Untitled Journal in Blueblood's Study

Chapters

II. Special Destiny
III. The Truth
IV. Culture, Strength, Politics
V. Trust
VII. It's Only A Game
VIII. Beneath Canterlot
IX.
X. I Used To Be
XI. Sun
XII. Moon
I. A Brief History of the Marvelous Prince Blueblood
VI. Lessons for a Prince

II. Special Destiny

In order for you to understand my story, there is a pony you should have met long before I ever existed. He was young, barely just a colt, and his life turns out to be rather short. It would have been an unremarkable life too, had it not been for the day he found himself at a crossroads, the day of a ridiculous entrance exam to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.

Now, mind you, I have absolutely nothing against the school. It is a wonderful place. They have strange methods of evaluating students is all. So let’s return to the exam.

A cart with a single egg inside burst into the room. The sprightly colt took one look at the spotted dragon’s egg, a second look at the diagram underneath it, and knew it couldn’t be done. Why would a pony want to awaken a dragon in the first place and what was this egg doing here; where did it come from?

The sound of pencil on paper brought him back to the present moment. Four examiners scribbled furiously on their sheets even though he’d done nothing so far except get lost in thought. He only needed to take one glance at the ponies evaluating him to see that everything about them was rigid, right down to their taste in clothing.

He started to panic. After years of studying, he was going to ruin his chance to go to the best unicorn academy in Equestria. Imagine practicing for so long only to be rejected after five minutes. He didn’t have to look away from the dragon egg to know that one of the examiners stopped writing to stare at him. He could feel her eyes burning holes into his coat.

If he couldn’t hatch a dragon, he’d better do something to impress them. So he did the next best thing. He made a dragon.

He needed more to work with than the simple diagram sketch on the cart, so he imagined a dragon out of Ye Olde Storie books: long, elegant, and flowing with glistening scales, whiskers, and a spaded tail. Any color would do. No need to be particular.

A cheap parlor trick. It was the best he could do. Yellow sparks sputtered from the colt’s horn and a stream of light whipped forth like a snake. The gold color melded into purple and the creature took shape. It was but a miniature of the real thing and you could see right through it. Even so, it had such life with royal purple scales and horns and claws wreathed in gold. And, for the briefest moment, it had eyes that burned in sky blue flames. Then it was gone.

The examiners noted the wisps of ethereal light fading away and they noted the new purple and gold mark on the colt’s flank. Despite how much energy that simple spell seemed to cost, the colt raced around the room in excitement. He had a cutie mark in magic; never mind what the uptight unicorns though about his failure to hatch the egg.

He was accepted to the school.

At first the colt thought it was part of the acceptance when Princess Celestia arrived at his home that night. Imagine the scene: the most revered pony in all of Equestria speaking with the colt’s parents in hushed tones. Imagine when the majestic Sun Guide turned and approached the small pony, her great long legs forcing him to crane his head up to see her. Imagine that colt’s reaction when she told him that he could not attend the school after all. The sheer horror of that moment – the kind of terror where your heart freezes for a fraction of a second and it’s a wonder you don’t fall to the floor because your dreams are ripped out from underneath you so quickly.

She was enrolling him in private studies with one of the very best instructors in Equestria. Breathe a sigh of relief.

All of this over one light show? He didn’t understand. He was getting private tutoring from a respected unicorn mage. The possibility was thrilling, and yet…

“Why can’t I go to the School for Gifted Unicorns?”

The great alicorn’s smile never faltered. She swept a white wing over him. “My little pony, you have a very special destiny. I’ll understand if you do not want to rise to meet it and I’m happy to return you to the academy, but know this: if you accept my offer you will learn more than most ponies will learn in a lifetime. You will use your skills to protect Equestria and play a role of dire importance in the coming years. Yet knowledge and power come with a cost, and so even as you serve Equestria it will be at an immense sacrifice to yourself. I’m afraid I can’t tell you more than that.”

Special destiny were the words, terrible destiny was the meaning.

The Princess folded her wing closed. She gave her speech a few moments to sink in, but she didn’t doubt her subject’s ability to comprehend. “It’s a hard decision to make, so I’ll give you the time you need to consider it.” Celestia turned. Her gilt horseshoes clacked against the marble floor as she walked away.

The colt bowed his head and stared at the alternating gray and grayer tiles. At the heart of it, the decision was between a normal existence and one where the fate of Equestria hung in the balance.

So I ask, if you were granted the choice, would you elect a satisfying, average life or a purpose?

…

“Wait,” the colt said.

Celestia placed her hoof on the ground and stopped, a bit surprised.

“I accept.”

He didn’t know it then, but that was the day the colt died and Prince Blueblood was born.

III. The Truth

The evening after Princess Celestia visited my family, I had my first encounter with an entirely different class of remarkable pony. I received a letter written in old fashioned black ink instructing me to go to classroom 2M at Celestia’s School after dinner that night.

This was years before Princess Luna’s return. The school then was different than it is today, and I cannot fathom what it might be like for you now. Back then, some classes were taught in Canterlot Castle, but the majority of everyday study happened in a grand fortress near the mountainside. Special fencing surrounded the academy. It was as much to keep wayward experiments in as it was to keep unsuspecting ponies out. Because newer parts of the school blended in with the swirling and pointy spires of Canterlot, the distinctive fence was a lifesaver.

The rest of the fortress was very old and built brick by brick out of a sort of gray stone. It had obviously existed before Canterlot Castle and could’ve been many things in a past life. Large double doors were crafted from wood with ornate black hinges. Hallways tall enough to make pegasi happy went in all directions, supported by smooth pillars topped with scooped arches. The inside was decorated to feel modern and comfortable regardless of what the fortress’ past might have been.

This was during the day of course.

After dark the part of the school containing room 2M was dimly lit and quiet. I was surprised I’d been able to get in this section of the building because nopony was here, not a single straggling faculty member, not even a janitor. A strip of deep purple carpeting muted my solitary hoofsteps.

It was dark when I came to the end of the hallway and saw the placard for 2M. The door was ajar and the lights were off.

I poked my head inside the classroom and found it empty. Rows of ghostly desks faced a large blackboard. Unlike the rest of the school and much of Canterlot’s architecture, the long room lacked windows. It only had one door in the front and there was no back exit for students in the last rows of desks. 2M was a clear violation of fire safety standards and one of the many secretive places in Canterlot I studied from.

I decided to wait out my fate in a desk in the front row. Have you ever sat in an empty classroom, alone, at night? It is an odd experience.

I listened for hoofbeats. None came.

The door closed on its own. Before I could investigate, a flash of silver teleportation light burst at the head of the room. The alcove lighting along the ceiling came on.

There are some ponies you meet and never forget. Headmistress Magick is one of them. Her strict appearance alone was enough to frighten classroom delinquents into submission. She wore her gray mane in a bun stuck with two black hairsticks in an X. The once youthful gray in her hair was giving way to silver, one strand for every book of wisdom her mind’s library possessed. At that time her mane hadn’t gone completely silver, not yet.

“Good evening Prince Blueblood,” she said. “I am Headmistress Magick, principal of Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. I shall be your private instructor in the years to come.”

I was shocked. The leader of the whole school was my mentor. I remembered my good manners and said, “Pleased to meet you Headmistress. You can just call me Blue.”

Magick’s rigid posture did not loosen. “Dear Prince, you have a lot to learn. Your title is an honorific not to be taken lightly. When Canterlot is in trouble, does the Royal Guard bandy about tittering ‘Celestia, Celestia!’ Of course not. They yell ‘Princess Celestia.’ Only close family and friends may call you by your name without respecting your station. Consider this your first lesson, Prince Blueblood.”

My heart sank. This was the first taste of the harsh reality I chose when I took Princess Celestia’s path. I cannot say I inherited this reality, because, remember, I am not a Prince. You’ve only been made to believe that.

I differed to my manners again. “If I may, Headmistress, is there a connection between my name and learning magic?”

“I am here to teach you how to be a Prince.” Various items were populating the room even though Magick hadn’t so much as shifted a hoof. Maps and scientific instruments, gadgets and diagrams, and books. Lots of books. Entire shelves full of them. “Everything from your poise and manner of speech to knowledge of the arcane arts will be rewritten. Now, I am not expert enough in all of these areas nor do I possess an unlimited quantity of time, so my most trusted allies will help you in some of your studies.”

The mare’s nose twitched. Her eyes slid to a section of the blackboard with a chalk smudge on it. A silver magical aura picked up a cloth from the edge of the board, dampened it, and eliminated the imperfection. “I see no reason to dawdle any further, so let’s begin with the basics, shall we? We may have years, but the thing we’re lacking in is time.”

Magick didn’t bother to write anything on the blackboard. She launched into the lesson.

“There are three well-understood classes of pony magic, which, as you might guess, correspond with each race: earth, pegasus, and unicorn. Of these magics, most scholars agree that unicorn magic is the most versatile and earth pony magic is the most complicated. Despite the great differences, in many cases all three races are capable of achieving some degree of the same task with magic.

For instance, say you were to explore a cave so dark you cannot see. What would you do?"

"Cast a light spell, of course."

"Now imagine you're an earth pony. What will you do?"

I tried to picture myself standing before a gaping hole of complete darkness with no horn to rely on. There were no options for any pony other than a unicorn. There was no way to create light. "I, uh... would go find a unicorn?"

The Headmistress didn’t appreciate my weak humor. "Incorrect."

"But earth ponies don't have magic!"

Barely had the words left my mouth than one of Magick's black hairsticks shot from her mane and lashed me over the nose. I held a hoof over the smarting blow. "Ow! What was that for?" I snapped.

The stick slotted itself back into Magick's mane. "In this world, for every wrong move you make, for every social faux pas, for every bit of ignorance, there will be a punishment far more severe than a strike to your snout. That is the nature of royal politics."

Magick conjured a green notebook out of thin air and levitated it onto my desk. Pressed leaves wrapped around the book's binding. "It will serve you well to understand earth magic. Inside this text is a summary of all the essentials; read it and return it to me by the end of the week. This is little known knowledge, so I request you keep it to yourself. Everything you know that an opponent does not gives you an advantage."

I leafed through the book’s loosely bound pages while I mulled over the idea that earth ponies had magic. “What would an earth pony do in a dark cave?”

“It depends. Many these days could grow woody plants on the spot to start a fire. Others have the ability to engineer a machine to help them explore. Only the truly talented can light a path with bioluminescent mushrooms, though you would be hard pressed to find a pony of that caliber in Equestria today. Should you ever encounter these mushrooms, do not eat them; they can be deadly.”

Magick turned to the blackboard and began to orchestrate a drawing with several sticks of chalk at once. “We will study poisons in detail at a later time.”

My question sounded more a statement of fact. “This isn’t something you teach at the School for Gifted Unicorns, is it.”

“No.”

You may be wondering at this point how I can recall events of my life with such clarity. There’s something called a memory spell. If you are familiar with how the Elements of Harmony defeated Discord, you’ll remember Twilight Sparkle used it to overcome the false memories in her friends’ hearts.

I do not need a memory spell to recall what happened after that first lesson with Headmistress Magick. I tried to go home and she stopped me.

“You will not return to your foster parents’ home this night, nor any other. Such a common dwelling does not befit a Prince.”

Foreboding wrenched my naïve heart. “I think you mean my mom and dad. I’m not a foster pony.”

Magick paused and made a concerned hum while she assessed the situation. “I fear the Princess left me with some explaining to do. If I had known I might not have said anything yet. But perhaps it is for the best you know now. Think. The ponies who raised you do not have the status for you to be born a Prince.”

It was true.

I knew it was true.

I didn’t want to believe it.

My parents died defending Equestria. Orphans are exceedingly rare in our society, but I became one when I was only a foal and too young to comprehend I’d lost the two most important ponies in my life. My adoptive parents agreed to raise me until it was time for me to take my place as Prince. They’d already known what would happen the day I came home with my cutie mark.

One of the things I sacrificed when I chose this role was time with my family. For as much as my living parents did love me, my studies with Magick kept us apart and my duty to the kingdom even more so. I wish I’d done something to show I loved them when I still had time. All I’m left with now is a wish that will never come true.

…

I was too stunned then to take in the fact I had parents I never knew and to believe I couldn’t go home. Headmistress Magick guided me out of 2M and onto the lawns of the school where a uniquely colored pony was waiting for us. His tailored gray fur was so dark it was almost black, except the flash of white on his chest and equally light colored hooves.

Magick said, “Your chief of staff will show you to your manor and teach you etiquette beginning tomorrow.”

The stallion bowed. “Welcome back, Your Highness.”

IV. Culture, Strength, Politics

The base of Canterlot is a cliff that looks over the river far below. If you go off the beaten path, you'll find a three tiered palace carved into the mountainside.

"I get to live here?"

Wild, untrimmed hedges bordered gardens around the perimeter of the fine estate topped with towers gilded in the purple and gold of the royal family. Stables for private coaches lay beyond a closed double gate on one end of the palace. A side of the gate had become unhinged and hung crookedly. Nearby was a landing strip for pegasi chariots. There was even an airship port at the end of the cliff. The area contained everything a Prince would need to host foreign officials.

My black and white guardian looked over the wonderful, disastrous estate. "Yes, Prince Blueblood. Welcome home."

I barely heard the statement because I was already running down the lane to the mansion. I inherited a mansion. It was any young pony's dream come true. I galloped through the grand entryway and down marble corridors, through the study piled with books beyond my comprehension, and up and down the spiral staircases. My excited exploration stirred up dust and the sheets covering furniture. I peered into the large kitchen and surprised the only chef there before I took off without a word. I trotted around the second floor wrap-around balcony on the outside of my estate and I cantered across the bridge on the inside that overlooked the grand entry room. A remarkable mural featuring the sun embellished the ceiling. Somehow I had missed that detail when I first came in.

Eventually I came back to the foyer, where the tuxedo-coated stallion had been waiting for me. His composure did not break, but a bit of mischief crept into his voice. "I take it a tour of the premises will not be necessary."

"No," I panted.

"Then I shall see you in the morning at breakfast. As you've no doubt seen, we need to discuss staffing for your estate. And do try to make yourself presentable."

I blew a frazzled strand of mane out of my face. "Oh. Uh. Right."

"Nonono! Not that fork!"

Both forks looked exactly the same. The only difference was one was closer to the plate than the other. "Oh for goodness sake Cumber!" I cried. "Is silverware really necessary? Can't I just eat with my hooves - or with my magic for that matter?"

The monochrome pony who had led me to the mansion a few days prior sat back in his chair. "No. The Saddle Arabians have very specific etiquette. If you use your magic you risk offending certain of the upper class."

I jabbed the syrup-laden waffle with the correct fork and attempted to slice it with a knife. My hooves had a hard time holding the accursed utensils.

Cumber sighed and picked up his own fork. "Like this. You are not trying to stab the food, after all." He watched me drop the pronged piece of metal and scramble under the table for it. "Hum. Perhaps waffles was too difficult a first meal," Cumber muttered to himself before speaking loud enough for me to hear underneath the table. "As for the grounds and the staff, your parents left you with a substantial inheritance, but did not cover emergency salaries for any employees save myself and the head chef. You will need to hire more ponies or give me leave to do so in your stead. The current state of your residence is not acceptable, especially not if you are to be entertaining guests."

My understanding of finances was nonexistent at that point. I got back into my chair, fork in hoof, and tried to be civilized. "I trust you to handle it for now. Hire whoever you need."

"Very well. If you could sign this, then." Cumber produced a tray containing a document and some items I did not recognize. He brought it to my side of the table. "It needs the royal seal as well." Cumber flicked a small metal bowl on the tray with his hoof. A flame sprouted up underneath and melted the wax inside. Next to it was a signet ring.

I signed and stamped the release. Cumber rolled it up and returned everything to the tray. "Now, if you would be so kind as to excuse me, I have much to do to return your home to its former glory."

I waited for Cumber to leave, but he stood there with his head lowered respectfully.

"Your highness, I cannot leave without your permission."

"Oh! Er, you may go."

Cumber bowed his way out of the room, taking the tray with him.

The Captain of the Guard eyed me up and down and saw a weak, inexperienced young pony. "Are you certain you are up for this job?" he asked.

I shifted my hooves in the dirt and watched them push the loose soil around. The Captain harrumphed.

"Look at me when I speak to you. Maybe at your fancy mansion you get special treatment, but here you are an untrained initiate no different from the others."

I met his battle-hardened gaze. It hurt. "Yes sir."

"Better, but needs some work. Follow me, recruit. Now, despite what I stated about treatment, as the key defense of our Great Princess Celestia it is imperative you have the combat skills to act as such. Therefore I will push you to the limits of your ability every session. Most days this training will be private." The Captain rounded a corner of the building and dragged a hoof along the bottom edge of the wall as he did so. The stones in the alcove he was facing slid away, revealing a downward staircase.

We made our way down and the stones to the entryway closed behind us. The Captain's horn lit the way. "The first thing to know about all of the guards is that none of us are who we appear to be. If you've ever wondered why all guards look the same and why they're all stallions, it's a glamour spell. An illusion. Mystery solved."

The stairs ended at a sparse training room walled in on every side by gray stone. The Captain lit the magic sconces along the perimeter of the room while he explained that even with the glamour, every pony had at least one "tell" that gave away who was who. Tells ranged from the pitch of the voice to tokens worn on the body to the way a pony flipped an ear or tilted their head before speaking.

"Now fight!" the Captain shouted.

"Wait what?" I managed to yelp before a strike to my side sent me sprawling across the room. Strands of my mane tangled and covered my eyes. In alarm I noticed blue-on-blue, exactly the color of a unicorn guard. At some point the illusion spell had taken hold on me too.

The Captain stood in the center of the room, sturdy as the stones all around us. "Lesson one. A single surprise attack is all it takes to win - or lose, in your case. Now I'll show you how to don that set of armor behind you, unless you wish to leave here black and blue."

Military training involved me getting beat up. For a time, anyway.

After being whacked with weapons and Magick’s hairsticks and forced to wear outfits of every culture known to ponykind, the Headmistress sent me to the Canterlot archives to stand in front of the history section for an indefinite period of time.

I tried not to fiddle with the blue tie strangling my neck. Cumber wouldn't let me out of the mansion without at least a bowtie on, which resulted in interesting problems when I had combat training with the Royal Guard. At least I was presentable enough to be in public now, though apparently not enough to stay out for long without an escort who pushed me away from any casual conversation with passersby.

The chance to be alone today was a rare treat.

I did not wait long in front of my shelf before a mare entered the large room, spotted me, and strode (or perhaps glided is a better word) toward me with a purpose. Her movements were graceful and smooth, much like the long sweeping flows of her mane. I recognized something about her but could not put my hoof on it.

The mare gave a short bow that indicated she knew who I was. "You must be Prince Blueblood."

"Yep, that's me."

A laugh lit up my new instructor's eyes, but she made no sound. My uncouth, unprincely speech amused her. Well, soon enough Cumber and Magick would beat it out of me. I consciously made an effort to be more eloquent: "Pardon my asking, but you seem familiar even though I'm certain we have not met."

"You must be thinking of my daughter, Fleur de Lis. You attended school together years ago. She's since taken an interest in modeling - I suppose with how distant you've become as of late it is not surprising you did not know." Fleur's mother smiled and her eyes glittered through a pair of designer eyeglasses. "I am told that unlike my daughter, you do not need to discover the appreciation of finer things, but rather the turbulent underside of that world."

Politics.

The Lady de Lis turned her gaze to the rows of books behind me. "So, if you please, we will begin with history. You shall need to know the prominent noble families to start, the relationships we have with other nations, lesser known historical events that still ring bitter in the minds of some, and so forth.”

The mare pulled a tome from one of the shelves with her magic. "Tell me, have you heard the legend of the Mare in the Moon?"

Yes, the old pony tales have a basis in reality – a stronger one than I suspected. No, earth ponies do not lack magic. Yes, we had centuries of peace and prosperity, but that happens when your enemies realize you are so terrifying that you would not stop at banishing your own kin for a thousand years.

This was a realm of knowledge far outside what I learned in school, where things were the opposite of what I expected or more complex than I’d been taught. On any given day Magick could show up to one of my lessons with a parasprite, with a chicken warped into a cockatrice by dark magic, with a manticore. She spoke of things imprisoned in the stars, unicorns with whiplike tails, and lands far beyond Equestria. I thought it not possible, but eventually surprises simply ceased to surprise me. I was desensitized to them.

The floor still hurt, though.

The Captain of the Guard growled at me while he pressed his hoof into my shoulder plate and pushed me into the flagstones. “Is that it, little horsey? Weeks of training, and here you are, dead under the hooves of some traitorous scum, hidden in an underground cavern where nopony will ever find you. ‘Didn’t even put up a fight,’ they’d say. ‘Didn’t even–’”

“RRRaahhh!” I tore the weapon rack from the wall with magic and crashed it into the Captain of the Guard. The wood and weapons bounced off a shield he threw up and clattered to the floor. I was still trapped under the Captain’s hooves. I was too small to toss him off myself.

“Hah,” the Captain laughed. “Gonna have to do better than that. Whoa!”

I’d managed to wrap a tendril of magic around my captor’s back leg and pull it out from under him. I rolled out of the way and leapt to my feet, bringing a fallen sword from one end of the room into my hoof. Good thing, too, because the Captain was already there. Steel clashed on steel. The blades locked together.

“Still not strong enough to levitate that blade with staying power, I see. The trouble is, as a young unicorn you are no match for brute strength. And there will always be someone stronger than you.” The leader of the Royal Guard was pushing my blade back toward my body. I couldn't hold him back.

The Captain’s horn glowed and a slice of air cut the space behind me. He hooked the blade in his hoof under mine and flung my weapon from my grasp. My front had never been his target. I understood that as I noticed the weight missing from my tail. He’d cropped it. The second sword he’d used to hit me from behind floated into view.

“Let that be a lesson to you. Watch your back, and learn to use your horn. You’re at a disadvantage if you don’t.” The Captain picked up the weapon rack and started putting items back in order. “Catch your breath and I’ll show you how to put up a shield. You’re still not ready for strong offensive magic. After this lesson I expect to see you topside sparring with the newer recruits.”

The Lady de Lis took me to a chariot salesyard, of all places. We’d been to ballrooms and galleries and Canterlot city hall. I wondered what we were doing here. There was not much time to wonder before one of the salesponies was on us. He was brimming with energy. “Have you been helped yet?”

De Lis shook her head. “No, don’t worry about us. We’re not interested in buying. I’m here to show my apprentice how a sales place operates.”

The salespony found this a strange statement. He looked the mare over and saw a well-dressed, ladylike equine who was gentle and posed no threat.

Fool.

“In that case, if you need anything do not hesitate to ask.” The pony went over to a customer browsing, a more likely target for a sale.

“If we are not careful we will attract more of them,” De Lis said. “Now, we are going to pretend to be observing our general surroundings but actually be listening in on these ponies’ conversations. Or, as one would say, we are going to eavesdrop. Of course the trick is not to get caught. In the event you are caught, well, that is when you improvise depending on the circumstances.”

The Lady conjured a mirror and brush and did a convincing act of adjusting her mane. I only knew she was pretending because of what she had just said.

If I did the same thing it would have been obvious something was amiss. Because I was young enough to pass off as my mentor’s son, I had a free pass. I sat on the ground and acted vaguely interested in my surroundings while I waited for my mom to finish what she was doing. We’d be okay in this spot for a few minutes and then we would need to move.

De Lis said, “Tell me about the conversation over there.”

“The sales pony is complimenting the customer, saying he did the research on the carriages and picked one that has a solid build but is still lightweight. The customer has a good eye. That sort of thing.”

“Does that seem odd to you?”

“No.”

“Ah, but it is. Speech is manipulative. Has he said the customer’s name at least once?”

“Yes.”

“That’s another sign the sales pony is trying to up the potential buyer’s ego and make him feel confident about purchasing. See, a good politician is wise to that game. Baseless flattery will get you nowhere. Any time somepony speaks to you in the sneaky way a salespony does, that should be a red flag. They are likely trying to convince you to do something you might not otherwise agree to.”

The two of us moved through the carriages like spies, careful to avoid the line-of-sight of any salespony. The Lady de Lis found a good spot to the side of one of the vehicles where we could stay undetected. “Prince, I’d like you to observe these conversations for a little while today. Carriage salesponies are extremely good at pressuring customers into a sale and knowing when to offer more incentives to make them purchase something. It is worthwhile to learn those tactics to recognize when they are being used against you. I would not suggest copying them directly, though, because after today it will be obvious when someone is trying to manipulate or bribe you. Subtlety is key.”

Subtle the salesponies were not. Then again, everyone expected them to bend backwards to sell carriages. That was their job. It was trickier to pinpoint a manipulative pony when you did not know their motive. Verbal traps are easy to spot when you know what your adversary’s ultimate goal is.

So what happens when you yourself do not know what your goal is? Here I was, learning combat and manipulation and culture and magic, but with no purpose. Why did I need to know any of this? What was I supposed to be doing?

V. Trust

I grew impatient. One day I interrupted Magick during an explanation of poisons. Diagrams and illustrations floated around the room, and I’d lost track of which of us was holding what. Half of the things fell to the floor when I cut the flow of magic.

“What am I learning all of this for? I decided to rise to meet my destiny, but nopony has told me what that is!”

Silver light scooped up whatever it had failed to catch during the sudden outburst. Magick said in her ever-distant and distracted way, “Hm, yes. You are learning all of this in order to protect Princess Celestia.”

“That is what the Captain of the Guard tells me. If I am to be her royal-blooded defender, then I should like to speak with her again. I need guidance. I have not seen her or my own family in months.”

My demands fell unheeded on Magick’s ears. She turned and a sparkling glow began to pull books for me to read out of the library she could conjure out of nothing. “The Princess is too busy mentoring her own protégé. As for guidance, you have four of the finest specialists at your beck and call, though your position of power means you should be careful in whom you trust.”

“I don’t follow how I am so powerful. I’ve only met the Princess once and I have no special knowledge or skill. Why aren’t you telling me the whole story?”

“I see you’ve been spending time with the Lady de Lis. When you first began you would never have picked up on the fact there was something I did not tell you.” Magick lowered a set of three books onto my desk. “The reason I have reserves about what I say is because of what I iterated not four seconds ago: trust.”

I opened my mouth to object, but Magick cut me off. “I am not referring to you, but to my three friends.”

“You don’t trust your closest friends? That’s outrageous.”

“Is it? Consider your life as if it were a story. A young, easily influenced pony with no living parents suddenly inherits a right to the throne and the ear of the kingdom’s leader. There are many ways for this to end badly. He could be corrupted, driven mad for power, turned into a spy, made to trust somepony he should not. In a situation where the prize is large amounts of money, prestige, or power, even a good pony will give in to temptation.”

Silver light tore a book from one of the shelves and snapped it open inches from my eyes, forcing me to see the contents. The image at the top of the page showed two royals staring into each other’s eyes. Instead of pupils, large black hearts clouded their vision. Printed underneath were the words ‘Love Poison’.

The Headmistress said darkly, “All great betrayals come from people close to the protagonist. Friends, family, lovers.” She flipped through the pages, drawing after drawing of the terrors that befell the kingdom after the love poison corrupted its victims. “It would be stupid for me to think that nopony will take advantage of this opportunity.”

She snapped the book shut. “Wherever there is trust, there is betrayal.”

What kind of pony thinks their friends will turn against them in the end? Such a bitter life that must be. I did not agree with Magick, but there was nothing I could say to change her mind, so I remained silent.

What happened to Magick to make her this way? I do not know.

VII. It's Only A Game

I stormed into my estate and down the grand entryway, passing under the great visage of Celestia’s Sun decorating the ceiling. One angry white stallion, coming up.

A familiar black and white tuxedo pony slid into view and interrupted my imminent rampage. “Pardon me, Prince Blueblood, but you seem to be upset about something,” Cumber said.

I stopped immediately and stood there, as still as a Royal Guard called to attention. “It’s nothing, really.”

“The wild look in your eyes says otherwise, and normally you are exceptional at keeping your temper. Is there anything I can get you, my liege? Perhaps this calls for that air ship you’ve wanted. You could even take it out yourself.”

I searched for signs Cumber was teasing me, but all I saw was that he was genuinely interested in knowing what was wrong. I regained control of myself and let my muscles relax. “The Lady de Lis took me to another social and I happened to overhear something horrid. In fact, I think the group of ponies wanted me to overhear it: that there is a faction of the populace who believes Princess Celestia has been too long on the throne, and it is time the ruling class had their fair share of the leadership.” I snorted. “What’s more, they want someone in the nobility to lead the coup or marry into power. The whole whispered exchange reeked of a power grab with no real motivation behind it save greed.”

Cumber followed me on my angry stroll to the coatroom. I left no room for him to respond. “I spoke of what I overheard to De Lis. 'It is a game.' That's all she had to say!" I had expected anger, shock, horror even, but the Lady de Lis’ tone had been matter-of-fact, plain and simple, like thinking of replacing Princess Celestia was a common, everyday occurrence. In my history and social lessons the Lady told me over and over politics was a game, but it was not until that moment I realized to what extent.

What type of unfathomable idiot thought they could take over Princess Celestia’s place? It was ludicrous.

I went to the ornamental hooks on one wall and caught whichever jacket reached my teeth first, whipping it on with precision. Cumber raised his eyebrows without disturbing his stoic expression.

"Prince Blueblood, where are you going?"

"I'm going to find Magick."

Nopony stopped me as I rang for one of my coaches and had it take me to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. I'd considered running down the streets of Canterlot, but my reasonable side pointed out it was a bit of a run and there was no need to create a scene.

I huffed and sat back in the luxury carriage, reaching out with my magic to draw the curtains across the windows. I closed my eyes and dipped into my own magic for a tracing spell. Empty your mind enough and you start to sense the energies around you: disturbances from higher level magic and tiny sparkles where someone casts a simple spell.

In the amazing chaos of colored sensations I sought for a single thread. I drew a picture of Magick in my mind: her taught expression, sharp hairsticks and silvery mane. Then I infused that with distinct personal memories like being smacked in the nose with one of the sticks for speaking without thought and how carefully she inspected certain books I returned to her when she thought I was busy reading. Despite this focus, nothing in the magical underworld changed. No traces grew brighter and no silvery thread stood out.

I knew this spell worked because I could use it for my adoptive parents and for Cumber as well. Tracing spells are extremely useful when you need to track somepony down without searching an entire mansion on foot.

For Magick I got nothing. Admittedly my personal connection with her was weak. Blast!

I got out of the carriage and instructed it to wait for me while I searched the School for Gifted Unicorns amid students I might have been among, years ago. Had I been successful here I would have graduated by now. Most of the unicorns were caught up in their daily lives, but here and there I heard whispers between ponies who were sure I was the Prince.

After checking the office and wandering around for a bit I was forced to recognize the fact I’d wasted the past few hours I should have been using to read my latest assignment, Magical Mystery Cure.

Magick didn't show up to the lesson the next day either. She had never missed a class in the time I’d known her. I paced up and down the rows of empty desks in 2M for half an hour before directing my private carriage to take me to the De Lis residence. It was late and a totally inappropriate hour for an unannounced social call, but I did not care.

I stepped out of the carriage to the family attendant's surprise. The serious look on my face plus the evening hour made her nervous, and she rocked slightly from one side to the other, anxious to get rid of me. "Ah, monsieur Blueblood, I do not believe the lady was expecting you. Shall I ring for her? Nevermind, I will do so. Excuse me."

A few minutes later the attendant ushered me through the main doors. The marble main room was dimly lit with a few candles that cast a soft glow on the gilt gold crown molding. Clearly the family had been expecting a quiet evening. The Lady de Lis made her way down the grand staircase opposite the entry, hair flowing down her shoulders like a night river.

"Good evening Prince Blueblood. I must assume you have some urgent reason to be out so late. Are you alright?"

"Er yes, I'm fine. I truly apologize for visiting unannounced. I've come to see if you have heard from Magick lately. I fear something may have happened to her, given I haven't been able to contact her for several days now."

De Lis' eyes lit up with concern and surprise. "I suppose you have not heard the news then. The Captain of the Royal Guard has gone missing."

"But I just saw him last week," I said, startled. I no longer had military training but I still visited the compound to stay in practice.

"And no pony has seen her since," De Lis corrected. "The Captain and Magick were good friends once, though the relationship has been a bit strained as of late. Regardless, Magick is likely scouring Canterlot from top to bottom for clues to the Captain's whereabouts." De Lis hummed, bemused, and a tired smile softened her face. "Honestly Prince Blueblood, I must not have been a very good tutor if you did not pick up on the rumors about the Captain's disappearance."

Normally I would offer some good humor, but at the time I was irritated at life in general. My words sounded harsh: "I've been a bit distracted."

De Lis knew I was talking about the whispers of insurrection, but she made no comment. Her nature was calm and caring but also sharp, so I could not understand why she became silent on the topic. I was starting to get fed up with it, and with all of the other mysteries in my life.

As annoyed as I was, the Lady de Lis herself was one of those ponies nobody ever seemed to get angry at. I was courteous and dipped my head before saying goodbye. "Sorry to disturb you De Lis. You've given me something to think on, so I shall be retiring for the night."

"Would you like me to attempt to get in touch with Magick? I know how hard she is to locate."

"That's quite alright, thank you. Besides, if she is looking for the Captain, I suspect I will see her very soon."

VIII. Beneath Canterlot

Cumber entered the dining hall. “Prince Blueblood, Headmistress Magick is here to see you.”

“Very well. Please inform her I shall be ready as soon as I am finished having tea with the Earl of Whinnysbury.” I took a sip from the teacup floating in the air, careful not to let it spill on the open book in front of me.

“Shall I point out that you are currently not having tea with anyone?”

I set the cup on the table that had only one pony sitting at it: me. “That may be so, but the Headmistress does not know that.”

“Or,” Magick’s voice sounded from behind Cumber as she moved around him to enter the dining room, “you thought wrong, and I do know what you think I don’t know.”

I should have guessed she would not be bothered to wait for me to welcome her in. After all, I was still her student.

A lone sugar cube hovered above my drink. I let it drop into the liquid. “Thank you Cumber. If you don’t mind.”

Cumber left the two of us alone in the dining hall. Magick drew up a chair opposite mine and took a seat. Her mane shone in pure silver, pulled back into a tight bun with two hairsticks like it always was. She said, “Because I wasted your time yesterday by not making our appointment, I am coming to you directly today. Did you finish Magical Mystery Cure?”

I closed the book on the table, revealing the gem-studded cover. It disappeared in a flash of magic. A white, wavy teacup with a silver rim and star etchings sat where the book had been.

I raised the teapot from the table and filled the cup. “There is something I don’t understand,” I said before taking a sip of my own overly-sweet tea. “Why would a pony be so unhappy with their talent as to try and change it with magic?”

Magick levitated her cup to her side of the table. “Sometimes unicorns forget the value of hard work. It is not enough to wish a problem away.” She turned her steely gaze to the ripples inside the cup. “If you want to change something, do it.”

The mare took a moment to drink from her tea before she continued. “We can discuss Magical Mystery Cure later. I have a more pressing issue on my hooves at the moment. You were at the barracks last week for some practice sparring and you must have seen the Captain of the Royal Guard then. What do you remember about that day?”

“I came in through the back way to not draw too much attention and waited for the glamour to take over. The spell’s effect on me has weakened over time, so it requires longer and longer for it to take hold after I cross the border. After a bit I went to put on armor and join the rest of the royal guards.”

I sank into the memory of that day. “The Captain is not a flashy pony; I know you know this, but he… she does wear a crest where the armor plates join at the neck. I spotted her giving orders to some of the guards on one of the bridges between the castle’s turrets. She saw me, but it wasn’t until after sparring that she came down to talk. I remember she asked if all of my techniques were still sharp after I’d graduated from private training, and I told her I was fine. Not once has she ever given me more than lukewarm praise, but at least she has the decency to make sure I’m not falling behind or struggling.”

There was nothing unusual about the day at all. I couldn’t think of anything that stood out.

“I suspected you might not, so now I need your assistance with a task. A Captain of the Royal Guard does not simply go missing. We have no time to waste.”

I sat straight up. “But you don’t need to–”

All of a sudden I was getting sucked into the center of my being. My magic crammed into one compact ball and my lungs screamed for air. Everything inside me twisted and shifted and jolted back into place and I was whole again, standing in an unfamiliar hallway. It was tilting to one side. I took an unsteady step and the hall tipped the other way. “Urf, Magick, you know I cannot stand when you do that.”

“Well I certainly cannot expect you to do it yourself, now, can I?”

I grumbled as the room righted itself. Teleportation happened to be in the school of magic that was my polar opposite. The spells were not impossible for me to cast – they were just draining and altogether unpleasant to experience.

Tall pillars stretched from the floor to ceiling and a strip of red carpet flowed down the stone hall. I decided we must be somewhere in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, given the architecture, except there were no windows. It should have been pitch black, but the hall was dimly lit even with no light source I could see. The air was cold, still, and a bit damp.

Magick trotted off down the hall with me following behind. She stopped between two unremarkable pillars and put her hoof to the wall. Liquid aura poured from her touch and the stone melted away as if it had never been there at all. Honestly, with this pony I never knew what to expect next. In this case it was not another room behind the wall, but a cavern.

The walls of the cave were smooth and shiny, edged in multiple facets like a cut sapphire. There didn’t appear to be any planning behind how the walls were carved, which gave me the impression the area had been tunneled through. Chunks of shiny rock stuck out here and there, but the tunnel was easily wide enough for a number of ponies to walk side by side.

It wasn't until we reached the end of the tunnel that I realized what was going on. It opened out into a massive room that stretched deep into the depths of the earth. I stared at the jagged outcroppings of dagger-like gems. "These... Magick, these are all..."

"Crystals, yes."

Old, broken rails for mine carts went round and round through the tunnels that connected to this open area. The ground before us turned into a cliff that fell into a bottomless pit. Well, I assumed it had some end, only it was not one I could see. I stepped away from the edge. It made me nervous, which was easy to see in the way the crystal outcrops reflected my pale face over and over.

I was confused. “I thought there were no more crystals in Equestria. Certainly not this many.”

There were dozens of tunnels that I could see. How many crystals had been taken from this place? From the state of the equipment and the newer looking crystal formations it must have been a very, very long time ago. A creeping sense of dread entered my thoughts. “This is dangerous. What if somepony finds out this exists?”

Magick motioned for me to go with her down one of the tunnels. “Even if these caves were rediscovered, it would not matter. Much of the knowledge needed to harness crystal magic disappeared, quite literally.” Magick’s hoofsteps echoed in the tunnel. “Canterlot was not always located on a cliff. In their greedy search for powerful crystals, unicorns dug out so much of these tunnels that half of the land collapsed, forming the gorge that you see from your estate every day.”

Let that be a lesson in greed. “The tunnels collapsed, and the ponies’ own ambitions destroyed them. So that is how the knowledge was lost?”

“No. The avalanche killed many ponies and hid the caves. But back then, a pony with enough crystals had the ability to extend life itself. Crystal is teleportation resistant, so when the citizens of Canterlot refused to dig out the caves after what happened, there was no way to get back inside. The ponies addicted to the crystals’ power fled north. Some became so overtaken by chaotic magic that they could have rivaled Celestia given more time, except they went mad. Whether it was that amount of power or the crystals themselves that drove those ponies to insanity, who can say.

And then, just like that, they disappeared. The crystals, the ponies, an entire empire, everything. Gone.”

A somber story, and not one I had heard from the Lady de Lis. Yet the crystal caves under Canterlot were still here. The ponies of old did not just forget the caves existed: they wanted to forget.

Some tragedies are not worth remembering.

One of Magick’s books had said crystals could amplify a pony’s magic to the point their coat glittered with their innermost desires, be they good… or evil. I shivered. “Are you not concerned that somepony could once again uncover these caves and relearn the magic that disappeared?”

“Some already know about these caves. No.”

“Why?”

“Because this is an age of tactics and cunning, not firepower.”

Magick held out a hoof to signal a stop. Before us was a single purple crystal no taller than my leg. It was placed intentionally on a pedestal in the center of the room we had entered. “I did not bring you here solely so you would know this place exists. We are here to locate the Captain of the Guard, and this divining crystal is going to help us.”

Magick lifted the glass covering the gem and pointed at it. “Place your hoof here.”

Without question I did so and my consciousness exploded. I tore my hoof from the gem’s surface, reeling from the images of castles and fields and magical lights spread out in a network over the face of the nation and moments in history lunging alongside that existence, past and present melded into one incomprehensible mass of layers. It was like looking at a map of Equestria, except the landscape was not small and tiny but right there in your face up close, all of it, all at once, over centuries.

“What…” I heaved as sparkling towers I’d never seen in my life rolled through my mind over a land of snow suddenly consumed by shadows, which were in turn replaced by sheets of ice. Points of light floated in my vision. Curls of blonde tickled my nose and I pushed my mane back in place. “You keep this here unguarded?”

“It belongs to the Princess. She knows when somepony uses it. Now, I need you to touch the stone again and reign in the history recordings while I search Equestria.”

The crystal amplified one’s ability to use a tracing spell, except it was impossible to do so alone because the noise of the imagery could not be tuned out. I would have to touch the gem again and contain the images so Magick could find one point of light in that enormous pony maelstrom.

I tensed. “How long do you need?”

“I have not done this in a very long time. I do not know.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. I was good at magic, but this was an excessive request. “I’m ready.”

Both of us touched the crystal and whatever I was disappeared in the mass of confusion. I latched my magic to the history and lost track of the points of light representing ponies. I was the air over Equestria. A great castle far more opulent than the one in Canterlot watched over an unknown land from its dusky towers at the same instant it collapsed into ruin and a forest devoured it, devoured the very land the castle once protected and grew and grew while the earth in front of it fell away and a white tower rose out of the remaining cliff: Canterlot. For a few days the sun did not rise. A thousand clouds floated over a mirage of tiny hamlets that were also roaring cities split into two likenesses, some halves familiar and the others ruled over by chaos, flipped over and under and inside out and covered in rainbows that were now darkness and rain made of sugar sprinkles pelting the cupcake-frosted ground. Cloudsdale was nowhere. It was one cloud. It was a billowing fortress of cloud homes. Harsh windigo winds ravaged an uncharted territory lively with forests and lush fields and the hot, grainy desert sands up against cool rocky mountainsides. Furious snow covered everything, burying fields and trees until the place was uninhabitable even for the toughest mountain sheep. For a few nights the sun did not set. Landmarks I’d never heard of, let alone seen, meshed with polished marble statues. The same river flowed next to itself. The Everfree Forest was a forest, but it was also an empire, but it was also a small town. The moon was a white rock. It was a pony. It was a faded patch of spots.

“Blueblood!” Magic shouted. As soon as I noticed the sensitive tingling on the bridge of my nose it turned into a burning rash. One of Magick’s sticks floated at the ready. I ducked and covered my muzzle.

“Ow,” I whined the second I touched the spot. It burned.

“Honestly,” Magick huffed. “You were out for nearly a minute after I pulled you off. It’s done.” Strands of her silver mane had slipped from the bun and her other black hairstick stuck at a lopsided angle. “Every trace of her magical signature is completely gone. I need to report this to Princess Celestia. She will need to find a new Captain of the Guard, or have the Royal Guard choose one for her.”

“That’s it?” I said, irritated. My teacher had lost one of her friends, and all she had to say was official correspondence to the Princess. There wasn’t a flicker of emotion in Magick’s response, and I knew it was not because she had any hope that her friend would come back one day. “You’re just going to give up?”

“Enough. We are wasting time. Let’s go back.”

I wrinkled my snout and tried to rub off the pain. How many times had she tried to snap me out of it with that stick? She could have tried shaking me, but no, she had to use her tiny, shock-infused weapons.

Magick said, “Prince Blueblood, I will see you tomorrow in my office when the sun sets.”

I barely heard the words. I could still see Equestria. I looked at the gem underneath the plain glass container, and I looked at the mare standing in a long-forgotten place saying things nopony should remember.

IX.

The next evening after I finished a meeting with a Zebra tribesmare who had come a very long way to visit Canterlot, Cumber saw me off.

“Goodbye, Prince Blueblood.”

Evening and night classes were in session at the School for Gifted Unicorns when I arrived. Despite the chilly fall air, a group of unicorns were observing the stars. A few others were out on the field taking the opportunity the cover of night gave them to keep an eye on the magic trails of their spells, which were harder to see during the day. I went directly to the top floor of the school and down the corridor to Magick’s office. She was already there, waiting among the knickknacks that cluttered her office. The space still had the appearance of being well-organized.

“Welcome. Please come in.”

There was no chair or cushion, so I stood and watched the backwards sand hourglass on Magick’s desk. Little white granules rose from the bottom of the glass and filled the top half.

Magick had her forehooves settled on top of a plain envelope resting on her desk. She also looked at the hourglass. Besides us, it was the only thing in the room that moved. "Given the circumstances, I believe it is time you knew your role in this game. Tell me, Prince Blueblood, do you know what makes Equestria different from other nations?"

My heart leapt at the horrible finality of the first part of that statement. Maybe I did not want to know what Magick was going to say. I steered back to answer her question. "There's no one thing, but I presume you are referring to the leadership structure. Princess Celestia has no equivalent in any of our neighboring nations. Not only does she have the final word by rule - she also has the power to back it up."

"Where do you think that power comes from?"

Obviously her tremendous mastery of magical energy. I said so.

Magick left the envelope and went to the floor-to-ceiling window where I could see Canterlot Castle’s swirling towers glowing under the night sky. She turned so I could not see her face and gazed into the dark. Night light illuminated the unicorn’s silhouette and cast a long shadow behind her. "Belief. The Princess’ true strength comes from the belief ponies have in her. Magic must come from somewhere, and for Princess Celestia it has and always will be the faith others put in her to guide, love, and protect them. Without that belief, she grows weaker. She may even cease to exist altogether, just as heroes and villains disappear when the legends forget them.

"Someday there will be a time when Princess Celestia is no longer needed, and she chooses to move on. This is not that time.

"There is a danger, one I am sure you are well aware of after studying with De Lis. Equestria is not like other nations because it does not have any mechanism for transfer of leadership. Princess Celestia has been our sole ruler for a very long time. In another land, the elite would grow restless and use the system to replace their leader. Here, there is no outlet for those emotions save a full scale revolt.

"Some of the elite in Equestria wish to become what the Princess is, to take her place for glory and fortune and recognition: not bad desires necessarily, but misguided in this case. These ponies wish to become part of the royal family, no matter the cost. They want to be the highest ranking nobility in the nation.”

A pony did not need to go to the town gossiper to know the young Princess Cadence received solicitations and outright declarations of love often.

Magick raised her head to see the sliver of moon in the sky. “But there is one way to humble those restless hearts, to remind them what is important in life. And so after much deliberation many, many years ago, Princess Celestia decided to invent a Prince.”

Invent? “What are you saying?”

“The truth is, Blueblood, you are not a prince. Your father was not a prince. There is no royal family. Your ‘parents’ held the role you will now assume. You were separated from your real family because they would have interfered with your training. It’s true there is some history on your mother’s side of the family that would have made you a duke eventually, but that was not enough. Nopony falls for a duke the way they do for a prince.”

I realized I was sitting on a cushion. At some point the impact of the shock had made me sit down hard, and Magick had made a cushion appear, knowing it would happen.

My parents…

It was all contrived…

I was not a Prince. I was a lie. Who was I?

The sand kept flowing into the top of the hourglass no matter where I fixed my gaze. Magcik locked eyes with mine and I could not look away.

“Now listen, because what I shall say next is very important. Everything you learned on how to behave: from now on, you are to do the exact opposite. Use what you know to abuse the rules."

Finally my confused outrage manifested into words. "Excuse me?"

The silver unicorn walked a circle around me, her eyes following me as she did so. “In order to scare every pony away from any desire to be a part of the royal family whatsoever, make them hate you. Make them believe you are a snob, Prince Blueblood. Remind them how valuable it is to be a pony who cares, and not one who is completely consumed by selfishness.”

I lifted a forehoof and stared at the powder blue surface. “You want me to… go against everything I am. You want me to intentionally push ponies away, until I have no friends and only enemies, until even my own family – the one you made me think wasn’t mine – is ashamed of me.”

“Yes.”

I was going to give up my identity. History would forever remember me as the unworthy scum of high society: an ignorant, offensive stallion determined to make life miserable for Equestria’s upper echelons. The only ponies who would ever know the truth would be me, Magick, and the Princess herself.

Does the truth matter if no one knows it?

I stared defiantly into the twin silver pools of old, bitter wisdom. “No,” I said. “I won’t do it.”

“Then you have condemned Equestria to misery.” The door to the Headmaster’s office flew open. “Go, and reflect on what you’ve done.”

She let me walk away so easily.

X. I Used To Be

I kept walking.

Magick’s annoying words ran through my head. Reflect on what I’ve done. Reflect on what I’ve done? I’ve done nothing!

How many “Princes” and “Princesses” had come before me? Was Princess Cadence serving a similar purpose? Why would any pony ever agree to such a thing? It was madness. Stupid, senseless madness.

A couple on a brisk walk in the fall night air steered well clear of me as I stormed down the street with no particular destination in mind. My steps took me to one of Canterlot’s larger parks and I went down the pathways illuminated by tall, ornate street lamps. I passed a unicorn wrapped in a scarf perched on a bench reading a book, her horn lighting the pages. A trio of earth ponies crossed paths with me, talking excitedly about the Canterlot Symphony’s performance earlier that night.

Why, the whole idea was absolutely idiotic: set up a pony to save Princess Celestia the trouble of dealing with uprisings by making ambitious ponies not want to be royalty? Excellent, because of course nopony wants to deal with the biggest jerk on the face of the planet, let alone be related to him. Stupid, stupid, stupid plan. There had to be a better way. For Sun’s sake, why not simply let the ponies depose Princess Celestia? Let Equestria be torn about by civil war and unrest, friend turned against friend, lovers parted, foals raised under a shadow of chaos and uncertainty and death. Foals and families and the future falling prey to that shadow. Maybe we’d had too much peace and we needed a reminder.

If what Magick said about belief in Celestia was true, then we would get that reminder as the Princess’ power waned and all her spells started to come undone.

I could only keep up the vitriolic ranting in my head for so long. Eventually it fell quiet. My feet took me through the city, past the galleries and shops long since closed, across dimly lit alleys and light leaking through closed blinds, through the low thrum of music and clinking of glasses at late night bars. Around me ponies went on with their lives, oblivious to everything outside their own tiny spheres.

I found myself near the military district, knocking on a door.

My father opened it and stared in surprise. “Blue? What are you doing here? Well don’t just stand there son, come in, come in.”

I sighed and hung my head as I came through the doorway. “Sorry father, I should have sent a messenger first but, well, I found myself in the area.”

“No need to be so formal about it. Your mother and I hardly get to see you enough as it is, not since Princess Celestia told us about what happened to your...” my father hesitated over how to say it, “other parents. We were sure surprised to hear you’d inherited royal magic as the result of their last wish.”

“Oh,” I said. So that was the story they’d been told. Two royal unicorns dying on a battlefield make a desperate wish and cast their magic into the aether, and it latches onto me.

My father wrapped a hoof around my shoulders. “No matter what you’re still our son. Doesn’t matter where your magic came from.”

“Do you mind if I stay here for the night?” I could not face that mansion again.

“Oh, well, of course," he said, surprised. “I’ll go make sure the guest room is in good condition. In the meantime you should go let your mom know you’re here. She’s in the living room.” He paused to mull over my sudden arrival. “You’re not in any sort of trouble are you? You look tired.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Two ponies at home, living happy and comfortable lives, and me.

A new day and a clear mind.

After breakfast I said goodbye, but instead of calling a carriage I walked through the city again and got lost in the morning routine. Pegasi flew in from Cloudsdale early to get a head start on the day’s weather patterns. A stallion sang a bright tune under his breath while trimming the hedges around one of the shops.

The sound of my slow hoofbeats was covered by the world around me. Aspiring students struggled to carry all of their supplies without spilling them over the white flagstones. Two guards stood like statues in front of one of the gates to Canterlot Castle. A businessmare glanced at her watch while she stood in front of a coffee shop and a colt scrambled past her, dragged on by a pack of excited dogs on leashes.

Canterlot was vibrant, alive, living in blissful ignorance on top of forgotten history packed like so much dirt under the alabaster stones on which ponies tread.

I was moving faster now, trotting down the lane. Smartly dressed ponies put out tables and chairs in front of cafés right in time for the early bird pegasi to sweep down and land gracefully in the open seats. On the path two fillies ran after their parents, jumping as high as they could to reach saddlebags their father held suspended in the air, just out of reach. Laughter.

I galloped.

The envelope was still sitting on Magick’s desk and the sands in the hourglass continued to flow upward. My arrival did not disturb the Headmistress, who was bent over a letter with a quill and ink. Not until she finished the sentence did she drop the plume into the inkwell and look up.

Maybe you were expecting some huge turn of events to make me change my mind, but in the end all I was thinking about was ponies going about their everyday lives.

Magick made no comment about my return. She acted as if nothing had happened. “Prince Blueblood, could you summon your dragon please?”

I blinked. “You can’t possibly mean that illusion I conjured up years ago? No, never mind, of course.” It was better not to question.

The spell was so easy I flinched in surprise to see the creature swimming in the air. Its golden whiskers drifted in rhythm to some invisible force and its curious eyes of blue flame burned bright. The snakelike dragon perched on the edge of Magick’s desk, as regal and intelligent looking as Celestia’s own Philomena.

Magick rolled up her letter. “If you would be so kind, hold on to that spell. This is correspondence to Princess Celestia regarding the entrance exam to her school.” The ethereal dragon turned its head and I watched Magick hold the letter out. It opened its mouth and spit cerulean flame, burning the letter to a crisp from top to bottom. Not even ashes remained.

I gaped.

Magick waited. “Give it a minute.”

True to her word, a moment later the dragon curved its neck backward as if preparing to take a bite out of Magick’s desk. Its head shot forward and a rocket of flame erupted from its mouth. The flames swirled into a circle and burst, revealing a rolled scroll with the golden C seal on it. Magick caught the document as it fell.

I held the magical link to the dragon. It yawned of its own accord and ignored my demanding voice directed at Magick. “You’re telling me I could have been doing this the whole time? What was that?”

“A direct line of communication to the Princess. If you are asking about the particular quality of magic, it exists in the realm of sending, opposite teleportation, and it is common to dragons. Usually it’s used on scrolls, but it will work with anything you can burn – minus the living, of course. To them it just burns.”

“So I could send letters to you, or anypony else I know?”

“For you, with practice that is likely possible.”

“Why does the spell take the form of a dragon?”

“He can hear you, you know. It’s not uncommon for higher level spellcasters to have a familiar: someone who chooses to aid them. Philomena is not just the Princess’ pet, you know. As to why yours is a magical phenomenon, that is a mystery even to me.”

Magical phenomena encompass a wide variety of creatures, including windigos, ghosts and timberwolves. They are sentient. The key difference is magical phenomena are not born from breeding, but from incredibly concentrated magic or emotion. Call them spirits, if you will.

I was startled. “Oh, erm, I suppose I should say thank you, then,” I told the dragon. “For this and the time before.”

The magical creature waved its spaded tail as if to say it was no big deal. I felt the link sever itself and the wisps of purple and gold outlining the dragon’s form dispersed into the air and disappeared.

I was still immersed in wonder at what had happened when Magick passed me the envelope. “This is for you.” Inside was a writ from Princess Celestia giving a certain Prince Blueblood unrestricted access to the Canterlot Archives. “As of now you are the true Prince of Equestria, and I free you to do whatever you wish. Should you require guidance – which I’ve no doubt you will – you may contact me via your familiar.”

The school master let out a long breath. Weariness slipped into her voice. “I know my ways are harsh, and I wonder if things might have turned out differently for you had it been Princess Celestia who took you under her wing. Perhaps it is for the best. These days trickery and deceit are almost nonexistent in the Princess’ repertoire. She would not know a Changeling if it was her closest advisor.”

Magick sighed and regained her strict composure. “Before you go, I have a task for you. I mentioned the entrance exam earlier, and I am one examiner short of four. Would you mind taking that place next week?”

I agreed.

Not once did Magick bring up the reason I returned to her office. She knew I was going to come back for one reason or another. Her ability to know how events would fall into place was uncanny. Before I left, I had to know.

“Who are you?” I asked. “Or perhaps the more appropriate question is: who were you?"

"A pony," she said. "A pony, just like you used to be."

XI. Sun

I stared at a table laden with appetizers while I considered what I was about to do: push past a trio of mares to get to the hors d’oeuvres behind them. My conscience begged me to walk around to the other side of the table, or excuse myself so they would step aside, or just use magic to reach the tiny foods.

I sighed and without further thought strode forward, bumping up against one of the ponies.

“Good sir, watch where you are going,” the mare said before she noticed who I was. “Oh, Prince Blueblood, dreadfully sorry.”

“My apolo - Oh,” I caught myself. No apologies. “Of course. I cannot blame you if you were too absorbed to notice me.” Your fault, not mine. “Really though,” I added with a smug, half-lidded expression, “How anyone could fail to see me coming is a mystery.”

A pink tinge crept over the mare’s cheeks.

I turned to the hors d'oeuvres. On the inside I was chuckling. How strange it was to be so brash. It was thrilling.

One of the mare’s friends noticed I was alone and said, “Perhaps you would care to join our conversation, dear Prince? We were just discussing which of these fine desserts would be suitable for a birthday celebration.”

“Mmm. No. I should think not.” Without waiting for their reaction I rudely turned and left.

Celestia’s stars this was weird.

I slipped out of the reception for the potential students and made my way to the tower where the exams were always held.

The organizer saw me approach. “Ah, Prince Blueblood. You are a bit early.”

That is fine, I don’t mind. Actually, in that case I think I shall go back downstairs and mingle a bit. Those were the words I wanted. My mouth said, “Yes, well, I would like to get this over with quickly.” I acted bored.

The pony looked confused, as if she’d been expecting better character from the Prince. “In that case, here is your clipboard. You may wait in the exam room if you wish.”

I swept the board and pencil up with my magic and looked at the evaluation forms clipped to it. There must be some mistake. I flipped through the pages. “What is this?”

Every sheet was blank.

“The exam is designed to measure magical ability. The best way to do so is to put students under pressure. These sheets are merely a prop. Of course, you may use them to take notes, but I think you will find it easy to gauge ability and potential with the impossible test we give each year’s entrants.”

I thought back to the dragon egg and the examiners scribbling on their papers and the terrible need to do something, anything.

The examiner added, “Nearly impossible test, anyway. Very few have actually succeeded at the task.”

Twilight Sparkle.

“This year it will be bringing a stone pony to life. Celestia save us if anypony succeeds.” She sighed. “Gaining a cutie mark during the exam means an automatic entry, but other than that please do your best to evaluate this year’s fillies and colts.”

I entered the room alone. No wonder Magick had set me up to this. Pretend to be a bored, angry, calculating pony: it was perfect practice.

I tapped the pencil to the board, thinking. Cold and calculating did not feel right. If I became known for that, Equestria would stay away from me out of fear. It would be harder to talk that way, harder to gain information.

I’d spent enough time around the world’s frippery to know there were many ways to be a snob. My instinct at the hor d'oeuvres table was to be overconfident and smug. There was potential there for my fake life to at least be entertaining. Very well, I would try the self-love stereotype.

For a year I developed that persona. In conversation I would turn the topic back to me or my interests. I became picky about my good looks, especially my light colored mane and coat. I played the market and invested my wealth, bringing in profits that I squandered on lavish outfits and social events and a private box at Wonderbolt derbies. My voice developed a suave, arrogant lilt. I made a fuss whenever I lost a game or did not get my way. I grew distant and uninterested in my friends’ lives. One by one, I watched the shade of doubt cloud the eyes of the ponies who used to enjoy my company. Yet no matter my attitude, I still had wealth and status and power. I was still the Prince. So they never left, not completely.

Only in heart.

I looked at the exquisite mural covering the grand entry of my estate. Celestia's sun radiated from a ceiling painted with her most clear blue sky. Swirling beams of light shimmered around pillars and the second floor balcony, trickling down the doorways lining the huge room.

"Get rid of it."

"But my lord," Cumber protested, "The Princess’ mural has been here for–"

"And what has the Princess ever done for me? She's never visited this manor. Get rid of it, Cumber. Paint white over it until you can find an artist skilled enough to envision a new one to my taste."

Cumber had the look of a rebellious bronco in his eyes.

"That's an order.” I'd argued long enough with him about the painting.

The black and white stallion went rigid but never lost the air of professionalism. "As you wish, your majesty."

I went to my study and began to review the stack of invitations I had sorted out of the regular mail. In ink penmanship I responded to several of the outstanding letters. I prepared to set them in the outbox for my staff to handle, but thought better of it. The pony express was such a common way to send mail. With a spark I summoned the sending dragon. Each letter disappeared in blue flame. Hopefully it was materializing in a shimmering blast in front of each recipient at this very moment. If not, well, I would find out at the door.

So Celestia wanted a monster. Oh, she would get one. She’d get the most magnificent, irritating bastard to ever set foot in Canterlot. And I would see an end to this nonsense.

When I woke that night it was from the pages of a book about griffin politics. They were quite unlike Equestria’s royal political setup, but I’d run out of leads on what to do to remove the need for a false prince. I lifted my head from the volume and my eyes stretched to the clock. Nine. I had fallen asleep after midnight, I was sure.

Baffled, I considered the possibility I had slept for sixteen hours straight. A spell of some sort? A drug?

Realization struck and I froze perfectly still, poised above the book. Confused footfalls sounded in the corridor, murmurs and worries whispered between servants. It was not nine at night. It was nine in the morning. Where was the sun?

Why hadn’t the sun risen?

XII. Moon

The world was still enshrouded in night when I scanned the page.

Legend has it that on the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape and she will bring about Nighttime Eternal.

Wouldn’t it be great if ponies thought to put dates on these things? I could only assume this was the thousandth year. Either that or the pony who recorded the legend put some random, nicely rounded number in there to stand for “a really long time,” and who knows how long it actually took for a night mare to escape the moon. I left Predictions and Prophecies and paced circles in the candlelight. The manor was silent. I’d given my staff the next forty-eight hours off.

It was already happening. Celestia’s magic was coming undone. Everything she had imprisoned would be released, every spell unraveled. If I had managed to restore Equestria’s faith in the Princess, this might never have occurred.

There was a tapping at my window. I opened the latch and a bat dropped a scrap of paper at my feet.

Ponyville.

That was Magick's one-word response to the query I'd sent by dragon fire. The Princess was in Ponyville. I’d sent a note to Celestia as well, but there had been nothing in return. This left me with two courses of action.

First, find the Princess. No doubt half of the country was trying to do that now. Their searching was likely in vain; Nightmare Moon had probably imprisoned her sister somewhere. The sun seemed a fitting place, but it was not as if I could look at it to check.

Second, find the Elements of Harmony. I was beginning to think it was no coincidence Princess Celestia had not only decided to celebrate the summer solstice in Ponyville, but also send her protege there. The little village was right next to the Everfree Forest. For as long as the night lasted, everything would converge on the place that used to be the capital of Equestria and where, supposedly, the Elements still were.

By the time my thoughts on those two options closed, I was already at my airship. There was no way I would be able to teleport to a place I had never been, even if I were magically capable of going so far in the first place. Flight it would be.

I stepped off the pier and into the simple basket. A single propellor extended from the back of the ship, and in no time it was whirling with ribbons of blue magic. Canterlot fell away, the streets full of ponies pointing and staring at the night sky. Nobody paid much attention to the simple airship flying through the dark.

Did I make it in time? Of course not. You already know that.

No, I made it to the forest and promptly got lost. The fog over the area was thick, the clouds were strange and pink, and I was forced aground at a clearing where the mist was thin enough for me to see. I lashed the basket to one of the trees and fumbled with a parchment that had a map of the area on it. Well, as close to a map of the Everfree Forest as you can get, anyway. I took the scrap of paper with me and set out into the woods to find a landmark.

Ten minutes later, I was tangled in a clump of vines. Feathering good the map was at that point.

I tried to yank myself free from the vines, but the more I struggled, the more ridiculous the situation became until I’d ended up with my chin in the dirt, one leg in the air, and the other three snared. Using magic had only caused the vines to grow thorns. If I hadn’t been so busy thinking about how to get out, I would’ve felt disgraced.

“Trapped by the forest’s wiles I see. If you’d cease your struggle you’d soon be free.”

Wonderful. Public humiliation has always been my favorite. I quit wrestling with the thorns and lay still, a furious blush starting to creep over the bridge of my nose. Surely only an idiot gets stuck in a plant.

Believing their prey to be dead, the vines loosened. I did not care to dwell on that thought and extracted myself. The jacket I’d been wearing was torn, my hair disheveled, my composure ruffled. I looked a right mess. I acted like it was any other day at Canterlot court, inspecting the red scratches raking my legs with disinterest. “My most gracious thanks.”

The zebra was eyeing the only thing untouched: the map I’d been holding aloft with magic the entire time. “Something tells me you are more than you appear to be. What brings a pony prince to the Everfree?”

“I see my reputation precedes me. And yet it is not I that walks such a place so carefree.” I couldn’t figure out why a zebra was all the way out here. Perhaps she was also searching for the Elements of Harmony? Her purpose here could be malicious. I had to be careful.

“Carefree?” The zebra raised an eyebrow. She seemed to be enjoying this. “That is hardly the word to describe one following a prophecy. Same as you, I’ve come quite a long way in anticipation of this day."

“That’s not right. I think you mean night.”

“Quite.”

I snorted in disdain. “If you are following the same tale as I, I must assume you’re a Zebrica spy. No matter to me, step aside if you please. There is some treasure I intend to seize.”

The striped mouth curled into a frown and her eyes turned cold. “You ponies are too quick to judge. You set your opinions and refuse to budge. I’ve no desire for your precious rocks. Take them if you can, selfish fox.”

“Fox!” I sputtered. “I’ll have you know I am of the highest royal breeding in all of Equestria, from the same line as Princess Celestia herself. Or have you not noticed the pristine white sheen of my coat?”

“In my country a prince is something one cannot see. Your inner fire defines what you are, not a pedigree.”

“Words like that mean little to me.” Oh, the irony. I decided to let the tribesmare remain a mystery. It was time to get back to the Elements of Harmony.

I took a step down the path, only to be interrupted by a satisfied laugh. The zebra informed me that I was too late: the shadows over the sun had already begun to dissipate. I threw my gaze past the tops of the trees to see if she was right. Sure enough, past the murky clouds came growing slivers of light. If Celestia was safe, then my next mission was to interrogate that black and white waif. Except when I turned around, I was all alone on the ground. The zebra was not there. She’d disappeared into thin air.

I stood near the golden gilt alicorn statue I was destined to one day knock over and watched ponies dressed in their formal attire go by. The group I was with continued gossiping.

“I hear her servants are all bats and she only comes out at night. Sparkling Whine says she saw her eyes, and they are soul-stricken hollows that brim black with nightmares.”

“That’s preposterous. The Royal Guards are tripping over themselves to serve her. Her beauty rivals that of the Northern Lights, her footsteps trail with stars, and she can’t go outside for fear of inspiring jealousy in Princess Celestia.”

“Beautiful, maybe, but utterly evil for certain. I don’t believe for one second this so-called Nightmare Moon would suddenly ask forgiveness. She is scheming something, I assure you.”

“Princess Celestia has managed better than fine for 1,000 years. What need do we have for another princess? She is irrelevant.”

Canterlot wanted to talk about nothing else.

“What say you, Prince Blueblood?”

“I’ve no quarrel with Princess Luna. Besides, with her younger sister at her beck and call perhaps Celestia will move some of the burdensome tasks imposed on me over to Princess Luna. Speaking of which, if you’ll excuse me. I have an appointment to make.”

The only burdensome task I had was being a hate target to distract ambitious ponies from Princess Celestia. But now with Princess Luna here, would I be needed anymore? Maybe I was free. Free.

Fleur de Lis saw my approach and steered away. She’d had an unpleasant experience with the Prince a while ago to the tune of being completely discarded for another “prettier” mare. That had been the week I acted a heartless beast toward every pony interested in me by suddenly abandoning them when the next famously good-looking pony showed up. Unfortunately for Fleur, it tended to be regular citizens around when we were out, which made it difficult to ditch her for someone more socially elite. As a result, the young mare got to spend more than enough miserable time with a stallion who couldn’t even be bothered to hold the door that he’d just walked through open for the pony behind him.

Fleur was too strong to bother with someone like that. I’d been tested and found wanting, so she kept away. Other mares were not so easily dissuaded. The fact they were willing to love my horrible attitude solely because I was wealthy and royal made me ill. It also made my task more difficult.

One of my admirers fell in stride with me and batted her eyelashes. “Oh Prince Blueblood, fancy meeting you here. I was just telling the Canter Times group over there how you so elegantly rescued me from tripping on the stairwell the other day. They’re not on duty of course, but you know how those news ponies are. I wouldn’t be surprised if your good deeds showed up in print soon.”

“It would be a smudge on my good image to have a pony trip nearby,” I said. “What if someone had been taking a picture, and I was caught with a flailing pony in the background? How dreadful.”

A part of me that felt farther and farther away as time went on laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. Blueblood was so arrogant he couldn’t be seen near a clumsy pony. But the mare said in her sensuous voice, “Oh, of course. It would have been scandalous. It is my fault for not being more attentive. I was simply so stunned by how golden your mane is that I did not see that first step.”

“Why thank you.” I could think of nothing to say to throw the mare off, so she trailed after me.

The Grand Galloping Gala was always insufferable in this way. Every summer, without fail, all of the wishful ponies gathered at the Gala to make their dreams come true, and I was supposed to make them reconsider what was valuable in their lives besides popularity. Gala tickets were so desirable they were sold out almost a year in advance. There was an endless supply of starstruck stallions and mares to reckon with.

“Prince Blueblood! Who is this lovely mare you have with you?” Upper Crust’s voice struck my ears. She was with her husband Jet Set, as usual.

“I haven’t been bothered to ask her name yet,” I said and kept walking without so much as a sniff.

The mare at my side giggled. “You have quite the sense of humor Prince Blueblood.” She thought I was joking that I didn’t remember her name.

I was barely paying attention to the party at all. The conversations about Princess Luna and who or what she was were too distracting. No one I knew of, including myself, had seen her. Some speculated she was not real at all. If she was indeed the Princess of the Night, why was the night sky the same as it always had been?

I had to know more. There was a new player in the game of royal politics. I would find Princess Luna and tell her who I was and ask for her help.

“No,” Magick said. “Absolutely not.”

“But she’s a princess! Do you keep secrets from the leader of your country?”

“All the time.”

I grumbled. This was going nowhere. “At least arrange for a meeting. I want to know who I am to deal with in the future.”

Magick hummed. “I cannot help you with that. Your concerns should lie elsewhere at the moment. Namely on the incarnations of the Elements of Harmony. The matter of Princess Luna has distracted this whole nation in terms of where the power is right now. I doubt anyone in Canterlot would recognize those six faces if they came to town. Save Miss Sparkle, of course. Her family is here.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” I waved a hoof. Fine folks they were. Her brother had replaced the late Captain of the Royal Guard. Strong magic must run in their bloodline.

“So what will you do if one of the Elements of Harmony decides to stage a rebellion?”

I burst out laughing. “Ah, Magick, excuse me, that’s quite funny.” I wiped a tear from my eye. “No, I don’t think there’s much any of them can do on their own without cooperation from the other five. I spent some time in the archives researching after Nightmare Moon was defeated. I’d be more worried about some poor soul recovering the Alicorn Amulet - and it hasn’t been seen for several hundred years!”

“We shall see.”

“Oh, stop being so ominous. I cannot figure out where you formed that habit, although I assume managing a school of squealing, magically overpowered unicorn children is not easy on the psyche.” On cue, a piercing hiss like a firework sounded from one of the classrooms on the floor below. “Perhaps you need a hobby. What are you going to do with your spare time this week?”

Magick cracked a smile. “The same as you. Try to catch a glimpse of Princess Luna.”

Blast it all. I was as curious about Princess Luna as everyone else. If I was closer to the castle I might see her. Combat practice seemed an excellent excuse to achieve that.

I had my carriage take me to the barracks. Celestia’s cloaking spell no longer affected me, so I entered the grounds as I was. Guards shot sidelong glances at my dapper attire, which today was bright red with an ornate gold pattern that matched the jewel-encrusted scabbard holding my sword. I had commissioned the sword to look decorative. As long as it was sheathed, anyone would think it was only there to make the outfit look better.

I went to one of the practice fields and watched two of the senior officers spar. Ever since Nightmare Moon, the guards had started being more rigorous with combat practice. It was tough to stay in shape when it was peaceful. Even the more experienced soldiers were holding mock battles these days, something I didn’t see very often when I was a colt coming here to be trained by the late Captain.

One of the officers, a white pegasus, saw an opening and cracked his spear at his opponent’s head. In an instant the pegasus fell flat, his own spear pointed at his exposed throat.

I hung my belt and scabbard on a nearby weapon rack. “May I test my strength?”

The officer who’d won the bout, disguised as a gray earth stallion guard, looked at me with cold eyes. “Prince Blueblood, if you are interested in entertaining yourself I might ask you to go practice with some of the new recruits. I’d advise you to not bother sparring with me, but I will not deny your request if you insist upon dueling.” The guard brandished the spear in his forehoof. “Do you still wish to fight?”

“Yes. A moment, please.” I finished equipping a set of battered practice armor. A wooden sword flew in front of me as I stepped into the fighting space.

I saw my opponent's stance shift when he realized I knew enough to put the armor on properly and hold a weapon with magic finesse. His spear was held at ready. He intended to beat me quickly and get my humiliation over with.

Oh? So he wasn’t going to let me win just because I was the Prince. Heh.

His voice was steady, commanding. “The rules are: no use of magic to bring in additional weapons, and no striking a defeated opponent.”

“Tch. I was taught to fight dirty. In war there are no rules.”

“You’re not at war now. You’re in Equestria. En garde!”

The officer caught the spear in his mouth and charged straight for me. As a unicorn I was vulnerable because I couldn’t teleport. If I did I wouldn’t be able to recover from my dizziness fast enough to fight back. No matter.

The spear swung at me and I blocked it with the sword. The officer was strong enough to overcome my magic; I could feel him pushing the sword back with brute force. I put some distance between myself and the weapons and pulled the sword away just as he switched the spear to his hoof and took a jab at my armor. Because I’d foreseen the attack it fell short. He pulled the spear back in time to block the swing I’d taken at the plated armor along the back of his neck.

His reflexes were good. As long as he had that weapon it would be difficult for me to win. I wrapped my magic around the spearshaft and pulled, but the officer had fought enough unicorns to know that trick. He grounded his stance and held the weapon so I wouldn’t be able to lift him into the air. As an earth pony it was easy for him to resist levitation spells.

I could fire a magic bolt at him, but if he dodged I would hit something else.

The thought disappeared when the officer yanked the spear free and smashed it into my left side. I was too quick to take the hit, though. The attack bounced off a thin magic shield with a hum.

Again he pressed me into close combat where unicorns were typically at a disadvantage. If I kept using magic shields I’d burn my reserves and they would shatter, so I was forced to defend with my sword. Blocking his reach weapon was a challenge with just the sword, but that was the point.

There - an opening. He picked up one forehoof to hold the spear. All I had to do was pull the other out from under him and I’d have my sword at his throat in no time.

The moment passed. I parried another swing.

I saw the final blow coming. The dull end of the spear slammed into the base of my neck where the centerpiece of the practice armor was. I gave the officer a second and he turned the weapon around to point the dulled iron tip at my throat. “Well fought," he said. "I must say I’m surprised.”

After the match I was free to wander without seeming too suspicious. I made the rounds of the military complex and the princess was nowhere to be found. The night fell, but I wasn’t ready to give up my search yet. If I were reclusive and wanted to get out of the castle, where would I go?

The gardens, at night, away from the places where lovers might be strolling. I passed by the statues and beds of flowers and made my way to the one place I never bothered to go: the castle labyrinthe. In some places these mazes were supposed to be relaxing, and by going one way or another you would come across areas with outdoor furniture or a gazebo or fountain. Canterlot’s maze was a puzzle, a psychological challenge. It stretched over the hills toward the mountains. In the distance you could see several towers with different colored flags atop to help you mark your location. There was no telling what you might find inside the maze.

It was easy to imagine Princess Celestia coming here to get lost for a few days - or, perhaps, to send ponies into when they needed to get lost.

I’d never seen anypony enter the labyrinth. The moonlight guided my steps past the towering flags and onto the path. If I didn’t need to use my magic to light the way, I wouldn’t bother. Not if I might need it later to send up a flare for somebody to come get me.

I kept along the left wall and walked through the maze for a long time. There was nothing, only hedges. I wondered if I was walking in circles and suspected this labyrinth would be designed to fool the ponies who stayed along one wall, or at the very least make them take the longest route to the exit.

That was when I noticed the blue light coming from around another blind corner that I could not see around. I would have to turn the corner or go back, but I already knew I’d found what I was looking for. There was no reason for any pony other than Princess Luna to be out in the maze at this hour, alone.

I peered around the hedge without making a sound. There, in the night glow, I saw a reflecting pool spread out over the deep blue-green grasses of the opening in the maze. Carefully placed smooth stones ringed the pool and a tree with drooping branches swept over the far end of the area. There, in the glow cast by her horn, was Princess Luna. I froze and felt my chest tighten as my heart dropped in shock. Everything I had thought about her was wrong. Everything the others had imagined was wrong.

She was small and weak, like a broken pony who has spent too long thinking over a past they could do nothing to change. This was no goddess. Her mane did not flow like Celestia’s. Her legs were thin and lacked the brilliant gilt with gold shoes her sister had. She wore no royal attire, no crest of Equestria, no garment at all. Her dark cutie mark spread over her hindquarters in a way I had never seen, like a disease. A mark like that did not happen naturally.

I knew now why the night sky looked the same as it always did. Princess Luna did not have the strength to raise the moon.

The Princess’ voice cracked as if it had not been used in a very long time. Her speech was old and antiquated. “Who goes there?” There was no command in it. I should have been frightened that she knew I was there without looking. I felt the slight urge to walk away and disappear.

My chance left when Luna turned her head and she targeted me with her sea green gaze. Her eyes were tired, cold, and hard. When she blinked, they disappeared into the darkness of her coat. Makeup would have accented her eyelids, but as she was now all she had to do was turn off the glow emanating from her horn and close her eyes and she would be a shadow that could disappear into the night.

“Who is important enough to interrupt my moment of reflection?” There was an edge to the voice this time. Pinpricks ran up my spine.

I came out from behind the hedge, moonlight striking my white coat and making me stand out like a star on a black canvas. There was nowhere to hide. I bowed my head. “I am Prince Blueblood.”

The Princess stood but made no sign of advancing in my direction. “Equestria has no princes.” She dipped her head in a slight bow anyway. I could see how thin her neck was. She straightened again and looked at me. “No. Equestria had no princes. But you, you have no wings that we can see. Does our sister have children? Have we been away for so long that this has come to pass?”

I looked from side to side, but Princess Luna was the only pony there that I could see. Then I understood: she was using the archaic royal ‘we.’

“No, Celestia does not have children. I am an heir of royal magic,” I lied. “It was imparted to me when my parents died.”

“We are not sure we understand,” Luna hesitated before she added, “Prince. Yet there are many things we no longer know about this world. There are also things which we recognize, yet they are buried under the surface of centuries of time.” The princess paced a few steps along the length of the pool. Her reflection followed her, and the light from the moon outlined her folded wings to reveal how bony and tattered they were. “Our apologies if this is your place to come and reflect on the past. We shall go further into the maze where no one shall see us.”

“This is not my place. I did not mean to disturb you.” I was scared. Her weakened physical condition frightened me. I had never been in a war, never seen the effects it could have on ponies, never imagined the possibility that in the sacrifice I made with my life, I, too, could become an empty shell like that. Perhaps not physically, but in my mind. Would I become warped and twisted as well?

I began to back away and the horror gripped me. I turned and fled. I couldn't look at that husk of a spirit any more.

Eventually I realized I was quite lost, thanked my sensibility on not using magic to illuminate my night stroll, and instead spent it on a flare to the maze towers. A stallion with a compass rose for a cutie mark emerged from the hedge wall and greeted me. “Need some help there, eh Prince?”

I held my head aloft. “This maze is too easy for me. I am a bit hungry and I don’t want to waste more of my time walking the rest of the way to the exit. Might I take a shortcut?”

“Alrighty then. Here we go.” Pony-sized squares opened up in the foliage all the way to the castle. I hadn’t known I was so deep in the maze. My escort walked me back to safety.

Author's Note

Apologies for abandoning the story here! It's rare that I don't finish a story, but this one didn't command the type of interest my others do. These days I write everything in advance so it's not left unfinished.

Sorry for the rambling. I presume you’ll have skipped most of those chapters and stopped here where the writing looks different.

I firmly believe that even though there are many things wrong with this world in which we live, it is constantly improving. And so I write this knowing that I am the last of my kind, a dying breed.

And I can hope that you are reading these final words long after I’ve gone, that finally Equestria’s leaders have seen fit to let this story escape whatever secret place it’s been hidden. I can dream this is the case.

But I failed, don’t you see? I failed.

My final request was this: to write the truth and turn it over to Princess Celestia with the knowledge that only one other would see it. That the only other to read this journal is the next protector of Equestria. The one who will take my place. You.

It’s you.

I. A Brief History of the Marvelous Prince Blueblood

I was born in Canterlot.

But wait, let me back up a bit. I simply must congratulate you, for you are either incredibly crafty or I have been dead some years now. Oh, I can only imagine what the latter must feel like. Great Prince Blueblood, the pony who cannot be shamed, silent? Why, Canterlot must have breathed a sigh of relief when I passed.

And if I am still alive, then shame on you! Invading another pony’s privacy for the sake of your wretched imagination. What might you be expecting to find, then? A long list of the Prince’s fiery, flippant love conquests? Fodder for your unsightly gossip column? You’ll find neither. What I’ve written ‘twixt these pages is naught but haughty word drivel; an account of all my great accomplishments, none of which feature the passionate love or delectable rumor you seek.

By all means, no harm will come to you if you return this whence it came. Likely I’ll not even notice it went missing these few seconds you’ve been reading. But please do put it back. I’d hate to lose this mirror of words I gaze at when I become bored of my glorious figure looking back at me in the glass.

Speaking of, I shall describe myself with these pithy things you call words. Mere text has no grounding on such an exquisite equine as myself, but it would be cruel to leave no image of my beauty behind for posterity. My coat shines with the divine light of Celestia’s great sun, clean and smooth enough to blind the most pure soul. It is only in my careful attention to grooming that I’ve avoided this particular catastrophe. Any noble will whisper their shock at this Prince’s resplendent, spotless white fur (white was always such a color as to be cursed with, they’d say), and yet I put myself through great efforts to make it presentable without letting it shine. It wouldn’t be proper to outshine the Goddess of the Sun, after all. Right. I think that did it. I imagine the troublemakers will have closed this book and replaced it by now, expecting I continue talking about myself through this entire paragraph and into eternity, until my face is as blue as my name. As for those of you still here, consider the previous a direct look into that notorious noble known as Prince Blueblood, what he must have been like, thought like. Studying from a primary source, as they say. None of that secondary source nonsense.

The truth is I'm sick of talking about myself. I decided I'll do it this one last time.

I was born in Canterlot, but I was not born a Prince. In fact, I’m actually a Duke, but we’ll get to that later. (Should I write I ‘was’ a Duke? This is all a bit strange I’m afraid.)

Perhaps I shouldn’t have revealed that just yet. The specter of my mentor looms over me in my private study, daring me to slip up so she can rap me across the nose like the good old days. ‘Never reveal your cards,’ she’d say. Or, ‘Why expect the reader to keep reading when you’ve given them nothing to read about?’

Very well then. I’ll hold a secret or two back to keep you interested. Because you deserve to know everything.

Equestria is not what you thought it was, and neither am I.

VI. Lessons for a Prince

"Cumber, I should like to buy an airship."

"My good Prince, you are a bit young to be flying."

"Not to use of course, just to look at. Right now seeing that empty harbor every day is like visiting an apple farm with no apples." In truth, I could count the days to when I would be able to fly an airship on my own. I wasn’t much of a colt anymore.

"It is ultimately your decision, but your funds aren't that large."

I reviewed my astronomical budget in my head. "False."

"I see you've mastered the ledgers."

"Don't try to change the topic."

"And learned to outmaneuver me. Very well, you may buy whatever pleases you, so long as you can get permission from Magick to participate in public life long enough to shop for one."

"Never mind, I didn't want an airship anyway." Not that badly.

We lapsed into a silent stroll through the garden. At length I said, "Sooner or later this must end. I'm sure by now Equestria sees me as a shut-in, not to mention elitist, given those who I am allowed to speak with are officials or foreign dignitaries. I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions."

"Then you shall have no trouble at the banquet tonight."

Ah yes, the banquet. A letter from the Princess a few weeks prior had instructed me to host a banquet to bring together three separate nations to try and improve the relationships between them. It was the first time I would have so many individuals at my estate at the same time. Perhaps I should focus on that and return to my need for more free will later.

Several hours later I was alone in my master bedroom, by which I mean I had one attendant waiting on me.

She stood by the door while I reviewed my reflection in the mirror. The military training had done away with the scrawny colt. Instead there was an almost full sized white pony with combed mane and a smart purple and gold embroidered jacket.

I used my magic to pull a rose from a vase by the mirror, stripping the thorns in the process. The red petals faded to a shade of light blue. I pinned the corsage to my lapel and went down to greet the guests.

"A lovely touch," my attendant commented about the flower as I passed. "It goes with your eyes."

"Thank you."

The Saddle Arabians were naturally the first to arrive in an extravagant zeppelin pulled by a train of pegasi with graceful long legs and wings common to their race. Saddle Arabians looked almost horse-like, but it was a horrible offense to say so. Both horses and Saddle Arabians would become enraged if they thought somepony could not tell the obvious differences between them.

I greeted the young ambassador and her husband, along with several royals.

"Prince Blueblood," the ambassador returned the greeting. The tassels on her decorative bridle swayed as she spoke. "If I may have a word with you before the social hour is over."

Behind us the chariots from Canterlot were arriving.

"Of course." I dipped my head. "Perhaps now is best, before I go to greet the others."

"Very well. We've had some unusual disturbances in the kingdom related to Changelings as of late."

This was surprising news, given Changelings kept to themselves and lived quite far from Saddle Arabia. "That is odd. Nothing serious I hope?"

"We managed to banish them back to the wastelands. At least I may have some peace of mind knowing you have no such problem here, else we may have had a widespread infestation on our hooves."

"Have you spoken with the griffons?"

The Saddle Arabian ambassador to Equestria stiffened ever so slightly. "No. I was hoping to do so tonight in lieu of my colleague, who could not attend the occasion."

An interesting aside about griffons and Changelings: because the two share the same territory so-to-speak, it is not uncommon to hear scholars wonder if griffons are coldhearted and warlike because the Changelings feed on love. In truth griffons are as "civilized" as anyone else, and most of their battles are for sport, like jousting is for the Crystal Empire.

Changelings on the other hoof...

I bowed out of the conversation. "I will keep what you have said in mind. If you'll excuse me, I must greet the guests from Canterlot." As I welcomed each group of classy equines, the number of those filtering in to the great hall of my estate grew. Inside they would be able to entertain themselves with hors d'oeuvres and live music.

Well, that would be the case if the musicians had arrived, and at the moment I was starting to feel anxious. I'd almost run out of ponies to talk to on the front lawn when a mare pulling a carriage came tearing down the lane. She slowed so as not to alarm anyone and pulled up as close to the front doors as possible. Cumber took charge of the situation from his post at the door and I was surprised to see three, not two musicians exit the carriage.

I gave a small cough and used my magic to pull a white kerchief from my coat while one of the four ponies I was talking to went on about an up and coming high society pony named Fancypants. I dabbed my mouth with the kerchief and pretended to be distracted while I observed the extra musician. She was young, not older than myself, with a gray coat and dark mane. She would've seemed colorless but for the striking violet eyes that matched the treble clef cutie mark. Given the news I had just heard about Changelings I was unnerved by a pony I did not recognize, but the threat turned out to be nonexistent. One of the ponies in the two-piece ensemble was tutoring her and wanted her to network while her hooves were not full with an instrument for once. He apologized for not notifying us in advance.

At any rate, the griffons arrived late as always, right after the social hour ended and everyone convened in the dining hall for dinner. Now, ‘invite Saddle Arabians, Equestrians, and Griffons to the same function' was not exactly my idea of a safe plan, but it was thus far the only instruction I’d had from the Princess. With that on my mind I took my place in the dining room.

It was hard for me to see everyone from the head of the table that could comfortably fit about 40 guests. I was too young to be doing this, and greeting higher ranking officials as an equal earlier felt incredibly awkward. I ignored the urge to nibble at the blue rose pinned to my lapel. The first time I had done so in public, Cumber gave me a glare so terrible the nervous habit died before it ever had a chance to begin.

Tense, low conversation hummed around the immense table while each of the three groups tried to sit segregated from each other and failed. In the end the Saddle Arabians sat on one side and the Griffons the other, with the Canterlot ponies dotted here and there as the inevitable, uncomfortable go-betweens. It was my job to try and make this dinner survivable for everybody, so I cast a frantic eye at the gray music pony and she seemed to understand: the music resumed a few minutes after I began my formal welcome by ringing a small bell next to my table setting.

"Thank you all of you for being able to attend on such short notice. Now I know our three nations have not been on the best of terms lately, and yet all of you here at this moment chose to show up for a simple social and dinner together. So for the next hour there will be no talk of national affairs or internal problems and no mention of past grievances. Talk about anything else. Talk about your family, your childhood, the activities you enjoy doing, the foods you cannot stand. Look at the person across from you. You probably know nothing about each other. Please try to learn something new about that person tonight. That is all. Thank you."

The mood in the room had shifted from avoidance to stiff curiosity. At least for an hour many of the creatures here would set aside the anger they had for each other because of something ancestors they never knew did.

My staff brought the food out, and the rest of the meal was pleasantly uneventful. Due to the width of the table the ponies and griffons were required to speak up, and while no one moved from their half of the table to the other in order to hear better, I did notice the extra volume meant it was easy for groups to talk to one another over their dinner as opposed to the usual chatter with the left or right conversation partner. We weren't going to win any battles today, but it was a start.

Later that night after the last guest had left and ponies were busy cleaning up, Cumber approached me. "Well done Prince," he said. "You pass."

I had suspected it was some sort of test from the Princess. "If I may ask, what was I being tested on?"

Cumber's ability to keep a butlery appearance at all times always amazed me. "The Princess was seeing if you would get through the night without starting an international war. Do not look so alarmed. Yes it was a risky situation, but you were ready. Do you know why?"

I considered it and could not think of any one thing in particular. "No, I'm afraid I do not."

"Because you believed."

Behind us silverware clattered as a pony collected the utensils and tossed them into a washing bin. The wheels on a serving trolley squeaked. Plates stacked together clacked and staff members chattered about how unusual the griffons were and other snippets of gossip.

Cumber explained, "You believed in the possibility that species could set aside their differences for a short period of time. If you weren't sincere in that hope, then the likelihood your words would have succeeded in capturing everyone's curiosity is small."

"I suppose it is the same as an insincere apology, then. It is easy to tell when someone does not mean what they say."

"Of course. If you do not care about the words you speak, ponies will sense it. So either you must care, or you must make yourself care by learning why it matters or accepting a different point of view.” Cumber's eyes twinkled. "There is an alternative if none of those is possible. Be an excellent liar."

"Again," the Captain ordered.

I fired at the target on the basement wall. A weak blue beam streamed from my horn and touched the stones. I had my eyes rolled up as far as I could to see where the end of the beam was. Hopefully one day I would have an instinct for where the line hit, but for now I had to go by sight because I had no sense for where a straight line from my horn went.

The blue light traced a wobbly path from the wall to the target. A tail of smoke rose out of the target's outer ring. My mind felt like it was crawling with ants and I wanted to yell or scratch. The sensation became unbearable and the beam shuddered on and off and then died. The target had a charred smudge on it, like a fire slug had crawled three inches and gotten bored.

"Again."

I wrinkled my snout in anticipation of the crawling feeling. The Captain wasn't giving me any recovery time now, so at least my head was in the right position. I cringed and shot again, ants rushing into my brain. The beam struck the target and I let go. A hole smoked near the center.

My neck felt stiff and I lifted my head and shook it off. The Captain was not impressed even though after so many tries I had finally gotten this far. "Again."

I had the royal right to pitch a fit, but it would get me nowhere. I needed to learn this. Once more I aimed my horn at the same target and pulled at the magic, sending an azure shaft straight into the wall. I missed. I shifted my weight onto my right forehoof and ground it against the flagstones in irritation.

The Captain said "again" in the same tone he'd used the entire time. If his purpose was to make me angry, it was working. Again. Again. Again.

Spitting on the ground would be an improper way to express aggravation, so I balled the frustration up and weaved it into the spell, merging magic with emotion like the advanced spell books said to do. For the most part my feelings raged uselessly, but I felt the network of magic in me quicken a little. I bit down at the physical exertion this spell required, lowered my head, and fired. This time a strong blue beam went straight from the tip of my horn into the target. It was over quickly: a proper magic shot.

"That will do for now."

A bead of sweat trickled past my ear and I rubbed it away. I'd gotten the spell right, hadn't I?

"You need to learn to channel your emotions. Now come, Princess Celestia wants to see you and we can't keep her waiting or she will become suspicious."

I wondered in fright why she would be suspicious. Was the underground training facility something she was not aware of?

The Captain sighed and opened the way to the surface. Without his spell I could be trapped in the room indefinitely. "It was a joke."

And that is why military officers should never tell jokes.

Princess Celestia was indeed waiting for me outside the guard compound. Unlike the first time, when I'd been filled with excitement, now I only felt apprehension. What did she want? Was I doing something wrong? What was I supposed to be doing anyway? These thoughts bubbled in my mind as I stepped over the invisible threshold where my guard pony glamour began to fade until I was a regular old unicorn again. For some reason the magic didn't do that with the other guards.

I was standing in front of the ruler of Equestria. "Ah, oh, excuse my bad manners Princess. Good evening." I sank down on one foreleg in a deep bow befitting the ruler of Equestria. It had gotten late without me noticing in the underground chamber. "I am a bit surprised you wanted to see me," I said without lifting my head. "Is there something I've done wrong?" The worry slipped out of my mouth before I could reign it in.

"No," the Princess chuckled, "and you needn't worry about being so formal just now. There is nopony here who would be offended." I righted myself and opened my eyes to see the Sun's slightly mischievous smile. Indeed there was nopony around, save a few guards on duty who had no interest in royalty. Celestia turned. "Walk with me."

I had not been to the castle garden since I was barely a colt. Stone and marble depictions of famous ponies weaved in and out of sculpted bushes and beds of flowers. The garden was a popular destination for school field trips. It reminded me of the days I had friends and was not shut up in a secret room somewhere studying.

The alicorn who had lived over a thousand years tried to make casual conversation with me. It was so absurd as to be laughable. Imagine all of the things she could have said!

She spoke as any friend would. "How are your studies going?"

“They are going well,” I said, drawing the words out as does a pony who is not inclined to elaborate. I watched the falling sun cast orange glows on the statues in the castle garden. Surely Princess Celestia would need to raise the moon soon.

“It does not sound as though you are enjoying it much.”

“Oh, no, that’s not it at all. I love learning, it’s simply I don’t know what I am learning all of this for. Learning for the sake of learning is fine, but I believed the knowledge would also be useful. Can you not tell me anything more now that I am caught up in the promise I made all that time ago?” I looked at the Princess, but she had moved her head to see some distant spot in the sky.

“I can only say that we will need you more than ever soon. Too soon. Not soon enough.” She stopped walking and turned to face me. Long shadows drew sharp accents around her tired features, the features of a pony who has fought too many battles alone. My glimpse of that expression was fleeting, as it disappeared when the Princess spoke: “I am sorry I have not been able to meet with you sooner. I wish I could personally teach every pony who wanted to learn, but it’s not to be.” Celestia smiled. “And yet I have no worries, because for as many ponies as there may be, there will also always be those who guide others and those who need no guidance, only experiences to learn from. So I know you will be fine without me.

"Before long your path will become clear, and when it does, I am not certain we will ever be able to talk like this again. Is there anything you would like from me before we part ways?”

I was Equestrian royalty. There was no material thing I did not have that I could not purchase if I wished. My eyes drifted to the empty spot in the eastern sky. “Do you miss her?”

“Every night.”