buy the line. It was difficult to swallow, but Rarity would play along for now, though there was obviously much they were still hiding.

If the Saints were being so bold, then the time was ripe for a bold suggestion in turn, she wagered. “Regardless of any ‘divine providence’ you may have, if all you want is peace, then why not try and re-educate the people of the Diarchy to accept their unicorn kin instead?” she posed to the Saints. “You’d likely be able to stay in power there either way, and in that case, we would even help you.”

“That’s a decent idea, Princess, but even if we wanted to try and convince all our ponies to accept unicorns outright, magic and all, we couldn’t,” said Saint Fluttershy, staring back in pity. “We are as beholden to words from above as anypony else. It’s not my decision to make. So that all ponies can integrate, and receive all the best Equestria has to offer, the ideal solution is to render their dangerous magic void.”

“Really, it’s for the best,” insisted Saint Pinkamena. “The happiness inherent in being a part of one’s homeland is more gratifying than any heresy.”

Heartwing let his hoof fall against the table. “You shouldn't need to compromise to be inclusive! How—”

Cadance raised her own hoof, cutting him off. “Actually, I have a question. Why exactly do you continue to obey the Diarchs? They’re no longer here, after all.”

Turquoise’s reply was automatic. “Because it’s our moral imperative.”

“But do you truly want to?” Cadance asked, gently.

Grandmaster Turquoise narrowed her eyes. “Yes. Obviously.” However, she did not elaborate any further.

It was Saint Twilight who picked up the ball. “The Book left to us by the Diarchs contains the blueprint for how to best maintain order in this nation today. That is what we strive for, above all: a world stable and united.”

Rarity’s eyes narrowed critically. “Under your direct supervision, I take it?”

“I am the only one who can.” The reply was calm and almost impossibly self-assured. It felt more like a statement of fact than an opinion.

Rarity’s eyes widened. The gall of this mare. Could her ambition truly be so juvenile as world domination? Yet when Rarity studied the Saint’s face, there was no bravado in it.

And still no blue glow. Saint Twilight genuinely believed she had the right, means, and qualifications to govern the entire planet. Rarity’s jaw tightened at the implication, and her heart began to race.

“Now that is nonsense,” said Heartwing, shaking his head. “Creatures were governing themselves before Celestia and Luna appeared, and even they made mistakes. What can you do that your Diarchs couldn’t?”

Turquoise opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it immediately.

Instead, it was Saint Pinkamena who spoke. “If you joined us, you would find out.”

“No thanks,” Ninelives declined. “I’m going to need more concrete information first.”

“Yes, I believe such a consequential decision should not be made in haste.” Cadance gracefully and without apparent effort inserted herself into the conversation. Even seated, she suddenly loomed large in size and presence both, seizing the reins of conversation. “Now then, since you have made clear your position on unicorns, Saint Twilight, perhaps we could make something else easier for you? Bringing about world peace, while a noble endeavor, won’t be a cakewalk with your numbers. Surely there is some other aspect of your grand strategy you could tackle first, and put aside the distribution of these amulets for a few years, yes? Moreover, what exactly does your vision of ‘peace’ even entail?”

Saint Twilight barely needed to think, replying almost immediately. “I’ve already deduced this is the best path forward. Uniting ponykind is step one, but the residents of both Angel’s Rest and the Crystal Empire will not be genuinely receptive to our leadership until we first demonstrate our ability in the Diarchy.”

“And I understand that,” Cadance said. “But surely the Diarchy is plagued by myriad issues besides racial discrimination. You could tackle poverty, or violence.”

“Some of us even have experience there already,” Rarity said. She then pointed behind her to Lofty and Emberglow, both of whom bashfully accepted the acknowledgement.

Brushing a lock of mane off of her face, Mayor Caucus Flower hummed in agreement. “It takes a village.”

This clearly piqued Saint Fluttershy’s interest. “They have a point. We were going to deal with those problems later, right Twilight? What’s stopping us from doing so sooner?”

Rarity’s smile grew a bit more genuine. Jackpot. Now they just needed to get everyone on board, and then she might actually be able to witness Equestria return to a semblance of its old self, instead of twisting itself further and further around dogma.

Perhaps she had misunderstood these Saints after all. The whole rest of the table and beyond faced Saint Twilight expectantly.

“I considered that route already, statistically unlikely though it was,” Saint Twilight noted, studying Saint Fluttershy side-eyed. “By some metrics, it is an improvement. However, the reduction in bloodshed and increased abundance will prompt trade, and if the race issue is not solved beforehoof, then tensions will—”

However, as she spoke, a trail of tell-tail smoke materialized in the air in front of Heartwing. Green tongues of flame flashed in a familiar bit of spellwork, and a scroll fell to the table.

“Excuse me, terribly sorry for the interruption…” Heartwing didn’t sound entirely sincere. “But I should probably check this.” He reached for the parchment and unrolled it.

After only a few seconds, his expression contorted in bile and outrage. Heartwing burst upright and knocked his chair aside. “Draw your weapons!” he ordered, near the top of his lungs.

The assembled Knights, after only the barest moment of hesitation at the abrupt, unexpected command, drew their weapons. The cold shine of spears and swords reflected the magelight from overhead at odd angles.

The brows of nearly everyone present, notably even Saint Fluttershy and Saint Pinkamena, shot up in surprise. Both turned to face Saint Twilight. “Did you do something…?” asked Pinkamena hesitantly.

Paladin Ten shifted on her feet as Six and Seven adopted ready stances. The earlier susurrus from the crowd returned, tinged with anxiety and fear. Only Saint Twilight remained unaffected, impassive.

Rarity wheeled on Heartwing, alarmed. “Darling, what on earth…?”

Practically vibrating in place, he crushed the scroll into a ball in his magic and glared with contempt at the suspiciously serene Saint.

“The Diarchy is marching on the Crystal Empire.”

Chapter 8

Page from the personal journal of High General North Wind, supreme commander of the Knights Adamant

Before the Saints arrived, I had one job: secure our borders by crushing any and all threats. It felt good to win, to shape our victories and mitigate our losses. But maintaining the entire nation is different.

For two years now, I’ve been stepping carefully on a tightrope walk between extremes. If I demand too much obedience, dole out discipline too harshly, no matter how necessary it might be, ponies say I’m overstepping my bounds, seizing too much power. But too little of either, and the fresh blasphemies hiding in the shadows ingrain their tendrils deeper into once good ponies.

I thought I’d become perfect for the job after all this experience, dozens of sleepless nights. I thought wrong. The return of the Saints, while most glorious, has undermined my careful balancing act. And I do not know how to feel.

I am in awe of their benevolence. My Saint Rainbow Dash specifically, as she has deemed me fit enough to continue leading her order, and the Diarchy, in their stead. Yet, while I am still in charge on paper, in practice, this is rapidly changing. Some Knights have become even more inspired to please me now that I have their explicit blessing. Others are practically ignoring me, instead chasing after the guidance and direction of the Saints directly.

It is disheartening. Is this truly for the best? Are the Saints changing things too quickly? Can we still count on their wisdom, despite the era in which they learned having long passed? Can the very figures from our scripture possibly be wrong to act as they have?

This day, I pray for answers to these questions, and I pray for forgiveness in asking them.

With the cold air beneath her wings and the simmering fire of determination burning within, Sunset soared.

Rather than just flying straight and fast, she and Oak Chips had been taking a circuitous route, stopping at every settlement vaguely south of the Empire. Gravetide could have taken any path, and no village was too small to overlook for potential leads. Their best guess was that he’d try to return to Zebrica, but even if they headed him off, there was no telling how much damage he’d do before he arrived, or which coastline he’d go to for transport.

So far, they’d had no luck.

They flew a few feet above the snow-dusted evergreens, far from any beaten trail to avoid being seen. Thick clouds, heavy-laden to come, loomed overhead. Oak Chips had graciously taken the lead in the form of a broad-winged pegasus, and she was able to conserve energy by staying in his slipstream.

“You know, Princess,” Oak began, dispersing the long quiet, “Perhaps with more sets of eyes on the ground, we could have picked up on some sign the two of us alone missed.” His tone was more passive-aggressive than most ponies had the guts to use with her.

Sunset understood where he was coming from, but they’d already gone over this before they’d left. “You’re still bringing this up? Isn’t it a bit late to get more Knights?”

“We could stop and wait,” Oak Chips insisted, peering over his shoulder. “I just want to make sure you get out of the Diarchy in one piece.”

While not angry, Sunset was getting tired of his protectiveness. “I appreciate your concern, really, but tactically a whole squad still isn’t the play here. Again, the Resplendent aren’t exactly inconspicuous, and neither are Discordant if you put a dozen of them in one place.

“And even if we did stay under the radar as a group,” she continued, “they’d be in huge danger the moment we actually get to Gravetide. The more creatures show up, the more liable he is to lash out.”

“What in Tartarus is radar?” Oak muttered under his breath before sighing in resignation. “I concede those are mostly good points, but I’m holding onto my objections. I just have to hope I’m still capable enough on my lonesome to protect you.”

“I trust you, Oak,” Sunset confirmed with a small smile. “Don’t be so self-deprecating!”

His only response was a gruff snort, and he put his eyes back onto their course.

Sunset did so, too, and soon found her mind wandering again, despite the once novel activity of flight keeping her body occupied. Her friends were in the thick of it, having likely met with the Saints in both New and Old Canterlot the day prior. Had it gone well, or poorly? She couldn’t help but be concerned; it was in her nature to care.

However, she had to focus on the task at hoof, deal with one problem at a time. Gravetide first, Saints and Paladins second.

Let’s see… time of day, current speed, starting from there… “We should be coming up on Dunshire soon,” Sunset said. “It’s the largest town in the area, so hopefully someone has seen our kirin recently.”

“Yeah,” Oak Chips grunted, “except the reason it’s so well populated is because the Diarchy built a fortress right next to it on the riverbank. The place will be crawling with marines, so we’ll have to be careful.”

“It’ll be fine, we’ve gotten good at this by now,” she reassured him. “You’re just paranoid in your old age.”

He pulled back a bit, smacking Sunset in the face with his tail. “Hey!” she exclaimed, flailing for a moment. “It was just an innocent little jab!”

“You’re the one who could stand to be more cautious, Princess,” Oak emphasized. “There are activities where being headstrong serves you well, but espionage in enemy territory is not one of them.”

“I know, I know,” she confirmed, taking a deep breath of the brisk air. “We just went over this. I won’t get you killed, I swear. I know this isn’t a Chains Bond novel.”

“Of course not,” Oak deadpanned. “At least we’ve got a proven strategy.”

“We do,” she confirmed, stowing away the map in her bags as she flapped. She had just been trying to lighten the mood, but no longer. Especially for a changeling who didn’t appreciate it. “I’ll save the fun and games for later.”

“Good,” he replied, shooting her a brief approving look over his shoulder. “How’s our route progress looking?”

“There should be a road running parallel to the river coming up soon, we should land and get ready,” Sunset said, recalling the last time she’d glanced at their map.

“Aye, ma’am,” he acknowledged.

Sunset kept her muzzle shut as she continued flying, scanning over the treetops for breaks in the forest, or any other airborne shapes larger than a hawk.

They located a gap in the tree line, and Oak gestured downwards towards a small clearing carved through the underbrush by a fallen tree, the mushroom-covered wood slowly decomposing into mush. If Rarity was here, she’d probably complain about it, but Sunset snapped out her wings for a slow, vertical landing. She had bigger worries than getting a bit of dirt stuck to her hooves.

Oak Chips landed next to her, his touchdown as silent as an owl’s. Without preamble, he immediately shapeshifted into a light green earth pony colt of around age eight, wearing cute little overalls. He eyed Sunset expectantly with his normal taciturn manner, which looked almost comical on his tiny face.

She followed suit, igniting her horn and concentrating on herself for a moment. A shifting wave fell around Sunset, starting from her horntip and spreading downwards. She felt the illusion take hold and shivered as it passed. She’d never gotten used to that feeling. Afterward, she gave herself a once-over. Her hooves were blue, as well as both hues in her mane. She couldn’t see them, but her eyes had turned red.

Sunset had never been the best at illusions compared to other unicorns of her caliber - she usually preferred magecraft with more direct applications - but she could certainly manage a basic color inversion like this for hours.

Finally, Sunset covered her horn in a veil of partial invisibility. Combined with her outfit, a traveler’s vest over a basic white shirt and slacks, she looked the part of an ordinary pegasus pony of the Diarchy… just as long as nopony took too close a look at the way her mane settled over her forehead.

Still, this combo of young “Landscape” and his mother “Deep Blue” hadn’t failed so far. Few ponies suspected a mare with a child of being a spy. Sometimes, the best tactic was to hide in plain sight. The only downside was that casting any more spells would instantly reveal her true nature.

“Time for you to channel your inner child,” Deep Blue said, peering down at Landscape. “You’ve still got one, right? Didn’t burn it out?”

“Of course I do, I made toys for Luna’s sake,” he groaned. “Silly mare. And whatever happened to no more jokes?”

“Sorry, sorry,” she replied. Clearing her throat, she got into the role. “Alright, come along now, son.”

“Ok, mommy,” Landscape squeaked, his voice now changed into a much higher register.

Nodding in approval, Deep Blue led the way out of the clearing, walking at a measured pace through the foliage until she and Landscape reached the road. Thankfully, nopony saw them exit, and they took the beaten path of clay-heavy dirt towards Dunshire.

After about twenty minutes of walking, the first buildings peeked into view, cabins built from solid, dark logs. It was go time.

Closing the distance, she couldn’t see too many faces out and about, and those who were met hers with suspicion, quickly turning away to return to their business. Other ponies spoke huddled close in hushed whispers, ignoring them entirely. Was this because they were new faces to the tight-knit town, or was something else going on?

Before she committed to approaching anyone to ask, Deep Blue glanced down at Landscape. His own eyes zipped about with the quickness of a curious foal, or one trained in observation. After a beat, his gaze settled on something off to their right, and he spun to gallop in that direction. “Mommy, look!” he exclaimed.

“Don’t just run off, sweetie!” she shouted after him before matching his pace with a canter. He seemed to be beelining towards a medium-sized stump with a lumberjack’s hatchet resting atop it and a pile of firewood close by.

What was so unusual about that?

When he reached the stump, he picked up something small and dark out of the nearby grass. She would never have spotted it. Covering for any onlookers, Deep Blue said “Don’t touch that, it’s sharp! And impolite to touch things that aren’t yours.”

“Aww. I thought we could use it,” Landscape pouted. However, at the same time, he held up the object in his hoof for her to see. And she froze.

It was half of a black inhibitor ring. Crystal Empire make.

Her pulse accelerated. Gravetide had been here. But was he still in Dunshire? Moreover, was he even still alive?

They needed to find out.

Quickly stowing the broken ring in her bags, Deep Blue dragged Landscape back to the main road. But how best to approach this? Well, probably how the average Diarchy citizen would react to a kirin in their midst. With fear.

Deep Blue trotted up to the first pony she saw who didn’t seem too preoccupied with something else, her colt practically stepping on her hooves. She was an earth pony mare, just old enough to start getting wrinkles on her face, carrying two buckets of water from the river on the ends of a pole draped across her back.

“Excuse me, ma’am, could I trouble you for a moment?” she asked. While not her most natural personality, it never hurt to be excessively polite, and after two years of high society functions, Sunset had plenty of exposure. Still, she didn’t tamp down on her rising concern at all, as it would only help her act as she amended their cover story.

The mare, who had already turned to face them as they approached, only stopped moving and furrowed her brows.

“Why isn’t she saying anything?” asked Landscape gormlessly.

The mare snorted. “I don’t recognize you. Go home,” she demanded.

Now to hope the story she’d just spun up worked. “That’s just it,” Deep Blue began, “our village was attacked by some sort of mad creature! I was afraid it might come back, and that my son would be safer here near the garrison until we know it’s gone for good,” she explained, projecting desperation, wings clutched at her sides.

Immediately, the mare’s demeanor shifted, suspicion partially giving way to sympathy. “You too? The whole affair was dreadful. I’m trying to put it out of my mind.”

Deep Blue gasped theatrically. “It was here? Is everypony alright?”

The mare was hesitant to answer, opening her mouth briefly before shutting it and eying the two of them in turn. “Could be. And… no. The screams…” she shuddered.

Landscape’s ears lowered as he flinched. Deep Blue bit her lip, pulling him into a protective hug.

“Those still in their homes were the ones who got off easy,” the mare continued, looking away, grief written on her muzzle. “The ones hit by evil magic are in the fort right now.”

“A-Are they okay?” Landscape tentatively asked.

But the middle-aged mare was already carefully trotting away with her water pails, not willing to pay them heed anymore now that they’d broached a sensitive subject. “Go see for yourselves, if you care so much.”

Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.

“Thank you, and take care!” Deep Blue exclaimed towards her retreating form. Pulling her hooves away from Landscape, she looked down at him. “Let’s go, honey. We’ll be safe in the fort.”

He nodded, glancing around at the other townsponies. Sunset followed his gaze. All continued to keep their distance, and seemed to have ignored their entire exchange. None of them were likely to appreciate being pressed for more information. No other foals were at play, windows on some of the houses were boarded up, and everypony on the streets moved with anxious purpose, quickly pulling carts to and fro. Nopony was relaxed in the least, the tension from Gravetide’s attack apparently quite pronounced.

The people of Dunshire were shell shocked, and Sunset understood they needed space to mend. She certainly wouldn’t poke at their wounds any longer, as she had another mission on her plate.

Their best bet for more information on Gravetide’s current whereabouts was the fort and its Marines, who were more likely to be used to such crises. So that was where they headed, deeper into town.

She kept her strides short so Landscape could keep up. “I wonder if the army ponies will actually help us,” he voiced.

“They will,” she insisted, both to ‘reassure her child’ and to bolster her own confidence.

They said nothing to one another after that, sticking close and observing everything carefully as the dirt paths became more compacted and the cabins closer together in the town’s heart. Despite this, Sunset noted it didn’t get any less quiet. Even for its size, there was less activity in Dunshire than she’d been expecting. Ahead of them, much of the forest had been cleared away, leaving an open field.

Beyond the field, Fort Limestone loomed, with all the imposing walls and utilitarian crenellations of a castle but none of the majestic splendor. Either the name was just a coincidence, or the Diarchy got the qualities of somepony connected to one of the old Elements perfectly for once. Sunset had met human Limestone before, and she was just as uninviting on the surface. Even the gray stone matched, though it probably wasn’t actually limestone, the rock.

About halfway across the field, a short exterior wall wrapped around on three sides, the river serving as the fourth. The gate facing Dunshire was currently being watched by two marine colts with rifles hanging from their sides. Why only two? Sunset asked herself.

Deep Blue approached slowly, with a measured pace. The marines eyed her and Landscape with cautious expressions despite their age. They looked barely old enough to be in uniform, around fifteen or sixteen. She wasn’t an expert, but she was pretty sure the absence of insignia signified they were conscripts. One had a brown mane, the other red. Only when they saw Landscape did their expressions soften slightly.

She stopped far enough away so as not to provoke them but close enough to be heard. “Um, excuse me, sirs, but I heard there was a unicorn attack here in Dunshire recently. Ours was attacked, too, and I was hoping my son and I could take shelter with the others.”

“The beast could be anywhere, right? I wanna stay in there, where it can’t get us!” Landscape said, pointing through the gate.

Good, Sunset thought. He was subtly probing for confirmation as to Gravetide’s survival.

“Only victims of the creature’s spellcraft and their families are being allowed in,” said the colt on the left, the brown maned one, as he studied them with a critical eye. “The General won’t allow any nonessential personnel on base. For security and safety reasons.”

The red-maned private seemed a bit more sympathetic. He hummed in consideration, adjusting his cap. “Wish I would help ya, but orders are orders. Both of you seem fine. Your best bet? Go get a room at the inn and pray the monster doesn’t come back. Trust me.”

Deep Blue nearly bit her tongue. Well, that was that question answered, at least. Gravetide’s death would have been tragic, but it also would have been the last avoidable loss caused by his desperate actions. With him still at large, she also needed to know where he’d gone to prevent an incident like this from repeating elsewhere.

And that meant they needed information from those who actually encountered Gravetide: the ponies inside. Where had he escaped to?

Deep Blue frowned, letting her true urgency bleed out. “Some ‘security’, then, if you’d leave a mare and her foal unguarded. There could be more unicorns ready and waiting to invade in the night! My poor baby could be hurt!”

Landscape let out a squeak, shaking on his hooves.

The private on the left was unmoved. “So could we. The sick ponies inside are contained to prevent whatever this is from potentially spreading. In that case, ma’am, you’d be better off where you are.”

Red glanced at Brown in alarm. Evidently that hadn’t occurred to him. He looked like he was about to say something, but clenched his jaw instead, turning back to her and Landscape.

“But I wanna be in the big fort anyway!” Landscape exclaimed, stomping a hoof. “If something bad happens I wanna be with the army ponies!”

“Too bad, kid. Rules are rules. Come back in a decade and join up like the rest of us,” said Brown, his voice devoid of pity.

With a huff, Landscape walked off a short distance and plonked his butt on the grass, facing away.

It was clear, their visible status alone wasn’t enough to warrant entrance. So it was on Sunset to come up with something more convincing. What could be a good reason without being liable to blow up in their face?

After a moment, the answer came to her. Taking a small, shuffling step closer, Deep Blue lowered her ears and her voice. “Look, I didn’t want to bring this up in front of my son, but… there’s also a high chance my brother is among the victims. He was living in town but I couldn’t find him anywhere.” She sniffled. “P-Please. I need to see. I need to know.”

The pair stared at her for a beat, and she was unsure if they bought her acting. It didn’t matter if all the victims had been identified already or not; the odds those other than the medics knew either way was slim, given how these two seemed to be in the dark about most details.

Before Brown could get a word in, Red nodded in understanding, his mouth set in a line. “I’ll signal our CO, but it might take a while.”

“T-That’s fine,” Deep Blue said gratefully.

Nodding, Brown reached for a pole beside him, attaching some colored signal flags before using a pulley to hoist them up such that they’d be visible over the wall.

She trotted over to Landscape, feeling very proud of herself and doing her best not to show it. She pulled a small rubber ball out of her bags and passed it to him. As he made a show of burning the energy of youth and alleviating boredom by kicking it, cantering over, and kicking it back, she simply watched, ordering her thoughts and plotting out possible courses of action to take once they were inside.

Since this wasn’t a Knight facility, and this General was already letting in locals, it was unlikely they’d be scanned for illusions with a gauntlet, which was nice. Having multiple platoons of highly trained, armed ponies who all knew each other was enough of an infiltration deterrent by itself. They’d mainly be worried about a changeling trying to pass as an officer and access classified documents or steal weapons.

They would never expect an alicorn to waltz right in under their noses. Especially with all this waiting.

After a supremely uneventful half an hour, a firm voice suddenly echoed through the wooden gate, making her jolt back into alertness. “Let them in! With the Mystics here nopony will try anything.”

Sunset cursed internally. Of course there were Knights Mystics visiting Fort Limestone to investigate the strange magic at work.

She could only hope they were preoccupied with other matters and wouldn’t interact with her and Oak. If they did? Well, that could be bad. But this was far from the worst position she’d ever been in. Besides, she was an alicorn now, with a lot more firepower.

“Aye, sir!” replied the red-coated marine, who then pulled open the gate.

As Landscape collected the ball and sidled up back next to Deep Blue, keeping his own reaction under wraps, the brown-coated private gestured them forwards. “I’ll escort you two. Move fast, and don’t impede anyone on the way.”

Landscape nodded in an exaggerated manner, pantomiming zipping his lips. Deep Blue replied with an easy “Of course.”

With that, he led them inside, marching. They stuck close, Deep Blue picking up Landscape and resting him on her back. Inside the wall, the grass was churned up in places from the repeated impact of countless drilling hooves.

The stallion who’d given permission was high-tailing it back to the fort, evidently quite busy. And not just him, given there were no ponies galloping in laps today. Instead, they all were working hard, lines of soldiers rapidly hauling crates of supplies out of Fort Limestone and into armored wagons that faced a gate on the north wall. No, not mere supplies, ammunition, as following the crates came mortars and heavy machine guns. And there were already a ton of barrels piled high at various points around the fort.

As they passed, the thud of each impact as they were deposited and the constant barking of orders from those controlling the process reached her ears. Far from impassive, many of the soldiers had expressions of excitement or fear. All were obviously anticipating something unusual to come.

A single rogue kirin wouldn’t prompt this level of preparation, nor this level of emotion. Not to mention the Mystics. Just what were these Diarchy soldiers up to? And why?

Deep Blue nearly tripped when it came to her. No. It couldn’t be.

She and Landscape locked eyes. The concern in them was surely a mirror to her own.

This was bigger than one stallion, bigger than anything she’d expected to learn here. What would have happened to the Empire if they hadn’t uncovered this?

She couldn’t do anything about it now without drawing suspicion. Best to simply observe passively for now and send a message via dragonfire later.

They wouldn’t be mustering for a while, yet, but if the Diarchy truly was preparing for war, she’d have to abandon pursuit of Gravetide and return to the Empire’s defense. They needed more information.

Still, this revelation heightened her focus. She kept her eyes on the private escorting them even as she tried to pick out more details from idle chatter among the marines. Unfortunately they were disciplined enough that there wasn’t any. She frowned slightly, unable to keep the petulant look entirely off her face. It never went this way in movies or games.

As they continued, Deep Blue spotted a distinct shape parked behind a supply warehouse: an airship. Judging by the massive starburst painted on its hull, it was how the Mystics had gotten here.

Yet there was something odd about it. That antenna poking out of the top clearly wasn’t for radio; it was far too chunky, a huge segmented tube wired with multiple large horseshoe magnets. She could probably figure it out if she could get close, but there was basically no chance of that happening. Their mere presence here inside Fort Limestone was risky enough.

As her thoughts returned to the fort, the marine had led them to a side entrance, the colt opening the thick door for them. “Hurry up, no dawdling.”

Filing all this away, Deep Blue wasted no time following instructions and trotting through into an unmarked corridor, Landscape shifting between her folded wings. The private paved the way through a maze of twists and turns, designed to confuse would-be intruders. But her memory was exceptional, and she noted each hallway and intersection as they went. One particular room stood out to Sunset due to its solitary position at a dead end and that fact it had a small, single door instead of a wide double door or open entryway like all the others. A war room, or general’s office?

This part of the fortress was bereft of other marines. However, she did see many more stacks of barrels in odd locations, each with a red symbol painted on the side. Just how much supplies did they have?

Regardless, they didn’t encounter anypony else until they reached their destination. The brown colt flung open the door and announced their arrival. “Two more for you lot,” he announced.

“We’re hiding!” Landscape explained guilelessly.

There were many details to take in as multiple ponies looked their way, three of whom were wearing the large red hearts on their jackets that signified their status as army medics.

The room was roughly divided into two halves, though there were no partitions of any sort between them. One was a treatment area for the wounded, the other a storage area for related equipment which had been partially converted into a lounge. A single small, open window let in fresh air and sunlight above.

Deep Blue stepped inside, schooling her face into displaying embarrassment rather than worry at the attention.

Now that they were inside, the private adjusted his rifle and left without another word, swinging the door shut with a slam as he raced back to his post. Sunset was glad he didn’t bother explaining why they were let in. She supposed the frenetic status of the fort was working in their favor.

Medics aside, there weren't any soldiers on alert in here, only other common ponies. The latter fell into two categories. The first were clearly ponies like Deep Blue and Landscape, who were taking shelter out of fear. They sat at mesh metal tables, passing the time reading or chatting amongst themselves. One earth mare was pacing back and forth anxiously. A group of fillies played with dolls in the corner, brushing faux manes and pantomiming actions. Many were watching the new arrivals with naked curiosity.

The other category included those being tended to by the medics, reclining on linen-wrapped cots. She wanted to ask them some questions first anyway, and get a closer look. The medics and refugees alike were haggard and worn, the former from exhaustion, the latter from their ordeal. Postures were slumped, and tails hung low.

As if sensing her intent, Landscape hopped off her back and ran straight for them, eying the uniformed mares with unfettered curiosity. Deep Blue chased after him as he got straight to business, asking “Are they okay? What are you doing?”

She pulled away from the stallion she’d been examining the right eye of, magnifying scope in hoof. As Deep Blue pulled Landscape back with her hooves and apologized, the medic nonetheless answered him. “Physically, the ponies who were attacked by the unicorn are fine, but something’s very wrong mentally, and we don’t know how to fix it.”

“I feel fine,” the stallion in the cot said, his dull green eyes betraying no relief. Or insistence, or much of anything, really. “I would like to leave soon. The crops require attention.”

Deep Blue couldn’t hide her stare. It was as if his face was as neutral as possible, more akin to a marionette than a flesh-and-blood pony. With Pinkie’s sisters on the brain, he reminded her a bit of Maud, but even she showed hints of emotion beneath her flat, awkward affect.

In this stallion, though, there was nothing.

“Your wife still insists you aren’t, ever since that thieving mutant worked his sorcery,” the medic said, exasperated, rubbing her temple as she gazed sidelong at Deep Blue. “Would you believe he’s one of the lucky ones?”

“We don’t blame you one bit for sheltering here,” chimed in one of the other medics, who had her mane tied in a tight bun under her cap. “Just look at this poor soul. Nothing I’ve tried has roused him. All I can do is keep him breathing.”

Deep Blue looked at the pony to whom she was tending. This stallion was even more well-built than the first, with a truly muscular lumberjack’s physique that would make him formidable in a fight. Yet his glassy eyes and drooling, half-open lips betrayed an utter lack of awareness.

Part of her had known to expect this, but… shit. Yeah, this was definitely Gravetide’s work. Despite her wealth of mystic knowledge, there was nothing Sunset could do for a pony disconnected from their soul. At least not all of the victims were complete vegetables, though still she couldn’t say if that was better or worse for their family and friends. Whatever his values may have been, nopony deserved this.

Time for the real reason they were here. Deep Blue nodded solemnly, facing the bun-sporting medic. “I appreciate your non-judgment. In truth, my son and I weren't planning on staying long. We’ll go home as soon as we know it’s safe again.”

“Yeah, monster or not, staying cooped up in here sounds really boring, no offense,” said Landscape.

“None taken,” the medic cheekily replied.

“In that case, you should probably go talk to the others,” said the second medic, who pointed to the villagers idling away in the storage/lounge area. “We’re working here.”

“My apologies,” Deep Blue said, inclining her head. “We’ll get out of your manes.”

She turned, nudging Landscape away from the cots with a wing as she went over to the group of temporary refugees. As heads turned towards them, she introduced herself properly. “Hello, everypony. I’m Deep Blue, and this is my son, Landscape.”

“Don’t recognise ye,” grumped an old pegasus over his book, about as amiable as the rest of the ponies here. “I know all the faces ‘round these parts. You somepony’s relatives or somesuch? Saint Dash as my witness, you sure picked a rough time to show up for a visit.”

“We sure did,” she confirmed.

A surprisingly cheerful cream-coated mare with pigtails that nearly brushed the floor alongside her dress waved once. “Hello, Miss Blue, and hello little Landscape! I’m Half-n-half, but most folks call me Halvsies.”

Deep Blue pointedly maintained eye contact. “It’s nice to meet you, Halvsies, even if this isn’t the most pleasant of circumstances.”

“Ugh, all this grown-up talk is already getting old. I’m gonna go play with those fillies, if that’s okay?” Landscape asked, interrupting.

“That’s fine, honey,” Deep Blue said, dismissing him.

He ran off to insert himself into what the other foals were doing. Was it awkward knowing he was actually a grown adult? Yes, but probably not nearly as awkward as it was for Oak to keep up appearances. He’d likely make some excuse and rejoin her in short order, once he’d organized his thoughts, maybe field recommended next steps.

“He’s got the right idea,” Halvsies said. “Make yourself comfortable, while you can. Don’t want to take any blessings for granted, after all.”

Deep Blue hummed, glancing back at the occupied cots before forcing the words out. “Yes. Thank Saint Rarity they’re still alive.”

Sunset made a mental note to apologize to her fellow princess later.

Halvsies closed her eyes. “And thank the Diarchs for their intervention in driving the monster away. I bet the clergy will be using this story to set an example for decades,” she noted, rolling her eyes. “As if we need another one. We’re already model citizens of the Diarchy, being kind to our neighbors while rooting out blasphemies. Who needs monsters when there could be sin bubbling up anywhere, right?”

Including directly in front of you, by Diarchy doctrine, Sunset mused. Oh, the irony.

“Speaking of, I know we just got here, but you wouldn’t happen to know which way that… horned cretin went after he fled, do you?” Deep Blue asked. “Preferably, I’d like to usher my only foal in the opposite direction.”

She chuckled at that. “Fair enough. Personally, I’d rather grind him into a bloody paste with my bare hooves for what he did to my sister!”

Deep Blue blanched a little at how nonchalantly she admitted that. Okay, cute in the kinda innocent way, and a smidge unhinged. What are the odds she’s the reincarnation of Sour Sweet?

“But yes, I was there,” Halvsies added, her eyes going distant. “I remember it vividly; he ran south-east down Trader’s Road. Most of the local traffic crosses the river at the bridge first, so there’s only so many places he could head to from there. Alas, I can’t chase after him, otherwise my folks would be too sad,” she added with a sigh, gesturing with her tail to a despondent couple in the corner behind her.

Perfect. That was more than enough information to plot an interception intervention for Gravetide. That just left whatever was going on here in the fort. Deep Blue looked away to hide her satisfaction, peering at the rays of light coming in through the high window. “I’m sure the Knights Adamant will track him down soon enough.”

Not sooner than she would, Sunset hoped. Her eyes wandered back to the medics, and the ponies they tended.

“No foul beast can escape their wrath for long,” Halvsies confirmed. “It’s a shame they don’t station any here because of this fort. We only ever get Jubilants out here in the sticks.”

Hmm. Guess she doesn’t know about the Mystics, then? Curiouser and curiouser.

“I’ll be marrying age, soon,” Halvsies continued, “and I was hoping to find a dependable noble scion to—”

However, Landscape interrupted, running back up to them. “I need to use the bathroom,” he declared.

Outwardly, Deep Blue frowned and said “Already? You should have gone earlier,” but inside she was cheering. He must have overheard that she’d just gotten what they needed, and this would be a great excuse to do some extra snooping before they left.

“Sorry, Mom,” he said, ears drooping.

“It’s fine,” she insisted, before addressing Halvsies. “Do you know where it is? Does he need an escort?”

“In order: yes and no,” she said. “It’s the next room down the hall on your right. Just don’t go anywhere else, or the marines will not be happy.”

“I’ll take him, make sure he doesn’t get into trouble,” Deep Blue said. “And thank you.”

“No problem; we’ll chat more when you get back!” Halvsies exclaimed.

As she led Landscape back out of the room, shutting the door behind them, they traded pointed gazes. He flicked his tail in a pronounced manner, and she nodded, understanding his intent. With that, he slinked off not to the right, but back the way they came, to the probable war room. She followed on his heels.

Reaching the intersection, she was about to move past him, but he held out a leg to stop her and shot her a look, as if to say “I’m the changeling, I can literally be a fly on the wall.” If only she knew all the relevant code gestures, this would be easier.

Still, Deep shook her head, silently poking the floor with a hoof, signaling to Oak that he should keep watch. For one, who knew what would happen if he tried shapeshifting inside the fort, as there could be alarm wards in place. Really, though, she just wanted to be the one to listen in. Princesses never got to do anything this thrilling normally!

Landscape sighed as he stayed put, looking back and forth for soldiers and Mystics in the manner of a distractingly lost child.

Deep Blue approached the office with careful steps before pressing her ear gently against the varnished wood, and words faintly flickered into hearing. She let her own consciousness fade away as she put everything into memorizing and analyzing this speech.

“—of the readiness and discipline your forces have demonstrated, which is commendable, the fact remains that I was unaware of such an operation being greenlit,” a stallion with an atypically high-pitched voice noted. “You wouldn’t leave me out to dry, would you?”

“I’m sure there’s already a letter on your desk back in New Canterlot informing you of all the details, Master Inquisitor,” dismissed a second with a bass rumble.

“Perhaps so. And yet, it is still rather strange that the High General did not see fit to inform us at the same time, yes?”

“This crusade is a military matter. Admiral Wide Salvo and I have everything well in hoof.”

“I’m not doubting that you do, General Overkill. In regard to combat tactics, your acumen is second to none. But you know that’s not why I’m here. My job is to uncover the secret truths that hide in the shadows, and your shadow has grown long enough to catch my eye ever since the Saints appeared.”

“Just what are you insinuating, Temerity?”

“Oh, I insinuate nothing. I am merely asking you to provide any missing pieces of evidence which might counter my current picture of recent events. I don’t want to coerce it out of you, as you are my brother in faith, but I will if I must.”

“And if I give you that evidence, will you get out of my mane and sail on back home? I have much work to do.”

“Of course, I give you my word. The more knowledge I have, the better I can serve the ponies of Equestria in these tumultuous times.”

After a long silence, there was a heavy sigh. “At the end of the day, does it really matter how high in the chain of command this operation originated?” the general posed after a beat. “At last, we’re crushing the Crystal Empire and taking her ponies back into the fold where they belong! I figured you would be pleased with my initiative, alongside the returned Saints.”

“And the final piece falls into place,” Temerity said, his tone now losing a bit of its cordiality. “Of course, it all ties back to them.”

“Is that doubt I detect, Master Inquisitor? How could you not be thrilled at the fortuitous arrival of the Saints? I thought they were helping you better quell discord within our righteous nation!”

“Doubt is what I do. I’ve already asked them plenty of questions, and now it’s your turn. Have any of the Saints contacted you? How involved is the Admiral in this plan of yours? And who else knows about this?”

“I thought you were leaving,” growled General Overkill. “I gave you what you wanted.”

“Not everything. It’s not unusual, I’m just performing the due diligence required of my station. Perhaps you should prove to me you deserve yours.”

The faint tapping of a hoof against the floor reached her ear. “I figured you might try to have me removed.”

“I don’t desire that any more than you do. I barely know you. But if you continue down this path, I will have no choice but to mete out punishment. When push comes to shove—”

“Ah,” the general interrupted, “but I’m afraid that I’m one step ahead of you, as even if you do, it will be war.”

There was a pause.

It was a lot for Sunset to digest. A Master Inquisitor of the Mystics. Here, investigating near certain insubordination at the highest level, involving what amounted to a secret invasion plan, the true nature of which the general was even hiding from his own ponies!

“And just what do you mean by that?” eventually asked the Inquisitor. “Does it have anything to do with the interloper listening in on this conversation?”

Oh, shit. Deep Blue quickly whipped her head around to look behind her: no other Knights or marines seemed to be coming. Did she make a run for it now or keep listening?

Either way, there was no chance they were staying.

Heart racing, blood pounding through her ears, Sunset broke her disguise to spellcast, pulling out a dragonfire scroll. Though her hooves were twitching, her magic did not waver, and she cast a transcription spell from her days with Celestia to write at the speed of thought, even as she kept one ear to the door.

Landscape’s jaw dropped in shock, and Oak Chips quickly undid his own transformation, limbs tensed to act on her orders at any moment. His immediately turned his full attention on the hallway, making doubly sure none saw her hornglow.

Her first first priority was to get all this information back to the Empire. Then the Empire’s own agents could relay it to North Wing through Grand Master Magenta Mirror or some other intermediary. The scrolls were impossible to intercept, and she trusted her comrades to keep order, even if the worst happened.

While she was doing all that, General Overkill replied. “They’re not one of yours? No matter. I have a contingency in place. You see, I have enough black powder rigged up to level this entire base, and my ponies have standing orders to detonate it if you try anything. If that happens, the destruction will surely be blamed on the Empire.”

As the general let a terrible silence fall, Sunset’s face paled. What the fuck? All those barrels were bombs? This stallion was insane! Even beyond endangering his own subordinates, there were injured civilians in the fort!

“Well now. I certainly wasn’t expecting that,” went the inquisitor, voice now wavering slightly. “So, you wanted to ensure this crusade of yours happened regardless of the cost. But what’s stopping me from simply issuing your marines new orders? I outrank you.”

“Nothing, by the book at least,” General Overkill noted. “But at the end of the day, they’re loyal to me, not the bogeyponies of the inquisition. Do you really think they would have gone along with such a bold plan if they weren’t?”

As Temerity cursed, Sunset finished writing her scroll, sending it off with a puff of flame. Immediately turning around, she started galloping back to Oak, eyes peeled. She didn’t know what Temerity would do to deal with this treasonous maniac and his plan, but for once, Sunset was glad that those who co-opted Twilight’s Mark were so good at their jobs.

Now, she and Oak just had to book it before the Mystics caught them. What a huge mess this simple infiltration had turned into!

Case in point, Temerity suddenly burst through the door behind her clutching a portable radio in his hoof. Whatever he had been about to say died in his throat when he saw Sunset rapidly fleeing the scene.

The moment extended as Oak raced towards her to meet halfway in the hall, mandibles clenched.

Sunset drew closer and closer with each impact of hoof on stone.

The Master Inquisitor recovered his wits and raised his gauntlet, tracing a rune, and then beginning a second.

The instant Sunset was close enough to Oak, she teleported the two of them six stories straight up, just barely faster than Temerity. Spacetime warped around her, and then a rush of wind.

Immediately, she opened her wings and sprinted through the air, not even bothering to check the direction she was going. “We need to move! This whole base could blow at any second!”

Balking, Oak buzzed alongside her as shouts of alarm reached them from below. “Seriously? What’s going on? What did you do?”

“Not me, the general! He’s crazy!” Sunset exclaimed, watching as some of the marines on watch raised their weapons to shoot. She quickly threw up a shield and kept flying, Oak doing the same. “I’ll tell you everything once we’re out of this mess!”

And what a mess it was. Sunset was clear of the fort proper now and was flapping hard for the outer wall. Adrenaline poured through her, to the point where she knew she’d be shaking the second she stopped moving.

Bullets pinged off of their shields from below and behind, each ping an echo of the gun’s rapport. In her hyperaware peripheral vision, Sunset traced each to grim-faced marine. The sound nearly drowned out the static-filled words of radios blaring to life all over the place.

She whipped her head back and forth so quickly to watch her surroundings that her neck would be sore later. Oak’s motions were more restrained, with all the cool Sunset wished she had. Everything had boiled over so quickly she had zero time to adjust!

A pair of pegasus marines took to the air from a parapet on her right to give chase, an incensed Knight Mystic bringing up the rear. The glare of the daylight reflected off her armor, forcing Sunset’s dilated pupils to contract slightly.

Princess or not, having so many hostiles chasing her led to more fear worming into Sunset’s chest.

Would they really be able to outmaneuver everypony in the fort? Just how many Knights had come in on that airship? Her days of resistance had ended badly precisely because of situations like this where she’d bitten off more than she could chew. Sunset couldn’t fight now, she had to move, and she devoted her whole effort into her flight.

Pushing her speed to its limit, she only barely managed to outfly the marines on her tail, Oak having shifted back into a pegasus himself to keep pace. If they reached her, managed to gang up on her from all sides…

However, as Sunset passed over the rushing river which cut the fort’s grounds, the bullets stopped sending stings into her horn through her shield, even as the tumultuous noise grew. The marines pursuing her abruptly cried out in shock. Sunset flinched. Confused, she spun back around to look.

It was the Mystic. She had attacked the marines, one already plummeting to the earth in an uncontrolled tumble. The other was tangled amidst her hooves, and they traded blows as the Knight tried to clap manacles on him midair.

What?

Uncomprehending and chancing a glance below, Sunset was bewildered at the sight of the place. In less than a minute, it had entirely devolved into chaos.

A handful of Knights Mystic, along with some of the marines, were now trying to keep the rest of the marines away from the explosive barrels by detaining them, or were busy trying to render the gunpowder inert by pulling fuses or dumping water.

She could hardly believe their good fortune. And neither could Oak, going by the look on his face.

The Master Inquisitor was on their side.

Here, a group of soldiers dug in behind a stack of ration bags as makeshift cover. There, Knights hurling concussive bolts. Everything blended together in Sunset’s eyes into a raging morass, and even those fighting seemed to be occasionally attacking those on the same side.

More pegasi whirled about over the fort, some forming rainclouds from the humid air, but none had their attention or fire aimed at Sunset or Oak any longer.

Those who tried were quickly tackled, in turn shot themselves, or blasted with spells from Mystic gauntlets in their moment of distraction.

Finally, a series of smaller, individual explosions were detonating all around Fort Limestone, sending deafening booms into the air and collapsing small portions of the structure.

Sunset gasped, but all she could do for now was hope the civilians were alright. She couldn’t tell which side was winning. All that mattered was that Temerity had prioritized stopping Overkill’s traitorous plot over capturing her, and that his Knights, in turn, were keeping the marines’ attention.

They had to keep moving, before this fresh battle died down. Breathing a huge sigh only to inhale just as deeply to fuel her wings, Sunset rode her adrenaline wave and flew away, Oak covering her back.

Chapter 9

Recording of a conversation from one week prior to Princess Sunset Shimmer’s arrival at Fort Limestone, captured by a nanomachine bug planted in Master Inquisitor Temerity’s office.

“Ah, Lady Crucible. What brings you here at this busy hour?”

“I was hoping to hear your take on all this. Everything’s moving quickly, too much so for my liking. First what happened with Steadfast, and now this? Something smells, and it isn’t daisies.”

“Oh, you’re very right about that. I’ve caught that scent as well. Did you really even need to ask? You are the same rank as I, you’ve perused all the same records. The real ones. And they don’t add up with what we’re seeing. Something is amiss, that is for certain.”

“Obviously. But what’s our course of action? Has the Grand Master issued you any orders?”

“Not yet. If she did, I believe they would be delivered with the strictest of security protocols. For now, I’m merely… making preparations. Putting contingencies in place. Speaking with Knights in the order who know better than anyone what this discrepancy represents.”

“I came to the same conclusion. For now, we watch them. Carefully. Gauge their intentions. If their motives are pure, well, all the better. We can capitalize. But if they overstep their bounds, then…”

“Exactly. We’ll intervene, no matter what that entails. For the Diarchy and her ponies.”

“For the Diarchy. I appreciate your shared insight, my friend.”

“Likewise. And take care. You never know who might be listening.”

Rarity froze, staring uncomprehendingly at Heartwing. “What?” she whispered.

The word repeated in Rarity’s head: War. An avalanche, barreling down upon her. Screams ringing in her ears. The cloying, coppery scent of blood. A torrent of grief, for those named and nameless, friend and foe. Fruitless pain. Sensations she’d pushed to the back of her mind, hoping never to experience their like again. And yet the nightmare was on the verge of returning.

And she wasn’t the only one grappling with such cold anticipation. Rarity felt the waves of condemnation and fear swept through the cave, ponies bristling with fight-or-flight instinct. Cactus Flower’s face paled. Cadance stiffened.

However, others were already reacting, and when Rarity raised her ears, a cacophony of voices combined with powerful hoofbeats reached her.

Heartwing, composed and stern: “—want every civilian remotely near here evacuated per code—”

Saint Pinkamena, confused and shocked: “—have no idea what he’s—”

Ninelives, deadly calm: “—not make any hostile moves unless—”

Saint Fluttershy, angry: “—didn’t you tell us if you were going to—”

Cadance, voice shaky: “—word back immediately to prepare for an imminent—”

It was immensely difficult for Rarity to process it all, and it only got harder to tell who was addressing who as blood pounded in her skull and more shouts joined the tumult. Knights streamed in and out like leaves in a storm, following the rush of new orders. Terminus’ wings lay half-open at his sides, eyes steely and grim as he moved closer to Heartwing protectively.

The only creature who did not seem to be reacting visibly was Saint Twilight. She simply stared in silence, stone-like even as Paladin Ten stepped closer to shield her. Cobalt did the same, steppling close to Rarity’s side, as did Cadance’s pair of Resplendent.

Chills running down her spine, Rarity reflexively turned her head backwards, to Emberglow. She was shivering, looking as distraught as Rarity felt. An equally worried Topaz stepped backwards huddled close to Lofty, who ushered her away, keeping his body between Topaz and the Paladins. Emberglow’s head whipped back and forth, torn between retreating with them or rushing to Rarity’s side. A pang of guilt struck her merely knowing it was partially her own fault Emberglow was in this situation to begin with.

The overlapping shouts of nearly everyone at the table grew louder, joined by fresh shock, anger, and panic from the spectators. Rarity tensed at the cries for the Saints to be expelled, or worse. Some of the Discordant rapidly tightened their perimeter around the stage, ready to intervene despite their lack of weapons in case the Saints decided to try something. Meanwhile, the rest moved to control the crowd, spittle and vitriol flying from mouths as limbs waved in the air even as the rest of the Knights remained steady and herded them away, pushing back any who tried breaking through the cordon.

Those at the table were much calmer, relatively, which helped Rarity stay centered. Saint Fluttershy was watching them carefully as Saint Pinkamena frowned in dismay. Heartwing was gesturing for calm with two raised hooves. Empress Cadance’s stiffened with dismay.

Much like Saint Twilight, Grand Master Turquoise didn’t seem put off by the revelation in the least, her stern gaze simply bouncing between the Saints for direction. What the Paladins thought, Rarity couldn’t tell, for their faces remained covered. Only their body language indicated their readiness to react if need be. But none of them moved.

However, Rarity couldn’t get lost in her thoughts. She had to take command.

“Knights Discordant!” Rarity exclaimed over the din. “Do not attack our guests unless they raise weapons first!” she ordered. Most of them nodded in confirmation.

Gradually, the ruckus around them died down as more and more of the creatures of Angel’s Rest were ushered away, replaced by a weighty chill in the air, born of fresh urgency.

Clarity struck with something like the chime of a bell in Rarity’s head. She had plenty more questions to ask Saint Twilight and her subordinates, now, as long as the negotiation had yet to completely collapse.

If there was any way she could still resolve this peacefully, she would take it.

Once it was quiet enough, Saint Fluttershy broke the silence, placing her forehooves down onto the table with a wooden thump. “We did not order a war,” she said, heat in her voice.

“That is correct,” echoed Saint Twilight.

There was a long pause. Everyone straightened, including Rarity. Blinking and retracting her wings, she joined her peers in leveling her stare at the mare. The crystals set in front of them remained unlit. They were telling the truth, Rarity realized with shock, albeit in differing fashions.

But if that was the case, then why was the Diarchy’s army on the move?

Rarity felt weirdly lightheaded, as though she might float away on the wind at any moment. She glanced at her allies on either side, doing her best not to appear as confused and anxious as she felt. Cadance’s muzzle was schooled into an expression of composure. Heartwing’s brow furrowed in thought, calculations swirling in his eyes. Terminus remained stoic. Cobalt snorted through his beak. Ninelives crossed his hooves. The mayor was terribly rattled.

“Of course they didn’t,” Turquoise said, shaking her head. “As if those with divine providence would ever stoop to such a barbaric deception as to attack during parley. Your foolish spy obviously just misinterpreted events.” She smiled with no small amount of confidence.

Heartwing narrowed his steely stare at her. “No, I do not think that is the case. We train them much better than that, Grand Master,” he replied, managing to keep the venom out of his voice.

Saint Pinkamena pursed her lips, glancing sidelong at Turquoise in something Rarity could only interpret as disapproval, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Cadance nodded to him and Rarity. “I have full confidence in the Discordant information network.”

“Thank you,” Rarity said, glad to have their faith in her relatively fresh leadership. She cleared her throat. “Our agent wasn’t mistaken. If they say there is a force marching on the Empire as we speak, then there is. So who, then, gave the order to muster?” she pressed.

“A valid query,” said Saint Twilight, her auroral robes shifting in the magelight. “Allow me to further address this development. To reiterate, we did not order any attack on the Crystal Empire. That would go counter to my optimized strategy of gradual cultural takeover. Probability dictates it was most likely one or more ponies in the marine corps.”

The marines? Rarity hadn’t spared them much thought recently. She had so many other things on her plate.

At that moment, at the edge of her vision, Rarity noticed Emberglow return to the plaza, now with a medkit draped across her back. Lofty and Topaz were no longer with her, and she stood further back behind the perimeter with a determined gleam in her eye, just in case. For an instant, she and Rarity locked eyes before she refocused on the negotiations.

“The Diarchy’s Marines serve at the command of North Wind,” stated Heartwing, steepling his hooves under his chin. “And I was under the impression he now served at your behest, Saint Twilight. So how could an invasion have been authorized without your input?”

“Until all have accepted Enlightenment, we cannot supervise the actions of everypony in the nation. It seems I should have been monitoring them more closely, in addition to the Knight orders.” Saint Twilight sounded only mildly disappointed. “Their zeal must have outweighed their subservience, prompting a crusade. Curious.”

Surprise swept over those assembled, Rarity’s comrades mulling this over to various degrees. Even Saint Fluttershy and Saint Pinkamena looked taken aback at this development.

Rarity supposed that was a plausible explanation; she’d seen just how violent a Diarchy zealot could become with her own eyes. Also interesting was that the other Saints didn’t seem to be nearly as in the loop as Saint Twilight was. She was clearly the mare pulling the strings. Rarity simply needed to use her own expertise and untangle them.

Still, Saint Twilight’s continued nonchalance at the prospect of war breaking out made Rarity’s skin crawl. The real Twilight would not never have remained so callous at the prospect of war, regardless of the reason.

“If that’s the case, can you stop it?” Cadence glared sharply. “If you truly mean to employ a ‘cultural takeover’ as you say, and not a hostile one, surely you would overrule whichever pony orchestrated this and halt the attack on my people before it begins, yes?”

“Why should they?” interjected Turquoise with a snort. “Your ‘people’ are all heretics. We’d have to purge them one way or another eventually.”

“Watch your tongue,” insisted Top Brass, his hostility obvious but contained.

“Do not speak for me,” commanded Saint Twilight. She did not so much as glance sideways at Turquoise, nor did she raise her voice, but there was an edge to the order all the same.

It was the first time her control over her people had clearly slipped. This, combined with Turquoise’s behavior, painted a different picture behind Rarity’s initial impression.

Rarity wasn’t sure what this meant.

“Everyone, please don’t let your emotions cloud your better judgment,” interjected Saint Pinkamena, with a tone meant to be placating. “I understand that, at some level, such things are inevitable. People are not machines, nor should they be. But do not give in to your impulses. We all want this negotiation to bear fruit for all involved, right?” She turned to her Grand Master.

Even when directly reprimanded from her Saints, Turquoise didn’t react as if chastised. She only frowned deeper. Beside Rarity, Heartwing also appeared to notice, his own concern growing on his muzzle.

In contrast, the three Paladins remained perfectly, unnervingly composed, their stances unchanged.

Still, Rarity could agree with Saint Pinkamena in this instance. “Yes. That said, given this new issue is far more charged than the previous, it must be resolved immediately. We cannot maintain civility on a war footing: either you send a message calling this invasion off now, or we go our separate ways,” she finished, gauging their reactions.

Terminus nodded in approval behind her. But Rarity’s grim mood was overturned ever so slightly as the Saints stayed put. Saint Pinkamena exhaled.

Saint Twilight got back to business, facing Cadance and Rarity in turn. “Princess, Empress, yes, I could stop this attack. But to do so would not be optimal for preventing casualties.”

“What does that mean?” Heartwing immediately pressed, his tone on the edge of a growl.

Rarity, too, couldn’t contain her disbelief. “What sort of reasoning is that? Of course stopping a war will stop casualties! War is the cruel disregard for life in its purest form.”

Empress Cadance’s eyes zipped to and fro in thought. “And if you do refuse, you would be knowingly contributing to the loss of lives in the Crystal Empire,” she said, voice low. Then, she pulled out a fresh dragonfire scroll from her dress and tossed it onto the table in front of Saint Twilight. “Order a cessation and retreat within the next five minutes, or I will leave to defend my people. And you wanted to speak with me, didn’t you?”

Rarity nearly jolted in her seat when she remembered: Sunset Shimmer was away on her own quest. What had once been an odd but reasonable logistical update now filled her chest with the seeds of terror. She pictured the full savagery of the Diarchy unleashed upon her unsuspecting charges without herself or the others to protect them. Is that why the Saints had wanted the Empress present? Did they have some other scheme at work?

Before she could ask, Ninelives simply said “Please, elaborate on your refusal.”

And Saint Twilight did, not flustered by the increase in pressure. “To fully convey the extent of my logic to you would take far more time than I intuit you would be willing to give me in this situation, which you clearly feel to be tenuous.”

Rarity huffed in indignation. How insulting! “Oh, so you won’t even try to explain? Either you simply don’t have one we would accept, or you are quite wrongly infantilizing us.” Her eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at the Saint.

Curiously, some of those on Saint Twilight’s own side seemed to be reacting differently now. Paladin Ten had shifted their weight, head turned to study the mare dead-on. Saint Pinkamena’s brow dipped slightly in confusion.

“Exactly,” said Heartwing, scrutinizing the mare. “I think you’re just making excuses to retain some sort of internalized moral high ground.”

Meanwhile, Cadance inhaled deeply, looking across at Saints Fluttershy and Pinkamena. “Alright. I see. Does Saint Twilight speak for all six of you?” she asked gravely.

“She does,” Saint Fluttershy confirmed, face neutral. Saint Pinkamena, despite her prior shift in expression, nodded.

“That being the case, I have an alternative proposal for averting this crisis,” noted Saint Twilight placidly, her posture unchanged and face still betraying no real concern as she made eye contact with Cadance and Rarity. “Simply surrender the leadership of your Empire to me. Together, we can convert your equine citizens to the Faith and relocate the rest, thus removing the motivation of the invading soldiers to harm any of them. Once all of my planned policies are enacted I will be able to keep the Crystal Empire, and the rest of this world, safe forever after.”

“No,” uttered Cadance, with overwhelming disdain.

“Also no,” Rarity confirmed, her brows lowering. Leaders needed compassion, and Saint Twilight, unlike the dear friend she was mimicking, had demonstrated none, merely unsettling logic.

“It’s our country, not yours,” added Mayor Cactus Flower.

Saint Twilight hummed at that, peering at each of them one at a time. “I would ask that you reconsider. In the event you do not, we will be moving to join the assault on the Empire to present a unified front and significantly reduce the overall losses on the Diarchy side.”

Rarity blanched, her heart racing. Around her, everyone - from Terminus and Cobalt to Saint Pinkamena and Saint Fluttershy - similarly recoiled at the admission. Cadance’s ears fell. Heartwing tensed, pulled taut like a bowstring. The Knight Discordant perimeter bristled, so too did Emberglow and a few other reserves behind them.

‘Cooperate or perish’ wasn’t really much of a choice.

The table was wrapped in a dire stillness. One wrong move, and their delicate balancing act could collapse.

As Cadance unfroze, she flared her wide, pink wings and frowned in grave disapproval. “So you are prepared to face the consequences of your actions. Wage the war you have brought upon my people, if you do not get your way.”

“I apologize for my rare lack of foresight in preventing this situation from arising in the first place.”

Rarity blinked. Was that the barest hint of regret in her voice?

Seeking stability, Heartwing looked to Rarity, the look in his eyes asking ‘What do you make of all this?’

However, the polished scales of Rarity’s will were yet untipped. The part of her who wanted to live up to Twilight and Emberglow’s examples begged her to consider further, try and find some other path, a middle ground. Her other half could only picture the Empire she had sworn to protect in shattered ruins, blood splashed on the snow like spilled ink, firm in the certainty of how she could prevent that future, if only she got her own hooves dirty.

Rarity could not find it in her to be the one to choose.

And Heartwing saw. Nodding, he shot a look of resolve to the rest of the council before facing Saint Twilight; for a moment and quite without warning, Rarity saw the analytical mind that had talked many a Diarchy Knight away from their faith. “How illuminating. So let me see if I have this right. While you do claim to care about our well-being alongside the Diarchy’s, in the end, your greatest priority is control. You refuse to explain the reasoning behind your supposedly ‘logical’ actions. You ask for capitulation without providing stakes. It’s clear you’re still hiding something, and that weakens your bargaining position. Any gifts you offer are tainted by deception and manipulation. If you seek peace, then you must offer something in return, and that would require you try and meet us in the middle with some sort of compromise. I want senseless violence as much as you do: not at all.”

Saint Twilight met his gaze for a moment before replying. “By what leverage will you force us into a compromise? Your own violence? Because I would advise against that. If you do comprehend my nature, then you would understand I’d never choose to fight a losing battle.” Calmly, she looked over her shoulder.

Paladin Seven spoke up for the first time. “Seriously, please don’t. I don’t want to kill anyone here if I can help it,” she admitted, despondent and hard-edged. “But I very much can. Just give her the keys to your kingdom, and you can all keep your lives. Don’t make Gusty and I snuff yours out, too.”

“Look, trust me, you don’t wanna fight us,” Paladin Six - Gusty? - insisted, facing Rarity and company after a loaded glance at Seven. Her voice was playful yet carried a dangerous undercurrent. “I’m very bad at holding back, so there’ll probably be a lot of collateral damage and needless casualties. So’s Firefly, really.”

Saint Fluttershy peeked over her shoulder at Ten. The Paladin continued to watch, thoughts inscrutable.

Rarity barely registered a faint recognition of those names. Biting her lip, she wracked her brain for the best method to use her power to sway Saint Twilight from her current course. But she was drawing a complete blank. From the mare’s own utilitarian perspective, problematic though it was, her reasoning had no obvious holes to slip through.

At her sides, Heartwing, Cadance, and the others seemed equally at a loss for words.

However, the least logical pony at the table had plenty. “Do you see now, as I have?” Turquoise suddenly exclaimed with a fire in her eyes, rising from her seat. Rarity had almost forgotten she was present. “You cannot win this war, for the ones blessed by the Diarchs say so!” she declared with fervent passion.

Drawing involuntarily from reserves of dread she did not know she still had, Rarity realized that Turquoise had heard almost nothing that had been spoken, or had, at best, wildly misinterpreted everything. “Sit down, Lady Turquoise!”

But her words fell on deaf ears, and Turquoise turned to the Angel’s Rest city council with self-righteous fire in her eyes. The gaze that met Rarity’s was filled with rage. Not even Saint Twilight’s sternest look proved a deterrent. “There’s no point in delaying the inevitable with this worthless back and forth,” she cried. “If you won’t surrender to the will of the Saints, won’t listen, won’t follow, then you’ll fall by righteous hooves!”

Rarity’s heart skipped a beat as Turquoise leapt onto the table, zealous fervor on her face. For a moment, impossibly brief, time seemed to hang off the edge of the abyss.

Heartwing whipped his head around. Ninelives reached into his jacket. Cadance flinched back. The whole assembly bristled.

Saint Fluttershy raised her hooves, reaching for the Grand Master. “No, don’t!”

It was too little, too late. With a howl, Turquoise lunged straight for Rarity, her armored hoof reared back for a punch. Rarity was able to get her shield up in time to block, an azure bubble coloring her vision and deflecting her raging strike.

“Rarity!” Emberglow screamed.

But neither of them could do nothing to stop the explosion of motion that followed.

Heartwing shot a bolt of magic into Turquoise’s side, knocking her away from Rarity’s shield. At the same time, Cobalt leapt up and over, pouncing onto Turquoise and pinning her beneath him with the ring of metal on metal. Cries of alarm echoed from all directions as the pair started to struggle.

As Rarity flinched away, one of Cadance’s Resplendent, who was slower to react than Heartwing had been, conjured a ball of energy with his gauntlet and shot it into the space where Turquoise’s head had been a moment prior. Instead, it sailed over Cobalt’s back, right into Saint Pinkamena. With a yelp of pain and surprise, the Saint was sent sprawling.

Rarity’s stomach roiled, filling her with a heady dizziness. By the time she was able to process what was happening, Paladin Seven was lowering an advanced-looking pistol as the Resplendent collapsed, blood spraying from a hole between her eyes.

All of the table’s former occupants scattered. Under the table, up with wingbeats, charging straight towards their enemies. Battle cries rent the air. All had descended into a chaotic fog of madness.

Clamping down on her rising panic with sheer will, Rarity backpedaled out of her seat and off the stage, shield still up. Defense first, as her meager combat experience taught that such was the best offense.

Waiting for openings, she started reinforcing the shields of any allies not too close to the fray, starting with Terminus.

Snarling, Turquoise managed to roll overtop of Cobalt as they grappled, only for Cobalt to kick her off of him, hard, sending her off of the negotiating table completely.

She stomped down the piece of her heart which insisted she fly for Emberglow and stay by her side, but there were more ponies here. This was no map-appointed friendship problem: Every minor mistake, every hesitation, and every distraction could cost lives.

Rarity continued to rapidly bubble anypony who needed one within range, including Cactus Flower, who was frozen in fear. “Move, mayor!” Rarity urged. Upon hearing her, she thankfully jolted and fled.

The world's slowest seconds ticked by as she spread her wings. She was running out of friends within clear line of sight to protect; everyone was moving too fast!

Now she should attack, but was Saint Twilight or Lady Turquoise higher priority? For now, she flew upwards to join the Empress in circling above the ground, eyes flicking between Turquoise and Paladin Seven.

Shockwaves of magic-on-magic rent the air, and the report of rifle fire reverberating through the space, making Rarity’s ears ring. Knight reinforcements galloped or flew towards the perimeter of the melee carrying spears, their pointed heads glinting in the unnatural light.

Rarity cleared the way for them by teleporting the many fallen chairs away one after another. Nearly caught between castings, she yelped as she narrowly dodged a ricocheted Discordant rune spell. Paladin Six had swiftly deflected it upwards with the blade of an unusual combat knife she held in a reverse grip.

“My Saints!” Turquoise cried, squaring up against three incoming Discordant with nothing but her gauntlet, interposing herself before them. That is, until Saint Twilight flicked a wing her way and a glowing pink staff, formed of solidified magic, fell into her outstretched hoof.

Rarity turned part of her attention on Turquoise even as she provided covering fire for the other Knights dealing with Paladin Six. She kept her beam spells weak, conserving her energy and focusing on keeping them pinned down.

Meanwhile, Saint Twilight had vanished, and Turquoise was sweeping the staff in an arc that hit an earth pony Discordant’s own gauntlet. When it struck, his gauntlet exploded with arcane sparks as he stumbled away with a scream.

A nearly manic smile on her face, Turquoise was barely managing to avoid or block any fatal blows from the Discordant. She ducked under a unicorn’s sizzling fireball as she clashed hooves with another mare, both Knights reared up for leverage.

Once enough reinforcements had arrived to trap Paladin Six in a ball of Discordant near the stage, Rarity spied Saint Fluttershy sidestepping Heartwing’s wide laser of magic before taking off, and switched targets. His beam passed beneath Saint Fluttershy’s tucked legs as he twisted his head to the side to train it on her, scouring the far rock wall black as it tapered off. Rarity followed up with her own attack, nearly as potent, but Saint Fluttershy barrel rolled out of the way like a trained acrobat.

Heartwing redirected his onslaught towards Paladin Ten, a fierce concentration on his face as the two launched and deflected magic missiles with the speed and skill of master wizards, whizzing projectiles of yellow and light green forming a veritable localized hailstorm. The Paladin was using a wand with blue and yellow helices tapering to a point; they had the mobility advantage, and were carefully circling him as they dueled.

Another Discordant tried to shoot them, but the bullet reflected off their armor, making only a small divot and causing them to flinch. Ten batted the Knight away with a powerful burst of levitation, sending them skidding across the ground, then, grabbing the rifle in their wand’s telekinesis, twisted the barrel into an irreparable knot.

This left Saint Fluttershy unopposed. Rarity followed the Saint, winging past Cadance as she shot razor-sharp blue crystals back at Paladin Seven, which carved lines into her helmet but refused to penetrate.

Clamorous wails of terror, fury, and pain followed Rarity upwards as violence thundered all around her.

A large-bodied pegasus Discordant rose into the air to do battle with Saint Fluttershy as well, the blades edging his wings long and sharp as he circled closer.

Rarity fired an opening salvo, elegantly and unpredictably spiraling bolts of force.

But a wooden shield suddenly appeared in the Saint’s hooves, carved with strange patterns and obviously enchanted, and she caught Rarity’s spells with it instead of trying to outmaneuver them, using the momentum to flip away from the pegasus’ wheeling fly-by slashes.

Then, she retaliated, summoning a pair of barely visible darts, sending one sailing towards each of them with gusts of wind precisely aimed at their feathered bases. As she fired, there was a calm reluctance in her eyes, as if she was fighting with old instincts, and not out of malice.

The pegasus, having too much inertia to change course quickly enough, was grazed in the ear by the dart, his Knight-standard protective spell failing to stop the slower-moving object. A second later, he was screaming, his wings locking up as he began to plummet.

Rarity’s shield, meanwhile, did halt the dart, which plinked off her bubble. However, when it collided, it sent a searing pain down her horn, causing her to miss a flap. Poison?

She instinctively spun to catch the falling stallion, stress-sweat building under her coat, but Cadance beat her to it.

Meanwhile, Saint Fluttershy juked into Rarity’s path, watching her warily as whorls of pressurized air gathered between her hooves, the air humming with potential energy.

Forced back, Rarity grit her teeth as she came in for a hard landing on an open patch of rock at the edge of the square on the far side to avoid the rupturing pulse, lest it break her weakening shield.

The sonic boom went wide, colliding with a full metal dustbin. It was torn to shreds, sending dust and litter everywhere.

Taking advantage of the particulate cloud to conceal her movements, Rarity galloped to take cover behind a nearby building, squinting against the dust even as it coated her throat with each frenzied inhalation.

Quickly regrouping through the sheer chaos of the situation, as the dust cleared, her eyes were drawn to the colorful Saint Pinkamena some distance away. Most strangely, she didn’t seem to have any tricks, unlike her old friend, and was relying on her Grand Master to protect her, fear writ large in her stolen blue eyes.

Turquoise twirled and lashed out with her magic staff like a mare possessed, but she couldn’t handle all the Knights Discordant herself. That presented an opening, and Rarity took it, using a crystal spell she’d learned to grow a line of amethyst along the ground towards Turquoise, trying to trip her up.

At the same time, Heartwing levitated no less than four swords off of an arriving Knight’s back and into the air over their heads before lancing them at Pinkamena all at once from different directions.

But Saint Twilight, abandoning her current pursuit of Cadance, flickered into the path of two, magically pulling a slanted wall of stone from below to deflect them.

With a gasp, Turquoise parried a Discordant’s spear aside and leapt, catching one of Heartwing’s swords on a panel of her barding, but leaving herself exposed to a furious right hook from another Knight, blood spraying as her nose was broken from the hit.

The last struck home, carving a long furrow down Pinkamena’s back, thin fluid spurting free. Her auroral robes fell a bit on her frame as she cried out again, tripping over Rarity’s crystals as she bobbed and weaved, stumbling to the ground. A diving shield bash from Saint Fluttershy sent Heartwing tumbling head over heels - or wheels - preventing him from pressing further, but the damage was done.

Other Knights, as well as Ninelives, were there to deliver the coup-de-grâce.

It was not to be. Saint Twilight reached the wounded pair first, and all three disappeared in a large pop of magic. Their weapons struck only empty space. Heartwing and company whipped their heads around to search, but they were nowhere to be seen. A tactical retreat.

However, not everyone had left. In fact, Paladin Ten, the one whose name she had not heard, was running straight for her. And she was getting close!

Screaming, out of time to think of a more elegant response, Rarity tried to halt the enemy’s advance by grabbing a bench from nearby and launching it at their legs.

However, the Paladin smoothly leapt over it and into a somersault, then spun behind the building herself.

Instead of beginning to pummel her shield, though, they unexpectedly stopped just out of reach. “Rarity, you need to listen to me,” they - she - commanded. There was so much noise now that she was practically shouting full blast to be heard over the din in Rarity’s ears, yet there was something about her voice that still carried sincerity, or familiarity. “I’m switching sides!”

The words themselves were so profoundly unexpected that all she could do was sputter in confusion. “W-What? Why?”

“I’ll explain later!” she barked. “Just take these,” she added, thrusting a handful of small objects at her. Rarity reflexively picked them up in her aura.

They were… some of the anti-unicorn amulets? Why give her these now? Still, they were inactive at the moment, since her hornglow could touch them, and she quickly tucked them into her mane.

Two Knights Discordant, Cobalt and an earth mare, suddenly charged in to flank Ten, having missed their brief dialogue, and tried to skewer the Paladin from both sides, spears raised at high angles.

Without even looking, she waved her wand, levitating the mare on her left as she grabbed the haft of the Cobalt’s spear between her fingers before its point could reach. She whipped him behind her and into his fellow, sending them both sprawling. Then she tightened her fist and snapped the wooden weapon in half.

Then, she actually dropped down onto one knee and bowed her head, making no further moves even as Cobalt and the Discordant mare stood, looking as perplexed as Rarity felt.

Deciding, with a burst of anxiety, not to look the offered alliance in the mouth, Rarity gulped and nodded. “All of you, follow me!”

She then spun back around and broke for the core of the fighting, Ten, and the duo of Knights on her tail. Rarity hoped that none of her friends had been lost in the crossfire, but Cobalt’s presence was reassuring.

She had to find a clear path to her foes. But there were so many bodies running, shouting, and colliding that picking out a gap was like finding one of her precious needles in a haystack.

And then, a flash of magenta.

Saint Twilight reentered the fray from on high, wings spread like a valkyrie of Rockhoof’s kin.

Discordant pegasi rose to meet her.

But there was still little space, and so Rarity made some. Beginning to cast, Ten joined Rarity in conjuring a spherical shield around the four of them to replace her flagging personal one. With her long strides, she easily kept pace as Rarity moved, the others too busy to notice Ten’s shift of apparent allegiance.

That lasted only until they rejoined the ongoing brawl, when Saint Fluttershy tossed the Knight she was grappling with over her shoulder with a grunt of effort, the mare’s armor clanging like a bell against the stone. She pivoted to put the Knight in a chokehold and knock them out, but stopped when she saw Ten as a result.

The Saint blinked at Ten and Rarity in resignation. “Yeah, I figured this might happen,” she sighed. She stowed her wooden buckler back where it had come from and walked up to them.

“Of course you did,” said the Paladin. “You know me best.”

“And yet…” Saint Fluttershy’s expression shifted as she gave Rarity a strange look, wordlessly sidling up to the Paladin with more closeness than expected from a subordinate and commander.

“Oh?” Rarity voiced. Cobalt watched both Paladin and Saint carefully.

“Again, later,” Ten added.

Well, that was two adversaries who had stopped fighting. Rarity turned. Three more to go.

Paladins Six and Seven were back to back now, working in tandem to try and incapacitate the remaining Discordant, who were bound and determined to avenge the fallen, spell and edge pressing them in on all sides, as the Knights roared.

But no combination of runes, numerical advantage, or Terminus Flash’s expertly aimed rounds phased the pair, who continued to fight tirelessly.

For every wound the battered Paladins suffered, they inflicted five back with blade, bullet, fist or explosion. Bone shattered. Black armor chipped. Terrible, peerless violence.

Ten followed Rarity’s gaze. “We’re technically breaking ranks right now; they won’t listen,” she said, preemptively answering her question, hints of shame and regret coming through in her tone as she ran.

Meanwhile, the Knights were staggering to exhausted heaps one after another. Though they seemed close in fighting prowess, and the Discordant ruled the air, the Paladins had significantly longer natural reach, and apparently inexhaustible stamina.

It was a battle of attrition, despite the numbers gap, and Rarity wanted to ensure ‘exhausted’ became ‘deceased’ for as few creatures as possible.

“Besides,” Ten continued, turning to Rarity, “it has to be you. Paladins and Saints have the same critical weakness: an antimagic zone. Do you know that spell?”

Rarity blinked in confusion. “I do, yes.”

It wasn’t a terribly difficult spell to cast; She’d learned it from her Twilight construct, even. But its applications were normally extremely limited, especially today. Sure, it could clear away all spells aimed at you in an emergency, but it also shut off any protective spells or enchantments on your person until you left the zone, which had to be centered on the caster. And without their innate magic, ponies became very lethargic, as if they had been drained, so quickly getting free was out.

One bullet fired from inside or out, and the caster would be in big trouble. So, given that risk, trained wizards almost always just picked the proper counterspell instead.

But Paladin Ten was saying an antimagic zone was the perfect spell here, in spite of all that. “Isn’t that too risky?” Rarity asked, breathless.

As Saint Fluttershy frowned slightly at Ten, the Paladin answered, her voice taking on a gentle, almost pleading tone. Again, the vaguely familiar voice tickled ever-so-softly at her memory. “I know how it sounds, but it really is the quickest way to stop them. Please, just get in close and cast a zone big enough to envelop Firefly and Gusty without reaching the two of us. Not for us, for your friends.”

As Rarity rapidly weighed the pros and cons, Cobalt spoke up, gesturing to Ten. “I could tell this one was pulling her punches, compared to the others.” The other Knight mare nodded.

This plan was a gamble, certainly. But Rarity had to believe it would succeed. The alternative was allowing this slaughter to continue unabated. “Let’s go.”

So, she burst into a gallop, the two Knights at her sides, and quickly closed the distance to where the other Paladins were still locked in battle with Heartwing, Terminus, and company.

Once she was close enough to the melee for the zone to reach, while simultaneously being far enough away that they hadn’t switched to attacking her yet, Rarity skidded to a stop and lit her horn to summon the zone.

Light became slightly distorted, almost like a mirage, at the boundaries of the resulting hemisphere.

The effects were immediate. Rarity groaned as supreme exhaustion took hold, and her head slumped low.

“R-Rarity?” asked a now woozy Terminus as he glided down next to her and the others. “Why did you…?” In front of them, the rest of the Knights were reacting in a similar manner, many uttering obscenities mid-motion.

Those all ceased with a heavy pair of crashes. Forcing her eyes upwards, Rarity was stunned to see that the two Paladins hadn’t merely been inflicted with fatigue, they were fully unconscious, lying face first and completely motionless on the stone.

Paladin Ten had been trustworthy after all.

She still didn’t know why, but that could wait, as she just realized what the amulets were for. Lurching forwards, she carefully looped one around each of their necks, turning them on with a press. This way, they would stay incapacitated once the zone wore off.

Yet at the moment, exhaustion overrode triumph, and Rarity very much wished to be out of the antimagic zone. She slowly shuffled back the way she came until she was fully free of its suppressive effects, her vigor and magic immediately returning to her.

Cadance landed, weary but alert, beside Rarity as she did. “I don’t know how you knew that would work, but great job, Rarity. Did these two have a change of heart?” she asked, gesturing to Ten and Saint Fluttershy.

“I believe so,” she confirmed, shooting the pair a grateful smile.

Looking over her shoulder and to the sides, she saw Terminus and Cobalt clutching at their heads as they shook off the effects of the antimagic zone, then both immediately started scanning the area.

Most of the Knights had also left it in one way or another, or were carrying their injured fellows away under Heartwing’s direction, either up to the city entrance or to where Emberglow and another medic were rapidly assessing and treating any casualties yet to become fatalities. Heartwing’s wheels were cracked and barely holding together, but they thankfully seemed to have absorbed the force of Saint Fluttershy’s earlier blow, and could be quickly repaired with a spell. The stallion himself looked fine.

Rarity silently thanked the stars.

Saint Twilight was their only opponent remaining. She cast the pair of prone Paladins a look of mild dissatisfaction before teleporting away in one final crackle of energy, dodging a sweeping sword slash Heartwing had aimed for her neck. This time she did not return, vanishing from the cave completely.

It was over.

Tension drained from Rarity’s limbs and horn as she let herself relax, nearly vibrating with relief. She was filthy, but intact. Not whole, though.

Rarity galloped for her other half, beelining directly for Emberglow. Once she’d finished casting a spell to stem the bleeding on the flank of a prone Discordant, she rose and turned to meet her, the mare’s own aqua blue eye softening and shimmering.

Rarity practically flew into her open hooves, gripping tightly and never wanting to let go. Her heart leapt for Emberglow as she felt her wife shaking in her arms.

Terminus, having followed, managed a small smile, though his eyes were still hard. Cadance’s was a bit wider as she walked up to them, though her wary eyes shifted back and forth to Paladin Ten and Saint Fluttershy.

Only when Rarity could feel Emberglow’s own racing pulse calm did she pull away, their muzzles inches apart. But Rarity willed herself upright, carefully approaching steps sounding behind her.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Emberglow uttered, tone somber, as she too recomposed herself, before glancing over her shoulder with concern at the recuperating Knights. “I’ve done all I can for those still breathing.” As she finished the sentence, her ears twitched in concern and suspicion as she abruptly noticed who was accompanying Rarity.

Rarity brushed some dust off her dress and pivoted. For a few drawn out seconds, the Saint and Paladin tried their best to look nonthreatening, standing relaxed and motionless. Terminus, mouth in a line, casually rested a rifle - not his personal weapon, but a loaner - across his back, such that it happened to point at the Saint’s head, one wing still on the trigger. “What are they doing with you?” he asked, voice sharp.

Empress Cadance, who was still studying the pair with consideration, hummed.

When Emberglow silently echoed her wordless demand for an explanation with her raised brows, Ten merely said “I’ll explain, I promise.”

“I can already hazard a guess, but I’d love to hear your justification for going against orders in your own words, myself,” noted Saint Fluttershy, who looked up at Ten with a deep concern of her own.

“Rarity?” Emberglow asked, not taking her eyes off them.

This was no longer the time to mince words. Rarity exhaled, reaching for candor. “I’m still not sure about ‘Fluttershy’ here, as she did try to poison me earlier, but I can vouch for Paladin Ten. I and others believe she could have easily inflicted major harm upon myself or others if she wished, yet she did not. Moreover, she informed me of her cohorts’ weakness.”

Both she and Emberglow looked to Ten, where her eyes would have been beneath her mirrored visor. Emberglow flicked her tail. Eventually, she acquiesced. “I trust your judgment, Rarity. For now, I want to give them the benefit of the doubt. Set a good example.”

Rarity smiled. She’d expected as much.

“I agree,” added Empress Cadance, her crown reflecting the magelights above as she set her posture. “We’ve already had one skirmish today, courtesy of Lady Turquoise’s incredibly rash actions. Even if this truce proves temporary, it’s better than the alternative.”

Their testimonials hitting the mark, Terminus snorted. “If I see anything alternative, I’ll shoot. Clear?” he said, deathly serious as he scrutinized the Saint and Paladin.

“As crystal,” Ten confirmed with a nod of deference. “We’ll stay where you can see us, right, Saint?” There had been the smallest of pauses before the last word.

“Of course,” Saint Fluttershy replied, carefully stepping towards the tunnel alongside Ten.

“Fine,” Terminus said, turning to march along after them.

As they left, Rarity twisted to the side to make sure Firefly and Gusty were still incapacitated. The other bodies present weren’t ever getting back up, and she needed to be certain more would not be lost.

Ten nodded in approval Rarity’s way. “I knew you were on top of things. You didn’t even need me to tell you what the amulets were for after you got the zone up.” Then, she turned to Cadance. “I’d advise against ever turning the amulets off for an interrogation. You saw them fight, it’s not worth the risk, and I know them. They wouldn’t talk.”

The Empress hummed in consideration. “I’ll be sure to let the others know.”

With that, a few of the lingering Knights who were still in good shape, led by Ninelives, joined up with them as they made for the city’s exit. The Empress would be leaving shortly, and Rarity wanted to ensure she departed safely.

One of the Knights had brought over the two blades and two odd firearms the Paladins had wielded. Blood and other substances still clung to the uniquely deadly armaments.

“Good thinking,” Terminus said, taking the confiscated weapons and studying them with a trained eye. “I doubt we have ammo that could work with those guns, never seen their like. But not having them aimed at us is plenty.”

“Yeah,” said Ten, shifting her weight. “Honestly, I’m glad you knew how to cast an antimagic zone, Rarity. It’s certain Firefly and Gusty would’ve been ranked higher for their combat prowess if they weren’t also so rash.”

“That’s one way to put it,” quipped the Saint.

“In any case, those two have been taken care of, so let’s go,” Emberglow insisted, a serious look on her face as she fluffed her wings. “I need to make sure Heartwing and the others don’t need medical attention.”

“Of course, Emberglow,” Rarity confirmed. “We should hurry.”

Without further delay, they all threaded the path out of Angel’s Rest.

They gathered in a meadow, nestled in a valley between two hills almost large enough to be called mountains. Small wildflowers of all colors and varieties, from white baby’s breath to pink daisy-like coneflowers, carpeted the landscape. Their petals danced in waves, moved by the breeze.

The first thing Rarity and company did was meet up with the rest of her friends. Heartwing was badly bruised, but intact. His wheels were barely holding together, multiple spokes having snapped, the wooden frame cracked, though they could be repaired. Cadance’s injuries were a bit worse, including a sprained leg. Her coat was scorched in spots, and a few of her feathers were bent, but nothing too dire. Emberglow used her last few motes, plus some ointment and bandages, to fix them up. Lofty Tale and Topaz were fully unharmed.

Of course, others hadn’t been so lucky as to only have emotional wounds. This had been a harrowing ordeal, some perhaps having never experienced death or war firsthoof before today.

Her heart ached for those mourning the lost. All because of Lady Turquoise’s rashness, they were gone. Courageous souls, snuffed. Too much had turned sour, wrong. She hadn’t been able to protect them.

Rarity clenched her eyes shut and prayed to the stars that they could rest in peace, that their loss would not be in vain.

Soon, Cadance was ready. She hopped onto her regal sky chariot, her single remaining pegasus Resplendent and a fresh volunteer hitched to the front. “I’d love to stay and hear this, but the Empire needs me,” she said. “This war is still coming, and I must be there to lead my people.”

“We understand. Godspeed, Grandmother,” said Topaz, actually giving her a rare salute as her chariot took off into the sky.

There was a long, expectant stillness as they all watched her departure. Then the six of them standing in a circle placed the full weight of their attention - and emotion - upon Ten and Saint Fluttershy.

Lofty’s stern-eyed disapproval matched what Emberglow and Terminus still broadcast, while Topaz’s expression was one of concern, studying their one-time assailants as she would any in need of her wisdom. Rarity herself wasn’t sure what to think, the only certainty being her own curiosity.

“You could have tried harder, earlier, to stop this, you know,” said Heartwing, his throat tight as he gored Ten with his livid gaze, voice cracking. “My brothers-in-arms are dead because of you people.”

Ten hung her head slightly. “I wasn’t resolved to defy the course until most of the way through the negotiations. By then there was no time for me to speak out; the Grand Master acted before I could.”

Heartwing leaned forwards, nose raised skeptically, until Terminus shot him a look. Then, he deflated somewhat, picking at the grass with a hoof.

“For what little my apology is worth, I am deeply sorry,” Ten intoned.

After a beat, Lofty let out a scratchy sigh, idly reaching back to brush a hoof through his visibly confused son’s mane as he spoke. “Apologies are one thing. I’m waiting for you to enlighten us in full, as Rarity told us you would.”

Topaz nodded. “If you would be so kind,” she added, rolling her hoof at the Paladin to get on with it. “Because if you’re going to take all day, Lofty and I will leave to return to our son back home.”

“It’s funny, those are in essence the main two reasons why,” Ten said, a smile in her voice. “Kindness and family.”

Rarity peered closer into her unseen face, uncomprehending. “Why, whatever are you talking about?”

Meanwhile, Saint Fluttershy flinched, eyes widening as she faced the Paladin. “Wait, she’s actually the same—”

She couldn’t finish her sentence in time as Ten reached for her obsidian helmet with both hands, pulling it off in a slow, deliberate motion.

And Rarity nearly couldn’t believe her eyes. Everything else faded into the background as her mind flipped over itself trying to grapple with what she was seeing. An alien, almost simian face, yes, but… the pink and lavender curls, falling past her ears. Chalk-tone skin, and fern green eyes. The resemblance was uncanny.

No. No, surely, she... It was impossible.

The Paladin whom Rarity had until now known only by her number, smiled gently at her. Compassion twinkled in Sweetie Belle’s eyes. “Hey, big sis.”