Daybreaker stood on her balcony, gazing into the distance. From here, she could see beyond Equestria’s vast expanse, all the way to Ponyville and beyond. The golden light of the setting sun bathed the land in warm hues, the sky aflame with vivid colors. A gentle melancholy hung in the air, carried on a soft summer breeze that tugged at her mane like a reminder of days long gone.

Her thoughts drifted back to the events of the past two weeks. Twilight had finally awakened. And though Daybreaker had witnessed countless sunrises, none had ever felt as radiant as the moment she could once again wrap her hooves around her fellow princess. They had spent a great deal of time together, training sessions, endless conversations, and brief moments of peace in which Daybreaker could almost forget how fragile this new harmony really was. A slight smile formed on her lips. Yet despite all their closeness, there remained a distance. An invisible wall that Twilight built with each smile and each question about the past.

Daybreaker wasn’t an idiot. She knew perfectly well that her former student didn’t fully trust her, and no overt display of affection would change that. Twilight was too smart, too cautious. The sweeping changes had unsettled her, and this new Equestria still felt like a foreign land shifting beneath her hooves. All Daybreaker could do was hope Twilight would begin to settle in soon. The court sessions, which Daybreaker regularly took Twilight to, at least seemed to help a little.

Yet Twilight’s mistrust didn’t alter one important fact, how wonderful it felt to have her at her side again. No one could deny that Twilight herself enjoyed their time together, even if she’d never admit it. Daybreaker saw it in the small gestures, in moments when Twilight’s resistance cracked, involuntary smirks here and there, a suppressed laugh, a playful remark, or even a rare little purr in the morning.

Otherwise, things were moving forward as well. Twilight was making breathtaking strides in her magic training, though it surprised no one. She was the Element of Magic, after all. The discipline, the determination, the relentless pursuit of perfection with which Twilight tackled every lesson, it was something to behold. The first thing Twilight had to master was modulation. Every unicorn learned instinctively from a young age how to modulate magic; it was as natural as breathing. But with her ascension to alicornhood, that once-automatic ability had vanished. A tiny bit too much power, and a simple telekinesis spell could become lethal. What once was a gentle grip could now snap bones, tear organs, snuff out lives.

The raw power coursing through her left no margin for even the smallest slip. Every spell was like dancing on the edge of a knife, a constant balancing act between control and destruction. So far, Twilight could reliably use about twenty percent of her full strength. Anything beyond that still posed problems, though she was working hard to overcome them. Daybreaker felt certain: It was only a matter of time, maybe a few months, until Twilight mastered the entirety of her magic. Completely, precisely, perfectly.

What truly gave her trouble was Twilight’s constant urging to see her friends again. Daybreaker’s face darkened.

“Why can’t it just be easier?” she murmured, her voice barely more than a raspy whisper. “The Element Bearers… they’re good ponies. I’m glad Twilight made friends like them, but…”

Her gaze grew stony as she stared past the balcony’s balustrade into the distance.

“They’re blind. Just as blind as the rest of Equestria. They don’t understand. They can’t see the bigger picture. They have no idea how fragile the peace they take for granted truly is.”

With a quiet scrape, Daybreaker rose from her seat and walked slowly over to the balustrade. Her gaze swept across the endless plains, as though by her mere presence she could banish every uncertainty.

“They are not the ponies who should be guiding Twilight through this world. Not the ones she should trust about such things.” Her voice hardened, a hint of anger in her words.

She let out a soft snort. “At least a part of them had the necessary foresight to accept the inevitable changes.” Her lips curled into a satisfied smile. “And perhaps… they’re smart enough to help strengthen Twilight’s trust in me.” She laughed quietly as a plan began taking shape in her mind, a plan that would lead Twilight exactly where Daybreaker wanted her. And in the end, Twilight would finally take her rightful place by Daybreaker’s side.

Twilight and Daybreaker sat in a golden chariot, pulled by four armored pegasi, en route to Ponyville. It had taken weeks, but Twilight had finally convinced Daybreaker to let her leave the castle, at least so she could see her friends in Ponyville.

Twilight could barely contain her excitement. She paced nervously in the cramped space of the chariot, her heart pounding with anticipation. A broad grin played on her face as she repeatedly tried to peer over the chariot’s edge, hoping to spot some first glimpse of the little town.

“Are we there yet?” she asked for the umpteenth time, her tail twitching with impatience.

Daybreaker, composed as ever, sat almost regally at Twilight’s side, barely reacting to her fidgeting. “Twilight,” she said, amusement evident in her voice, “you’ll see soon enough.” She let out a soft chuckle. “Sometimes, you still act like a little filly.”

Twilight abruptly stopped mid-pace, glaring at Daybreaker in what was supposed to be outrage, but she couldn’t entirely hide the joy dancing in her eyes. “For your information,” she retorted, raising a hoof in protest, “there’s absolutely nothing wrong with showing one’s excitement publicly. In fact, multiple reproducible studies on the subj...”

“Have shown that you’re adorable when you launch into your little lectures. I know, Twilight,” Daybreaker interjected, flashing a roguish grin.

Twilight huffed, crossing her forelegs and turning slightly away, a faint pink tinge blooming on her cheeks. “I am not adorable.”

Daybreaker laughed softly. “Of course you’re not, Twi Twi.”

Twilight made a face, poised to fire back, when suddenly the chariot broke through the cloud cover. The golden edges of the vehicle caught the sunlight as it swooped gracefully toward Sweet Apple Acres.

Daybreaker let her gaze drift across the orchard below, smirking. “Looks like you won’t have to wait much longer. Good thing, too... I was afraid you might explode if this kept up.”

Twilight snorted and pressed herself eagerly against the chariot’s side, her eyes lighting up as she recognized the familiar fields and buildings of Ponyville. The chariot touched down gently on the damp ground, sliding about fifteen meters through the muck before coming to a stop. A slight shudder ran through the frame as its golden wheels sank into the earth.

With practiced skill, the pegasus guards unlatched themselves from their harnesses and marched in precise formation to the front of the chariot. Their armor clinked softly with each step before they lined up perfectly and saluted.

“Your Majesty,” one of them declared in a serious tone. “We have arrived safely.”

Daybreaker returned the salute with a curt nod, her fiery mane flickering behind her. “Very good.”

Twilight could barely hold back her excitement, nearly bouncing in true Pinkie Pie fashion off the chariot. But a sharp, serious sidelong glance from Daybreaker made her pause, a silent reminder that she was a princess and should act accordingly.

Awkwardly clearing her throat, she stood straighter, trying to maintain a dignified stance. “Yes… excellent, gentlecolts. Shall we make our way to the farmhouse?” She forced a small smile that revealed more uncertainty than royal authority.

The guards broke their salute in perfect unison. “By your command, Your Highness.”

And so the small group set off. Daybreaker and Twilight walked side by side, while the heavily armed guards marched before and behind them with military precision. The sound of hooves on the damp ground mingled with the soft squeak of metal.

Daybreaker glanced at Twilight, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. Twilight held her head high, but the slight tremble in her hooves betrayed her impatience. She could hardly wait to see her friends again.

A few steps from the Apple family’s large red farmhouse, the group halted. Daybreaker raised a hoof, and at once the guards stopped.

“Twilight,” she began, her tone surprisingly gentle, “it might be best if you go up to the door alone and knock. I’m sure you want your reunion to be… personal.”

Twilight blinked in surprise, looking up at Daybreaker. Had she really just said that? After all the debates and discussions, after insisting on accompanying Twilight in the first place, she was now granting her this space? Twilight searched Daybreaker’s eyes for hidden motives but found only a strange mixture of anticipation and pleasure.

“Thank you,” she whispered, genuine gratitude in her voice. Then she scurried toward the door, her heart hammering in her chest.

The farmhouse looked just as she remembered. The familiar scent of applewood and fresh earth hung in the air, the shutters creaked gently in the wind, and the faint clatter of dishes drifted out from the kitchen. For just a moment, it felt as though nothing had changed, as though she’d never left.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door and waited.

“Just a second!” a familiar voice called from inside. Hoofsteps approached, muffled by the old wooden floor. Slowly, the door opened, and Applejack stepped into the light, smiling warmly.

“Howdy, how can I hel...” Her words died in her throat when she recognized Twilight. Her green eyes went wide as saucers, and her jaw dropped slightly. “Twilight?” she asked incredulously, as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Twilight grinned nervously, taking a hesitant step forward. “Hey, Applejack, I hope you don’t mind that I...”

She got no further, because Applejack promptly lunged forward and pulled her into a tight hug. Twilight gasped in surprise, but immediately felt the warmth and familiarity of the strong hooves around her.

“By Celestia… I thought I’d never see you again,” Applejack murmured, her voice quivering as she clung even tighter to Twilight. A single tear escaped her eye and fell silently to the ground. “I gotta get the others. They’ll wanna see you too,” she added, her words muffled by the hug.

“That won’t be necessary,” a cocky, well-known voice came from above. “I saw the chariot coming and flew off to let Flutters know.” A gust of wind swept over the yard as Rainbow Dash landed in a smooth spiral. Before Twilight could react, Rainbow had her in a playful headlock.

“Welcome back, Egghead,” Rainbow said, grinning, while ruffling Twilight’s mane. Twilight let out a surprised laugh, struggling to wriggle free. “Rainbow!” she wheezed in between giggles. “Let me at least say hi first!”

Applejack shook her head in amusement. “Rainbow Dash, give her some space. She’s come a long way.”

“Psh, she doesn’t look that tired,” Rainbow countered, finally letting Twilight go, the mischievous grin never leaving her face.

Suddenly, Twilight felt a second, much gentler embrace from behind. A soft sob reached her ears as Fluttershy clung tightly to her.

“Twilight… you’re alright,” Fluttershy cried, her voice muffled against Twilight’s coat. Her trembling hooves gripped Twilight as though she might vanish again any second. Twilight felt the warmth of Fluttershy’s tears on her shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak, but Fluttershy continued, “Oh, it was so horrible… The banquet… and then they said you were gone, and we weren’t allowed to see you. I didn’t know what to do.” Her voice caught, followed by another quiet sob. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Twilight’s heart clenched as she carefully turned to embrace the trembling pegasus. “I’m sorry, Fluttershy… I’m here. I’m here.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but it seemed to be enough. Fluttershy inhaled shakily, clinging just a little tighter.

“How touching,” came Daybreaker’s sardonic commentary.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash turned in unison to face her, their expressions a mix of anger and suspicion. Applejack’s lips pressed into a thin line, and Rainbow flared her wings slightly, an instinctive sign of readiness. Daybreaker appeared unruffled by their reaction. The faint smile on her face remained as she took a slow step toward them. “What? It is touching,” she repeated, her tone feigning innocence, her gaze briefly flicking to Fluttershy, who shyly ducked behind Twilight.

“I’m sure you all have plenty of catching up to do,” she went on, letting her eyes wander over the gathered ponies. “How about we continue this inside? Perhaps with a cup of tea and a slice of apple pie?”

Twilight swallowed hard. The atmosphere had definitely changed, but she forced a small smile. “That… that sounds like a good idea, right?” She looked at Applejack, who responded with a curt nod, though she refused to take her eyes off Daybreaker.

And so the group, two pegasi, an earth pony, and two alicorns, slowly made their way into the cozy farmhouse. The heavy wooden door swung open with a soft creak, and the familiar aroma of freshly baked apple pie greeted Twilight.

The guards understood their unspoken orders at once. Without a word, they positioned themselves like statues by the entrance, steel-shod hooves firmly planted on the ground. Their gazes swept back and forth alertly, as though any slight movement could be a threat.

“Well…” Twilight began nervously, sinking into the corner of the large green couch. Her hooves fidgeted against the fabric as she cast a hesitant look around. “How… how are you all doing? You know… since I’ve been gone?”

A tense silence hung in the air. The only sound was the quiet clink of china as Applejack returned from the kitchen, balancing five steaming mugs on her back. She placed them in practiced motions before each pony.

“Well… after the conflicts quieted down, everything went… quieter,” she said at last, her voice calm but tinged with uncertainty.

Rainbow Dash, leaning against the wall, folded her forelegs and sighed. “Ponyville isn’t what it used to be. There’s…” Her eyes darted briefly to Daybreaker, who stood expressionless near the fireplace. “…a different atmosphere.”

Fluttershy, sitting close to Twilight, lowered her gaze to her cup. “We were so worried,” she whispered, barely audible. “We weren’t even allowed to…” She trailed off, uncertain if she should continue.

Twilight could feel the tension in the room like a weight pressing down. She bit her lip, looking at each friend in turn. “Were there any problems? I mean… besides the obvious?”

Applejack took a deep breath, settling into a well-worn rocking chair in the corner and pulling her hat low over her eyes, as though hiding behind it. “No, no problems. Everything’s runnin’ as usual.” Her voice sounded forcedly casual. “Mac an’ I had to work a bit harder, but that’s about it.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash chimed in, leaning further against the wall. “We’ve been a bit understaffed on the weather team since so many workers...”

A soft throat-clearing interrupted her. Daybreaker had just set her teacup down, eyeing Rainbow coolly.

“...decided to change careers,” Rainbow quickly finished, flaring her wings slightly before focusing on her tea.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Changed careers?” she asked calmly, though a pang of unease bloomed inside. “Why did so many ponies suddenly leave the weather team? Did something happen?”

Rainbow shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Not really. Lots of pegasi just wanted to look for new jobs.” She let out a nervous laugh. “New challenges and whatnot.”

Twilight wasn’t fooled. Her friends were holding something back. They seemed far too nervous and guarded. Something was wrong. She could sense it in the way Applejack fiddled with her cup, or Fluttershy avoided eye contact.

She felt her mind racing. No doubt it’s Daybreaker’s presence making them so uneasy. Slowly, she turned her gaze to Applejack.

“And what about our other friends?” she finally asked, keeping her voice steady. “I heard they went to the Crystal Empire. Why?”

Applejack tensed, glancing away from Twilight. “Well, sugarcube…” She picked up her mug, spinning it absently in her hooves before continuing. “A lotta ponies are headin’ for the Crystal Empire. It’s… er…”

Her eyes darted around the room, seeming to look for support, but Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy remained silent. At last, Applejack muttered, “…they’ve got more freedoms there.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Freedoms?”

Applejack gave a slow nod, forcing a smile. “Yup. More… business opportunities, y’know. New land, new chances. That’s how it is.”

Twilight felt her stomach clench. That’s not the full story. Not even close.

She tilted her head, scrutinizing Applejack. “So Pinkie Pie and Rarity moved to the Crystal Empire for… business opportunities?” She let the question hang before letting out a humorless snort. “Well, maybe that fits Rarity, but Pinkie Pie?”

Fluttershy let out a tiny squeak, sipping her tea nervously. “S-she didn’t want Rarity to go alone,” she added hastily, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Twilight’s gaze drifted between her friends. Applejack refused to meet her eyes, Rainbow Dash was scratching the back of her neck, and Fluttershy seemed ready to vanish into her teacup.

“I see,” Twilight said dryly. “And that was her only reason?”

Rainbow let out a low snort. “If only,” she muttered under her breath. She froze when she heard a low, threatening growl. Daybreaker was glaring at her with glowing eyes.

Rainbow inhaled shakily, eventually looking back at Twilight. “You see, Twilight…” Her tone was softer now, cautious. “She was also… upset… about… you.”

Twilight drew back slightly.

Rainbow avoided her gaze. “We didn’t know if we’d ever see you again. Pinkie… she just couldn’t stay here anymore after that.”

Fluttershy flinched, and Applejack shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Twilight felt a heavy knot form in her throat. Pinkie… she left because she thought I was gone. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. She lowered her gaze, her mane falling forward to hide the tears welling in her eyes.

“Pinkie left because of me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, raw with pain.

A soft wing draped comfortingly around her shoulders. “That’s not it, Twilight,” Fluttershy said gently. “She left because she missed you so much.”

Twilight gave a small, shuddery sob. “And now she still doesn’t know I’m alive… that I’m alright,” she managed in between broken breaths.

Fluttershy pulled her a bit closer, gently stroking Twilight’s back with a hoof. “We couldn’t see you. It wasn’t allowed,” she said quietly.

Twilight raised her head, eyes shining with tears as she turned to Daybreaker. “Why?” she asked, voice trembling, though anger simmered beneath. “Why weren’t they allowed to see me?”

For the first time since they’d arrived, Daybreaker looked… nervous. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, but she quickly recovered.

“You have to understand, Twilight,” she began softly, firmly. “That poison was extremely potent. You were closer to death than you can imagine.” She paused, as if choosing her words with care. “We needed some… very specialized measures to save your life. No one was allowed to see you. It… just couldn’t happen.”

Twilight stared at her, searching for something, for honesty, for an explanation that made sense. Slowly, the anger in Twilight’s eyes gave way to skeptical reflection.

“I see,” she said at last. “But… why didn’t you at least tell them how I was doing?”

Daybreaker smiled, but it was strained. “Because… we didn’t know if you’d pull through.” Her tone was calm, but Twilight sensed deeper layers behind it. “Hope is fragile, Twilight. I wanted to spare them the pain of mourning you… yet it seems I failed.” She sighed. “I’m truly sorry.”

Twilight snorted softly, turning her head away as if trying to regain composure. “Sorry?” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Daybreaker, you let my friends believe I could be dead.” Her eyes narrowed as she fixed the sun alicorn with a piercing stare. “And my family? Do they know?”

Daybreaker tilted her head slightly, face unreadable. Twilight couldn’t tell if there was genuine remorse in those eyes or just a performance of understanding.

“I did what I had to, Twilight,” she said gently but insistently. “As for your family… they’re all in the Crystal Empire.”

Twilight felt her heart skip a beat.

“There’s no way for me to contact them, even if I wanted to.”

Twilight gaped at her in disbelief. “No way?” she repeated, her voice trembling as her mane fell into her face. “You rule all of Equestria, but you can’t send my family a message?”

Daybreaker sighed quietly, a touch of impatience creeping into her tone. “As you already know, our ties to the Crystal Empire are severed. The political climate is tense. I can’t simply send a messenger without putting ponies in danger, Twilight.”

Twilight gritted her teeth, breathing fast, her hooves digging into the couch cushion. Yet she forced herself to breathe deeply for a few seconds before speaking again, her voice unnervingly calm. “Of course. Just another reason to head to the Crystal Empire myself, then.”

Applejack’s head whipped up, and Rainbow Dash fluffed her wings anxiously. Fluttershy’s quiet “Oh” was barely audible.

Daybreaker regarded Twilight thoughtfully, as if she’d anticipated this. “Twilight…” she said, gently but firmly. “You know that’s impossible.”

Twilight held her gaze with unexpected resolve. “Why not?”

“Because I won’t let you run headlong into disaster,” Daybreaker replied, her voice underlaid with both severity and a glimmer of something else, maybe fear. Her expression was unyielding, her gaze locked on Twilight. “I can’t accompany you on that route. It’s dangerous, and you barely have your magic under control.”

Twilight opened her mouth, but Daybreaker spoke first, her tone softer now, but no less commanding. “I will not lose you again.”

Twilight froze. Her ears flicked, and a familiar knot tightened in her chest. She searched Daybreaker’s face for some sign of sympathy, but found only the unbending resolve of a ruler, maybe also a protector.

“This isn’t fair,” Twilight finally whispered, voice trembling. “I have the right to know what happened to my family, and they have the right to know what’s happened to me.”

Daybreaker inclined her head, gaze cool and assessing. “Fair?” she echoed, voice rising. “Twilight, this isn’t about fairness. It’s about your safety… and all of Equestria’s.” She stamped her hoof thunderously. The old wood plank cracked beneath her, splinters flying in all directions.

Twilight flinched, heart pounding. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back angrily. Her voice shook, yet she forced the words out. “I thought there was more to you than just the ruler act.”

Spinning around, she left the room without a backward glance. Her hoofsteps echoed sharply on the wooden floor, each one reverberating in the tense silence.

Behind her, Daybreaker remained, expression inscrutable.

Daybreaker sat alone in her study. The return trip from Ponyville had passed in silence, without a single word exchanged between her and Twilight. Now, within the stillness of her chambers, she buried her face in her hooves.

“This couldn’t have gone any worse,” she muttered, snorting in frustration. “Twilight’s furious with me, and there’s nothing I can do.” Her voice trembled slightly, betraying her frustration. “Why can’t she understand? All I want is to keep her safe!”

Her gaze drifted to the bookshelf, where a bust of Luna stood, an artifact from another time. She clenched her jaw, focusing on the cold, carved features of her sister.

“Of course she matters to me,” she murmured, as if trying to convince herself. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be trying to protect her.”

She continued staring at the bust, as though waiting for an answer that would never come. Her face darkened. “I know what’s best for Twilight. Even if no one attacks her, all she’ll do over there is get hurt and come back scarred.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “And since when are you such an expert on raising foals?” she hissed, whipping upright as her voice rose to a loud shout.

“I can come back later if this is a bad time,” a calm, almost amused voice chimed in from behind.

Daybreaker spun around, her eyes ablaze with menace. Standing casually in the doorway was Bugvisor, lips curved into a smug smile, as though she’d been quietly watching the entire spectacle with amusement.

“Who gave you permission to barge in?” Daybreaker asked with a dangerously calm voice. A vague sense of threat crackled in the air as she fixed Bugvisor with a piercing glare.

Bugvisor remained unfazed. She dipped her head in a slight bow, her expression serene and unchanging. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I’m here for your own good,” she said with unwavering conviction. “I couldn’t help but notice that something wasn’t right.” She glanced at the stone bust behind Daybreaker. “And judging by that conversation you were having with the bust, I was correct.”

Daybreaker’s wings twitched, and her face darkened. “You’d do well to be careful with your observations, Bugvisor,” she warned icily. “As my chief advisor, you’re expected to question my decisions and actions… but don’t forget there are boundaries.”

Bugvisor inclined her head, though her smile did not waver. “Oh, I’m always careful, Majesty. And I certainly didn’t intend to intrude on your privacy.” She stepped slowly into the room, every movement poised and purposeful, as if weaving an invisible web around Daybreaker. Her eyes gleamed with a subdued self-confidence as she drew closer to the solar alicorn. “But I notice things others overlook,” she said softly, her voice a gentle purr somewhere between flattery and challenge. “And I think you know that.”

Daybreaker regarded her in silence for a moment, her gaze cold and appraising. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Then her lips curled into a thin smile devoid of warmth. “Oh, I know, Bugvisor,” she replied at last. “I just hope for your sake you also know when it’s better to look away.”

Bugvisor’s smile grew slightly wider, but she bowed with graceful courtesy. “Of course, Majesty. In this instance, however, I believe I can be of great help to you.”

Daybreaker sighed, as though already aware of where this was headed. “All right then, what do you want?” she asked lightly, though her voice carried a sharp undertone that made a mockery of any pretense of indifference.

Bugvisor offered a gentle, borderline mocking smile. “I don’t want anything, Majesty. But Twilight… Twilight wants to go to the Crystal Empire.”

A low growl escaped Daybreaker as she leaned back in her chair, her golden eyes narrowed and intense. “You know exactly why she can’t go there.”

Bugvisor tilted her head as if weighing a trivial observation. “Naturally.” Her grin broadened in smug approval. “I’m aware of Your Majesty’s concerns. But in this case… perhaps they’re misplaced.”

Daybreaker snorted, her gaze narrowing further. “Explain what you mean,” she said, her voice dropping in pitch, more dangerous. Her horn began to glow ominously, as though reminding Bugvisor what would happen if she displeased her.

But Bugvisor showed no sign of fear. Instead, she took another step forward, composure unbroken and her tone shrewd and unruffled. “Majesty, you should let Twilight travel to the Crystal Empire. If you allow her to go, do it on your terms, under your protection, with your guards. But if you hold her back here… well, it’s only a matter of time before she takes matters into her own hooves.”

Daybreaker glowered, yet Bugvisor remained poised. “And when that moment comes, she’ll do it on her own terms, without protection, without control.”

A moment of charged silence ticked by before Daybreaker exhaled quietly through her nose. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Bugvisor.”

Bugvisor inclined her head, a small smile hovering between flattery and superiority. “I’m playing it for you, Majesty.”

She stepped closer, keeping her eyes firmly on Daybreaker. “I know you worry about Twilight. You want to protect her, but… if you lock her in a cage like a bird, you’ll only put her in danger in the end.”

Daybreaker’s expression twisted, her golden eyes flashing with suppressed anger. “So you think I should just throw her to the wolves?” she retorted with a sarcastic undertone that did little to mask her genuine doubt.

Unperturbed, Bugvisor calmly shook her head. “Not at all.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, almost soothing, as though she’d carefully planned out a solution. “Let Twilight go. Provide her with a squad of guards, lay out firm conditions.”

She stepped even closer to Daybreaker, so only a few paces remained between them. Her voice fell to a cool whisper, laced with calculation. “Tell her she’s free to leave on one condition, that she return at once if there’s even the slightest hint of danger. And instruct the guards to keep an eye on her accordingly.”

Daybreaker studied Bugvisor with narrowed eyes, silent for a moment as though weighing each word on an invisible scale. At last, she let out a soft snort.

“And you assume she’ll follow these conditions?”

Bugvisor smiled again, this time with a tinge more cunning. “I think you know Twilight well enough to realize she will. When has she ever let you down?”

Daybreaker remained silent, eyes narrowed. Bugvisor pressed on, undeterred, her smile deepening, her voice turning soft and almost comforting. “If it really is as dangerous as you say, sooner or later Twilight will come back, admitting you were right.” She paused to let her words sink in before delivering her final thrust.

“And if she does make it to the Crystal Empire…” Bugvisor smiled. “Well, you know yourself how many refugees they’re likely to allow through. Odds are Twilight won’t even set hoof past their borders. Nothing will happen to her… and maybe she’ll even begin to question her own conviction.” She smirked as she added, “Of course, you could just hope she never thinks to go off on her own. But I think we both know what the odds of that are.”

Daybreaker stared at Bugvisor for a long beat, her expression unreadable. Yet in her eyes flickered something, a spark of thought, perhaps reluctant agreement.

Finally, she allowed herself to lean back into the chair. A narrow, satisfied grin spread across her lips. “And that is exactly why you’re my chief advisor,” she said with a blend of respect and faint amusement. “No one is as cunning as you.”

Bugvisor returned her smile, calm, collected. Yet in her eyes gleamed the triumphant light of a flawlessly spun plan. “I only do what’s necessary, Your Majesty.”

Daybreaker regarded her for a moment, gaze lingering on Bugvisor as though assessing every detail of her appearance. “Very well,” she said at last, a hint of wry humor in her tone. “Gather me ten of our most competent guards. I have a few preparations to make on my own. Twilight will get her chance.”

Bugvisor inclined her head again, her grin widening slightly. “Of course, Majesty. I’ll see to it.”

Turning with practiced grace, her tail brushed the floor lightly as she left the room in confident composure.

Daybreaker remained behind. The smile faded slowly from her lips as her gaze settled on the bust of Luna. For a moment, it seemed as though she wanted to say something, but instead, she kept silent. The quiet of the large chamber felt almost suffocating.

Author's Note

Oh yeay, a new chapter. And also the last one for this first story arc. The next one will be a little darker and more serious in tone, but no less exciting and entertaining.

Note: This is an AU which splits off from the canon from the Royal Wedding onwards. Chrysalis never attacked and Discord is still in stone.

The Pegasi have been conscripted for military service. Hence the sudden career change. And Applejack, as a farmer, has to give part of her harvest to the army, hence the extra work.