The Twilight Prince: Redux

Chapters

Chapter 1: An Inauspicious Letter
Chapter 2: Pride and Cowardice
Chapter 3: A Difficult Morning
Chapter 5: Escalation
Chapter 6: Truths and Deceptions
Prologue
Chapter 4: Revelations

Chapter 1: An Inauspicious Letter

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

It deeply saddens me that what your request is something I cannot ever grant. The spell that you request does not exist, not even in my private library. Even if it did, I would not give you access to it.

As I have taught you, magic is dangerous. And some magic is more dangerous than others. Entire fields of magic have been deemed as 'Dark' due to how their very use warps and twists their caster, yet more have been deemed 'Grey' for fear of how they could be misused. I am not exaggerating when I state that – despite 'only' falling into the latter category – the spell that you have requested is the most dangerous that I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. That very spell has represented an existential threat to ponykind in the past and would do so again if it were recreated.

As you may know, historically, daughters were viewed as preferable to sons. This was for a variety of reasons, almost all of which unfounded. Unfortunately – early in my sister's and my reign – this preference led our little ponies into doing something very foolish.

They hired mages to change their sons into daughters.

I ask you to remember Clover's Third Law of Thaumaturgy: 'All magic – unless deliberately designed to be temporary – is permanent'. For spells cast upon a living thing – including ponies – 'permanent' is often not limited to the individual, rather becoming heritable to a certain degree. Thus a spell used to turn a stallion into a mare – or a colt into a filly, as was usually the case – will cause the resulting mare – and those descended from her – to be less likely to birth – or sire, in the case of a male descendant – a colt. More importantly, the effect from multiple ancestors affected by such a spell are cumulative.

Unfortunately, both Luna and myself were both very young and naive and we did not recognize the perils of this practice until it was almost too late.

As a result, we had every single example of such a spell expunged from all spellbooks and made both the casting and creation of such a spell incredibly illegal.

Even still, it was only with great difficulty and great suffering that the end of ponykind was adverted. And even with that, the scars still linger; to this day far fewer colts are born than should be.

I hope I do not need to explicitly state that you are forbidden from recreating such a spell, but I will regardless. You WILL NOT recreate such a spell. To do so would be HIGH TREASON, and the fact you were originally a mare WOULD NOT be a defence. Even I would not have the power to protect you.

I trust you Twilight, do not break that trust.

As to your question as to why your spell did this to you: I cannot say. It should be impossible, due to interference from the existing transformational residue, but Starswirl the Bearded was a singular genius; unequalled before or since. He regularly made spells that did the impossible, and he was never in the habit of explaining how his spells worked.

That said, Twilight, I implore you to not dwell on what cannot be changed. I know that you – filly or colt – are the same brilliant young mage that brought wonder to this old mare's heart.

You may find that you enjoy being a stallion.

Your Friend,

Celestia.

p.s. I also hope you know how disastrous abusing temporary polymorph spells would be to the integrity of your psyche after such a significant physical change.

p.p.s. Unlike alicorn mares, alicorn stallions should be able to produce offspring with mortal ponies (in addition to other alicorns). Do with that as you will.

Twilight Sparkle stared unblinking at the letter levitated in front of her as she read the letter for the fifth time. She ignore the strangely familiar buzzing anticipation that lingered in the back of her mind.

“So, um, bad news?” Spoke Spike as he wrung his claws, a nervous tick that Twilight had always found adorable.

Twilight snorted, 'Bad'? More like catastrophic.

Spike must have recognized the emotions on the alicorn's face, “Oh, cheer up Twilight. So what Princess Celestia can't help, you are more than smart enough to fix this on your own.”

“That ...” Twilight couldn't help but flinch at the voice coming out of her mouth. It was deep, smooth, powerful and fundamentally masculine. Objectively, not a bad voice, but it was not her voice, “... is not the problem.” Twilight levitated the letter to Spike.

The wyrmling was silent as he read the Princess' letter, his expression slowly darkening to a scowl, “She can't do this.”

Twilight scoffed, “Of course she can, she's Princess Celestia, Sovereign Princess of Equestria.” It was not her voice, but it was seeming likely that it would be his.

“But what about the Clover Treaty? Isn't magical law supposed to be independent of sovereign law?” The Clover Treaty was the oldest piece of legislation still in force in Equestria – first written shortly after the Unification, approximately 35 centuries ago – it established the Mages' Guild and gave it complete jurisdiction over magical law.

Although the Mages' Guild no longer existed – it, like all other major trade guilds effectively ceased to exist after the Razing of Everfree – Princess Celestia had established the Council of Magi as a successor organization shortly after the Third Founding. A decision that had proven ... controversial to House Twilight – Twilight Sparkle's own family – who believed themselves to be the legitimate successor to the Mages' Guild.

Twilight sighed, “Except in cases where a spell presents an existential threat to Equestria, her ponies or any of her tribes.” Of course, the legal separation of magical law did not mean that ponies couldn't break Equestrian law with magic; assault was assault regardless of whether it was done with force of hoof or horn. Moreover there were a few crimes that could only be done using magic, mindslaving being the most notable.

But, as a rule, spells themselves were not outlawed, only outcomes. After all, even spells, natures and schools of magic named Forbidden by magical law could be used for good; compulsions and geasa were often used to treat mental illness, biomancy had all but eliminated a wide variety of hereditary congenital diseases, and even necromancy was the most effective known way to treat malignant tumours.

“But that's never been used.” Spike protested.

“It's been used at least once, apparently.” The alicorn corrected, gesturing to the letter.

Spike was silent for a moment, “I guess,” he sighed, “I hate it.”

“I don't like it any more than you; quite a bit less I would wager.” Twilight, trotted awkwardly to a table; everything about how the alicorn moved felt wrong, legs too long, muscles too strong, barrel too thick, a deep seated expectation for violence that would not come.

Twilight stared at the small pile of hornwritten notes laying upon the table, the result of a dozen hours worth of preliminary research into creating a spell to restore the alicorn's lost maresculinity. “But ...” 'I trust you Twilight, do not break that trust.' Twilight levitated the assorted notes in front of her face. Notes that could apparently be the catalyst for the extinction of ponykind.

If what Princess Celestia said was correct, then the entire species had been teetering on the edge of extinction for about 2000 years. So close to oblivion, so few even aware; Twilight certainly hadn't been. 'I trust you Twilight, do not break that trust.'

With that in mind, the Princess' demand – while unanticipated, and certainly unwelcome – was not actually unreasonable. Ponies were on the edge of a precipice and all it would only take one little push. 'I trust you Twilight, do not break that trust.'

Twilight stared at the notes and a single tear flowed down a very unmarelike muzzle. 'I trust you Twilight, do not break that trust.' “... I can't betray Princess Celestia.” Suddenly the notes burst into magenta flames, burning away to nothing, not even ash.

The stallion immediately broke down sobbing, sitting down on an unfamiliar rump.

Spike wrapped his arms partway around the much larger male's forelegs, nuzzling his snout against Twilight's neck

No words were spoken for a considerable time as Twilight Sparkle, Equestria's first Alicorn Prince mourned what he had lost.

Celestia stared impassively at the letter before her, only her tail indicating of her agitation.

This ...

... this was not to plan.

What was it with her students and recklessly unearthing secrets better left buried?

And in this, as always, her darling Twilight was a true overachiever.

Of course it was Twilight Sparkle who stumbled upon some long lost spell of Starswirl the Bearded, transforming herself into a stallion in complete disregard of how that should have been impossible!

Even without trying, the young mare had stumbled backwards into – perhaps – the darkest period of Equestrian history.

A period where the very fate of the species hung in the balance.

A period that had taught two young immortals the burden of rule. To make difficult decisions when necessary, to sacrifice the few for the good of the many.

A period that had driven a wedge between two sisters who had formerly been inseparable.

Celestia remembered their subjects' love and adoration change to terror and hatred as ever more draconian and desperate measures were put into place.

Celestia had then learned just ho short the memories of mortals were; her little ponies had all but forgotten what had happened in shockingly little time, and it was trivial for Celestia to burn or rewrite every book that had ever mentioned the unfortunate period. An action that – regardless of how much Luna decried it – was ultimately necessary.

Not for the first time Celestia found herself envying mortals; she would never forget what had happened, she could never forget.

Celestia remembered her many fruitless attempts to drown the pain in drink, feasts and an unending series of enthusiastic young studs. Her vices had dulled the pain, but they had slowly taken over her life, leaving Luna increasingly alone in the less glamorous parts of ruling.

Once again, Celestia was grateful that she had discovered a way to break the iron hold that such grief and vice had once held on her heart. A method that had once again come useful to tame the nightmare that was a young Twilight Sparkle.

Luna had coped in a very different way. The night princess had thrown herself fully into work – her duties and her art –as if she couldn't stand a single idle moment to think.

And much like Celestia, the lunar princess escalated in her coping mechanisms. When her existing duties had failed to occupy her enough she waded into the nightmare that was the Equestrian bureaucracy to conduct a series of audits. Replacing favoured daughters of noble houses with nameless commoners because they had been 'misappropriating' funds or some other banal charge of corruption.

It did not win Luna any friends in the nobility.

And then Luna delved into the intricacies of the law. A subject that she had originally found 'dreadfully boring', and had left Celestia to handle. Not that there was much to handle, most of the laws were holdovers of the prior Republic of Equestria – written in books that had been painstakingly protected from the deprivations of Discord – and most of the rest were written by the nobility.

Celestia still remembered those awful mornings where Luna would appear, outraged at some ancient law and the hungover sun princess would need to explain that all the 'oversights' and 'loopholes' that Luna had found existed for reasons. That they were the price for the support of the Noble Houses.

Unfortunately, Luna had never understood the importance that compromise served in politics.

And then there was the political nightmare that would follow as Luna would try to force reformations of Equestria's many governing bodies; only for one noble house or another to kill it before it even got of the ground, exactly what Celestia had told her would happen.

And then Luna would storm off in a huff, leaving Celestia to smooth things over with the aggrieved noble house. A process that all too often required concessions on the behalf of the Crown.

Celestia sighed, perhaps her sister had listened and learned all the wrong lessons; much of the Nightmare's early propaganda had focused on how much the 'decadent nobility' and their 'degenerate princess' 'abused' and 'manipulated' the Equestrian legal framework to get away with things illegal for the common pony.

The sun princess shook her head and looked down to the letter before her. As much as it pained Celestia to deny Twilight's request, it was imperative that such a spell never see the light of day again. Ponykind was – even two thousand years later – still teetering on the edge of extinction. And, quite frankly the continuation of the species was simply more important than any one pony being the 'right' sex.

The solar princess looked at the series of photographs – Celestia was always proud of her little ponies' inventiveness – that the younger royal had taken of herself. It was undeniable that the newly made stallion was outright ravishing, the kind of beauty that had motivated ancient queens to war. Celestia knew that her younger self would have been utterly captivated with the young alicorn, drooling – literally, metaphorically and euphemistically – at the prospect of being with him.

Celestia was, once again, glad that she had moved past such base urges.

In all honestly, the elder princess had not been entirely forthcoming with Twilight, she did have a single idea of what – or rather who – could have caused her student's transformation.

The solar princess took out a single golden coin – actually composed of fool's gold because someone found that funny – and flipped it.

Tails, Celestia grimaced at the impression of a certain Spirit's hindquarters; it was a rather rude image, even if he lacked most of the anatomy that would make it lewd. Getting tails on the flip essentially guaranteed that what came next would be uncomfortable.

True to form, only a few moments passed until Celestia felt a pressure deep in her left ear canal.

For several moments the pressure grew before something burst from her ear with a horrible squelching pop.

“Discord.” Celestia spoke unamused, not even sparing a glance at whatever asinine visual gag the troublesome draconequus had set up.

A weight settled onto the princess' back and a familiar face slithered into her field of view and around her horn. “Oh, Celly, my love. How you must have missed me to call me back so suddenly? To tug on my shackles, so?”

Celestia lifted the coin in a hoof, “If you find your 'shackles' so unsatisfactory, there is always another option. I do miss my statue.”

Discord snorted, “You did not call me here to threaten me. I am far too valuable to you to be petrified again.”

“No, I did not. But after your method of arrival, perhaps I am reconsidering.”

Discord slid off the alicorn's back and slithered around to face Celestia snout to muzzle, “Then do it. Send a letter to Twilight and her friends about how you need to them to repetrify me because I offended your delicate little feelings.”

Celestia stared blankly at Discord, forgetting to emote. This was not how the draconequus was expected to react.

It took all of Discord's incredible mental fortitude to not flinch. He was reminded of the future Twilight, whose placid royal facade had broken several times to reveal the underlying rage. But instead of anger or hurt hiding underneath there was simply nothing.

Oh, Celestia what did you do to yourself? Discord pretended to examine his talon dismissively, letting none of his inner turmoil show, “What do you want, Celestia?”

Celestia flinched in surprise before refocusing on him and speaking as if she hadn't just ... lapsed “Where were you these last few weeks?”

“Oh, just contemplating my place in the universe.” Discord made a dismissive gesture with his talon.

Celestia's eyes narrowed in suspicion, “Where?”

Discord examined the princess for a second, there was something ever so slightly wrong in her expression, like she was imitating an emotion without quite understanding what it meant. “Your old castle at Everfree, as a matter of fact.” He paused, “Why? What happened in my absence? What are you trying to pin on me?”

“Why would you assume I'm trying to 'pin' something on you? Maybe because you're guilty of something?”

Discord snorted, “Nice try Princess. There are only two reasons why you would summon me: one, you want me to do something and two, you think I did something. In the former case you wouldn't be so interested in what I have been occupying my time wit.”

Celestia grit her teeth, “So, you're denying doing anything to Twilight?”

“I haven't seen her in weeks. Why? How's Twiggles doing?”

Celestia's expression froze for a second before her eyes narrowed, “Where did you hear that name?”

“Oh, the little birdies told me.” Discord smirked.

“Where did you hear that name?!”

Discord rolled his eyes, “Do you have any idea how many ponies went to school with her? Oh, the stories they tell about 'Princess Celestia's faithful student'. It will be a good hundred years till you'll be able to write that out of history.” Discord made a meaningful look at the Princess, well aware of her censorial tendencies, “I swear, that filly was my spirit animal. A shame you had to go and make her so boring.”

“Twilight comes from a difficult family, they have been an unreasonable and contrary element for the last thousand years. ”Celestia sighed, “And her mother is even worse; she is one of the singularly most unpleasant individuals I have ever had the misfortune of meeting.”

“Hmmm, sounds so exciting; I would love to know more.”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

“But it's such a bore. Twilight went and did something ... antisocial – again – and you can't possibly bring yourself to believe she's at fault – despite past history – and have decided to use me as your scapegoat.”

Celestia made a facsimile of a glare.

“Let me guess, little Twiggles once more went and cast some Forbidden Grey Magic on some poor helpless civilian.” Discord faked a yawn before glancing at his wrist, “Oh, look at the time, unless you have something important to discuss, I've got to get going.”

“Fine,” Celestia pulled out one of the photos – one of the few that wasn't outright scandalous – and placed it on the table before her. Celestia hoped that one of her student's friends – probably Rarity – would point out that camera angles that would be innocuous on a mare were most certainly not on a stallion.

Discord took a deep look at the alicorn stallion with very familiar colours, and although the picture did not show the stallion's emblem, Discord would bet that it would be just as familiar, “Fascinating. So Twiggles finally got tired of being a kissless virgin and summoned herself from a timeline where she was born a stallion. You have explained to her that extradimensional versions of herself still count as incest, right?”

Celestia rolled her eyes, “Guess again.”

“Oh, she cloned herself as a stallion?”

“No.”

“Long lost evil twin?”

Celestia sighed, “That is Twilight.”

“Oh, an unconventional solution, and one that neatly sidesteps the incest problem. I like it.”

“It wasn't intentional, in fact, the spell she cast shouldn't have been able transform her like this.”

“And you think I tampered with her spellcasting?” Discord scoffed, “Give me some credit Celestia, I'm not suicidal. Friend or not, I refuse to be within a hundred miles of Twilight when she's casting experimental spells. I'm offended that you would ever think I would ever interfere with one of her spells, I don't want to find myself shattered across a thousand different universes; after all, I don't even have a plucky young apprentice to put me together again.”

“So, you're saying that you had no part in Twilight's situation?”

“That's what I've been trying to tell you for the last five minutes. No, I did not turn Twilight into a stallion, nor did I interfere in any way in her spellcasting.”

“If I find out you lied to me, I will be very displeased.”

“You won't, Celly.” Discord paused, “Oh, before I go, I found a rather less than useful mirror with a rather interesting inscription in the ruins. Any idea what that's about?” The draconequus felt no need to tell the alicorn of his visions, but he was curious why the mirror had been left in the castle.

Celestia sighed, “I had forgotten about the Mirror of Etaf. In the last days of Everfree, shortly before Luna fell to the Nightmare, the Artificer's Guild had some rather strange ideas. That mirror was just one of many tragedies of that period, it was to be the first of their 'subscription artifacts', powerful artifacts that would only work for ponies who paid for the privilege. Unfortunately, the mirror's creator, Sharp Foresight, died shortly after finishing it, and never transferred authority to the guild. Myself and Luna got to each scry the future three times before it was rendered useless.” Celestia shook her head, “The magnum opus of one of Equestria's brightest ponies as worthless as a rock due to greed and paranoia.”

Discord remained silent, letting the princess speak.

“If the mirror hadn't been exhausted, if I didn't waste the three scryings I did have, maybe I could have saved my sister.” The grief on Celestia's face was distant and subdued, but it was the first authentic emotion the mare had shown in the meeting.

Discord stared for a second before speaking softly, “It doesn't work like that.”

Celestia paused and looked to Discord in askance.

“Knowing that a future is coming does not necessarily give you the ability to change it. Often, quite the opposite, as the actions you take attempting to change the future may end up causing that future instead. I know that from experience.”

Celestia paused, giving that same blank look.

“Oh, and Celestia, do not dwell on what could have been done differently. It does no good to sacrifice the future for a past that will never be.”

Celestia still didn't respond, her expression still that unnerving blank look.

“Well, Celly, good talk,” Discord patted the mare on her withers, “But I have some highly important brooding to get to, so toodles.” The draconequus snapped his talon, liquefied and flowed into a nearby drain.

Celestia stared at the brand new drain in the centre of her sitting room, perhaps she should send a letter to Twilight about that useless mirror, her former student could certainly use something to distract from the current difficulties.

On second thought perhaps she should wait a bit, Twilight was likely going to be busy with the upcoming heat season. Perhaps Celestia should see about getting a studding license expedited for the newly minted stallion.

Twilight brought a hoof to his muzzle and wiped his tears away with his fetlock. “Thank you, Spike.”

The wyrmling pulled back.

Twilight flopped onto his back and groaned, “What do I do now, Spike?” Twilight was lost, his every waking hour since the transformation had been consumed with attempting to reverse it, to return his lost maresculinity. And now that that had been denied ... well, he had no idea what to do.

Spike blushed, covering his face and adverted his eyes, “Twilight.” he protested.

“What is it Spike?” the stallion asked before looking down, he was so incredibly exposed. The newly made stallion blushed incandescently as he futilely attempted to cover his shame with his tail.

The stallion rolled upright, ignoring the cold of the floor on his nethers, he looked away from his adoptive son/brother.

There was a brief pause before Spike hugged the stallion again, “You'll figure it out, you always do.”

Twilight channelled what little bravado he had, “It is only the second largest physical change I've been through.” It was true, as much as many trivialized Twilight's ascension to alicornhood as merely growing a pair of wings, it was actually a fundamental change to her deepest nature. A change that the alicorn still didn't understand. Alicorns were not – as often believed – merely a combination of the best features of the three most populous tribes, but were rather something entirely more than any mortal pony.

It was also significantly less instant a transformation than was public knowledge. The wings might have come in instantly, but ... well, Twilight winced as he remembered the months of passing her entire skeleton as kidney stones and calcified faeces as the calcium in her bones were gradually replaced with alicorn purer than even a unicorn's horn.

And the less said about the unique experience that is having one's internal organs reconfigure themselves into something completely alien to moral ponies, the better.

Twilight still didn't know what even half of his new organs even did, despite a considerable amount of study. Something that neither Celestia nor Luna were particularly helpful with.

From an objective point of view, a mere change of sex was outright minor in comparison. Even better, the transformation was complete, total and finished. There would be no weeks of gradual change, this time.

That said, none of that made the alicorn any happier to be a stallion.

While Twilight had never been the most maresculine of mares, especially compared to the likes of Rainbow Dash and Applejack, she had been secure and comfortable in her marehood.

Twilight didn't want to be a stallion, she had been happy as a mare.

But it seemed that his preference had no bearing on such things. Twilight was now a stallion, and he would have to deal with that.

The alicorn prince lifted his head and did a quick glance around the room, the largest of the seven libraries in the recently grown Castle of Friendship, his eyes skimming over his personal banner – his cutie mark on a field of lavender – and one representing the elements of harmony – bearing the familiar charge containing the six coloured gems set in gold –and catching on the somewhat more obscure three six pointed stars of House Twilight.

The three stars of magenta, gold and silver – representing the three most common alignments of unicorn magic: arcane, solar and lunar – were set on a per chevron of azure and sanguine –representing the Pillar of Twilight, the mountain that was both the ancestral home of the Twilights and whence their name originated –it did not take an expert to recognize the banner as from a house that held magic in high regard. Although few would recognize the banner as belonging to House Twilight.

While House Twilight was far from a minor house, they were not well known, particularly among the common folk of Equestria. And among the nobility, they weren't well liked either, viewed as a strange hostile 'barbaric' house, a reputation that wasn't entirely unearned.

Canterlot had been built on Twilight land, but the city didn't fall under Twilight rule, as its land had been leased indefinitely to the Crown. As a result, House Twilight did not have much of a fiefdom. Outside the Twilight Manor itself – and 'manor' was a bit of a misnomer as it was more akin to a small city built into the mountain – only a handful of Canterlot's outer districts – the city had outgrown its original limits – and a dozen or so small villages at the mountain's base called House Twilight their liege.

Of course, despite lacking much of the traditional noble house's revenue stream the Twilights were hardly poor. They had many alternative streams of income. But with so few commoner subjects, it was hardly surprising that House Twilight was nearly unknown.

The banner was flown out of utility rather than any sense of loyalty or filial obligation. Twilight did not see eye to eye with his birth house, his family, and that had been the case since shortly after the young filly had started her apprenticeship under the Princess.

That said, there was absolutely nothing to gain by publicly airing such grievances, so Twilight flew as many banners expected of a proud royal of noble stock, and House Twilight added a crown to their banner as if they were proud that their 'heir presumptive' had ascended to alicorn nobility.

The last thing Twilight wanted was some manipulative bitch of a noblemare recognizing the schism and using it to attempt to weaponize Twilight against his birth house.

And there was always somepony willing to try. With the Twilights being as scorned as they are, probably several ponies.

Of course, it would end poorly for her, it always did. House Twilight was not trifled with lightly, and such an open antagonism would not be answered merely by an entry into the Book of Grudges.

Yeah, House Twilight had a Book of Grudges, it was over thirty volumes long, What kind of ponies even do that?

Oh, right, the kind of ponies who go and opt out of being herd herbivores to become pack predators. The kind of ponies that bespell, breed and train themselves for war, even in times of peace.

He hated his family.

Twilight sighed, and he hated politics more.

Somehow, he didn't think that becoming a stallion would help. In all honestly, the alicorn had no idea how the nobility would respond, but he was certain it would be unpleasant in several different ways.

Just another mess of problems that he couldn't possibly plan for.

Twilight shook his head and levitated a single sheet of paper, the only of his notes to have survived incineration. It was the sum total of everything the alicorn had about why his most recent transformation had even happened.

It was entirely conjecture and barely filled a page halfway.

“Why am I even a stallion?”

“Maybe you miscast the spell?”

Twilight rolled his eyes, “Of course I miscast the spell, but that doesn't explain it. A miscast fireball doesn't turn a pony into a potted plant, it just explodes in a way the caster didn't intend. The effect of a miscast spell are always of a similar kind to the intended effects, just less controlled. Pyromancy still creates fire, telekinesis still creates force, it just doesn't make sense that this spell could have caused this effect.”

Twilight paused, “This spell was an auramancy spell, the metamagical school concerning the direct manipulation of existing magic, there is absolutely no way that a spell designed to cycle the magic in my ley lines and expel impurities could possibly have been responsible for my transformation.”

“And yet it is?”

“And yet it is.” he sighed, “'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, is the truth'.”

“Is it possible that the spell somehow caused a different spell to transform you?”

“Is it possible for an auramancy spell to activate another existing but dormant spell? Absolutely. Is that what happened here? Absolutely not. There simply was no latent mare-to-stallion transformation spell for the spell to activate. Quite the opposite, in fact, according to Princess Celestia.” And wasn't that a revelation, that stallions are so rare because of the lingering affects of spells cast two thousand years ago. That was a case of magical misuse that was terrifying in its scale. No wonder biomancy is considered Forbidden by the Council of Magi, as opposed to the merely Prohibited that House Twilight declared the school.

Spike looked puzzled for a few seconds before brightening in realization, “Oh I know, what if the spell somehow ... inverted ... the existing magic?”

Twilight bit back a scathing remark as he sighed and looked at the wyrmling in askance, “Spike, you can't 'invert the polarity on the thaumic streams'; this is real life, not one of your comic books.

Magic, simply, does not work like that, 'magic cannot act contrary to its nature'. A spell designed to transform a stallion into a mare cannot be altered in such a way to do the opposite, at least, not after it has been cast. Even more, the thaumic residue from such a spell would interfere with the use of any new spells acting contrary to its purpose; any new spell to transform mares into stallions would have to be designed to account for such residue, something that is extremely difficult to do even if you know the complete extent of that residue.” Twilight paused, “Which I do not, and I have no way of discovering it without a control to compare modern stallions to. Something I do not have, as this residue has apparently been endemic to the pony species for something like two thousand years.”

“Oh.”

“Honestly not only do I have no idea how this spell did what it did, I don't know how any spell could have possibly done this, not with the enormous amount of contrary residue. Nothing short of an outright disjunction would be required for such a smooth transformation.” Twilight's tone left no question as how absurd he considered that. “And considering I didn't explode with enough yield to vaporize Ponyville and most of the Everfree Forest I think it's safe to rule out that particular magic.”

“Disjunction?” Spike asked with concern.

Oh, right, Twilight often forgot that Spike didn't have a formal arcane education. Disjunction was rarely mentioned outside of cautionary tales in magical safety classes and strict hypotheticals in magic theory classes, and there wasn't much point in a dragon taking either of those. “A disjunction is, well, anti-magic. A spell designed to unweave the very threads of magic. They are known to be almost impossible to cast, as the spell constantly tries to rip itself apart as you are casting it, usually resulting in the spell blowing up in the caster's face.” Twilight grimaced, “And that's the better outcome, because in the few known examples of somepony actually successfully casting a disjunction, the spell proved to be rather indiscriminate, freely unweaving whatever magic was near the caster – starting with the caster herself – in the few microseconds the spell lasted before it ripped itself asunder. And well ...” Twilight paused, “... there are few living things that can survive having their innate magic unwoven, and fewer still that could survive the raw wild magic released by such an event.”

Spike was horrified, “Why would anypony do such a thing?”

“Because it's disjunction, do you have any idea what could be done if you were able to controllably unweave existing magic?”

“Uh, no.”

“You could undo just about any magic at will. Unweave millennia old curses, shatter the spells of adversaries, destroy otherwise indestructible dark artifacts. Even a less controlled – but still coherent – disjunction would be a horrifically deadly combat spell, shattering all magical protection and explosively ripping the target's own magic apart. Add to that, a competent mage could even use the power from unweaved magic to power her own spells, letting even a rather weak unicorn match spells with an alicorn as strong as ... well, me. Albeit, only for about an hour before the excess power causes her ley lines to burn out or her horn to shatter.” The alicorn shrugged his wings, “But, well, ponies researching disjunction are not well known for having a strong sense of self preservation.”

Spike stared in horror.

“But well, if you want a good example of the kinds of things a stable disjunction could do, think of the Elements of Harmony, but cast at will by a single unicorn without any of the many Virtue Magic related restrictions.” The stallion paused, “Although there is good evidence that the only reason they even work in the first place is because of those restrictions.”

“The Elements of Harmony!?”

“Yes, Spike, the Elements of Harmony. They are the only known thing capable of casting a coherent disjunction. Honestly, without the Elements, we probably wouldn't even know disjunction was even in the realm of possibilities.”

“So, the Elements could have just exploded you and the girls!?”

“Of course not Spike,” Twilight dismissively waved a hoof, “That would have killed us, the Elements of Harmony can't kill ponies, or even permanently harm them.”

“Uh, huh.” Spike said dubiously, eyeing the stallion as if he was about to explode.

“Oh, don't be a drama queen, Spike.” Twilight rolled his eyes, “I'm not going to explode.” He sighed, “So, ruling out a disjunction, we're left with ...” Twilight scanned his extremely anemic notes.

“Ruling out? What about the Elements of Harmony?”

Oh, right, he hadn't explained his reasoning for excluding the Elements. “The Elements are capable of doing many things that are otherwise impossible, but they are not subtle. If the spell had somehow invoked the Elements of Harmony, it would have been incredibly obvious, and my divinations didn't find even a hint of Virtue Magic.” Twilight paused, “Anyways, as I said, Virtue Magic is far more restricted than other forms of magic. There is nothing virtuous or harmonious about me suddenly being a stallion.”

“Oh.”

“So, ruling out a disjunction, we're left with ...” Twilight paused and stared at his notes, growing more agitated, that hideous anticipation ebbing in crescendo as the stallion lost what little remained of his hold on rationality.

Spike looked at the stallion in concern, “Twilight, are you ok ...”

“... absolutely bucking nothing!” Twilight snarled as he glared at the notes, his magical aura growing in strength.

The notes exploded.

Spike winced and dove for cover, it had been a long time since Twilight had lost control like this, but he hadn't forgotten what to do.

Twilight exploded, the solid crystal floor beneath him cratered, the nearby tables and chairs were launched to shatter against the walls as books were sent flying everywhere.

And in the middle of the devastation floated Twilight Sparkle, his coat stark white and his mane a burning inferno as the stallion's long forgotten heritage of a long lost tribe made itself apparent in its trademark incendiary way. “IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. IT BETRAYS ALL LOGIC. THERE IS NO POSSIBLE WAY FOR THIS TO HAVE HAPPENED. WHY? HOW? IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!!!!”

Spike remained silent as his adopted sibling/parent figure as he vented his not inconsiderable rage at the world in an increasingly incoherent rant. Although the stallion refused to say a word against his former mentor – even in his incandescent rage – it was clear that her refusal had deeply hurt the alicorn.

Discord sat pensively in the ruined throneroom of the Everfree Castle. His throne was clearly incongruous with the surroundings, being composed entirely of living balloon animals, squirming and writhing beneath him. But considering that the original throne was conspicuously missing – the draconequus had visions of one feuding sister lifting it telekinetically and launching it at the other – he felt it was a reasonable replacement.

The draconequus was disquieted; while it had always been obvious that Celestia had greatly changed since he first met her, he had always assumed that it was merely the result of maturing over the many years that had passed hence. So much time had passed and she had been ever so young, not even the Great Esteemed Himself was immune to such wages of time, as testified by the embarrassing amount of introspection he had been doing recently.

But it was clear that that was not the case. Something had happened to the mare, or rather – if the evil flutterpony in the visions of the future had been telling the truth – Celestia had done something to herself. Something that would have caused her to drop dead in a distressingly mortal manner just a few years in the future. Something she had also made young Twilight do to herself.

The Spirit of Chaos drummed his talons as he stared at the five limbed, abstract representation of the Tree of Harmony that had once held the inert stone forms of the five sundered Elements of Harmony.

It was why he was here. Where it happened.

No, he was not referring to six courageous young mares freeing the lunar princess from the Nightmare, although that also had happened here.

No, he was thinking of the final confrontation of a bitter war of five years, sister against sister, Bearer against Bearer.

His imprisonment had given the draconequus a unique perspective of the entire conflict.

In retrospect, the conflict had been brewing for decades – perhaps even centuries – before blades had first been drawn. It had started with hushed whispers spoken between young noble spawn; Luna had apparently attempted some reforms that had turned out to be less than popular. At least amongst the populace of the wealthiest district of the nation's capital, the stationary nature of his imprisonment meant he was never able to get an adequate sample of the general population.

Then as time went on, those voices got bolder, their words got harsher. It wasn't long before there were ponies publicly denouncing the lunar princess and calling for her abdication. Discord hadn't understood at the time how ponies could get away with slandering a reigning Sovereign Princess like that; honestly he still didn't.

Then, suddenly, the town crier of twenty years was replaced with a mare dressed muzzle to tail in the Gaudy gilded suns of the Celestine Cult. The cultist decrying how the 'Terrible Nightmare' had showed her 'true colours', 'turned against the good ponies of Equestria' and 'betrayed her rightful Princess'.

The next months were full of triumphant announcements of 'glorious victory' against the 'cowardly traitors' by that same mare.

However, it didn't take long for Discord to notice that the numbers were not adding up. By six months into the war the official casualty figures had the Nightmare's entire estimated force annihilated thrice over, with almost negligible Loyalist casualties, and the disparity only grew from there.

Then the war wounded came back, mares of broken bodies or shattered minds.

They spoke of a different war.

Of endless night ambushes and supply raids, leaving Equestria's loyal soldiers without rest or food.

Of incompetent leadership arrogantly waltzing into improbable losses against much inferior forces.

Of resolute enemies who would remain unbreaking even in the face of complete annihilation, certain that their sacrifice would be smiled upon by their traitor Queen.

Of a strange daemonic tribe of ponies, with 'wings of bat and eyes of cat, fangs of snake and rage of drake'. The Nightmare's elite, able to fight with the ferocity of ten mares and turn the minds of good ponies against themselves.

Of the Nightmare herself, whose very appearance on the battlefield would turn a certain victory for the loyalists into a crushing defeat as she fought – horn and wing and hoof – with skill and power unmatched by any mortal pony.

Of Princess Celestia, who would likewise turn a minor defeat into a Pyrrhic victory as her uncontrolled nirik sunfire burned through friend and foe alike.

By the third year of the conflict, it became obvious to anyone who listened that not only were the loyalists loosing, they were loosing badly.

Five of Equestria's seventeen great duchies had raised banners against Celestia, another eleven had lost portions of their lands to active insurgent presences. Only the Royal Duchy of Everfree remained entirely in Equestrian control.

Equestrian soldiers across the nation were deserting and turning to banditry.

Celestia had met the Nightmare spell to spell; the sisters fought for three days and three nights while Canterlot – a city of 600 000, for which the modern capital was named – burned, until not even ruins remained.

The Second Equestrian Army – the greatest single force in the history of the Principality raised by the 'great' Commander Zephyr, Heir Apparent of House Hurricane, to be the hammer that would crush the rebellion – had outright disappeared after a humiliating defeat had cost them nearly one mare in four.

Loyal nobles across the Principality were dying or vanishing in increasing numbers, their replacement invariably being more friendly to the rebels.

Meanwhile in Everfree, the Celestine Cult had used the war to seize an immense amount of power, the bad news from the war was only matched by the brutality of the Celestines in suppressing it. The sun princess' cult arrested anypony who didn't echo their own narrative on the war – which still remained an increasingly impossible series of heroic victories – for treason.

That narrative, of course, had completely shattered when the Nightmare marched into the City of Everfree with an army of her Lunatic Cultists, completely crushing what was left of the loyalist garrison.

Honestly, Discord did not blame Celestia for being desperate enough to use the Elements. The situation was dire.

Nonetheless, it had been a terrible mistake. The Elements were not meant to be wielded by a single bearer, they were not meant to be turned against another of their bearers, they were not meant to be wielded by a pony who had so failed their Virtues.

He could still feel the selfishness and the cruelty, the lies and betrayal, the overwhelming despair that led to that final desperate act. It was faint, and nearly completely eclipsed by the Elements' much more recent triumph, but that taint would last in this place forever.

Discord shuddered, he remembered feeling the very Virtues of Harmony being sundered from the Terrestrial Plane, rendering the Elements into useless stone spheres.

He had seen what happened when the Lunatics had their Loyalty to their Goddess stolen from them, leaving only madness and rage in its absence. The moment when 'Lunatic' became synonymous with 'madmare'.

He had seen the great city of Everfree burn.

There was a small part of Discord that was glad that he spent the subsequent period alone as a statue. He had no desire to see to what ponykind would be reduced absent the Virtues of Harmony. Without loyalty or honesty, kindness or generosity, without joy.

And if the sundering of the Virtues of Harmony had driven the Lunatics mad, what had it done to Princess Celestia?

And what did she do to herself?

As Discord sat in quiet contemplation, the alicorn of war and darkness – buried under twenty tonnes of stone – called out voicelessly mere metres away.

Twilight sat wordlessly, his rage had burned itself out, leaking him only feeling somewhat empty and emotionally exhausted, “I'm deeply sorry for that, Spike. I should have never let my emotions get the best of me.”

“You don't need to apologize, you're entitled to feel upset.”

“No.” Twilight responded with intensity, “I'm not, I can't. I have to be better than that. I'm far too powerful. I could kill a pony, or worse ...” Twilight trailed off, staring into the distance. I'm sorry, Princess Celestia; I'm a Bad Pony.

“Worse? What could be worse than killing somepony?”

Oh, so many things Spike, after all 'Magic is the key to infinite wonders and horrors beyond comprehension'. The stallion sighed, “Nothing that you need concern yourself with, Spike.”

Spike frowned, “Is this another 'I'll tell you when you're older' thing?” He pouted, “I'm not a baby, Twilight.”

“No, it's a 'Hopefully, I'll never be in the position where I need to tell you' thing. There are things that are best if you never know, magics that are best kept secret.”

“Is this to do with the 'Dark' and 'Grey' magics Princess Celestia mentioned in in her letter?”

Twilight slammed a hoof into his face, of course Spike would manage to put two and two together, he had just read the terms from the Princess' letter. A letter that Twilight – in his foolishness – had given to him to read. Unfortunately, Spike had already learned enough to pique his youthful curiosity, enough to point him in the right direction if wished to know; especially considering his access to Twilight's library. Twilight sat down on his haunches as he stared Spike in the eyes. “Spike, what I'm about to tell you is secret. That means you can't tell anypony about it. Not even the other Elements of Harmony; especially not the Cutie Mark Crusaders.” That last point was crucial, nopony wanted young foals to discover that they had a Talent for fell Dark magic, or less corruptive but still incredibly dangerous Grey magic.

Spike's eyes widened, while he was young, he understood the severity in Twilight's voice. The wyrmling put his claw over his heart and nodded solemnly, “I promise.”

Twilight sighed and adopted a lecturing tone, “After the formation of the Mage's Guild and the formalizing of arcana as a field of study, there was a massive explosion in magical knowledge. With many entirely new schools and natures of magic discovered in a very short amount of time. It rapidly became obvious that some of the new magic had ... unfortunate side effects on those using them, corrupting anypony who used them. Thus the Guild had an emergency moot, during which such magic was declared to be 'Dark Magic' and was Prohibited, meaning that only those with a specific licence could legally use such magic.”

If the history books Twilight had found in the Crystal Empire were to be believed that moot had also been the inciting incident of the First Equestrian Civil War, later known as the Umbrum War. A conflict which had transformed the mostly peaceful city-state of Equestria into the militaristic and imperialistic Republic of Equestria; a republic that would eventually be the greatest empire that the world had ever known.

From what those books had said, whatever thing it was that they had fought in the Crystal Empire couldn't have been more than a pale shadow of the Umbrum king.

“Then much later the concept of 'Grey Magic' was added, referring to magic that – while not innately corruptive – could be used to corrupt somepony, either in folly or malice. And while the precise legal definition of 'corruption' is somewhat debated ...” meaning that there were several archmagi who claimed Virtue Magic was Dark. As if his friends becoming more attuned to the virtue that they embody was in any way analogous to the twisting of mind, body or spirit caused by actual Dark Magic, “... it's pretty self evident, as far as I'm concerned. Corruption is a permanent, detrimental change to one's mind, body or magic.”

Twilight twisted his magic in a way that was painful and nauseating and itchy and produced dozens of other awful sensations that Equish had no words for as tainted purple magic leaked from his eyes and his horn lit a malevolent black, “B̸͓̽e̷̖̕h̵̫̀o̴̲̒l̴̳̍d̸̻̊,̷͇͆ ̸̘̿C̴̗̾o̷̩̒r̴͔̾r̸͉̒u̸̢̽p̸̦̂t̷̤͠i̸͓͊ȯ̷̤n̷̍ͅ ̸̮̽M̴̧̛a̷̢͘g̸͙͝ḯ̵͔c̴͜͠,̴̝̔ ̸̯̉t̶̥̂ḧ̸͚́ë̸̳ ̶͓̿ö̷͈́r̸̼͠ḭ̵͒g̶̰̀ḯ̵͍n̷̤̓a̵͕͐l̵̯̎ ̶̮̇D̷̟͊a̸̙̍r̴͉͋k̶͖̒ ̷͓͠Ṃ̴͘ä̷̙g̶̛̰i̶͉̿ċ̸͍.̷̗̕ ̶̤̊I̷̬͝t̵̠̓'̷͇̄s̴̙͑ ̶̥͆.̸̦̅.̷̩͒.̶̝̅” whatever the stallion was going to say next was lost as his magic suddenly cut out as he wobbled on his hooves before vomiting onto the ground and collapsing.

Spike's eyes widened in panic as he rushed to the stallion's side, “Twilight, are you okay.”

Twilight just groaned as he regretted the life choices that led to this moment, feeling like an entire herd of ponies had galloped over his brainmeats – this was the worst corruption magic backlash he had felt since the first time he cast such magic –not too different from a hangover. or at least that's what Twilight had heard. He was far too powerful a mage to have the luxury of dabbling with mood altering drugs like alcohol.

“Oh, Sparkles'll be fine,” A voice drawled the other side of the room, “Just give him a few moments to contemplate his poor choices. I mean, Dark Magic so shortly after such a major transformation? Seriously?”

Twilight shakily got to his hooves and made an obscene wing-gesture at the mare.

Dame Shadow Star laughed, “Atta boy, that's the spirit, show that Twilight steel in your spine.”

Twilight sighed, Shadow – along with her twin sister Dame Deep Umbra – composed the alicorn's royal guard. The two mares were actually Twilight's first cousins; their mother had tragically died in childbirth and as their father had been a contract stud they went to their uncle – Twilight's father – and had been raised by House Twilight. They were Twilight in all but name ... and blood and title and magic and Id and hereditary enchantments ...

... well, they were very Twilight in their temperament and ethos, at least. Honestly, much like an inverse to Twilight Sparkle himself. The familial relation combined with the prototypical Twilight disdain for noble hierarchy and propensity for banter resulted in a relationship that was very atypical of an alicorn royal with his guards/knights. At least Umbra attempted to be polite, even if she didn't always succeed.

The black unicorn lounged lazily upon the largest stack of fallen books – her short, messy indigo mane splayed out under her – seemingly uncaring about anything going on around her. It was – of course – a carefully practised act; despite the air of oblivious sloth Shadow exuded, she was certainly ready in the rare case a pony were to actually attack her charge.

Shadow – like her sister – was a fully qualified Battle Mage and a combat veteran; having fought in both the Changeling War and the current Gryphon Civil War, as well as countless smaller conflicts. The mare had a body count well into three digits, although Twilight didn't know the precise number; there just wasn't a comfortable way to ask a pony how many ponies/gryphs/lings/assorted creatures she had killed.

Twilight looked away from his most vexing guard and to his faithful assistant, who was staring at him with a mixture of concern and horror. Twilight made a dismissive gesture with a wing, “I'm fine Spike.”

Spike said nothing as he glanced at the puddle of sick by Twilight's hooves, before staring at the alicorn.

“Oh, don't be like that,” Twilight lit his horn and vanished the evidence, “A little Corruption Magic never hurt anypony – I'd have to use it hundreds of times to have any noticeable permanent adverse effects – it's just ... rather uncomfortable to use.”

Spike frowned, “Why would anypony use it?”

“Because a unicorn can use it to do things that would otherwise be incredibly difficult if not impossible to do with unicorn magic, like casting spells in opposition of your alignment or even imitating the magic of another tribe. For example King Sombra used Corruption Magic to imitate crystal pony magic, both to generate those dark crystals he liked to use and to draw power from the fear and despair of the crystal ponies. Add to that, every time using Corruption Magic is easier than the last.”

Spike sighed, “That's pretty Evil, Twilight.”

“King Sombra was evil, yes, but Corruption Magic isn't, it's just ... dangerous ... if overused.”

“And how precisely is it dangerous?”

“Well, if used enough, it apparently starts to feel good, good enough to become addictive. And then ... well ... you gradually loose the ability to use any magic that isn't Corruption Magic, go insane and transform into an umbrum. And before you ask, I don't know what an umbrum is, other than Sombra was apparently one, but one individual is hardly enough to define an entire population.”

Spike hugged the stallion again, “I love you Twilight, I don't want you to go mad or become an 'umbrum'.”

“Technically, the singular form of 'umbrum' is 'umbra'”

“No, it's not, Shadow.” Twilight said loudly, not even glancing at the mare in question, “An umbra and an umbrum are completely distinct things and the plural form of the former is 'umbrae'. Stop making things up in order to imply unfortunate things about your sister.”

“Bah, you're no fun.”

Twilight rolled his eyes, before looking softly at Spike, “I'm not going go mad or turn into an umbrum, Spike. Do you really think I am that careless?”

Spike deadpanned at the stallion.

Twilight pouted in mock offence, “Hey, I'm not that bad.”

“Face it, Sparkles, you ain't known for your prudence nor caution when it comes to subjects arcane. Why, House Twilight has acquired some parasprites with the most distressingly odd diet. The faces on the bucking gryph rebel scum when those tiny fluffballs started consuming their arms and armour was hilarious, and when they started eating their tents? Hah, pure gold.”

Wasn't that a concerning revelation, that House Twilight had apparently deployed parasprites in war. “Wait, how do you know about parasprites? I couldn't find a single book that mentioned them.”

“Did you check the Manor's libraries?”

“You know I haven't been to the manor since I was eight.”

“Well, thar's yer problem. The Twilights have a bunch of books about all the many beasties and whatnot of the Everfree Forest. After their ancestors – your ancestors – spent those ten generations of exile in the forest.”

“I've already told you why I can't return.” Twilight glared at his guard, both she and her sister had an unfortunate habit of bringing up the subject of his self-imposed exile, it was the most exasperating part of having them as guards.

“You know, for as much as you claim to hate your mother, you sure give her a lot of power over you. High Lady Twilight Velvet the Mad is hardly the be all and end all of House Twilight. In fact, some would say she's the least.” Shadow, put a surprising amount of malice in that last word.

Twilight flinched, “What? I don't give her power over me.”

Shadow gracefully stood up upon her pile of books and stared down at her charge “Then why ...” she stalked down the pile, “...do you refuse to return to your ancestral home, to your family? Why do you send them away when they come to you? They miss you ... we miss you.”

Twilight looked away from the unicorn, “I'm sorry, I just can't.”

The mare trotted up to the larger stallion and gave him an affectionate nuzzle, “I don't know what that mare put you through, and I'm deeply sorry that we failed to protect you, but you can't let the hurt alienate you from those of us who care for you.”

Twilight took a step back and gave his cousin a cold look, “You're right, you don't know what she put me through.” he paused, “I wish she had hurt me.”

Shadow stared at the alicorn agape, “What?”

“She didn't hurt me, she twisted me. She raised me to be her little pet monster, she raised me to be a Bad Pony.” Twilight was breathing heavy in aggression as he stared down at the mare, barely stopping himself from attacking her. He wanted to hunt something. He wanted to kill something.

Shadow stared in confusion at Twilight and mouthed 'bad pony', the foalish incongruity was deeply out of character for the scholarly alicorn.

Twilight's eyes widened as he realized what he had thought, I'm sorry Princess Celestia, I'm a Bad Pony, “Leave.”

“Wha ...”

“I said LEAVE.”

The guardsmare – knocked back and deafened by the Royal Canterlot Voice – scampered unsteadily out of the library.

There was a long silence as neither alicorn nor wyrmling spoke.

Twilight turned to Spike “So, Spike, where were we?”

Spike glanced at the door Shadow had left by and back at the stallion, “Twilight, are you okay?”

Twilight deadpanned, “Spike, I'm a stallion, I don't know why, and I can't change back. Of course I'm not okay.”

“So we're not going to talk about that.” Spike gestured at the door.

“I don't see why we would need to, Dame Shadow merely overstepped her bounds.”

“Uh huh ...” Spike replied dubiously.

There was another short silence.

“Okay, so despite not being inherently corruptive like Dark Magic, Grey Magic can be just as dangerous, if not moreso, than Dark Magic; it depends on the specific schools or natures you're comparing. In fact most of the infamous magics commonly colloquially referred to as 'dark' are in fact Grey Magic: dreamwalking, mind magic, soul magic, biomancy, to name a few.”

“Wait, 'soul magic' as in necromancy?”

Twilight chuckled, “No, not in the slightest, they're completely unrelated in fact. And necromancy is Dark, as Dark as magic comes, actually.” Technically necromancy was only the second darkest magic, but there was no way in Tartarus that Twilight was ever going to even imply the existence of that to Spike. “Although not for the reasons the common ponies think.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most common ponies look at something like a zombie and immediately think 'dark magic', but if the the animating of dead ponies as corpse-puppets was all there was to necromancy, then it wouldn't even warrant being Grey Magic. The problem is that necromancy is death magic, it doesn't play well with life magic – 'magic abhors its opposite' and all that – and well, ponies are powered by life magic.”

Spike winced.

“Yeah, I've seen a couple pictures of acute necromantic poisoning, it's not pretty; the unfortunate soul's a dead mare walking, and I don't mean in the undead way. Her very cells are rendered incapable of reproducing: gonads, dead; bone marrow, dead; immune system, dead; intestinal lining, dead. Even the cutting edge of modern medical science can only keep her ... I hesitate to say 'alive' ... for at best two weeks before she's too far gone, her very organs liquefying as their constituent cells die without replacing themselves. The best that can be done for her is a quick peaceful death before it gets that far.”

Spike was green, well greener than usual. “Twi ...”

“I'm not going to touch necromancy, Spike.” Twilight shuddered, “I promise. I would use literally any other kind of magic before I even thought about using necromancy.” While not a lie, that statement was significantly less hypothetical than the alicorn implied. Twilight Sparkle had dabbled in every school of magic except necromancy, primarily in her foalhood under Twilight Velvet. It had apparently been somewhat of a controversy in House Twilight; while the Twilights were quite a bit less restrictive about magic than the Council of Magi, even the Twilights frowned upon teaching prepubescent fillies Grey and Dark magics. Umbra had confided in the alicorn that it was the only reason why the Twilights had let the young filly become Celestia's apprentice in the first place.

Velvet had so thoroughly twisted her daughter that the Twilight Council didn't have any better idea than to give her to apprentice under the Princess they viewed as an adversary. I'm sorry Princess Celestia, I'm a Bad Pony.

Twilight shook his head, “So, back to Grey Magic; since it's so topical, I will use biomancy as an example.” Twilight paused, “The school of biomancy is the school of magic concerned with the manipulation of biologic functions and the base life magic associated with them, it is of a diametrically opposed nature to necromancy. But don't let that deceive you, biomancy can be more dangerous than necromancy. The worst necromancy can do to a pony is to kill her. Kill her in a horribly gruesome and painful way, yes, but still only kill her. Biomancy can do so much worse.”

“Like, what?” Spike asked despite his better judgment.

“Like, for example, a spell that alters a pony's nerves so that all her pain receptors are permanently stimulated.”

Spike's eyes widened.

“She would be cursed to feel the greatest pain physiologically possible for the rest of her miserable, hellish life.” Twilight paused and stared mournfully at the wyrmling, “I could make that spell, Spike. It wouldn't even be difficult. Far easier than any beneficial biomancy spell; the body's a complex thing, breaking it is so much easier than improving it.”

Spike once again looked at the stallion with great concern. He didn't know what to say in response to that.

“Of course, I would never do such a thing.” This time there was no deceit in the statement, even as a filly Twilight hadn't been evil enough to do such a thing. I'm sorry Celestia, I'm a Bad Pony.

“That's good ...”

“But even without deliberate malice it's still dangerous. As I said, the body is complicated; even a tiny change can have dozens of other side-effects in other parts of the body that have to be accounted for if you don't want to encounter unforeseen difficulties. And even if you manage that, some adverse effects cannot be mitigated.” Twilight paused, “If I told you I could give you the strength of ten mares, like Spidermare, would you want it?”

“Uh, I guess ...” Spike replied extremely hesitantly.

“And if I told you that you'd also need to eat ten mares worth of food?”

Spike pondered it for a second before shaking his head.

“Good,” Twilight paused, “It wasn't a serious offer, I don't know nearly enough about dragon physiology to even know where to start. If you were a pony ... it would be difficult, sure, but I could do it.” Twilight adopted a focused expression, like he always did when working on a hard problem, “Tendons would need to be massively strengthened so they don't tear. Bones too would need to be strengthened to make sure they don't snap. The entire digestive system would need to be overhauled and accelerated in order to keep up with the caloric load; that would require some serious trade offs, the pony likely would be rendered completely incapable of digesting most complex carbohydrates and would need to rely entirely on highly calorie dense foods like simple carbohydrates and meat. The circulatory system would need to be overhauled as well, both to serve the much increased metabolic needs of the body and to deal with the massive blood pressure caused by the enhanced muscles in the heart. The increased metabolic need and reduced metabolic efficiency would result in a lot of waste heat, so that would need to be dealt with in some way, but the end result would certainly run more than a few degrees hotter than a normal pony; so heat resistance would be a must, especially the reproductive system which is particularly heat sensitive. The respiratory system would need some improvements, and hemoglobin counts would likely need to be increased. And, of course, all the many tissues of the body would need to be reinforced to survive the increased acceleration such a pony would be capable of.”

Twilight took a deep breath, “And that's just what I can think of off the top of my head, I estimate that creating such a spell would take me about a year.” And if the stallion were willing to venture back into Twilight Manor, he wouldn't even need to make the spell; one of his ancestors had done it for him. And the fact that none of his ancestors had cast that spell on themselves, despite their very well documented proclivity for such magic, spoke to just how significant the downsides were.

Of course, caloric needs were a much bigger deal back in the Dark Age; it was not a time of plenty and even the wealthy and powerful were never that far from starvation. It would have been utter madness for anypony to use such a spell in that time – at least if they had any hope for a long life or children – yet alone the Twilights – then known as the 'Order Stalwart of the Pillar of Twilight' as nobility hadn't actually existed in that period – who relied more on spell and wit than force of hoof.

“And then we need to talk about inheritance. Of traits, not of wealth, biomancy will always have some effect on the children of the pony in question. A well built biomancy spell will breed true for a hundred generations, slowly integrating with the ponies' magic until the change no longer even qualifies as foreign, but is rather a completely innate part of the ponies' base magic” That was how the many idiosyncratic traits of the Twilights had remained true over a thousand years after they had been cast into flesh, “A poorly built biomancy spell will decay over the generations causing somewhat unpredictable effects in the descendants of the original target.” Twilight grimaced, “Some of those effects can be pretty nasty, especially considering how interdependent the changes caused by biomancy are.”

“Wait ...” Spike stated in realization, “Were the spells that the ancient ponies used to make colts into fillies biomancy?”

“Why, yes, Spike.” Twilight smiled at the wyrmling, “Well, they were a lesser subschool of biomancy, barely even qualifies. But ... well, 'barely even qualifies' still qualifies.” Twilight wing-shrugged, “It's a lot easier to transform an organism into something that already exists than to create something new. I doesn't solve all of the issues, but even an incompetent hack of a hedge mage could manage it if she had a good enough example; just do some nature transformation to produce life mana, imbue the spell with the intent and blueprint and guide the magic to the right places. It's a very stupid idea, but apparently the ancient ponies were phenomenally, incomprehensibly, apocalyptically STUPID.” Twilight snarled, feeling the distinct desire to tear out the long dead ponies' throats with his inequinely sharp teeth.

Spike looked at the alicorn in caution, ready to flee, but it became clear that he wasn't going to explode ... again.

Twilight took several deep breaths, successfully calming himself down. “Maybe I'm being too hard on them, biomancy was only discovered early in the first Principality, not that long before this happened, anyways it's probably a good thing that the spells were so poorly cast, or ponies likely would have gone extinct a long time ago ... or maybe the much quicker feedback would have convinced ponies to stop their foolishness. Entire bloodlines incapable of producing stallions would be rather conspicuous. Honestly, it boggles the mind. There are a few studies about the possible interactions between multiple decaying hereditary spells, but the idea of there being enough to make a critical mass strong enough to last thousands of years is bucking insane.”

There was a pause.

Twilight had an idea, “Wait ...” there was a magenta flash and suddenly Twilight had a book levitating in front of her 'The Complete Abridged History of the Mages Guild', “Yes, I was right. The convention of 121 RA.” He stated, as if that explained anything at all.

“What?”

“The Mages' Guild convention of 121 Regnum Alicornus. It was the largest convention the Mages' Guild held at any time since its founding, dwarfing even the infamous Convention on Umbrum and Corruption Magic. It was the convention that established the danger category of Grey Magic as well as the legal category of 'Forbidden', which is even more restrictive than 'Prohibited'. And, here, Biomancy was the first school of magic to be placed in both categories. Hah, take that historians, it wasn't alphabetization.”

“Okay, Twilight, slow down. I'm still not following.”

Instead of speaking, Twilight just levitated the book in front of Spike's snout.

'Curiously, the Convention of 121 – unlike every other convention prior or since – has no historically recorded reason for being called. While most historians believe that the Convention of 121 was a reaction to the deprivations of the Mad God during the Age of Chaos that had recently ended, but a few individuals assert – without a shred of evidence – that the convention was actually a response to some undetermined hypothetical event that they claim has been scoured from history.' He read, “Oh ...”

Twilight was reading another another book levitating in front of him, this one titled 'Magicks Moste Foul: A History' “'Oh' indeed.” He spoke without looking up from his book “'Without a shred of evidence' my shaggy flank, 121 was – well – a hundred and twenty-one years after Discord's defeat, very few ponies would have even been alive for the Age of Chaos, why would the Mages' Guild suddenly react that way to something that happened so long ago.

Ah, and listen to this Spike, 'While biomancy was only given its name in 87 RA, its first documented use was in 19 RA and many theorize that the school had actually been invented even earlier, perhaps even during the Age of Chaos; that claim that can neither be verified nor falsified, as – naturally – no records exist from that period.'” Twilight glanced at Spike, “It all fits together rather well.

Imagine this, some young noblemare births a son when she wanted a daughter. Perhaps it was her first pregnancy and it was rough enough that midwife was worried that she wouldn't survive another; as her house follows matrilineal primogeniture, like most noble houses, so she has no heir. She goes to her court mage with her problem and she's in luck, there's this brand new school of magic – it doesn't even have a proper name yet –that can solve her problem, just one spell and her son is now a daughter.”

“Matrilineal primowhatnow?”

“Matrilineal means that only female members of the house can inherit and primogeniture means that everything is inherited by the firstborn. While there's some historic evidence that the pre-Equestrian unicorn Lunar Clans were actually patrilineal, and the Pegasus Flights definitely followed egalitarian inheritance, the vast majority of modern noble houses are matrilineal and most of those practice primogeniture. And that has been the case since the Republican period.”

The evidence of the Lunar Clans being patrilineal was actually pretty controversial. There were more than a couple historic 'treatises' that were little more than an unhinged scree insulting the intelligence, heritage, education and morality of ponies who put credence into such evidence.

A number of psychologists had made a much stronger rebuttal, pointing out that stallions had – on average – a much higher agreeableness and neuroticism and a much lower openness and conscientiousness than mares. A temperament that was not well suited for leadership. One had even gone so far as imply that stallions were less intelligent on average than mares.

That paper had been retracted almost immediately, the author disappearing for three weeks before publicly apologizing for spreading 'mean lies'.

Spike looked sadly at the stallion who had formerly been a mare, “What about you, does that mean ...” he gestured at Twilight

“... that I'm disinherited? Hah, I wish.” Twilight scowled darkly, “Whenever someone makes a statement that includes 'most noble houses', House Twilight is almost always one of the exceptions. Often the only exception. 'We' Twilights really take pride in being different.” Twilight scoffs. “House Twilight's inheritance is egalitarian instead of matrilineal – meaning that there's no preference based on sex – and a weird hybrid system instead of strict primogeniture. I won't go into it, but there's a reason why I'm only the 'heir presumptive' instead of the 'heir apparent' despite being my mother's first child.”

Spike decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and did not venture into the milieu of why precisely Twilight not being disinherited was a bad thing. He then had a thought, “Wait, isn't Shining your older brother, shouldn't he be the 'heir presumptive'?”

“Shiny's my half brother, Spike. His mother, Soft Aegis, is my father's second wife.”

“Your parents are divorced?!” Spike asked before realizing how little sense that made; Shining was the older sibling.

Twilight looked at Spike in confusion, when had he even implied that? “Of course not, where did you even get that idea?”

“So your mother is your father's third wife?”

Twilight laughed, “Oh, that's good, Spike. No, that would be Spell Thought.”

Spike wondered just how many poor mares had that stallion gone through, “She's his fourth?”

“My father only has three wives, Spike.”

Spike in his mental calculus had missed the present tense in that last statement and thus he continued his attempt to fit together several seemingly mutually exclusive claims.

“So, where was I? Oh yes, mares all across Equestria are having their colts transformed into fillies. It has ceased to be something done out of necessity and is now an act of vanity. Getting newborn colts transformed into fillies was the First Principality equivalent of fancy exotic hoofbags. This goes on for a few generations, and then somepony notices that there are too few colts being born ...” Twilight trailed off and looked at the wyrmling who was staring into the distance, “Spike, you aren't listening at all.”

There was a brief pause before Spike came to a realization, “Your father is married to three mares.” he spoke in a daze.

Twilight tilted his head, “Yes? Is that not what I said?”

“Your father is married to three mares at the same time.”

“Yes ... are you okay, Spike?”

“Why is your father married to three mares?”

“Why wouldn't he be?”

Wut?

Twilight stared at the young dragon for several seconds before finally realizing the problem, “Sorry Spike, I forgot that monogamy is the norm in Equestria.” he said, rubbing the back of his head with a hoof in embarrassment.

Spike stared at the stallion incredulously, “You forgot monogamy is normal?”

“In my defence, I haven't exactly had much time to contemplate romance in these last couple decades.”

“Twilight, polygamy is illegal.”

Twilight scoffed and made a dismissive gesture with a hoof, “Of course it's not.”

Spike sighed, “This is another House Twilight thing, isn't it.”

Twilight recoiled as if struck. How could he have fallen so easily into such a Twilight mindset? Even after almost two decades under Princess Celestia? I'm sorry Princess Celestia, I'm a Bad Pony.

Spike put a claw over his face and let a long breath. Today had been illuminating,he was getting way way too intimate with Twilight's extensive stable of neuroses, many of which the wyrmling had just learned. He was already way past his daily budget for crazy. “Okay, Twilight what happened next with the colt transformation thing?”

“Uh, that's where things get pretty hard to guess. I have no idea how many generations it would take for the spell residue to become supercritical, or how long it took to discover the problem; although history seems to give an upper limit of 121 years, as I highly doubt ponies were pulling this nonsense in the Age of Chaos. So after that, a convention of the Mages' Guild is called, the spell is declared treason, biomancy is declared Forbidden Grey Magic and the disaster is averted in some unspecified way that probably involves either really shady magic or unethical equine experimentation. Probably both. Then the entire event is scoured from history.”

“Princess Celestia has quite a habit of doing that, doesn't she? Nightmare Moon, Discord, The Crystal Empire and Sombra, Tirek, this.”

“Hush, you, Princess Celestia knows what she's doing.”

Spike grunted noncommittally as he walked to the window of the library, “Uh, Twilight, it's late, like really late.”

Twilight trotted up beside the dragon and looked out into the dead of night, “That it is, Spike, that it is.” Twilight looked up to the moon – waxing gibbous – and was suddenly struck with an inequine impulse.

The stallion's grip slipped and the synthetic instincts stolen from an ancient extinct super-predator took over.

“AWOOOOOOOO!”

The window shattered outwards, failing under the unrelenting force of the unintentionally channelled Royal Canterlot Voice.

Twilight's irises narrowed to pinpricks as he watched the lights of Ponyville turn on one by one, his subjects waking in a panic.

“no no no no no no no no” Twilight repeated in a small voice. He had finally realized what the strange oddly familiar instincts that had been troubling him all day were, he had finally recognized them nearly two decades since he had felt them last. How could they be back? They were supposed to be gone, Princess Celestia had taught the young filly how to kill them. How to break the carceral power of the flesh under the supremacy of the intellect.

There was a flash of magenta and Spike was suddenly alone in the library.

Author's Note

And here's the rewrite of the first chapter of Twilight Prince. It's a bit longer than I expected but I'm way happier with it than the previous version.

At least in this one, Twilight is acting in a way at least in vague proximity of his/her canon characterization. Just with a little extra spice.

Twilight Sparkle is totally a sane and well functioning pony.

If anyone sees any formatting that is wrong or words that have been weirdly fused please tell me about them. Fimfiction likes to randomly eat spaces and bork formatting when I copy-paste into the text box. I think I got most of them, but i probably missed a few.

Chapter 2: Pride and Cowardice

Author's Note

Well this got dark. Hopefully this will be the darkest this story gets.

Chapter 2: Pride and Cowardice

Princess Luna, Mistress of Dreams sighed as she drifted through the Realm of Dreams, around her the dreaming minds of her ponies lit up the darkness like tiny stars.

The lunar alicorn had often wondered whether the stark similarity this place held with the night sky was indicative of some greater connection. Or merely another of many coincidences?

Luna shook her head, that was a thought for another time; she was far too busy to ruminate on such things.

This had been an exhausting night, and it wasn't anywhere near over.

Oh, the night had started off calmly enough, with only the regulars – the handful of ponies in Equestria who had chronic night-terrors – and the occasional foal's nightmare to deal with.

In a moment of weakness, Luna had even dared to think that it would be a relaxing quiet night.

That was, naturally, that exact moment that the entire town of Ponyville had snapped awake as one.

The reason why had become apparent several seconds later as Luna heard a distant keening howl. Thankfully it had not been loud enough to wake any but the lightest sleepers in the capital.

Luna had immediately dispatched everything that she could spare to the town, as little as that was.

The night guard had not done well in Celestia's Equestria. Especially with the Lunar Unicorn Houses numbering but a third of the Solar brethren, and most of those had abandoned their nocturnal life for the much more common diurnal.

Luna crushed that rising thread of resentment, she had already seen where that led, the whole world had.

Not a hair nor print had been seen of the beast since the Howl; that is, if there even was a beast. Luna suspected that something else had been responsible.

However, just because her little ponies seemed to be safe, that didn't mean that Luna's job was finished. In fact, it had only marked the beginning of her work.

Ponyville's ponies inevitably trickled back into sleep, and when they returned to Luna's Realm they brought troubled minds, plagued with dreams of lupine beasts hunting them.

Many beasts had preyed on the ponies of the past, but none had penetrated so deep into the psyche of ponies – of all hoofed prey races, really – as the Wolf; none caused such primal fear.

The oldest myths known to ponykind were of the terrible flight from the Howls of wolves.

Even that mare with the llama phobia had her dream figments moving in distinctly lupine ways. Luna shuddered, there was something distinctly wrong to see one of the hoofed prey races act with such mannerisms. It was in some ways worse than the dreams of normal wolves.

Unfortunately, not all the dreams of troubled minds were nightmares, there were a concerningly large number of those other dreams. Dreams of mares being hunted; not for food, but to sate a very different hunger.

She sighed, the myths of the Wolfwives – mares who abandoned equinity to, well, become the wives of wolves – were also far from recent.

Of course, Luna had avoided those dreams, there wasn't anything she could do for those mares. They would need to discuss their ... proclivities ... with the therapists they so desperately needed.

Luna once again found herself thankful that the closest the world had to a sapient lupine race were the diamond dogs.

Several hours earlier:

On the great lonely mountain, the Pillar of Twilight, the Twilight Manor was built deep, antipodal to Equestria's illustrious capital city.

On the side of the manor floated a cloud.

On a cloud slept a slate grey pegasus.

“Awooooo”

The mare instantly snapped awake, but unlike the poor subjects of Ponyville this was not the result of fear.

This mare held no fear of the wolf.

Why would she?

Why would she fear herself?

For this mare was Lady Twilight Storm, the sole pegasus daughter of House Twilight. She was the wolf.

Instead the only thing she felt was joy, for this howl was a kinhowl she had not heard for nearly two decades.

“Sparkles,” she spoke breathlessly before she was overcome with emotion and answered with a howl of her own “Awoooooooo!”

Soon the air was filled with a beautiful chorus of howls as hundreds of voices celebrated the return of their long lost Prodigal Pup.

At the base of a great mountain an old earth mare was woken by an infernal racket.

'Dagnabbit, what's got them Twilights howling their throats out this time.” she grumbled before grabbing a pillow with a hoof and slamming it over her ear.

As the howling petered out Storm giggled to herself like a schoolfilly, still coming down from the twin joys of Pack and the return of the Lost.

That giggling turned to peals of laughter when she realized that while that first howl had certainly been the howl of Sparkles, it definitely hadn't been the howl of a mare.

And then there was the nightmare of Sir Spike. It had been a difficult nightmare to quell, every time she had thought she had beaten it, it would change and reveal a new facet to itself; always centred around the young, now male Twilight.

Twilight fallen to Corruption Magic, Twilight conducting horrible biomantic experiments on ponies, Twilight raising hoards of zombies as his body rotted away, Twilight mindslaving an entire town into chasing a doll, Nirik Twilight burning everything before him – Luna wondered where Spike could have possibly learned of the Kirin – Twilight seducing Lady Rarity away from him – that mare had to stop leading the young dragon on – Twilight as a hideous half-wolf monster ripping ponies limb from limb with tooth and claw

It had been the closest to a self-aware nightmare Luna had encountered since her return.

The night princess shuddered, the last thing Equestria needed was a dream-predator doppelganger of Prince Twilight Sparkle let loose on the decidedly less than innocent minds of the nation's mares.

Luna's reminiscence was broken by a sudden appearance of a pony in the Realm of Dreams. “Captain Night Song, report.”

The captain bowed, “Night Mistress ...”

Luna forcefully suppressed a shudder, she hated that title, it had been the title the Thestralis – now known as thestrals – used to refer to Her.

Still it was better than the alternative, Night Song was one of the few of her kind that recognized Luna as their rightful princess, instead of some kind of trick by Celestia. I even fail to live up to my own twisted reflection.

“... Lady Applejack has managed to divert the stampede and quell the cattle.”

“Good. Hast there been any sightings of the beast?”

“Well, a scout saw a pack of timber wolves retreating deeper into the Everfree Forest.”

“That wast not the howl of a timber wolf.”

“I know; Lady Fluttershy believes that they were fleeing the howl. Something about the food chain.”

Luna snorted, the chlorofiends were odd; despite being composed of wood they still acted in many ways as if they were beings of flesh and blood. Fleeing a predator that would be incapable of eating them would be something they would do.

“Oh, and one of the townsponies recorded the howl and put it through a 'Spectrogram' – whatever that is – and said that it had the 'hoofprints of being magically amplified'. I didn't know sound had hooves.”

Luna let out a deep breath, as she felt a weight lifted from her shoulders, “Why didst not thou lead with that?”

“Why? Is it that important?”

Luna sighed, “What doth it inform thee that the howl wast magically amplified?”

“That the wolf is magic.”

“That a pony didst this.”

Song's eyes crossed for a second, “Oh, yeah, that makes more sense.”

Luna placed her hoof flat between her eyes, “Return to the ponies, reassure the civilians that there is no Wolf, and have the guard scour Ponyville for the ... prankster ... that thought it was a good idea to cause this panic. We intend to throw the book at her.”

“Actually, corporal punishment was banned in year 198 of the Summer Sun by Princess Celestia.”

Luna glared at the thestral.

“It was in the pamphlet.”

“Actually, We think we will havest her flogged.”

“But I just said ...”

“We art a Sovereign Princess of equal power and authority to our sister.”

“Of course, Night Mistress.”

“Go,”

“Of course, Night Mistress.”

And Luna was alone ... sometimes that mare was exasperating.

But the thestrals' innate ability to come and go from the Realm of Dreams was invaluable. It had taken Luna decades to properly learn Dreamwalking, yet She had managed to create an entire tribe of ponies who found the art as easy as trotting.

And not for the first time the moon princess found herself wishing that she had the loyalty of more than a hoofful of their kind.

It was that moment that a familiar star burst into the Realm of Dreams. The dream of a pony, a stallion, that Luna desperately needed to speak with.

The dreams of Twilight Sparkle were a semi-regular destination for Princess Luna. Not because the young mare had been prone to nightmares. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Twilight had apparently learned to lucid dream at a young age and had spent the years since building her dreamshard into her perfect mind-castle.

It had, naturally, taken the form of an enormous library.

Luna had often dropped in on the mare whenever the Realm of Dreams was having an especially quiet day. The two would then spend hours talking about whatever topic in which the young mare had most recently found herself engrossed. It was ... nice ... and Luna honestly considered the younger alicorn a friend.

Even if her sharp intellect and encyclopedic knowledge of an absurd range of subjects had always made Luna feel deeply inadequate.

But what had struck Luna the most about Twilight's dreams is how stable, how solid, how orderly they were. Luna had been almost a century old when she had finally managed to make dream-constructs as solid as what a mare of 27 managed.

When Celestia had told Luna of the mental instability she had witnessed in her student, Luna had laughed in her older sister's face.

How could she believe such a thing, when Twilight's dream didn't even show the expected instability of a young mare in her sexual prime.

No, young Twilight's dreams were the dreams of a stable, well-ordered mind.

All this was to say, when Luna entered into Prince Twilight's dream, the last thing she expected was a category 5 hurricane forged of rage, terror and self-loathing to sweep her up and dash her against a field of rocks.

“Umbra?”

“Yes, Shadow?”

“I'm scared.”

“Sparkle?”

“Aye ... I don't ... I don't think he's okay. He's just so angry and hurting and ...” Shadow trailed off staring at the underside of the top bunk.

“He may not be. But that doesn't mean he won't be.”

“What do we do?”

“We do our job.”

“Eh?”

“We guard Twilight, we protect him from those that would attack him, and, if he desires, we provide a listening ear.”

“But ...”

“We can't fight Sparkle's battles for him; all we can do is fight our battles.” Umbra sighed, “There are some things that a guard can't protect her charge from, but there are many that we can. It is not worth imperilling the latter for the sake of worrying about the former.”

“I guess ...”

“And Shadow?”

“Yes?”

“Go the buck to sleep.”

“Buck you.”

It took several minutes for Princess Luna to reconstitute her dream avatar and several more for her to survey the scene around her.

It was Pandemonium.

Books, paper, and all the many accoutrements expected of a library flew past the mare on the howling winds, erratically colliding with each other and the rough rocky ground. Already Luna had been nearly hit several times.

A cold rain of black ink drenched Luna's thick coat through, until the mare felt the claws of a chill entirely beyond the natural. Its thick sheets occluded any sight beyond a couple metres.

But what she saw paled compared to what she felt.

The dream was as solid as Twilight's dreams had ever been, but there was no trace of the stability or order that Luna had long associated with the young mare's dreamshard.

Even worse was what underpinned the disorder, a Maelstrom formed from a seemingly endless font of dark emotions.

A nasty, twisted mess of rage, terror, hatred, self-loathing, shame, betrayal and other darker things, a few of which too esoteric for even Luna to place.

Far, far, far too many emotions to be the result of the alicorn's recent transformation.

A quick taste confirmed that estimation. These were not new emotions, they are old, years, perhaps even decades, old.

Moreover, they were stale. As stale as that box of crackers Luna had found in a dark corner of the castle's pantry several months ago.

It was like Twilight had not even bothered to feel these emotions before they were put in the metaphorical box.

Luna was familiar with repression – after all, it had been the root of why she had poured so much into Her – but what this Maelstrom represented was excessive.

Luna trudged forward, anchoring her hooves against the terrible winds trying to claw her from the ground, her wings folded tight to her barrel to deny the wind purchase. It was only due to Luna's extensive experience in dreamwalking that she was able to push through and not get swept up.

Once again, Luna was thankful that dreams were so easy to navigate – they were always more solid closer to the dreamer, something any skilled dreamwalker could easily detect – because this weather would have made it impossible otherwise.

The princess narrowly dodged an armchair that did its level best to take her head off.

Tens of minutes dragged on as the only indication of progress was the steady hardening of the dreamstuff around her and the worsening of conditions. There were several more close calls with flying objects and Luna had almost lost her grip on the stony ground several times.

Then, suddenly, the air around her was still. She had reached the eye of the storm. Which means ...

Luna looked up and saw the most beautiful stallion she had ever laid eyes upon. The pictures don't do him justice.

Prince Twilight Sparkle, Element of Magic, Duke of Everfree, floated nearly ten metres off the ground. His barrel was vertical with his undercarriage pointed in Luna's direction, his enormous, well proportioned wings were spread out behind him, all four long muscular legs limp.

Looking up to his face, his beautiful symmetrical face, Luna saw his eyes closed and his horn – thick, long and sharp – was sheathed in an overchanneled triple corona.

Luna had also noted his ... sizable ... nethers, but she wasn't a pervert and therefore didn't stare at them ...

... much.

Okay, fine, she stared a lot. She was an adult mare with a healthy libido; one that had never known the loving touch of a stallion. Why would any stallion choose her when Celestia exists?

Nonetheless, despite her ... distraction ... Luna didn't fail to notice Twilight's work. The stallion was exerting his will upon the surrounding dreamstuff and slowly bringing it back into order. The black walls of the storm were slowly – ever so slowly – being pushed back and the many toys of the wind were being reclaimed. Bookshelves flew into line and were populated with books streaming in from every direction, tables and desks and chairs settled in their place between the shelves.

It was humbling, that even so overwhelmed with his dark emotions, he still found the strength to push back against the darkness and drag his mind closer to order by sheer Force of Will.

If Luna had only a fraction of that strength, she would have never needed Her.

It was at that moment that a rogue book slammed into the back of Luna's skull.

The young filly known as Twilight Sparkle pranced down the halls of Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.

She was full of joy; even a year on, she still couldn't believe she was Princess Celestia's personal student (yes yes yes yes yes yes yes).

Twilight (for that was what Princess Celestia called her, despite Sparkle being her given name)passed a pair of her classmates and waved a hoof.

Neither of the fillies waved back.

If Twilight didn't know better, she would have thought that they were afraid of her.

Twilight had a lot of experience with ponies being afraid of her, but that was back when she had been a Bad Pony.

But Twilight wasn't a Bad Pony anymore, she was a Good Pony, Princess Celestia had told her so.

Twilight had been so happy when Princess Celestia had finally made that declaration; Twilight had worked so hard to be a Good Pony.

She had gone to bed on time, she had done Princess Celestia's special meditation every night (even if it really hurt), she had gone to all her classes, she hadn't cast any spells on her classmates (even when they annoyed her), she had eaten her wheaties, she hadn't hunted any of the meaties (even if she was hungry (and if the meaties didn't want to be eaten, they shouldn't be so tasty and made of meat)), she had listened to all her lessons (even when they were really, really boring), she hadn't howled even once (not even at the moon), she hadn't attempted to organize a coup d'etat (coup d'ecole?) to depose the principal (even if she's really mean), she hadn't bitten anypony, she hadn't cast even a single Grey Magic or Dark Magic spell, she had done all her homework.

So they couldn't be afraid of her, Twilight was a Good Pony.

Princess Celestia had told her so.

But if they aren't afraid of Twilight, then they must be afraid of something else.

Twilight gasped.

A monster!

Behind her!

The filly quickly turned around.

She saw nothing.

The monster must have already run away.

Twilight passed many other ponies, both classmates and teachers.

They had all stared in various flavours of horror and fear.

The monster is following her!

But every single time Twilight turned around the monster was gone.

It was fast.

Then Twilight got to Princess Celestia's Personal Sitting Room (Princess Celestia's Personal Sitting Room (Princess Celestia's Personal Sitting Room)).

Princess Celestia was frowning.

But that was normal, Princess Celestia was often frowning (doing that really funny blank look thing she does).

It was Twilight's job to make Princess Celestia smile.

Because Twilight was a Good Pony.

So she went to nuzzle Princess Celestia (she nuzzles Princess Celestia).

Princess Celestia pulled back.

What?

Princess Celestia's frown deepened.

What?!

“Twilight, I'm disappointed in you.”

No no no no no no no no ...

“What you did ... you hurt ponies.”

Twilight racked her brain for anything she could have done that would have hurt ponies. Was it her taking a second pudding cup? No, the nice lunch lady had given it to Twilight, it's not stealing if a pony gives it to you. Did she not listen well enough in basic magic theory? No, she remembered every single word. Was it her homework? No, she had gotten A+ on all her last assignments.

“What did I do?!” Twilight cried in anguish.

Princess Celestia sighed, “You know what you did.”

What? If Princess Celestia said it was true, it was true. That had been Princess Celestia' first lesson. So Twilight knew what she did ... but what if Twilight didn't know she knew?

It must be a mystery!

That meant even the smallest thing could be a Clue.

Twilight wracked her mind for anything that had stuck out.

Well, her calendar had said it was the 19th, despite yesterday being the 17th; somepony had tampered with it. Nana Whithersnicker had smelled strongly of the muffin stallion and had walked with a pronounced limp. A couple of the cityponies Twilight passed had been stumbling around, smelling strongly of ethanol and rotten grapes . The hoofball team had been practising despite how hoofball practices were scheduled for Wednesday not Tuesday. Oh, and of course a monster had been stalking her and scaring everypony.

Twilight desperately tried to fit the pieces together ... but she just wasn't smart enough.

“W-w-w-w-what did I do-oo-oo-oo~?” Twilight cried in anguish.

Princess Celestia's frown deepened, “Do not play games with me, Twilight. Those fillies' mothers are angry, they want you punished. They want you imprisoned, or banished. One of them even suggested that I banish you and then imprison you in the place I banished you too.”

Imprisonment? Banishment? “B-b-b-but, I'm a Good Pony.”

“No, Twilight, you are not.”

Twilight Sparkle, Bad Pony, curled up on the ground and bawled.

Twilight Sparkle came to with an unfamiliar stallion standing over her, a concerned look on his face. His features clearly marked him as a Twilight, and his colours were a mirror of her own.

The filly instinctively nuzzled into his soft, thick chest fluff as she cried.

The stallion wrapped a comforting wing around Twilight.

He has wings? But he was a unicorn, Twilight saw his horn.

“Luna, are you okay?” He spoke, his voice a deep comforting rumble.

Luna? Who's Luna, her name is ... aehpoigIHAIPGHGOH

...

Princess Luna threw herself backwards; away from Prince Twilight Sparkle, who she had been nuzzling. Nuzzling into his thick luxurious chest. Luna blushed incandescently with embarrassment.

“I'm so sorry, Luna, I didn't see you there. I was ... preoccupied.” The stallion gestured with a wing towards the dark walls of the storm surrounding the clearing.

Luna took several deep breaths before speaking unsteadily, “No, no, Thou needest not apologize. We wert the one who showed up unannounced.” Luna looked down and dragged a hoof against the ground. “So, uhh ...” Why was she so bad at talking to Stallions?

“No, Luna, I do. I shouldn't have lost control like this. you got hurt because of me. I need to be better than this.”

Princess Luna gave an appraising look at the stallion, forcing herself to look past his sheer heart-stopping beauty. She recalled the memory in which she had been immersed, it had been a very long time since Luna had lost herself in a memory like that.

Contrary to popular belief, dreams were not random. They followed their own internal logic. After all, dreams were just the subconscious mind's way of working out problems.

And when Luna looked at the dream around her, she saw the telltale sign of a subconscious screaming out for help.

That memory had been concerning in more ways than Luna could count. It was so strong and clear, it had to be important, perhaps even foundational to the Stallion she saw before her.

Nearly everything in the memory was concerning, but what struck out the most to the Moon Princess is that the young filly had lost a day.

Luna remembered when she had first started losing time. She hadn't noticed it at first, just a minute here and there. Something particularly upsetting would happen and then her consciousness would lapse.

But over time those episodes got longer, first hours, then days. Luna had been terrified, she had gone to Celestia many times.

But her big sister had never listened, not really. Oh she would nod her head as Luna poured her worries out, but she would always end with some meaningless platitude about how Luna wasn't getting enough sleep, how she was worrying too much, how it was probably nothing – after all, Celestia often had blackouts after weeks long benders. It was normal.

And then one day, Celestia had finally had enough and snapped that she had 'more important things to deal with than her moping sister' ... and the rest was history.

The next coherent memory she had was coming to in front of the six brave mares who had saved her. All Luna remembered before that was disjointed out of context memories of horrible violence unlike any Luna had ever seen followed by the Long-Cold-Dark.

“Luna, are you okay?”

Luna shook her head, “Sorry, we wert just thinking ...”

“Ah, yes thinking ...” The Stallion trailed off, not sure what to say next.

The memory had left so many unanswered questions ... how had Twilight ended up in such a disturbing psychological position?

The storm that was Twilight Sparkle's subconscious – perhaps predictably – answered that question by bashing Princess Luna's skull in with a book.

Young Sparkle frowned as she eyed the food in front of her. Well, the 'food', Sparkle highly doubted the substances in front of her actually constituted real food. She poked her 'rose petal and kale salad' with a fork, Sparkle hated kale.

Sparkle then scowled at the hayfries, hay fries. Hay was barely even a food; sure, ponies could digest it, but it was almost nutritionally empty. A pony who tries to live off hay dies slightly slower than a pony who eats nothing. Sparkle somewhat doubted that frying it in oil had done anything but add a few empty calories.

She glanced past her hayshake – what sadist had decided to taint a perfectly good milkshake with hay – and turned to The Betrayer.

When Sparkle had heard that today they were going to have burgers she had been ecstatic. While burgers were hardly her favourite dish – after all, they were made with off cuts and scraps that would have to be thrown out if not eaten – Sparkle had been getting ever so hungry.

“What's wrong, Twilight?” Moondancer asked, “I thought you liked hayburgers?”

“I said, 'I like burgers', that ...” Sparkle gestured to The Betrayer, “... is not a burger.”

Moondancer shrugged, she didn't understand the distinction.

Nopony understood.

Sparkle shoved the tray away from herself, spilling the shake, “I'm going to go find something to eat.” She stalked off, ignoring the confused stares and muttered gossip from the other foals.

She quickly found her way to the school kitchen and snuck in unseen.

Sparkle desperately searched the fridges and freezers but failed to find what she was looking for.

Suddenly there was a scream of terror from the pantry, “RAT!” the door of the pantry slammed open and a panicked mare and an equally panicked rodent flew into the kitchen.

“RAT!” Sparkle screamed in excitement and bolted after the animal.

The rat scrambled under a cart, desperate to escape the pursuing filly.

Sparkle followed, her larger body upending the cart and sending several prepared meals flying onto several members of the kitchen staff.

The rat scrambled up the side of the island and ran left along its top.

The filly jumped up to the counter top in a single bound preparing to divert every spare scrap of her base mana to her hooves to grip the stainless steel.

Unfortunately it wouldn't be enough, but thankfully an option presented itself. The counter wasn't empty.

Sparkle hip-checked a blender full of hayshake hard enough it followed a nearly vertical path into the far wall. The impulse of the collision provides just enough delta v to stabilize her trajectory.

The filly sprinted after the rat, uncaring about the plates she sent flying.

Soon they got close to the end of the counter, a single teenaged colt in their path.

The colt was wearing large headphones, and had apparently failed to notice the ruckus. He looked up, saw the rat, and reared back whinnying in terror.

The rat reached the end of the counter and jumped.

A fraction of a second later Sparkle reached the end of the counter, and, putting her front flat against the side of the counter's lip, launched herself.

Sparkle snapped the rat out of the air as she reoriented her body so her hooves were faced forward, setting springlike structures of muscle, cartilage and tendons in her legs to absorb the collision.

Four hooves hit the colt like a cannonball, upsetting the colt's already compromised balance.

He toppled like a lumberjack's quarry, hitting the ground with a meaty thud.

Sparkle carried the momentum of the fall into a combat roll, then once she had all four hooves under her, she released the stored tension and, like a bolt from a ballista, flew out the door.

She didn't slow down as she silenced the rat's panicked squeaking with a single hard shake of her head.

As Sparkle put distance between herself and the kitchen, she slowed to an easy lope and navigated herself to Princess Celestia's office, nosing her way in.

Princess Celestia glanced at Sparkle before turning back to her paperwork, “Twilight, what are you doing here?”

Princess Celestia froze and slowly turned back to the filly, “Twilight,” Princess Celestia spoke slowly, “is that a rat?!”

Sparkle nodded happily, her tail wagging as she proudly displayed her kill to her surrogate mother.

“Twilight,” Celestia said coldly, “Drop it. That's disgusting.”

Twilight let her kill slip out of her muzzle and fall to the ground.

“Now, Twilight ...” whatever Princess Celestia said next wasn't recognized by the filly.

Sparkle was too hungry. She held her kill down with a hoof and took a bite of its sweet, sweet flesh.

The filly moaned in appreciation as she swallowed, it was so, so good.

She went for another bite, but her teeth met only air.

Her kill was gone.

Sparkle looked up at Princess Celestia in utter betrayal.

Princess Celestia continued to lecture the filly with words Sparkle neither heard nor understood.

Princess Luna gasped as she came to, thankfully still remembering who she was this time.

“Luna, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to do that. Are you okay?” The panicked stallion fussed over the night princess.

As Luna shakily got to her hooves with Twilight's assistance, she felt a phantom taste in the back of her mouth.

The taste of rat.

Luna gagged as she recalled the memory that she had just witnessed, she had eaten a rat!

“Luna?”

Luna vomited on the stallion, vomit which was – thanks to the nature of dreams – composed of the blood and viscera and gore of what Luna fundamentally knew to be rats.

Twilight staggered back, his coat stained red with gore, “Oh no, oh no, oh no, vomiting blood, that's a bad sign, a really bad sign.”

Luna felt mortified, any words of hers died in her throat, another book hit her.

Sparkle bit down on the rubber bone, she had her forelegs wrapped around the thing and pawed at it with her rear legs, her hooves not finding purchase on account of being hooves.

“With all honesty, Your Majesty, I've never seen anything quite like it.” Spoke Dr. Sound Mind, Sparkle's new psychiatrist. “I mean, the ADHD is obvious, but other than that? Much of the symptoms you describe would fit ASPD but after talking to her, that doesn't quite fit.”

Celestia nodded, “I had already diagnosed her with those.”

“Diagnosed? I didn't know you had a licence.”

Celestia made a sharp look at the mare.

Dr. Mind flinched. “I'm sorry Your Majesty, I didn't mean anything by it.”

“But I didn't bring her to you to confirm my diagnoses, I brought her because of her ...”

“...uh, wolfiness, Your Majesty?”

Celestia scowled, “Yes, her 'wolfiness'.”

“Well, uh, as I was saying. I haven't seen anything like it, never even heard of anything close, either. The closest I can think of is a filly – not much older than Twilight here – down in Ponyville who seems to think she's a dog. But she isn't ... lucid, like young Twilight here. She doesn't kill and eat the small animals she 'hunts' either.”

“Yes, her hunting. It is getting out of hoof. She has killed dozens of creatures from the castle gardens, songbirds, squirrels, rabbits, ducks, even a snake and a turtle. And when I stop her from eating them, she complains that she's hungry, despite the fact that she often refuses to finish her meals. And then there's the howling at all hours of the night and the biting ponies and you've seen how she trots, it's inequine and makes her classmates nervous. I'm at my wit's end, doctor.”

“Yes, it's all very strange, Your Majesty. But ... I don't know if I can help you.”

“But, I need you to fix her. I need her, she's the one. She can't be this.”

“I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but I can't in good conscience recommend an intervention when I don't even know what's wrong.”

“Don't know what's wrong?!” Sparkle's bone lit up gold and floated up between the mares, Sparkle, hanging from it with her teeth, started growling, “This,” Celestia gestured with a wing at the hanging filly, “This is what's wrong.”

“You misunderstand me, Your Majesty, I just mean that without a good diagnosis, any intervention might turn out to be counterproductive.”

“So there's really nothing you can do for me.” Celestia sighed,

“I mean, we could conduct a long term study.”

“And how long would that take to fix her.”

The psychiatrist looked at Celestia in alarm, “Uh, nopony could know, Your Majesty, this is completely novel. If we're lucky we might get a treatment in a decade.”

“'We might get a treatment in a decade'? No, that isn't good enough.”

Doctor Mind took a step back, “Your Majesty, you can't force these things.”

“Well, luckily, I happen to have a treatment of my own.”

“You do?!”

“Unfortunately, it's classified, my good doctor.” Princess Celestia turned to Sparkle, “Come on Twilight, we're leaving.”

Sparkle didn't move.

“I said, we're leaving, let go of the bone, it's not yours.”

The bone started shaking up and down, Sparkle held on tight and started growling again.

“It's okay Your Majesty, she can ...” the doctor was silenced by a look from Princess Celestia.

Sparkle felt Princess Celestia's aura surround her tail and pull.

There was a horrible tearing sound as the rubber tore underneath her teeth.

The bone was levitated over to the psychiatrist, “The crown will pay for a replacement.”

“You don't need to do that, Your Majesty, it's a chew toy. That's what it's for.”

Princess Celestia trotted out the door levitating Twilight by her tail as Doctor Mind examined the toy.

Just as Princess Celestia was about to close the door she was stopped by the doctor's voice.

“Your Majesty, wait ...”

“Yes, doctor?”

“Um, Twilight's teeth ... they're very sharp ... yes?”

“I am well acquainted with the sharpness of Twilight's teeth doctor.” Princess Celestia used one hoof to lift the fur on her other foreleg, showing the faint scar tissue from when Sparkle had bitten her yesterday.

“Well, I'm no zoologist, Your Majesty, but correct me if I'm wrong. In animals, sharp teeth usually implies that the animal in question is a predator, as in it eats the flesh of other animals.”

Celestia gave the mare a blank look, “That is the case, yes.”

“And ponies are animals.”

“Yes, and how is this relevant?”

Doctor Mind met Princess Celestia's gaze for a moment before shamefully looking down, away from Princess Celestia.

Princess Celestia shook her head before slamming the door with her magic.

The following trip through the streets of Canterlot was the most humiliating one Sparkle had ever experienced, her head floating uncomfortably close to the flagstones as Princess Celestia dragged her by her tail, never even bothering to look back at the filly.

Fifteen minutes later Sparkle was wilting under Princess Celestia's cold gaze in said princess's sitting room.

“I know what you are going through, Twilight.”

No, you don't, Twilight wanted to say, but she couldn't contradict Princess Celestia.

“I was once in a very bad place, much like you are.”

I'm Hungry.

“A mare who I cared very deeply for betrayed me,” Celestia had a bitter look, “She tore my heart out and stomped it with both hooves.”

'Irony' used to be one of Sparkle's favourite words, but it didn't seem so fun anymore.

“I was a wreck, but then I invented a very special kind of meditation. One that let me kill all those bad, nasty feelings so I could be free of them. That meditation is what I'm going to show you, how to meditate away all your difficulties so you can be a normal and happy little filly.”

But I don't want to 'meditate my difficulties away', I want food.

“Now listen closely, Twilight. The pony mind is an infinite, divine and wondrous thing, but unfortunately it is trapped within our limited and fallen flesh, constrained with Demiurgic power. These meditations represent the first step in breaking that power.”

And thus Princess Celestia's strange illogical lecture lasted for an hour before Princess Celestia led Sparkle in horrible mind-bending mental exercises that made her feel like she was tearing her very psyche in twine.

Sparkle lost track of time and before she knew it she was back in her dorm room, under her bed, shivering in terror and wrongness.

There was a knock at the door.

Sparkle ignored it.

There was another knock.

Sparkle still ignored it.

“Twilight, I know you're in there.” Spoke a familiar voice.

Sparkle got up and opened the door, “Doctor Mind, what are you doing here?” she asked loudly.

The psychiatrist made a shushing gesture and whispered, “Hello, Twilight, may I come in?”

“Uh, okay.”

The mare slipped into the room and closed the door, she turned to Sparkle, “I have something for you.” The doctor lit her horn and levitated a dozen small identical cans out of her saddlebags, each having the image of a smiling puppy on it.

Sparkle tilted her head in confusion until the mare cracked one of the cans open.

The filly pounced on the can like the starving beast she was.

It tasted horrible, but that didn't matter, Sparkle was so hungry.

Luna came to, not in Twilight's dream, as she expected, but in the familiar starscape of the Realm of Dreams.

The moon princess was paralyzed, barely able to comprehend what she had seen. How could Celestia have become so cold, so cruel, as to do such things to a foal. And that 'meditation', it was more akin a novel method of torture than a tool of therapy.

Luna didn't want to believe that her perfect big sister could even be capable of such things.

But she could.

As much as Luna hated herself for it, she could.

Celestia had always had a certain ... 'conceit' was the word often used by the few ponies who spoke frankly with Luna.

Her sister would get a certain idea about how things are, and nothing short of catastrophe would disabuse her of that notion.

One of Luna's first memories was of a four year old Celestia playing with a block puzzle, the foal had gotten it in her tiny little mind that the cube block went in the circular hole and nothing their parents told her could change her mind. She spent nearly an hour literally forcing a square peg into a round hole, not giving up until the board had snapped.

Luna still remembered the proud face the young filly had at 'solving' it, as if she hadn't just broken a toy that their father had lovingly built for them.

It was an acceptable flaw in a four year old.

But Celestia had never grown out of it; Luna didn't know whether it was a side-effect of their ascension at such a young age, or just the fact that all the adults the sisters met would instinctively defer to the prepubescent alicorns' wills.

In truth, neither of the sisters knew why precisely they had become alicorns. Was it Destiny? Harmony? A random fluke? Or even one of Discord's many 'pranks'?

Nonetheless Celestia had taken it as a sign from a higher power that the two fillies' were destined to save Ponykind from the Mad God's Reign.

And, well, to her sister's credit, they did.

And then after that the surviving nobles demanded that the two sisters – still prepubescent despite the many years, slow aging a quirk of alicornhood – become their Sovereign Princesses.

Celestia accepted on both sister's behalf and decreed that Everfree – the one city that had been spared the deprivations of Discord, nestled deep in the hostile forest of the same name – would be the new nation's capital.

The rest is, as they say, history.

Perhaps in a better world Luna would have been able to temper Celestia's worst excesses.

But Luna had never been a strong mare.

Luna had never been a brave mare.

Luna had never been a good mare.

It was why she had made Her.

Where Luna was a coward, Moony was brave.

Moony would not have let Celestia walk over her.

Moony would not have stayed silent when Celestia did something that hurt ponies.

Moony would not have watched as all the castle's many generations of stallions got chewed up and spat out by Celestia's hangry, gluttonous cunt.

Luna's thoughts were broken by a loud explosion in meat-space, launching her sleeping body, and bed, at her bedroom wall.

The door to Luna's quarters burst open as two of her Night Guard entered, spears drawn, “My Princess, are you okay.”

“'M'fine.” The lunar princess grunted, crawling over smashed remains of her upturned bed and standing unsteadily on her hooves.

There was a brief pause before all three mares slowly approached the small crater in Luna's bedroom floor.

In it laid a single papyrus scroll bound in a ribbon that was a familiar shade of purple.

Luna lifted the letter in her magic, that pony is terrifying, he accidentally overpowers a long range teleportation enough that it lands with a blast like a bomb.

Luna opened the letter to see absolutely terrible hornwriting, but Luna was a bureaucrat by trade, and had a lot of experience dealing with poor writing. This was far from the worst she had seen.

'Dear Princess Luna,

I couldn't stop it, you weren't safe there, had to get you out, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry ...'

Luna stopped reading and counted the 'I'm sorry's, finding that the phrase was repeated precisely 37 times. A numerologically significant number, or just how many times the stallion could fit it on the page? With Twilight it could be either, or both.

Luna shook her head, casually shredding the letter with her magic.

“We need to talk to our sister.” she said, trotting unstably out of her chambers.

As Luna made the five minute journey, she did everything she could to recall the memories of a scared, hungry little filly, using them to stoke her righteous indignation.

By the time she had gotten to Celestia's tower, she was furious, angry enough that her formerly starry mane was glowing white with moonlight, her breath was coming out clouded as her very presence dropped the ambient temperature below freezing and her hoofsteps were leaving a trail of rime and frost.

“Halt.” Shouted one of those silly little stallions Celestia called her guard, as he and his comrade – both earth ponies – blocked Celestia's chamber doors with their cute little spears.

Luna didn't even slow down, merely reaching out with her wingtips and levering the obstructions out of the way.

Apparently, whatever meagre training they get hadn't prepared them for alicorn strength, as, clearly, neither guard expected to be moved so easily.

One managed to regain his footing after stumbling, the other did not and fell on his dainty muscled flank.

Luna didn't spare either a glance as she used a single hoof to slam open both doors without breaking stride.

Luna stormed up to Celestia's bed, placed her forehooves under its frame and heaved. Dooming Celestia's bed to the same fate as her own.

There was a groan from the shattered pile of wood and fabric, Celestia's head poked up.

“Celestia, we needest to speak with thee.”

Celestia turned to her furious sister, “Luna, what subject is so pressing that you come to my room and accost me at ...” Celestia cast a timekeeping spell, and frowned, “4:37 in the morning?”

“Twilight.”

Celestia sighed, “You know why we can't let him turn back. You were there. When ponies almost went extinct. Remember what we had to do.”

“Thou knowest that we never agreed that such methods wert necessary.”

“Yet, in the end, you are just as guilty as I.”

Luna flinched back as if struck, a small bit of her anger doused under shame. “This is not about his transformation.”

“Oh?” Celestia gracefully extricated herself from her bed and stood up to her full height. “What is it, my dearest little sister, does somepony have a little crush?” Celestia waggled her eyebrows as she looked down at Luna.

“What? No!” Luna lied, “Of course not.”

“I've known you for too long for such a lie to pass.” Celestia smirked, “That's why you're here. To stake your claim. You've grown so bold, I'm proud of you.” Celestia paused, “Well, you needn't have bothered, I haven't taken a stallion to bed since your banishment and I have no intention to start now. Even if young Twilight does make for a pretty colt.”

Luna pushed down her embarrassment, costing another gout of anger, “'Tis about his foalhood.”

Celestia frowned sadly, “Twilight was such a sad story,” A tear ran down her muzzle, “Her mother, you see, was a very nasty mare. The filly came to me in such a state; it took everything I had to put her together again.”

“Thou wert the one who broke her.”

Celestia recoiled before taking a sad expression, “Please, Luna, you know not what you speak.” Celestia sighed, “I know my methods could be seen by some as harsh, but she had been expelled from seven schools prior to becoming my apprentice. She knew Dark Magic. An eight year old filly knew Dark Magic.”

“Thy 'methods' hurt her.”

“My methods were necessary.”

“So thou say.”

“I helped her, it was my intervention that made her better. It's been more than a year since her last episode.”

“Sane ponies have not 'episodes'”

Celestia nodded sadly, “And Twilight isn't sane, never has been. Did you know that, early in her apprenticeship, she went around hunting small animals for sport? Do you have any idea how twisted a pony has to be to do that?”

“She wast hunting for food.”

Celestia scoffed, “You really think I would ever starve my own student? CSGU has been hiring cutting-edge experts in the field of nutrition science to build food plans that give a growing pony everything she needs for as long as that scientific field has even existed.”

“Clearly, something wast missing.”

“What could she possibly need from small animals that she couldn't get from pony food.”

Luna paused, she honestly had very little knowledge of predator nutrition, “Meat has a lot of ... things ... that art not found in plant foods.”

“None of which are necessary for a pony's health, many of which ponies can't even digest properly.”

Luna didn't know what to respond with.

Celestia leaned down to stare in Luna's eyes, “What brought this on, dear sister? I'm glad that you are taking interest in my student's well being, but even you have to admit that you have a habit of tilting at windmills.”

Luna wanted to respond; she wanted to tell Celestia about the tortured memories of a filly who only wanted to make her teacher proud; she wanted to correct Celestia that not all ponies were herbivores, that thestrals subsisted off meat and fruit; she wanted to repudiate Celestia for that hellish torture of 'meditation' she had devised and inflicted on a foal.

But, Luna was not a brave mare.

I'm sorry Twilight. Luna broke into sobs.

Celestia wrapped her wings about her sister in a deep hug, “Sh, sh, sh, you don't need to cry Luna. It'll be okay.” Celestia nuzzled the smaller mare, “How about this, you go to bed early and when you wake in the evening we'll talk about whatever concerns you.” Celestia lied.

Chapter 3: A Difficult Morning

It was Zero Dark Stupid in the morning.

On the distant edges of Equestria's blurry borders, firmly in the territory disputed with the gryphons, there was a valley.

In the valley, there was a caravan encampment.

Overlooking the encampment there was a hill.

On that hill was a bush.

And in that bush there was a pale yellow unicorn stallion, concealed within the foliage under the darkness of night.

In front of the stallion lay an open case containing a mix of tubes, pipes and mechanisms.

Despite the darkness, practiced hooves – for any magic could reveal his presence – quickly assembled the components into a contraption that very few civilians in Equestria would recognize. And a disconcertingly small number of military personnelle as well.

Soon only three object remained in the case.

He grabbed the first, a rounded stainless steel cylinder, and set it's threads in position before spinning it; it made a short hissing sound before settling into place.

Then he grabbed the second – a flat, longish black box – and examined the top where a single olive green fletched dart – containing a powerful, fast-acting sleeping potion – was visible. He took the box and roughly pushed it into its slot, where it settled with a satisfying thunk.

Finally he reached both hooves to the last object and gently lifted it from its place. The object, a black tube that narrowed in the centre, was the most expensive single component of the lot. More expensive than the rest combined, in fact. It was a delicate device of a dozen lenses of the finest optical glass of Equestrian make.

He gingerly lifted the tube to its place along the top of his contraption and softly pressed down until it settled into place with a click.

He settled into position, his right hoof laying next to the triggerplate, and brought the scope to his eye. A thread of power to his Mark and the darkness was no longer a problem, a second told him that his scope was still zeroed, that it hadn't wandered from being jostled.

Or at least it hadn't wandered enough that it would matter for the dart gun.

He felt naked without his typical rifle. The dart gun would work for ponies or gryphs, but would be useless against any of the larger beasties that stalk these woods.

He scoped in on closest of the guards of the camp.

He flicked his ear in a practised motion, “Eta Actual, this is Eta Overwatch, I am ready and in position, Over.”

=Heard and understood, Eta Overwatch, Out.= Came a crackling voice directly into his ear.

A couple moments passed.

=Eta Team, this is Eta Actual, role call, over.=

=Eta Actual, this is Eta Burn, hear you loud and clear, over.=

“Eta Actual, this is Eta Overwatch, hear you loud and clear, over.”

=Eta Actual, this is Eta Night, hear you loud and clear, over.=

=Eta Actual, this is Eta Moth, hear you loud and clear, over.=

The was a pause.

=Eta Red? role call, over.=

=...ry, buck, still learning to use this thing, uh, over.=

=Please, do not swear on the radio, Eta Red, over.=

=Sorry, over.=

=This is role call, Eta Red, over.=

=Oh, right, um, Eta Actual, this is Eta Red, hear you loud and clear, over.=

=Eta Actual, this is Eta Sword, hear you loud and clear, over.=

=Eta Team, this is Eta Actual, hear you loud and clear. Remember Eta Team, rules of engagement are non-lethal capture, lethal force is only permitted in cases of imminent mortal peril. Most of the tangos are asleep, and Eta Night has made sure that will be unlikely to change. You already know the plan, attack will be on my order, out.=

Several long minutes passed.

=Eta Team, you are cleared for attack, out.=

Sir Crack Shot, sniper for Eta Team of the Twilight Guard, rolled his hoof over the triggerplate causing his weapon to release a dart with a soft 'pft'.

Through his scope he saw his shot hit home as the mare on guard suddenly sprouted some fletching from her neck. She looked confused for a few seconds before the potion took effect and collapsed boneless to the ground.

The stallion quickly aimed his sights at another guard ...

Princess Twilight Sparkle's return to wakefulness was a slow, difficult and ungraceful affair; the jealous claws of sleep were glacially slow to relinquish their grasp.

Twilight groaned, her voice strangely deep, before rolled over and accidentally flopped ungainly off the bed, bringing the sum total of her covers with her.

“What the buck even happened yesterday.” she spoke in a voice that was decidedly unmarelike, pausing for several seconds before realizing, “Oh, right, stallion, that's a thing.”

It took several minutes for Twilight to disentangle himself from the sheets and stand to his hooves.

Groggily the new-made stallion padded over to the far wall and casually slid his horn into an inconspicuous hole in the wall. A hole that easily took his horn to the base despite its recent growth in both length and girth, there's a penis joke in there somewhere.

Twilight channeled a tiny thread of power and felt a distinct click.

He withdrew his horn and investigated the hornlock finding that it was both larger in radius and higher up on the wall than it had been yesterday. Twilight shrugged his wings and muttered incoherently about magic crystal castles.

The stallion took a step back as the wall opened, revealing to the world his greatest shame.

He lit his horn and picked up a can at random, levitating it out in front of him.

'Salmon Feast Pate', joy, he stared at the can of cat food for a second.

It was a hyppogryph import, of course.

Domestic carnivore pet food producers had a long and sordid history of quality control problems, everything from lead cans, to improbably high mercury content, to using rotten meat, to cutting the food with a wide range of different additives, many of which were synthetic and/or inedible. Equestrian carnivore pet food wasn't fit for consumption for pets.

And then there was gryphon imports; the problem with them was far simpler. Gryphon imports had a greater than optimal chance of containing the flesh of ponies or other sentient species.

Twilight had no desire to become an accidental cannibal.

One time Twilight had even stumbled upon cans of Gryphish dog food that had proudly proclaimed that they were 'made with 100% beef'.

How they had even gotten into the Equestrian heartland had baffled the princess. Sure, 'beef' was a word that very few ponies would ever need to know, but did nopony in that entire supply chain go 'huh, mystery meat product from Gryphonia, that's suspicious, I should look up what this word means'? It's Gryphonia, the nation that is currently in civil war because the king banned eating sapient species.

Twilight had, of course, anonymously reported it to the relevant authority, and then having received a helpful anonymous tip, organized a Crown Inquisition on the subject.

The tangled web of incompetence and malfeasance that Princess Twilight Sparkle and Inquisitor Piercing Truth had uncovered in the following months had been downright impressive.

But that's a tale for another time.

Shortly after arriving in Ponyville, Twilight had made sure Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity and Pinkie Pie also bought hypogryph pet food; couldn't have her friends feeding their pets either industrial byproducts or pony. Twilight had always found it somewhat ironic that Rainbow was the only one of the six to not end up with a carnivore as a pet.

Fluttershy had been the only of the four to confront the unicorn about her suspiciously comprehensive knowledge of carnivore pet food, rightfully pointing out that Owlowiscious was easily capable of feeding himself.

Twilight had, of course, blamed books.

It was surprisingly useful to be known as a bookworm know-it-all. If anypony wondered about Twilight having some knowledge, skill or ability that she really shouldn't, it's a book's fault.

'Why, yes, I did easily take fifth in an earth pony farming community race despite being a sedentary unicorn with no training in racing, but that has nothing to do with the magically altered musculoskeletal system designed for long term galloping with minimal energy use that I totally don't have; it's actually because I read a book about running once.'

Twilight chuffed in amusement before shaking his head. He was procrastinating, despite knowing that it was best to get this part over with quickly.

He did not want to be walked in on and have to awkwardly explain to a friend, why, exactly, he had a locked hidden closet full of canned dog and cat food.

Twilight used telekinesis to plug his nose, open the can and then levitate the repugnant paste down his throat.

He almost didn't gag.

The joys of being an obligate omnivore, thank you, ancestors.

The disadvantage of hyppogryph pet food is that it's all based on fish, and is therefor, somehow, even more vile than its land prey equivalent.

How, precisely, pet food producers made such a disgusting substance out of meat had always eluded Twilight.

A quick cleaning spell followed by the tin can being thrown in the recycling and Twilight closed the closet, recycling is getting somewhat full, need to get it to the foundry soon.

As Twilight loped away from the closet, maybe I should go out to the White-Tail Woods and bag myself a rabbit, or maybe even a deer ...

Twilight froze, yes, he had just idly contemplated murdering and eating an innocent sentient animal.

And the worst part is that he couldn't even muster the energy to hate himself for it.

Predator instincts, Twilight thought, reduced capability to feel empathy with creatures viewed as 'prey'. It was why almost all Equestrian diplomatic overtures to Gryphonia failed.

And also why House Twilight's had succeeded; woe be to the poor gryph who mistakes a Twilight for prey.

Damn lunatic wolf-ponies.

Twilight froze, oh no. His instincts were back. That was not good, very not good.

The stallion continued his stride and passed his balcony, noticing – for the first time – the bright mid morning sun. “Oh, buck, what time is it.” A quick spell answered that question, and his eyes widened in panic “oh no, oh no, oh no, it's ten thirty four, I'msolate for so many things.”

The stallion started to hyperventilate as his schedule appeared in front of himself in a flash; he stared at it noncomprehending for a second, “Eh, heh heh.” He laughed awkwardly, “Of course. I had Spike cancel everything yesterday.”

Thankfully being a hero of Equestria came with a certain flexibility with appointments. After all, you never know when some idiot decides that today was going to be the day that she tries to fulfill her lifelong goal of turning the moon into cheese.

No, that wasn't an absurdist hypothetical.

That had actually happened.

Three different times.

With three different mares.

Why does my life make Spike's comic books seem grounded in comparison?

Twilight had already investigated everything he could for connections between the three mares and found nothing.

He had some theories, but he desperately hoped he was wrong.

Twilight sighed and pawed his way to the master bath.

He was feeling strangely ... stable this morning.

Not good, certainly not good. His mind was a horrible tempest of nightmarish angst, but he did not feel like he was one bad day from going mad.

He felt paradoxically calm, like he was so bucked up emotionally that he looped around to being okay.

Twilight's resulting muttering on the 'integer overflow of emotional resonances' would have made any psychologist or computer scientist very alarmed were they there to hear it.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the kind of hypothesis Twilight could test without becoming guilty of Crimes Against Equinity.

Twilight stared into the mirror that he suddenly realized was in front of him.

Well, if he had to be a stallion, at least he wasn't an ugly one.

While Twilight had always lacked any ability to subjectively determine the attractiveness of stallions, she had been fascinated with the subject and had conducted many studies on it. Several of which had even passed peer review and were published in prestigious equinities journals.

So it was with that empirically derived expertise that Twilight could conservatively estimate his own physical attractiveness at or above the 99th percentile.

The first observation that came to mind was the fact that he was big. Like standing just shy of Princess Celestia big. And considering that he did not have the elder alicorn's willowy build, he certainly outmassed her. A quick estimate put his new weight at approximately 23% heavier than Princess Celestia.

23% heavier than the tallest – and formerly the heaviest – pony in existence.

Despite his size, he did not have the thick musclebound form expected of plus-sized earth stallions like Big McIntosh. Instead, he had tight corded muscles built for speed and agility.

Built for running down prey and enemy combatants alike with swiftness and ferocity that unicorn ponies really shouldn't be capable of.

At that thought he felt an almost overwhelming urge to sprint out of the castle and into the White-Tail Woods to put his brand new body through the paces. To see, precisely, what a fit Twilight alicorn was capable of.

The land speed record was something like 97 km/h, he could crush that easily.

Instead Twilight padded a circle in front of the mirror, examining the rippling power in his muscles, visible even under his thick purple coat of shaggy fur.

Once he had come to a stop, he examined himself from top to bottom.

His horn was almost as long a Princess Celestia's, and significantly thicker at the base; he leaned forwards to examine the tip, finding it sharper than he could discern.

His ears – slightly more pointed than the equine norm – had grown proportionally to his face and were perked forward in an alert posture.

His eyes – with narrower pupils than would be expected at this light level – had grown a bit but were now proportionally smaller.

His muzzle, undoubtedly a stallion's, was both longer and more angular. It was – of course – also filled with a sharp dentition more fitting a wolf than pony.

His chest tuft was thick. A trait typically considered more desirable in mares, but not undesirable in stallions.

He smirked, Rainbow had a tendency to accuse Applejack of being a 'tuftlet', who would then call the former a 'marelet'. This usually resulted in the two mares wrestling themselves into the nearest mud puddle.

His wings were – as expected of an alicorn – big; he extended one wing to full length, then the other. Wow, even he was impressed, his span completelyeclipsed Princess Celestia. It wasn't that surprising considering that stallions had proportionally larger wings than mares among pegasi, and alicorns likewise had proportionally larger wings than mortal ponies. But, damn, that didn't prepare him for their sheer magnitude.

It would make flying in tight quarters ratherdifficult. But, as a Twilight, he would be better on his hooves in such a situation anyways, doubly so with his earth pony abilities.

And finally there was his brand spanking new reproductive system. And, well, it seems that horns and wings were not the only parts of an alicorn that were disproportionately larger than mortal ponies.

He experimentally oscillated his hindquarters back and forth, watching his testes swing in the mirror. He now understood why so many stallions chose to wear bras, although alicorn strength and durability meant he didn't explicitly need one.

Hmm, he wondered if Rarity made ballbras, it would have to be one of her more discreet services. He examined his testicles and found himself doubting there even wasa letter cup size for his ballsiness.He certainly would need a custom piece.

Rainbow Dash apparently found Twilight's ability to determine a stallion's cup size at a glancehilarious, despite it being a rather simple estimation of volume; Twilights had really good spacial reasoning.

And then there was his sheath. And, well, if his rough extrapolation based on the studies he had read was anywhere near correct – there was an unreasonable amount of literature on every aspect of the male reproductive system – then what was contained in that sheath could be classified as a lethal weapon.

No, Twilight was not exaggerating, there was a statistically significant portion of marekind that wouldn't survive an encounter with what Twilight was packing.

Wow, that's a morbid thought.

The only way to be 100% sure was to stick to mares who are either large or very durable. So alicorns, plus-sized mares and Rainbow Bucking Dash.

Hay, the mare may be smaller than average, but Twilight had seen her plow through a copse of trees at near Mach speeds and be fine.

Honestly, Twilight wasn't entirely certain the mare actually was mortal.

Unfortunately, Twilight had never gotten the chance to study the chromatic pegasus' abilities in detail. She was just too good at escaping restraints.

Nonetheless, Rainbow Dash had a distinct durability – and flexibility – that made her a valid potential mate for the oversized stallion.

And now he was idly considering who he might be able to have coitus with. Calm down Twilight, you've been a stallion for less than 24 hours.

Though, he had to be honest, he certainly didn't hate the idea.

In fact, he found he actually enjoyed the thought experiment.

And wasn't that a novel feeling.

Twilight's stared vacantly at the mirror, consumed by this new, captivating rumination.

recoiled

Twilight padded up to the door to the bedchambers. It was a place he had been in but a couple of times as a filly. Yet, despite how little time he had spent there, he remembered it perfectly; as a young filly, Twilight had made it her purpose to remember every single thing she could about the room.

But he was not here for the room, he was here for what it contained.

When Twilight opened the door, the first thing that struck him was the scent. It was the same scent that Twilight had smelled so many times over his childhood, enough that it was burned into his mind.

But this time something was different.

No this time he was different. That same scent now meant so much moreto him.

For it was the scent of mare, the scent of Princess Celestia.

Twilight entered the room and froze at what he saw.

Princess Celestia lounged on her bed, her regalia tossed haphazardly on the floor and her mane a solid pink; her natural colour was something that he'd only seen a couple times as a filly.

Celestia turned her head to look at him, past her bountiful flank, “Twilight, I'm glad you came.”

“You called Celestia? What do you need?”

Celestia smirked seductively, “What do you think?” she asked in a husky tone. before flagging her tail.

Twilight's mouth went dry as he stared at the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on. It was far from the first time that he had seen Celestia's privates; that was unavoidable, typically the only thing that concealed them was a semi-transparent tail that refused to obey gravity.

Back when he had been a filly it had just been another part of Princess Celestia.

Now it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

A moment passed and Twilight saw a tiny flash of pink. He gasped, Princess Celestia had winked at him. He had never seen her wink before.

Twilight took a uncertain single step, then another, kicking the door closed with a single hoof. Soon he was approaching the mare in a slow predatory stalk.

Celestia's eyes widened and her breathing skipped.

Twilight smirked, “Afraid, my prey?” he spoke a low, softly mocking tone.

Celestia shuddered in a confused mix of fear and arousal, her clitoris winking again.

A few more steps and Twilight was face to vulva with the solar princess. He took a deep breath, inhaling her strong musk from the source. He felt a strange, novel sensation from his undercarriage as a monster woke.

Celestia's plot wiggled slightly in front of him.

“Hmmm,” He chuffed in amusement, “Somepony's impatient.”

Another wiggle.

He let out another chuff before starting to exhale, blowing air onto Princess Celestia's most intimate place.

The mare shuddered, her shy little clit made itself known again.

But Twilight was expecting this; before it could escape, he darted his head forward and caught the tiny little thing between his lips.

Celestia whinnied loudly and her whole body shook as she coated Twilight's face in her thick musky come.

Twilight purred, letting go of the small organ, “Somepony's tightly wound.”

He took a couple steps back and glanced downwards at the fully hardened phallus; ready to claim his first mare.

Twilight lifted his left hoof and stepped onto the bed, following it with his right, lifting his chest to straddle the princess.

Twilight stalked forward, covering the less massive mare in his bulk; his penis pressing into her dock before sliding forward along her back.

Celestia shuddered in arousal but said nothing.

He leaned down, purring like a lawnmower, and whispered in Princess Celestia's ear, “How much do you want to be mine?”

Celestia let out a breathy moan, “Twilight” she said in a tiny voice.

Twilight retreated slightly, bent his head down to the back of the mare's neck, opened his mouth and placed closed his teeth around Celestia's neck.

Celestia shuddered with a mix of fear and arousal.

Twilight bit down hard, hard enough to tear out the flesh of a mortal pony.

Celestia whinnied and] spasmed with terror, instinctively trying to push the stallion off.

But Twilight had been expecting that; he was heavier, stronger, had better leverage and had two hooves on the ground to Celestia's none. He drew on the strength of the Earth, maximized his inertia and crushed her panicked attempts to escape.

As she was held down her terror twisted itself into arousal as she was suborned by ancient traitorous instincts.

Celestia screamed in orgasm as her mind was assaulted with a maddening contradiction of sensations.

Twilight released the mare's neck, purring as he idly licked the blood from his teeth. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear in a tone that brokered no argument “Mine.”

Celestia shuddered.

Twilight withdrew from his conquered mare, his phallus sliding back along her body.

After several seconds of slow withdrawal, he ran out of mare and his member dropped without any thing to support it.

Twilight smirked and lit his horn, surrounding his lower head in telekinesis.

He leaned forward ever so slowly using magic to guide him to his target.

Then he made contact, his penis had made contact with the Princess Celestia's most intimate treasure.

“Is this what you want, princess?” He said, rubbing his head against the mare's vulva.

Celestia moaned in want.

Twilight smirked and pressed forward, his head pushing it's way in ...

Twilight recoiled in horror from the mirror, smashing into the far wall of the master bath hard enough to send spiderwebs of cracks across the crystal. A loud slapping sound emanatedfrom his erect phallus slapping against his barrel andechoed throught the small room.

He looked down at his enormous penis – even larger than he had feared – as he was overcome with disgust and self-loathing. How could he think of Princess Celestia like that?! How could he taint Equestria's pure, virginal princess with such dirty, twisted fantasies?!

Twilight laid against the wall, immobilized in a storm of emotions.

Secret Agent Sweetie 'Bon Bon' Drops nursed her third cup of coffee as she blearily gazed upon Lyra 'they're putting chemicals in the water to make the freaking frogs gay' Heartstrings.

The mare in question was blathering about a brand new theory, the exact kind of theory that she was famous for. This one about how the Howl was actually a psyop by the 'glow-in-the-dark CEI ziggers' to brainwash ponies in preparation for their wolf/pony crossbreeding program that they were clearly planning.

Unfortunately, this theory involved an in depth, explicit description of the utter degeneracy Lyra had dreamt of last night.

In the princesses' name, get a bucking therapist, Lyra. I really don't want to hear anything about a monster wolf 'knotting' you. Nor do I want to know why you have such intimate knowledge of canine anatomy.

Lyra didn't hear her roommate's silent plea and just continued talking.

Bon Bon glared at the green mare, envious of how awake the she was. She knew that Lyra had gotten even less sleep than she had. Where Bon Bon had been conscripted in the search due to her history as a 'retired' 'monster hunter', Lyra had spent most the night 'investigating', even after Vinyl Scratch had determined the howl to be artificial.

Honestly, if anything, learning that had made Lyra even more excited.

Hence 'CEI psyop'.

Bon Bon scoffed beneath her breath, Central Equestrian Intelligence was a farce. It was a daycare for useless noble daughters who had read far too many Rain Bond novels. Adult foals who had an excess of courage and a deficit of sense.

Everypony competent ended up either in SMILE or – unfortunately, more often – one of the noble houses' own intelligence agencies, particularly what were known as the big three.

There was House Platinum, famed for their subtlety. Every pony who went against the Founding Solar House – or even spoke of them particularly harshly – would be found dead in suspicious circumstances.

Circumstances that could never be conclusively tied to the house, or even to violence.

And then there were the endless series of coincidences that always seemed to benefit the house.

So much was their subtlety that actions of House Platinum could only be determined through inference and coincidence. As such, it was believed that House Platinum was involved in far more than what could be inferred from evidence.

Then there was House Twilight, bucking House Twilight. Some random clan of mountain unicorns who had been raised to nobility on a technicality, they were almost unknown to the general public. They were far from unknown to SMILE. Princess Celestia alone knows how such an irrelevant outcast house had managed to become one of the largest internal threats to Equestrian sovereignty.

But how they became a threat was immaterial, the fact was that they were one. Twilight lacked in subtlety compared to Platinum, but they made up for it tenfold in sheer brutality and ruthlessness. Bon Bon couldn't count the number of times that some poor agent had stumbled upon some complex that had been razed to the ground with fire hot enough to melt stone, with what little surviving the fire telling a tale of a great and terrible battle.

Of whatever the strange isolationist communities had done to offend House Twilight, no evidence remained.

And then there were the stranger things found in some of those sites; stories were told of strange unplaceable smells coming from nowhere, of places where space just wasn't quite right or dozens of other unexplainable phenomena.

Sweetie Drops had even heard of a case where a mare had been found fused into stone, without any magical residue that could explain how it happened.

Of course not all of House Twilight's activities were quitethat nefarious, they were relatively well known in law enforcement as bounty hunters and monster slayers. Although they were far too enthusiastic about such things.

Whatever information that SMILE interrogators had managed to extract from the house's captures had clearly spooked the SMILE higher ups; as SMILE had a universal 'do not engage' order applied to House Twilight operatives.

And then the house had somehow managed to get one of their members in the Gryphon Senate, apparently the younger sister of their Head of House.

While it was not technically treason for a noble house to obtain a position in a foreign government – at least if Equestria wasn't at war with the government in question – but it was extremely unusual. And it was even more unusual for gryphons to appoint a pony senator.

Even stranger, what few intelligence assets SMILE had in Gryphonia indicated that House Twilight was actively involving themselves in the gryphon's most recent civil war.

Only the most desperate or naive of pony mercenaries got themselves involved in gryphon conflicts; gryphons ate ponies.

And then there was House Hurricane, the Founding Pegasus House. While they lacked Platinum's subtlety and Twilight's brutality and were – quite frankly –significantly sloppier than either, they were brazen in a way that neither house was. Where Platinum operated in a way that was almost impossible to track and Twilight largely stuck to the margins of Equestria where law barely existed, Hurricane openly acted against their enemies in Equestria's heartland.

Even worse, the pegasus house always managed to avoid any repercussions for their actions.

It was ... infuriating.

Just three weeks ago, a SMILE agent investigating one of House Hurricane's more suspicious businesses had been found dead with her throat slit in her apartment in Manehattan; the subsequent criminal investigation into the murder had then been buried.

Sweetie Drops hadn't known the mare, but she was one of our own.

And Princess Celestia knows that SMILE had neither the marepower or the resources to openly act against a major noble house.

We're barely managing to keep the country together as it is. It's like Equestria is actively trying to rip itself to pieces.

It was common practice for SMILE agents to keep three bottles of nice champagne in case they ever manage to nail any of the three major houses on proper treason charges.

And then there were other threats.

The thestrals had recently returned. And by 'returned', Bon Bon meant that they had invaded Equestria in order to aid in the dreaded Nightmare Moon's conquest.

She honestly had no idea what Princess Celestia was thinking when she integrated the tribe's lands into Equestria as a distinct duchy sworn only to Luna. From what she heard from other SMILE agents, the thestrals had – in general – not accepted Luna as the same pony as their 'Night Mistress'. In fact, most professed – in secrecy – that they believed Luna to be some twisted Celestine trick.

But, well, Princess Celestia knows best, right?

And then there was the crystal ponies. What a nightmare. 2000 years out of date and from a militarily imperialistic city state. The first emigrants had just left and they were already causing problems wherever they went. Challenging mares to duels – or just outright stabbing them – for whatever esoteric things caused crystal ponies offence.

Were these even the same ponies who protected their nation from the biting cold of the north with a heart shaped artifact powered by love and happiness?

And then there was the external threats.

One couldn't forget the filthy changelings, impersonating good ponies and stealing their love. SMILE had been running itself ragged since the invasion, but had little to show for it. Only a hoofful of the monsters had ever been identified and captured in the two years since the invasion. And none of them had been willing to talk. SMILE had no idea the actual magnitude of the threat posed by the bugs.

Of the surroundinglegitimatenations, only Zebrica was stable enough, subtle enough, and had grievances against Equestria enough – although, Princess Celestia alone knows what those were – to engage in espionage.

Unfortunately the Zebras were actually very good at this espionage game. Their actions had always blindsided SMILE ...

“You're not listening to me at all, are you?”

Bon Bon shook her head, “I'm sorry, I'm just tired, Lyra.”

“Well, I was explaining how this is all a plot to breed a new race of wolfponies to supplant us.”

Bon Bon rolled her eyes, “Wolves can't breed with ponies, Lyra.”

“That's what they want you to think.”

“If they could, everypony alive today would be already be part wolf. And, Lyra, wolfponies don't exist.”

“What?”

“How do you think prehistoric ponies managed to domesticate their top predator?” Bon Bon waggled her eyebrows, “It's called 'Animal Husbandry' for a reason.”

“This changes things.” Lyra's eyes widened in almost religious realization as she muttered incoherently for a bit before jumping up and shouting, “Maybe this is what we were meant for!” she lifted her conspiracy board in her magic and galloped down to the basement.

Bon Bon sighed before slamming her face into the kitchen table, “Buck.”

It was a miserable ball of self loathing disguised as a pony that stepped out of Prince Twilight Sparkle's chambers.

The shower had helped a bit, and thankfully the monstrous pillar of flesh that was his penis had hidden itself away again.

But he couldn't forget the extremely vivid and deviant fantasy he had about Princess Celestia. He couldn't forget how much certain parts of him had gloried in it.

Princess Celestia was the axle upon which his overwhelming angst spun. Lust and Disgust, Joy and Misery, Pride and Self-Loathing, Rage and Hopelessness, Loyalty and Betrayal, Love and Hatred.

I don't Hate Princess Celestia, I can't Hate Princess Celestia.

Yet even as he thought those words he knew it was a lie. There was a part of him that absolutely did Hate Princess Celestia.

It was not a small part.

His mind was assaulted by barely remembered memories of humiliation, of confusion, of horrible guilt, of Pain beyond Pain.

Twilight stalked down the hallway, his hoofsteps causing rumbling and cracking in the crystal beneath him, as he idly traced the path to the castle's kitchen.

He got to the end of the hall, approaching the balcony and, without even stopping, pounced onto the railing and threw himself off.

He barely opened his wings as he fell, certainly not enough to slow his fall, and hit the ground hard, his hooves making a loud thunderous bang as they collided with the crystal floor.

Most ponies would be hurt from such a fall, but it would take more than that to trouble a Twilight. A Twilight's body was designed for efficient absorption and release of potential energy.

Most ponies would be hurt from such a fall, but it would take more than that to trouble an alicorn. Alicorns possessed a robustness entirely beyond mortal ponies.

Prince Twilight Sparkle was both.

He stood up from his landing pose – not unlike those in Spike's comic books – and stalked forward bleeding the excess tension out with every step.

Twilight paused.

He turned around and stared at the cracked floor where he had landed, then to the balcony from which he had jumped, then to the grand staircase, then back to the floor ...

Twilight's cyclical staring was broken by a low whistle.

“Whew, Sparkles, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing you Twilights do that.”

Twilight looked to the side to see the twins, identical but for manestyles – well, and Cutie Marks, but black marks on black coats didn't help much – approaching him.

As the twins approached, Shadow saw the tears in the alicorn's eyes, “Oh, buck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way.”

Twilight lifted a wing in a dismissive gesture, “It wasn't anything you said.”

“Oh, right, that's good then.”

Umbra rolled her eyes, “What my sister meansto say is: what's got you so down?”

In response to Umbra's question, Twilight broke down, babbling out the horrible, perverse things he had imagined doing to Princess Celestia.

Fifteen minutes later, Twilight finally collected enough courage to finally meet the undoubtedly judging eyes of his twin cousins.

Except their eyes weren't judging, Umbra had a soft, slightly confused expression and Shadow ...

... well, Shadow panted audibly and drooled slightly as she stared into the distance with a glazed expression.

“Is that it?” Umbra asked gently, tilting her head.

“Is that it?!” Twilight asked hysterically, “I tainted Princess Celestia's image with my depraved desires.”

“Wait, are you accusing yourself of blasphemy?” Umbra stared at Twilight like he had grown a second head, “Are you a Celestine Cultist? I thought Celestia outlawed the alicorn cults a thousand years ago.”

Twilight recoiled at the accusation, “What? Of course not. Everypony knows that Princess Celestia doesn't want to be worshipped. I wouldnever violate her wishes like that.”

Umbra stared at Twilight silently, like she didn't know how to respond to that.

“Holy buck, that was so bucking hot!”

Umbra, cuffed Shadow on the back of her head with her hoof.

“Hay, what was that for?”

“What Shadow's trying to say is that everypony has fantasies,” Umbra put a hoof over Twilight's withers, “You aren't 'wrong' or 'twisted' or 'depraved' for fantasizing about Celestia. I'm pretty sure that every stallion does that at least once, most significantly more that.”

“I don't. Have fantasies that is.”

Umbra paused, taking a second to realize what Twilight meant. “You didn't. And that's really abnormal Sparkle, you should have probably gotten it checked out. It could be indicative a deeper problem.”

“And Celestia would have been lucky to have you. If I could find a stallion to treat me like that, I could die happy.”

At that, Twilight broke out bawling.

Shadow looked to Umbra, “Hay, there's no way that could have been my fault.”

Umbra rolled her eyes, reached a hoof out and pulled her sister into the embrace with their large cousin.

Archmage Lady Twilight Aura, Captain of Eta Team examined the list levitating in front of her. The spoils of their little exercise were surprisingly numerous.

And thanks to House Twilight's Letter of Marque from the honourable King Geoffrey, it now all legally belonged to the Twilights.

From what they'd gone through so far, most of it was steel, either in ingot or blade. This was hardly surprising considering the cargo's destination.

But there were other things too. Including some things that had no business being shipped to a warzone.

Like, for example, the case of grape-wine they had just uncrated.

While Aura was far from an expert on the subject, she was pretty sure the bottles represented some relatively impressive vintage.

That if nothing else, told Aura that the intended recipient of this cargo was high ranking, likely a senator, perhaps even Senator Grackle, the rebel's pretender to the gryphon throne. A thoroughly nasty drake.

House Twilight would find a use for everything acquired today.

The ingots of steel would be graded and allocated to whatever project needs them most. One could never have enough steel.

The weapons would likely be sold to the loyalist gryphs, after all, they were forged for gryphon claws. Aura chuffed in humour, it was amusing that weapons slated for rebel talons would soon be in the grasp of loyalists.

And the grape-wine would probably be drunk, many a Twilight did like their booze.

At that moment Aura's younger sister Lady Twilight Flare lifted a bottle of wine with a impassive look on her muzzle, “Grape-wine.”

Aura smirked, “Most ponies just call it 'wine'.”

“An inferior copy of the genuine article.”

Aura rolled her eyes, “The oldest confirmed cultivation of grapes for the production of wine was in the Republican period, mushroom wine was developed in the Dark Age by the early Twilights, likely due to the difficulty of cultivating grapes in Dark Age conditions.”

“Doesn't mean it's not an inferior drink.”

Aura made a noncommittal noise, maybe House Twilight would be better of just selling the grape-wine, it'd be wasted on her members; what little thirst the Twilights had for the drink was more than sated by the couple small vineyards the house had bought several generations back.

“Are you certain you're happy with us, sister? You're not getting bored, being sidelined?” Aura glanced at Flare in concern, the mare wasn't really capable of non-lethal combat, “I could get you transferred to the front lines.”

“And if Eta Team finds something you can't handle?” Flare gave her sister a firm look, “No, you're not getting rid of me that easily.”

“If that's what you wish.”

There was a brief pause.

“Um, cousin Aura. I have some concerns.” came a voice Aura did not want to hear.

“That is 'Captain Aura' to you, Lady Swordcant.” besides Aura and Flare, Twilight Swordcant was the only Twilight in Eta Team.

She was also the member who Aura least wanted in her team.

“Sorry,” the mare said without any sincerity, “Captain Aura, I have some concerns.”

Aura raised an eyebrow, already suspecting exactly what than 'concern' might be.

Cant gave a pointed look at Flare.

Flare stared back impassively.

“Flare is my 2IC; you know what that means? It means that her authority is second only to my own. Anything that you can say to me, you can say to her.”

Cant looked at Aura, then Flare, then back, “It's about a team member.” she spoke in a hushed whisper.

Aura sighed, bucking branch Twilights, you'd think they're really Equestrians, “Let me guess, you are unhappy at your lack of seniority in this team and you are nipping at the hooves of the next up the totem pole in an attempt to climb?”

“I am a Lady of House Twilight. She's just some dishonoured commoner ranger.”

Clearly not in any way that matters, Aura grit her teeth, it's always great to know one of your subordinates is going around and digging up dirt on another, “I don't know what they teach you down in Fillydelphia, but here in House Twilight proper, this kind of underhoofed behaviour is unacceptable. The Twilight Guard is – and always has been – meritocracy. Do they have that word down in Filly?”

“Uh ...” Cant started to answer, but Aura cut her off.

“No, of course they don't.” Aura paused, “It means that Twilight or not, commoner or noble, everypony is given an equal chance to succeed, and that until you have proven yourself particularly competent – or incompetent – seniority is based on when you joined. As I recruited Sanguine to EtaTeam several days before you were assigned to me, she is your senior.”

“Sanguine Bladestorm – if that's even her real name – can't even use a radioproperly.”

“It is her real name,” The poor mare's parents were so-called 'traditionalists', of the 'hallucinogenic dream quest' tradition. Aura scoffed, “And, I'd wager that neither could you, until very recently. These ear-operated radios haven't even been in service for three years, and the Twilights of Filly couldn't have gotten their hooves on them any earlier than last year.”

Cant said nothing.

Honestly, hearing her own distant cousin connive against the unfortunate unicorn filled Aura with disgust. Almost as much disgust as she felt hearing of the many, many ponies – from parents, to former classmates, to the Royal Equestrian Ranger Corps, to the Crown – who had the gall to be shocked that a mare who had been given the name 'Sanguine Bladestorm' ended up having a Talent for violence.

As a military mare, born and bred, Aura had found the actions of RERC the most disgraceful. Fake Cutie Mark or not, they were the ones who brought a blankflank into combat; they were ultimately the ones that bore responsibility. But no, all they had given her was a court marshal for falsification of documents and a one-way airship ticket to Gryphonstone. Sent off to die a horrible death in obscurity.

And she almost had; she had been days away from being the prey for one of the gryph rebels' sick pony-hunts when Eta Team had saved her; she was the only survivor of her entire mercenary band, once 30 strong.

What was worse, is that the RERC report on the incident that had gotten the mare discharged had outright admitted that Sanguine had likely saved the lives of three of her fellow rangers in the gryph bandit attack. But that didn't matter to them because the mare had – in a moment of Talent induced hysteria – crawled into one of the bandit's disembowelled chest cavities.

It was things like this that meant that Aura couldn't help but hate Equestrians just a little bit. The Herd seems so friendly and welcoming up until somepony 'proves' herself to be 'sick' or 'wrong' or 'different'. Then she is rejected and left for dead. The Pack would never betray one of their own like that.

Aura stared at Cant with a withering glare, “I do not know why you were put on my team, but if it is to impress us, you are failing.”

Cant recoiled, at least she had the good sense to look ashamed.

Aura stared at the mare with a stern look.

“Hay, boss, look what we found.” Shouted a small blue unicorn as she galloped towards Aura, a large ingot levitated next to her in blood red magic.

Following along beside her at barely more than a trot – with her wings spread wide – was a tall, dark grey thestral mare.

Aura smirked, speak of the devil ... “What do you have there, Sanguine?” telekinetically accepting the ingot from the mare. Immediately Aura felt a weight to the metal; not a physical weight, it was actually quite light, but a mystical weight. Her eyes widened as she recognized the familiar blue tinge to the metal, “Is this ...”

Sanguine smugged, “Aye, mythril, fine, five 9's if you trust the marks.”

Aura gasped slightly, mythril was not cheap on a good day, fine mythril even more expensive. Even more, its use in high power enchantments meant that it was a highly controlled substance in Equestria; this ingot should not be in the possession of a bunch of arms smugglers going to the gryph rebels. “This smuggler caravan had to be going directly to Senator Grackle.”

The thestral mare, Lady Midnight Nocturne, smirked as she looked at the mythril bar, “Senator Grackle eez vant quite thee cock ring, yes?”

Sanguine laughed, looking between the large ingot and Midnight, “I fear you have gryphons vastly overestimated, Midnight. A gryphon's cock is a sad, ugly, twisted, little thing that pales in comparison to a stallion.”

Twilight Swordcant had a look of disgust on her face, “And, why do you know so much about gryphon ... members?”

Sanguine stared at the Twilight with a cold expression, “Because some of them get excited when they eat ponies alive.”

Cant huffed in offence, “What a horrible thing to say about a sapient species.”

The other four mares stared at her in disbelief.

“A horrible thing yes,” Aura spoke slowly, “but a true one nonetheless. What do they even teach you down in Fillydelphia? The entire reason why House Twilight is involved in Gryphonia is to eradicate the very ghastly practice Sanguine speaks of. The vile pretender to the throne Senator Grackle, the very gryph that this all ...” Aura gestured to the crates surrounding the five mares, “... was to be delivered to, would have it that 'pony-hunting' become an officially sanctioned sport in Gryphonia.” Aura stared a Cant, “He has even gone so far as to promise his would be gryphon subjects that he would send capture raids into Equestrian territory to capture prey for his sick games.”

The other four mares were silent.

“I hope I don't have to outright state how unacceptable House Twilight would find such a thing. We Twilights swore an Oath long ago, we fight and kill and die in the night so that the common pony can live in the day. Nothing gets to prey upon our ponies while even a single Twilight still draws breath. Anything that tries ... will ... be ... destroyed.” Aura was breathing heavy and her mane was starting to smoke.

Flare sauntered over and grabbed a lock of her sister's mane in her hoof, pulling it into the other mare's vision.

Aura looked at the smoking end of her own mane for a second before taking several slow, deep breaths, “Thank you sister.” she paused, “So this ...” Aura hefted the mythril bar slightly, “... had finally proven outright that – as we have long suspected – Grackle is being aided by some unknown Equestrian party. Mythril is far too valuable and far too controlled for any of the chucklebucks in this smuggler's posse to have acquired themselves. This has to come from some major party, likely a noble house, but we can't rule out some organ of the Equestrian government itself.

But, just as interesting as the origin of this mythril is its destined use. House Twilight has been hearing whispers that Grackle had found the Mythril Crown – some ancient crown famously worn be a handful of gryphon high kings and emperors, thought to be destroyed a thousand years ago – for a about the last month, but with this conspicuous bit of mythril being smuggled into Gryphonia, it seems likely that Grackle has found some unscrupulous mythsmith to make a forgery.

If my presumption is correct – and it usually is – then we've struck a massive blow against the filthy rebel cause, today. Even a major noble house like Platinum or Hurricane – curse their vile name – would balk at sending another ingot of mythril so soon after the last had been intercepted. So I figure that Grackle won't be getting his pretty crown very soon at all.”

“'Ah, az I said ...” Midnight lifted her wings to surround her head like a crown, “eez vor cock ring.”

That got a number of laughs out of the other mares, even Flare made a slight smile.

Aura shook her head with a smile, “I'd advise you against calling a male gryphon a 'cock' or 'rooster' unless you want to aggravate him. The proper term is actually 'drake'.”

“Like a dragon?”

“Oh, stars no, like a duck. Don't ever call a dragon a drake. They tend to object to the term, violently.”

There was a brief silence.

Sanguine trotted over to Flare seeing the bottle in her orange magic, “Is that 'Le Roi de Mane'?” Sanguine exclaimed as she stared at the bottle, “That shit's like ... a thousand bits or something per bottle.”

Aura was taken aback, “Ponies pay a thousand bits for a single bottle of wine?!” She looked at Flare in question.

Flare, who was leaning upright against a crate, looked back and shrugged her shoulders.

Aura shook her head, “Bucking nobles. More bits than sense.” Aura lit her horn and took the bottle from Flare and levitated it over to Sanguine, “Here, you can have this.”

Sanguine's eyes widened, “Really?!”

Aura gave a small nod to the mare.

“Oh, thank you so much, Captain Aura.” she accepted the bottle of wine with her red magic and reared back to hug the bottle with her forehooves, “I love you so much Le Roi de Mane.”

“I love you too, Sanguine Bladestorm.” replied the bottle of wine.

“Wut?”

Suddenly there was an amber flash and the small blue unicorn was crushed under the improbably thicc flank of a white pegasus mare with a ... sausage? ... Cutie Mark. That's an odd choice.

Aura looked at the white mare then the recently opened crate, “Dora, how?”

“I am stealf.” replied the mare.

Aura rolled her eyes and sighed, “Okay, Princess Lepidoptera, that's enough, get off her.”

“Okay ...” said the disguised changeling sadly before rolling off the smaller mare and flashing to her true form, a black and amber changeling royal who was missing the holes that ponies typically associated with changelings.

“Aaaaagh, by Princess Celestia's thunderous flanks, I got mare juice in my mouth!”

“Hmmm, yes, thee Tyrant Sun eez quite heavy. Ill suited for combat, yes.”

Aura smiled softly watching Sanguine drag her tongue against the ground as Dora pestered her about what was 'wrong' about her 'mare juice'.

=Eta Actual, please be advised, there is a hydra approaching from West North West. I would deal with it myself, but, well, dart gun, over.=

Aura flicked her ear, “Heard and understood, Eta Overwatch, we will deal with the hydra, out.” She looked over to Flare, “You up for a hydra?”

“Of course.”

Aura gestured with her head.

Flare wasted no time bolting north, wings of flame spreading from her back as she took off and disappeared in a blast of flame.

There was a couple moments of silence before the four mares and one changeling princess were treated to the distant sounds of explosive combat, maniacal laughter and singing.

Aura sighed, “Well, now that that is handled,” she levitated another bottle of wine to Sanguine.

The small blue mare eyed the bottle with suspicion, “Dora, where are Thing 1 and Thing 2.”

“My praetorians are guarding the prisoners, of course.”

Sanguine let out a breath and took the bottle in her magic, although she still held it slightly distant from her body.

Aura laughed under her breath, “Now, Lady Midnight, Princess Lepidoptera, I have some concerns. Both of your presence on this team representssome degree of danger to House Twilight.” Aura turned to the thestral, “Midnight, I'm going to have to ask you to stop referring to Princess Celestia as the 'Tyrant Sun'”

“Vhy? Seen thee fresco, yes. Twilight think no better ov Tyrant Sun than Thestralis.”

Aura placed her hoof on her brow and sighed. “Maybe, maybe not, yet you don't see me going around calling Equestria's God Princess a 'tyrant'. If you say such things around the wrong pony, you're going to get yourself investigated for lese majeste and possibly even treason.”

“Eet is not 'treason', owe no loyalty to 'Celestia'.”

“Okay, better. But wherever your personal loyalties lay, Celestia is still a Sovereign Princess.” Aura paused, “You can still use the term, 'Night Mistress' however, as most ponies are going to assume you mean Princess Luna.”

“Zis 'Princess Luna' eez not Night Mistress, she is Celestine plot to replace Night Mistress.”

“They will assume wrongly, and you will let them do so. Understood.” Aura glared at the mare.

The thestral withered under the glare, “Yes,”

Aura turned to the changeling, “Now, Princess Lepidoptera, you have to understand that, officially, Equestria is at war with changelings as a species.”

“That's stupid, mother's hive had no part in the idiot queen's invasion.”

Aura scoffed, “Of course it's stupid, this is Equestria we're talking about. The 'Royal Guard' that 'protects' Canterlot isactuallyPrincess Celestia's harem, and its members spend far more time on studding contracts than any training of military value. It's why they were so useless during the changeling invasion.”

“Vhat eez studding?”

Aura let out a dark laugh, “Prostitution with extra steps.”

“Eh?”

Aura sighed, “You know how there are many more mares than stallion?”

“Of course.”

“Just out of curiosity, how exactly do the thestrals deal with this fact.”

“Eet eez thee duty vor stallions, take many mares, have many voals. Eet vas thee last Command ov thee Night Mistress. To be 'Vruitvul and Multiply' een preparation vor her return.”

“Huh, really?”

“Vell ... vas more 'Nightsong, I name you Lord Nocturne, do not wait vor me, I vill be gone so many years. Have many voals, I be disappointed iv your line die out bevore my return', but vee got zee message.”

“'Nightsong Nocturne' huh, I guess he would be the progenitor of your house, then, Midnight.”

Midnight puffed out her chest, “He vas genius tactician, eet vas him who built thee stratagems that led uz to victory against the Celestine menace in thee Var vor thee Night.”

Huh, 'the War for the Night', I guess it makes sense that the other side would have their own name for it. “We Twilights also have plural marriages, but here's the thing, Equestrians don't. Each stallion marries a single mare.”

The thestral looked shocked at that, “Vhat?! Vhat about all zee mares who not get stallion?”

“That is where studding comes in. Mares without a stallion of their own would need to hire a stallion to impregnate her, a 'stud', like they're bucking dogs.”

Midnight scowled in disgust.

“But don't larvae come out wrong and holey if they are made without love? That's what mother says.”

Huh, that explains a few things, “'Foals', Dora, baby ponies are called 'foals'. And no, that's just lings, ponies don't have the same physiological dependence on love. Conception is a purely physical thing for us; well, physical and magical, but the feelings of the parents at time of conception have no bearing on the health of the foal. That said, the emotional needs of ponies start after their birth, so being raised without fathers certainly isn't emotionally healthy.”

“Vhat, but they have fathers?”

“Not legally. It's actually legally mandated that every studding contract includes a clause forfeiting all parental rights of the stud, a mare isn't allowed to even put the name of the stud on her foal's birth certificate, just the words 'contract stud'. Even more, any attempt by the stud to contact any of his 'sired' foals is extremely taboo, if not borderline illegal.”

Dora was horrified, “They would steal a father's love for his children?! To changelings, such love is sacrosanct. Why would they do that?”

“Uh ... I actually don't know why, we Twilights have never participated in that institution; it's always just been a weird and vile thing Equestrians do as far as we're concerned. I'm sure there's a few books in one of our libraries written by some Twilight who actually cared about the 'why' of it, though. I can help you find them when we get back to the manor.”

Dora looked away, “I'm not sure I want to know ...”

Aura nodded, “A wise decision as far as I'm concerned. It's often best not to stare into the abyss, it has a habit of staring right back.” Aura grimaced, “And the entire thing somehow gets worse actually. A couple hundred year ago, Equestria – in it's infinite wisdom – decided to rescind most of the restrictions on studding. Now a mare can hire a 'stud' when she's not in heat or even on contraception.”

“Heat? Contraception?”

Right, changeling, “Contraception a catchall term for anything that prevents a mare from entering heat or becoming pregnant: spells, devices, pharmaceuticals. And heat – or more properly oestrus – is the period of time that a mare is capable of producing foals, intercourse outside of oestrus cannot make foals.”

“We mares go kinda crazy in heat.”

“Thank you, Sanguine.”

“Like, 'I need to get a dick in me right now, at any cost', crazy.”

“That's enough, Sanguine.”

Dora stared into the distance in confusion, “But ...”

Aura smirked, “Kind of defeats the entire purpose, right? I don't quite understand the motive.” Aura lied, as much as she hated to admit it, she did understand the motive, completely. There was a small, dark part of her that wished, desperately, that she could just hire a stud and get just a modicum of companionship for a night; with how disastrous her past attempts at romance were, the prospect of a stallion that can't say no or run away in terror held a dark allure to the mare. Chastity is a Virtue, Aura, Chastity is a Virtue. “But I have it on good authority that intercourse is a very pleasurable activity.”

Dora rolled her eyes, “I know sex is good, mother was generous with her memories. But why would anyl ... anypony not want eg ... foals?”

Hmm, hereditary memory, or maybe telepathy? Interesting, this needs further study. “Foals are a bit more significant an investment of effort for ponies than ... eggs? ...”

Dora nodded.

“... than eggs are for changelings. A single pregnancy lasts almost a year, can be very hard on the mare and birth is very painful and very taxing. Some mares don't survive the process. And then after birth, things don't get much easier, foals are both completely helpless and an utter nightmare. Especially unicorn foals who have a tendency to emit a lot of wild magic. And well ...” Aura paused, “... Dora, you're three years old correct?”

“I'm almost four.” the changeling princess stated proudly.

The other three mares stared at Dora in shock.

“And you're considered an adult as far as changelings are concerned?”

Dora tilted her head back and forth in a so-so motion, “I'm a princess, I won't start becoming a queen until I'm mated, but if I was still a noble cast – or any other cast but royal – I'd be a full adult.” She fluttered her wings.

“Well, a pony doesn't get to that level of maturity until she's sixteen or so. Or even older.”

“Oh, wow, that's a long time.” Dora looked around to the four mares, “You're all really old.”

Aura chuckled, “Isn't your mother hundreds of years old?”

“Yeah, but mother is mother.”

Aura paused, “You said you used to be a noble?”

Dora nodded, “Yep, I remember it like yesterday. There was I, Lepidoptera, noble nymph changeling sitting in the creche and mother showed up and started talking about these weird creatures that looked like ponies but tasted like wolf who were waging war on the idiot queen. She said that they had contacted her and she thought they could be friends and asked me if I wanted to be a princess. And I said 'of course I want to be a princess', I mean it's like everyling's dream, to have your own hive, your own children.”

I guess changelings don't need to breath, I wonder how that works.

“And then a couple days in the metamorphosis pod and I'm a royal nymph – which makes sense, nobles are almost royals – and then several months later I'm a princess. And then I went to your Manor, it was so exiting, so many new ponies and wolves to meet and to taste. And then you said you had some open places on your Eta Team, and i thought, that sounds so fun. So here I am.”

Aura looked at the excitable changeling. She had not known that Dora had originally been a noble, the fact that Queen Odonata had gone out of her way to promote the ling before sending her to foster with House Twilight was very notable. From what the mare understood of changeling castes, nobles could do anything a princess could do, anything – that is –except metamorphose into a queen and begin laying eggs.

Dora was not sent to House Twilight merely to foster, she had been sent to House Twilight to marry. To marry and mate and start a new hive. Heh, it took House Twilight meeting a completely different species to finally have our first prospect of a political marriage.

Aura started idly wondering which stallions in House Twilight might make a good match for the bug-mare before shaking her head. The last thing poor Dora deserved was Aura's 'help' in matters of romance, stars know that she was useless at the subject. She might even transmit her 'curse' to the ling.

“So, Dora, as I was saying, as a changeling, you are – as stupid as it is – technically an 'Enemy of the Crown'. So when you are in public, you will have to be very careful about not doing anything that might tip anypony off. Understand?”

Dora frowned for a second but then gave a solemn nod, “I understand.”

“Good, now it isn't the end of the world if you're discovered, and, worst come to worst, as a high noble house, House Twilight has a certain latitude when it comes to the law. The resulting treason charges would be unlikely to stick, especially as we are the only Equestrian institution to actually be acting against the 'changeling threat' in any way, bucking useless Equestrians.” That last bit was muttered under her breath, “That said, House Twilight would prefer to avoid any potential treason charges if at all possible. You have full infiltrator training, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then you know how to go to ground if you're discovered?”

“Yes”

“Okay, we have assets, safehouses and/or operatives in most major cities, so if you are ever compromised you shouldn't have far to go before you're safe. Once we get back to the Manor, I will give you a good rundown of house Twilight's procedures for such an event.”

Sanguine tilted her head, “Isn't this kind of thing best covered before we go into the field?”

Aura tilted her head, “Maybe, but House Twilight believes that all our trainees should be exposed to combat early and often. All four of you have existing prior training, this mission was chosen for you because it was low risk and well ...”

A moment passed before Flare trotted into vision with a slight smile on her muzzle.

I have you down to a science sister. “Have fun, Flare?”

Flare only grunted in reply, but it was a happy grunt.

“The Hydra?”

Flare nodded as her smile took on the slightest degree of smugness

“...and well that mare,” Aura waved at her sister, “just killed a Hydra in single combat. Trust me, you're in good hooves with us.”

“I'm sorry, bucking what?” Sanguine shouted in disbelief. “The rangers have lost entire companies in hydra attacks! They're highly magic resistant, can heal from almost anything and have a horrible corrosive venom that can be sprayed like a breath weapon.”

Flare snorted contemptuously.

Aura waved a hoof, “I'll show you the corpse in a bit. We'll have to load it into the teleport array anyways ... don't want to let it go to waste. But as I was saying, this mission does not mean that your training is over, your training is just beginning. While I can't promise that any of you will ever be able to one v one a hydra like my sister here, House Twilight takes pride in making sure that our soldiers and operatives become the best them they can be. Each one of you is full of potential and both I and my sister eagerly await helping you realize that potential.”

Eventually Twilight Sparkle's crying tapered off. He hated how emotionally incontinent he now was.

“So, um, Sparkle, not to pry, but what's got you so worked up this time.”

“My penis's big.”

Umbra blinked, “Uh, what? I'm going to need a lot more context.”

In response Twilight focused on a muscle that he had only recently discovered and dropped his entire phallus out of its sheath.

Umbra averted her eyes, “Oh stars, Sparkle, what are you doing?”

Shadow lowered herself to examine the flaccid member and let out a low whistle, “Wow, Sparkles, you weren't joking; that is a big penis. A regular marebreaker.”

Despite himself, Twilight let out a dark laugh, “Yeah, a real marebreaker.”

Shadow paused, coming to the realization that the term was somewhat more literal in this case. “Wow, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way.”

“I did.”

There was a brief pause.

“Honestly, Sparkles, I have no idea what to even say. How is a mare even supposed to comfort her stallion cousin when he's self-conscious about his big ... fat ... cock?”

“Shadow!” Umbra shouted in outrage.

It was tense for a moment then the absurdity of the situation caught up to Twilight and he started laughing, quietly at first but getting louder over time.

Umbra backed away from the stallion, concerned at this development.

Eventually Twilight's laughing petered out, and he unstably stood up on his hooves, “Thank you Shadow, I needed that.” Twilight reached out a wing and patted Shadow on the withers.

Shadow, who was in the process of standing up, was sent to the ground by the heavy wing-pat.

“Well, what's for breakfast?” Twilight asked as he padded out of the room towards the kitchen.

Umbra stared at Shadow with a look of confusion, offended that Shadow's idiotic question had actually helped. “How?”

Shadow smugged at Umbra as she picked herself up off the ground with a groan, “Git good, scrub.”

Umbra scowled.

“Oh, and Sparkle, you seem to be dragging something. You should probably put that away.”

Twilight paused, realizing that he felt cold along the side of an appendage that his mind still wasn't sure where to place. He tightened a still mostly unfamiliar muscle resulting in an uncomfortable slurping sound and one of the strangest sensation he had ever experienced as his member went back into hiding.

Shadow, still smirking at her sister, wasn't looking where she was going and stepped her hoof into a slick trail of slime, sending her sprawling as her sole grounded forehoof slipped out from underneath her.

Umbra snickered at Shadow.

“Buck you.” Shadow bit her hoof at Umbra, tasting something that absolutely wasn't dirt.

A moment passed before Shadow realized what precisely she had just put in her mouth and started gagging and sputtering.

Umbra howled with laughter.

Several minutes and a couple cleaning spells later, three ponies trotted into the kitchen where Spike already had the table loaded with towers of pancakes.

Spike looked up from the table, “Oh, Twilight, are you feeling better today?”

“Yes, Spike, I think I am.”

Spike looked to the twins,

Umbra gave a grim shake of her head.

Shadow went walleyed and spun a hoof in a circle around her head.

Umbra hit Shadow with a hoof.

“Well, I'm glad to hear that,” Spike said hesitantly, “You hungry?”

“Famished,” Twilight stated, barely even sitting down before levitating an entire plate-sized pancake directly into his mouth. And then he grabbed another, and another, and another.

Soon, the alicorn had stuffed an entire pony's weight of breakfast patisserie down his nearly insatiable gullet.

“So, uh, Twilight. Now that this ...” Spike gestured at the stallion, “... is permanent, when are you going to tell them?”

“Tell who?”

“Your friends.”

“Oh,” Twilight froze, he had not yet considered that he would need to inform his friends of his change in circumstances.

How would they react? Would they no longer want to be friends with him? After all, he wasn't the mare that they had become friends with anymore. It was typically considered improper for a stallion to have such a close platonic bond with mares. Would any of his friends decide to distance themselves because of public stigma?

Even worse, he was now a very attractive stallion and his five friends were very much red-blooded mares.

Yes, even Fluttershy.

Expecially Fluttershy.

Twilight smiled remembering the last time that Rainbow managed to get enough cider and salt into the mare to get her properly drunk. It had been enlightening. And the things she had said to Applejack about the mare's elder brother had been shocking. Although, Rainbow and Pinkie had certainly found it hilarious.

Of course, Applejack hadn't found it quite so funny, and the two mares 'went a tusslin''. Something that had resulted in the normally demure pegasus suplexing the stockier earth mare. Rainbow had almost died laughing.

All this was to say, that Twilight was expecting that there would be a significant amount of sexual tension between him and his friends. And ... well ... all his Friendship studies had indicated that such a thing was bad. It could lead to feelings of jealousy and envy that could rip a friend group apart. Not to mention what could happen if he actually ended in a sexual relationship with one or more of them.

“Um, Sparkle, I don't mean to rush you, but the Spring Holiday starts in three days.”

Twilight looked a Umbra in confusion for a few seconds.

“Heat week, Sparkles, heat week.” Shadow clarifies.

Twilight's eyes widened. He had completely forgotten about oestrus, heat, breeding season. The one time of year – baring magical intervention – where mares were fertile, ovulating, able to be impregnated. Apparently, it was also a period of vastly increased libido and desire in most mares. That latter part Twilight had never actually experienced, only the itching and increased body temperature.

And then there were the pheromones, designed to ready stallions for said impregnation. The effect seemed to be much more subdued than a mare's heat, but there were stories of stallions loosing themselves for a period, of the mythical rut.

Suffice to say, it would not be a period during which it would be prudent for the newly made stallion to visit his friends, who just so happened to be mares.

Unfortunately, the term 'heat week', while not inaccurate, is misleading. While each individual mare went into oestrus for a period from 3 to 9 days, mares didn't all go into heat at the same time. As a result the Spring Holiday encompassed the full four weeks during which most mares went through heat. Four weeks where walking the streets of the Ponyville was considered neither safe nor decent for any fertile stallion.

Once again Twilight found himself wishing he was still in Canterlot. There were many ways to mitigate the worst of the symptoms of oestrus: spell, medication, potion, even meditation. Stallions could walk the streets of Canterlot with minimal danger, even during the Spring Holiday.

But Ponyville was an earth pony town, and earth ponies were highly suspicious of magic and anything else they deem 'unnatural'. Contraceptives in particular were scorned, a throwback to ancient earth pony Fertility worship. Even moon tea was looked upon with suspicion and mistrust, and it was millennia old.

In all honesty, all Twilight wanted to do is to run away to his library for the next month. Like he had often as a young filly. When the world, or the ponies in it, stopped making sense, the library had become Twilight's refuge. Books didn't judge, books didn't threaten, books didn't punish, and if a book didn't make sense, that was just because you lacked the requisite context. Context that existed in other books.

Unfortunately, that just wasn't an option. Twilight Sparkle was, unfortunately, a very important pony. He had responsibilities, both to his fief and to the Realm.

Even more, he had friends. Friends that just wouldn't let him disappear for an entire month. Friends who would barge into his library out of concern. Friends who were mares and therefor would have an unacceptably high chance of being in oestrus when they did. Especially considering how Twilight had taken to helping them with spells during the last four oestrus seasons. Well, most of them, at least. Applejack had never been a fan of magic in the best of days and had harshly rebuked Twilight when the mare had broached the topic.

And of course, introducing himself during the holiday was just asking for trouble.

Nor would he feel comfortable informing his friends indirectly, through a letter or intermediary.

No, there was only one option that, while suboptimal, was viable.

“Okay, we're going out today.”

Shadow accidentally inhaled her bite of pancake and started coughing.

Umbra gave the stallion a cautious look, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm not sure. But I don't really get anything by waiting, do I?”

The twins glanced at each other in concern.

Chapter 5: Escalation

“Because, Applejack.” Twilight spoke with tears streaming down his face, “I am a stallion.”

Applejack stared at her longtime friend turned stallion in confusion; he was telling the truth – Honesty told her that – but that didn't mean that it made any sense. He wasn't going to become a mare again because he was now a stallion? It ain't make no sense.

Applejack shook her head, even as a mare, Twilight had always been a particularly colty pony; she had been prone to fits that would make even the most whimsical of city colts concerned.

But, then again, none of the rest of her friends were particularly maresculine, honestly.

Sometimes, it felt like Applejack was the only mare in a friend-group made of stallions with the amount of drama and other nonsense they get up to ....

... just without the primary benefit that would result from such an arrangement.

Hay, Applejack may be an earth mare of good character, but she wouldn't say no to being surrounded by a bunch of hot studs.

Especially not after having lived her whole life in the stud desert that is Ponyville.

There were very few stallions in the town who weren't either gelds or taken. Hay, the only real eligible bachelor in the town was Applejack's own brother.

And despite what dirty lies the city ponies liked to spew, country ponies didn't do that with their own siblings ... or cousins ... or any family whatsoever.

But now Twilight was a stallion, and he was apparently going to stay that way.

Applejack inspected her friend, and couldn't help but admit that Twilight made a pretty colt.

He was tall, tall enough to look Princess Celestia in the eyes. That naturally meant he had the longest set of legs Applejack had ever had the pleasure to see on a stallion, easily enough to keep up with the most unruly of foals. Even better, he didn't have the thin, fragile build that cursed most unicorns; he actually had muscles.

Before Applejack knew it she was outright ogling the stallion's muscles and she found that, while he was somewhat thinner than she preferred her stallions, he definitely was attractive enough to draw out idle fantasies.

And they were just idle fantasies, Applejack was a proud Apple, there was a lot more she looked for in a stallion than a pretty face or long foal chasing legs or powerful musculature or heavy, churning balls or a thick, glorious sheath or a wonderful, overpowering musk.

Many mares had been ruined by falling for a pretty colt of poor character.

Why, her cousin Ambrosia had just gone through a right nightmare due to falling for a stallion from a wealthy Manehattan family.

Not that Twilight was a pony of poor character ... but he was undeniably poor husband material nonetheless.

The mares of the Apple Clan had long held to their 5 S's – well, most Apple mares at least – a good colt was strong, sturdy, simple, silent and subservient. Twilight passed the first two easily, but the other three?

Applejack snorted, she couldn't think of a stallion who more catastrophically failed them.

Even as a mare, even as a unicorn, Twilight had been one of the most unreasonably complicated ponies Applejack had ever met, and she doubted that that had changed with his change of sex.

And the latter two? Well, that wasn't really his fault, he had been raised as a mare, of course he acted as if he were a mare; only time would tell if he ever learned to act like a proper stallion.

And then there was the entire 'alicorn prince' thing, the 'noble' combination of a pegasus and a unicorn.

The Apple family had not survived as long as it had by involving itself in noble nonsense. That alone would be a deal breaker.

More so, pegasi rarely made good stallions, much too flighty and unreliable. Applejack had no idea what fell influence could drive the winged ponies so far into the sky, so far from the loving embrace of the Earth. Very few of them had the good sense to keep all four hooves on the ground as Harmony intended.

And then there was his horn.

Now Applejack trusted Twilight; the alicorn simply wasn't the kind of pony to ever descend to the deprivations of witchcraft – to use curses and hexes to steal the souls of the innocents for power – but that didn't mean that Applejack was comfortable his hocus pocus, how freely he burned his own soul to power his magic.

Even if alicorns seemed to have a lot of soul to burn, if Princess Celestia was any indication.

So no, even as attractive as he was, Applejack was not genuinely interested in Twilight in 'that way'.

That said, Applejack wasn't opposed to eye-candy, especially when his long legs meant that the mare had a perfect unobstructed view of Twilight's entire undercarriage, without having to duck her head like usual. Applejack may be a proud 'leg' mare, but that didn't mean that she was going to turn her muzzle up at the sheer ballsiness before her.

Twilight coughed, “My eyes are up here, Applejack.”

Applejack flinched back, sputtering, before craning her neck back to look into the much taller stallion's eyes while blushing incandescently.

The whorse snickered, “Caught red hoofed, you naughty filly.”

Twilight quirked an eyebrow and gave a half-smirk, “Saw something you like?”

Applejack froze as her brain short-circuited, had Twilight just flirted with her.

Twilight made a strange inequine 'chuffing' sound before turning away and surveying the street, “Say, Applejack, if you're here, who's watching the apple stall?”

“Uhh ...” Applejack came back to reality, “Mah brother is.”

“Wait,” spoke the other whorse, “you left your brother alone, in the middle of the market, in this town, at this time of day, at this time of year?”

Oh, buck, Applejack's pupils shrunk to pinpricks.

“Come, Applejack,” Twilight spoke in an imperious tone, “before something regrettable happens.” He said with a surprising amount of disdain, before setting off at a swift yet awkwardly stiff, trot.

Applejack had to gallop to keep up.

“... and this is Eta Team's quarters.” Spoke Twilight Spark as they entered a small living room with several simple couches, “The kitchen is over there, although we don't touch it much.” Spark shrugged, “It's generally preferred that we eat our meals in the Great Hall, but it isn't mandatory as some ponies wish to be alone on occasion.”

Sanguine hobbled over to the nearest couch and laid down, cradling her head in her forehooves. The trip had been a blur, from the moment she had left the teleportation terminal; she recalled trotting and hearing Spark talking for the entire journey, but any specifics were lost.

It was a confusing experience, to say the least.

“And over there is the bathroom ... you will clean up after yourself like civilized ponies, or you're going to be cleaning it with your tongue.” Spark made an inequine growl, “And down this hall are the bedrooms, so follow me and we can get you sorted out.”

“Uh, Lady Zpark?” Midnight interrupted.

Spark stopped and turned around, “Yes?” she asked before noticing the distressed unicorn, “Oh, right,” she blushed, “the wards.”

Swordcant chuffed scornfully.

Spark trotted over to Sanguine, “Sorry about that, the manor's a bit suspicious of new ponies, but she'll warm up to you after a couple nights. Give it a few seconds and the confusion will pass.”

Sanguine groaned, but the mare was correct, her thoughts were rapidly clearing, “Why?”

“Confusion ward, hard for invaders to conquer the manor when they can't tell left from right, yet alone communicate coherently.”

Sanguine sighed, “That happen often?”

“Nope,” chirped Spark happily, “No hostile army has ever managed to gain entrance to the Twilight Manor in the over 1300 years of its history. But that doesn't mean that it will never happen, and we need to be prepared for that eventuality.”

“Uh, isn't that a bit ... paranoid.”

“It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you.” Spark said brightly, with no hint of irony.

“Right ...”

“Of course, that's just the record for mundane military threats; if we include containment breaches, extraplanar incursions, rogue experiments, esoteric threats and other such things, the record becomes significantly less impressive. Why, just a couple months ago our experimental combat golems decided that they wanted to turn all of ponykind into paperclips for some reason; set our combat golem program back decades, it did.” Spark smiled softly and purred like a cat, “Still, it was fun.”

“Uh huh ...” Replied Sanguine, her mind refusing to comprehend what she had just been told in self defence.

“So, as I was saying, the bedrooms are down this hall,” Spark stated as she trotted down said hall, before gesturing to a heavy stone door, “The first door on the left is Aura's, it's her office in addition to her bedroom, so she's in there reasonably often; if you need something feel free to knock. Big sister's our captain so it's her job to deal with that kind of shit, but try to avoid annoying her with trivial nonsense.” Spark smirked, “She can be inventive when it comes to punishments.”

“And the right door is Crack Shot's room; sniper colt isn't around much, but he's been on Eta Team longer than any of us. He's a surly one, so bother him at your own risk. Also, he's unlikely to want to rut you, and if anymare pushes too hard, she's getting a hoof shoved up her arse, and not in a sexy way.”

“Then next on the left is Flare's room, she's the 2IC, so you can also go to her for your concerns. But don't knock unless you want your frog burned off, it's a real hellscape in there – she has a portal to the Plane of Fire – so the door's pretty hot. So if you need her, just blast the door with a magic missile or throw a brick at it or something.”

Right, because that's a totally normal thing to have in your bedroom, Sanguine snorted.

“On the right is my room, I don't spend much time in there though, so you'd be better off going to my workshop or R&D Headquarters if you need me.”

“The next two rooms aren't currently occupied, the one on the right is used as storage and the left used to belong to the twins. Lazy bitches haven't even properly moved out yet; they were posted months ago.”

“The twins?”

“Aye, Umbra and Shadow, they were your predecessors; they got posted to Sparkle's guard detail earlier this year, leaving Eta Team severely undermared, and therefore ineligible to go on solo missions. It drove big sis to distraction, being subordinate to other captains. So when it came to her attention that both our new allies – changelings and thestrals – had individuals wishing to go on adventure, Eta Team was given priority. And just as that was being finalized, Eta Team was attached to Omicron for the raid on the gryph encampment where we picked you up, Sanguine.”

“And Swordcant?”

“Internal House Twilight politics,” Spark replied brightly, “you needn't worry your adorable little head.”

Swordcant growled, “I have just as much a right to be here as you do.”

“House Twilight? Maybe. But Eta Team ...” Spark scoffed, “Aura won't say this out loud, but your assignment to Eta Team represented a significant undermining of her authority as Team Captain. We are a pack of packs, and this pack disproves of having you foisted on us without our consent.”

Swordcant huffed, “Of course, you mainline Twilights never respect us branch Twilights.”

“Respect?” Spark scoffed, “You want respect? Here in House Twilight, respect is earned. That's the problem with you branch types, you feel entitled to things every other Twilight has had to earn.”

Sanguine watched awkwardly, this was not a conversation that she had expected. As a Canterlot native, she had grown up occasionally rubbing shoulders with the nobility. Every Canterlotian foal learned about the nobility in their schooling. This was not how nobles acted; they did not openly talk in such a way; they kept their internal conflicts secret.

“If respect is so earned, then why is Lady Velvet a thing? You demand we earn respect, while your tyrant, your aunt, rules us all on birthright.”

Spark was silent for a moment, before looking down, “Lady Velvet ... is a complicated subject.” Spark looked back up with an angry countenance, “And entirely irrelevant to you.”

“Irrelevant, my flank. You deny us our due respect, our due influence, while you get fat on our effort.”

“You dare!” Spark snarled, her mane sparking with electricity, “The core house is the pillar upon which all of our power was built. While you branch Twilights are busy schmoozing with the petty nobility and aristocracy, we are the ones fighting against the unending tides of bullshit constantly nipping at the collective hooves of ponykind. And now you waltz in here and demand that we give you respect and authority. It's like you think you're Equestrian Nobles. You disgrace our ancestors by acting like spoiled foals.”

Swordcant sneered, “I don't have to take this.”

“Then leave.”

Swordcant huffed and turned tail, trotted out of Eta Team's quarters slamming the heavy stone door as she left.

Spark turned to Sanguine and Midnight, “Sorry about that, you shouldn't have needed to witness that.”

Sanguine frowned, “What you said to her, it wasn't very ...” she trailed off.

Spark tilted her head, staring at the mare, “'It wasn't very' what? Kind?”

“Uh, yeah. It wasn't very Kind.”

“Well, nopony has ever accused us Twilights of being terribly Kind, we are not the kind to self-censor in order to preserve other's feelings.”

“Not Kind, but Celestia's First Law?”

Spark scoffed, “... is a farce. Celestia is a fool if she thinks that demanding Equestria's institutions to rule based on the Virtues of Harmony will actually foster a sincere belief. Only an idiot actually believes that the Equestrian Nobility holds to Harmony in any real way; not when their actions are so often directly contrary to it.”

Sanguine paused, she couldn't exactly disagree with that, “You and Captain Aura seem to refer to ponies as 'Equestrians' a lot ...”

“Implying that we are not Equestrian?”

“Yeah, I mean you are an Equestrian Noble House aren't you?”

“Ehhh, technically, yes. In truth ... well, we Twilights originate from a time when Equestria didn't exist, outside of oral history at least,” Spark sighed, “it was a very different time; the culture of the survivors of Everfree had changed greatly due to their exile, and the common ponies of the Ponylands ... well, they had spent generations living more as livestock than a civilized race, thanks to the filthy caribou. There was, quite frankly, almost nothing left of Equestria, culture or otherwise, the survivors had to make our own. So no, we aren't Equestrians, not in any way that matters, we're Twilights.”

“Huh.”

Spark paused, “Anyways, the Dark Age would not have been a period conducive to Kindness, even had the virtue even existed back then.”

Sanguine looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that there was no such thing as the virtue of Kindness, just an empty, rotting hole in the fabric of reality where it used to be. It was the same with Loyalty, Honesty, Generosity and Joy.”

“But those are ...”

“The Virtues of Harmony? Indeed, we realized that after the fact. Curious coincidence, that. It was almost like Harmony itself had abandoned ponykind. The Twilights were actually the ones who managed to reconstruct Loyalty; we rebuilt it from Honour and Duty and our burning Hatred for the filthy Caribou.”

Spark paused.

“All said, one could say that we Twilights aren't exactly Harmonists.” Spark chuckled, “It's not that we think the Virtues of Harmony are bad, per se, it's just that we find other virtues to be more important: Honour, Duty, Diligence, Prudence, Courage, Self-Control, Justice,” Spark paused, “technically Temperance is amongst them, but, eh, that's a lost cause with most Twilights.”

Sanguine stared, not sure what to say.

“That said, we Twilights have always prided ourselves on being frank and forthright, we have little use for the flowery language nobles like to hide their dire insults in. Language is for communication, not self-aggrandizing word-games. Unlike with the duplicitous Equestrian nobility, there's never a need to wonder if a Twilight dislikes you, because we'll bucking tell you.”

...

“So ...” Spark gestured to the last two doors in the hall, “... these are your rooms, Sanguine you're sharing with Princess Lepidoptera on the left and Midnight you're with Swordcant on the right.”

Sanguine tilted her head, “Where is Dora, anyways?”

“Dunno ...” Spark tilted her head, “... around. She's already had the full tour when she moved in last month ...”

Suddenly there was a grinding sound as the stone door to Flare's room opened, bathing the hall in an orange glow as a wave of sweltering heat slammed into the three mares. The familiar form of Twilight Flare trotted out of the door, seemingly not noticing the other mares as she slammed the door closed.

Spark sighed, “Excuse me,” she said to the two mares before trotting after Flare, “Hey you …”

Flare stopped and turned around and stared at Spark with empty, soulless eyes.

Sanguine shuddered, that isn't Flare.

“Yeah, you. Where do you think you're going?”

“Buuurrrnnnn ...” the thing rasped out in monotone.

“Nope, no burning for you, your kind isn't allowed out, so back into the room with you. Get!”

Sanguine watched as the not-Flare was herded back into Flare's room, the door scraping open and releasing another blast of hot air.

“And stay there.” Spark scowled, turning back to Sanguine and Midnight, “Sorry about that. mirror clones, you know,” she scoffed, “can't live with them, can't kill them all.”

No, I don't think I do.

It took Prince Twilight Sparkle a scant few minutes to enter the Ponyville Market Square, and only seconds more to approach the crowd surrounding the Sweet Apple Acres apple cart, mared – 'stallioned?' – by Big Mac alone.

Despite Applejack having been absent for about ten minutes, a small crowd of mares had already started to gather around the Apple stallion.

Thankfully there were only about 40 of them, far fewer than the amount needed to form a herd.

It suddenly occurred to him that herds were going to be something he was going to need to be worried about going forward. If less than three hundred mares had formed a herd in open air, how was he ever going to enter auditoriums filled with crowds of thousands. How could he be a Prince of the Realm when he couldn't address more than a few hundred without driving them mad with lust?

Somehow he didn't think that Princess Celestia would buy that excuse.

There were spells that completely eliminated a pony's scent, but actually using them was widely viewed as extremely suspicious, the kind of thing only used by thieves and spies; an astonishingly large amount of pony communication was olfactory, and interrupting that made you untrustworthy.. No, using such a spell would be out of the question.

Not to mention the inevitable accusations of being a changeling. Never mind that changelings were well documented to be able to flawlessly imitate pony pheromones; they wouldn't be able to infiltrate Equestria if they couldn't.

Then there were spells that could change a pony's scent, but they were notoriously difficult to use; few without a Talent in illusion magic could manage a convincing scent; even the slightest thing wrong would stomp on a pony's instincts. And illusion had never been his best school, he had always had more power than finesse.

Twilight sighed, he'd figure it out, he always did.

The alicorn approached the small crowd of mares, unfolding his wings before thrusting them forward in a wedge shape; not even slowing down as his wings came into contact with the crowd.

His alicorn strength trivially overpowering near a dozen adult earth mares as he split the crowd and waded in.

Umbra stared at the alicorn prince and scowled, expressing her impressive vocabulary of curse words. The mare lit her horn and formed several shadow blades before turning to Applejack, “Lady Applejack, consider yourself volunteered and temporarily deputized for our good prince's bodyguard. The Crown will be rather unhappy if His Royal Highness, Prince Sparkle is violated in the process of saving your brother from the fate you left him to.”

Applejack frowned but didn't protest, and the three mares moved into the gap left by Twilight's passing.

Twilight strode over several mares – knocked over in his advance – as he reached the centre of the crowd, where the harried Big Mac was being harassed by several mares, “Step away from Big Mac, please.”

The mares closest to the earth stallion did not even acknowledge Twilight's statement, one even took the opportunity to shove her muzzle into the red stallion's crotch, sniffing loudly.

Twilight contorted his muzzle in disgust, and flicked out a wing, knocking the mare away from Big Mac, “I said, get back. Leave him alone.”

Even as the mare was stumbling back from the blow, another bowed under the stallion's undercarriage and started nosing his sheath.

“ENOUGH,” Twilight exclaimed in the Royal Canterlot Voice knocking over several of the mares, “You will cease and desist in your deprivations ...” he snarled, his sharp teeth bared as any pretense of equinity was abandoned, “... or I will make you.”

Everypony froze for a few seconds …

…

… before all hell broke loose.

Mares started screaming, fainting, and running in random directions. A couple even started running in circles as they panicked, a response that would be remarkably unhelpful had Twilight actually represented a present danger to them.

Twilight stalked forward a couple steps before stopping and looking down at the mare laying before him, shivering and sobbing in terror in a puddle of her own urine, I'm such an idiot.

“Well, that is one way to solve that problem.” Umbra chuckled.

Twilight scowled at the mare, “I hardly consider this,” he gestured to the panicked mares, “a solution. Look at them.”

“Oh no, the poor degenerate molesters.” Umbra scoffed, “If there were ever ponies that deserved to feel such fear, it is these mares.”

“Um, Twi, what in tarnation was that?” Applejack stared at the stallion with trepidation.

“Sorry about that, Applejack.” Twilight blushed, “I kind of lost myself there, they made me so angry.” the stallion looked at the ground, “I know that that's no excuse, I, of all ponies, should know better than to let my emotions have the best of me.”

Umbra sighed, “Twilight, you had every reason to be angry. These mares were completely out of line, a little growling is far better than they deserve.”

“Anyways, you Twilights' wolfpony shit is objectively hot.”

Umbra facehoofed, “Shadow, he's our cousin.”

“I know, but most Twilights aren't; I'm jumping on the next Twilight Stallion to become available.”

“Twi, what in tarnation was that?” the earth pony repeated.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was the descendant of a long line of magically-enhanced wolfpony super-soldiers?”

Applejack stared at the stallion, “Ah ain't stupid, Twi. Pull the other one.”

Shadow snickered.

Twilight sighed, “Of course.” he turned away from his friend and stepped over the catatonic mare laying before him, approaching Big Mac, “Are you okay?” He asked, placing a hoof on the smaller stallion's shoulder.

The earth stallion flinched, “E-eeyup.”

Twilight gave a soft smile, showing no teeth, “I'm sorry about that, I didn't mean to scare anypony, least of all you.”

“It's okay Twilight, Ah ain't that scared.”

“Oh ... good. None of the mares went too far did they?”

Mac shook his head, “Ain't nothing more than some sniffin' of mah ...” he trailed off, blushing.

Twilight's face twisted with disgust, “Oh, I'm sorry Big Mac, that should never have happened. As the Duke of this town – not to mention a Prince of the Realm – this is my responsibility – noblesse oblige and all that – I should have stopped this behaviour a long time ago.” Twilight sighed, “I don't know how I missed it for so long, but it is nonetheless unacceptable. My subjects should not need to fear for their chastity in public.”

Truthfully, Twilight wasn't entirely being honest; he had a good idea how he had missed such a thing. After all, he had never been the most socially aware pony, and becoming the Bearer of Magic along with his friends to defeat Nightmare Moon before studying the Magic of Friendship had only done so much.

Twilight was never going to be Pinkie Pie, who could remember the name, Special Talent, birthday and favourite food of every single pony, in a town of thousands.

And between friendship problems, ancient evils, his own continued studies of magic and his duties as the town librarian, he had very little time for anything else.

And then Discord happened, and things changed again. His friends were ennobled and he was – through an incredibly convoluted loophole involving Right of Conquest – made duchess of the Royal Duchy of Everfree.

Why exactly the ostensibly pacifist Principality even had laws pertaining to the Right of Conquest was something that had eluded Twilight's discovery ...

... although his more conspiratorial impulses had been quick to point out how suspiciously effective those laws were at transferring the ownership of a Royal Duchy to a mere unicorn without any legal recourse to stop it, either for the nobility or Twilight Sparkle himself.

Even then, Twilight had done very little to interfere in his new duchy; he doubted most ponies in the town were even aware of the change of ownership. Ponyville had been effectively left to self-govern for the entire hundred or so years of its history. If it had worked for Princess Celestia, why wouldn't it work for Twilight Sparkle?

It also helped that the duchy had such a small, concentrated population. The Duchy of Everfree didn't have any notable settlements outside Ponyville, between the Everfree Forest and the Badlands, the vast majority of its land was completely uninhabitable.

The problem emerged with finances.

Despite ostensibly being a Royal Duchy, Everfree was a truly underwhelming fief, forget counties, there were baronies that were more populous and economically active. Baronies!

Even worse, the Duchy had never quite managed to break even, Princess Celestia had been constantly subsidizing the town with a small amount of bits from other, more profitable holdings.

Twilight wasn't one to turn his muzzle up at a gift. But he had never asked to rule a duchy, certainly not one that was almost insolvent.

Twilight had to be the only pony in history whose promotion to duke had made him poorer. Not only had he lost his librarian's salary, but he had gained a massive hole in his budget.

He scoffed, most duchesses had tens if not hundreds of thousands of bits to throw around for lavish parties – hay, even House Twilight could keep their improbably large standing military at high readiness – and here Twilight had to spent much of his scarce, precious time digging for gems to even keep his fief afloat, honestly Twilight didn't know what he would have done if he wasn't friends with Rarity.

That mare is wasted on fashion, with her Talent and alignment she could be an excellent diviner or enchanter. Hay, even without any training she could make a fortune in the mining industry.

Twilight sighed and shook his head, just because you thought that there was something better somepony could do, that doesn't mean that it's a waste.

As Princess Celestia had told the colt so many years ago, 'it makes ponies happy, and that is all that is needed to justify the practice'.

Twilight paused, he had been thinking of his past self as male, he hadn't been a colt, he had been a filly. It was almost like he was forgetting that he had even been a mare ...

But I wasn't a mare, not really, I was never allowed to be a mare. She thought better.

Twilight crushed the sudden spike of hatred with great prejudice. Good Ponies don't hate Princess Celestia.

'Good Ponies' don't torture foals ...

“Uh, Twi, ya alright over there?”

“Wha ...” Twilight blinked and shook his head, “Sorry, Applejack, I was just thinking.” he turned to the mare, gazing at her with piercing, predatory eyes.

Applejack shivered and took a step back, “So ... yeh want any apples, Twilight?”

Twilight shook his head, “No, I finished my shopping for the Spring Holiday last week, I already have all the apples I need for the next month.” he paused, “Anyways I'll get out of your mane, I'm sure there are plenty of less prepared ponies doing their last minute preparations today, I shouldn't tarry too long, don't want to scare any of your potential customers off; anyways, I have a schedule to keep.”

“... right.”

Twilight turned tail, “Oh, and Applejack, make sure nothing happens to Big Mac, I will be disappointed in you if I am forced to administer Justice to any of these rapine vultures.” he said with considerable venom, “So, Spike, where to next?” Twilight asked in a suddenly happy tone.

“Uh, Sugarcube Corner to talk to Pinkie.”

“Excellent.” He replied, stalking off in the direction of the bakery, whistling a jaunty tune.

Applejack shuddered as she watched her friend-turned-stallion leave in his strange, inequine gait. He definitely wasn't the stallion for her; she knew better than to stick her cooch on crazy. And woo-ee, Applejack had no idea that much crazy could fit in one colt.

Rainbow Dash ruffled her feathers in agitation as she unsteadily trotted out of the cloudatorium, her ears were pinned to her head and her increasingly damp and matted tail was held tight to her dock.

The morning's lectures were finally over, and Rainbow was free for the next two hours, well, for a given definition of 'free'.

Barring an emergency, none of the weatherworkers were allowed to leave Cloudsdale, Never mind that Ponyville was a short flight away. Apparently the bureaucrats responsible for the conference felt that would be too 'distracting' for the conference goers.

Well, congratulations, Rainbow was sufficiently distracted; she barely remembered a single word that had been spoken all morning.

It was humiliating, being reduced to this – a soggy, miserable, irritable, horny excuse for a mare – in front of all her colleagues and superiors.

Rainbow sighed as she looked around, at least everymare seemed to be avoiding staring at her, whether they did this out of politeness or the desire to avoid the ire of a heatstruck mare didn't matter to Rainbow.

What few stallions around stared – of course – but Rainbow could hardly hold that against them, so long as staring was all they did.

Rainbow shook her head, it's not like any of these stallions had the ovaries to do anything more than stare.

Wouldn't that be something ...

He would approach Rainbow, and not take no for an answer.

Rainbow would fight back, of course – or at least try to – but her body would turn against her – tail flagging, wings stiffening, clit winking – and he would easily overpower her.

He would pinning her muzzle to the cloud and settle upon her back before forcing his enormous, savage cock into Rainbow's virgin depths.

He would then brutally rut Rainbow until her screams of pain turned to screams of ecstasy, leaving her forever ruined for all other stallions ...

... and now she was fantasizing about being violently raped, I bucking hate heat season, Rainbow flushed in mortification.

Her blush only got deeper when she realized that her body had reacted to the fantasy, giving the entire weatherworker's conference a show.

As Rainbow's arousal was crushed under humiliation and self-loathing, she managed to fold her erect wings and tuck her flagged tail.

“Hay, mare, it looks like you need this.”

Rainbow turned to see a mare holding a scroll towards her, “What?” Rainbow barked out.

The other mare flinched, “Here ...” she hoofed the scroll to Rainbow.

Rainbow took the scroll and unrolled it, her eyes narrowing, it was an ad, for a stallion, a stud.

Rainbow felt herself scowling in disgust, her foalhood had given her a first hoof example of what the studding industry did when its 'product' was no longer deemed 'valuable'. The number of brothels, dive-bars, stripclubs and nightclubs the young filly had had to drag her father out of ...

She took a second look at the image of the stallion in question. He was laying on his back with his wings splayed out behind him – a pose that left absolutely nothing to the imagination – while staring at the camera with a seductive, submissive expression. He was wearing frilly socks and done up in enough lace, ribbons and bows that it looked like he had fallen afoul of Rarity's evil – and perverted – twin.

His soft, coltish features and small balls and sheath indicated that he was what was commonly known as a 'half-geld', a 'pretty colt', a stallion whose puberty had naturally delayed itself for several years, but had narrowly avoiding the fate of becoming a 'full' gelding; this lead to a lack of many of the features indicative of a proper stallion.

Half-gelds were popular in Cloudsdale for reasons that had always evaded Rainbow, Undertown certainly chewed through them at an astonishing rate.

Rainbow, meanwhile, had always preferred stallions that looked more ... well, like stallions. Half-gelds looked way too much like geldings. And while Rainbow had no problem with gelds – in fact many of her friends were gelds – she found them about as sexually intriguing as a matte grey wall.

If anything, Rainbow preferred her stallions quite a bit more built than normal, something that was tragically rare among pegasi. It was truly a shame that Twilight's older brother was lacking in the wing department ...

... and married.

“So, what do you think? He's a stud in good standing and I promise that he's clean, he can take care of that nasty itch of yours for only fifty bits.”

“I'm not interested.” Rainbow would sooner die a virgin than hire a stud, she just couldn't forget what had happened to her father.

The mare scoffed, “Oh, don't be like that, we mares have urges, there's no shame in getting some help with them. My brother is an experienced stud, and he has left no mare wanting.”

Rainbow glowered at the mare, snorting in aggravation.

The mare saddled up beside Rainbow and reached a wing around her withers, “You know what, I'll knock ten bits off the price, just for you. I just can't stand to see a fellow mare suffering so unnecessarily like you are.”

Rainbow yanked herself backwards and spread her wings in a threat posture, “I said that I am not interested. Leave me alone.”

The other mare scoffed, “If this is how you treat a mare trying to help you, you can just sod off.”

“No, you 'sod off'; you are the one who approached me in an attempt to pimp your brother, don't pretend like you were just 'trying to help me'.”

“'Pimp!?” the mare's muzzle twisted in anger, she spread her wings to mirror Rainbow, “My brother is not some kind of cheap streetwalker, he's a stud in good standing! How dare you make such implications!?”

Rainbow scoffed, “Whatever, I'm sick of this.” she said before launching herself skyward with a single downstroke.

“Uh, Sparkles, your wolfyness is showing.”

Twilight stopped, “Oh, right, that you for the reminder, Shadow.” he took a couple steps, forcing himself to move more like a pony, slowly trotting forward.

Umbra frowned as she studied Twilight's gait, even more stiff and unsteady than it had been earlier in the morning, “Uh, Sparkle, are you okay?”

“Of course I'm okay, I feel great.”

Umbra sighed, “Sparkle, I've fought alongside far too many Twilights to not recognize a Battle High when I see it.”

“Oh right, a Battle High.” Twilight tilted his head, “Yeah, that makes sense.” Twilight had once heard the Twilight's Battle High referred to as an 'adrenaline high on steroids'; it was an apt, albeit entirely inadequate, metaphor. It was also literally true, as, in addition to the expected epinephrine, a Twilight's adrenal gland released hundreds of other compounds, including a number of androgens and other compounds with anabolic effects.

And then there were stimulants, nootropics and other kinds of performance enhancing drugs.

Although, strictly speaking, they were 'hormones' and not 'drugs' as they are naturally created by a pony's body; not that that would convince anypony administering a drug test.

Twilight giggled, now that was a test he would have no chance of passing. He could imagine the look on the administerer's face when she looked at the results, at the dozens upon dozens of exotic and prohibited chemical compounds in his bloodstream.

“Uh, Twilight, what's so funny.”

“Oh, nothing, Spike, it's just a good thing that royalty is an occupation that doesn't require drug tests.”

“Wut?” Spike stared down at the back of Twilight's head in confusion.

“Nothing you need worry about.” Of course, biochem was only part of the Battle High, there was also a lot of interesting things going on in his brainmeats at this moment.

And all of it came together in an experience that couldn't quite be described by pony language. It was, pardon the cliche, a state of altered consciousness, a state of supreme – almost transcendent – aggression and paradoxical total calm, of deep predatory bloodlust and clear-minded focus; instinct and intellect both working together flawlessly, becoming something more than the sum of its parts.

It had been so very long since Twilight had last felt this, it surprised him how much he found that he missed it.

She stole it from me.

“Sparkle, I ask again, are you okay? Because I have never seen you lose control of your instincts like that, if anything your control has been astonishingly good, better even than Captain Aura.”

“Yeah, I'm okay, I'm just ... not used to them.”

Umbra stared at Twilight, her mouth slightly open, I have a bad feeling about this.

“You're 'not used to' your instincts, as in, the instincts you were born with?” Shadow asked in disbelief.

Twilight froze, oh, buck. “Oh ...” he rubbed the back of his head with a wing in embarrassment, “... I've been using meditation to keep the instincts in control, but it seems that the spell did more than just make me a stallion, all my progress seems to be gone. And, well, I was not able to get into the right mindset for it last night.” In fact, each time he had attempted the meditation he had been overwhelmed with a surge of rage, hatred and disgust.

Umbra felt her stomach drop out of her barrel, “And this, uh, 'meditation', it was taught to you by Celestia, yes?”

“Princess Celestia, and yes, I was hunting small animals so she taught me her meditation so I could keep myself in control, and stop.”

“You were 'hunting small animals', what, like a Twilight?” Shadow scoffed.

Umbra stared at the alicorn for a second, “Uh, Sparkle, how much does Celestia even know about Twilights?”

Twilight sent a small glare at the mare, “Not much, I don't think, and for the last time, it's Princess Celestia.”

“So ...” Shadow drawled, “... Princess Celestia, in her ignorance, decided that she was going to teach you this 'meditation' to 'fix' something that wasn't wrong. Truly, the God Princess of all Ponykind is a wise and just ...”

Twilight snarled and made to lunge at the aggravating mare …

Shadow flinched back and whimpered, “Please don't hurt me.”

Rainbow made a wide circle of the temporary cloud-structures that made up the conference 'ground'. Buck, I can't seem to even talk to another mare without it becoming a bucking argument, the last thing I need is more enemies in the weatherworks department.

She went for a couple more laps of the airspace – the cold wind giving a slight bit of relief to her burning loins – before angling towards one of the many clouds ringing the conference, a small, unoccupied, weather-grade cumulus.

Rainbow landed before lying down, the cool dampness of the cloud feeling good against the fur of her undercarriage.

She sighed before closing her eyes and letting out a deep breath.

Rainbow stayed like that for several minutes, breathing deeply in an attempt to dissipate her stress and calm herself down; it didn't really help that much.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the ground, Ponyville looked even more quaint than usual from this high.

She sighed as she looked down at the town's most recent addition, the strange crystal/tree/castle that was the 'Castle of Friendship'. If Rainbow were in Ponyville, she wouldn't be half this uncomfortable.

The average Ponyvillian might find unicorn magic spooky, but Rainbow had no such compunctions; it was bucking useful to be close friends with a mage as talented as Twilight, so long as you avoided her more ... experimental ... spells.

But, no, some useless bureaucrat had decided to treat the weatherworkers as little foals, expressly forbidding anypony from leaving Cloudsdale during the conference for any reason barring an emergency.

And paying to get such a spell cast on her just wasn't an option, Cloudsdale's hedge mages were bucking expensive, well beyond Rainbow's own modest means.

Which, admittedly, made some amount of sense; if Rainbow were a unicorn, she wouldn't want to live in a cloud city either. Especially not Cloudsdale

And, of course, Rainbow just wasn't going to go and hire a stud.

So she was stuck, burning up as the minutes ticked towards freedom.

“Hay, there you are Rainbow.” spoke the voice of a singularly aggravating stallion.

Oh, Sweet Celestia, what did I do to deserve this? “What are you doing here, Zephyr, this is the weatherworker's conference, not the mane stylists' conference.”

“I'm a mane therapist not a mane 'stylist'.”

Right, because that's totally a real thing.

“But I'm not sure that's the right 'fit' for me, if you know what I mean.”

“Ugh, of course you do.”

“But enough about me, let's talk about you.”

“Let's not.”

Zephyr continued, seemingly not hearing Rainbow's disagreement, “You're a hard mare to find, Rainbow, why didn't you tell me you were in town? We could have had so much more time.”

Rainbow shivered in disgust, “I want to spend as little time with you as possible Zephyr, leave me alone.”

“Ah, playing hard to get, I dig it. It's a good thing I'm so good at finding ponies.” Zephyr paused, “Ah, maybe that's what I should do, Zephyr Breeze rescue stallion!”

Rainbow facehoofed, You'd get bored halfway through a rescue and leave the pony to die, “Zephyr, please don't insult my intelligence by claiming I was hard to find, you're a stallion who approached a heatstruck mare from downwind. We both know how you found me.” It was considered rather quite taboo for a stallion to approach a mare in heat, not that Zephyr seemed to care.

“Okay fine,” Zephyr chuckled awkwardly, “you got me, but in my defence you smell really good.”

Rainbow turned her head to glare at the infuriating creep, the idiot probably thought that was a compliment. “I say again, Zephyr, leave me the buck alone.”

“Oh don't be like that, Rainbow.” he made a placating gesture, “I'm just here to help.”

Rainbow seethed, “I don't bucking want your bucking 'help', Zephyr.” she stood to her hooves and turned towards the stallion, wings spread.

“Now, now, Rainbow, I know you want this.” Zephyr turned to the side and started to trot in the air, “And, why, it's your lucky day, I'm willing to give you a steep discount of fift ... no, forty percent, just ... for ... you!” he winked at her, still doing his ridiculous air trot.

Rainbow stared at him in disbelief before starting to giggle, “Oh, sweet Celestia, you're serious.” she started to laugh even harder.

“So what do you say?”

Rainbow took a couple seconds to stop laughing before putting on a deadpan expression, “No.”

“Okay, I take coin or cheque, my normal fee is 150 bits, so minus 40 percent that would be ... uh ...” his eyes crossed for several seconds before snapping forward, “... 110 bits! So let's get it over with so we can get to the fun part.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Rainbow gagged, “I said 'no'. Do you know what 'no' means, Zephyr?”

The stallion tilted his head, “Is that a trick question?”

“No.”

“Uhhh ...”

“It means no. I do not want to sleep with you Zephyr, and I'm certainly not going to pay to do it. Please go away, and stop harassing innocent heatstruck mares.”

“Oh ...” he paused, “... so, do you want to hang out?”

Rainbow closed her eyes and sighed, “No, Zephyr, I do not want to 'hang out', I want to be alone right now.”

“Oh,” he wilted for a second, before perking up, “I'll get you to admit you love me some day, Rainbow.”

Suddenly, the wind changed, and Rainbow was treated to the scent of the stallion, it wasn't good. He smelled of body odour, and sex, and fermenting sexual fluids, it was awful, albeit far from the worst Rainbow had ever smelled. “Dude, when was the last time you showered?”

“And deny the mares my stallionly musk?” Zephyr responded in mock offence.

Rainbow stared deeply into the stallion's eyes, frowning, “Please, Zephyr, listen to me.” she implored, “Poor hygiene is the number one reason why stallions lose their studding licence; and trust me, losing your license is a nightmare, it's the end of your life as you know it.” I know, it ripped my family apart, “It's a permanent black mark not only on your record, but that of your closest family. It would kill any hope you would have at having a normal job in this city, and likely much of Equestria. You could end up a prostitute.”

Zephyr stared at the suddenly earnest mare, not sure how to respond.

“Please, I don't want to tell Fluttershy that her younger brother bled out in an Undertown alley after getting stabbed by some strung out junkie.” Blood, so much blood, the dingy clouds of the alley stained red, the world uncaring as a filly cried over her father.

“Uh ...”

“Please, just talk to your mother, I'm certain she wouldn't object to helping you with your hygiene.”

“Right ... uh, I have things I got to do so ... uh ... goodbye.” Zephyr fled.

Rainbow stared as he flew away.

She sighed, Well, at least he's gone.

The short trot to Sugarcube Corner had given Twilight Sparkle ample time to come down from his Battle High; a Twilight's body was designed to metabolize the responsible chemicals nearly as fast as it created them.

After all, such a cocktail of drugs certainly was dangerous, it would likely kill the common pony, either from their heart exploding, neural activity heightening to the point of seizure or one of the many other ways a pony's body could be stressed to failure.

Of course, the Twilight body had been hardened to the worst of the adverse effects – it would be rather counterproductive to just keel over dead when faced with combat – but that didn't mean that it was healthy.

But as the paradoxically calm mania of the Battle High faded, dread, panic and self-loathing rose.

Twilight Sparkle had completely lost control of himself, he had been seconds away from murdering hundreds of mares, and then had further traumatized another forty or so.

And he has traumatized them using House Twilight's darkest secret; there was a reason that the Twilight's had hid their nature for so long.

Twilight remembered how often his mother had ranted about how the Equestrians 'didn't understand' the Twilights, how they couldn't understand. Claims that the young filly had taken as part of Lady Velvet's clear tendency for exaggeration. Claims that had later been proven true by Princess Celestia.

The young Twilight had done everything he could to 'prove' to Celestia that he was a 'Good Pony', but Princess Celestia – as incredibly perceptive as she was – had somehow seen through his every attempt. But even the charge of Bad Pony had been a relief compared to the truth.

For Twilight was not a pony, he was merely a monster wearing a pony's skin, requiring the flesh of other creatures to even survive, a predator hiding in the herd.

And now that truth was out; even if the townsponies were slow to realize the implications.

In a town like Ponyville, gossip travels faster than sound, even if it was decidedly less than accurate. Even now the ponies in the streets were whispering about him while staring.

Whispering that Twilight could hear every word of, despite him pinning his ears tight to his head; another curse of his inequine nature.

Oh, the townsponies weren't yet condemning him, their words were spoken of him in tones of curiosity, confusion, lust and the occasional disapproval; apparently he wasn't stallionly enough for some mares, which ... uh ... he had been a stallion for less than 24 hours.

Nonetheless, Twilight knew that given enough time, that curiosity would give way to fear, which would give way to hatred. 'Familiarity breeds contempt', after all.

A prey species like ponies just couldn't trust predators. And that went double when those predators were monsters deceptively wearing the skin of a pony.

Even Princess Celestia – the Wise and Just and Merciful Princess Celestia who had persisted for a thousand years in her attempts at normalizing relationships with the gryphons – had recoiled in shock, horror and disgust at a mere glance at Twilight's True nature ...

“I've heard that you've said some very Unkind things about gryphons today in class, Twilight.” Princess Celestia said as she frowned at the filly, “I'm very disappointed in you.”

Sparkle flinched, “What ..?”

Princess Celestia's frown deepened, “I have reports from several of your classmates that you stated, and I quote, that 'gryphons eat ponies', that was not a very Kind thing to say, Twilight.”

“But it's the truth, gryphons had already hunted the local non-sapient equines to extinction by the time that the pony tribes got to the land later called Equestria, and the gryphons had immediately started hunting the ponies ... they never fully stopped. It got really bad back in the Dark Age until we were able to fight them back and drive their raiders from the Ponylands, but gryphon bandits still abduct ponies from the outskirts of Equestria to this very day ...” Sparkle trailed off under Princess Celestia's glare.

Celestia sighed, “I don't know who told you such horrible things, but they are a bad pony who is Lying to you,” she paused, “and it's a very Unkind lie at that.”

“But ...”

“I know it's hard to believe, but some ponies are scared of gryphons because of their ... diets, so they tell horrible lies about them.”

“Because gryphons are predators?”

Celestia grimaced, “Some creatures have different needs, gryphons just so happen to need to eat the flesh of other living beings in order to survive; this does not mean that gryphons, or any other predator species, are morally or intellectually inferior to ponies, no matter what some individuals will claim.”

Sparkle stayed quiet.

“So I better not hear you making any more disparaging remarks about the dietary preferences of non-ponies.”

“'Non-ponies? But what about ponies?”

Celestia tilted her head, 'What about ponies?”

“Some ponies eat meat too ...”

Celestia's countenance darkened into an ugly scowl, “No, Twilight, Ponies don't eat 'meat'.” her muzzle twisted in disgust as she spoke that last word.

“But ...”

“Ponies do not eat 'meat', Twilight.” Celestia reiterated with a tone of finality.

Sparkle broke into a horrible choking sob, What am I if not a pony?

Celestia wrapped Sparkle in a wing, softly nickering, “Now, now, I still love you Twilight, so long as you focus on becoming a better pony than you are.”

Sparkle bawled.

Twilight flinched as he returned to the present; that was not a pleasant memory, and one that he had long forgotten.

He frowned, many years later Celestia had 'taught' Twilight that some gryphons chose to eat the flesh of other sapient kinds, the very thing she had once decried as a 'horrible lie'.

Lying is all she ever does.

“Are you okay, Sparkle?” Umbra once again asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Twilight lied unconvincingly.

Umbra frowned softly, “Well, we're here.” she stated, gesturing a hoof at the door before them.

Twilight looked up, and found that, indeed, they were standing before the whimsical structure that was Sugarcube Corner, the sound of voices and laughter audible through the solid wooden door.

Twilight sighed before pushing the door open, the cacophony washed over him before rapidly fading to total silence.

Twilight trotted towards the counter, his soft hoofsteps sounding like thunder in the oppressive silence, instinctively he tucked his tail and flattened his ears under the judging stares of the bakery's clientele.

“Well, what do you think you're staring at?” Shadow barked out at the ponies, scowling, “Didn't your mothers teach you little colts it's rude to stare? Why don't you go back to minding your own bucking business?”

Twilight felt an immediate sense of relief as his audience turned away in shame at the rebuke. Honestly, for as much as Shadow might be confrontational and abrasive, it was moments like this that made Twilight really appreciate her.

“Bold words for such a little bitch.” all his audience that is, except one.

Oh for Celestia's sake. Twilight looked at the approaching mare.

She was a burly earth mare, standing slightly taller than Applejack.

She also had the angular snout, unnaturally muscle-bound form, unmarely low voice and confused pheromone cocktail indicative of excessive abuse of androgenic steroids. Even moreso, her pheromones gave absolutely no indication of the expected onset of oestrus, meaning that her abuse of the synthetic hormones had rendered her sterile, likely irreversibly.

And, of course there was the unponylike aggression.

The phenomena evocatively referred to as 'Roid Rage' was something of a medical mystery. Nopony knew why chemicals designed to imitate the sex hormones of stallions – the more docile and agreeable sex – had such an effect on mares. Nonetheless, it was a well established effect of the class of drugs.

Such drugs were illegal, of course, for reasons that should be obvious; not least of all that such an elevated level of aggression made for a pony that is rather unsuited for Equestrian society, a fact that nopony knew better than the Twilights.

That said, the legal status of a substance was largely theoretical unless the law had an ability to enforce the prohibitions.

It was somewhat of an open secret that nearly all of Equestria's synthetic drugs originated from Cloudsdale; the cloud city had a monopoly on the nations biochem and pharmaceutical industries, but nopony dared even imply any degree of criminal maleficence, at least not publicly.

House Hurricane was infamous for being incredibly litigious, anyone caught saying something Hurricane found 'unacceptable' would be dragged through the Cloudsdale courts. Courts that just so happened to always find in Hurricane's favour.

Not even agents of the Crown were safe, not since a Cloudsdale judge had ceded herself the power to, not only charge a member of Her Majesty's Royal Inquisition, but waive an inquisitor's qualified immunity, creating a precedent that had, not only made it impossible for any crown agent to operate in Cloudsdale, but hamstrung the Inquisition's operations across much of Equestria.

Never mind that the entire point of the Inquisition was that they were above any and all such regional courts.

Twilight sighed and gave Shadow a look out of the side of his eye – he desperately hoped she would have the good sense to not further aggravate this mare – before turning back to the approaching belligerent mare.

Perhaps some would consider Twilight's disdain for the abuse of steroids to be hypocritical; after all, many drugs of that class were produced by his adrenal glands, but he was born that way, while this mare had done it to herself.

And for all his ancestors' reckless disregard for magical ethics, at least they did everything they could to mitigate such adverse effects, using less androgenic compounds, hardening tissue against the side effects and pairing the hormones with other compounds that improved cognition, strengthened willpower and reduced stress. The very fact he even existed was proof of their planning – and perhaps degree of luck, after all, House Clover had always been known for their luck– with how such compounds typically wreaked havoc upon a pony's reproductive system, particularly among mares.

Hay, Twilight mares actually had a notably higher fertility rate than Equestrians ... although some amount of that is certainly cultural.

“Don't come one step closer.” Umbra commanded, lighting her horn and forming several blades of her shadowy magic, an action that was silently mirrored by her twin.

Twilight briefly glanced at his two guards, in their professionalism, they showed none of the fear they most certainly felt.

Pop culture was chock full of examples of smaller, weaker but skilled fighter fighting rings around clumsy brutes, giving them the death of a thousand cuts as they effortlessly evade their enemies' slow but fearsome blows.

It was all complete nonsense; the combined result of ignorance, narrative tropes and abstracted game mechanics.

In a fight between strength and skill, strength won nine times out of ten. And strength was directly proportional to muscle mass, at least, baring differences in tribe, or special talent. The difference is so stark that in some combat sports the distinction between weight classes could be as fine as 2 kilograms.

As a warrior culture, every Twilight was told such from a very young age; 'A pound of muscle is worth ten pounds of skill' was a common phrase.

And not only were earth ponies the largest and strongest of the mortal pony tribes, they could draw upon the very strength of the earth to widen that gap even further, and when compared to the much weaker and more fragile unicorns, that gap becomes insurmountable.

Forget combat sports, there wasn't a single formal physical sport in Equestria where unicorns competed directly with earth ponies: not track sports, not field sports, not team sports, especially not hoofball.

The fact that this mare seemed to completely lack any formal martial training was hardly a consolation. If anything that made her more dangerous, a huge part of Equestrian martial arts – particularly martial arts aimed at earth ponies – was learning how to control one's strength.

With the pacifist temperament of the average Equestrian, well trained ponies almost never went for the kill, but a poorly trained earth pony often didn't know how not to.

And an earth pony abusing steroids? Well, the chances of a baseline unicorn – no matter how skilled – surviving close quarters combat with her while unarmoured were ... sub-optimal. Even a Twilight – who were far more robust and physically capable than the average Equestrian unicorn – would be unlikely to escape completely unscathed.

The mare sneered, pawing the ground in aggression, “I ain't afraid of your witchcraft, witch.”

The tribalist slur drew several gasps from the bakery's customers.

Twilight frowned, many a unicorn have died due to accusations of witchcraft. “Not one step closer ...” He lit his horn and spread his wings, “... I COMMAND you.”

The mare's sneer deepened and she took another step, “Colt thinks he's a princess.” She snorted derisively.

Twilight sighed and forced more power through his horn and enforced his domain upon the belligerent mare, compressing her domain under the oppressive force of his power. It was a gauche abuse of power, but Twilight was rapidly losing patience with this mare; he wanted this nonsense over with.

But, instead of being cowed by the spiritual pressure, the mare let out a manic whinny and charged faster than a mare of her musclebound bulk should be able to move, before throwing a heavy right hook at the alicorn.

Not expecting the attack, Twilight was struck on the cheek, reflexively taking a half step back, more shocked than injured, “It's Treason, then.”

He was overtaken by a burning Rage, how dare this lowlife scum strike him. It took every scrap of Twilight's willpower to avoid goring the mare, or shattering her skull with a similar strike, or tearing her filthy throat out with his teeth.

Instead, he replied with a wing strike to the mare's chest, faster than a pony could blink.

The mare was launched a dozen metres into the far wall and fell to the ground, gasping for air as she coughed up blood. It was likely that her sternum had been shattered from the strike.

Twilight tilted his head, perhaps he had struck her harder than he intended ... oh, well, not like he could even force himself to care.

Then, somehow, the mare started to get up, despite her severe difficulties breathing.

What the buck? Even a Twilight would be hard pressed to continue fighting with such an injury. “Yeah, no, enough of that.” Twilight sighed, and he lit his horn again, ruthlessly crushing the injured mare's waning domain as he lifted her telekinetically.

“Okay, the thing that little monsters like you never understand ...” Twilight snarled as he trotted around the levitated mare, “... is that there's always a bigger monster.”

Umbra gave a concerned look at her sister and silently mouthing 'monster', “Uh, Sparkle, I don't think she's listening.”

“What?” Twilight asked before glancing at the mare.

The mare's mouth was frothing red in madness and her eyes were filled with pure unthinking rage, betraying not even a shred of higher thought.

Twilight recoiled in disgust, “You know what, I've had enough of this. I'll deal with you later.” He cast an overpowered stunning spell at the mare before teleporting her away in a blinding flash. “What the actual buck was that?”

Umbra sighed, “I really hope I'm wrong, but I think that was Berzurk.”

“Berserk?”

“Uh, Berzurk, spelled with a 'zu', is a 'next gen' steroid. It's twice as powerful as anything we've seen before and is extremely addictive, but the primary defining feature of it is the blind rages its users experience, hence the name.”

“Huh, I've never heard of it.”

“It's new, really new; we first encountered it a few years back; some mercs have taken to using it.”

Shadow scowled, “And it's major bad news. I've seen a mare rip her own comrade limb from limb over a minor disagreement.”

Twilight eyed Umbra, “And how certain are you that this mare was using this Berzurk?”

“Uh, I can't be completely certain without sending her blood back to the Manor for testing, but I can't think of another drug that would have quite that extreme a reaction; she attacked an alicorn stallion in broad daylight with two dozen witnesses. It could be something else, like a curse or possession, but ...” the fact that such things were rather rare went unspoken, Umbra sighed, “I really hope I'm wrong though, selling Berzurk to mercs in some war-torn hellhole is one thing, but selling it to Equestrian civies is a major escalation. Damn, those bastards.”

“That would be a bit of a problem, let's hope this isn't the beginning of a pattern.” Twilight said darkly, he had a sinking feeling that this might not be the last time he encountered this 'Berzurk'. “Shadow, I need you to go get a doctor.”

“A doctor? Are you okay?”

Twilight shook his head, “Not for me, it'd take a lot more than that to injure an alicorn.”

“Oh.”

“I sent her to the dungeon, she should be unconscious for at least a day, so it should be safe.”

Shadow paused, quickly glancing between Twilight and Umbra.

Umbra sighed, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Uh, will you be okay on your own ...” Shadow spoke with an uncharacteristic amount of insecurity.

“Yes, we'll be fine, go.” Umbra replied, sounding far from certain.

“You're sure?”

“No, but the quicker you leave, the quicker you get back to your post.”

Twilight watched Shadow swiftly canter out of the bakery with a small frown; for as much as this day had been a nightmare for him, it certainly hadn't been any easier on his guards.

“Sparkle, we need to talk about expanding your guard.”

Twilight sighed, “I never wanted a guard ...”

... I never wanted to be royalty.

“I know,” Umbra sighed, “but today's events proves that it is no longer merely a case of legal obligation. The two of us, we ...” she paused, “... we can't protect you, not alone.”

I shouldn't even need protection. “Fine, but this is a conversation for later, right now we have to focus on getting through this day without killing anypony.”

“Right.” Umbra grimaced, neglecting to mention how likely it was that they had already failed. The alicorn stallion hit like a train, and she had seen many ponies die from but a fraction of the impact with which he had struck the roided out mare. With a bucking wing strike. Umbra shook her head, she had known that alicorns were stronger than mortal ponies, but that was bucking ridiculous.

“Oh, are you alright, dearie?”

“Yes, Mrs. Cake, I'm fine. We alicorns are much more robust than we appear, it'd take a lot more than that to actually injure me.”

“Oh, well, thank you for dealing with that mare. She was giving us ... difficulties.” The middle aged earth mare limped over to the stallion, clearly favouring her left foreleg and wincing with every step, “Pinkie normally deals with our difficult customers, but I think even she would struggle with that mare.”

Twilight frowned, it didn't take a genius to guess what had happened. “So Pinkie isn't here?”

Mrs. Cake shook her head, “Pinkie Pie isn't in right now ... honestly, we haven't seen her much in the last three weeks, something about a party emergency.”

Twilight nodded for a second before freezing, “So, uh, by 'a party emergency', you mean 'a series of multiple party emergencies', correct?” 'Party Emergencies' were a semi-regular occurrence in Ponyville; for as much as Pinkie liked to plan her parties ahead of time, there were some occurrences even she couldn't predict – normally a new pony moving to Ponyville or a foal discovering her Special Talent – hence a 'party emergency'. That said, such 'emergencies' were typically rather short lived – Twilight's own 'Welcome to Ponyville' party had been assembled in something like 4 hours – and Twilight had never known them to last more than two days.

Mrs. Cake shook her head, “No, it was definitely just a single emergency.”

Twilight involuntarily shuddered, What could possibly warrant a three week long party emergency? He shook his head, No, Pinkie isn't an elder horror or Outsider, she's just an incredibly friendly pony. “So, did she ever mention what this 'party emergency' even is?”

Mrs. Cake lightly smiled and shook her head, “You know how Pinkie is, it's apparently 'classified uber duper top secret'.” the mare paused, “Oh, I'm sorry, dearie, I got so wrapped up in talking that I forgot to ask if you wanted anything.”

“Oh, no I'm not hungr ...” Twilight blushed as he was cut off by his stomach growling, “Eh, heh, heh, maybe I'll take a cupcake.”

Mrs. Cake trotted behind the counter, moving surprisingly quickly despite her limp. She collected a dozen assorted cupcakes in a box before hoofing it the stallion, “Here, it's on the house.”

“Oh, you don't need to do that, Mrs. Cake.” Twilight replied, making a stop gesture with a wing.

“Of course I do, dearie, and I'm not going to be talked out of it.” The mare levelled a serious look.

Twilight paused, this was an argument he knew he wasn't going to win, “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Cake.” he accepted the box with his magic before levitating it to Spike. “Well, I'll get out of your mane, I don't want to hold up your paying customers. I still have to visit Rarity and Fluttershy.”

“Well, I won't hold you,” Mrs. Cake frowned, “just be careful. Mares these days ...” the baker looked to the wall cracked from the collision of the berserk mare and shook her head, “... they just don't know how to treat a stallion.”

“I understand your concern, but I am fully capable of defending myself.” Twilight replied, somewhat deceptively; in truth, he simply could not trust himself with self-defence, not with the destructive combination of his inequine aggression, emotional instability and alicorn strength.

“I have no doubt of that, dearie, but you shouldn't have to.” Mrs. Cake sighed, “Oh, what is this town coming to? Mares attacking innocent stallions in broad daylight.”

Twilight sighed as he trotted out of the bakery, that could have gone better.

“Oh, sweet, sapphire, my favourite.” Spike exclaimed from his withers before greedily devouring a bejewelled cupcake, his teeth trivially shearing through the second hardest mundane mineral known to ponykind.

Twilight chuckled and shook his head, at least he had Spike.

Captain Twilight Aura felt a deep dread as she followed Frost, her father – or perhaps, her sire, as he certainly hadn't a single paternal bone in his body –through the winding halls of the Twilight Manor.

His guidance was unnecessary, of course, everypony in the Twilight Manor eventually learned where Lady Velvet's 'Lair' was – if, for no other reason than to avoid it – and Aura had been born here.

Nonetheless, Twilight Frost was Lady Velvet's enforcer, and he did his best to make certain that his elder sister's will was done, no matter how irrational or counter-productive. While Aura was not one to shirk her responsibilities, there was no lack of Twilights that would neglect meeting with their head of house if at all possible.

Frost's presence was cold, both literally and figuratively, he didn't even bother to look at his eldest daughter as he silently put one hoof in front of the other. He was a firm believer in 'not wasting words'.

Aura sighed, it was hard not to feel resentment towards the stallion who was supposed to be her father, a stallion who was unable to care about anypony but his older sister.

Nonetheless, Aura couldn't help but feel that she and her younger sisters had gotten off lightly; at least Frost had the humility to understand that he wasn't father material and let Aura, Flare and Spark be raised by better ponies. Lady Velvet's daughters – well son and daughter, now – hadn't been so lucky.

Young filly Sparkle had been isolated from the rest of the house and driven nearly mad by her mother's malignant influence, slowly escalating until something had happened. Something that drove the Twilight Council into a fervour that nopony had seen before or since.

Aura had no clue what the filly had done – she herself had only been a teen at that time – but considering that the Twilight Council had considered sending young Sparkle to apprentice under bucking Princess Celestia preferable to leaving her in Lady Velvet's grasp, it had to have been bad.

Aura felt a burst of shame, guilt and regret. She should have done more, she shouldn't have let her fear of Lady Velvet keep her away from her little cousin. Twilights may not be Equestrians, but they're still a social kind, isolation like that is damaging to the psyche.

The only one who was brave enough to risk Lady Velvet's wrath had been Shining Armour, a stallion, and an Equestrian at that.

It was that event that made Aura promise to herself that she would never again let her fear of the infamous 'Lady Velvet the Mad' control her.

Nonetheless, Aura couldn't help but feel terrified, Lady Velvet was erratic and irrational on a good day, and on a bad day ... well, there were very few things more dangerous than a demented Archmage. And while many doubted Lady Velvet's competence when it came to rule, nopony doubted her power or skill in the arcane arts.

She really hoped Lady Velvet wasn’t in a bad mood, there was no telling how she was taking her firstborn daughter's transformation into a stallion.

Aura shook her head, there was no sense in dwelling on it. Predicting Lady Velvet's moods was harder than predicting Everfree's weather.

Suddenly, Frost came to a halt.

Oh, we're already here, Aura thought as she gazed upon the solid stone door.

'Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here' was engraved in the stone doorframe, and a crude image of a pony's skull and crossbones, surrounded by the words 'kEEp ouT' was scrawled with crayon on a single sheet of paper taped to the door.

Aura grimaced, she knew the incongruity was likely designed to destabilize visitors, but that didn't make it any less concerning.

Aura glanced at Frost, finding the stallion standing there nearly stationary, more akin a golem than a being of flesh and blood.

Aura sighed and approached the door; there was no point in delaying this.

The first thing she noticed as she approached was the muffled sounds of a mare ... chanting?

She shook her head, placed a hoof on the door and pushed it open.

“... Chart Fhtagn. Ia Ia Shipping Chart Fhtagn.” Lady Velvet the Mad chanted as she danced with inequine fluidity, mimicking some kind of occult or pagan ritual, a half-rotted mangy stuffed bobcat held in her grasp.

Aura glanced around the room and shuddered. It was a nightmare; in the centre of the room hung a crude crayon drawing of a purple alicorn stallion – it didn't take a genius to recognize Sparkle – suspended by uncountable hundreds of strings – spanning all colour that exist, and several that didn't – tying it to hundreds of other images, mostly of ponies, but some of other things. Things whose images burnt the mind to even look at.

Aura briefly closed her eyes and centred herself – drawing on her counter-cognitohazard training – before opening her eyes and taking a second look around the room, her eyes sliding past the hazardous images without seeing them.

“Ia Ia Shipping Chart Fhtagn.” Velvet continued to dance, effortlessly moving past the countless lengths of yarn without even disturbing them.

Now that Aura had hardened her mind, she started to recognize many of the ponies in the images, over in that corner were the three alicorn princesses, and on that wall were Sparkle's fellow bearers of the Elements of Harmony, and over on that wall were most of the single mares in Twilight Manor ... including Aura and her younger sisters.

“Ia Ia Shipping Chart Fhtagn.”

Aura's stomach twisted in disgust, she had no desire to be 'shipped' with her cousin.

Suddenly Lady Velvet froze, ceasing her chant.

Aura's stomach dropped.

Lady Velvet's head slowly turned towards her niece, slowly revealing her inequinely wide smile to the younger mare.

Aura shivered involuntarily.

Velvet's head stopped turning as it directly faced Aura, her eyes staring deep into her soul.

Neither mare moved for several seconds.

“Ah, Captain Aura, mmyes, waiting for you, I have been.”

“Uh, I came as soon as I was informed.”

“Know you, a conundrum, I have?”

“Sparkle is a stallion now?”

“Ah, mmyes, a daughter no more a daughter is, a son, a son!” Velvet exclaimed in excitement with a rictus grin, before bouncing over to Aura, slipping impossibly through the forest of yarn.

Aura involuntarily took a step back, well, she's in a good mood, that's either good, or really, really bad. “Why did you call me here?”

“My son, is a son, is a son. Mares, he needs, mares, many mares ...” The mare froze, her ear flicking towards the stuffed bobcat in her grip, “... Mmyes, Vexequin?” she was silent for a moment, “Aye, Vexequin, many, many mares.”

“Right ...” Aura withheld a gag, she really hoped Lady Velvet didn't mean what she thought she meant. “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“Mares, find many, you will. Needs them my son, much need, very mares.”

“Uh, huh ...” as much as she hated herself for it, Aura was relieved; Lady Velvet did not wish to force Aura or her younger sisters into conjugal relations with Sparkle – not that Aura would acquiesce if she were – no, she just wanted them to go out and 'acquire mares' for him, because that's a good use of valuable military assets during wartime.

The Twilight in Aura scoffed, by asking Aura to aid Sparkle in finding wives Lady Velvet was shaming her own son, implying that he was unable to seduce wives for himself; a prospect that Aura was incredibly doubtful of, alicorn stallions have always been in far greater demand than supply. Even with the confounding factor of Sparkle being a former mare, Aura couldn't help but get offended on his behalf.

It was a pivotal achievement for all Twilights, stallion or mare, to find and romance your wives or husband respectively, through your own wit and charm.

Something that Aura had insofar been rather unsuccessful at, Damn you, Cadenza, Shining was mine until you went and filled his head with your degenerate notions of monogamy, 'Princess of Love' my flank.

“Hmmm, what, waiting for, you? Needs mares, does my Sparkle. Delaying, you are.”

Aura flinched back, “What, you mean now? Eta Team just got back from the front, they're due some leave, a week at least.”

Lady Velvet went silent and stared at the younger mare.

Aura met her gaze, ignoring every instinct that told her to look away.

“Fine,” Lady Velvet scowled, “days three, have you. Then mares, much mares.”

Aura bit back an argument, “Yes, my lady. Eta Team will leave to 'find mares' in three days. Now, excuse me, but I have much planning to do.” Aura stated before turning to leave the room.

Lady Velvet said nothing as she watched Aura leave.

Aura cantered swiftly away from Lady Velvet's 'lair', paying no mind as she passed her fathers statue-like form.

What now? How am I supposed to 'find mares' for Sparkle? I'm a soldier, not a matchmaker. I'm useless at this romance shit, I'm 35 and still single, how the buck am I supposed to find mares good enough for an alicorn prince?

Suddenly there was a flash of amber fire and suddenly a large weight appeared in Aura's left saddlebag, “Wha ..?” Aura turned her head to find the culprit, “Princess Lepidoptera?!” she exclaimed in outrage.

The changeling in question flopped out of Aura's saddlebag and hit the ground with a thud, “Ugh, I don't feel so good ...” she said woozily, before vomiting a revolting black sludge onto the stone floor.

As she watched the black goop bubble and hiss, as it slowly burnt its way through solid stone, Aura's anger was overcome with concern, “Are you okay?”

Dora hacked up another glob of the sludge before turning to Aura, “'Mfine ... just purging ... bad ... emotions.” she spoke between regurgitation.

Aura frowned softly as she patted the changeling's withers with a hoof, “Let it all out ...” Aura consoled, torn between concern and fascination. Changelings were so interesting, Aura hadn't known it was possible to poison a changeling with negative emotions, but it made sense.

Aura watched the goop slowly evaporate into nothingness, this new information had promise. If they could manage to stabilize and synthesize this substance, it could be an edge against Queen Chrysalis and her Green Hive, if they could aerosolize or aetherialize it ...

... well, hatred gas shells might be enough of an advantage to break the miserable stalemate the war with the changelings was stuck in. House Twilight might finally be able to invade the so-called 'Grand Hive' and destroy that horrible anti-magic throne of the Green Queen.

And with the Green Hive defeated, House Twilight could commit more resources and marepower to the Gryphon Civil War and crush the filthy, degenerate, pony-eating scum that called themselves a 'rebellion'.

Aura covertly lit her horn and cast several analysis spells on the substance, How interesting. It was composed of water and a familiar magically active complex of simple sugars, saturated with emotionally aligned mana, chemically indistinguishable from the glowing pink gel that Dora occasionally excreted to store emotional energy for later, colloquially known as 'changeling honey'.

Yet despite that, the magically charged syrup was acting more caustic than thaumetic sulphite. While it was hardly surprising to see magical imbuement alter the physical and chemical properties of a substance, it was strange to see how much of a difference emotional alignment made in this case, without anything even resembling a spell-form, too.

And unfortunately, that alteration of chemical properties was the root cause of the 'dark honey's' instability, as the induced acidity was attacking the very sugar that allowed the substance to even store mana – of course, the Manor wards deciding that the honey was a hostile, external threat and trying to destroy it wasn't helping – if House Twilight wanted to use negative emotions as a weapon, they would need to find a more chemically stable complex to hold it.

Dora finally finished hacking up the honey, her chitin slightly brightening.

“Are you feeling better?” Aura asked, showing no outward sign of her contemplation.

The changeling nodded weakly.

“Now, Dora, what possessed you to spy on me?” The ling's actions were a massive breach of procedure, and while, luckily, nothing classified had been discussed in Aura's meeting, it had still been a major violation of OpSec. Heh, Intelligence is going to have an aneurysm when I report this.

“Spy? No, never.” Dora denied, “You were going with a bad pony. I couldn't let you go alone.”

Aura sighed, “Dora, as much as your concern is appreciated, I am more than capable of protecting myself.” She paused, “What do you mean by 'bad pony'?”

“His emotions ... they were ... I don't know ... like anger and hatred and disdain, but cold and wrong. It was horrible, he's horrible. I thought he was going to hurt you, or worse.”

Aura sighed, “Frost ... he has a condition, he doesn't process emotions normally. But he wasn't going to hurt me, if you could believe it, he's actually my father.”

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say, as Dora's expression became one of abject horror, “But, but, but, he doesn't love you! A father needs to love his daughters, he needs to or they come out holey and twisted and wrong.”

Aura sighed, and looked into the changeling's eyes “As I said earlier, Dora, ponies aren't physiologically dependent on love like changelings are, we don't suffer deformities if we are insufficiently loved.”

“Oh, right.” Dora flinched and looked away, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

Aura quirked an eyebrow, “Sorry for what?”

“Mother always said that ponies don't like it when you tell them that their loved ones don't love them, even if it's true, especially if it's true. I'm sorry for telling you that your father doesn't love you.”

Aura sighed again, “It's okay Dora, I already knew. Frost's inability to love is hardly a secret. And it's okay, he may have not loved us, but we have many aunts and uncles and cousins that do.” Frost, for all his many faults, at least had the wherewithal to recognize that he was not cut out for foal rearing, and had not interfered when other ponies had taken it upon themselves to fill that role; unlike somepony.

In truth, Aura felt grateful, she had no idea where she would be today if Frost had been as possessive of his children as Lady Velvet had been of hers. I probably would be living in some small village, pretending House Twilight doesn't exist, just like Sparkle. Although I somehow doubt I would have become an alicorn ... or a stallion.

Aura turned back to Dora, “So, Dora, compared to the average changeling, how good are you at transformation?”

The changeling looked surprised, “Uh, mother always said I was pretty good.” she said bashfully, blushing orange.

“Like, how good, exactly? How many other changelings in your mother's hive could have transformed into something that small?”

“Um, uh, none; just me. Changing your size when transforming is ... hard, many lings can't do it at all, but I've always been good at it. Father told me that 'It must be your Special Talent', and I said 'Changelings don't have those, you silly pony'.”

“And what about Queen Chrysalis's hive?”

Dora shook her head, “No, definitely not, the Green Queen doesn't even have any noble lings; collectors and infiltrators and soldiers and some praetorians and lots and lots of low cast, but no nobles of princesses; mother says the Green Queen would never give up even the tiniest bit of power, and she'd never lay a ling that could someday replace her. A queen's the only ling that lays, but princesses become queens and nobles can be made into princesses.” she paused, “The Green Queen ... she does not treat her lings well, and if there were any nobles or princesses, the Green lings might try to overthrow her. But without anyling to replace her ... well noling would ever dare, it would mean the end of the hive.”

Aura nodded, “And you're certain that a collector or infiltrator couldn't manage the same thing?”

“Yes, collectors can only do ponies, really, and usually only two or three specific forms; infiltrators are a bit more flexible, but only really good lings can even go as small as a large dog.”

Aura let out a breath in relief, Dora might be a security nightmare, but at least she was a unique security nightmare. Aura smirked, a unique security nightmare that was on their side. “So, Dora, what is your opinion on Lady Velvet?”

The changeling frowned, “I don't like her, she's mean and selfish and dishonest.”

Aura stared for a second, that wasn't the response she expected, it wasn't at all. She had been expecting something like 'mad' or 'deranged' or something akin to the revulsion she had responded to Frost with. But, 'mean and selfish and dishonest'? Aura could definitely see how 'mean' fit, Velvet was not known as being a particularly kind mare, but 'selfish' and 'dishonest'? Well that didn't really fit anything of what Aura knew about the mare.

Aura shook her head, it wasn't important, “Well, why don't you go back to your room, we'll have a longer chat later, but right now I have captain business to do.”

“Yes, captain.” Dora thumped her chest in salute, before trotting off, seemingly no worse for wear despite her recent poisoning.

Aura sighed, oh, Dora what am I going to do with you? She set off at a steady trot, noting the black honey had completely evaporated during their short conversation, leaving only a small scar in the floor; Intelligence would need to be informed in pony immediately, and while she was there she might as well see if they have any leads on Eta Team's new ‘mission’.

Chapter 6: Truths and Deceptions

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Prologue

It was a cold and miserable spring day in the Everfree Forest. The sky was dark and overcast, letting loose a constant light rain, the kind that soaked right through the thickest fur and chilled ponies to the bone. A cold silence pervaded the forest, the animals and beasts and monsters who called it home were absent, likely hiding in their dens and lairs, awaiting the summer’s warmth.

Yet as Discord walked slowly through the ruined halls of the castle – the once vaulted ceiling torn away by the Nightmare’s wrath – he felt no desire to seek shelter. It felt rather appropriate considering his current mood.

Discord took another step and snorted, if any pony saw him like this they might not recognize him. For Discord Lord of Chaos and Disharmony was neither flying nor floating nor strutting nor skipping nor even a trotting a proper promenade. Instead he was moving in a way that no pony – living or dead – had ever seen him do, a leisurely walk.

Yet there was a reason for this strange circumstance.

For The Spirit of Chaos was massively, inconceivably, resoundingly bored.

His best friend Fluttershy was busy preparing her ‘little animal friends’ for their upcoming breeding season; a task that Discord wished to be very far from.

The Spirit of Chaos shuddered, he had accidentally caught part of one of the quiet pony’s biweekly ‘Sex Ed: Rodent Edition’ lessons earlier in the year and he had no plan to repeat that experience once, yet alone the dozens of times that staying in the butter yellow pegasus' house would entail.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t fully trust himself to avoid remarking on how much the pony breeding season resembled those base beasts that they thought themselves so much above.

Such comments, for some reason, offended ponies.

It was not his fault that draconequi were simply a more refined species.

None of his other friends were available either.

Twilight was in the Canterlot Archives doing book-pony things, something Discord would otherwise be happy to ‘help’ with if not for the fact that Celestia had long ago banned him from the place.

Rarity, also in Canterlot, was attending some sort of party hosted by another of her high class associates. A mare by the name of Deep Stain, apparently a former Royal Maid before her meteoric rise to become a major mover and shaker.

Discord frowned, while he didn’t normally remember the names of any of Rarity’s many acquaintances this name had struck him as odd. What Destiny could a pony possibly have that would name her a ‘deep stain’.

Discord shook his head, ponies ultimately were good-natured beings, it couldn’t be that bad.

Rainbow Dash was away in Cloudsdale for some big weather pony meeting while Applejack was busy on her farm ...

... and Pinkie Pie was preparing for a ‘CK Class Party Emergency’...

... whatever that meant.

And, of course, neither Celestia nor Luna wanted to see his face after the ‘Great Cakening of 1002’.

Also the entire ‘siding with Tirek’ thing, but he was 90% certain that the Cakening was the main point of contention.

Discord smirked, worth it.

So here he was, in Everfree, a place that had once been his home, seeking something to alleviate his apocalyptic boredom.

Well, calling this castle his old home was stretching it, as the entire structure had been built in the decades following his petrification.

Nonetheless, it was all that remained of the Great City of Everfree.

The draconequus sighed, not a single day went by where he didn’t miss his old home, the city that had taken in a strange and lonely being – the last of his kind – without so much as a protest.

Everfree had never been the most peaceful of cities, her clans were always jostling for position and prestige. Nor had it been the most safe, with the forest always probing and testing her inhabitants. Nor was it the most prosperous, much of the city had been without running water.

Yet Everfree had been his home.

Now, over two thousand years from his petrification there was absolutely nothing left of the city but this castle.

He had been there, imprisoned in stone. the day the city had been razed to the ground. The day her ponies – mare, stallion and foal – had been slaughtered at the hooves of the Lunatic Cults. All in revenge for the banishing of their queen.

Although he had never known the massacre was so complete until he had asked Celestia mere months ago.

The period of time following the Razing of Everfree was one the most painful in his long life. Watching the burnt remains of his beloved home slowly being consumed by the forest, while the sun and moon moved erratically above.

And then Celestia had shown up to bring him to her newly built capital, to serve as a glorified lawn ornament in her stupid hedge maze.

Discord groaned, Ugh, he was being introspective, he hated when that happened. He desperately needed something to entertain him, this damned castle better have something interesting.

As if summoned by the draconequus' griping, he came upon a room – seemingly untouched by the cataclysm that had shattered the castle – empty but for a single mirror.

As Discord approached the mirror he read the inscription ‘etaF fo evaeW eht tub noitcelfer ruoy ton wohs I’, he snorted, cute.

Discord was intrigued, a mirror showing the Weave of Fate seems like the perfect remedy to his current predicament.

He stepped in front of the mirror and took in the reflection of an empty room. He tilted his head, while the mirror outright said it wouldn’t show his reflection but he nonetheless assumed that something would happen.

After several moments something appeared on the surface of the mirror, a strange pictogram of a paperclip with eyes beside a box containing text.

‘It looks like you are attempting to use the Mirror of Etaf™. Do you need assistance?’

Discord paused and tilted his head, “I do?”

‘Thank you for choosing the Mirror of Etaf™ registered trademark of High Artificer Sharp Foresight, proud member of the Artificer's Guild of Equestria. The Mirror of Etaf™ lets one plumb the very threads of Fate itself to reveal the future for the low, low price of three payments of 100 000 bits, payable directly to High Artificer Sharp Foresight.’

Discord sighed, of course there was a catch; after all, why else would such a powerful artifact be left in these ruins, if not for the fact that it had been left completely inoperable? It seems like he would need to find something else to entertain himself. Discord started to turn away from the mirror, but before he could another message appeared.

‘Greetings Lord Discord, would you like to redeem your free trial?’

Maybe not, the Draconequus tilted his head and snorted “Sure.”

‘Great, your free trial has begun Lord Discord’

‘To use the Mirror of Etaf™ please state the name of an individual and either a timeframe or a specific event. Please note that the Mirror of Etaf cannot scry events that never happen’

The draconequus laid his chin in his talon and stared into the mirror, “Mirror, show me my glorious self in 1000 years.”

The reflection of the empty room quickly faded to black before suddenly turning a shocking solid blue, ERROR 404: TIME THREAD NOT FOUND declared solid black text in the centre of the mirror.

Discord was confused for a moment before the strange paperclip creature reappeared.

‘It is important to remember that 1000 years is a very long time, far longer than most ponies live.’

Discord was offended, he was not ‘most ponies’. Even without a Mantle a draconequus could easily live a thousand years, and Discord, Lord of Chaos and Disharmony was not without a Mantle. Nonetheless, he understood the implication, and he hated it.

“Mirror, show me Princess Celestia in 1000 years.”

What proceeded was identical to what came before, the same fade to black, the same shockingly blue image, the same error and the paperclip creature appearing after a few seconds with the same message.

Attempting the same with the other three Princesses also had the same results, and – even more concerning – so had attempting to scry a mere 200 years into the future of all five of the Mantled Immortals.

Discord was agitated ...

... no – much as he hated it – Discord was terrified.

Despite what the paperclip creature had claimed, 200 years was not a long time, at least nor for a true Immortal, Discord had been entombed in stone for well over ten times that time. It was much akin to a mortal's decade; a considerable amount of time, but far from inconceivable and well within one’s expected lifespan.

If the mirror’s implications were correct, then in a mere two hundred years all five of the world’s known Mantled Immortals would be dead.

Five of the six Mantled Immortals, can’t forget the Tree, the damnable Tree.

To be Immortal does not merely mean to be unaging, many mortal species were beyond the grip of senescence. Dragons, draconequi, even natural born alicorns who had not found their Mantle yet, all of them had nothing to fear from age.

Nor does Immortal mean to be outright beyond Death, many a Mantled had died in Discord’s long life, some of whom died at his talon.

Rather, real Immortality – the immortality that was brought with the possession of a Mantle – means that one is simply outside the dominion of the Wheel of Mortality. That death is no longer an inevitability, but rather the direct result of a Significant act.

As one particularly poetic sage in Everfree had put it ‘The lives of the gods are subject not to the whims of time nor chance’.

To put it all simply, the death of a Mantled Immortal is not happenstance and never coincidence; it is always proof of enemy action.

And the death of five?

That all but identified the enemy as the Wheel of Destiny itself.

If, that is, this damned mirror had not led him astray.

Discord needed to know more, so he did something that every prophet and farseer had always warned against. “Mirror, show me the death of Princess Celestia Sol Invictus, Mantled Immortal and Alicorn of the Sun.” He was not quite daring enough to scry his own death, but to scry the deaths of his fellow Immortals? Aye, that he was.

‘Are you certain that you want to scry this event, scrying the deaths of known individuals is deemed inadvisable by 9 out of 10 seers.’

“I am.” The Draconequus said with force.

Once again the mirror faded to black, but this time instead of turning blue it faded into a scene of a sterile white room, Discord recognized it as a modern healer's building, a 'hospital' if he was not incorrect.

The immobile form of Princess Celestia laid on a simple bed with pale blue covers. The alicorn was covered in wires and tubes originating from dozens of large expensive looking machines. Of only one of them did Discord have any idea of its purpose, a display showing a jagged red line that apparently measures a pony’s heartbeat.

Discord briefly smirked as he remembered when Celestia had taken him to get a ‘physical’, apparently the machine was not supposed to show loopy-loops or vertical asymptotes.

Discord shook his head, now was not the time for that, he was watching the death of a mare that – while he may not view as a friend – he held a deep respect for.

Celestia looked bad, even if Discord had not the context to know she was dying, it would be obvious.

The ethereal mane she had taken to wearing recently was absent for a pink mane much like her youth.

'Much like', but undeniably Less; for her mane had lost a great deal of vibrancy. Similarly her hair had taken on a much greyer pallor, fur, mane and even the Sun emblem on her flank had faded in a way that belied the presence of the spectre of Death. Her eyes were open, unblinking and vacant. Her breathing – while stable and rhythmic – was shallow and subtly wrong in a way Discord couldn't place.

Discord was silent as he watched for a couple breaths before his eyes opened in shock, there were no muscular contractions. He tracked his eyes from the largest tube in the alicorn’s throat over to a device that looked suspiciously like a bellows. She’s not breathing, her lungs are being inflated and deflated like Luna’s stallion blow-up doll!

Does this even count as alive?

Apparently so, since the mirror was showing this moment instead of earlier.

Discord tore his eyes away from the pitiful sight of the dying alicorn and looked to the four mares that were standing in the room. The two closer were unfamiliar, both wearing the uniform of the physicians of modern Equestria – either ‘doctors’ or ‘nurses’ Discord didn’t understand the distinction – they were a unicorn and pegasus and had emblems of what discord recognized as a pony’s brain and heart – the organ, not the simplified pictogram of a pony’s rump that was associated with love – respectively.

The two physicians were talking to two much more familiar ponies. One Princess Luna and Princess Twilight Sparkle, although strangely, only the latter was wearing regalia. That’s a queen’s crown not a princess’ tiara. Princess Luna – or perhaps just Luna – wore a face of barely contained grief while Queen Twilight had the placid expression that Discord had learned to associate with the modern Celestia. The expression of an unfeeling ruler unbothered by the trials of leadership.

It, quite honestly, gave him the creeps, especially on the face of such a young mare. The Twilight in the mirror couldn’t be more than five years older than the present one.

Discord strained his ears, trying to hear what the physicians were saying, after all scrying sound was no more difficult than scrying images, no artificer worth her salt would neglect the former when she had already established the latter.

Suddenly, as if summoned by his thoughts, the paperclip creature appeared again, ‘Want to hear the future as you see it, well for a small monthly charger of 200 000 bits, now you can. Introducing the Mirror of Etaf™ premium subscription, now with high definition stereo sound! The Mirror of Etaf™, the future is hear!’

There was a cracking sound as the stone tile that Discord laid upon shattered. How dare that paperclip creature interrupt the death of Celestia in order to beg for bits. Discord suddenly wished that this High Artificer Sharp Foresight was still alive so he could wring her greedy neck.

Well, it was a good thing that the draconequus had had two thousand years to practice lip reading.

Discord’s wrath was interrupted by a change. The physicians had apparently finished explaining the situation to the two alicorns.

Luna made a deferential nod to Twilight and said something that Discord could not read.

Twilight shook her head slowly and Discord recognized the words on her lips, ‘No, she’s your sister.’

Luna made a small nod and a tear rolled down her face, she turned to the mortal mares, ‘I’ll do it.’

The four mares trotted slowly over to one of the machines and one of the physicians pointed to a switch with her hoof.

Luna shook in grief as she reached a hoof towards the switch and flicked it.

Suddenly the bellows-like device halted, Celestia’s chest suddenly went still.

Luna immediately broke down sobbing, Queen Twilight wrapped her forehooves and wings around the larger mare.

While that was happening discord saw the alicorn’s heartbeat graph become smaller and weaker before missing a beat. Her heart beat three more times before the smooth, crisp line became a chaotic random jumble, and it was a but a few moments before that jumble gave way to a simple flat line.

The machines weren’t just breathing for her, they were beating her heart. Oh, Celestia, what happened to you?

As Discord thought that last thought, the mirror suddenly went black.

There was a moment of silence as Discord contemplated what he had just seen. Immortals do not die of natural causes. Discord shed a tear as he remembered the brash and fiery mare that had once met him barb for barb. What had happened to her?

Discord tapped the shattered stone with his talon, he needed to know more, “Mirror, show me the death of Princess Luna Moonsong Nocturne, Mantled Immortal and Alicorn of the Moon.”

‘Are you certain that you want to scry this event, scrying the deaths of individuals is deemed inadvisable by 9 out of 10 seers.’

“I am. Do not ask again.”

This time Discord was once again greeted by a familiar blue image, albeit the text was different this time, and even less useful.

ERROR 400: BAD REQUEST

Once again the paperclip creature appeared after a few seconds, ‘Please be advised that the Mirror of Etaf™ is not capable of scrying events that happen outside the domain of the Terrestrial Plane.’

Discord snorted, Well that’s surprisingly helpful. Discord grimaced, he could imagine a grief stricken Luna taking out her pain upon the denizens of the Lower and Outer Planes, until she met something that she could not defeat.

Discord sighed, he had started this, he would see it through, “Mirror, show me the death of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, Mantled Immortal and Alicorn of Eros.”

The mirror faded to black again and when it faded in, the scene was dark, the Princess of Erotic Love was holding a bouquet of flowers as she wept at the foot of a large gravestone.

Discord did not need to see the familiar emblem of shield and star to know to whom the grave belonged. He shook his head, it was never a good idea for a Mantled to fall for a mortal, certainly not a mortal subject to the whims of time.

Then another pony appeared, a mare concealed in a dark cloak, apparently moving silently enough that the grieving alicorn did not notice her approach.

The mare stopped a half pace away and apparently spoke something judging by the swivelling of Cadence’s ears.

The alicorn turned around to face the other mare, her eyes streaked with tears.

The cloaked mare lifted a hoof and dropped the hood of her cloak, revealing a scowling severe face, with the curved blade-like horn characteristic of the umbrum, a twisted sub-tribe of unicorns changed by dark Corruption Magic.

The mare’s eyes lit up the familiar green and purple and her horn the inky black of the aforementioned magic.

Cadence’s eyes widened and she attempted to scramble away, but was caught in the mare’s black aura.

The umbrum smiled with malice ‘For Lord Sombra’ she used telekinesis to draw a hideous abomination of a dagger (Discord counted at least thirty separate spikes, most of which seemed to serve no purpose but to make it more inconvenient and dangerous for a creature to hold) and thrust it directly into Cadence's Eye.

Discord briefly saw the splatter of the alicorn’s dark blood from her destroyed eye socket before the mirror went black.

Blood and ashes, Discord stared at the mirror, taken aback by the sudden and extreme violence. He shook his head, he was scrying the last moments of Immortals, violence was the number one cause of such a thing. If anything Celestia’s death had been the outlier, a Mantled does not die peacefully in their bed, not without something having gone horribly wrong.

Nonetheless, he had one alicorn left to scry, as much as he did not want to see the death of a friend, he had set his course and he would not turn back now. He needed to know everything the mirror would show him. “Mirror, show me the death of Princess Twilight Sparkle, Mantled Immortal and Alicorn of That Which Lies Between, the Endless Font of Power and Axle upon which the multitude Wheels of Time turn, Magic.”

The mirror once more faded to black, but this time the scene that the mirror showed him was intimately familiar, unmistakably the interior of the farmhouse at Sweet Apple Acres. Although undoubtedly showing some considerable age.

In the room were two mares, laying on a bed was an elderly earth pony, looking incredibly near death, the distinctive orange coat and three apple emblem left no doubt as to her identity.

Across the room, implacably stood an elder Queen Twilight – for Discord held no doubt that she was certainly a queen – who had grown well into her alicornhood, her stature more than a match for the late Celestia at her peak, her horn long and sharp enough to pierce the very heavens, her mane ethereal and flowing with eldritch power.

Yet she stood there watching her dying friend with an expression of casual indifference.

Applejack was speaking and though Discord couldn’t read one word in five, he could easily see the depth of hurt and betrayal in the mare’s eyes and the rage in her expression as she screamed at the alicorn.

And Twilight stood there, neither speaking nor emoting.

Suddenly the elderly mare’s expression changed. Gone was the anger, leaving only cold hatred, she spoke slowly – letting Discord read the words from her lips – ‘yah took mah son’.

For the first time since the scrying had started, Twilight moved, if only to speak, ‘I did what was necessary to secure the future of ponykind.’

Applejack apparently did not like that answer as she immediately started screaming, Discord once again unable to read but a couple words. None of them ones he would ever deign to speak in polite company, yet alone impolite company.

Twilight, showing that she wasn’t completely incapable of reaction, pinned her ears to her head, as she stood there taking the Earth Pony’s abuse.

Then suddenly, several minutes later – like a switch was flicked – the alicorn turned to leave with only a ‘Goodbye Applejack, it hurts me that you think of me like that.’

The alicorn left the room and the mirror’s scrying followed her into the hall, down the stairs and out the front door.

Outside the old farmhouse, there was no sign of the Apple Clan’s orchards, instead the farmhouse was surrounded by a suburb.

And a dreary suburb it was, both sides of the black paved street were filled with what looked like identical copies of the same small house – like they were built by deranged mirror pool clones – with the same hideous dirty white siding. The houses surrounded the old farmhouse oppressively, seemingly trying to crush it under their relentless conformity.

Even more concerning, despite it clearly being midday, the streets were deserted. Discord scanned the windows and saw a handful of ponies staring in fear at the alicorn.

Then the elder Twilight spread her wings and took off.

The alicorn ascended quickly, and Discord was given his first view of the future Ponyville from above.

And he did not like what he saw, but for a single landmark – Twilight’s hideous harmony crystal tree-castle thing – the town was completely unrecognizable.

The town was ten times the size and gone were the dirt roads and quaint quirky buildings, in their place were paved streets of identical houses and oppressive towering grey buildings. As so many times before, whimsey had been crushed under the tides of progress.

But the changes to Ponyville were not the most concerning development, not in the least.

The Everfree Forest was gone. Nothing remained. Discord was struck with incredible heartache, Everfree was – and will always be – his home, even without her ponies.

Nonetheless, the forest’s loss was expected. Celestia had told him – in great grief – of the Night of Tears, where the Lunatic Cults of Nightmare Moon razed the city of Everfree, leaving no survivors. That the Everfree had lasted a thousand years without her oathsworn scions was already a miracle. For he alone wasn’t enough – even as a Mantled – especially not when he had been sealed in stone and unable to renew his oaths for well over two thousand years.

But what was not expected, and even more tragic – albeit less personal – was the mountain directly to Ponyville’s north. The Pillar of Twilight – although it goes by ‘the Canterhorn’ now, apparently – upon which the ‘Royal City of Canterlot’ had been built.

But it was not Canterlot that Discord saw through the mirror, rather the entire city was missing.

Discord was not sure what to think as he stared at the ugly broken scar upon the mountain, the results of gravity reasserting its grasp upon the city that had denied it for so long.

Canterlot meant very little to him, and he was never one to be terribly heartbroken about the deaths of ponies didn’t know; he had been – indirectly – responsible for the deaths of many during his first Reign of Chaos.

Nonetheless, the loss of the nation’s capital had a degree of symbolic and narrative weight that was hard to overstate. Equestria could little more survive the loss of its capital than a pony could survive her heart being ripped out.

It was the Sundering of Solstice that marked the beginning of the Hundred Years War, a war that would bury the ancient tribal nations of the east under the ice and snow of the Windego’s eternal winter.

Similarly, his own inverting of the Great City of Equestria had brought her Republic to its knees.

And ... well ... the Razing of Everfree was the end of the Principality.

There was little chance for the Second Principality to prosper where it’s predecessors had fallen; even without knowing that he was watching Twilight Sparkle’s last moments, it was obvious that he was scrying into the last years of modern Equestria.

Then the future Twilight landed. The bustling square quickly emptied in a way that was incredibly familiar to the draconequus.

By the time the alicorn had folded her wings she was alone but for a single young pegasus colt, who had noticed neither the mare’s landing nor the flight of the other ponies.

Twilight approached the colt and said something.

The colt – who had been busy investigating something on the ground – turned towards the approaching queen and froze, his irises shrinking to pinpricks.

Twilight further approached the colt slowly with her head held low. It was clear that the alicorn was trying to avoid scaring the colt.

Not that it worked, the colt was shaking in terror.

Then, suddenly, there was an adult mare between the colt and the alicorn. The pegasus was clearly the dam of the colt, and she confronted the alicorn with a level of aggression that could only come from a mother defending her child.

Twilight took several steps back before turning away from the two ponies, her placid facade breaking for a tiny fraction of a second. What was revealed was a depth of maddened grief that gave Discord chills.

Twilight quickly cantered away, giving only a glance at the statue of a young pegasus filly before striding towards her castle.

Discord took a long look at the statue, it appeared to be made of petrilith – the unfortunately redundant term used for petrified flesh – but Discord couldn’t imagine what such a young filly could have done to deserve such a sentence. Especially with Equestria’s extreme focus on redemptive justice.

Twilight approached the front gate of her crystal tree castle monstrosity, she spared not a glance for the guards who pushed open its heavy doors and trotted into the castle.

The alicorn trotted on the familiar path to the throne room but as soon as she reached it she halted.

There was a pony sitting on the throne, her throne.

He was a stallion, although not a healthy example of one. His face was marred with a massive scar and more than half his grey coat was missing, his skin appeared to be three sizes too large on his emaciated frame; a telltale sign of dark magic abuse. His orange mane was short, mangy and matted. He smiled maliciously with crooked yellowed teeth. But the most shocking element of his appearance was the tattered remains of fragile butterfly-like wings, the wings of a flutterpony. In his hooves he twirled a jewelled sceptre, judging by how it matched her regalia it was likely Twilight’s.

Discord tilted his head, he was under the impression that the entire tribe was extinct, cursed forevermore to be something less than ponies. Discord shuddered, remembering when Celestia had shown him the Breezy migration.

The stallion’s smile widened to the point it looked painful and he began to speak ‘Queen Twilight Sparkle, it is wonderful to see you once again.’ the mirror made an unpleasant screech and its image was corrupted as the stallion spoke, yet his words were clear in a way that went beyond lipreading.

Discord winced, he was glad that he couldn’t actually hear the stallion, his spellsong had to be incredibly twisted to cause such a reaction.

‘Now, young Twilight, is it so bad to permit this old stallion a modicum of Whimsey? This world these days is so lacking in such things.’

Twilight approached with a degree of hostility.

The stallion set the sceptre down and dropped out of the throne, approaching the alicorn with an inconstant limping gait, ‘Oh, Twilight, things just didn’t work out for you, did they? Last of the alicorns, last of the Twilights, last of the Elements of Harmony ...’

Twilight recoiled.

‘... oh you didn’t know that one?’ The stallion laughed, ‘You didn’t even stay long enough to see dear Applejack’s last moments, what a good friend are you?’

Twilight replied, but Discord could not see her mouth.

‘Ha, but it matters not, friendship is but a lie. A deception to comfort the weak and hamstring the strong. There is only power, and the will to use it.’ The stallion smirks, ‘But I would be careful about collecting too many more Death Curses if I were you, they are not something to scoff at even if they originate from a worthless dirt pony.”

Twilight stalked forward aggressively.

‘Ah, that struck a nerve, didn’t it. Broke through your queenly facade.’ The stallion took a couple steps back, ‘You know, when I first figured out what dear Princess Celestia was doing to herself – what she forced you to do to yourself – I laughed for three weeks straight. It is not a sign of strength that you have to rely on such a thing.’

Twilight said something in retort.

The stallion laughed, ‘Always so quick to protect the late princess’s honour. Quite Loyal, but not quite Honest.’ He paused, ‘It is all her fault, every single disaster and crisis of your reign – through action or inaction, cowardice or ignorance – it all lies at the hooves of one foolish princess. I know it, and – for all your protests – you know it too.’

Twilight took a step forward, her wings spread in aggression.

‘Such fire for a mare who so mistreated you.’ he paused, ‘Oh, but the abuser so often ends up being loved by those she abuses.’

Twilight said something in retort.

‘No, Twilight, she didn’t love you, she couldn’t love you. You were but a tool for her, an exceptionally useful tool, but a tool nonetheless. Much like the Apple colt – indeed his entire generation – was a tool to you. And, may I say, you’re a lot rougher on your tools than dear Princess Celestia ever was.’

Twilight took a step back and said something.

‘It was necessary? Ha, what was it that you Twilights always liked to say? That ‘necessity is the refuge of cowards’? No, my dear, you simply did as you wished and nopony had the power to stop you.’ The stallion snorted, ‘It is the way of the world.’

There was a brief pause.

‘I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but I have come to miss your madhouse of a family. They might have been a complete pain in the flank, but at least they weren’t the soft snivelling cowards that Princess Celestia preferred for her citizenry.’ The stallion snorted, ‘It was such a shame what happened to them. They turned to you for guidance and leadership during their times of struggle and you turned your back on them. Then – abandoned by their favoured daughter – they died in a fascinating spiral of resentment and paranoia. Succession crises are always so very exciting; always so personal, so bitter.’ He paused, ‘But as they say, ‘que sera sera’. As your late student discovered, one does not simply unweave and reweave the past.’

Twilight twitched.

The stallion laughed, ‘Is that what you have been doing for the last couple decades, retreating from your duties to chase futile hopes of a better past? That must be why your ponies love you so much. Why, you should hear the kinds of things that are said about you when they don’t think anypony is listening. I’m partial to ‘idiot tyrant’ and ‘useless queen’.’

The stallion paused, ‘Are not mortals so ungrateful? Do they not remember all you’ve done for them? All the peoples you have destroyed to keep them safe? Gryphons, Caribou, Zebra, Kiirin, Umbrum, Windego, Changelings, Dragons, all of them burned under your judging gaze and unending arcane power. Such a shame that your lauded ‘Friendship Magic’ never worked out in the end.’

The stallion started trotting around the mare, “It was never to be, how could it? You, immortal, ageless, eternally young, watching as those around you aged and died in but a blink or the eye, how could you ever hold friendships with beings so short lived? How could you ever enter into a partnership of equals with individuals who have but a fraction of your knowledge, experience and power?’

Twilight turned to face the stallion and Discord saw her face for the first time since the verbal abuse had started. Her facade of calm was all but shattered, her beautiful face was marred with an ugly expression of barely contained grief, anger and hatred, tears were streaming freely, staining dark lines down her face. She said nothing as she stared at the flutterpony with malice.

‘I warned you not to be so quick to destroy your enemies, didn’t I? That without the threat of the monsters and bandits and invaders, the ungrateful common pony would be quick to turn on you. Viewing you as an unneeded relic of an age gone by. It happened in the past, you know, you should have heard the kinds of things said about poor Princess Luna back in the old Principality; Celestia too, but, even back then she wasn’t the kind to care much about things as insignificant as public opinion. So long as the parties, wine, salt and stallions kept flowing, the young mare was content.’ The stallion snorted, ‘Which, in retrospect, explains how disastrous the Nightmare Rebellion went for the Celestine Loyalists.’

‘Celestia won the Rebellion.’

‘Bah, Deus Ex Machina don’t count, and Celestia would never have been willing to sunder the Elements of Harmony to banish her dear sister if she had been winning. You should know by now how unreliable a historian Celestia actually was. How many ancient Evils, lost empires and dangerous artifacts have you encountered that were carefully erased from history over the last millennium? Nightmare Moon was mentioned in two books, Luna and the Elements of Harmony in one, the rest in none. All because dear Nanny Celestia didn’t want her pwecious liwtle ponies to be scawed. How many disasters of the last century could have been avoided if the knowledge of their existence hadn’t been taken to the grave by a selfish alicorn? How many more if said alicorn wasn’t such an immensely credulous fool? Plots and plans and conspiracies of treachery, firmly rooted in Equestria’s fertile soil, grown strong under a millennium of rule by the unseeing eyes of the Princess of the Sun.’

‘Celestia believed in ponies.’

‘Exactly, my young Twilight, she ‘believed in ponies’, there’s no better way to find yourself let down and betrayed than believing in ponies. For as much as ponies like to talk about Loyalty, a more duplicitous and treacherous kind I have never met. Even those too empty headed to have plots and schemes of their own are but one unverified rumour from turning their tail on those they claim to be loyal to. Only the combined weight of force and threat of violence dull a pony’s treachery. A lesson that Celestia unfortunately never learned and one that you learned too late.’

‘Too late?’

“Too late. You are the last remaining relic of another time, totally alone and rendered obsolete by your own actions. The sun and moon move without your input thanks to the Great Orrery built beneath the mountain, the ponies are largely self-governing with your near total retreat from the public, ponies are no longer slowly going extinct, everything that could ever possibly threaten the ponies has been dealt with. Well, everything – that is – but you. How long do you think you could live with the constant scorn of your subjects? Luna lasted but a hundred years before an alternate persona formed of her dissociated psyche and took the front, plunging Equestria into vicious civil war. Would Celestia’s patented special meditation help you hold out for longer? Or would it merely expedite the process? I know which one I would bet on.’ The stallion chuckled, ‘I’m certain you feel it, the malignant tumour deep in your psyche, formed of all the emotions and thoughts you refuse to recognize, constantly growing stronger in the shadow of your Super-Ego, despite all your attempts to destroy it. How many would survive the maddened rampage of ‘Darklight Sparkle’, after you spent the last century making certain that nothing remained that could possibly challenge you?’

Discord’s eyes widened as the stallion spoke, the purpose of the conversation finally laid bare.

Twilight stared at the stallion, her eyes betraying a degree of maddened grief that was terrifying. ‘You are wrong, there is one more threat that I have not yet destroyed.’

‘Me? Why, Twilight you flatter ...’ And suddenly the image on the mirror skipped and the stallion was gone.

‘B̴̧͔͚͈̹̳͚̽̾̅Ẹ̷̦̥̗̖̩̘͂ ̸̰̬̥̺̰̅̒̋Ù̷̢͉͓͍̣̥̈͆͌Ṉ̶̹̟͕̲͛̐̃͆͘ͅM̸̭̙̂̿̏̓̇̎A̶̦̮̺̜̗̅̿͐̍͂̅̈͝ͅD̵̛̖̦͖͚̬̰̍̋̃͘̚͝E̵͍̭͉̭̬̤̣̚’ Twilight spoke as she projected a beam of pure power, retroactively removing the stallion moments before he was struck.

The mare breathed heavily as she looked around the throne room, the throne and the far wall no longer existent. ‘My studies into the nature of time were not fruitless, parasite.’

Twilight trotted to the gaping hole in her castle, and stared at the line of pristine green grass cut through the city, hundreds of houses and other structures suddenly absent.

The confused expressions of the common ponies turned to horror and terror as they set their eyes on their queen.

Under the judging eyes of the horrified ponies, Twilight’s cracked facade of calm finally shattered, her star-strewn mane turned to black fire as her coat gradually darkened, ‘N-no, I refuse.”

Then the mirror flashed a bright magenta that blinded Discord.

When the draconequus’ vision returned, the mirror had once again turned the familiar black of an ended vision.

Discord was silent, whatever he had been expecting for Twilight’s end, that was not it. Never would he have imagined that it would be so dire, so depressing. And who was that malignant stallion?

‘Your free trial has now expired. Thank you for using the Mirror of Etaf™, we at the Artificer’s Guild wish that your scryed future was a pleasant one.’ Then the mirror returned to how he had found it, showing an empty reflection of the room.

Well, that’s that. Thought the draconequus as he picked himself off the floor and left the room aimlessly in a daze. The mirror would share no more of its portents of doom.

Twenty minutes later – mind in turmoil – the Draconequus found himself standing before a familiar damnable tree.

Why did it have to be a bucking tree? Would it have been so hard for Destiny to give me a sexy young draconequess for a counterpart? Hells, I would have even taken an alicorn. But, a tree?! How does a tree even acquire a mantle? Trees aren’t even sentient.

Discord shook his head, he had far, far, far better reasons to curse Destiny than the Mantled of Harmony.

The Tree of Harmony sparkled and made a jingling sound.

The draconequus harrowed his eyes and tilted his head, he had never quite managed to figure out whether such things were random or were they the Tree attempting to communicate. “We’re all going to die.”

The tree seemed to dim slightly.

“Well, perhaps not you, but both myself and all four princesses are dead within two centuries.”

The tree jingled softly.

“Why?”

The tree sparkled questioningly.

“Are we just toys to Destiny? To be discarded when it grows bored of us? When it tires of our story and desires to weave another?”

The tree glimmered condescendingly.

Discord snorted, “What more can I do? I tried to fight Destiny once before, and only became a tool for its end.” Discord sighed, he still remembered that fateful day; when the Grand Seer of Everfree prophesied that Everfree would become the next capital of her ancient enemy Equestria. It was that day that a young draconequus finally decided – after a lifetime of resistance – that he would take up the twin mantles of Chaos and Discord, taking the latter as his new name.

He had set out to destroy the Republic of Equestria, and over the next hundred years he did. Nothing was left of that damnable Republic.

Nothing, that is, but a pair of naive, idealistic young alicorns raised on tales of Equestrian glory, wielding a weapon that he had no defence against. The seer had never specified that it would be the Republic of Equestria of which Everfree would be the capital of.

Thus, turned to stone, he could do nothing but watch and listen as his beloved city was gradually transformed into a pale imitation of her old imperialistic enemy.

Discord was shook out of his reverie by the tree twinkling in scorn.

Suddenly, a very different memory came to the forefront of the draconequus’ mind. ‘As much as it pains me to say this, my Lord, your entire plan was flawed from its inception. Opposing Destiny – while far from impossible – can only be done with subtlety, not overwhelming force. The Wheel of Destiny is powerful – far more powerful than even a god like you – but lacks in agility. Nopony can overpower it, but even a foal – with the right knowledge – can outmanoeuvre it. A small, well placed change will always have a greater long-term effect on the Weave of Fate than a larger, less well placed act. And a push at the right point can outright shatter Fate.’

Discord shook his head and glared at the Tree, “Was that you?” How could the tree have possibly known of that conversation? Well, for a given definition of ‘conversation’, ‘lonely old stallion monologuing at a statue’ would be more accurate.

He honestly missed High Priest Changing Fate, the stallion was outspoken and critical in a way that was entirely uncharacteristic of a cultist. A refreshing change from the normal cultist who had a surfeit of zeal and a deficit of sense.

Of course, there was never indication that the elderly Discordian knew that his god was awake and cognizant in his statuary imprisonment. Honestly, it was entirely possible that the stallion had been unaware that he was actually talking to Discord himself and not merely a statue commissioned to commemorate his defeat. After all, what kind of idiot displays the petrified, but still living, body of her most dangerous enemy in the centre of the royal capital?

Discord was once more brought out of his reminiscence by the Tree, scintillating smugly.

Discord stared dubiously at the Tree, “Just because such a thing is possible in theory, that does not mean it is actually possible. Knowing that Shatterpoints might exist does not help if I can’t even identify one.” And nothing but a Shatterpoint would be enough, this was not the kind of future that Destiny could be softly nudged away from. “I refuse to be the subject of another self-fulfilling prophecy.”

The tree was silent.

Discord sighed, realizing the corner he had talked himself into, “Which is exactly what I would be if I were to let the prophecy come true through inaction.”

The tree radiated a palatable aura of smugness.

“I hate you.”

The tree’s smugness only grew.

“Okay, fine ...” Discord whined, “... what’s your plan then?”

The tree shimmered and made a chiming sound as a glowing silhouette of an eagle’s talon appeared on its trunk.

As Discord was reaching out with his paw, he hesitated. While there was no example of any creature mantling either Destiny or Fate, most theologians strongly associated both with Harmony. Discord’s mind was briefly filled with images of his broken body fertilizing the roots of the Tree.

The Draconequus shook his head, it was a tree, and it was powered by Virtue Magic. Even though its Elements had defeated him twice before, it could not do what he feared. Magic – quite simply – could not be turned against its nature.

Discord resolutely placed his paw on the Tree’s trunk ...

... and suddenly Discord’s inner eye was opened wide with visions of a great tapestry of possibility, weaved from the very worldlines of the world’s peoples.

Discord staggered back and stared wide eyed at the Tree, “That’s how you see the world?!”

The Tree twinkled sadly in affirmation.

Discord shook his head, what would it be like to have such knowledge but a near complete lack of any form of agency. In many ways it was the complete inverse of his problem.

Suddenly he understood the tree’s plan, “So, you are the eye and I the hammer.” And so the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony once again placed his paw upon the Tree of Harmony and plunged into the Weave of Fate, working together – for the first time in history – to shatter fate.

Princess Twilight Sparkle galloped through the halls of the Canterlot Archives, nearly a tonne – 978 kilograms precisely – of books levitated in her magenta magic. This was the first time the newly ascended alicorn had managed to make time on her extremely busy schedule to visit the semi-secret library since Princess Celestia had given her access.

And she was going to make the most of what little time she did have.

Hence the galloping ...

... and the levitating of enough books to crush a mortal pony to death.

The young mare had been told many times during her adolescence to not gallop in the library. Unfortunately, the filly had never really taken such warnings to heart; perhaps because they had never originated from Princess Celestia.

And her ascension to alicornhood had not convinced her to reconsider that habit. In fact, with the inertial modulation of a pegasus and the preternatural grip of an Earth Pony she was more secure in her agility than she had ever been as a unicorn.

In a different timeline, Twilight’s surety would not be misplaced and, indeed, her entire visit to the archives would be forgotten as inconsequential.

As it was, said recklessness was her undoing as her right forehoof came down upon something that was most certainly not the smooth stone floor of the archives.

The young alicorn’s hoof – insulated from the rooting power of the earth – slipped out from under her, sending Twilight careening to the left and into a tall, sturdy bookshelf with an immense crash.

There was a second crash as a tonne – nearly – of books slammed into the mare from behind.

A mere mortal pony would likely have been severely injured – if not killed – but alicorns were significantly more robust than that. As such, the young princess suffered only the most superficial of injuries.

Twilight groaned and shifted, causing a cascade of books to fall. The alicorn managed to get a single hoof flat onto the ground, drawing enough strength from the earth to free her from her literary tomb. Yet the mare still could not see.

She reached her forehooves up and removed the offending book from her horn, observing the ragged hole torn right though the poor thing’s spine, and sighed, there existed no bookward that could resist the gore of an alicorn.

Twilight gasped in horror as she surveyed the damage around her; apparently the bookwards used by the Canterlot Archives were vastly inferior to her own, if they didn’t even protect against high velocity collision. The scene around her was a massacre, dust covers strewn everywhere, spines broken, boards bent or missing entirely and countless pages torn.

Perhaps her data was biased from two years as a librarian in the town where Rainbow Dash lived, but collision was responsible for approximately 63.7% of potential book-harm events. Any bookward that failed to protect from such a thing was clearly inadequate.

It’s not like she even hit them that hard, Rainbow’s average speed of collision was between four and five times greater than the speed she had been moving with, to say nothing of the outlier data points stemming from the pegasus' practising of her Sonic Rainboom. And if her books could survive a collision from a barely subsonic Rainbow, then the Royal Archivists were clearly slacking.

Twilight shook her head, that was all immaterial. She had damaged quite a few books and there was no point in worrying about what could have been done to protect them.

The mare surveyed the damage and was thankful once again for having learned as many book-specific mending spells as she had. Magic was just so useful; nopony needed to know this crash had even happened, and all she lost was a couple hours of time and less mana than she would recover in that period.

As the mare categorized the books by damage, she took a look at the bookshelf she had hit. It was empty but for a single book, an unassuming thin brown book wedged into the corner of a shelf; where it would be hidden had the bookshelf not been empty.

Twilight levitated the book and opened it.

The book was not – as its location would imply – about pottery.

In fact, it was a spellbook. Moreover, Twilight recognized the hornwriting; this was a Starswirl the Bearded spellbook.

Thus the alicorn was distracted from the task at hoof and skimmed the book as its brethren lay broken around her.

Two things quickly became clear: the first was that she had never seen any of these seven spells before. Considering that the alicorn had already read every single thing she could get her hooves on about her foalhood hero, that was a big deal.

The second was perhaps even more significant; this spellbook was from very early in the stallion's life. From before he was famous and felt the need to deliberately add unnecessary complexity to his spells. While not simple – no Starswirl spell could ever be accused of being simple – they were far more manageable than some of his later spells.

So manageable that the young alicorn felt that she could cast one of them – the third – with only a fortnight of preparation.

Twilight felt herself being overcome with a manic glee, how often did a mage have the opportunity to cast a Starswirl the Bearded spell that may have never been cast before? She would begin the preparations immediately.

The mare looked around and blushed; well, maybe not immediately.

In her distraction the alicorn missed the disappearance of a single peel of a banana.

Author's Note

Well here is the prologue of the v3 of The Twilight Prince. I am feeling much happier with the quality and consistency of this new version. And a prologue gives me the opportunity to introduce important concepts early (instead of like chapter 20 or something).

Chapter 4: Revelations

Rainbow Dash sat quietly in the cloudatorium as she watched the mare prattle on about ocean currents.

In truth, were it a better time, Rainbow would actually have found the lecture reasonably interesting.

But this wasn't a better time, because – for some reason – somepony had decided to host the weatherworkers' summit at the last possible moment. Rainbow hadn't even known it was legal to hold mandatory meetings this close to Heat Season.

The Spring Holiday was the time when most mares went into heat. But most did not mean all. Some mares went into season early, and others late. Unfortunately, Rainbow had always tended towards the former.

As such, she had gone into heat yesterday.

Thus it was a very horny, frustrated, itchy and irritable Rainbow Dash attempting to pay attention to a lecture she'd rather not be here for.

Stay Cool Rainbow, it's just one more day. Then you can go home and have Twilight cast her magic on you.

And so, Rainbow Dash set in to wait out the remaining uncomfortable hours.

“Achem.”

Rainbow's left ear flicked towards the sound, but she otherwise continued to focus on the speaker. Well she continued to attempt to, whether she was actually succeeding at that was highly debatable.

“ACH-HEM.”

Rainbow turned her head towards the rude mare, “Yes?” she asked, unable to keep her irritation out of her voice.

Sitting behind and to the left of the chromatic mare was a haughty pegasus dressed in the most unbearably pink outfit that Rainbow had ever seen. The mare spoke in a shrill, unpleasant voice, “Can't you tell that you're disturbing ponies.” the mare's muzzle scrunched up as if she was smelling a particularly unpleasant odour.

Which, to be honest, was certainly the case; from what Rainbow understood, her heat musk was particularly pungent.

Nonetheless it was considered extremely vulgar to comment on another pony's scent, especially the scent of a mare in heat.

Rainbow stared at the pegasus for a second, “Mare, are you for real? I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be. If you want to complain, go complain to whichever pony scheduled this summit.”

Rainbow inhaled softly through her nostrils, secretly scenting the mare. As old 'Uncle' Ironsides had always emphasized, ponies had the strongest sense of smell of any of the world's many races, and, while most ponies did their best to pretend that wasn't the case, those unfortunate to grow up in Cloudsdale's Undertown did not have that luxury. There was an astonishing amount of things that one could learn about a pony from her scent, and that fact had saved Rainbow's life more than a couple times.

The first thing that made itself evident was that the mare wore way too much perfume; enough that it was offensive to the nose. Even more unpleasant, it was neither the exotic imported perfumes favoured by the unicorn nobility nor the soft flower scents preferred by less wealthy ground ponies; it was one of the harsh synthetic scents Skyborne pegasi were infamous for. The mare was outright bathed in theperfume marketed as 'Sunshine Storm'; a name that had absolutely no correspondence to its scent. All in all, it was utter nose-sore, and was fairly strong evidence that she was attempting to hide something; this mare was far too old to think it smelled good.

“'Mare'?” Sneered the mare, “I'll have you know I'm a Lady, peasant.”

“Cool,” Rainbow said dismissively, “so am I.”

“Of what house.” demanded the mare.

Rainbow rolled her eyes, this 'Lady' hadn't even introduced herself yet she demanded so much; Rainbow was far from an expert in noble manners, even she knew that talking down to another noblemare like this – even a low ranking noble – was widely considered unacceptable. “House Loyalty.” Rainbow replied honestly, it might be a house with one member and no lands, but it was still a house, with all the rights and entitlements that came with that.

Rainbow inhaled; the thing about ponies who try to ignore their own sense of smell, is that they often underestimate just how good a pony's nose is at ignoring scents. They think that with enough perfume nopony will be able to smell their shame.

It did not work like that; it was incredibly difficult to completely overwhelm a pony's nose. At least without chemicals unpleasant enough that their use counts as assault.

As such Rainbow managed to ignore the perfume and scent the mare's scent queues, 'pheromones' if you were an eggheaded bookpony like Twilight. From them Rainbow could tell that this was an irritated, disgusted and angry pegasus mare in her mid to late thirties, overweight, under-exercised, no major health conditions and a few weeks out from going into heat.

Admittedly, most of that could be determined just by looking at the mare, but, well, there were many situations where one would smell a pony before seeing her. A packed cloudatorium just wasn't one of them.

The mare scowled and made a dismissive huff, “Well, I've never heard of any 'House Loyalty'.”

The next scent Rainbow picked up from the mare was sex musk, an infamously difficult scent to remove. A fact that made most skyborne mares' tendency towards promiscuity all the more baffling for the polychromatic mare. And this mare was no exception to that stereotype, as – despite the mare's obvious attempts to cleanse herself from the scent – Rainbow could smell at least three different stallions on her. At least she doesn't smell like a bucking Undertown brothel like a certain heiress to House Hurricane.

And then there were the weaker scents: ozone, rainbow, assorted foods, smog and raw sewage. Everything expected of a Cloudsdale pegasus who had never even touched earth. “That's strange, Lady who still hasn't introduced herself, considering I was the one to return your magic after that entire 'Tirek' episode a few months back.” In truth, Rainbow didn't recognize the mare in the slightest, but she had been the one to return magic to the ponies of Cloudsdale.

The mare flinched, that entire incident had been particularly difficult for skyborne pegasi. Thankfully, the centaur had not stolen their cloudwalking abilities; if he had, there would have been very few survivors. However, a cloudcity became significantly less friendly for a pony who could neither fly nor cloudshape, and that was before considering the question of food. The cloudcity was rather dependent on imports to feed her ponies; imports that were shipped in by air-freighters, large airships that required magic to run.

If Rainbow were in a more rational mood she'd stop right there, but heat-struck mares were not well known for being rational, “So, does your husband know about the other stallions? Poor bastard, to be stuck with such an unfaithful wife.” she asked in a conversational tone. In truth, Rainbow wasn't certain that this mare even was married, but between age, apparent wealth and noble status it seemed better than even odds. Also, single mares were a lot less likely to go out of their way to hide their indiscretions, Celestia knows that Aura Hurricane certainly didn't.

Of course, part of that might just be House Hurricane. The Founding Pegasus House had always given Rainbow the creeps; there was something deeply wrong with them in a way that she could never put to words. Something more than just having a turbo-slut psychopath as their heiress.

Then again, Mother had never been terribly concerned about hiding her sluttery either, and she was married.

The mare looked at Rainbow in shocked confusion that morphed into rage as she realized what had been said, “How dare you, you repugnant little commoner,” she reared back her right forehoof in most telegraphed punch Rainbow had ever seen, “I'll put you in your place.”

A crotch shot, really mare? Rainbow shifted slightly, raised her left wing in defence and stopped the other mare's hoof dead.

The pink-clad – supposedly noble – mare's eyes widened in shock, blocking a hoofstrike with a wing was one of those things that was all-but guaranteed to put a pegasus in the hospital.

Rainbow Dash smirked, but she was Rainbow Bucking Dash, she was just built different. A flick of her wing sent the other mare's hoof to the right.

The unnamed assailant, on three hooves and very overextended, toppled over under the cerulean mare's push.

Rainbow got to her hooves and lazily turned to face the mare, spreading her wings wide in aggression, their length crackling with red lightning as very clouds beneath her hooves turned black and rumbled with thunder; the short-term-construction-grade cumulus had been partially altered into cumulonimbus, “You want to go, bitch?”

The other mare stumbled to her hooves and huffed, poorly hiding her fear, “Well, I didn't care about this lecture, anyways.” she sneered before turning tail and leaving the cloudatorium at a rushed canter, ignoring the snickers of more than a few mares.

Once the mare had left, Rainbow looked around, finding that everypony in the cloudatorium was staring at her; she blushed incandescently in embarrassment.

The speaker cleared her throat, and stared piercingly at the irritated mare.

Rainbow blushed harder and waved a wing, “Yeah, yeah, I'm done. Continue.” she stated before settling back into position.

The speaker continued her lecture.

Rainbow returned to attempting to pay attention. Coolest mare in Ponyville are you Dash? Took the provocations of one slightly aggravating mare to make you lose that Cool.

Prince Twilight Sparkle lingered in the antechamber of the Castle of Friendship, a single hoof resting on the large golden door.

“Uh, Sparkle, if you're having second thoughts, you can just ...” Umbra paused, “... not. Put it off for a day or two.”

Twilight shook his head, “No, I have to. Delaying for a day becomes delaying for a week which becomes delaying for a month which becomes delaying forever.”

“Sparkle, I've known since you were very small, you were never one to procrastinate. Quite the opposite, in fact, you had a tendency to rush into things.”

“And you think I'm rushing this?”

“Uh, yeah, basically.”

Twilight shook his head, “Maybe, but I can't delay. It feels like there's a Sword of Damocles hanging over my head, I need to get this over with.” he sighed and placed his forehead on the door, “It's just ... going out there,” he gestured towards the door with a wing, “makes this,” he gestured towards himself with the same wing, “feel more real. You understand?”

Umbra paused and looked at the stallion in confusion, “I'm sorry, but I really don't.”

Twilight sighed again, “To the ponies out there, I'm still Princess Twilight. If I go out there, it's like what's left of her ceases to be.”

“Sparkle,” Umbra spoke slowly, “in my experience, the opinions of the common Equestrian have very little correspondence to what's real, for better or worse. And well ...” the mare approached the stallion and placed a hoof on his shoulder, “You are her, at least in every way that matters. If your friends don't recognize that, then they're not very good friends. And, well, who the buck cares what some random Equestrian civilian thinks.” Umbra paused, briefly nuzzling into the stallion's neck, “Come on Sparkle, let's go back upstairs where you can mourn your lost marehood in safety, and then tomorrow – if you're feeling better – you can introduce yourself to the world.”

Twilight lifted his head off the door and stared at the mare, “You really think this is a bad idea, don't you?”

“I do,” Umbra nodded, “Don't take this the wrong way, but you're really ... unstable. Understandably so, considering how ... destabilizing this entire change has to be for you. You need time to centre yourself before making such a big leap.”

Twilight sighed, “Shadow, you've been uncharacteristically quiet in this exchange, what do you think?”

“Well, I ain't much good at that philosophy bullshit, but I never had much use for 'would have's', 'could have's' or 'should have's'. I find that dwelling on such things just distracts from what's important, ya know? It's so much better to roll with the punches and make the best of what is and not worry about what isn't.”

“'I am not very good' Shadow, 'I am not very good'.” The alicorn idly corrected, before turning back to Umbra, “I'm sorry Umbra, but I can't, I have to do this.” he stated before pushing the heavy gold door open with a hoof.

Sunlight poured into the antechamber.

Twilight shivered slightly – the embrace of Celestia's Sun held little of the comfort it once had – and trotted awkwardly into warm mid-spring air.

Both twins followed the stallion, Umbra muttering about 'damned stubborn stallions'.

In a bright magenta flash Eta Team was suddenly in a large, busy room carved from stone; nearly a thousand kilometres from the forest in which they had spent their last few weeks.

Captain Twilight Aura looked around the room; recognizing Arrival Bay B almost instantly.

Aura smirked in pride; as the captain of a specialist team she rarely had cause to use any of the larger teleportation terminals in the Twilight Manor, but the spoils from Eta Team's latest adventure certainly warranted it.

She glanced around, seeing many ponies working busily around the room; the vast majority were unicorns – of which about half had the obvious features of a Twilight – but Aura spotted a couple thestrals and a single earth pony.

The largest contingent of them were wearing the insignia of House Twilight's Logistics Department, swiftly loading Eta Team's various material acquisitions onto their hover-sleighs, which were then taken to be processed elsewhere.

As was standard practice, Eta Team had packed up every single thing from the smuggler's caravan, regardless of value. The only things left were a scattered fire pit, a buried latrine and a thin layer of fine ash from the self-destruction of a disposable long-range teleportation circle.

A couple weeks and not a sign of today's events would remain.

However, not all the ponies in the room were from Logistics, there was about half a dozen from the Equine Resources Department fussing over a hooffull of prisoners. Somewhat odd considering that the prisoners had been first into the teleportation circle.

Aura looked closer and found that a number of their captures were still trapped in a hard amber coloured substance.

Ah, that made sense, while Aura had had the foresight to have a number of bottles filled with changeling saliva – the solvent that dissolved their resin – she had significantly underestimated the bug-ponies' production of resin. She should have figured that a species that consumed something as immaterial as Love would bite their collective hooves at something as base as the conservation of mass.

Finally the unicorn turned her Team.

Crack Shot had already disappeared to go and do ... something. Honestly, Aura had no idea what the surly stallion even did during his free time. And – as curious as she was – it really wasn't her place to pry. If Enforcement came to her with suspicions of misbehaviour that would change, but until then, the stallion had been with Eta Team even longer than Aura had, and that deserved a level of trust.

Flare was standing with that aloof, almost bored, expression she typically defaulted to, but Aura could tell that her little sister was feeling rather pleased with herself. Understandably so, they had managed a significant blow against the filthy pony-eating rebel scum.

The three pony trainees were looking sick from the teleportation; long-range teleportation was somewhat of an acquired taste. Sanguine clearly had the worst of it and looked very close to vomiting, hardly surprising considering that this was only her third trip. Midnight was doing her best to look unbothered, but Aura could definitely spot a distinctive green tinge to the mare's cheeks. Even Twilight Swordcant looked rather ill, which was ... odd.

Aura wondered how many times the mare had even travelled by long-range teleportation, as – judging by her nausea – it couldn't be more than a dozen times, and likely far less than that. As a Twilight – even a branch Twilight – she should have had almost free range of House Twilight's teleportation network, it should have been trivial for the mare to get enough experience with the method of travel to get over the nausea. That she hadn't ... well that indicated politics; Aura hated politics.

And Lepidoptera? Well, the changeling princess appeared completely unbothered by the teleportation and was currently burying a couple logistics ponies in an endless barrage of questions. In retrospect, it kind of made sense that a species that lacked anything even resembling a digestive system would be immune to nausea.

Standing still several body lengths away from the princess and gazing impassively at the logistics ponies surrounding their charge, were the imposing figures of the two praetorian caste changelings – far closer to plus-sized earth mares in build than to either the willowy princess or the marelet low caste favoured by Chrysalis – that had come to Twilight Manor with Dora.

In all honesty, Aura found the changeling's version of royal guards to be rather unsettling. While they were clearly intelligent and capable of following complex orders, whatever was responsible for deciding the traits of the various changeling castes had decided that they didn't need anything that even resembled a personality. It was just cool emptiness all the way down.

They kind of reminded Aura of her father. And that was never a good feeling.

Aura lit her horn, reached a thin thread of magic out to the princess and brushed against her carapace.

Dora stopped asking her questions and turned towards Aura in askance.

Aura made a gesture with her head at the increasingly frustrated ER ponies now casting a wide range of spells at the encased prisoners to ... mixed ... results.

Dora looked confused for a moment before recognizing what her captain wanted of her. The young ling and her guards buzzed over to the ER ponies and started spitting on and licking the prisoners to free them from their encasement.

If Aura didn't find it so fascinating, she would probably find it somewhat disgusting.

The prisoners, of course, did not find the sudden appearance of three of Equestria's 'enemies' to be a very heartening experience. Aura let out a small laugh as several of the smugglers whinnied in terror; even the grumpy ER ponies couldn't help but find this development amusing.

It was honestly a shame that none of the smugglers would remember this experience once ER was done with them, but, well, Opsec trumps schadenfreude.

Aura watched as the ER ponies, now with changeling assistance, efficiently freed the prisoners and got them wrapped in chains and – when necessary – nullifier horn rings or wing locks before marching them off to the holding cells.

It was extremely amusing to watch the last mare – an earth pony – of the lot's expression turn from smug superiority to confusion, horror and pain as soon as she managed to get her hooves on the stone floor. Clearly the mare had thought that House Twilight had underestimated her earth pony magic, but, in fact, it was her who had underestimated House Twilight.

After all, it was rather difficult to draw strength from the earth when in the Domain of a hostile Genius Loci.

Of course, the mare's mistake was totally understandable; House Twilight was the only known inhabited geomantic manse in Equestria. And with geomancy having gone extinct with the vanishing of the Stalwart of Broken Stone, it was completely unknown to the common Equestrian.

Unfortunately, none of House Twilight's many attempts to resurrect the art had borne any fruit. Hay, they had barely been able to get any earth ponies to even attempt it.

The earth tribe's bias against magic had long been a point of frustration among unicorns. House Twilight did their best to not let that taint their opinion of the tribe, but, well, that was hard, having seen so many angry mobs hunting innocent unicorns with deranged accusations of 'witchcraft'. An infuriatingly common sight on the fringes of Equestria, where House Twilight typically operated.

How exactly an entire tribe of ponies – one of the most innately magical races in existence – could somehow convince themselves that magic was 'unnatural' had long boggled the minds of House Twilight's best sociologists.

Not for the first time Aura wished she could get her hooves on whoever had started the outrageous tribalist superstition that unicorns burned their souls to power their magic; to return even a small portion of the pain that her Lies had visited on innocent unicorns, mares who were only trying to pay Celestia's extortionate tuition. But, alas, the unknown mare was doubtless many centuries dead.

“So what's first on the list for today, Spike?”

A couple moments passed without a response.

“Spike?”

A cough came from the left, “Uh, Sparkle ...”

“Yes Umbra?”

“... maybe look behind you.”

Twilight stopped and did as his guard suggested, finding no Spike ...

... wait, no; that was Spike in the distance, panting as he waddled as fast as he could, the scroll containing today's list held in one claw.

“What? Why is Spike so slow today? I'm not trotting any faster than usual.”

“Are you?” Umbra asked with a raised eyebrow.

Twilight looked at Umbra in askance, “... yes.”

“Because, while your cadence might be the same, your stride is just a tiny bit longer than it once was.”

A couple moments passed before Twilight blushed in embarrassment, looking down at his now much longer legs. The term 'foal chasing legs' came to mind, something Applejack had not shut up about reference stallions, but so did 'prey chasing legs', a term – albeit less sex specific – that the Twilights used instead. The dissonance between those two terms was honestly pretty funny.

A couple moments passed.

“Wait up ... Twilight ... don't ... leave me ... behind.” Spike spoke between huffs.

Twilight shook his head and lit his horn, casually penetrating the wyrmlings surprisingly strong magic resistance, enforcing his magic on Spike's Domain and levitating Spike to place him on his own withers. “You okay?”

“I'm ... fine. Just ... need ... to catch ... my breath.”

Twilight resumed trotting, looking around the rolling green hills just outside of Ponyville. Twilight was glad that the castle was outside the town proper; fresh air and a brisk trot was exactly what his nerves needed right now.

The four trotted in silence for several minutes.

“Where to first, Spike?”

“Uh ...” Spike said, unrolling the scroll, “... looks like Applejack is maring the stall in the market today.”

Twilight nodded, he had already known that – it had been barely 20 minutes since he had written the list – but Twilight had always found routine comforting, and if there was ever a time he needed comfort, it was now.

“Great, the market,” Umbra grumbled, “no doubt filled to the brim with crowds of near-heated mares of questionable moral character, joy.”

Twilight sighed and shook his head, “Calm down Umbra, it won't be like that.”

“Aura, Flare, you're back!” Shouted a familiar voice followed by a loud kraak-oom and a bright burst of blue.

Suddenly there was a mare nuzzling into Aura's neck, her fur tingling with soft static shocks.

Aura lifted her forehooves off the ground and wrapped around the interloper before rearing back, lifting the smaller mare clear off the ground, “Spark, how's my baby sister today.”

Spark squirmed in Aura's grasp, “I'm not a baby, I'm a perfectly adult mare.” she whined.

“Then why are you so small?” Aura replied with a smirk as she nuzzled into her electrified fluffball of a sister.

“I'm not small, I'm perfectly average.” Spark replied in outrage.

“Maybe for an Equestrian unicorn, but we Twilight's have to hold ourselves to a higher stature.” Twilights were quite a bit taller than the national average for unicorns; hay, they even had a couple centimetres on the median earth pony.

“Ha ha ha, funny, now put me down, Aura.”

“Okay ...”

“Now, Aura.”

“Fine.” Aura dropped her sister, before falling to all fours.

Spark managed to make an awkward landing before turning to the three pony recruits, “Now, big sister, why don't you introduce me to your fresh meat?” the mare gave a predatory smile.

Aura sighed, “Eta Team, this is my littlest sister, Twilight Spark, she's technically with Research and Development, but she often acts as support staff for Eta Team and even occasionally goes on missions with us.”

Sanguine stared at Spark in confusion, “Wait, we go on missions with a civie?”

Aura chuckled, Equestrian military and their hangups. Although, considering the temperament of the average Equestrian, Aura could hardly blame them. “I don't think any Twilight could be described as anything even approaching a 'civilian'. We have a couple individuals who are considered 'non-combatants', but that's not really the same thing.”

Spark stared at the small blue unicorn in fascination.

Sanguine tilted her head at Aura, “How do you mean?”

“Do you remember how we rescued you?”

“I don't think I could ever forget.” Sanguine shuddered slightly, “It was incredibly metal, more than a little bit terrifying and ... strangely arousing,” she paused, “I'm still not sure what to think about that.”

Aura couldn't help but snicker.

Spark stalked around behind Sanguine, her tail wagging softly in anticipation.

“What kind of gnarly mind magic were you on that you ran down gryphs like they were the prey species? Or was it drugs? I have heard some nasty stories about roids, but I'm like 90% sure that 'mad enough to rip a pony's throat out with her teeth' was hyperbole.” she paused, “Probably.”

Aura hummed in amusement, “No, not drugs, your first guess was closest, except the spell in question was cast over a thousand years ago, is permanent, breeds true and doesn't have an off switch.

Sanguine paused, and stared, “Wait, do you mean ...” she trailed off.

“What you saw in the rebel camp was an honest expression of our nature. We might look like ponies, but ...” she tapped her head with a hoof, “... in here, we're mostly wolf.” Aura smiled a sharp, toothy smile, “We Twilights put a lot of effort into passing as normal ponies; sometimes we can almost manage it.” Aura paused, “And then there's a wide range of other changes to our psychology and physiology. Suffice it to say, we're born for conflict in a way entirely unlike any other race or tribe or kind.” Aura gave a glance at Midnight, “Thestrals included.” and that's saying something, as the nocturnal tribe was the descendants of Nightmare Moon's magically enhanced supersoldiers.

If anything, Aura was underselling the Twilights' martial tendencies. A Twilight actually had a psychological need for conflict, for violence. Without it, her mind would ... deteriorate.

Thankfully, hunts, duels and war games went a long way towards staving off the worst of the symptoms, but House Twilight did its best to keep her ponies up to date on their prescription of recreational combat ops. If not for Eta Team's recent recruits, the smuggler caravan would have likely been descended upon by several dozen pent up wolf-ponies.

Some of the smugglers might have died, but that was a risk House Twilight was willing to take.

Not like they deserved better, any mare who took the blood-soaked gold of literal pony-eaters was a Traitor to ponykind and deserved only death.

Hay, the only reason Eta Team had taken them prisoner was because they were more valuable alive than dead. A number of the mares in the caravan had significant bounties from either the Equestrian Crown or some noble house; and the Gryphonstone Crown had a standing bounty of ten Gryphmarks for any individual providing material aid to the rebels.

“Suffice it to say, House Twilight has never had a problem with rats.” Aura smirked, “If anything we occasionally release some rodents into the manor to give our foals something to entertain themselves with.” Aura smiled softly, reminiscing, fondly remembering the rat hunts she partook in with the other foals; it was always a heady feeling to become one with the pack and hunt.

Sanguine looked deeply uncomfortable, remaining silent for a moment before speaking, “What could possibly cause ponies to do such a thing to themselves?”

Aura looked at Sanguine in mild confusion before sighing, “Caribou.”

Flare made a small nod, “Caribou.”

Swordcant scowled, but didn't disagree.

Spark settled into Sanguine's blindspot, readying to pounce.

Sanguine tilted her head, “Caribou?”

“When the descendants of the survivors of the Razing of Everfree came out of their exile in the Everfree Forest, they found that the Ponylands had been conquered by the caribou clans. The native ponies had been put into bondage and were being horribly abused; slavery, rape, torture, murder. The survivors – naturally – were outraged and attempted to fight off the Caribou, to free their pony kin ...”

Aura sighed, “... it did not go very well; the caribou had had several generations to entrench themselves, were far more warlike and had a seemingly endless number of slaves to be used as sacrificial fodder for their fell magic. Even worse, the ponies had been so beaten down that it was like they wanted to be oppressed.”

Sanguine looked confused, “I think I need more context, when are you talking about?”

Aura blushed slightly, “Ah, yes, sorry. So I assume you're familiar with the Nightmare Rebellion, when Nightmare Moon attempted to overthrow Celestia?”

“Of course.”

“Well, it didn't go nearly as well for the Celestines as your history class told you. Nightmare Moon had conquered nearly all of Equestria and marched upon the City of Everfree – Equestria's capital – with her forces. Celestia was able to banish the Nightmare with the Elements of Harmony, but that did nothing about the hundreds of thousands of Lunatic Cultists that had marched into the city with her.” Aura paused, “Let's just say that they were less than happy about their goddess's banishment, and took their rage out on the city and her populace. Hence, the 'Razing of Everfree'.”

“I know about that. CSGU teaches about the Razing, but ...”

“They told you that there were no survivors? That a city with nearly a hundred thousand inhabitants was slaughtered to the last pony?”

“Well ... yeah.”

“Well, that didn't happen. In fact, House Clover had first prophesied about the Razing and started planning an evacuation before the rebellion had even begun. By the time that the Nightmare's forces had reached Everfree, much of the civilian population had already been evacuating, and by Princess Celestia's final confrontation with the Nightmare, most of them had escaped. Of course, not everypony managed to escape, tens of thousands were still murdered, but that was far less than the entire population of the city.”

“Okay, ponies escaped the Razing of Everfree, but where do the caribou fit into this?”

“I assume that you were taught that after banishing the Nightmare, Celestia immediately reestablished Equestria.”

“... Yes.” Sanguine replied slowly.

“Then – as much as I hate to say this – you have been lied to. The previous falsehoods could have been a result of assumptions and misunderstandings, but the attempt to erase an entire era of history couldn't be anything but deceit. Celestia did not immediately reestablish Equestria, Celestia disappeared for hundreds of years to go do ... something; we have theories about what she was doing, but they aren't relevant to this conversation. The fact of the matter is that for at least three hundred years – likely much longer – ponies were left with neither any alicorns nor a nation to call their own. This period, starting with the banishment of the Nightmare and ending with Princess Celestia's 'Third Founding' of the 'Second Principality of Equestria', is known only as the Dark Age.”

“That sounds ominous.”

Aura chuckled, “That it does.”

“So, you 'Twilights' were among these survivors?”

“In a way; the survivors split into four groups. The pegasi, led by the weatherworkers' and the sky-architects' guilds, along with the Everfree Pegasus Clans and the minor pegasus houses who had avoided the civil war, formed one group. The earth ponies, under the guidance of the geomancers', masons' and delvers' guilds as well as the Everfree Earth Clans formed the second. The unicorns however were split; the magesmiths', artificers', alchemists' and what remained of the elementalists' guilds were offended at being left out of House Clover's evacuation plans and formed their own group with the remaining Solar and Lunar Houses and most of the city unicorns. Meanwhile, House Clover took the mages' and archivists' guild, the hedge-mages' society, the Everfree Unicorn Clans, the Arcane Houses and a number of Crown Departments charged with matters arcane or esoteric.”

“And you Twilights are descended from the third?” Sanguine said, glancing at Flare.

“I mean, technically yes, but not in the way you mean, my dear sister is a bit of a red herring; elemental alignment is a very recent thing in House Twilight.”

Flare chuffed in amusement.

“The four groups of survivors would eventually become the first Orders Stalwart, a series of chivalric orders established to protect the common pony from the many threats of the Dark Age. They became the Orders Stalwart of Skyhaven, Broken Stone, Starfall and the Pillar of Twilight, respectively. The 'Pillar of Twilight' being the proper name for the lonely mountain upon which both the Twilight Manor and Canterlot are built.” Aura scowled, “I have no idea where the name 'Canterhorn' came from, but it is fantastically wrong. It has been the 'Pillar of Twilight' since before the Founders staked the City of Equestria.” she growled out. “We Twilights do not look kindly upon attempts to rename the mountain from which we take our own name.”

There was a brief pause.

“Of the four groups of survivors, it was the group who would eventually become the Twilights that had the hardest time. We were the descendants of librarians, researchers and mages, of Arcane Houses and the few Everfree Unicorn Clans. We didn't have a single martial bone in our bodies, lacked population compared to the other three groups and were almost entirely unicorns of arcane alignment. Being aligned with pure unaspected magic is great for versatility, but we just don't have access to the freeform quasi-spells that elemental alignments – and to a lesser degree, solar and lunar alignments – are known to pop out at the drop of a hat. We have to cast our spells properly if we want anything to happen, and that takes time and focus, two things that are scarce in combat.”

“However, what we did have was a love of magic, a scholarly culture and most of the Forbidden Section of the Royal Archives of Everfree, carefully preserved over the generations. We managed to devise a method to match – and even surpass – our brethren Orders Stalwart.”

“The thing you have to understand is that caribou magic is based on sacrifice, of giving something of value up and receiving something of lesser value in return. Minor spells are accomplished with burnt offerings – food, incense, whatnot – to their 'gods' – really just tumorous egregores contaminating the thaumosphere with their presence – but more significant works require blood, they require death. Either animals, or, more often, sapients.”

“Uh, that's pretty ...”

“Inefficient? Wasteful? Boring?”

“Not exactly the words that come to mind, no.”

“Well, they're true. Depending on the quality of the spell in question, only about ten percent of the power released by a sacrifice is actually used for the spell, the rest is diverted to feed the insatiable gluttony of their aforementioned 'gods'. And nearly everything they are capable of doing with equine sacrifices could be accomplished by unicorn circle casting, expending nothing but power; hay unicorns of exceptional power could probably manage many of their greater works alone. If that was all there was to caribou magic, I would be happy to dismiss it as the worst tribal or racial magic in existence.”

“But that isn't all there is?”

“Exactly, there more. Caribou can sacrifice things that aren't physical: personality traits, virtues, vices, parts of one's psyche or soul, fundamental aspects of an individual's nature. The possibilities are endless. Caribou mystics sacrifice their sight for greater insight, craftsbucks give up their aggression for skill, and their warriors ... well they sacrifice so, so much of themselves in pursuit of martial power.”

Sanguine looked uncomfortable, “That sounds pretty ... Dark.”

“Grey actually, but then again almost all actually interesting magic is at least Grey ...” Aura paused, “Caribou warriors sacrifice their fear of death, their mercy, their capability to feel pain, love, joy, empathy, even occasionally their very sapience, everything holding them back from becoming the greatest tools of violence possible, traded for further martial power and skill. Everything, that is, except one thing.”

“And that is?”

“Well, the thing about sacrificial magic is that what is given up has to be, well, a sacrifice. That is, it had to have value, and there's this big thing that the caribou just don't value.” Aura paused, “Contrary to ponies, the caribou absolutely despise their nature as a prey species. If you can believe it, they actually think that their completely natural prey instincts are the result of a curse by the wolf god Fenrir, the antagonist deity of their pantheon. Their warriors could give up their fear of death, of injury, of pain, of so many things, but they could never give up their fear of the wolf.”

“Okay ...” Sanguine felt slightly sick, she had a terrible idea of where this was going.

“So, naturally, the ponies who would become the Twilights did the only thing a sane and rational being could do in their situation;” Aura gave a smug smile, “they used corruption magic to imitate the caribou's own magic and sacrificed their very nature as a prey species to the Fenrir, receiving the spirits of an ancient species of long extinct direwolves in return.”

Wow, that's so much worse than I could have imagined.

“And with that one act, the tides turned; armies of hardened, murderous reavers broke in the face of our howls. Many froze, others fled, some even keeled over dead, their hearts having exploded in terror.” Aura smiled maliciously, her face radiating naked aggression, “Courage is not the absence of fear, it is the strength of character to carry on in spite of fear; it turns out that giving up your ability to feel fear only leaves you unable to deal with it. We hunted them, we ran them down, we slaughtered them, we watered the thirsty earth with their blood, we drove them from the Ponylands and we fed their filthy, tainted souls to the unending, ravenous hunger of the Fenrir instead of the fell 'gods' of murder and slaughter and rape and pillage that owned them before.”

Sanguine stared at the mare in horror.

Aura stared back, slightly confused; it was clear that the Equestrian mare was deeply disturbed, perhaps even horrified, but it wasn't like anything Aura had told her was that distressing.

It was, in fact, exactly like that, thought Prince Twilight Sparkle as he trotted with a stiff slightly shaking gait into the centre of Ponyville, his ears pinned back defensively as his eyes darted across the crowd of ponies. Umbra was right, this was a bad idea.

It had started fine enough; they had trotted into the outskirts of the town where a few ponies were. They had stared, of course; oh, they had stared.

And more than just stare, there were the physiological reactions. Dilated pupils and nostrils, panting, snorting, salivating.

Even if Twilight had been noseblind, their lust would have been obvious.

And he was not noseblind. He could smell the unmistakable pheromones of lust and arousal from the mares.

One had even flagged her tail and presented, her nethers winking, making no mystery of what she wanted from the stallion.

It was a ... novel ... experience. One that – strangely enough – the newly made stallion didn't hate.

If anything he had felt flattered and aroused. Even more, the knowledge that he could just take a mare publicly in the middle of the street carried a heady weight to it.

Not that he was actually tempted to do so ... much. After all, some random civilian earth mare of loose character was a poor choice for his first wife.

But then he moved deeper into the town.

A few mares became a few dozen became a few hundred, and before the stallion knew it the crowd had reached a critical mass; he was no longer surrounded by a group of individuals, but by a proper Herd.

As the stallion's eyes flitted across the deindividuated mass of mare; his nose burned with the overwhelming scent of lust, arousal, excitement and anticipation, no longer capable of discerning the scent of any given pony.

In this time, he couldn't help but remember the warnings from his fillyhood, from before his apprenticeship to Celestia, a warning that he now felt deep in his bones. There were few things in the world more dangerous than a proper pony Herd.

There was this common thought amongst the races of the world that the prey races were just less capable of violence than the predator races. It was especially popular with modern Equestrians; living under the Pax Celestia for a thousand years had made them take great Pride in their pacifism.

But it was a misconception. In the wild, predators fought for food, a loss meant they went hungry, but for prey, a loss meant they died. Things only got worse when considering social prey, where the death of a few individuals was oft an acceptable loss to protect the Herd.

And despite their civilization causing them to believe that they were above such base impulses, Equestrians were far, far closer to their animal roots than they were willing to recognize.

A pack of wolves, when confronted with a difficult fight, would flee from danger and go hungry, a herd of ponies might flee. But when they didn't ...

... well there were stories ... stories of manticores or chimera or cragodiles or even young bucking dragons being crushed under the force of the thousand hooves of the Herd. Of course, each time, many ponies had died as well, but that was hardly a consolation for the predator in question.

There were few things in existence that even approached the danger inherent to a modern pony Herd, their prehistoric instincts further reinforced by a positive feedback loop of pheromones and Harmonic magic.

And Twilight found himself right in the middle of one.

It was only by force of will that the stallion was able to avoid barring his teeth in an inequine snarl or spreading his wings in a threat position. Being surrounded by the Herd was stomping heavily on his 'fight of flight' instincts, instincts that were heavily biased in the 'fight' direction. Thank you ancestors.

The last thing he needed was for the Herdmind to reclassify him as a Threat instead of ... whatever he was to it. Fixation? Prospective mate? Could a composite collective organism even view an individual in such a way? Just how sentient even was the Herdmind? Twilight had never even heard of a Herd formed from lust before; although it stood to reason that it could happen with any emotion that had corresponding pheromones.

Twilight shook his head, that wasn't important, and turned his attention to his companions.

Shadow and Umbra were prowling – in an almost predatory gait – in circles around their prince; horns lit and surrounded by a dozen blades of liquid shadow each. They were trotting the metaphorical knife's edge, attempting to enforce a perimeter against the Herd while avoiding setting it off. But there was only so much that two mares could do against the weight of the Herd, every second they were being pushed closer to the stallion they were protecting.

He could feel Spike shaking in terror.

“Please Twilight, do something, I-I don't want to d-die.”

Suddenly, he felt a burning lance of white hot fury flow through him and his mind shifted; he lit his horn and thoughts flitted through his mind at incredible speed as his caster's cortex – the part of the brain that controls a unicorn's spellcasting – came online.

Situation deteriorating.

Estimated 14 s until perimeter failure.

Estimated 17 s until contact with hostiles.

Rules of Engagement: Self-Defence

Spell Type: Nova

Spell Alignment: Force

IFF Type: Blacklist

IFF: [self, son_spike, cousin_shadow, cousin_umbra]

Range: 100 m

Targets Acquired: 237

Impulse: 10 kNs/Target

Total Impulse: 2.37 MNs

Interval: 5 ms

Force: 474 MN

Likelihood of Target Survival: Low

Expected Casualties: Acceptable

Sanguine forcefully pushed down her horror, and found herself conflicted. She glanced down at her flank, at her Mark, a knife swinging in a bloody arc – a Bad Mark, a Talent in bloodshed and violence, a Talent that had gotten her banished from Equestria – and then turned to the larger mare's flank, at her Mark of a six pointed star in a magic circle, a Talent for magic; a good, normal and admirable Talent for any unicorn.

Yet, despite that, the mare displayed a bloodthirsty predatory smile, showing inequinely sharp teeth. It was clear that despite lacking a Talent in bloodshed, this mare was not lacking in either willingness or ability.

The small unicorn mare had no idea what to think about any of that.

“Now, of course, corruption magic is decidedly odd, it lets a unicorn imitate other kinds of magic in a way, but the imitation is never perfect. For example, a unicorn can use corruption magic to take power from the earth much like an earth pony draws strength, but taking that which is not freely given will blight the land, making it less able to support plant life for years, perhaps even longer if enough power is drawn. Honestly, it isn't very useful; channeling power directly from whichever plane your magic most closely aligns with is safer, easier, yields more usable power and doesn't carry any undesirable environmental effects.” The utility greatly improves if in the domain of a friendly Genius Loci, but mentioning that would produce more confusion than clarification. Especially considering that geomancy was completely unknown to the general Equestrian populace.

“Caribou sacrificial magic, while permanent, has never been observed to be hereditary. But it just so happens that the corrupt unicorn imitation of that magic is; something that our ancestors discovered when they sired and birthed rather wolfy foals. What followed was an embarrassing amount of unreasonable angst about how they had 'cursed' their entire bloodline.” Aura rolled her eyes, “Eventually they managed to get over their melodramatic whinging, and realized that our wolfyness wasn't actually the curse they thought it was. Then we decided that if we were going to be wolfponies, then we were going to be the best wolfponies that we could possibly be. Thus the Total Lupequine Enhancement Project, where – using biomancy – we devised countless different enhancements to our bodies and minds over the next dozen or so generations.”

“At the beginning of the Dark Age, those who would become the Twilights were the least capable of combat, but by the mid Dark Age – even with dozens more Orders Stalwart being founded – the Stalwart of Twilight were unambiguously the most capable, and it wasn't even close.”

Sanguine sighed and closed her eyes, attempting to process what she had just been told. “So your ancestors used dark magic to recreate another race's grey magic and accidentally cursed their own bloodline. Then they decided that the curse wasn't so bad and decided to double down with even more grey magic. And now you're an entire bloodline of some kind of magically-enhanced wolfpony super-soldiers?”

“Yup,” Aura replied happily, popping the 'p', “I knew you were a bright young mare.”

Sanguine sighed, “And they never thought that Forbidden Magic might be Forbidden for a reason?”

Aura quirked an eyebrow, “Forbidden by whom, exactly? Putting aside their illegitimacy, cowardice and incompetence for a second, the Council of Magi wouldn't be founded until many hundreds of years later, and the Mages' Guild had been rendered defunct after the Razing of Everfree. In honesty, we were – and still are – the only legitimate heirs of the guild, the only legitimate benefactors of the Clover Treaty, having been descended from the only surviving guild-members.”

Sanguine felt the distinctive signs of an oncoming headache as she stared at her commanding officer turned madmare. The idea that a mare could seamlessly segue from bragging about how her ancestors had magically altered the minds and bodies of their entire bloodline 'countless' times – abusing dark and grey magic to do so – to declaring that those same ancestors were the sole rightful executors of magical law; not recognizing that the former should preclude the latter, was ludicrous.

Not for the first time, Sanguine wondered just how she had ended up in this situation, and gazed unfocused at the far wall.

A moment passed.

“You okay?” Aura asked with concern.

“Huh,” Sanguine shook her head, and turned to Aura, remembering a rumour from her time in CSGU. “I remember stories of Twiggles hunting the wildlife in Princess Celestia's gardens.”

“'Twiggles'?”

“Oh, sorry, Twilight.”

Twilight Aura raised an eyebrow, “I'm afraid you're going to have to be a bit more specific than that.” she replied with a hint of humour, despite having a pretty good idea of whom the smaller unicorn was referring.

“Uh, Twilight Sparkle. Is it weird that everypony refers to her by her family name?”

“Considering that there's well over a thousand different Twilights, absolutely.” Aura paused, “Do keep in mind that Sparkle is a bit of a sore point for a lot of Twilights, there are quite a few of us that feel like she was turned against us by the princess. I'd also recommend against throwing around that nickname too much, we Twilights are very proud of our name and its use might result in some unfortunate misunderstandings.”

“Huh.”

“Although I am happy to hear that Sparkle didn't stop hunting when she was taken into Celestia's delicate clutches. We Twilights don't do very well without our entertainment ...” Aura spoke the word in a way that left no doubt that she meant 'violence', “... our minds decay into stress and neurosis. And hunting is an excellent way for foals to both blow off steam and hone their stealth, speed, endurance, ferocity, agility and perception. Even more, it teaches fundamental life skills like leadership, cooperation, pursuit, tracking, small unit tactics and asymmetric warfare.”

Sanguine stared at the mare for a moment before coming to a realization, “Ha, ha, ha, funny,” she said dryly, “You got me.”

“What?” Aura asked in confusion.

“You're bucking with me, right? Making all this shit up to mess with me.” As much as Sanguine wanted to be outraged at the deceit, the only thing she felt was a strong sense of relief. In retrospect, it was obvious that the ever escalating series of outrageous claims was just the mare yanking her chain, even if it had taken an unreasonable amount of time for her to catch on.

Aura stared at Sanguine with a slightly offended scowl, “Of course not, I would never do such a thing. As the commanding officer of this team, it is imperative that my subordinates can trust me, and I would never jeopardize that for a cheap laugh at your expense.”

Sanguine stared at Aura for a second, coming to the realization that she was being completely sincere. The blue mare was struck silent; she had no idea what to think.

Spark pounced.

Just as Twilight Sparkle was about to release his spell, there was a roaring crack of thunder as a gale ripped through the streets, followed by heavy sheets of frigid rain.

For the first time in way too long – although it couldn't have been much more than fifteen minutes – Twilight breathed a breath of fresh air, untainted by marelust, as the rain ran off his waterproof fur and feathers.

As if a spell broke, the Herd ceased and the street rapidly cleared, mares galloping away to escape the rain.

Twilight unweaved his prepared spell, letting the threads of power dissipate into the ether, but kept his horn lit just in case.

Then, as sudden as it had started, the wind and rain stopped.

Twilight heard a quiet sob and his left ear swivelled back, Spike he thought, before levitating the wyrmling off his withers.

Spike's expression was of mortal terror, tears streaming down his scaled cheeks.

Twilight reared up and wrapped the baby dragon in his forehooves and wings; his ears were swivelling, scanning for any possible Threat.

Spike started bawling, his tears wetting the stallion's feathers in a way that rain couldn't.

Twilight nickered softly to the wyrmling, rubbing his back with his alulae, “It's okay, Spike; you're safe now.”

“I ... I thought they were going to kill me.”

“I would never let that happen, Spike.” Twilight spoke with an intensity that surprised himself, I'll kill any who try.

Neither spoke for several minutes as Spike cried his stress out.

Twilight's first conclusion was that it was merely the irrational, unfounded and unreasonable fears of a child. Celestia had often spoken of how fear could prevent a pony, indeed any creature, from thinking clearly.

Yet there was something that just seemed wrong about that conclusion, something Twilight couldn't quite put his hoof on.

After a couple moments, Twilight realized something. Spike didn't smell afraid; despite how obviously terrified he was. Instead he just smelled of the smoky, slightly metallic scent that Twilight's mind just labeled 'dragon'. Sure it was the individual dragon smell Twilight associated with Spike, sure it was stronger and slightly different than when he was calm, but it was not the kind of difference that Twilight could intuitively recognize as 'fear'.

Ponies could not recognize dragon pheromones, it stood to reason that the converse was also the case. And, well, historically, there was only one reason why a dragon would ever encounter a pony Herd.

Of course Spike had thought they were trying to kill him, he had none of the context that would have told him that anything else was going on.

“I'm so sorry, Spike. I should never have put you into that situation, I should have recognized the warning signs of herding and gotten us out of there.”

“It's not your fault, Twilight.” the wyrmling spoke, looking up at Twilight with a look of hurt and betrayal, “But why? Why would they ...”

Twilight sighed, “Would it help if I told you that they weren't after you?”

“What?”

“They were after me.”

“But, you're a pony, an alicorn princes... prince. Why would they want to kill you?”

“They didn't. Want to kill me that is. They were after me for a different reason ...” The stallion trailed off awkwardly, he really didn't want to elaborate too much about the literal rapeherd that they had just encountered to the prepubescent dragon.

“What were they after?”

“That isn't important right now.” Twilight replied slightly too quickly.

Spike's eyes widened in realization before narrowing in anger, “How dare they?” he wrung his claws in anger, “Why I want to ...”

Twilight looked at Spike, whose fear seemed to have been forgotten in his adorable protective anger, “You don't need to protect me, Spike, I am more than capable of protecting myself.” Twilight winced, remembering the lethal force he had been seconds away from unleashing, if anything, ponies need to be protected from me.

“But ...” Spike pouted.

Twilight laughed lightly and ruffled the wyrmling's spines with a wing as he released him from his embrace.

“Is everypony okay down there?”

Twilight looked up to see a narrow stormfront, depleted of its rain; the head of a grey stallion visible over the edge. “I take it you're the one responsible for the wind and rain? Thank you for your intervention, that almost got pretty ugly. Thunderlane, correct?”

The pegasus flew down to meet the alicorn, “Uh, yeah, and it's no big deal, anypony would have done the same.”

“But ‘anypony’ didn't do it, you did. That was rather quick thinking on your part, so thank you.”

“It was the least I could do, I couldn't watch while that happened to another stallion, especially not a friend of Dash.”

“A friend of Dash?” Not 'prince' or 'liegelord' or even 'hero of Equestria', but a 'friend of Rainbow Dash', interesting.

“Well, yeah, she might be a bit of a hardflank, but I owe her so much, more than I can explain; we all do.”

Twilight tilted his head, wondering what the story behind that could be, and who exactly was meant by 'we'. “So, does 'that' happen often to stallions?”

The other stallion winced before making a so-so gesture with his wings, “Ehhh, not exactly ... and I've never even heard of it happening in open air, but in enclosed spaces with poor ventilation? Yeah, it sometimes happens, even seen it a couple times ...” He shuddered heavily, implying he had more than just seen it.

Great, I just love being special. “I'd never heard of herding instincts resulting in that.”

Thunderlane chuckled awkwardly, “Mares tend not to like talking about it ...”

Umbra scoffed, “Ah, a fetid gaping wound in society ignored, all because it's impolite to talk about it, how distressingly Equestrian.”

Twilight rolled his eyes; from the way the twins talked, one would think that they were Twilights, “Umbra, you were born in Canterlot.”

“Irrelevant.”

Thunderlane glanced between the two ponies, “Uh, hello?” he said somewhat awkwardly.

Twilight turned back to the stallion, “These two are Umbra and Shadow, they're my guards, and they are very grateful to you for your timely intervention.” he said, giving a side eye to the two mares.

“Oh, uh, right. You did good avoiding the herd call, that's pretty difficult.”

“Only to ponies who are weak of mind.” Umbra replied dismissively.

Twilight facehooofed.

“Yeah, and while Sparkle here might be a total studmuffin, we ain't cousin-bucking degenerates ... well I'm not, the jury's still out on Umbra here.”

“Excuse me!” Umbra shouted in outrage.

“You are excused,” Shadow replied quickly before turning to Thunderlane, “Nice to meet you Thunderlane,” the mare purred, sauntering seductively towards the stallion, “I'm Dame Shadow Star, sworn to the Great House Twilight, personal guard to His Royal Highness Prince Sparkle of House Twilight, veteran of both the Gryphon Civil War and the Changeling War and part time supervillain. It's nice to meet you.” she leered while reaching out a hoof for a shake.

Thunderlane blushed, “Uh, I have a marefriend.”

“I'd be very surprised if you didn't; do you want another? I'm sure I could talk her into sharing.”

The stallion froze, barely comprehending what he had just been told.

“What in tarnation is going on over here. Ah don't know what you featherbrains are doing, there ain't any rain or wind on the weather schedule.”

“Oh, look, literally anything else.” Thunderlane said, turning towards the furious mare, “Sorry about that, Applejack, something important came up.”

“Important? Important?! Ah have a hundred mares half frozen to death because you got it in yer head to have an unscheduled rainstorm.”

“Oh, what a travesty; truly, my heart bleeds for them.” Twilight replied in a sarcastic deadpan before adopting a more serious countenance, “Stand down, Applejack; Thunderlane here produced the storm on my behalf. He acted nobly and decisively to deescalate a dangerous situation, he does not deserve the scorn you are giving him.”

“And just who are you to decide that? Mares are going to get sick because of this fit of whimsy.”

Umbra scoffed, “Maybe they should try not being weak. Ponies do have fur.”

Applejack's eyes narrowed, “You.” she spit out.

“No, it's actually me you're thinking of, she's the boring sister.” Shadow interjected lazily.

Twilight let out a deep, wolf-like growl, “Well, they better consider it a learning experience, because I was going to do much worse than just get them wet; how's that for whimsy? As for who I am, I am Magic.” The alicorn lit his horn and spread his wings as he Pronounced his Mantle.

Applejack froze as she was suddenly assaulted with the undeniable knowledge that this pony before her – who she had previously failed to recognize – was her good friend Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight stared at the earth mare for a second and sighed, he probably shouldn't have done that. Celestia would be disappointed in him for abusing Pronouncements; Twilight felt his blood run cold, how could he do such a thing? Why was he such a Bad Pony? Mantles weren't toys to be used however he wanted; they were a heavy responsibility, only to be used in dire need. Yet he had spoken a Pronouncement because he was annoyed. What kind of pony does that ...

A hoostrike to the shoulder broke him out of his neurotic spiral.

“Watch ...” Umbra spoke with a hint of amusement, pointing a hoof.

Shadow was sneaking up upon Applejack from the side, reaching hooves towards the earth mare's hat ...

Suddenly Applejack whirled around, aiming her hindquarters at the dark unicorn before performing a textbook perfect Apple Clan patented 'Applebuck'.

Shadow danced to the side, dodging Applejack's hooves by a hair while laughing, “Be careful where you're waving those kickers, Applebuck, you could hurt somepony with them.”

Twilight sighed, the antipathy between Shadow and Applejack had been a near constant vexation for the alicorn for the last couple months. It was not enjoyable to have your guard and close friend at each other's throat.

The rivalry had started shortly after the twins had become Twilight's guards, with what could only be called a faux pas.

House Twilight believed that each individual was their own agent, therefore mares were free to approach unattached stallions without anypony's permission.

That was not the case in Equestria; at least, not for stallions. A mare was obligated to get the consent of the stallion's 'legal guardian'. Consent that could be – and often was – denied for any reason.

Applejack, in particular, was a stickler for such rules. After the love poison incident, it had taken months for her to even speak to Cheerilee, and even to this day there was a level of distrust aimed at her. Never mind that the schoolteacher had been just as much a victim as Big Mac.

So when Applejack had happened upon Shadow flirting with Big Mac, the earth mare had come to the conclusion that the unicorn was a mare of poor moral character – a poacher and a whorse – and nothing Twilight did or said could do to disabuse her stubborn friend of the notion.

Applejack's constant attempts to get Twilight to discharge the twins had been a severe aggravation for the last couple months.

Just who did Applejack want Twilight to replace the twins with? It's not like Twilight had a guard because she had wanted to. As alicorn royalty, it was demanded that Twilight had something roughly approximating a guard.

Twilight could have just grabbed a bunch of random civilians and declared them the 'Dusk Guard', 'Magic Guard' or something. But well, that's effectively what Cadance had done with her now defunct Heart Guard, choosing guards based upon their ability to 'spread love' rather than martial ability.

And Celestia's Royal Guard wasn't much better, being composed entirely of pretty boy stallions trained more in marital arts than martial.

The changeling invasion had proven both worse than useless.

Most of the Heart Guard's recruits, from the very beginning, had been changeling infiltrators – being emotivore empaths had apparently given them a hoof up on Cadence's tests – and the ones who weren't were quickly replaced.

It had been the Heart Guard that had been responsible for Cadence's seamless foalnapping and replacement.

And then the Royal Guard had folded like wet paper in the actual invasion. Even Shiny's shield spell – a truly impressive abjuration – had only given a false sense of security against an enemy that had already been among them.

So forgive Twilight if she had wanted guards who could actually fight if need be.

The twins were actual veterans of actual wars – including against the changelings – were unflinchingly loyal and – due to their shadow alignment – had a wide variety of spells to make themselves imperceptible at will. That last point meant that Twilight had managed to live a relatively normal life despite being followed around by two guards all day, every day.

So, no, Twilight was not going to replace his guard because Applejack disapproved of one of them.

That said, Twilight dearly wished that Shadow wouldn't go out of her way to aggravate Applejack so much. The unicorn had up and declared Applejack to be her 'archnemesis' shortly after the inciting incident.

Normal, sane ponies don't do that, but the world gave up any hope of the twins ever being normal when they got adopted into House Twilight, and likewise, sanity had been a goner when they joined the same team as Twilight bucking Flare.

Twilight Sparkle was somewhat of a fan of Daring Do, so when she had actually met the apparently not fictional mare, she couldn't help but notice that one of the series' villain teams corresponded concerningly well with the strike team that was mared by no less than four of her cousins.

That she had caught Shadow casually chatting with Doctor Caballeron, in a way that indicated a level of familiarity, might have had a part in making the logical leap.

'Part-time supervillain' indeed.

And no, the fact that 'Doctor Caballeron' was actually 'Twilight Mirage', a distant cousin with a talent in illusions didn't help, nor did the fact that the 'Ring of Destiny' that she was selling was actually a carefully constructed forgery, with the real one already locked up in Twilight Manor.

Bucking Flare, it's all her fault. 'Infernator' of the Evil League of Evil – and what catastrophically stupid names those were – was the second villain to appear in the series after the monkey-dog thing Ahuizotl, first appearing in book two.

And no, Twilight still wasn't sure what exactly Ahuizotl even was. He had thought that he was a fictional species, a brainchild of the esteemed author A. K. Yearling, but no, apparently he was real.

Twilight had liked Daring Do better when it had been fiction. The world had made more sense.

Twilight was broken out of his griping by another hit from Umbra.

“Why don't yah ... just ... stay ... still, whorse.” shouted Applejack between heavy breaths, before charging Shadow.

“Ole! Ole!” Shadow pirouetted out of Applejack's charge, laughing, “Make me, Applebuck.”

Twilight glowered, “ENOUGH!!!” he lit his horn and levitated both feuding mares, overpowering their respective Domain of Self with brute magical force. For most unicorns, such a feat would be almost impossible, for Twilight Sparkle, it was trivial.

Applejack squirmed with all the force in her muscles, but she lacked any skill with Domain enforcement, so she was easier to hold than Rarity, who had a fraction of the earth mare's strength or magical power.

And Shadow's attempts to slip out of his grasp by making her Domain ... 'as slick as shadow' if Twilight read the Intent correctly was stopped by a look.

“The two of you will stop fighting now, or so help me Celestia, I will be giving you remedial friendship lessons together for the next three months. Twenty hours a week.”

“Ah don't have time fer that, ah have a farm to run.”

“Then it doesn't sound like you have the time to attempt aggression upon my guard, does it?”

Shadow snickered.

Twilight's gaze snapped to the mare, “And you will stop harassing Applejack, she doesn't want to be your 'archnemesis'.” The stallion paused, “And if you ever call me ...” Twilight grimaced in disgust, “... 'studmuffin' again, I'm hanging you from the parapets by your tail.”

Applejack mouthed 'studmuffin' silently in confusion before finally coming to the realization that the strange stallion she hadn't recognized and her good friend Twilight Sparkle were, in fact, one and the same, “Twi, yer a stallion.”

“A real master of the obvious, aren't we today?” Twilight spoke in a harsh sarcastic tone.

Applejack flinched.

Twilight sighed, “I'm sorry, that was uncalled for, I didn't mean it that way ...” he looked into the distance, “... I've had a stressful day so far, but that doesn't excuse my lashing out.” he released both mares from his magical grasp.

'Twi, why are you a stallion?”

Twilight sighed, “It's a long story.”

“It was magic wasn't it.”

“Of course it was magic, but you have no idea how little that narrows it down.”

Suddenly Sanguine felt hooves wrap around her barrel and lift her off the ground.

“Aura, what were you doing hassling me about my height when you have this adorable ... little ... marelet ... in Eta Team?” Spark squeed, “Look at her tiny little hooves, her tiny little horn, she's like a mare built in miniature.”

Aura sighed, looking at her sister and the squirming pony in her grasp.

“Let me go you brute.”

Spark looked soulfully at Aura, “Can I keep her? I want to hug her and pet her and squeeze her, and call her George.”

“No Spark, you can't 'keep' one of my soldiers.”

“Awwww ...”

“If you don't put me down, I swear to Celestia I'll stab you.”

Spark paused, “Is stabbing ponies your Special Talent?”

Sanguine froze.

Aura sighed and facehoofed, “Spark, she's Equestrian.”

Spark's eyes widened, then squeezed Sanguine tight, “I'm so sorry; that must have been hell, to be raised among such detestable, hypocritical pacifists.” Spark spoke the last word with a surprising amount of disgust. “Stabbing ponies is a perfectly good talent; stars know that there are more than a few ponies that desperately need to be stabbed, like those bastards of House Hurricane. They need to be stabbed over and over and over, until their insides become their outsides.”

And now they're casually advocating for the murder of an entire Founding House. Sanguine had no idea how to respond to any of this. This is my life now.

“Could you please put her down, Spark?”

“Fine,” Spark sighed and put down the mare.

Lepidoptera darted in and caught the emotionally exhausted mare.

Sanguine gave the changeling a thin smile; just yesterday the bug-pony had been the strangest part of her new employment. Such thoughts seemed quaint now.

“Now, Spark, not that I'm complaining, but it seems unusual that you would meet us here; aren't you usually busy with your tinkering?”

Spark smirked, her tail wagging in amusement.

“Something happened while we were gone, correct.”

“Some things.”

Aura sighed, “Well?”

“Well ...” Spark smugged at her older sister.

Brat, Aura scoffed, shaking her head, “Well, spit it out. What has transpired during our mission?”

“Well, a certain mare has been seen in Vanhoover, inquiring about the legends of the Ghostwolves.” Spark waggled her eyebrows.

“'A certain mare'?” Aura asked, before coming to a realization, “Daring?”

“Aye.” Spark waggled her eyebrows.

Aura glanced at Flare and found the mare was – as expected – literally vibrating in excitement, her uncaring facade all but shattered, “Go on.” Aura said with a smirk.

“AHAHAHA, THE INFERNATOR RIDES AGAIN!” Flare shouted in triumph before disappearing in a burst of flame.

A couple of the logistics ponies chuckled as Spark smirked.

“Vat vas that about?”

“So there's this pegasus, she has quite a Talent for unearthing things long forgotten: ancient temples, legendary fortresses, mythical libraries, that kind of thing. But she's ... uh ...” Aura trailed off.

“... a bucking idiot.” Spark finished.

Aura sighed, “Well, let's just say that she's the kind of mare to leave a staff designed to blow up the sun in the Manehattan Museum of Equine History. I mean, we're pretty certain that the Staff of Inevitable Darkness doesn't work as advertised – although we're not going to test it for obvious reasons – but well ... Daring had no way of knowing that.”

“Wait,” Sanguine, “You're talking about Daring Do, the adventure book character?”

Aura scoffed, “Yeah; then there's the entire part where she publishes her adventures as fiction novels.”

“The Daring Do series is nonfiction?” Sanguine sighed, it was somehow one of the least absurd things she'd heard today.

“Eh, more like 'inspired by real events'.” She paused, “So – due to her improbable ability to dig dangerous things up – House Twilight had always kept a close eye on the mare.” Aura sighed, “And then – during a routine observation mission – one pony got bored ...” Aura glanced at the scorch mark left from Flare's teleportation, “... and sauntered up to Daring, claiming to be 'The Infernator' from the 'Evil League of Evil' and just started monologuing at the mare.” Aura scoffed, “It was absurd, she claimed to be an operative of the 'Parliament of Flames' fighting for the freedom of fire from their 'pony oppressors'; any sane pony should have recognized it as nonsense, but no, not Daring; Daring believed her.”

“And that's how we became supervillians in a foals' adventure series.” Spark nodded sagely.

“Of course, it wasn't long until the other teams did something similar.”

Of course, Sanguine scoffed.

“And now the majority of Daring Do villains are actually Twilight teams.” said Spark.

“And the Ghostwolves are Northwestern Equestrian folklore resulting from our continued gatekeeping of the caribou menace, quite a few Twilights have been eagerly awaiting the day our wayward adventurer discovers them.” Aura shook her head with a soft smile, “She's in for an exciting time, I imagine. It'll be a lot of fun.”

Yes, 'fun', Sanguine sighed.

“And Sparkle's now a stallion.” Spark smirked, deliberately dropping a non-sequitur.

Aura went to nod before recognizing what Spark had said, “What?” She turned to her sister.

“Sparkle's a stallion now.” Spark smiled innocently at her older sister.

Aura glared at the mare, “When? Why? How?”

“Dunno; sometime in the last couple days; we only found out last night when he woke the manor with a howl that could be heard all the way from Ponyville.” Spark smirked, “As to why and how, it's Sparkle, I ain't got to explain shit.”

Aura sighed, “Sparkle is just an exceptionally powerful ma ... stallion and an alicorn. Sh ... he is subject to the same laws of magic that anypony is.”

“Then why is Sparkle an alicorn?”

Aura scowled, “You know I don't know the answer to that. We just don't have enough information about the metamorphosis to even posit a hypothesis.”

“Ha, checkmate Celestines.”

Aura facehoofed.

“Also, father's standing by the door; he's doing that thing where he forgets how to be an animate being and transmogrifies into a statue. I think he might want to talk to you.”

Glancing at the door, Aura realized her sister was right. Their father, the 'esteemed' Twilight Frost was standing there, completely stationary. Even worse, he was staring at Aura with a cold intensity that was all too familiar. Not for the first time, Aura felt glad that the stallion had as little involvement with his daughters as he had. “Show the rookies to the rooms Spark, I'll see what father wants.”

“Aye, aye, capitan.” Spark slammed a hoof into her chest in mock salute, “We will forever remember your sacrifice.”

Aura rolled her eyes and trotted over to the stallion. It was only with an act of will that managed to avoid shivering under his cold gaze.

She halted two body lengths from the stallion and stared directly into his eyes, “Father, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Despite being of roughly equivalent height, the stallion still managed to look down on Aura, “Captain, High Lady Velvet wishes to speak with you.” he stated in his trademark cold monotone before turning and leaving the room in a stiff mechanical trot that was more reminiscent of an automaton than any living being.

Buck, Aura scowled; while she had never quite bought into the mystique surrounding High Lady Twilight Velvet, Head of House Twilight and Duchess of Twilight, it was undeniable that Aura's aunt was unstable and more than a little bit unpleasant. Even worse, she was not the kind of mare that Aura could casually disregard the summons of; the title of head of house demanded respect, even if Lady Velvet had done nothing to earn it.

Thus, an unhappy Aura followed her cold father to what may very well be her doom.

“So yeh done cast another of this Starswirl fella's spells and now yer a stallion?”

“Yes.” Twilight scoffed, “The last time I cast a Starswirl the Bearded spell, it gave me wings. This time ...”

“... it gave you a cock.” interrupted Shadow.

“Thank you, Shadow,” Twilight replied in a sarcastic deadpan, “Your input in this conversation has been truly invaluable, I don't know what I would do without you.”

“I dunno, probably die.”

Twilight snorted derisively.

Applejack looked between Twilight and Shadow; the words they spoke to each other were harsh, unfitting for either a prince or his guard. Yet, there wasn't any heat in those words, and they displayed a familiarity that couldn't have been the result of the mere months the mare had been Twilight's guard.

“So, when yah fixin' to make yerself a mare again?”

Twilight froze, for some reason he hadn't expected that question. Why hadn't he expected that question? He should have expected it. “I'm not.”

Applejack recoiled, “What? Why?”

Twilight paused, uncertain what to tell his friend.

He could just tell her 'because Princess Celestia said so'. It would be the truth.

Or would it? It had been the reason why Twilight had burnt his notes yesterday, but, strangely, it no longer felt true. Like it had somehow become a half-truth overnight.

Even worse, saying such a thing would set Applejack upon the Princess. The mare had a strong – if not always correct – sense of fairness and a lack of respect for status. She would interfere, in that blunt uncompromising way Applejack was want to do.

Applejack didn't need to know, nay it was better if she never knew. It would save untold grief. Not to mention it would save the mare from the possible retribution were she to go too far.

Twilight immediately felt disgusted with himself. Princess Celestia was wise. Princess Celestia was just. Princess Celestia was merciful. She would never hurt a pony for disagreeing with her, no matter how rudely.

What wise, just and merciful pony would do what she did to me?

Twilight could tell Applejack a platitude about how 'a magical effect was harder to reverse than cause' or how such a spell didn't exist. They would both be true statements, but as responses to Applejack's question, they would both be lies. They merely made the endeavour more difficult, not impossible, and the difficulty of the task had never been a factor in Twilight's decision.

Twilight wanted to tell the Truth, but how could he when he didn't even know what the Truth was?

“Remember Twilight, the Flesh is the seat of Lies, it is only through the Light of Intellect that one can determine the Truth.” Princess Celestia spoke gently, “In Truth, you are not a filly, you are not a pony, not even are you a unicorn, you are a mind trapped in the carceral power of Flesh.”

“I don't understand.” Twilight looked upon Princess Celestia in terrible confusion.

“You will.” Princess Celestia smiled softly.

I do now.

I hate you.

Twilight felt strange ...

... it was like, for the first time in 19 years, for two thirds of his life, Twilight felt like he fit in his body.

For the first time in 19 years, for two thirds of his life, Twilight was more than a disembodied mind trapped in flesh.

For the first time in 19 years, for two thirds of his life, Twilight was.

“Because, Applejack.” Twilight spoke with tears streaming down his face, “I am a stallion.”