Twilight opened her eyes and blinked in annoyance as the golden sunlight shone through the half-drawn curtains, dazzling her. A quiet mumble escaped her lips as she turned her head away.

“Mmmm… Spike, close the curtains,” she murmured sleepily, her mouth barely open, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. No answer.

“Spike,” she repeated hoarsely, this time with a hint of desperation, her voice half-muffled by the pillow. Her body felt strange, sluggish and heavy, as though she had slept for an eternity. Her head was spinning, and her throat was as dry as sandpaper. She tried for a while longer to fall back asleep, but the discomfort inside her wouldn’t allow it.

With a soft groan, she finally forced herself upright, her muscles protesting every movement. She opened her sticky eyes, blinking to see her surroundings more clearly, and froze.

This was not her bedroom in the Golden Oaks Library. Nor was it her bed.

A queasy feeling spread through her chest as she looked around. The room was unfamiliar, yet there was a strange sense of familiarity that she couldn’t quite place. She lay in a huge queen-size bed covered in red silk sheets with gold embroidery. Ornately carved hardwood furniture dotted the space. Directly opposite her hung a large golden mirror decorated with sun ornaments worked into the frame. Where, by Celestia, was she?

Her gaze wandered across the room and settled on a small side table next to the bed. There stood a glass of water and, beside it, some freshly cut apple slices neatly arranged on a plate. Were those meant for her? The thought gave her pause, but she was uncomfortably reminded of her scratchy throat, and her thirst quickly overruled any doubt.

Without further hesitation, she enveloped the glass in her magic, lifted it to her lips, and drank it down in one gulp. The cool liquid felt like balm to her throat, even if it only briefly soothed her. For a moment, she held the empty glass suspended in midair, staring at it before setting it back on the table. Whoever had placed it there… clearly knew she would wake up. But where was that pony now?

Slowly, Twilight let her hooves slide over the edge of the bed and sat up. Her legs trembled when she stood, and the moment she took a step forward, she stumbled. A sudden dizziness overwhelmed her, and her vision blurred as though her body was rebelling against the movement. She gasped for air and half-leaned against the bed, half against the floor, her heart pounding as though she had just run a sprint. How long had she been lying here? Days? Weeks? Her thoughts swirled, but no clear answer emerged.

After what felt like an eternity, though it was probably only a minute, her vision gradually cleared, and her breathing became steadier. Unsteadily, she pushed herself onto all four hooves again and waited a moment until the ground under her felt solid. She blinked a few times, then her gaze drifted to the door on the right side of the bed. She took one step at a time, carefully, as though any movement might throw her off balance again.

When she reached the door, her mulberry-colored magic flared to life. A softly glowing aura enveloped the doorknob, and she immediately sensed that something was off. A gentle warmth emanated from the knob, almost soothing, yet so unnatural that she hesitated. A frown formed on her brow as she focused her magical senses, her eyes half-closed.

Cautiously, she let her magic probe further, feeling beyond the room. It was subtly concealed, but there was definitely something there. A finely woven net extending from the door into every corner of the room. Runes, visible only to trained eyes, pulsed in a slow, harmonious rhythm. Twilight snorted softly. These were protective spells.

Had she not been trained for years by the immortal Princess of the Sun herself, she might not have noticed the magical web at all. Yet now she could almost grasp its complexity. Each rune seemed to hold its own puzzle, and the interwoven magic was so perfect that she could spend months unraveling even just the basics. The energy that pulsed within it was enormous. Enough to hold back an army or reduce an entire village to ashes.

And yet… there was that odd sense of familiarity. Twilight furrowed her brow, sensing the magical signature. It felt warm, almost caring, like the embrace of a mother or a lover. And yet, she couldn’t say exactly whose magic it was.

“Well, I guess there’s no other way,” Twilight muttered with a soft sigh. She gathered her strength and finally pushed the door open, her magic still at the ready in case something unexpected should happen.

Glowing Shield was a Praetorian guard of the Royal Guard of Canterlot, and honestly, he was quite proud of that fact. His family had served the Crown for four generations, and he saw it as his duty to continue that tradition with dignity. Besides, how many ponies could claim to serve under the mightiest ruler in the world?

He was a young, sturdy Earth Pony stallion with a light-gray coat, a silver mane, and amber eyes. An imposing figure, in his own opinion. Yes, he loved his job. That didn’t mean he was immune to boredom, though.

The truth was, a pony could only stand motionless in a hallway for so long before the mind started looking for distractions. And this monotonous, seemingly endless corridor certainly wasn’t helping. After two weeks on guard duty in this specific spot, he at least knew that the corridor had exactly 4,021 white marble tiles, 82 candles, 17 paintings, and 3 tapestries. Not that this information was ever going to be useful.

He yawned expansively and shifted his weight onto the spear he kept casually leaned against his side. With a pang of self-irony, he wondered whether this hallway might win a prize for “most boring workplace in all of Equestria.” But hey, at least it was peaceful here.

Or so he thought, until suddenly a soft click came from the door behind him. His ears twitched. The door? It shouldn’t. He turned his head just in time to see the door handle glow with a magical aura. For a moment, he stared dumbfounded at the door slowly swinging open, then hastily snapped back to attention, eyes wide.

Twilight stumbled through the door and looked curiously at the guard in front of her. “Oh, hello!” she said in a friendly tone, forcing a slight smile. Her legs still felt a bit shaky, but she managed to appear almost relaxed. “You wouldn’t happen to know how I got here, would you?” she asked, her voice polite yet tinged with curiosity, as if speaking to an old acquaintance.

Glowing Shield’s thoughts raced. This couldn’t be. Twilight Sparkle had been in a coma for months. And now, suddenly, she was standing right in front of him. What was he supposed to do again in this situation? His eyes widened as his brain scrambled for the correct response. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his once-perfect posture began to wobble slightly.

“Uh…” he finally managed, his eyes darting frantically around the hallway, as though one of those 4,021 marble tiles might hold an instruction manual for this scenario.

“G-greetings, uh… Miss Sparkle,” he said at last, sounding a bit lost, before abruptly freezing in place. His eyes narrowed, and a look of pure panic spread across his face. “I mean…” He bowed hastily, nearly dropping his spear. “G-greetings, Your Highness!”

Twilight frowned and looked at the guard in confusion. His overly formal response seemed so odd that she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be concerned. “You can relax,” she finally said hesitantly, as if she didn’t want to frighten him even more. She waited patiently for him to straighten back up before trying again.

“So…” She gave him her friendliest smile, although it wavered slightly with the confusion in her eyes. “Could you maybe tell me why I woke up in that room? Or how I even got here? Or…”

Her words trailed off as she took a closer look around. The long, sterile hallway was adorned with red banners displaying a sharper, more aggressive version of Celestia’s Cutie Mark. An angular, stylized sun whose rays looked like deadly weapons. Unknown paintings and tapestries hung on the walls, and the overall atmosphere felt alien. Despite the warm color scheme, the place seemed cold, as though it no longer had anything to do with the Canterlot she knew.

“…or where I am at all,” she finished, the confusion in her voice more evident than before. Her eyes darted back to the guard, who now looked as though he might either answer or collapse inwardly at any second.

“Of course, Your Highness.” Glowing Shield quickly straightened up, posture rigid as a marble column. “If you would be so kind as to follow me. I have strict orders that, should you awaken, I’m to bring you directly to Queen Daybreaker. She will answer all of your questions.”

Twilight blinked and tilted her head slightly. “Queen Daybreaker?” The word “Queen” made her raise an eyebrow. Who was this Queen Daybreaker, and why had she never heard of her?

A sinking feeling settled in Twilight’s chest, but she forced herself to remain composed. “Well… all right.” She nodded slowly, her thoughts already swirling as she cast the guard a scrutinizing look. “Then lead the way.”

On cue, Glowing Shield spun around and marched stiffly down the hallway, as though he were a mechanical toy soldier. Twilight watched him, perplexed, for a moment, then quickly followed after him to keep up.

He led her down a side corridor, then into a grand hallway. The moment they turned the corner, Twilight recognized the tall windows and vaulted ceilings immediately. She’d suspected as much, but now she knew, she really was in Canterlot Castle. These halls were familiar to her, a place she had once called home. Yet something was different.

The corridors of Canterlot Castle had never been plain, but now they seemed overloaded with splendor and pomp. Gleaming gold decorations shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the large, artfully designed windows. The warm glow of the light danced upon the polished marble floors and reflected in chandeliers that hung from the ceiling like glass suns.

Where once the sky-blue flag of Equestria and banners bearing Celestia’s and Luna’s Cutie Marks had hung, now the same red banners Twilight had noticed before were everywhere. The angular, imposing sun symbol seemed to radiate overwhelming authority, like an untamed flame poised to consume everything.

The once lush floral arrangements and the colorful, playful designs that had once decorated the halls were gone. In their place were gleaming suits of armor, lavishly ornate swords, and expensive paintings in oversized golden frames. Twilight examined the details, each placed with precision, yet the overall effect was anything but comforting.

“Why does everything look so different?” she wondered, hesitating as she walked. The décor sent a clear message of domination.

While they walked through the corridors, Twilight noticed several maids going about their duties. Some were dusting paintings, others watering plants or polishing the immaculate marble tiles with near-mechanical precision.

Upon seeing Twilight, they froze, their eyes widening. For a moment, they stood as if petrified, as though they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Then they hastily bowed, lowering their heads so deeply it seemed almost exaggerated in its submissiveness. Twilight blinked in surprise at the odd behavior, her mind piling on more questions.

A thought dawned on her. If Glowing Shield was so determined not to tell her anything, maybe one of the maids would be less restrained. She let her gaze sweep over the bowed ponies and considered speaking to one of them. Her eyes finally settled on a young pink mare with a blue mane.

“Excuse me,” Twilight said kindly, stopping before one of the maids. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to answer a few of my questions, would you?”

The maid flinched, nearly dropping the feather duster she was holding. Her expression was tense, her eyes flicked briefly to the banners on the wall before returning to Twilight. “Of course, Your Highness,” she replied in a forced friendly tone, an anxious smile on her face. “What would you like to know?”

Twilight tilted her head slightly, her smile gentle as her eyes noted the maid’s tension. “Well, first of all, I’d like to know what happened to the castle. It looks like it was completely redecorated overnight.” Her words were calm, almost casual, but her mind was racing.

It’s obvious that this redesign is the work of Queen Daybreaker, she thought. If I can learn more about the changes, maybe I can learn something about her personality and how she seized power.

The maid swallowed and hesitated before she looked up at Twilight again. She seemed about to say something, but then her gaze flickered behind Twilight, where Glowing Shield stood on guard, trying to look inconspicuous. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, his expression stern, almost warning.

“I… I’m afraid I can’t say, Your Highness,” the maid finally replied, her voice softer than before. “Perhaps… the Queen herself could answer your questions.”

Twilight felt a flare of frustration, but she forced herself to remain polite. “Of course,” she said with a small smile, though her mind was already running through other possibilities.

Daybreaker sat upon her golden throne, its design resembling an erupting sunrise, flame patterns running along the armrests that seemed to pulse with each of her breaths. Her massive wings were spread behind her like the shadows of a bird of prey, poised to strike. Her fiery mane blazed, tongues of flame flickering around her head and casting dancing shadows on the throne room walls.

Her golden, reptilian eyes bore down with merciless intensity on the pony before her. Her expression wavered somewhere between boredom and irritated patience, as though she’d already lost interest in the scene, yet every movement of her body radiated a tension, as if she might pounce like a predator at any moment.

“Well, let’s bring this farce to an end.” Daybreaker’s voice was calm, almost offhanded, yet it seemed to fill the entire room with her presence.

“Lord Crescent,” she began, elegantly crossing her forehooves as though this were merely a formal exercise, “you have been summoned here today because your house is suspected of being involved in the attack on the life of my Twilight.”

A barely audible murmur rippled through the chamber, but Daybreaker merely raised an eyebrow, and silence instantly returned. “Your house has been in a bitter feud with House Blueblood for two generations,” she continued, pausing slightly to let the words sink in. “And how many times have we heard your… concerns that Twilight, born a commoner, was personally trained by me?”

She leaned forward just a bit, her golden eyes glowing like embers beneath the surface. Her voice was an unsettling contrast, both sweet and cold at the same time. “It would be… elegant, wouldn’t it?” Her words hung like a snare in the air. “Killing two birds with one stone. A poison attack on my Twilight, so cunningly staged that House Blueblood would fall under suspicion.”

A heavy silence fell on the room, even the soft crackle of the torches on the walls seemed to have died away. Daybreaker let a dramatic pause linger, her lips curling into a dangerous smile. “And then the poisoned wine was served in a crystal glass,” she added softly, each syllable like a dagger, “manufactured by an artisanal workshop that has enjoyed your generous patronage for years.”

Before her throne knelt a noble stallion with white coat and a red mane. Sweat beaded on his brow as his breathing turned fast and irregular. He hardly dared to look up as he spoke in a trembling voice, “Your Majesty… I understand that my house has a valid motive for this… atrocity. But I assure you, we had nothing to do with this heinous act.”

He raised his head cautiously, his eyes pleading for mercy. “Whoever is behind this went to great lengths to plant false evidence to draw your investigation toward my house. It’s a clever diversion, to shift your attention away from themselves.”

“Perhaps,” Daybreaker mused, her voice almost casual as she leaned back into her throne. Her eyes, however, remained keenly focused on Lord Crescent, like a predator studying its prey. “Tell me, Lord Crescent…” she said, licking her lips.

“Why would someone commit such an assassination at such a public occasion?” Her tone was soft, almost contemplative, but the undertone was razor-sharp. “If someone merely wanted to murder Twilight, there are surely… more suitable opportunities. Ones with fewer witnesses. Don’t you agree?”

She raised an eyebrow, her mane flickering like flames in the wind, her words echoing off the walls. Her hooves idly toyed with a scroll, the gesture making her look more like a curious child than the deadly predator she truly was.

“Well…” The lord cleared his throat, his voice shaking slightly, though he tried to maintain a façade of calm. “I find it quite plausible that the perpetrator didn’t just want to kill Twilight and get away with it.” He paused briefly before adding cautiously, “They also wanted to deal a blow to House Blueblood. There are… many ponies who have a problem with House Blueblood.”

Daybreaker gave a quiet, almost amused laugh that was more of a hiss. “And how many of those ponies,” she began, her voice syrupy sweet but laced with danger, “had access to the banquet hall and also a motive to kill Princess Twilight?”

Her eyes glinted like molten gold as she leaned forward slightly, her wings shifting ever so slightly behind her. The temperature in the room seemed to rise with each word, as though the air itself were responding to her mood. “That’s an interesting question, isn’t it, Lord Crescent? Perhaps you can… help me find an answer?”

“Almost every major noble house was unhappy about Twilight Sparkle’s coronation,” the lord replied, his voice now a bit steadier, as if he had found some courage. “It could have been any one of them.”

Daybreaker raised an eyebrow, a dangerous smile tugging at her lips. “Any one of them, you say?” she repeated slowly. “Maybe I should just punish every major family,” she mused aloud, as if seriously considering the idea. “That would be effective, wouldn’t it? Somewhere in this web of traitors, I’d find the culprit. A small price to pay for security, don't you think? "

Lord Crescent swallowed hard, his gaze flickering anxiously around the room, but he forced himself to remain calm. “Your Majesty, I… I’m certain it isn’t necessary to make the innocent suffer for the acts of a few.” His voice was strained, a desperate attempt at reason.

Daybreaker let out a soft laugh, somewhere between amusement and contempt. “Innocent?” She shook her head slowly, her mane flickering like living flames. “But just a moment ago, you claimed that every noble house would be prepared to betray the Crown and murder one of its princesses.”

She stood up slowly and deliberately, her wings majestically outspread as she descended the steps of her throne and covered the short distance to the kneeling stallion. Her hoofsteps echoed through the eerie silence of the throne room.

“Perhaps…” Her voice dropped, as though sharing a secret. “Perhaps I should make an example of your house. It might give the others reason to think twice, wouldn’t you say?”

Lord Crescent seemed to shrink in on himself, lowering his head further, his voice growing distinctly shakier. “Your Majesty, I beg you. You know my house stands loyal to the Crown. We would never… never seek to harm you. Whoever orchestrated this attack wasn’t just dissatisfied with Princess Twilight’s coronation, but…” He trailed off.

“…but?” Daybreaker’s voice cut through the air like a knife. She stood right before him, her golden eyes ablaze as she stared down at his trembling form. “Please, Lord Crescent, go on. Now that you’ve started, don’t hold back. That would be… disappointing.”

The noble swallowed audibly, his eyes searching the room in a silent plea for escape. “Your Majesty… this attack…” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he seemed unable to continue. At last, he regained enough composure to speak, weak and trembling though it was. “Perhaps it was a mistake to crown Twilight Sparkle as a princess. It has greatly damaged your standing among the nobility. Perhaps this was a political statement… against this development…”

A loud, bone-rattling crack cut him off. Daybreaker had stomped a hoof on the marble so hard that it cracked into a web of deep fissures around her. The shockwave rippled through the room, making the torches on the walls flicker and casting the shadows of those present like dancing, living things. A collective gasp coursed through the guards and servants, but no one dared to move.

“A… mistake?” Daybreaker echoed, her voice so hushed it was barely a whisper. Her horn flared with golden magic, seizing the lord. Soot and burning embers rose from her nostrils, and her fiery mane flared like an unbridled inferno.

Her muzzle was only inches from his, the heat radiating from her scorching his skin. “You dare question my decisions, Crescent?” she hissed, each word as sharp as a blade.

With a violent flick of her horn, she flung him aside like a rag doll. He hit the ground with a thud that echoed through the hall, a pained groan escaping him. “You’re not even worth the dirt under my hooves!” she barked, her voice quivering with rage. “Your opinion and your reputation mean nothing to me!”

Lord Crescent tried to crawl away, but his shaking legs nearly gave out beneath him. His breath came in short, panicked gasps as he cowered under her scorching gaze. “Your Majesty, I only wanted to...”

“Silence!” Daybreaker’s voice thundered through the hall like an ominous storm cloud. The flames of her mane flared violently, and the floor beneath her seemed to tremble. “What interests me,” she went on, her tone dangerously soft, “is the insult to my dear Twilight.”

The stallion threw himself to the ground, pressing his forehead against the cracked marble. “Please, Your Majesty!” he begged, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean it like that! I beg you, forgive my careless words!”

A laugh escaped Daybreaker, cold and hollow, like the howl of a winter storm. It was a sound that made the blood freeze in everypony’s veins. “Careless?” She bent down toward him, her voice a venomous whisper. “I’ll show you what careless truly means.”

Twilight followed Glowing Shield through the castle’s sprawling corridors, her mind racing. She repeatedly worked through potential scenarios for the upcoming meeting with this mysterious Daybreaker. Would she find answers, or should she be on guard? At the same time, she sketched out possible escape routes in her head. If she really is a usurper, I’ll need a way to reach Ponyville and my friends, she thought.

Her strategic ponderings were abruptly interrupted when a loud bang echoed through the halls. The noise was deep and resonant, accompanied by a faint tremor under her hooves. Twilight came to a sudden stop, her ears twitching as she peered down the corridor in the direction of the sound.

“What was that?” she asked decisively, turning to Glowing Shield, who had also paused. But before the guard could answer, Twilight felt her muscles tense. Her instinctive curiosity and growing concern outweighed any remaining caution.

Without waiting for a response, she broke into a light gallop, her hooves clattering over the marble floor. The corridor’s walls magnified the echo of her steps as she ran toward the source of the noise, the throne room. Glowing Shield called after her, but she paid him no mind.

If something’s happening here, I have to see for myself, she thought. I won’t waste time if someone might need my help.

With every step, the heat in the air intensified, and Twilight could hear the faint crackle of flames drifting down the corridor. The doors to the throne room lay ahead. She paused for a moment, her breathing heavy, her heart hammering with resolve.

Taking a final deep breath, Twilight pushed the heavy doors open with a flourish, the loud crash of their impact echoing off the walls. The sight before her looked like a nightmare: A tall, snow-white Alicorn with a blazing mane and sharp teeth stood over the broken figure of a noble, whose body was still aflame.

Twilight wanted to say something, but before she could utter a single sound, someone else spoke first.

“Twilight?” said the strange Alicorn, her voice filled with surprise and was that shock?

Before Twilight could reply, the Alicorn’s horn flared with blinding light, robbing Twilight of her vision.

“What…?” Twilight stumbled back slightly, rubbing at her eyes. “What was that?”

Daybreaker stood frozen, her thoughts spinning. Oh no, oh no, oh no! She can’t see this! Especially not as the first thing after she’s woken up!

She glanced down at the still-burning noble beneath her and felt her nervousness blossom into full-blown panic. She hastily started stomping out the flames on his body with her hooves, as though putting out a particularly stubborn carpet fire.

“Ow! Ow! Ouch!” Lord Crescent whimpered beneath her frantic stamping, his voice echoing through the throne room.

“Be quiet!” Daybreaker hissed, still sounding uneasy, and it didn’t help.

“This isn’t working! What do I do now? What do I do now?” Her eyes flicked anxiously to Twilight, who was still rubbing her eyes. With a final, desperate sigh, Daybreaker’s horn glowed again, and in a bright flash, she teleported the whimpering noble out of the hall.

As the flames and racket vanished, she forced a big, though far from convincing, smile onto her face. “Twilight!” she exclaimed, her tone slightly too high-pitched as she turned in an exaggerated motion to face the still-blinking Alicorn. “I’m so glad you’re finally awake!”

Twilight was still rubbing her eyes, trying desperately to recover her sight. “What… was that just now?” she mumbled, blinking at the blurred outlines around her.

Daybreaker was sweating on the inside, but kept her smile plastered on. “Oh, nothing, nothing! Just… uh… a tiny… misunderstanding. All under control!”

Twilight stared at Daybreaker’s face. She would recognize those gentle features anywhere, even if they were surrounded by a blazing mane and glowing eyes. “Celestia?” she asked, confusion and disbelief evident in her voice.

Daybreaker cleared her throat and raised her chin slightly, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “It’s Daybreaker now, my dear. But yes, it’s me.”

Twilight frowned, one eyebrow arched doubtfully. “Was that just now… a burning noblepony?”

Daybreaker froze for a fraction of a second before wiping her forehead with a hoof. “A burning noblepony?” she echoed, her voice an octave too high. “Oh, no, I didn’t see anything like that.”

Twilight’s skeptical gaze didn’t waver, and Daybreaker couldn’t quite meet her eyes. Instead, she abruptly turned to one of the guards standing at the edge of the room, her mane flickering ominously. “How about you?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet but undeniably sharp.

The guard, a pale-gray Pegasus, flinched visibly before saluting hastily. “No, Your Majesty!” he blurted far too quickly and far too loudly.

Twilight’s gaze flicked between Daybreaker and the guard, then back again. Narrowing her eyes, she wore a wry smile. “Aha. Riiight… so…”

Daybreaker forced another wide grin, as nervous as ever. “You must’ve meant that old carpet that… uh… suddenly caught fire.”

Twilight slowly shook her head, her brow still furrowed. “A carpet, huh?” she asked, half convinced, half suspicious.

Daybreaker’s ears perked, her forced grin widening even more. “Yes, a carpet! Hideous thing, really. No big loss.” She waved a hoof dismissively. “But I’m sure you have more pressing questions than some old carpet, right?”

Twilight tilted her head, her eyes never leaving Daybreaker’s face. “More pressing questions, yes…” she murmured. “Like why I suddenly feel as though there’s a lot more going on than you’re telling me.”

Daybreaker’s smile went rigid, her mane flickering nervously, and for a moment it seemed as if the entire room was holding its breath. Before Twilight could ask another question, Glowing Shield suddenly appeared behind her, out of breath and looking both anxious and annoyed.

“Your Majesty,” he began, saluting shakily, “I’m sorry. She ran off when she heard a loud bang. I couldn’t stop her.”

Daybreaker slowly turned, fixing the guard with a piercing stare. Flames licked around her mane, and the temperature in the hall seemed to rise again. “R-ran off?” she repeated softly, her voice dangerously sweet.

Glowing Shield unconsciously took a step back, ears flat against his head as he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, Your Majesty… She was very determined. And… fast.”

Twilight turned toward him, a gentle smile forming on her lips despite her furrowed brow. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you trouble,” she said kindly, which clearly took Glowing Shield by surprise. “But now I’m here… so, thank you.”

Glowing Shield blinked, unsure how to respond to such sudden courtesy. “Uh… of course, Your Highness,” he stammered, saluting hastily.

Daybreaker let out a short, tense laugh that rang out sharply in the hall’s silence. “Glowing Shield, your… zeal is appreciated,” she said in a syrupy tone, though her eyes never left him. “But you can go now. I can take care of Twilight myself.”

The guard saluted again, faster this time, and quickly turned. His steps were almost a gallop as he headed for safety, and the heavy throne room doors slammed shut behind him with a reverberating thud.

Twilight watched him for a moment longer, then slowly turned back to Daybreaker. “That was interesting,” she said dryly.

“Wasn’t it?” Daybreaker smiled again, her stance seemingly relaxed, though a perceptive eye would have noticed the tension in her shoulders. “But now… where were we?”

Author's Note

Since the prologue was so well received, I tried to get the first chapter ready for you as quickly as possible. I hope you like what I've written here. Let me know your thoughts and opinions.

Have a happy new year