Twilight stared at Daybreaker for a moment, feeling that something about her was… off. It wasn’t the blazing mane or the imposing armor, though both were certainly unsettling. No, it was something deeper. It lay in the way Daybreaker smiled. That far-too-broad grin, so deliberately innocent. Combined with the friendly gleam in her draconic eyes, it felt downright surreal.

“You were about to answer some of my questions,” Twilight began, her tone dry and her gaze as serious as she could manage, “like… why you’re calling yourself Daybreaker now. Or why the guard introduced you as a Queen. Or what’s going on with the flaming mane and the new regalia.”

Daybreaker let out a soft, melodic laugh and tilted her head slightly. “Do you like it?” she asked, her voice dripping with feigned innocence as she rose onto the tips of her hooves and struck an exaggerated catwalk pose.

Twilight rolled her eyes, her deadpan stare showing no amusement whatsoever. “You’re not seriously trying to tell me this is all just a… makeover, are you?”

“Well,” Daybreaker said, pressing a hoof to her chin, “you should have seen me trying to get this hairstyle under control. Believe me, Twilight, magical fire is an absolute nightmare.”

Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but the words got stuck. Magical fire. Of course. She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

“Well, I’d love to see how you’d handle waking up with a mane of flames,” Daybreaker retorted in a mock-offended tone. Her fiery mane flickered irritably as she noticed Twilight’s exasperated expression. Then she sighed, exhaling sharply. “Fine. You really don’t have a sense of humor, Twilight.”

Without further remark, Daybreaker walked past her, her hoofsteps echoing in the lofty, chilly silence of the corridor. “Come,” she said, throwing a fleeting glance over her shoulder. “I’ll show you around and explain everything.”

Twilight watched her for a few more seconds before shaking off her hesitation with a sigh. Her mind caught up with her, and she trotted after Daybreaker, quickening her pace to close the distance between them.

“So? What exactly happened here?” Twilight asked, nodding toward the new décor lining the hallway. Golden reliefs depicting flames and suns stretched along the walls, and the heavy drapes gleamed a deep red that almost looked like blood. “It’s all so… showy. Like Blueblood took over the interior design.”

Daybreaker stopped, turning around slowly, regarding Twilight with a mix of mock hurt and amusement. “Wow. Of all the insulting things you could have said, you chose undoubtedly the most hurtful,” she said with a playful grin.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Well, you did say I don’t get jokes,” she replied dryly.

Daybreaker shook her head and let out a melodic laugh as she resumed walking. “Touché, Twilight. Touché.”

Twilight kept following but remained on guard. “Seriously, though. Why all this? You realize these decorations come off more intimidating than impressive, right?”

Daybreaker paused for a moment, studying the golden walls and the glowing red carpet before answering with a shrug, “Intimidation is just a word, Twilight. Strength is a promise. And strength is what Equestria needs right now.”

Twilight frowned, but before she could say anything, Daybreaker held up a hoof to silence her. “I’ll explain everything, Twilight. One thing at a time.” Her voice was calm, almost gentle, but there was an undeniable tension beneath it.

“You see,” Daybreaker began after a short pause, “at your coronation banquet, there was an attempt on your life.” She said the words with an ominous clarity that sent a shiver through Twilight. “Someone,” she continued, her voice turning venomous, “poisoned the wine served to you.”

The flames of her mane flared briefly, a sign of her barely contained rage. Twilight blinked and involuntarily took a step back. “Poisoned?” she echoed quietly, trying to grasp the implications. Her heart began to pound faster.

Daybreaker nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on Twilight. “Yes, poisoned. You have no idea how it felt, Twilight, seeing you lying there like that…” She paused, her voice faltering for a second before she found it again. “I was beside myself with grief and fury. I was ready to turn the one responsible to ash on the spot.” She sighed. “However, the true culprit remains unknown.”

“Well,” Twilight began thoughtfully, “I remember that the waiter who gave me the wine was wearing House Blueblood’s crest. That much I recall.” Her voice was calm, though strained with tension.

Daybreaker turned slowly to Twilight, an unexpectedly mild smile on her lips. “As much as I’d love a reason to throw Blueblood in chains, Twilight, he’s innocent as far as I know.” She sounded almost disappointed, as though she had considered the idea briefly before dismissing it. “At least, he’s no guiltier than the other noble families.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at that last comment. Daybreaker continued, “Turns out, the wine meant for you was stolen a few days before the banquet by an unknown intruder. Also,” she added as she walked on, “we found that waiter’s jacket, torn to shreds in an alley. And nopony in Blueblood’s entourage ever met anyone matching the waiter’s description.”

Twilight frowned. “Well, they could be lying.”

Daybreaker stopped and gave her a long, piercing look. Her eyes, gleaming like molten gold, suddenly felt cold despite the flames surrounding her. “Trust me, Twilight,” she said in a tone that made Twilight’s skin prickle, “those ponies weren’t lying. You can be certain of that.”

Twilight swallowed hard and slowly nodded, unsure why Daybreaker’s words unnerved her so much, whether it was her tone, her phrasing, or the unspoken threat beneath it. “I see…” she said uneasily.

Suddenly, Daybreaker’s expression changed. The oppressive tension vanished, replaced by a friendly smile that did nothing to put Twilight at ease. “Good,” she said brightly, as though nothing had happened. “Now, where was I…” She tapped her chin with a hoof, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling in thought. “Ah, yes.”

Her eyes sparkled as she went on, “Anyway, the attempt on your life had greater consequences than you may realize. You’re an alicorn now, Twilight. A princess. A force of nature. Sacred.” Her tone grew solemn. “This was a direct attack on the Crown, no, on our entire form of government. Something like this hasn’t happened for more than a thousand years.”

Twilight felt her stomach tighten, but she did not dare interrupt.

“The ponies were unsettled,” Daybreaker continued, her voice echoing softly off the walls as they walked on. “If something like that could happen to an alicorn in the middle of a public event, who was safe at all? The nobility, useless as ever, wasted time blaming each other for the crime instead of doing anything to calm the rising panic.”

Daybreaker stopped and turned to Twilight. Her eyes looked almost gentle, but her words were anything but. “Ponies began losing faith in our government. Rumors spread that the nobles took you out because I could no longer keep the great families under control.” She let the silence hang for a moment to emphasize her point.

Twilight swallowed. “And that led to…?”

Daybreaker sighed, her mane flickering restlessly. “It took less than two weeks before conflicts began to break out between the supporters of various noble families and my loyalists. Some nobles saw it as an opportunity to expand their power.” She lifted her chin, regal and firm. “I can still picture their smug grins when they proposed giving the Council of Nobles more authority to appease their followers,” she spat bitterly. “Meanwhile, many ponies started to question my ability to rule. How can I protect a country, Twilight, if I can’t even protect those closest to me?”

Twilight held her breath. Daybreaker paused briefly, then went on. “It wasn’t just an attack on you. It was an attack on everything I stand for, an attack on the legitimacy of my reign.”

Twilight blinked, perplexed. “I never imagined it would take so little for ponies to lose faith in you.”

Daybreaker snorted dismissively and started walking again. “Fear is powerful, Twilight. More powerful than trust, experience, or reason,” she said, her voice brimming with bitterness, but also conviction. Leading Twilight to a large, imposing painting that covered nearly the entire wall, Daybreaker stopped in front of it.

The artwork depicted an army of golden warrior-ponies, their armor gleaming under a stylized sun. They marched in perfect formation across rolling hills, their sun banners held high, their faces filled with fierce determination. Twilight studied it with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Daybreaker pointed to the painting. “I had to keep Equestria together,” she said, her voice calm yet resolute. “I had to ensure security and stability in the government. So my first step was to dissolve the Council of Nobles and strip the noble families of their political power. It was necessary, to restore stability and show that the nobility holds no power over me.”

Twilight stared at Daybreaker, eyes wide. She didn’t care much for the nobility, most of them were pompous airheads who cared more about influence than the good of the nation. Still, overturning a thousand-year-old government structure was no small matter.

“And then?” she asked softly, her voice hesitant.

Daybreaker closed her eyes briefly, as though weighing her next words. “Next, I increased the Royal Guard’s presence. I called more guards into active service and expanded our military ranks. Something had to be done, Twilight. Ponies needed to feel safe again. They needed to see that I could protect them. That I was taking action.”

Twilight studied Daybreaker as she spoke. It was hard to tell whether what she heard was more conviction or a hint of underlying uncertainty.

“And that worked?” she finally asked, keeping her tone neutral, almost cautious.

Daybreaker turned slowly to face her, flames flickering as though in response to the question. “It worked, Twilight. Ponies took heart again. They know now that Equestria has strong leadership.” Her voice carried growing intensity, and a note of pride. “I reunited the ponies of Equestria, encouraged them to stick together, restored harmony, and gave them something to believe in.”

“Something to believe in?” Twilight repeated softly, casting her gaze toward the painting.

Daybreaker nodded, her eyes shining as she regarded the artwork. “Yes. Do you see this painting? It’s a tribute to the unity I seek. If we all work together, Twilight, there’s no goal too distant and no threat too great. Our ponies need to feel strong again.”

Twilight let her eyes roam across the painting. The golden warriors with their raised weapons and determined, almost angry, expressions seemed anything but harmonious. She could practically feel the tension in their faces, the urge to fight something, or prove themselves. “Unity… sure,” she murmured, sounding anything but convinced.

Daybreaker turned to her, eyes keen. Before she could speak, Twilight asked the question that had been on her mind for a while. “You talk all the time about the things you’ve done. What about Luna?”

For a moment, Daybreaker’s expression was unreadable. Then she rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated snort. “My sister didn’t approve of the path I took,” she said, her tone colored by both resignation and annoyance. “She couldn’t understand that I had to leave behind the gentle princess routine and take a more active role. Be closer to my ponies.”

Twilight frowned. “So what did she do?”

Daybreaker shrugged as though it were nothing. “She eventually left for the Crystal Empire. She wanted… distance.”

“And your new appearance, the name, your title?” Twilight asked hesitantly.

Daybreaker stood up and took a few steps further, then threw Twilight an impish glance over her shoulder before moving on again. Twilight watched as Daybreaker gave a little shake of her flank, a playful chuckle rumbling in her throat. “Come on, Twilight. I can see you’re enjoying the view, but there’s still so much I want to show you.”

Twilight felt her face grow hot. “What?” she stammered, her voice a bit too high. “I… I wasn’t… I wasn’t looking…”

“Of course not,” Daybreaker cut her off with a smirk. “I’d believe you, if your adorably flushed cheeks weren’t telling me otherwise.”

Twilight snorted and hurried to catch up, cheeks still burning. “At least your sense of humor hasn’t changed… nor your terrible timing for jokes.”

Daybreaker rolled her eyes theatrically, her mane flaring slightly. “My jokes are always impeccably timed, my dear. You’re simply too stiff for your own good. I’d reprimand you… if it weren’t so cute.”

Twilight almost tripped, feeling her face grow even warmer. “Could we please get back on topic?” she managed at last.

Daybreaker let out a melodic laugh and kept walking. “Of course, of course,” she said eventually. “My new name and title are merely symbols of a new era. I am no longer Princess Celestia, who let the nobility walk all over her and lost her subjects’ trust because she spent all day eating cake instead of helping her little ponies.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

Daybreaker grinned broadly. “No, my dear, though you can still call me that if you like. But now I’m Queen Daybreaker, highest ruler, judge, and enforcer.” She lifted a hoof dramatically, striking a pose as if she were an ancient statue.

At the word “enforcer,” Twilight flinched, her eyes darting uneasily to Daybreaker’s blazing mane, which suddenly seemed to flare brighter.

Noticing Twilight’s reaction, Daybreaker smiled wryly. “Oh, don’t be like that. I still enjoy cake, you know.” She winked at Twilight, then led her through a grand, ornately decorated doorway.

Beyond lay the palace’s dining hall. A long table draped in pristine white cloth stretched the length of the room, whose walls were adorned with gold trim and flame motifs. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling. “Speaking of cake, I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely starving.”

“Well, for my part, I’d rather keep talking about your new regime, if you don’t mind,” Twilight said, cautious but firm, taking a seat on the far side of the long table and watching Daybreaker intently. “For instance, what about my friends? Thinking about it, they surely would have stepped up as the Elements of Harmony during times like these. Especially if the ponies were as divided as you say.”

Daybreaker sighed quietly, leaning back in her chair with a look of discomfort. “There’s no easy way to say this.” She paused, meeting Twilight’s eyes. “Your friends ended up just as divided as the rest of Equestria.”

Twilight’s eyes widened in shock. “My friends… What happened?” Her voice sounded thin, barely above a whisper.

Daybreaker sighed again, more heavily this time, letting her gaze wander over the table as though searching for the right words. “It’s not as bad as you might think,” she began slowly. “When the unrest started, all five of them tried to calm everypony down. They set an example, just as I expected from them.”

Twilight held her breath as Daybreaker continued. “But their efforts fell on deaf ears. It didn’t help that the attack singled you out, you, the leader of the Element Bearers. Ponies saw it as a sign that the old order had failed.”

Daybreaker paused briefly, then went on. “Only when I established my new rule did your friends start to differ in their opinions. Applejack and Rainbow Dash were relieved to see me handling the situation. They approved of my measures.”

Twilight swallowed hard. “And the others?” she asked softly, resting her forehooves on the table.

Daybreaker sighed, her expression gentler now. “Rarity and Pinkie Pie found my new rules too extreme. They felt it was too restrictive. Along with Luna, they decided to leave Equestria and move to the Crystal Empire.”

Twilight looked down, as if the words weighed heavily on her. “And Fluttershy?”

“Fluttershy stayed in Ponyville,” Daybreaker said, giving Twilight a gentle smile. “Along with Applejack and Rainbow Dash.” She hesitated, then added, “But it could be worse. Even if your friends went their separate ways, their friendship hasn’t been destroyed by all this.”

Twilight gazed up at the ceiling, lost in thought. I have to talk to my friends. Hear their side of the story. Only then can I figure out what’s really going on. Daybreaker isn’t telling me everything, and she was awfully vague about their disagreements. But I don’t want to push her too far or she might stop answering my questions altogether.

A soft tapping on the marble floor pulled her from her thoughts. A pony in a perfectly pressed butler’s uniform approached the table, moving with fluid precision. He carried a silver tray holding two steaming cups.

“Your Majesty,” said the butler with a deep nod toward Daybreaker before turning to Twilight. “Princess Sparkle.”

Twilight blinked, then gave an awkward nod. “Uh, thank you.”

The butler set the cups gently on the table. “A special herbal tea to help you relax. I hope it meets with your approval.”

“How thoughtful,” Daybreaker said with an amused smile, lifting her cup. She turned it slightly in her magical grasp, causing the liquid inside to shimmer like molten gold. “You’ll see, Twilight, here they’ll anticipate your every wish.”

Twilight reached for her own cup, though her thoughts were still elsewhere. The steam rose in gentle spirals, but instead of taking a sip, she just stared at the cup, wide-eyed.

Daybreaker took a sip of her own tea and let the warmth linger briefly, then noticed Twilight’s reluctance. “Something wrong, Twilight?” she asked, a mix of curiosity and faint concern in her tone.

Twilight jumped slightly, then shook her head. “Oh, no. It’s nothing… I just,” she began, then paused, searching for the right words. “I’m probably worrying over nothing, but the last time a butler showed up unannounced with a drink for me… well.”

A shadow flickered across Daybreaker’s face, and for an instant she looked guilty. She lowered her cup back onto the table and fixed Twilight with an expression free of her usual playful superiority. “Twilight… I’m sorry. I wanted to treat you to a relaxing visit to the dining hall, not scare you.” Her voice was quiet, almost gentle, and her flames seemed muted for that moment.

Twilight gave her a long look before managing a small smile. “It’s not your fault. I’m just… not quite myself yet.”

Daybreaker nodded understandingly. “That’s fine. It’ll take time. But you’re safe here, Twilight. With me.” Her voice was soothing, almost pleading. She lifted her cup again, her eyes not leaving Twilight’s. “You have to believe me.”

She took another sip but didn’t break eye contact. Then, with a curt gesture, she called the butler back toward her and Twilight. “You,” she said sharply, pointing a hoof at him. Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. “Taste it.”

With a soft hum of magic, she lifted a tiny droplet of Twilight’s steaming tea into the air, letting it hover in front of the butler’s muzzle.

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” said the butler with practiced calm, lowering his head slightly. He opened his mouth and allowed the droplet to settle on his tongue.

Twilight held her breath, watching the scene with taut nerves. For a moment, it felt as if the walls were closing in, each breath too loud by a fraction. But the butler remained serene and still until Daybreaker finally announced, with a satisfied smile, “Very good.”

Twilight exhaled in relief, and Daybreaker settled back into her chair. “Bring me and Lady Twilight a slice of red velvet cake, then you’re dismissed.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” the butler repeated, bowing lightly before turning to leave with measured, graceful steps. The door closed softly behind him.

Daybreaker turned her gaze on Twilight, smiling knowingly. “Satisfied?” she asked, her tone once again playful.

Twilight couldn’t help but return a small smile. “That was… thorough.”

Daybreaker laughed quietly, lifting her cup again. “If you think I take my ponies’ trust lightly, Twilight, then you don’t know me at all.”

Twilight raised her own cup to her lips, taking a small sip and feeling the gentle, soothing warmth ease some of her tension, if only for a moment. The thought lingering in her mind caused her to set the cup down gently. “I’ve been thinking. I’d like to visit my friends.”

Daybreaker nodded, her smile almost warm. “Of course. It shouldn’t be a problem for you to see your friends in Ponyville.”

“All of my friends,” Twilight interjected, cutting Daybreaker off, her voice calm but insistent.

Daybreaker’s eyebrow arched, her smile fading. “Out of the question. The Crystal Empire is far away and has isolated itself from Equestria entirely. They’ve severed all cooperation with us.”

Twilight managed a faint smile, pleased with the small revelation. At least now I know what Cadance and Shining Armor think about her new way of ruling. She leaned forward slightly. “I’ve been to the Crystal Empire before, and it’s ruled by my brother and sister-in-law. I’ll be safe there.”

Daybreaker snorted softly, shaking her head. “No. The train route is gone. You’d have to travel on hoof through the icy north, crossing the no-pony’s-land between Equestria and the Empire. Lawless rogues dwell there. I won’t allow it.”

Twilight felt her pulse quicken. She stared back at Daybreaker. “You say that like I can’t defend myself.”

“Because you can’t,” Daybreaker replied without hesitation. Her voice was unwavering, almost hard. “When you became an alicorn, your body and your magic changed. In a sense, you’re a child all over again. And until you’ve learned to control your new magic, I forbid you from even thinking about the Crystal Empire.”

Twilight drew a deep breath, her mind racing. She knew Daybreaker had a point, but the idea of staying put while her friends were scattered elsewhere felt so wrong. She opened her mouth to argue, but Daybreaker abruptly stood up, her mane blazing ominously.

“I understand you’re worried about your friends, Twilight. But I won’t put you in danger just because you’re too stubborn to listen,” she said, calm yet edged with finality.

Twilight’s hooves clenched under the table. This won’t be the end of this conversation, she thought, meeting Daybreaker’s eyes without blinking.

“But if you’re so eager to see your friends,” Daybreaker said with a sharp smile, “we can start your training tomorrow.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, eyeing Daybreaker warily. “What kind of training?”

The day wore on, and Twilight felt fatigue creeping into her limbs. It was hard to believe it had been just one day, one day full of revelations that had rocked her world. Daybreaker led her back to the room in which she had awakened that morning and held the door open with a gentle spell.

“Well, here we are,” Daybreaker said with a trace of satisfaction in her voice. “Your room.”

Twilight stepped inside and collapsed onto the bed with a weary sigh. “Indeed,” she murmured, letting her gaze wander over the walls. She recalled the protective spells and found a small smile on her lips. “And… thank you.”

Daybreaker was about to head out when her left ear twitched. She stopped, turned back around, and looked at Twilight with mild surprise. “What did you just say?”

Twilight lifted her head to meet her eyes, a mischievous twinkle there. “I said thank you, you glowing fool.”

Daybreaker arched an eyebrow, an amused grin tugging at her lips. “Thank me for what?”

Twilight’s smile was genuine, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “For looking out for me.”

Daybreaker smiled back, mischief shining in her eyes. “You know, if you really want me to look out for you, this bed is big enough for two…”

A pillow flew through the air, hitting Daybreaker square in the face before she could finish. “Okay, okay, I get it,” she laughed, lifting her hooves in surrender. “I’m leaving already.” She shut the door behind her, leaving Twilight alone.

Twilight let herself sink back into the soft pillows and pulled the blanket over herself. “This bed’s comfortable, but…” she murmured, running a foreleg over the other, “it’s a bit cold. A thicker comforter wouldn’t hurt.” With that thought, she closed her eyes, letting sleep finally overtake her.

The next morning, Twilight awoke feeling wonderfully warm. She blinked drowsily and nudged the thick down comforter upward with her left hoof to burrow deeper into its soft feathers. The warmth enveloped her like a soothing embrace, and for a moment, she let herself simply drift.

Then a thought stirred in her half-asleep mind. Something was wrong. She was certain that last night she definitely didn’t have a thick, warm down comforter.

A faint murmur slipped from her lips as she slowly opened one eye. Her gaze fell on something large and white, and moving. A wing.

Twilight froze, her heart skipping a beat before hammering against her chest. She stared at the flawless white wing rising and falling ever so slightly, moving in time with its owner’s breath.

Author's Note

I know that was a lot of dialog and exposition. But next time there will be more action and drama. I hope you enjoyed it anyway.