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The barracks was cold. The thick stones walls keeping the heat out and the cold in. Jorah shivered a bit as he removed his armour. He would soon forget about the cold as soon as he got back to his paperwork.

He sat as his desk and sighed, running his hoof through his greying mane. The desk was scattered with various papers, colour coordinated files which enclosed details of various crime scenes within Equestria. On either edge of the table was a candle, spreading a shallow and warm light over the desk, illuminating the hand written reports. One file in particular caught Jorah's eye and he picked it up. It described details of a pony within Canterlot Castle who had been speared by a Royal Guard member. There was a direct inquiry into whether or not it was exactly necessary for such action to have taken place. The injured pony in person was a serial offender, a pony by the name of Dexter. He had proved to be a nuisance for a long while in the Castle. As a member of the catering staff, he would often steal large amounts of silver cutlery and exotic dining sets. Completely undetected for what was estimated to be about three years, until he was caught in the act. Hearth's Warming Eve, four months ago. He was found stealing a gold plated candle holder from the hall. The pony tried to run when he knew the jig was up, but was pursued by two Royal Guards. Dexter soon found himself cornered and surrendered, just before one of the Royal Guards  impaled him in the shoulder with his spear. Now, it got complicated when the guard claimed he had failed to slow down in time, and that it was a complete accident. There was one other witness who testified in favour of the stabbing culprit, but as a fellow Royal Guard it was likely that he may simply be taking the side of his colleague. Dexter was very nearly killed that day, losing a lot of blood as one of his vital arteries was severed, so it was essential that justice is served. Jorah was almost absolutely convinced that the Royal Guard did not slip. They are issued with heavy duty horseshoes which would prevent such typical accidents. From the details of the account written up by another investigator, the floor had not been damp either. It was pretty open and shut. The guard did not slip and decided to impale the thief in the spur of the moment. Unjustified action with an unjustified consequence. Alas, he would have to do some investigating into the pony in question. His spear had still been remanded, the blood still on it. Maybe the depth of the wound could give Jorah an idea of exactly how fast the Royal Guard was going, and just how much force he put behind his thrust. An insight into the pony may help the investigation as well. If he is known to have a history of violence or a short temper then Jorah was pretty sure that might explain the entire unpleasant ordeal.

Jorah jotted a couple of notes down on the file and put it to rest before moving onto the next. Jorah enjoyed this, getting to the bottom of things. He considered it extra curricular work but really he was the only one who showed any interest in it. Someone had to mop the floor. Jorah's duty as Lieutenant didn't get in the way of his free time too much, which he was thankful for, not at all like Maverick, who practically had to babysit Princess Luna most of his waking hours. Jorah loathed Maverick for the first few months of his captaincy, but had slowly grown to respect and even love the young Captain. He had things that Jorah most certainly didn't. Jorah was mundane, boring and too focussed of his work. Maverick however had charisma, a warm character and an optimism which earned him not just the respect of his fellow colleagues but the respect of many ponies throughout Canterlot. But Maverick was more of a fighter than a representative. Yes, he could speak to an audience with nobility and confidence but everyone who knows him knows that isn't his true strength. His strength comes from the leadership he shows in the face of danger, the courage he blesses others with. Maverick became Captain because he was seen as an essential aspect of the Royal Guard. Princess Luna had told Jorah of his value to the kingdom, which he had appreciated. Sometimes he wondered if he had made it perfectly clear to Maverick that he wasn't as jealous of he may have apparently been when he first became Captain. That ship had sailed now. If it comes up, he'll be sure to mention it.

The room seemed to be getting colder, so Jorah went to light a fire. He wished he had some magical ability. He knew unicorns could heat up a room in a matter of seconds, but an Earth Pony like Jorah would have to resort to more traditional means. With a flint and tinder, he created a small fire which scorched the dry wood within the fireplace. It soon rose and Jorah felt a sea of warmth rush over his freezing body. He stood on his hind legs and rested his fore legs onto the mantle piece of the fireplace, allowing the underside of his body to experience the soothing heat of the flames. He was content.

*****

Jorah had pulled up a chair near the fire and was reading. The book was simply called Military and was practically a bible to Jorah. Written several centuries ago by Wing Commander Hurricane, before the nation of Equestria was formed. Commander Hurricane wrote with vigour and portrayed war in a way which made it calculating and decisive, not barbaric and chaotic. The pegasi were strong believers in fighting many centuries ago, with one of the largest military forces in the world. But, that military force soon seemed to disintegrate as relationships between the pegasi and the unicorns began improving. The military force of the pegasi soon gave way to the such side projects such as the fabled Wonder-bolts. The Wonder-Bolts were used as a weapon initially. But since no wars were being fought, members of the organisation soon began performing in their free time. They very quickly gained the attention of many pegasi, and soon the attention of earth ponies and unicorns alike. The rest is history.

Jorah found that as he read, more and more chapters seemed to open out beyond the book that he was reading. Which was, in many ways, very similar to warfare. To understand one thing you must understand another, and to understand that you must first understand this. It was Jorah's sister who had pushed him onto reading. She was nowhere near as successful as Jorah but she appeared to be much happier. Mel had always stuck with Jorah, although being much, much younger. His grumpy attitude had never put her off. Jorah didn't have any other family besides Mel, not since their parents died. The details of their deaths were disturbing, and Jorah believed it was best to keep the truth from Mel. Jorah's father had been a blacksmith of the royal armoury, which is how Jorah got coaxed into the military in the first place. His mother was a librarian in the royal Canterlot Library. Jorah never saw her much, the library was open at all hours of the day so he only ever saw her on weekends. Jorah was helping in father in the smith once when he got bored and ran off to find something else to do. Before he left, he took a blunt sword from the weapon stand and began playing with it outside. A member of the Royal Guard came over and insulted his fighting style, so Jorah took a swing. Turns out the Royal Guard was just looking for a play fight, but he was very impressed with Jorah's ability. He recommended him to the Sergeant at the barracks and, when Jorah came of age, he joined up straight away. He loved the military. The control behind it, the perfection of the entire organisation, it was quite remarkable. Jorah worked his way up the ranks to become Sergeant of an entire platoon. He was a good leader and a fantastic teacher and his squad excelled beyond most others, many of the soldiers going on to earn promotions and recommendations. One of those soldiers included Maverick. Maverick very quickly caught up with Jorah in the ranks until they became firm allies. Jorah had been a Lieutenant for about 2 years before Maverick finally caught up. It wasn't long afterwards that Maverick achieved Captaincy after Shining Armour's death. An irritated frown appeared across Jorah's face.

*****

Jorah lay half-heartedly in bed. Sunlight was still shining in through his bedside window. He wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon. He knew that. There was a lot on his mind anyway. The Princess, Equestria, the Economy. Jorah wished there was something he could do to fix everything, but that was a stupid wish. Rather then dwelling on what you wish you could do, dwell on what you know you can do. But Jorah had no idea what he could do.  He felt he had an idea however of what he should do. He'd been meaning to ask Princess Luna about it for a while now, but there was no doubt in Jorah's mind that Luna was already doing everything she could to redeem the situation. Princess Luna was wiser than most people realised, and her true character certainly became apparent when she took control of the kingdom single handedly without protest. The problem was, ponies were so used to a form of structure and schedule in Equestria that now that the natural order of things has been disturbed many ponies were quick to blame Luna for the results. The truth of it was that when Luna was only raising the moon, she always had plenty of time to recuperate her strength. Raising an entire celestial entity on your own is a phenomenal feat. One that only she and Princess Celestia could do. Since Celestia left the kingdom however, Luna was left to carry out all the royal duties, including the one's Celestia would have done were she still around. Jorah was beginning to despise Celestia for her absence. She had told Luna prior to her leaving exactly the reason why, but Luna refused to share the knowledge she had. When pushed for answers, she would become very angry and make threats, so no pony will dare ask the young Princess where her sister is or why she's not here.

There were many rumours as to what it could be. But the truth of the matter was that no pony had any idea.

Suddenly, a bright, blazing light appeared from the fireplace. Jorah sat up in bed urgently, rolled out eagerly and trotted over to the source of light. Out of the fire came a piece of parchment. Jorah grabbed it. It was still warm. The paper looked very old, tattered and slightly frayed around the edges with a yellowish tint. The magic that had carried it here was still emitting an eery green glow over the face of the letter. Jorah took the letter over to his desk and began reading.

It was from Pangaré.

Pangaré was on the council in the snowy country of Theria, many miles north of Equestria. The letter was poorly written. Pangaré was fluent in Equestrian tongue but always seemed to lack a show of that ability when he wrote. Jorah read the letter through several times.

My loyal Jorah.

It has been too long friend. I said I would write and I apologise for not making that promise sooner. Things have been a little distracting here in Caballus. You'll have to forgive my grammar, I am still learning your native speak. You like to make it complicated. Shorter sentences are better to read anyway. I write this in the hopes that you'll write back, as a close friend. So. How have things been? How is Mel? Made Captain yet?

Caballus has seen better days. I'm still on the council in Theria and things are going well my job is going well. Very hard but very rewarding. Sometimes, Emperor Kiang wishes that there was a Princess like yours to rule Caballus instead of him.

Times are hard, that much is clear. Here in Caballus, we're growing short of food and water. Many of our subjects have become to hunger and famine has spread across our land. I understand we sent an ambassador to Equestria to discuss the matter with the Princess but no one besides the Emperor can seem to get any answers out of him. That's why I write. I need some details of that meeting which took place between him and your Princess. Purely to quench my thirst for knowledge and personal interest. All I can understand is that he has a short temper and got angry at the Princess. I apologise for that on his belhalf if that is true.

I understand the letter is very simple and short and I'm sorry I can not write anymore, but this has taken about an hour to write so far and I'm getting tired of looking at dictionary. We must meet soon. I was much better at speaking your language than writing it.

You're friend,

Chancellor Pangaré.