The bedchambers of Rain Shine, the High Priestess of the one of the many Kirin peoples, was… unusually busy today.

Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack! Tap-tap-tap-tap-

A small group of Kirin guards and healers watched curiously as the odd stallion who called himself “Grogarit” held a smooth hammerstone in a black aura; he used it to shape a tiny piece of obsidian to a point, using the stone floor as an anvil. He was large, with a long skull and thick hooves, covered in dull blue fur with a fiery red mane. His singular horn was stubby like a newly-sprouted branch on a tree, the ‘roots’ of the boney appendage extending below his eyes and just reaching the bridge of his nose; Over the passing millenia, the only clothes he wore had been reduced only to tattered rags and a copper helmet with some boney protrusions above the eyes and behind the ears.

According to Grogarit, it was once a headdress embellished with the horns and skull of something he called an Ibex, which would’ve covered his face… Now, only the bases of the bone melded with the metal remained.

Indeed, the Kirin people had never seen anything like this stallion before; any attempts to extinguish his life have been met with utter failure, as stab wounds would close, his skull would un-cave itself after a blow, arrow heads would worm their way out of his wounds… Even their sacred Fire seemed to do nothing, only producing screams for mercy in a language none of them have ever heard before.

But the fire is what set him free from his icy imprisonment- and for that, he seemed genuinely grateful. After staring one of their compatriots in the eye for a few minutes, both of them glowing black, he was able to speak their language!

He claimed to be a healer- and their High Priestess desperately needed one. She lay on the charred slab of stone that was once her bed- her fur was charred black like coal, her mane glowing a dull, crackling ember of purple and blue; a chronic, debilitating, and worsening headache after a nasty fall and concussion left her in this feverish, bedridden state. In her bedroom with walls covered in shiny black tiles, with the floor an incomprehensible mosaic of shining stone tiles that reminded Grogarit of a great heart made of fire... Even the torches on the wall matched their High Priestess, glowing in fantastic blues and purples that outshone her.

Tap-tap-tap…

Grogar smirked in satisfaction as he brought the sharp chunk of obsidian closer to his face to inspect it- it was no bigger than the tip of a horn and pointed on both ends, stubby and thin; this would make the tip of his ‘wand’ to assist with the procedure.

“Bring me the sticks of greenless copper, as I requested.” He spoke their language simply from where he sat on the stone floor; the priestesses bedmaidens were tasked with being Grogarit’s assistants, bringing him whatever supplies he would need.

They brought him a pair of long and thin, flat plates of copper sheeting- each not much wider than a fat bumblebee, not much thicker than an ant, and approximately ‘One Hufit long’- Or, about arm-length. They were made by melting copper to an amorphous glob, holding it in a magical field, and stretching it out thin into long rods, hammered flat.

He stood up and squished the flint head between the pieces of copper, leaving the sharp tip protruding- and by pressing his glowing horn and focusing intensely, he could spot-melt the copper so it formed around the base of the tip; the type of concentration that being frozen in ice doesn’t allow. He winced and groaned in pain as he felt his hair and flesh on his head and face constantly melting and reforming because of the heat. When the two pieces of metal were joined, the core of his wand was completed.

Despite the sweat pouring down his face, he remained unscarred. “Bring…” He tried to speak between his panting breaths. “Tar of wood… bucket.”

Next the bedmaidens brought him a clay pot full of warm, sticky tar made from birch wood. He dipped the non-pointed handle of his wand into it, letting it sit momentarily before taking it out and handing it back to the kirins; the group stood in a circle and held the wand in a shared magic field, each one pulling a little of the moisture out of the tar until it was firm. The process was repeated a few more times until the wand had a nice, rounded shaft, not much wider than the flint; the shiny dried tar handle matched the ebony tip beautifully, and he nodded with a smirk.

“The priestess must be stilled before I can begin; lest the demon fight back its inevitable banishment.” sweat poured off his forehead from the warmth permeating the bedchamber while he waited on them to bind their Priestess down with rope, lest the Spirit of Evil make her thrash wildly; The Priestesses daughter- in charge of things while she was incapacitated- couldn’t bear to watch what he described to her. Couldn’t bear to watch her mother in pain from a demon’s influence.

“Stranger Grogarit?” One of the maidservants spoke up- Stranger was just a formal way of addressing other kirin’s outside their tribe. As he turned, she sat on her flanks, holding a clay bowl, painted red. “Would firebeer help calm the nerves?”

Upon closer inspection, he recognized this Kirin. She stabbed him in the eye while he was still stuck in ice; but nevertheless, he couldn’t help but smirk as he graciously accepted her offer. “I have banished many a maligned spirit in my time; I assure you, this is as easy as breathing for me.” He took a deep swig of the odd Beer of the Kirin; and it was gloriously strong- far stronger than any beer that was brewed in his time. He couldn’t help but shudder as he felt it burn his throat- “A gift most gracious indeed. And as my first sip of beer since being freed… I will cherish this memory.” He downed the rest of the bowl and cringed, quickly regaining his composure with a smile. “Thank you.”

He returned the bowl to her without further conversation, unconcerned as to whether or not that was a gesture of apology; he was free. He was so happy, forgiving a slap to the cheek was easy.

“Bring the obsidian blade and the portable flame. I’ll explain the process as I go along.” He examined the Priestesses charcoal-black scalp, looking for a path to the Spirit. Once he found what he needed, he grabbed the flint knife; it was a tiny blade with a bone handle; meanwhile, the bedmaidens set something they called a candlestick next to him, held in a copper… holder. He held the sharp blade to the candle's flame momentarily. “Treating the blade with fire will make it intensely difficult for the spirit to re-enter when your back is turned.” he spoke while the doctors followed along and listened.

He took his purified knife and held the edge against her scalp- “Many of the ancient kings and queens of my epoch entrusted their lives to me.” He slid the blade along in a straight line, little wider than a dandelion. “Many a warrior, cursed by a wicked spirit from a foul enemy, has returned to full-faculties after my ministrations.” He made another slice in a cross-shape, peeling the flaps of skin on the side of her scalp back like a blooming flower… with a moist, somewhat bloody skull beneath.

“Boiling cauldron.” He spoke- the servants bringing out a cauldron made of some strange metal called bronze. It was an alchemical alteration brought on by the ritual combining of a particular pair of metals- and Grogarit had to applaud their ingenuity. A cloth was magically dipped into the boiled water, rung out and used to clean off the exposed skull; once the skull was cleaned, he used it to clean off the knife-

“The High Priestess, she is in pain!” One of the ignorant fools spoke up, Grogarit huffing in annoyance. Despite being unresponsive, she displayed her pain via strained grunting; an intense scowl marked her face, and if Grogarit were an amateur, her constant panicked straining might have been problematic.

“The writhing and squirming are that of the Evil Spirit; like a cornered rat, it will claw and grab at the walls of the home it made for itself desperately. It is the wolf that begs you to let it frolic in your herd’s pastures- cunning, but predictable.” The rag was cleaned off in a clay pot full of clean water before a servant took it away and left a different pot and rag. Setting the cleaned knife off to the side, he spoke- “The boiling water, the fire, the constant cleaning- my centuries of practice revealed to me a direct correlation between these things and the banishment of all manner of spirits.”

“The next step is to create a hole with which you can use to drain the evil spirit out. The method I use requires the drilling of small holes, creating a circle of these holes about… a dandelion flower’s width.” Finally, he grabbed his wand- holding the tip to the flame and finding a point near the corners of the exposed skull to start. “Back to what I was saying… Boiling water or brewing beer keeps away spirits that cause dysentery. Wearing a thick cloth over the mouth and nose helps keep the Consumption away. Burning a wound will keep the spirits in the air from entering your blood.” Using the smooth hammerstone, he lightly tapped the butt of the wand, leaving a small chip in the skull. Next, he grabbed a simple bow in his magic- of the type used for rapidly turning a stick to produce a spark, wrapping it around the haft of the wand and twisting it. Leaning in close he used two hooves to keep the tip of the wand stable while his magic worked the bow. “Allow me a moment of silence. I’ve knocked on the Spirit’s door- now it is time to enter.”

The obsidian blade made a relatively smooth hole as it chipped its way in; at a certain point, he had to stop every few moments to make sure he didn’t dig too deep. Several stretches of scratching against bone would commence before a brief pause would reveal more bone underneath. This went on until finally- he saw the light pinkish skin that lined the inside of the skull. He felt like he could breathe a sigh of relief as he angled the wand and used the same method to widen it out around the edges, before starting another hole right next to it.

“Purification and cleanliness is the common theme here. Things that smell bad cause disease- this connection can be no mere coincidence, as things that smell bad are often unclean!” He explained, drilling away at the skull while the gathered healers pondered his wisdom. “There are even methods where one can clean the dead, reanimating the remains while leaving the spirit in their afterlife.” He continued to explain, pleasantly surprised to hear their curious chattering- normally, he’d get a lot of questioning and murmuring in response, along with the occasional outrage. More and more, he was liking these Kirins; but nevertheless, he had a spirit to banish!

The drilling went on for ages, maidservants occasionally making sure to force their priestess to drink tiny sips of water; Grogarit was patterning the holes tightly next to each other in a circle until the piece could safely be chipped off, without tearing at the layer of skin beneath; it was placed on an ornate piece of cloth on a bronze plate, while the doctor held the obsidian knife to the flame once again in preparation.

“Don’t lose that Relic; making it into an amulet will assist in protecting your Priestess from future evil spirits.” He said, one of the assistants holding a clay bowl under the Priestess’ head. “Now, we drain the spirit.” He said, holding the knife to the soft, fleshy skin protecting her brain.

Never thought I’d have to hitchhike and leave the Nightgaunt behind- but thankfully, we got picked up by some guy driving a new PC Model A- That is, People’s Car, Model A. Shortening the name was probably the best move for ol’ Johnny… that’s the guy who owns the company, and the same one I pointed a gun at until he damn near pissed himself yesterday.

My wife sat behind our gracious 20-something year old driver named Antony, gazing mystified at the passing countryside in thought, right elbow casually resting atop our cooler; probably because me and the guy spent ten straight minutes just talking about how cool that cooler was. My glovebox shotgun was pointed at the floorboard, resting between my legs. I unloaded it before we were picked up- but as long as he doesn’t know that, he knows not to try anything… stupid. I don’t think this guy would, though- he was hella chill. Pun not intended.

“I still can’t believe… of all the people to run into, you know?” He mused not long after my wife finished rejoicing over the fact that we weren’t talking about the cooler anymore. “What happened to you two, anyway? If-if that’s alright for me to ask!” he stuttered, and I couldn’t help but chuckle, taking a sip from a Tangelo; the cupholders between our seats weren't stock, just an aftermarket add-on… two cup holders, that is. I can respect a man with taste.

I hadn’t even explained what happened up until this point- as soon as I heard him yell, holy moly, that’s one of those coolers my dad’s been wantin’! I just had to talk about it.

“Anton, don’t tell me you didn’t see that beautiful pile of scrap metal we were standing next to!” I quipped with a chuckle, and he rolled his eyes with a smirk. “I’ll tell ya’ what happened- something in the engine blew! Almost drove us off the road, it shook me so bad!” I chuckled, watching the side of the road for our exit.

“I fix cars for a living- Maybe I can diagnose you?” he suggested, and I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m the only car mechanic in my little town, aside from my father who only knows how to fix his tractor.” He said with a chuckle, and I couldn’t help but swell with pride. “I’m not always busy, but there’s almost always someone looking for a little here-or-there fix. But my little brothers are learning- and I think when they join, we’ll really be onto somethin’…” he blushed and focused on the road, probably realizing he was rambling.

“You got a right to feel proud, kid. You’re doing something important- you’re doing something that Griffonia will need from here on out.” I smirked, twisting around to look at my wife as I spoke- “Honey, guess what! We’ll be talking about cars now, isn’t that exciting?” I asked sarcastically, relishing her annoyed eye-roll with a smirk.

…Am I what happens to a tomboy when she gets older?

That thought aside, from what he told me- the inline-8 chewed up the crankshaft. Apparently it was a common enough problem to be documented in books and the like; it has something to do with internal vibrations in the engine causing the crankshaft to ‘whip’ into the side- walls… fuck me.

When I asked him about the grinding sound, his response was- “Sounds like something in the transmission is a circle now, as opposed to a gear.” Great minds think alike. Damnit.

At some point during the ride, it dawned on me- Anastasia wasn’t gonna be too happy about the car… but my wife raised an even bigger point.

“Hey, any way this thing can go faster?” She urged suddenly, our driver unquestioningly stomped on the gas and shifted into second.

“I was only going that slow ‘cus I figured that’s what you would’ve wanted.” He said with a sheepish grin and a shrug. “Anytime I’m driving someone, you never know what speed they’re comfortable with.” I slapped him on the shoulder with a laugh,

“It’s like I always say- I paid for the whole speedometer, I’m gonna use the whole friggin’ speedometer!” We shared a laugh and he muttered ‘good one, good one!’ “Speaking of which-” but my wife had something to say instead.

“Leona! We have that… thing later in the evening, remember?” She implored, and I cocked an eyebrow,

“What? What’re you talkin’ about?” I asked, turning to look at her.

“That thing.” she said, clacking her hooves together, pointing out the window- “Over there… Come on! With your new friend!” My eyes shot open in realization-

“That’s not until the afternoon, though. Timezones and all’at.” I tapped the side of my head while my wife rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Let’s just get home, alright?” She grumbled to herself, and I gently tapped Antony’s arm.

“Don’t do anything stupid… but pedal to the metal, kid.” He nodded with a smirk, switching to the left lane and kicking it into third-and last- gear.

Much to my surprise- the thing went faster than I thought. At 55-60 miles an hour, my car… wasn’t much faster in comparison…

Shit. Maybe it is time for an upgrade… but I’m sure as shit not letting the Nightgaunt go.

And I didn’t- as soon as I got home, the first thing I did was go in and bring Anton out a thick envelope of cash as a thank you; it was a special envelope, made out of a similar paper we make bills out of. “Keep it for your taxes, kid. Trust me.” The envelope functioned as a receipt of sorts; since he was a business owner and not part of a union, he had to pay a small but fair share to me… or in a broader sense, my government.

Everyone eats at my table; pun not fucking intended. And it’d be stupid to tax money I gave out as a gift, you know?

The second thing I did was have Tonio gather a crew to collect and park Her in the garage. Just as the small crew was pushing my car into its parking spot, I brought Anastasia out to give her one last look at it.

“Are we gonna fix it, Mamma?” gazing mournfully at the car. “All the kids at school think it’s the coolest!” she whined, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Coolest friggin’ car I’ve ever driven, that’s for sure.” In either life, that is; I smirked as we approached Her. “Problem is- new cars are getting faster and faster. And safer, and more reliable-” I explained as I opened the engine bay’s side-flaps. “And whatever broke in here is way past my knowledge to fix.”

She peered at the engine over the fenders forlornly, “Why can’t we take it apart and find out?” She asked, and I just shrugged sheepishly.

“I wouldn’t remember how it goes back together.” I heard her sniffle, and quickly bent down and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m not getting rid of it. I couldn’t. Someday, when I have spare time- then I’ll start messing with it.” I sat on my flanks, lifting her in my arms and letting her chin rest on my shoulder.

“What if I helped you? We could do it together!” I smirked- that wasn’t a bad idea.

“Someday, you and I will fix her together. But right now, I just don’t have the time to do that.” I kissed her on the shoulder, gently setting her on the floor- where she crossed her arms and pouted.

“Then… then what if I learned how to fix it?” She was trying to be defiant- and I threw an arm around her shoulder.

“If you wanna learn how to fix cars, your school has classes for it when you get older. Could be a fun hobby for you!” I patted her on the back, “You already know a lot about ‘em from me and your books, you’re a natural!”

She giggled, returning the hug with a tight squeeze. “Maybe…” She muttered to herself… and I had an idea.

“You want something to read into?” I asked her, “If any of your books mention anything about crankshaft whipping, that’s the probable culprit.” She gasped, running out the doors!

“Okay Mamma!” She darted out the door- Leaving me to prepare my car for storage.

Admittedly- my garage was quite utilitarian, especially compared to your typical rich-person's garage; it was built like a common red-brick warehouse with windows composed of small-panes, built behind my home and slightly obscured by the treeline. It was wide, with plenty of room for all my friends to park their cars, even when the whole family was over. The medium-high roof allowed for a hydraulic lift in the middle of the room, and my red steel toolboxes could be easily wheeled to wherever they were needed. Out back in a fenced-in hut was the gas-powered air compressor, leading to the hose-reels in my garage that could be used for various air wrenches, saws, grinders, and general doo-hickeys; to the layman, my toolbox was a fucking disorganized mess… but to me, it was organized in a disorganized fashion. I can find anything in my toolbox… given enough time.

But what I needed right now was in one of the metal cabinets against the wall; a can of fresh motor oil, nestled between the grimy shop-rags and a few coffee cans full of miscellaneous screws and nails. Throwing a pile of rags directly beneath the engine, I cracked open the can- “Pour one out for those we lost…” I muttered, dousing the broken engine in clean, fresh motor oil. “There. Should keep the rust away.” I lazily set the empty can on the fender step, where it would likely remain a permanent fixture for the time being. Now that my garage floor featured a new oil stain, I shut the hood-flaps and slapped the fender with a grin.

“Whatever happens under that hood is officially… future-me’s problem.” Hopefully, Griffonia will have developed her own WD-40 and PB-Blaster equivalents by the time I get around to fixing my car. Heading out the door, I turned to look at the Nightgaunt one last time for… until the next time I’m in my garage. I shook my head forlornly- “Too soon…” I muttered as I closed and locked the door.

Ever since I talked to Mamma about that incident with the whores, I helped her get in contact with some of her older friends, from before we left for Equestria. They accepted her pretty fast- I guess they assumed Mamma thought she was too good for them or something? But the good thing is, she’s spending time away from the casino’s and the whores. For a while, Anastasia was complaining she missed having Gramma around the house all day- for example, Mamma’s meeting her friends for Brunch-Bingo, and would be out of the house for a few hours.

Anastasia, meanwhile, would be scouring our private library. Skimming through various car-related books and magazines, looking for whatever information she thought would be useful. No sense in bothering her- she gets upset when she can’t find the answer to something…

Rather than stewing with anxiety about what might happen tonight, I decided that a message to Celestia would be in order; that big CEO corporate conspiracy-meeting would be happening this evening- late at night in Equestria. I’ll be honest- I wouldn’t be so concerned about the Crown fucking this up if they hadn’t already fucked up so much.

In my basements locked gun vault (yes, not gun safe. Gun vault.), one could not only find the lighter… but a small arsenal. A multitude of guns, many having some degree of engraving or other embellishment, were displayed neatly on wall-racks on each side of the room. The back wall had a wide workbench in the middle, flanked by rows of black fireproof lockers on either side.

The lockers held cleaning supplies, ammo, anything I was worried would explode in a fire, Anastasia’s gun… and I had Celestia’s lighter, tucked away on the shelf in its protective case next to the box Anastasia’s gun came in. It sat on top of a stack of blank papers next to some pens; I sat at the workbench to write.

Celestia-

It’s Leona again. I’m gonna be frank- I’m a little concerned as to how that whole “thing” is gonna go down tonight; in fact, I’m more than a little concerned. Public opinion is a messy thing; something I’m sure you’re aware of.

Please, for fucks sake- don’t go easy on those rich fucks… if they hadn’t already realized they’ve been compromised. They see your ponies as little more than serfs and slaves that further their interests; and if you give them a slap on the wrist, they’ll see you as an obstacle to be avoided… or worse, removed.

And if the Equestrian Public thinks they got off too easy? If the ponies that were imprisoned or indentured into servitude for wrongthink see their nation's biggest oppressors admit blatantly to corruption and treason before receiving a slap on the wrist? Expect prison riots. Expect mass strikes as the workers see their corporate overlords getting thrown ineffective fines for conspiring to enslave the Equestrian public.

I trust you, Celestia. You know what you’re doing- but the problem is, I only trust Twilight and her cronies about as far as I can throw her. Just… please, tell me you didn’t leave it in her hooves. As for Gallus- I’d trust him even less.

Leona.

I gently opened the lid of the lighter, holding the paper up to the tip.

Clink!

“Fuck it.” I said, closing the lighter and balling up the letter. If I fuck this up, it’ll make me seem desperate- and believe me, I am. When someone says they’re a little concerned… it means they’re very concerned. And if they’re more than a little concerned? They’re desperate.

Maybe I should just smoke a joint and chill for a bit; I got other members of the family filling in while I’m just waiting for any news. That’s why Dee made us hurry getting home; I needed to be ready to respond to whatever comes from this. It’s just easier if I don’t have to drop anything.

I got up, ready to put the supplies back… but I couldn’t do it. I grabbed another piece of paper, quickly jotting down-

Celestia.

If you’d do me a fav-

The crackling of crumpling paper could be heard- “Not a favor. It implies I’d owe her in return.”

Celestia-

If you wouldn’t mind: I’d like a status report on wh-

Crumpling. “Too commanding.” My fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever put this much thought into a letter. Normally, I’d just put ‘Send a status report when it's done.’, But… it just didn’t feel right in this case.

Celestia-

If you wouldn’t mind: I’d be really appreciative if you’d be so kind as to-

Crumpling. “Too… brown-nosey? Toady?... Brown-beaker, technically…” I muttered silently.

Celestia,

…

I clicked my tongue in thought.

“Celestia, my friend.” I dictated out loud as I wrote. “Lemme skip the preamble here…” I paused and muttered a couple different routes to myself; like going for a drive, my brain kind of sees sentences as like… roads with different paths you can go down. I was just trying to find the best path.

“I’d be appreciative to… receive a status report on that thing later…” I muttered, pencil tapping the left side of my beak idly. “As… soon as you are comfortable telling me. I truly am concerned over the long-term wellbeing of Equestria… and by extension, Equus. This is a delicate situation- and situations like these, I’d like to avoid any shrapnel.”

I stared blankly down at the page, thinking of where to take this. I don’t want to just send her a single sentence like a textbook message… er… whatever it was that the Millennial inmates whined about because the cops took their phones away… “Oughta read a book or two sometime…” I muttered to myself… still drawing a blank as to what to write…

I let out a sigh, rubbing my temple with my right palm. “Fuck it. Got plenty of paper.” I spoke aloud before continuing to write-

“May I suggest something? Whatever comes from this, I think… a sort of world summit may not be a bad idea.” I took a deep breath as I considered my words carefully.

“I’ve been thinking; maybe we should all just… Sit down. Relax. Have a nice dinner and just… try and figure out where the world is going… Preferably, with no dragons involved. Maybe we can all learn something from each other? Maybe it’s wishful thinking.” I said with a sigh, just… getting all this off my chest; I wasn’t even sure if I was even gonna send this one.

“You and me, along with Twilight, Cadence, Luna- Hell, invite Thorax if you want. This is entirely your call- but quite frankly, the last time we met in person in the presence of Twilight was… an embarrassment for both of us.” Knowing that Celestia was on ket during that meeting, I couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck Twilight was on; I know I insulted her… several times… but she hit me! “Hmmmm…” I hummed to myself, snapping my fingers when I realized-

“I think what I’m trying to say is- maybe we should separate national interest and personal character from here on. Take a moment, sit down, and be honest with each other; I’ve wronged Equestria in the past. I’m just as aware as you and the Equestrian public where I got the seed capital for Griffonia from. But for the sake of the future- I’d like to make up for it.”

After taking another long pause for thought… I concluded- “Celestia, I’m speaking from the heart here- if you think this is a dumb idea, feel free to tell me to fuck off. It won’t hurt my feelings, you know?” I chuckled and rolled my eyes at myself, “Your friend… Leona.”

I clicked the pen, sighing and cracking my knuckles. There was a small slick of ink on my left hand, which I lazily wiped off against the workbench… then I paused, clicking the pen once more.

“By the way- that thing you did where you made me vomit up a letter? Please, don’t do that again. It was very unpleasant.” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t stalling on sending this letter.

I held the lighter in my left hand, just below the letter, which I folded in half. I stared at my thumb on the striker apprehensively… I closed my eyes.

Cchk! Fwooooooooosh!

“That’s that.” I said aloud, putting the lighter away and heading up to the bedroom. Maybe if I fell asleep for a nap, I’d catch Celestia sleeping in… assuming she reads the letter and falls back asleep? “Okay, that’s kinda dumb.” I muttered with a chuckle as I made my way down the carpeted hallways.

The PA-speaker crackled to life- “Don Grimfeather, you have a call from Starlight Glimmer.” She announced calmly.

I blinked twice- nearby and next to a broom closet was a phone, labeled as 2-B. The speaker produced a sort of white noise, letting me know the operator was on the other end. “It’s me. Send her to line two-dash-B” Is Starlight still not fucking asleep?

She spoke simply- “Sending her… now.” I heard a faint click, leaving silence… before another click produced more white noise, with a faint snoring in the background.

“Starlight, what’s up?” please no more nonsense, I hope. “I thought you’d be passed out in bed by now!” I chuckled, hearing nothing but a yawn on the other end… along with Trixie’s snorting. If it was quiet on my end, it was loud on her end- which is expected. Her wife snores like a diesel engine idles.

“Letter from Celestia.” She spoke into the phone airily… and I forced myself to suppress a sympathetic yawn. “It reads- It’ll be fine. Have faith. Sweet dreams, see you tonight. Celestia. Smiley-face.”

“Woah woah, did she make you do that… fucked-up letter-vomiting thing?” I asked out of concern, receiving another yawn.

“No. Im fine, it came through my horn…” After a few moments of silence underlined by snoring, she spoke- “Can I go-”

“Is that exactly how it’s worded?” I asked, suspicious she might’ve just given me the bare bones summary. That can’t be right, that’s barely a sentence! “I put a lot of thought into that letter!”

“... It’s word for word. It’ll be fine… Have faith…” But I interrupted her sluggish reiteration-

“Smiley face? What’s that mean?” I asked, hearing a sigh on the other side of the line.

“It’s a smiley-face. Pony style- short oval head, triangle ears, round eyes, semicircle nose, single-line smile.” I slowly began to notice the frustration in her voice, and I couldn’t help but get a kick outta this. “The eyes have little pupils staring off in different directions, the mouth has a cheeky tongue in the right-hoof corner. All in blue ink- did you want me to find out what paper it’s printed on, too?”

I held back a snort at the sarcasm and annoyance evident in her voice. On near impulse, I blurted out- “Sure, if you wouldn’t mind!” But evidently, she didn’t find that joke very funny.

“FOR FUCKS- LEONA, CAN I-”
But I yelled louder- “IM SORRY, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE SPEAKING TO?” Dead silence on the other line.

I paused to take a deep breath. “I’m sorry for yelling. It’s been a rough morning for both of us.” I spoke with a sigh, not even hearing the snoring anymore. “But you should know better. You don’t raise your voice at me. Capische?”

I heard her whisper from the other side- “I don’t… I-I’m, I-” and faintly, I heard Trixie’s voice saying- “Just say yes, darling. It’s alright, I’m here for you.” After a few moments of heavy breathing, Starlight spoke up again- “Y-yes. U-understood.”

“Good. Get some rest.” I slammed the phone and rubbed my temple, wanting nothing more than to see my wife.

The bedroom door was shut- so I knocked on it politely before slowly letting myself in. “Dee? Is everything okay?” But as soon as I walked in, I knew something was wrong. She was laying on her side on top of the blanket- sniffling as she rubbed her cheek. Apparently, the rough morning wasn’t over. Can’t I catch a fuckin’ break?

“Y…h. Fine.” Her voice cracked, skipping the first word halfway through- without seeing her face, I knew she’d been crying. “Unbreakable… Diamonds are un-breakable.” the way she enunciated unbreakable sounded like two different words mashed together.

“You are unbreakable, honey.” I kicked the door behind me closed and got to work unstrapping my leg. “I’m comin’!” I said as I hopped over to the bed, snuggling close behind my wife. I put my arm under her head, resting my chin against the top of her mane; right arm around her chest and my tail wrapped around her leg. “What’s tha’ matter?”

“No-...ing…” she sniffled, choking back sobs as I muttered-

“Yeah, sounds like it.” I decided to rest my eyes, quietly comforting her until she was ready to talk. Until then, I gently stroked the soft fur along her side and her belly.

“Diamonds… aren’t supposed to have f-flaws.” She was so choked up, it sounded like she was struggling to talk. “Wh-why am I so… so…” Another sob, and I rested my hand on her tummy with a proud smirk.

“You better clean your fuckin’ loupe, because I’m not seeing any flaws in this Diamond.” I ruffled her fur, and she scoffed.

“Yeah, right.” she grumbled bitterly, and I squeezed myself against her back with a sigh. “I can’t help who I am… So why do I feel so… so disgusted with myself?” I decided to just hold her and listen while she huffed. “Why… I love hurting others, I have no shame in that… I just… hate myself when I hurt you!” She started to shudder, threatening to break down into tears again-

“Honey, what brought this on? That talk we had in the car?” before it blew up, that is- and she shrugged. I honestly… I was starting to regret ever bringing any of this up… ever discovering all that stuff.

“Everyth-thing…” She sniffled, “I-I’m sorry I can be so… so…” she sniveled, unable to finish her sentence- and I shuddered.

“It-it’s alright, honey. I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you.” I whispered in her ear, voice cracking along the way. “You’re a brave mare for what you went through. It’s not your fault.” Her breathing slowly began to steady, and I felt relief in my chest.

“R-really?” She squeaked out, “Y-you don’t think l-less-”

“Honey!” I interrupted her, “Never. You’re my wife- I love you, baby. You’re so important to me.” I whispered in her ear, and I could see her smirk.

“I f-feel a lot better.” She whispered, and I grinned ear-to-ear.

“Good.” We were both still feeling kind of full from dinner- I kind of zoned out while we cuddled, not really sleeping, but hardly conscious either. But after some time had passed, I was rapidly snapped out of it by Anastasia.

“MAMMA!” She yelled, barging into the room and making me flinch. “SPIDER IN THE LIBRARY! BIG SPIDER!”

“Not me.” My… loving wife whispered, and I rolled my eyes as I climbed out of bed.

“Leg.” I sat on my chair, and Anastasia ran to grab my prosthetic. I strapped it over my socket hastily, hopping off the chair and trying to keep up with Anastasia.

“Before it gets away!” She yelled as I chased her, coming to a rapid halt outside the library.

“Where is it?” I asked, and she hid underneath me and pointed at the reading table in the middle.

“Up there!” I stopped her at the doorway, approaching the table and throwing a random book under my wing.

Nice, flat area, it stood- A teal-blue spider, with red eyes and a frowny-face pattern on its fat abdomen. It was a house spider, native to Equestria- Proven to be utterly harmless, it is now believed the frowny-face was a simple evolutionary adaptation to make it seem… scarier? I guess???

It looked up at me and postured, waving its front arms and rearing upward. “Look out!” Anastasia yelled.

THWAP! The book came down hard on the spider, crushing it against the desk and saving the day.

I looked back at Anastasia with a smirk- “That’s how it’s done.” I looked back slowly- “Get me a wet towel- KYAAH!”

Sweet holy mother of fuck it was pregnant. Tiny babies spread out frantically from under the book, and I shot my hand back in disgust. I backpedaled, almost knocking Annie over in my sheer freak-out.

“... Is that?” Anastasia asked warily, the two of us staring wide-eyed as little spiders ran all around the writing desk, spilling over onto the floor. One spider- I could handle it, no problem… but this many?

“HONEYYYY!”
“MOMMYYYY!!!”

This chilly morning, Celestia walked slowly down the halls of her Villa. Her mane hung around her head in messy strands, being similar in color to the pink bathrobe she wore; her magic aura held a teacup and a piece of paper… on which was perched a light blue spider with a frowny-face on its abdomen, posturing at the princess and frozen in fear as it tried to convince Celestia to run.

“Almost outside, little one.” She muttered to herself, letting herself out onto her front porch. She calmly walked it over to a nearby cluster of bushes. “Have your babies here, instead.” Tilting the paper, the spider slid off daintily onto the grass, retreating into the safety of the bush to have its children.

Staring out at the forested treeline, she took a long sip of her tea and sighed. If the business-ponies couldn’t be trusted like Leona seems to think, she wanted to hear the proof herself. “Haven’t had a busy day in a while…” She muttered to herself.

Sitting in the dream-version of the Canterlot statue gardens was… interesting. Having seen that Equestrian treasure as it evolved over the years, things were constantly changing; the very borders of the garden will shrink and expand as the different eras blink by in an instant. Statues appear and disappear, for instance- occasionally, Celestia will realize that Discord doesn’t have a statue there anymore, and it’ll disappear from the dream. She wasn’t scatterbrained, by any means- but once again, I chalked it up to a consequence of age.

“So anyways, that was my dumpster fire of a morning.” I said, going along with Celestia’s giggling. I gave her a barebones play-by-play, never bothering to go into any of the details. “I gotta know- how’d it go?” I was sitting on the edge of my sofa, my arms leaning into my knees. We were both in our human forms, and she rolled her eyes.

“Always, so… down to business!” She laughed, kicking her feet back on a recliner. “As it happens… after what I’ve learned today?” Her laugh ceased with a deep inhalation, turning to look me in the eye with a serious expression. “Let’s talk about your letter- specifically about your… methods to obtain funding.” I pursed my lips, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t like it when my ponies get hurt, Leona.”

We stared at each other in dead silence for a moment before I spoke up- “This conversation is… long overdue.” I looked her in the eye and said- “I threatened a lot of your ponies- but I never hurt any of them… that didn’t hurt me first.” lying was so easy, I could do it in my sleep. “The mere threat of physical harm coerced several pony business owners to pay tribute to the griffon-led crime families I took over.” She glared at me seriously until her look softened, drifting towards the ground.

“Maybe I believe you… but what troubles me most…” She rubbed her temples in frustration. “Why…ah, so were the police all paid off?” She grumbled, and I nodded my head. “I don’t understand…” She muttered, and I shrugged.

“Can… there’s something Starlight said when she and I were talking about this subject. It… it really stuck with me.” She raised her eyebrow questioningly, and I rested my cheek on my palm. “She said, and I’m paraphrasing- Because internally, ponies think that Celestia will ‘save’ them if necessary. That’s why the middle class has been so complacent to their blatant erosion- internally they think that if Celestia hasn’t stopped them, then it must be for a reason. Or something like that.”

She tilted her head back, steepling her hands in thought. “I remember hearing about a patient who, upon waking up from surgery, had exclaimed- thank Celestia!” We both shared a faint chuckle. “So perhaps there is merit to that theory.” We sat there in silence, Celestia focusing on a particular cluster of statues in thought.

“For what it’s worth, I’m… sorry. I…” I wanted to say something to excuse myself… but I really couldn’t.

“You’ve been better to have as a friend than as an enemy thus far. Be grateful of that fact.” She had a faint smirk- and I gave her a wide grin.

“Ooohhh, was that an implied threat veiled behind an endearing compliment?” I spoke in a teasing voice, and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, it definitely was.” She reached over and tugged on my cheek, causing me to swat at her arm. “I’ve been thinking- if you are to stand any chance against the dragons, as coordinated of an effort as possible will be warranted… from all parties of the world.” I went from feeling petulant and annoyed to full-attention, leaning in my chair. “Your idea of a political summit of the Civilized World aligns well with this thought.”

“Even if all I get out of it is that the world governments leave me the fuck alone, I’ll be happy.” I grumbled, “If I can just focus on the dragons, you know?” Celestia just shrugged playfully.

“The point I want to get to is, that you already come from a world that’s familiar with the societal changes we’re going through in this age… and I think I know how we can open a dialogue on that.” I glanced to the side in thought as she spoke, “The… ideas propagated by these… robber-barons are a little concerning to me.” I couldn’t help but smirk.

“So you were listening while I rambled about the gilded age!” I laughed and asked- “So, I take it this summit ties in with what went down last night?” She smirked and nodded. “Spill it. What’d you have in mind?”

She just looked at me with a wide, knowing grin and a cocked eyebrow. I was confused, until her gaze went up and down my body… my human body.

I leaned back and huffed. “You’re serious?” I leaned back, steepling my hands with a look of concern. “You… you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Either it proceeds how I want it to… or no summit. Your choice.” I looked at her apprehensively, while she gave me a smug grin.

Shit. Was I really gonna do that?

Rain Shine, High-Priestess of the southern blue-flame kirin’s and Interpreter of Cthugha’s Will… felt healthier than she ever had… since that nasty fall. The smell of incense within her Temple’s Prayer Sanctum soothed her senses- the leaves she chewed numbed her mouth, woke her heartbeat, and allowed her thoughts to pierce through the fog of healing pains.

“When Cthugha sent you to us those ninety-eight sun cycles ago, it couldn’t have been at a better time. I would like to thank you, Grogarit.” She gave him a wide grin from the cushion she sat on, illuminated by blue torchlight. “Friend of the Kirin. We owe you much gratitude- allow us to accept you as a brother.”

Grogarit looked up- her teal-blue mane was only marred by the patch, created by the soft-spot in her skull where the spirit was banished. “I accept graciously, High Priestess.” He spoke respectfully- calmly awaiting permission to speak further.

“You spared me, friend. One day, I will join Cthugha as a being of ecstasy and fire, as all my tribesfolk do when the time is right. Our one mortal enemy is death- and you refuse Her acquaintance by your very nature. Tell me more.” She turned to spit the chewed leaves into a clay bowl, replacing them with fresh ones as she awaited an explanation.

“It is as you say- I am an enemy of death. Death would imply a state of universal permanence in an existence where nothing in existence can be considered truly ‘permanent.’” He had a smug grin as he spoke- “I once ruled a mighty empire using an army of fallen soldiers; six ignorant warriors… got the better of me. They banished me to the ice- where I’ve been frozen until your people rescued me.”

The Priestess’ chewing… stopped. “There are… other tribes of Kirin. Ones who do not follow the enlightened teachings of Cthugha. They refuse Their fiery embrace, preferring the cold nothingness of death.” Grogarit… smiled wide. The priestess looked down at him, tapping the spot on the floor next to her with a hoof. “Sit with me.”

They sat next to each other, and Rain Shine put a hoof around his shoulder. “You wish to practice your craft without persecution. I wish to spread the word of Great Cthugha.”

It was no secret that their castles and temples were old and crumbling- the Kirin empires had been in sharp decline for centuries due to political infighting, leading to the petty tribalism so rampant today. “A new kirin empire, under Cthugha…” she whispered to herself, staring at the blue-fire torch on the wall. “You may speak freely. You don’t need my permission.”

“Thank you, High Priestess.” But she just giggled in response.

“Please- call me Shiny.” She looked down at him with a smirk, and he looked up at her with a similar smile.

He stuck his hoof up for a bump- “My friends call me Grogar. A pleasure.”

A single hoof bump, and the course of history on the southern continent was… about to get interesting.

Author's Note

As usual, a link to the Discord chat :3

Likes and comments are always greatly appreciated! Especially as the plot begins to tangle and thicken, I'm always dying to know what yinz are thinking :P

Anyways... Thanks so much for reading! It truly means a lot to me to have people that are genuinely excited when I post a big chapter; I hope that the political nonsense isn't eye-wateringly boring :p

In some aspects, this story is about showing some of the less-overt things fascists do to rise to power, so someone who may not be in-the-know might draw parallels to things that happen in our real, modern world. The populism, the fervor, all the cozying up with leftists to hide your true intentions- are some of the many tactics fascists use to rise to power. But it's not meant to be a soapbox, either- I'm pretty self aware in that regard, and despite some of the directness of my jokes (Oil and big auto execs wanting less public transport and more car-dependent infrastructure... sound familiar?), I try and take necessarily serious things... seriously.

I'm not a fascist sympathizer- I just believe the general public needs more information about how inhuman acts come from human institutions... not that I'm an expert myself, nor do I... eh, YA GET THE POINT! And if I'm gonna soapbox, it's this- the United States won a major fight in the war against fascism when a certain ex-president was deemed to be a multiple-count felon by a jury of BRAVE American citizens.

I can't tell you who to vote for. But in our world where we're dominated by monopolistic tech giants, our tastes are controlled by soulless algorithms, our blood is full of microplastics, corporations a faceless, tangled web of monopolies, where one puppet company is always controlled by another; collective bargaining got quietly smothered with a pillow, wages stagnating, the government serving the corporations all while our planet slowly burns on a fuse where we won't see the end until it's too late...

Whatever candidate that's slated to make things the lowest amount of "completely fucked" can be... won't be associated with the republican party, I'll tell you that for fuckin' free...

These are just my opinions. Please don't start a war in the comments- but I felt the need to make my stance clear. If you have an issue with that, my comments aren't the place to duke it out :p

And of course, most of that mainly applied to my fellow American audience- If you're not from the United States, enjoy watching the slow collapse of the modern Roman Republic from whatever country you're from :p

If you read all that nonsense... thank u :3

Ok, so basically- what's the plan?