Monarch

by Mickey Dubs

Chapters

Chapter One: Daggers in the Dark
Chapter Three: A Red Sun Rises
Chapter Five: The Crystal Frontier
Chapter Six: The Great Work Begins
Prologue
Chapter Two: Portents and Promises
Chapter Four: The Daughter of Darkness

Chapter One: Daggers in the Dark

Monarch

By: Mickey Dubs

Assisted by: RainbowDri

—

Chapter One:

Daggers in the Dark

—

"Art thou prepared?"

There was something in Luna's tone that made Twilight Sparkle's neck bristle uncomfortably. Her words rang with a cold, unforgiving brevity that stole both the morning heat and Twilight’s confidence without a sound. She could feel it even now; her hooves now trembled where once they'd been steady and calm. She tried her best to shake it off, but to no avail.

Despite her best efforts, Twilight felt alone. No friends lingered nearby, cheering her on. No Celestia hovered nearby to save her if she needed. No Cadance, no Shining Armor... not even Discord, for all the levity he provided. Only Luna stood beside her, but only in the flesh.

Twilight had watched her as the morning progressed, and something inside her had been slowly growing more and more determined. Hooves had been shaken and bows had been returned, but never once had she truly smiled at anyone. Every Crystal pony senator and Zebra Lord had been met with piercing eyes, a firm hoofshake or curtsy as occasion warranted, and an emotionless smile, but nothing more. Those thanks and cordialities that Celestia had been so proficient in were forgotten on her, it seemed. She hadn't even been willing to promise them her attention or provide an explanation for their delay.

She had always been such a stickler for perfection, but now?

Had she forgotten her royal obligations, now when they mattered most? Had the most rigid protector of royal tradition left her station to leave Twilight without an example to follow? She was as severe and direct as ever, but something else was slowly waking from behind her eyes now when they were but minutes away from validation.

Fear stirred there, and if Luna was afraid...

Luna knew what was coming, that was the only explanation. She knew that, somehow, something would go wrong to undermine this grand international summit of their last few months' preparations. Some part of their rehearsed machine would fail, but not on her part, and most certainly not on Celestia’s.

Whatever failure might arise would come from Twilight herself, and Luna would have the dishonor of watching her temporary student crumble before the eyes of the entire world. For that, there would be no forgiveness, and Twilight would have all her immortal life to suffer the consequences. The thought made her shudder, and with a gulp of cool morning air the last fragments of her confidence cracked.

"I'm not ready for this, Luna," Twilight said quietly. "This is just too much. There's hundreds of ponies out there just waiting for me to fail, I know it!"

"They wish not to see you fail," Luna stated evenly, glancing sideways at her student. "They are more concerned with the needs of their citizens and ensuring their well-being than with how confident you are." She looked Twilight over appraisingly and nickered with disappointment. "Keep your chin up and stand up straight. You're slouching, which will only make that feeling continue.”

Twilight did as she was told and held herself up as proud and confident as Luna. Despite their relatively similar size and stature, age and experience made her feel as if Luna's shadow might swallow her whole. The thought that Luna might be capable of doing just that only made her tremble more.

"Why are there so many of them?" Twilight said, shuffling her hooves. "There were only supposed to be a few dozen delegates. I lost count after ninety, and that was just the first half-hour!" Twilight hid her face from the sun and flicked at her gown's hem. "I doubt most of them are here to discuss inadequate crop yields or... or whatever it is they do. They're just going to laugh at me! They only came to watch me slip up!"

Luna scoffed, shook her head, and answered curtly, “No, Twilight. They have arrived to relay their fears, and we as their princesses must answer them. Crop yields, trade agreements, even the trumpets of war... It is your duty to be informed enough to aid them. Are you not capable of this task?"

"Of course I am, but what about the zebras and the Crystal ponies? How can I be expected to know their problems too? I'm not really their princess, am I?"

"You will soon be everyone's princess, even theirs if all goes according to plan." Luna chanced one last glance at her pupil before holding her gaze on the ballroom door. She puffed out her chest and stood still. Her method of preparing herself was frigid and precise. How she kept herself from cracking and shattering was a mystery.

"You're only worrying yourself further by constantly over-analyzing everything, Twilight. This summit shall go unhindered, our nations will be united, and all shall be well, but only if you calm yourself. It does not do you well to panic, for a princess nev—"

"I know, I know," Twilight muttered, rolling her eyes. "'A princess never panics, for she is her nation. If she quivers, so shall they.'"

"You recite those words but remain ignorant to their meaning," Luna growled, shooting Twilight another stern look. "And never interrupt anypony, especially me. Your conduct is unbefitting a princess of Equestria, and I am not as lenient or forgiving as my sister. You would do well to watch your sass and learn from my example."

Grumbling her understanding, Twilight gazed once more outside at the sun crawling higher in Celestia's absence. "I try to, but you and Princess Celestia have a lot that I don’t. You've had millennia to practice being princesses. I've only had a few months! How can I possibly be that confident in my abilities?"

"It is not a question of possibilities," Luna said curtly. "It is a matter of necessity. You have no choice but to be strong. If you fail, the bonds we create today will be as weak as you are. You are Equestria now, and your citizens will be your sole concern forevermore. Remember that always, and forget your fear.”

Twilight nodded her understanding and hid away from Luna's ever-watchful eyes. She shot another look at the base of the grand entryway before breathing deep, holding her heart with a free hoof, and releasing both in a great exhale.

This is just one more exercise, just one more opportunity to beat the odds and prove myself. The senator ponies will understand I’m still learning.

They’ll understand, won’t they?

"You've been learning more from Cadance than from me, it seems," Luna growled, measuring the time between now and the inevitable descent of Celestia’s sun. "She's the only one I know who calms herself like that, despite how many times I remind her to discontinue its use. It reflects poorly on us and hints at our ineptitude."

"It helps," Twilight said with a shrug. "It'll distract me from just how scary this is going to be. Without the girls here it’s going to be a little more difficult than I thought it would—"

"Your fear is ill-placed, Twilight Sparkle! You calm your heart but wear your fear for all to see, when it must be in the reverse!” Luna’s thunderous bark and stamping hoof cracked the air and the marble tiles below. Dumbstruck, she rounded on her terrified student with venomous eyes. "Have you forgotten everything I’ve taught you? Have these past few months been wasted on you? You may be my sister’s personal student, but when I teach you something you are expected to learn it!”

"I'm trying, Luna! Please, just let me relax a little!"

"Princesses do not try, they do! You have had months to prepare for this! No student of mine has ever been allowed unwarranted time to prepare for their tasks, and therefore neither shall you!”

Twilight moved to retreat, but Luna held her eyes and advanced ever-closer, nostrils flaring. “My sister has allowed you to be weak and helpless for far too long, but now it’s time to grow up! I’ll be damned if you fail me, do you understand?!”

Cowering under the assault, Twilight quivered in her place while Luna took a few deep breaths, every exhalation tainted with disappointment. Finally, when no rebuttal came, she turned her back on her pupil and left Twilight to stare at the floor and the lines of tiles swimming through her tears. Infinitesimal cracks radiated from Luna’s point of impact. They could have been canyons for all Twilight knew, but they could do nothing to distract her from the fluttering of Luna’s ethereal mane.

The final product of a thousand years' maintenance and magical power, it remained as a testament to her experience. When words were insufficient, her natural-turned-magical mane was enough validation that she was indeed a princess, by right and by rule. As much as she hated it, Twilight couldn’t find any point on which to defend herself.

I may be Celestia's student at heart, but I’m Luna's pupil by necessity.

Twilight bowed her head and gave her submission willingly in the form of a muffled apology. No response came, and soon the hallway rang with an uncomfortable silence. Slowly, just when the weight of Luna's rage became too much to bear, the warm sound of laughter rang out to herald the arrival of their newest guest. Raising her eyes sheepishly, Twilight encountered a most welcome and marvelous sight.

Princess Cadance paced calmly forward adorned in those most precious crystals of her nation's namesake. Her attendants had teased and tied her mane into her traditional headdress, but she alone had completed the ensemble with draping golden links encrusted with sapphire, garnet, and other priceless gems. Equally adorned Crystal handmaidens held her gown's long train with their magic and struggled to match her quickening pace, laughing between themselves at a joke unheard. Dazzling diamond horseshoes clicked delicately on equally polished marble, muffled by the soft sweep of her dress with every flounce.

With a calm canter forward and a beaming smile, Cadance and Twilight abandoned their royal airs and engaged in the bouncing and rump-shaking cordialities they had long kept alive. When they'd finished, they shared a tight hug before falling into place alongside the oldest of the three rulers. What levity they’d brought to life was extinguished when Luna's voice cracked through the silence to make her displeasure known.

"You're lucky that door's so thick, Cadance," Luna said with a snarl. "You'd make a mockery of your people before our neighbors, which would undermine this entire gathering! The zebras are a proud race. Why should they ally themselves with your empire when that empire's ruler can't contain herself around others?"

Cadance started a rebuttal only to find another voice answering for her, hidden by distance and the cavernous hallways beyond.

"Please calm down, Luna. Everything is going to be fine.”

Little waves of calm bounced effortlessly from the pillars with every perfect word, filling Twilight’s heart with warmth. Turning together, Cadance and Twilight regarded their latest guest in wonder. Luna only scowled and turned away.

Clad in her finest royal garments and most precious of ceremonial yokes, Princess Celestia paced calmly down the hallway and stepped before her fellow princesses, towering over the three of them with pride. A full outfit of Royal Guards flanked her on either side with Shining Armor leading at the fore. He stopped beside his Cadance and gave her a nuzzle while his security detail swept the hallway for signs of disturbance. When none were found, they returned to their posts and their loyal guard over their royal charges.

Twilight nudged past them and trudged to the window, watching the curtains flutter as she passed by. Sunlight and silk danced and contorted together before her wings’ wake tousled them shut, rendering them still. It had been but a moment, but she had never seen anything quite so pretty.

A few moments to remind herself what lay outside would do her a world of good, especially now that Luna had begun to speak. She had always assumed Twilight couldn’t hear her words, and it would have done her proud to know she was listening now if not for the fact her attention was unwarranted.

Luna’s reflection stood towering over her library in the valley below. Even her reflection was unbearably cold, no matter how warm the memories of home became.

“Thou knowest I'm correct, sister," Luna said evenly, stamping her hoof on Twilight's library in the distance. Twilight's heart lurched in her breast, but Celestia adjusted her crown with her magic and bowed low, speaking delicately and carefully. Even through the glass her very image was soothing.

"As usual, Luna, you know traditional decorum and requirement best. But seeing as this is Twilight's first international engagement as a princess, I see no issue with cutting her some slack."

Luna remained silent, boring holes into their ballroom’s oaken barrier with dangerously sharp eyes. Celestia continued eyeing her younger sibling, but there would be no bringing her around.

"You and I both know a princess is never perfect," Celestia continued. "We make mistakes, choose poorly, or fall short of the expectations of ourselves or others. We fail on occasion, but only through failure can we understand our strengths, our weaknesses, and our true power. Perfection is less suitable now than honesty, and few have that trait more perfected than Twilight. Please, keep her tutelage in mind. She is still learning."

“But she has learned nothing over the past few months, sister! She worries only for her friends and their absence when instead she should be worrying about our nation’s destruction! She is fearful, when I require her to be strong! Even you can see the errors of her ways, can you not?”

“I can,” Celestia said plainly. “But now is no time to exacerbate that with cold words. Her fear has always prompted her readiness, and her preparedness for everything has always served her well." Celestia smiled hopefully and moved a little closer. "Give her some room to grow, Luna. If you control her path for her, the only direction our nation will bend is on a road to which she is ill-suited.”

"The chains of leadership cannot bend," Luna growled, staring blankly at the grains of stained wood separating her from her inevitable shame. "She must learn this sooner or later, and now is the perfect time. She cannot be idle and weak anymore. She must understand her place in the world, especially now when our nation stands on the edge of a knife. If she falls, all shall feel its cut."

"Yes, but you don't wield that blade," Celestia said sternly, nodding towards the door. "That right belongs to them. Only they can judge her merits. She can make her own mistakes and learn from her shortcomings on her own, but your admonitions will only make that more likely."

Preparing herself with a cursory brush of her dress, Luna glared her defiance for her sister before casting a glance at Twilight. "There will come a time when she will fail, and neither you nor I will be able to save her. She must know it will happen and she must prepare for it. If she falls, Equestria falls."

Catching her student's downcast eyes through her reflection in the glass, Luna grumbled her discontent once more before resigning herself to shutting out the world. Celestia smiled sadly and let her be, tracing Twilight's steps to stand quietly at her side. She waited a few seconds to allow Twilight to rally herself and rein in her emotions before joining her in her vigil over Ponyville. "You were listening to Luna, I'm guessing?"

Twilight gave a tiny nod, followed close behind by a small, shaky sigh. Chuckling to herself, Celestia bowed low and held her student's attention with a little brush of her mane. "I know you're nervous, Twilight, and I know that Luna has been riding you a little hard lately. As much as you may hate her for it, you must know that what she says is the truth. It may not be pleasant, but the truth rarely is."

"She could've at least seen how scared I am," Twilight said shakily. "I mean, how am I supposed to be equal to you when there's this huge gap between us? Why is she trying to make me so perfect? You said a princess is never perfect, didn't you?"

“I may have said that, but you must understand that much of our success rides on you. You are the newest face these ponies have seen. You were once like them, but now you have ascended. Your example shines as a beacon for all those who need your help. They will rely on you to give them hope when they just can't do it alone. It may be a heavy burden, but it's one you must bear."

Twilight shook her head and shied away. "I just don’t know if I can do that well enough. That’s a lot of pressure."

"And being an Element of Harmony isn't?" Celestia declared, nodding in the direction of Cadance. The Crystal Princess nodded her understanding and joined her husband before the ballroom door, her escorts fanning out behind them. With a glimmer of magic the two of them broke apart the door's monumental frame, granting Twilight a glimpse of the grand space she would soon share with her tutors.

A crowd of Crystal ponies shimmered and smiled as Cadance approached, their rank and file settling into an easy order as she took her station at their fore. None of them seemed to feel anything but adoration for her, despite her inexperience, her youth, and her relatively new arrival into their fair empire. They had acquiesced to Cadance's rule, and through her new leadership they had flourished.

Twilight watched as Cadance beamed with pride and took in the love of her nation before the grand door creaked slowly closed, hiding her from view. When the connection was broken, Twilight afforded herself one more deep breath to calm herself and a quick wipe of her cheeks before attending to her teacher’s soft words.

“Luna worries for our nation as much as you worry for your friends. She wants Equestria to be safe, and if she must sacrifice her levity with you to make that happen then she will do it without hesitation. All princesses must give themselves up for their citizens. Luna has said this on many occasions, has she not?"

“More like every occasion,” Twilight said. “She never quits talking about it, actually. I just never thought that would mean giving up my friends, too.”

"Did she ask you to forget about them entirely, or merely not worry about them?"

The way she asked such a simple question betrayed the fact that she already knew the answer. As Twilight tore through each of Luna's lessons, none arose which supported her friends' dismissal. Twilight's heart sunk. "I guess she never did."

Celestia chuckled at this. "Of course not. Do you think I alone read your letters? Luna is well aware of the power of your connection with your friends. She is also aware of how much you rely on them for comfort. Luna has only asked you to be strong, even it means you must stand alone for now." Twilight shivered at the notion, but Celestia stroked her mane to lend her warmth. "They worry for you, I know they do. Don't think that they aren't thinking about you as much as you are them.”

Twilight smiled and held Celestia's hoof a little closer. "I know they do. I just wish they could have come, though. It would be nice to see them, just to know everything will be okay.”

“What makes you think it won’t be?”

Twilight shrugged and pawed the ground, watching Carousel Boutique in the distance as if Luna's reflection might stamp out those blissful memories too. “Luna made it seem that way, I guess. Nothing I do is good enough for her! I’ve been giving it my all these last few months, but every time I think I’ve got something perfect she tweaks it, makes it harder, expects me to be able to adapt faster than I’m able. I can’t keep up, and I’m getting further and further behind. I've never fallen this far behind before, and now I... I just...”

Lowering her head, Twilight hid her disconsolation behind folds of hair. “I just feel like I’ve failed without even getting the chance to try.”

Celestia regarded her student sadly for a moment before holding her attention on Luna. When Luna’s icy demeanor brought about a sliver of understanding, Celestia returned her attention to Twilight and held her head low.

"Take a look at Luna, dear, and tell me what you see."

Twilight started a little at the request, but Celestia's silent persistence bid her onwards. She brushed her cheeks to hide the evidence of her tears, for Luna would look for them first. She'd always been able to see past her walls, no matter how hard she tried to keep them up. Now, when she finally caught Luna's eyes, was no exception.

Luna stood proudly before the ballroom door, soundlessly staring down at her student with cold, sharp eyes. She was simple and beautiful, cold and unforgiving though she was, requiring nothing more than a few jeweled accessories to complement Rarity's supple midnight-purple gown. Her earrings glimmered like radiant stars, frozen in place just like the hoof-stitched whorls of braided silver glinting on her collar. It was no stretch of the imagination to see them melting and freezing in constant flux as Luna’s mood allowed.

Everything about her was calm, collected, regally powerful, and yet... troubled. There was a malice there restrained beneath layers of memories and rules, always on the alert to be suddenly sprung from confinement to enact her immortal wrath. She stood stock-still, frozen to the floor like a statue with eyes and skin as hard as the resplendent marble beneath.

But still, she looked on towards the ballroom with a dedication unrivaled by anything Twilight had ever seen. The fear she'd seen just minutes before was fighting now with love, of all things. The two wrestled almost visibly just beneath her eyes, and slowly the love she had for her mission, her place in the world, and those ponies who awaited her just beyond the ballroom door was winning out.

No Nightmare could have ever allowed that to come to pass. No insecurity could have planted her hooves where they rested. Her brevity was not adopted by choice, nor was her caustic attitude or her anger with her student. She held no animosity for her; Twilight could see that now, when hatred stepped aside for reverence.

Luna was a princess. She was the past brought to bear to shape the future.

She was everything Twilight wanted to be.

"I see my future."

Celestia gave her student a little smile. "Yes, Twilight. This is what you must be willing to be. You must be willing to give up everything like Luna has. I know that asking you to leave your friends and loved ones behind is a great request, but you are no longer just yourself. You are an entire nation of millions, a lifetime of choices with many more to suffer their consequences. You are a banner to which others flock when their own is tattered. Sacrifice, duty, selflessness, fairness... these are what it means to be royalty.”

She turned her head to join Twilight as she watched Luna. Her sister caught her eye, and with a little trembling smile Celestia closed her eyes and nodded. “There is no better example of royalty than her."

Twilight couldn’t help but gape in awe. The weight of it all came in waves, pushing her further and further down as every ignored reality Celestia brought back to the surface piled up. Celestia patted her shoulder and those worries spirited themselves away. She had a knack for doing that, Twilight remembered, and the thought made her smile.

“I know you’re scared, Twilight, and I know you feel small and insignificant in the face of what must seem like an insurmountable task. Wasn't fighting Nightmare Moon the same way? Wasn't challenging Discord, Chrysalis, and Sombra seemingly impossible too?" She waited patiently as Twilight nodded. Then, with a smile, she continued proudly, "Yet here you are: the answer to so many of Equestria’s troubles, the end result of your own personal courage and determination! You could never be a failure, Twilight Sparkle, not even if you tried. You are stronger than you will ever know. Once you understand that, the world will see it too.”

Twilight’s eyes rose timidly from the floor, pulled upwards by Celestia's courage until both found the sun and the other's eyes. Celestia's tender smile joined with Twilight’s as both shook off their doubts with a shared calming breath. When Twilight's trembling finally died, Celestia held her voice low once more.

"We are old, and this is a new world,” Celestia continued, stroking Twilight’s mane with a warm hoof. “We are unable to attend to the times as well as we once were, when the world and its problems were less convoluted. Much has changed in my lifetime and much more will change in yours, but all that change must be nurtured if it is to benefit us all. Much is growing uneasy in the shadows, but we seek now to shine a new light of progress, industry, and unity. Learn from my example, and all shall be well."

"I'm still your faithful student, remember?" Twilight said with a wink. "You know that's what I'm good at!"

From over Celestia’s shoulder a clock chimed the start of a new hour. The guards around them shifted into position to begin their march, flanking Luna on either side with an open place for the two absent princesses. Plodding slowly towards her sister, Celestia ushered Twilight close with an outstretched wing.

"Indeed, but this is no lesson. While this day is, in part, one of celebration, it is also one of severe and undeniable importance. This is no mere conference anymore, Twilight. It has become something greater. Something grave."

"No..." Twilight said under her breath. She looked to find some evidence of her misunderstanding only to find none. "But I thought Cadance said she could handle it! I thought she had everything under control!"

"Not anymore," Celestia whispered, shaking her head. "Cadance has made it clear that she cannot succeed, and the Zebra Lords are unwilling to acknowledge or act on the idea of standing idle. While no one wants or believes bloodshed to be necessary, the longer this festers, the more ponies will worry. This conference is a nudge away from becoming a council of war." Celestia rose to her full, unforgiving bearing. "I vowed to never again conduct such an affair. I wish to never break that promise."

Twilight began to shiver once again, but Celestia cast off her airs and smiled kindly at her. "But that shall not happen, for you're not one to leave a question unanswered. You will succeed and bring some semblance of logic to these proceedings. You have that ability. You always have."

Celestia caught Twilight's falling chin and ushered it back towards the light of her sun. Giving her Honor Guard a nod of preparedness, she reassumed her maternal warmth and granted her student a little grin.

“Tread lightly, but weigh your hooves. Speak delicately, but understand the gravity of your words. Heed our actions and strive to follow them, for we have much in the way of experience. Finally, just remember to relax. You are not going to be mocked for your inability to lead. Our senators know you're still learning, and I have no doubt that the Zebra Lords and the senators from the Crystal Empire will understand that.”

“Let’s hope so,” Twilight muttered as Celestia, with a knowing smile, stood up proudly before the door. Her posture alone was enough encouragement for calm, and her next words only helped ease the passing of the last few seconds before Twilight’s doubts came to life.

“Luna will attend to the gravity of the old while I exact the cordiality of the new. All you must do is relax, learn from us, and make suggestions where you can.”

Twilight nodded her understanding and chanced one last glance into Luna's unforgiving eyes. They hadn't softened from the sun's warmth or her sister's presence. Twilight took another deep breath and held onto it as Celestia focused her magic on the door. With a shimmering dazzle of yellow the grand entryway creaked audibly and opened wide with a grand rushing wind.

And there, before the three of them, stood the rest of the world.

~~~~~

The muffled thud! of oak rippled through the now-empty hallway and slowly dwindled away to nothing, casting a pall through Canterlot’s Eastern Wing.

A translucent glimmer of light crept slowly from a nearby curtain and surveyed the surroundings, retreating back into the fabric when no one arrived to fill Twilight’s abandoned station. How she had evaded the guards was a mystery; they were usually so thorough, and always en masse. She had remained undetected, much to her relief. One little slip and all would've been ruined.

Twilight had been so close, just there out of reach near the window, staring into nothing. She had even peered over the place where she stood now, smiling at her, admiring her beauty as the sun coursed through her field.

One pounce, one slice of the knife, and both crowns would have fallen. The Usurper's was the prize, but Twilight's? Hers was the reward.

Another time, she thought. Patience yields sweeter fruit than haste.

She chanced another look towards the ballroom door and grinned.

How sweet the fruit of revenge must be after a millennium of ripening...

Banners of boundless colors and designs fluttered delicately from the marble pillars of Canterlot’s Grand Ballroom, catching the breeze and low morning sunlight in shimmering ripples of gold and vermilion. Lilting arrangements of fuchsia, ivy, rose, and foreign arboreal wonders snaked and coiled through the air from their stations on the rafters, gracing the air with fragrance and cascading petals.

But the beauty of the flowers and the glory of the morning sun were unattended, for pony and zebra alike tittered and muttered their astonishment as the three princesses of Equestria paced calmly forward. Some ponies craned their necks to catch a better look, and even more did double takes when Twilight's coronation was remembered.

Most astounding of all was that none of them were laughing. Not a single pony was mocking her, angry with her, or booing her. They were calm, patient, and polite. They were all just as regimented as she was now, and that fact gave Twilight the courage to chance quick glances around the ballroom on the occasions when Luna didn't seem to be watching her every move.

Twilight's curiosity drew her first towards the faces of the zebra delegation and their singular color palette. Their banners of earthen hues and abstract patterns swayed and shivered as their bearers attended to her entrance, each of them standing out alone from their surrounding ocean of beautifully-colored marble and tile. Each senator, lord, and assistant remained severe, focused only on the task at hand with a singular motive. Not a single warrior was without his spear, and all were decorated with the individual's trophies and skulls of their fiercest foes. More than a few belonged to ponies.

The only zebra who broke the pattern stood proudly at the fore beside her elder, clad merely in her usual golden bangles and her customary Mohawk. Her neck and forehead were anointed with ceremonial dyes in swirling patterns, with lines of cinnabar and deep cerulean twisting from her breast down towards her hooves.

Surrounded by her kin, Zecora had never been more beautiful.

She and Twilight shared a little smile, but when the severity of the coming gathering was remembered both broke their contact to reassume their duties. Cadance and Shining Armor stood proudly at the head of their shared delegation and smiled hopefully for Twilight's success, but Twilight never saw them. Her attention was not on her sibling and his bride, but instead on her hooves' synchronicity with her tutors'. Luna had seen her become distracted, and her silent remonstrations filled the spaces between them. It had always been an unbearable feeling.

As the three walked silently along in perfect unison, each step only added to her courage. The lessons of her princesses were paying off, she could feel it! No senator regarded her disapprovingly, biting their lips in expectation of a fall or an embarrassing stumble! None of her own representatives appeared as if they regretted having placed their shared power into this new vessel!

Twilight kept her head high as her walk progressed. There was no need to fear Luna’s reprimands, for her steps were perfectly in line with hers, her smile just as calm, her breaths steady as practiced. She was Luna's spitting image, for none had announced otherwise.

She was doing it! She was a real princess, with all of Celestia’s power and Luna’s perfect precision in every confident stride! With a smile to Cadance, Twilight glanced to her side to seek some indication that she was in fact succeeding, that Celestia was marking her moves and finding them flawless.

She turned to find herself alone.

Shaking herself from her reverie, Twilight's hoof-steps stopped dead amidst a ringing silence. Looking about, she found herself alone in the very center of the ballroom, her princesses yards behind her, both of them silent and still.

Alone in the very middle of hundreds of the world's most powerful ponies, each of them silently staring at her in horror.

With a gasp and a brief start towards her fellow princesses, Twilight retraced her steps only to find her hooves tangled with her gown's short train. A hoof caught the fabric and pulled her down, her horseshoes grating the floor with a piercing shriek of silver on stone. As every rattling note broke the silence, Twilight's cheeks grew unbearably warm, her vision swimming with the first tears of frustration until the most unlikely sound bid her halt.

A sound just like her own. A sound coming closer. The steady clink of diamonds and the soft rattling of gold.

Steadying her heart, Twilight turned briefly to the side to find her friend Zecora, as proudly as she was able, cantering forward to meet her. On the right she found Cadance doing the same, the sweep of her dress muffing only slightly the twinkling of her crystal headwear. A few tense moments more found the three of them greeting one another with broad smiles, distanced from their assembled parties as their respective rehearsals crumbled away.

"You missed your mark, honey," Cadance said from behind her toothy grin, her smile wide to hide her words. "You're in for it tonight. You know that, right? Luna's not going to be happy with you."

"Just go with it. I can handle her." Twilight smiled graciously and bowed her head towards her two saviors. Cadance and Zecora shared a glance, bowed low, and rose after a few moments of silence. Zecora was first to break her smile and return their attention towards recovering from their sudden break in tradition.

"On the count of three, we all shall turn and claim the spots we three have spurned. The best of luck goes out to thee. Are you prepared?" Twilight and Cadance gave tiny nods, which Zecora returned. Then, with her head high, she began the count.

"One, two, and three!"

The three of them turned in unison and trotted back from the middle of the grand ballroom amidst a smattering of polite applause. Twilight's emotionless façade cracked slightly when pride reared its head and soaked up the praise, but as she reclaimed her place between her fellow princesses, Luna snuffed out her proud little flame.

"We will discuss this later," Luna snarled, her smile held only long enough to shield her words from the slowly dwindling applause.

As the clopping of hooves and various mutterings fell, Twilight's bravery fell with it.

Clearing her throat with a polite cough, Celestia took one step forward and spoke over the heads of her guests and their various leaders, granting Zecora enough time to translate with every weighed sentence. Their ears and eyes perked up with every warm assuring word, and as she spoke those few ponies not listening to the proceedings rallied themselves into full attention.

"We three nations have long been joined by ties of camaraderie and trade, and as the years have passed this bond has only grown stronger. Though the citizens of the fair Crystal Empire have been newly given back to the world, our thoughts and hopes have always been aligned towards their safety and good health."

Celestia bowed in the direction of Cadance and shared a smile with her before speaking once more to both parties.

“Our crystalline neighbors to the north and the noble Tribal Lords of the south have forever been friends of Equestria. Today, in the collected eyes of our nations’ leaders, we aim to make this union official and usher in days of peace and prosperity for all."

Celestia passed the weight of their address to her sibling with a backwards step and a nod for Twilight. That nod was one of her silent suggestions for attention, and Twilight didn't miss the gesture. Her ears perked up to heed Luna’s words as they echoed sternly around the ballroom, broken only by the clanking of her hooves as she assumed control.

"The Lords of the Zebra Tribes have made evident their concerns, as have the delegates from the newly restored Crystal Empire. There has been much concern over the growing darkness from the Northern Lands and some speculation as to its source. I can state with absolute certainty that we princesses of Equestria have little knowledge of the origins of this blight, but wish wholeheartedly to see it addressed and overcome. Thus, over the course of the day, we three nations will discuss what must be done to remain strong in the face of this threat and how the unity of our borders will create added security for centuries to come."

Luna backed away as rehearsed and beckoned Twilight forward with a curt nod. Stifling her fear, Twilight chanced a quick glance towards Celestia and Cadance before breathing deep and releasing those words she and Luna had spent the night rehearsing.

"It is my hope that our problems might be resolved on this day," Twilight announced shakily, giving Zecora some time to translate. Stamping her hoof, she rallied herself back into action and pounced on her next sentence with vigor.

But as her voice trickled out weakly into her audience, she found no comfort in their silence.

"I am eager to help direct in what way I can towards... umm... towards alleviating what problems I know of that have come forth to... to... umm..."

"And what do you know of our problems?"

A lone voice broke the pall, sending ripples of turning heads and hurried translations. A few heads of the Crystal Empire party were turned in the direction of one large amber stallion at the front of the crowd. His emerald eyes looked from Twilight to his compatriots in rapid succession to verify he wasn’t alone in his appraisal. Some other stallions and mares nodded their agreement, despite Cadance’s fiery glare.

"You've barely been a princess for a few months," the stallion continued, stepping forward. "How could you promise to help when you don't even know our names, our positions, or what areas we represent?"

The stallion's proclamation engendered more than a few nods and murmurs of agreement from the Crystal ranks, and after a few moments Zecora's rendition of the conflict prompted a similar response from a few Zebra Lords and their aides. One particularly fearsome zebra stallion across the room gave an audible snort of disapproval. Twilight turned her attention towards her fellow princesses, but both remained in their places.

She would have to handle this alone.

"I'm sorry to have offended you," Twilight began, relinquishing her place alongside Luna to approach the stallion in question. Luna started slightly when Twilight’s mark lay empty once more, but a look from Celestia was enough for her to hold her ground. "It was not my intention to belittle your worries, whatever they might be."

"So you don't know?" the stallion said with alarm, looking to his fellow senators with a frown. "You don't realize that our citizens are being mauled in their sleep? That families are being torn apart while you sit here and make empty promises?" When his colleagues joined in his distress he rounded on Twilight once more, his voice dripping with contempt. "If you don't understand, why do you say you care? You have no clue why you're here, do you?!"

"Hold your tongue, Chancellor Strata!" Cadance snapped, rounding on her senator with a scowl. "You are speaking to a princess, and you will give her your respect! If I so much as—"

"Cadance, please..."

Turning her gaze from her rebellious delegate to Twilight's outstretched hoof, Cadance loosened her stance as Twilight, with a shrug of her shoulders, spoke up loud and clear.

"You're right, Chancellor. I don't know why you're here. I barely know why I am, or how I can help. I wish I had learned more about your issues and those of the zebra tribes, but I just haven't had that time. I haven't been able to keep up with everything that has been thrown at me in the past few months, no matter how much I studied. I'm sure you've been in a similar position before, have you not? You've been placed under a great amount of pressure as of late, no?"

She waited a few moments as her opponent considered her words, sighing in relief when he shrugged his shoulders and nodded. Twilight trotted once more to that place she'd abandoned minutes before, her voice loud and even despite her fears. Granting each nation a hopeful smile, she spoke to each of them in turn as calmly and clearly as she was able.

"I won't lie to you, there is much I don't understand about your nations or your problems... but you have my word that I will do everything in my power to give each and every one of you my whole attention and my advice, should you ask for it. I would never tell you how to run your countries, for they are precisely that: your countries. I can't tell you what to do or how to act. I will, however, remind you that Equestria is here to be your friend."

Bowing before both the Crystal Ponies and the Zebra Tribes once more, Twilight gave both nations a wide smile. "With that in mind, let's see how we might help each other overcome what problems we have, and let's all remember that every pony and zebra in this room is fighting for their country’s safety! Everyone wants only to be heard and helped, so let's do our best to ensure that all are regarded equally!"

A smattering of smiles and nods appeared in the zebra ranks as Zecora finished her translation, and with another glance towards the Crystal senator and his colleagues Twilight found an equally warm reception. Rallying her final thoughts, Twilight raised her head and allowed her voice to echo throughout the hall as powerful and crisp as Luna's had been.

"Let's make our citizens proud of our work here today! Let's remind ourselves that we aren't so very different, that our problems are universal, and that we can do anything if we work together! "

A few hoots and hollers sounded out from the pony delegation, joined equally in fervor by various calls from the zebra ranks. With a broad smile Twilight held their attention one final time before stamping her hoof hard, beginning the summit proper with the crisp echoing toll.

"Let's get started, everypony!"

Shouts and applause erupted from the Equestrian senators behind her, the thunderous stamping of their hooves causing the floor to quake and roil. The fluttering of the Crystal Empire banners joined the calls and powerful blasts of the Zebra battlehorns, and as their concussive sound radiated out into the spaces above those flowers and banners overhead waved and shuddered from the impact.

Twilight stood her ground amidst a soft rain of petals as ponies of every nation, without regard for timidity or tradition, trotted forth to engage with those around them, smiles and laughter on their lips and tongues. A few Crystal ponies shook her hoof warmly, bowing their heads low as Twilight did the same. A few zebras and their attending lord engaged in their foreign niceties as Twilight nodded and smiled, allowing her hoof to be shaken vigorously. When those senators of her own nation had finished congratulating her for her speech, their places at Twilight's side were replaced not by another friend, but by a stranger.

"My heartfelt apologies, Princess Sparkle," muttered one stallion in his bow. Returning the gesture, Twilight rose to find herself staring into the deep, emerald eyes of Chancellor Strata. "It was not my intention to shame you. While I must admit I am skeptical of your abilities, I cannot deny that you are right. I am very worried about my ponies' safety. I hope that today, with your help, I might be able to report something less distressing to my district."

"No apologies necessary, Chancellor," Twilight said kindly, extending her hoof. "Besides, I needed to practice my speech! I couldn't have done it without a little push."

"You belittle your skill, Princess, as I did you. I hope our discussion today proves my sincerity." Chancellor Strata concluded his apology with a polite bow and a firm kiss of her hoof. Blushing madly, Twilight nodded her thanks and graced him with a broad smile as he rose from his bow, returned her smile, and then trotted back to meet with his aides.

"That was an excellent recovery, Twilight," Celestia said proudly, stepping lightly before her student. Luna trailed at her side only slightly less dour than before. "You've made an excellent start towards gaining their trust! Follow through on your promises and I have no doubt you'll surely make a difference."

"You've already made a sizable one," Luna muttered tersely, gazing out around the ballroom and the ponies milling there. "This gathering is now far more informal than I had planned. While I resent that, it might be more in tune with the times. We'll see if your gambit pays off. I do still expect to discuss this blunder with you, however, for there is much we have yet to perfect." Returning her eyes to her student, she granted Twilight with the ghost of a smile. “Until then, be as proud of your accomplishment as we are of you."

Twilight bowed before her teachers as Celestia and Luna, with immortal grace, returned the gesture. The two elder princesses rose from their bows and trotted off to begin the summit and the debates within as Twilight, beaming proudly, stood in the center of milling life as witness to the grand summit she'd officially set in motion.

The stamp of a heavy hoof and a ruffle of hair caused Twilight to turn in surprise to find a massive zebra lord, bedecked in his ceremonial jewelry and flanked by his loyal translator Zecora. His back was bowed both in custom and by age, and when he rose Twilight found nicks and tears dotting his flesh. An aged warlord, proud of lineage and stature despite the years.

With a cursory glance over Twilight the aging stallion turned to mutter a few words to Zecora. With a quick second to attend to her lord and a moment to clear her throat, Zecora collected her thoughts and relayed her message.

"Princess Sparkle, my lord requests your thoughts on what you think is best. Inspired by your speech and tone he wants, like you, to speak alone. His Equestrian is still quite poor but, with your grace, he’d like the floor."

Stepping aside, Zecora swept her hoof to allow the stallion a few words. He bowed low before Twilight then rose up proudly, an eye on his translator all the while.

"My princess, you're very courageous," he muttered in a rumbling baritone, glancing towards his translator for verification of his words' veracity. A smile and nod from both Twilight and his translator was enough to continue. "And your promise of hope’s quite contagious. Your courage inspires my nation's desires for a partnership most... most..."

Staring blankly at the princess before him, the great zebra lord tried in vain to find the right words before Twilight's hoof politely bid him pause. Twilight collaborated with Zecora in hushed tones before returning to face him with a broad smile. Then, with a nod, Twilight stepped forward and proudly spoke her very first word in the zebra tongue.

A wave of smiles, like they had at her previous address, radiated outwards from the Zebra Lord and his delegates as her word fell on receptive ears. With a great beaming smile the great zebra lord planted a long chain of kisses on Twilight's hoof to make physically clear his relief and astonishment. Twilight's cheek resurged with warmth as he looked kindly upwards into her eyes with a little wink.

"Yes, princess," he exclaimed with a warm pat of her hoof. "That's the word: 'advantageous'!"

Twilight fell into step beside her newfound friend with a small group of zebras in tow, trotting forward at the lord’s side to begin the process of deliberation and debate. As the morning pastries and various juices and coffees made their rounds, every senator, officiate, guard, and leader sat firmly at ease, notes at the ready to facilitate the day's debates and agreements.

Twilight couldn’t help but release that breath she’d long been holding.

Everything is going to be fine.

“Are you prepared?”

A zebra and a Crystal pony senator feigned small talk and watched carefully as hundreds of others went about their tasks. The mid-day banquet was reaching a fever-pitch as ponies of every species and nationality gorged themselves on the long-deferred Equestrian delicacies and caught a few moments to relax. Ponies flitted about with their morsels, but those two were loathe to join them. Their master's voice trickling from the curtains had stolen their appetites away.

With a glance about the hallway, the zebra swallowed his hesitation and nodded to his Crystal pony counterpart. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, eyeing his partner with worry only to find him distracted by the arrival of champagne. Facing the curtains once more, he chanced a quick glance about the hallway before holding his voice low. “But the meeting is still in full swing! Striking now would be highly unorth—”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do!” the voice snarled, dripping with malice. “He chose me, not you! I will decide when to strike! It will be me! ME!”

“Of course, milady,” he muttered, hiding his fear from his master. “But you mustn't do so now, for they might see us before it’s time.”

“How dare you challenge me! I’ll have your head for this! I’ll put it right beside hers as a reminder to your bastard kin!”

“Please, milady,” muttered the other, feigning a pull from his glass. “You can’t allow yourself to be exposed! They would be on you in a heartbeat, and then this would all be for naught!”

A moment of tense silence followed, made even more taut as she continued speaking to the curtains. The two looked at each other in horror, for she was speaking to neither in particular. Her words were only for the cold spaces between them.

“She’s tricky... very tricky. Yes, most assuredly, but I... am I not craftier? She has always been too trusting, too lax, and he knows this! He has seen that I am perfect for his task! I am perfection! I am—"

A muffled gasp of sudden pain and a ruffle of the curtains sent the two stallions' hearts palpitating, but before they could rush to their master's aide she growled, took a few pained breaths, and spoke again, this time quiet and alert.

"No, he mustn't hear. My pride will surely bring about our failure, and I cannot fail him. I cannot fail. I mustn't fail.” The voice stopped dead alongside the hearts of its attending servants. One second of silence, two, three, and then...

“I suppose you’re right,” she hissed, much to her servants' relief. The Crystal pony drained his glass of champagne in a hearty swig while the other wiped his brow in relief and stifled a smile.

"Your will be done, milady," the zebra said happily. "What else do you ask of us?"

A thin, gut-wrenching giggle snuck out icily from the curtains. "I'd ask that you remind me to punish you both for talking back to me. Our lord would expect nothing less from someone of my caliber.”

A shared look between zebra and Crystal pony allowed both to commiserate only briefly before another hiss broke their connection. “And what of the others? I was told that she would be defenseless.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the Crystal senator said evenly, smiling and waving at a nearby zebra delegate and his Equestrian escort. When the charade had the desired effect, he continued with a sigh of relief. “Your soldiers have contained the five of them for now, and soon they will be delivered to our lord alongside their charges. They are all safe, as our lord commanded.”

“LIAR!” the voice snarled, shuddering the curtains and the very spines of the two senators. Their fear multiplied when a few onlookers peered over and eyed them warily, but a polite nod from the zebra senator satiated their curiosity. “How dare you lie to me! You haven’t taken them! They’re here, aren’t they? You’ve allowed them here to help destroy me, haven’t you? You’ll be ripped apart for this, I’ll see it done myself!”

“No, please! We’ve captured them, I saw to it myself! All five are secured and unspoiled!”

“Prove it, you wretch! Prove you’re something greater than a lying worm! Do it!”

Glancing at his compatriot, the two of them checked their surroundings once more before a shared nod granted the zebra permission to remove from his bag a bundle of cloth. Placing the sack between them, both senators turned in unison to hide the passing of their parcel beneath the curtain’s edge.

A few moments of silence and the rustling of cloth followed, broken only by a quiet giggle of mirth and a brief clip-clop of excited hooves. Brushing the sweat from their brows, both hid their smiles as their master spoke once more. “Excellent. You've done your disgusting race proud by being honest for a change.”

“Thank you, milady,” the zebra spoke, glancing at his counterpart expectantly. “We shall prepare ourselves. By your leave, we’ll—”

“Not yet." A devilish little chuckle joined their master's glimmering hoof as the curtains parted between them. “I require a donation of sorts from one of you, a token of your faith in me.”

The two senators eyed one another apprehensively as others of their adopted nations returned to their tables. When nothing came but the slow tap of a hidden hoof from nearby and the toll of the clock as signal of their required presence, the Crystal pony delegate nodded his head and extended his hoof between the curtains. “I will do it."

The zebra, with a tense grin, stood before his partner and hid him from view as the other bowed his head, clenched his teeth, and waited. Of all the possible demands, this one brooked no contention. There could be no other way, not for the task they had at hand. The Crystal pony clenched his eyes tighter and spared himself the horror of his master's request. No arguments, for her words were law, and her retribution would be as sharp and swift as the blade slowly slicing his flesh apart. Blood seeped slowly from his leg as muscle and sinew loosened and snapped, silent save the sound of his blood in free-fall smashing with the marble below and the brief, agonizing whimpers sneaking past his bloody lips. He could just feel its edge carving slivers from his bone before the blade slid quietly away, drenched in evergreen.

A flash of sky-blue and a stifled yelp of surprise found the wound healed, without scars or lingering blood to denote the transaction had ever taken place. The Crystal pony placed his weight on his limb and winced, but soon found the pain bearable.

“Your soldiers await your orders, milady,” he stammered, gingerly resting on his torn limb. “Rest assured, there will be no failure on our part. Princess Sparkle won't be an issue, we will see to that. ”

“Of course she won’t be,” she said happily, “but no thanks to you. I will handle her myself.”

The zebra stifled a gasp of surprise while the other rounded on the curtains in alarm. “Milady, are you mad? This is not part of your plan!”

“It is now,” she replied calmly. Then, without a word, the curtain parted before the zebra as well. “Lend me yours as well, so that I might prepare a second.”

“Never! Our lord only demands one death! The other two must remain alive. His plan will fail should they come to any harm. I will not see his vision rendered moot because you cannot control yourself!”

She drew a breath in and let it out slowly, her hoof tensing as she did. “Too long has she dogged our steps and made our lives hell. Too long has she been at our heels, nipping at us with her fortune, her wondrous abilities... her hubris. She has thwarted every plan, every attempt at reclaiming what is ours by right! She cannot be allowed to continue. Our lord demands her as well.”

“Yes, but not her head!”

“Her head, her horn, her wings, what difference does it make? As long as he has his prize he will be satisfied. Her death will be enough for me.”

Both looked at the other in shock. “He wanted her alive,” the zebra spoke up tentatively. “This isn’t about your vengeance, milady. Our lord has plans which require her to be alive. You must control yourself until then.”

“You dare tell me to... to...”

She stopped abruptly, leaving her sentence to dwindle away without conclusion as her soldiers held onto every note. They watched the curtains with teeth on edge, their muscles prepared for any shift, any possible reaction from the mare lingering just past those lazy woven folds. But then, when they heard her take another deep breath, they found their answer.

“No. No, you’re right.”

The two released those breaths they’d been holding all the while, looked at the other in relief, and then reclaimed their roles as wolves among sheep. “Your original plan, then, milady?”

“Yes,” she replied. “She dies by my hoof.”

“And the girl? What of her?” the zebra offered cautiously, watching his master’s dagger flicker just inches away.

“Twilight can wait for a while.”

"Yes, but can you?"

He watched in horror as invisible lips spread wide over transparent teeth. Petrified, he stared through his master and her devilish grin before she slipped beyond the curtains and out of sight.

"We'll just have to see, won't we?"

Chapter Three: A Red Sun Rises

Chapter Three:

A Red Sun Rises

—

At first, there was only starlight. In this inky abyss framed with twisting aurorae, every distant speck of light shone like a little pearl. Warm waves of color, ecstatic and inviting, lapped at her breast, numbing every muscle and fiber in her body. Afloat in an ocean of liquid light, there was nothing but silence. Twilight closed her eyes, let everything go, and allowed the waves to carry her onwards. At last, there was peace.

A roll of thunder, a surging pain, and the ocean boiled. Shards of the sky ruptured and slammed the water, casting her under their rolling waves. Water coursed into her lungs, scorched her throat, drowned her screams. Dimmer the glorious lights became until nothing remained but light of one tiny star hanging in the sky. She reached out a hoof, begging for rescue.

The star died out.

~~~***~~~

The ocean faded, but the pulsing pain remained. Twilight blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the musty darkness. Through a dusty haze she could distinguish the joints of a hollow wardrobe, its walls hewn of a rich, dark heartwood. Soft sunlight trickled through the cracks of a door. She gave it a nudge. It moved, but only barely.

A flicker of panic roused her other senses awake. The fibers of a rough cord sank their teeth into her heaving chest, her wings grating mercilessly against her side as she twisted for air. Every movement grated the ropes around her hooves and dug their way closer to the bone. Birdsong, tinny and distant, denoted time of day. Early morning, just barely dawn. If she left now, she might just make the ceremony.

Twilight froze. The ceremony...

Flashes of places, ponies, and promises sped through her mind as terror’s claws plunged into her heart. The meeting with Luna. Her independence. The evening with the girls. Rarity’s glass shattering. Rarity's blood. Rainbow’s body, crumpled in a heap. The bottle of champagne. Rarity staring. Rarity smiling. Rarity changing.

With every agonizing breath of stagnant air, she could feel the ropes constrict ever-tighter. Twilight took a deep breath and held on as more visions screamed through her mind: a skeleton bound in a closet, helpless; her captor gloating over her, her crown crumbling to ash in her hooves; Canterlot Castle falling to the ground; Ponyville on fire. Her stomach turned cartwheels as she struggled to hold onto anything stable. Think of something. Anything.

A night out on Ponyville’s rolling hills. Tea at sunset on the yard behind the library. Rainbow Dash speeding through Pinkie’s soap bubbles pulling spins and barrel rolls as she went. Rainbow tumbling to the ground in a tired, soapy, giggling mass. Applejack pushing her into a puddle, howling with laughter. Rarity cleaning mud off her blanket, smiling through her scowl as they wrestled in the dirt.

Slow, deep breaths came pouring in of her own volition. The fog dispelled. That's it, Twilight, she urged. Just relax. Every breath was a bucket to douse the flames engulfing her library. A deep breath in, and Canterlot reformed. An exhale, and she’d be saved. Inhale. Exhale. The pain throbbing in her temples bobbed slowly away, drifting blithely apart from her as it had on her ocean of color. Twilight took another breath, let it out slowly, and opened her eyes. I’m safe.

Dust motes danced merrily on the sunbeam streaming through the keyhole near her nose. Pressing again yielded nothing new. Locked, but with some wiggle room. Nothing the usual Security Spell couldn't contend with. Those familiar words tumbled into place as she closed her eyes. Place them in the right order, think about the incantatio—

Bolts of red-hot agony screamed through her skull, spasming muscles against her will. The pain was beyond vocalization; it was as if an axe had cloven her horn in two and embedded into her brain. She weathered the slowly dying bite of her horn's rebellion with a return to her regimen: a deep breath in, and a long breath out. Another round of breathing dulled her senses enough for her to open her eyes. Looks like magic is off the table.

Hesitantly, she scanned the closet for anything of use. Nothing came to light but a woolen bathrobe embroidered with the official Canterlot seal in golden thread, a set of thick rain barding, and a collection of wooden hangers waving freely in rows of rosewood, mahogany, and pine. Woods of the zebra lands, perhaps, to complement the suite's intended guests' creature comforts. Their size, too,Twilight mused, thinking of Ironhoof and his tasselled war regalia. These coat hangers are nearly as long as a pony.

Twilight smiled. Nearly as long as me.

She could almost watch the plan create itself as she rolled into position. Her back hooves slid precariously on the door's inner surface, but held under her pressure. A vision of Applejack trotted happily into her head, its rustic twang tickling her heart with all its purity of spirit. Now, all you gotta do is give it a good ole' buck there, Twilight. Ain't nothin' to it.

The first kick earned her a little crack and a sore spine. Her solitary beam of light grew a hair wider. An encouraging start. Another kick, another crack. Steel hinges shrieked as kick after solid kick pounded mercilessly against the door, flexing it slowly away. The progress of a few minutes summed itself up with the ability to stretch out and ease her muscles. Almost there.

A solid hit forced a new splinter of light to appear overhead; somewhere, the hinges were giving out. But not me. Not now. Twilight pushed with all her might, measuring her slow victory with every wooden fiber’s satisfying snap. Sweat trickled in and seared her eyes, adding its sharp sting to the orchestra of screaming sinews in her legs. A reinvigorated thrust, and the splintering grew louder. The beam of light widened and cool, moist air streamed in. She could feel the sun on her hooves, warm and inviting. It was just like being home.

Home. Her library. Spike asleep in his blanket. Rarity brewing tea. Fluttershy tending baby birds in the boughs outside her window. Luna standing at her side onstage, proud to call her a princess. Hugging Celestia, but not as a student. As an equal. As a princess of Equestria, not as a captive.

With a growl Twilight sent every scrap of energy and every happy memory through her legs and into the hardwood fibers below her hooves. There would be no laying low. There would be no waiting for a judgment outside her own. The boards creaked and bent violently, splintering and cracking in defiance. Twilight gave one last final growl and bucked with everything she had. Visions danced in her head as she strained, and through the haze she could see Rarity’s piercing eyes, the bottle at her side, those glittering fangs...

The sunlight on the ceiling...

With a great crack! the door splintered and snapped in half, hinges and locks bending in place with a horrendous iron scream. They clacked against the wall and fragmented, falling from their hinges to die on the ground. Breeze, cool and moist, dashed aside the stagnant air and chilled the sweat on her brow. The muscles in her legs tingled in celebration as she sat upright and savored the sunlight. One challenge: surmounted.

She kicked the door fragments unceremoniously with her hooves, then grimaced. She was still bound, but if a solid wooden door could be so easily conquered then these cords were minor trifles. The words of a flame spell came readily to her mind, but the throbbing of her head whisked them away. Magic is still off the table, she thought. Surely something else must’ve been available.

She toddled to her hooves and scanned the room. From beyond the bed tucked neatly in its corner, stained-glass windows lined the wall in a grand triptych. Curtains fluttered in the rolling breeze and cast their shroud over a divan and a pair of loveseats. Their plush, cerulean cushions lacked last night’s sleeping occupants. She perked her ears. The seats weren’t the only thing devoid of life; this wing of the castle was completely empty. Trepidation soon curdled into horror. The same couldn’t be said about the Grand Ballroom, not at this hour.

The binds about her chest and wings tightened as panic resurfaced and drove her to the garbage bin near the exit. If Fortune was kind, her captor hadn't disposed of the only chance she had for escape. That little hope was distraction enough from the embarrassment of her lopsided shuffle through the sticky residue of last night’s champagne. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good thing she was alone.

Twilight turned to the far wall. I wasn't the only one left behind...

Sunlight glinted off the wall’s polished surface, betraying a minuscule indent where Rainbow had made her impact. The glisten of blood could just barely be seen in shimmering swipes. Whatever cleaning had happened, it had been done in a hurry. Dragging herself closer, she found the carpet a black, crusted patch rank with the smell of blood. Twilight’s world went spinning as the scent of iron washed her over. Turning away towards the carpet was her sole relief, but as she counted the strands below she found that they, too, were stained with blood. She lifted a hoof, and Rainbow's blood came with her. The floor slipped out from under her as she stared, plummeting in freefall. Bile swam in her mouth as Rainbow's crippled body went soaring through her mind, again and again, the sickening crunch of the champagne bottle repeated and repeated until only the internal screaming of more happy memories could flush it out of her system.

Slowly, once the feeling passed, Twilight fought her nerves and opened her eyes. She stared at her hooves and the blood still congealing on her skin. The world slowly righted itself as understanding finally crept back into awareness. The blood hadn’t dried yet. Wherever Rainbow was moved, she was moved there recently.

Like little diamonds the carpet twinkled in a wet, winding trail, coursing its way below her hooves, around the divan, and finally to the base of the bed. She crept after it as best she could, inching across the carpet, her nose inches away from the glittering path. She rounded the divan and clenched; a bloody, half-moon hoofprint sat plastered on the cushion just inches away from her lips. It was still dripping. Rarity hadn’t finished her work.

Twilight inched silently forward to the base of the bed and drew up the bedskirt. Sunlight poured in, revealing nothing but another inky patch glittering in the sun. Against the far corner, the shadows remained. Twilight squinted, watching for movement. Something pulsed in the shadows, slowly rising and falling. The sound of feathers rustling sent shivers down her spine. She jerked at the sensation and cringed as her horn collided with the underside of the bed frame.

It was then Rainbow Dash opened her eyes.

Luminous turquoise beams glinted through the shadows, lidless and foreign. Twilight stared, entranced. Eyes morphed slowly into a face, a neck, a breast. Pale blue feathers ruffled as the figure churned for a better look. Then, slowly, a blood-stained hoof extended towards Twilight’s. Twilight recoiled, watching in horror as Rainbow's hoof turned ashen black. Necrosis crept like ink in her bloodstream, soaking through her muscles and skin. Holes melted in her hoof, but she never made a sound. No cries of pain. No pleas.

Slowly the darkness swept over her until nothing remained but a jet-black husk of a changeling mare curled in pain. Turquoise eyes fluttered like flames in a fire as they stared at each other, their breaths in time. The air rang with the sound of one final breath, but it wasn't one of pain. It was utterly calm, like a comfort before a plunge into the unknown. Twilight watched her chest rise and fall one last time, then move no more. Tears flooded her eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to wipe them away. Twilight bowed her head. No soul deserved an end so rife with misery, not even an enemy. Not even one such as her.

Silently, Twilight pulled herself away and let the bedskirt fall back into place. The room swam with color as she shuffled to the door, swept over the wastebin, and gathered up its contents. Glass glimmered before her eyes, still wrapped in its towel. She gripped it in hoof, twisted herself inwards, and hacked at her binds. Sweat and tears streaked down her cheeks as the cords slowly eased their bite and let cool air in. Twilight closed her eyes and strained. The sun was rising. There wasn’t much time.

A tiny snap, and Twilight looked down. Her skin was rubbed nearly black, but it was finally exposed. The cord lay in a heap just below, stained in her sweat. Her wings snapped open against her will, flexing victoriously as she massaged the pain away. The rush of freedom was invigorating, sending sparks of excitement from her horn. Twilight turned her eyes upwards. Perhaps it was time to try again.

Twilight pulled the words of a spell together through the blinding pain, and as they fell into place a beam of searing light, as thin as a wire, streamed from the end of her horn. The cords about her legs burned away under its light in seconds. The air was thick with the smell of smoke as she jumped to her hooves and scrambled for the door. Twilight pushed herself onwards and slammed the door open, battling her muscles with every movement. If she was quick enough, it would be the only battle she’d have to face.

Never had Canterlot been so lifeless. Beams of sunlight streamed across the ground and shimmered against the mica flakes encrusted beneath her hooves. Every racing hoofstep berated the walls, threatening to send the castle toppling down upon her. She skid past a corner as the tinny sound of trumpets sounded out from far beyond. She stopped and listened. They sounded once more, bleating their rally cry. The princesses were being called forth as scheduled. The ceremony had begun.

The world blended together as she galloped down the Hall of Heroes, blind to the happy faces smiling down at her from their stations on the stained-glass windows. She passed them by, ignorant of all save Luna. She’d be standing at her side on stage right now, a leader in her own right, a student no longer. A princess like her, strong and sure. The sound of clopping hooves and trumpets broke the silence once more, louder than before. She was getting closer. Twilight turned a corner and spied the Grand Ballroom’s door at the end of the hall. A group of soldiers stood at attention just beside it. Twilight pushed herself forward. Just hold on a little while longer.

The hallway stretched for miles as Twilight stumbled breathlessly forward. Every sound grew as distant and fuzzy as voices deep in the bowels of a cave. She screamed for their aide, reached out to touch them, begged for help. No replies. The same infection that had enveloped Rainbow bled into the edges of her vision, staining her peripherals grey. The figures standing at attention before the door remained in their places. Twilight watched them as her eyes fell in the warm embrace of sleep. Please. Please, don’t stop now...

Like hammers striking iron, hoof-steps thundered in her ears, ringing clearly through the hall. Muffled voices morphed into hazy figures growing larger with every blow. One of them, a splotch of sapphire blue, sprinted straight for her. Another, a massive grey form, ran just beside it. She shook the fog away to find Shining Armor holding her close, looking at her frantically. Over his shoulder, another stallion as grey as ash looked on breathlessly, watching them both in confusion. Shining Armor spoke, and everything became clear again. “I said, are you alright, Twilight? What are you doing out here?”

Keeping a breath for herself was, at every moment, a struggle. “You can’t... Luna, she’s in... The girls! Where are they? You can’t let them go on!”

“What’s going on, Twilight? You’re supposed to be on stage right now!”

“Rarity, she’s not who—”

“Rarity and the girls are already on stage, as you should be!” He shot a quick order to the grey stallion, then turned back to Twilight. “You can’t get cold hooves, not now! You’re supposed to be presenting your plans for the embassy!” He dropped his head, his voice growing horribly severe. “You assured me you were prepared, Twilight. You told me over breakfast this morning that you had everything under control! What happened?”

The warmth of the sunlight faded as her body went numb. Terror seized her, tightening its grip around her neck. Her brother noticed and drew closer, his words as cold as death. “You need to tell me what’s happening, Twilight, and you need to do it now.”

Twilight looked to her hooves for inspiration, but found nothing: no words to illuminate on the horrors of the previous night, and no expectation of what would come. Only a terrible promise made manifest on her skin where Rarity's binds had sealed her failure. His eyes followed hers down. There was no hiding the bruises, not from him. He jolted for her hooves, staring soundlessly at the markings the ropes had made. He turned her hoof over, wincing whenever she gasped in pain. He set her hooves down and looked up. His eyes were on fire. “Who did this to you?”

“I don’t know, but they’re going to go after Celestia and Luna! Please, you have to stop the ceremony! We need to get them out of there!”

“That ballroom is the safest place in Canterlot right now, Twilight. Half my available guard is in there right now protecting Celestia and Luna. Cadance and I even personally inspected every delegate that went through those doors." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Do you think, after everything that happened at my wedding, that I wouldn't inspect for changelings? If anyone can spot a changeling it's Cadance and I, and I can assure you you won't find a single one in that ballroom. If anyone is trying to get to Celestia and Luna, they’ll have to go through us.”

Reassuring as he sounded, something within her kept scrambling for an answer. If not in there, then where could they have gone? Twilight looked over his shoulder to the three guards standing at attention beside the door. The grey stallion towered over two smaller ones, both alike in size and color, both toting their spears menacingly. From this distance, it was difficult to make them apart. Their size, their shape, their color... They looked so alike underneath all that armor. They looked just like every other guard in Canterlot.

Twilight froze, looking at the guards with fear in her eyes. “Did you inspect the Royal Guard?”

Shining Armor recoiled. “My own guards? No, but they've been with me this whole—”

"Not those," Twilight said, pointing at his accompaniment. "The other ones? The ones inside protecting the princesses?"

She waited for an answer, but nothing came; his eyes were glazed in the first vestiges of panic, his babbled words discordant and empty. “What about the girls," Twilight continued, rousing him with a shake. "Rarity and the others? Did you inspect them?"

Shining Armor drew back, looking at her curiously. "When I asked you this morning, you said you had already checked them!" He paused, trying in vain to read her face for clues, but there was nothing there. Horror had seized her, numbing her from head to hooftip. "I asked you just this morning, remember? We were eating breakfast, and I asked you if you'd checked the girls! I remember you were in a hurry because rehearsal ran late and you were going backstage to begin the... the..." His words died on his tongue as he stared at the panic in her eyes. His eyes fell on her hooves again. A shiver ran him through as he met her eyes and found nothing but confirmation. The nightmare was true. “That wasn’t you...”

A nod from Twilight, and he was on his hooves. His eyes flared with a fire she’d never seen, his words soaked in an undeniable command. He wheeled towards the two smaller stallions and stamped his hoof. “You two, guard the door. No one enters, and no one leaves! Vanguard?” The grey stallion turned from the door and snapped to attention. Shining Armor raced forward, Twilight hot on his heels. “Sound the alarm! Our princesses are in danger!”

The ash-grey stallion froze, then stampeded for the far end of the hall, making the empty hallways tremble with a declaration of battle. Hooves clattered pell-mell on the tile as Twilight barged past Shining Armor for the ballroom door, speeding past the two other soldiers in a violet blaze. Pain thumped in her head as she applied her magic on the door. A crack emerged, just wide enough for her to dart through. Shining Armor followed close behind, whisking open the door to the sound of applause. Hundreds of multi-colored ponies swarmed all around them, a living sea all jostling for a clear view. There was barely enough room to breathe, let alone move her wings from her sides. Another round of applause prefaced a warm voice echoing from the top of the stage at the far end of the hall. Twilight’s heart raced. Celestia was making her address.

Every instinct kicked into gear as she scrambled and weaved her way through the crowd. Ponies passed by in a blur, their outbursts unheard as she fought for every inch of ground. Nothing mattered save seeing Celestia unharmed. The thought pushed her on harder, made her blind to her pain, and erased every unwelcome vision flashing in her eyes. Please let them be okay, she prayed. Please, just let them be safe.

A pocket emerged. Twilight broke through and caught her breath, looking in the spaces between nearby delegates for a glimpse of Celestia. She could just barely be seen, smiling proudly at Luna’s side. A few final words and the crowd cheered, pressing her from every angle. Another round of trumpets, and Luna stepped forward. Soon, it would be Twilight’s turn. She flung herself back into the fray. The stage was just out of reach. Another few seconds, and everything would be alright.

A sharp pain smashed her knee and sent her sprawling. A few ponies came down with her in a jumbled, angry mess. They shuffled quickly from the ground and resumed their stations, all of them disgruntled and oblivious save one: a Crystal mare staring at an apparition, confusion running rampant on her face. She looked at the stage, then back to Twilight. Back to the stage. Twilight watched her face turn pallid; she looked as though she’d seen a ghost. Perhaps she had. Twilight lunged through a gap and wrested her way to the front, breaking through the crowd and into the open air. It was then the stage came into view.

At first, the only thing Twilight could see was Luna raising her voice high over the heads of the hundreds at attention. She stood proudly in all her stoic command, breast full of hope, words lofty and soft, crashing against every wave of doubt with nothing but a clear, honest smile. She spoke not of demands and declarations, but promises, opportunities, prideful works conducted by a hopeful, unified nation. She was no battlelord, nor shrewd professor. She was Luna, just Luna, and never had she been so magnificent.

Nor had Cadance or Ironhoof who stood together behind her, friends for all their outward appearances. Cadance’s royal headdress glittered in the sunlight, her easy smile pacifying the crowd—zebra and pony alike—as though she were their natural-born mother. Lord Ironhoof, for all his animosity, looked no less than the father of his nation. His spear had been exchanged for a golden staff wrapped in ivy, a wreath of exotic branches and their vibrant berries ringing his head. Though he scowled, it was plain to see he was in his element. At the fore, side-by-side with Celestia, was where he belonged.

Luna swept closer to the crowd, revealing Celestia in her timeless yoke and gown. Her hair waved in the non-existent wind and sent light in myriad colors swimming across the floor. She looked at her sister as though she was seeing her for the first time, as though she had finally fully returned to her. She smiled, and the world went quiet. She was perfection, her body's white pillar unmarred, utterly at peace. She turned to her side, bent her head low, and whispered to a smaller, resplendently-dressed violet unicorn at her side.

A Twilight standing regally beside five familiar mares, each of them waiting patiently.

Twilight never heard herself scream Celestia's name, but she had felt her body seize and her throat roar out. She had listened as everyone and everything froze. She had heard Cadance gasp, could feel Luna's fierce eyes melt with fear. She could even see Lord Ironhoof, for the briefest second, cede some ground to surprise. But it was Celestia that chilled her most.

Celestia lazily turned her head and looked out into the crowd, scanning the room for the disturbance until slowly her eyes rested on Twilight. Confusion melted into fear, fear turned swiftly into panic, but despite everything she never ran. She didn't say a word. Her eyes became a vacuous hole from which every unspoken hope evacuated her for Twilight. A murmur of activity grew louder, but between the two of them there was only silence. Celestia blinked, and the hole slammed shut. She spared one last little smile, then gave her the smallest of bows. Celestia turned back to the Twilight at her side to find her grinning, her fangs bared. Her eyes flashed green, but still Celestia was unafraid. She merely closed her eyes, took a deep breath, smiled, and waited.

And in a fluid movement and a flash of steel, the Twilight on stage swung her hoof and plunged her dagger into Celestia’s breast. Neither of them made a sound.

A scream pierced the air. Time grew still, devoid of sound or sensation. Twilight watched Celestia, only Celestia: her eyes closed in serenity; her blood-slicked coat warping the light as she breathed deep and calm; every minuscule shiver of the knife as her heart beat against its edge. She watched her as long as she could, but soon Celestia's face lined with pain. She toppled over, her gown stained in blood.

Twilight never saw her hit the ground. She hadn't needed to. The world trembled instead.

A second scream. The masses bolted, zebra and pony alike hurtling for the door in a brutal, desperate wave. The soldiers along the walls dropped their spears and readied the charge, but hesitated. Twilight's imposter gave a shrill command, and scores of soldiers burst into emerald flames. Some scurried from their burning brethren and watched them with horror, but as the flames subsided they found their brothers as black as night, their brilliant turquoise eyes gritted together in malice. Another bark, and they pounced on their prey. Twilight looked on, numb. The battle for Celestia had begun.

A primal howl erupted from the stage as Luna charged towards Celestia, screaming her name in a song of death. Three gouts of flame washed her over as Applejack and two others leapt in to intercept. One slammed headlong into her breast and broke her stampede, but with a swift flutter of wings Luna recovered. Another changeling, her mane still inked in Fluttershy's radiant pink, lunged for Luna’s legs, buckled them under, sank her fangs into Luna's hindleg and brought her down. Luna lashed wildly at the changeling's face, her battlecries muffled behind the buzzing shrieks of her attackers. A pulse of magic pushed them back, but not far. Her mane whipped violently into a whirlwind of darkness as she howled for Celestia to rise. Furiously she struggled for her sister’s side, but with every inch closer another changeling joined the pile hell-bent on bringing her down. Twilight's muscles screamed for action, but she couldn't move. She could only stare in horror.

A roar of unbridled fury prefaced a sudden jolt as Luna's shield spell popped on and jettisoned them aside. They hadn't even hit the ground before she was upon them, her hooves tearing at their wings, her horn sweeping left and right as beam after crackling beam took out those too unfortunate to have landed. She wheeled and lashed out a hindleg, sweeping two more over. She drew it back, but not before a second changeling sank its fangs into the meat of her flank. She howled and bucked it off, but another slammed her neck and bit her as well. A steel-shod hoof slammed once, twice, thrice into his skull and sent its body flying, but every hit took a bit more energy than the last. They regrouped all around her, but as Twilight watched Luna made no effort to keep fighting. Her neck and hindlegs ran with blood. Her eyes were clouding over. Her legs shook uncontrollably.

Her eyes flicked over to Twilight, held her for the tiniest moment, then grew soft. Twilight watched, petrified, as with one final magic pulse Luna raised her eyes to the ceiling, her mane and tail swirling into a diaphanous, jet-black cloud. They whorled around her as changeling after changeling lunged onto her body and wrested her to the ground. Twilight could see Luna smile. Then, with a flash of light and a pop, she couldn’t see her at all. The space she’d resided was utterly lifeless, as though no soul had ever once trespassed where she'd made her stand. Nothing came back into the space she left behind, not even after what seemed like an eternity. Twilight’s heart stopped. Luna was gone.

An avenue to the stage emerged amidst a furious clash of swords and bolts of magic. Celestia couldn’t have been fifty feet away, her hair flowing like water over the ground. She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing. Twilight heard her name screamed from somewhere behind her. She whirled to find Cadance exchanging blasts of magic with two changelings still bedecked in their stolen armor. The pink bubble of her magic shield flashed and braced every attack, but with every strike she grew visibly weaker. She screamed once more for help, but before Twilight could move a howling flash of royal-blue broke free from the screaming crowd and lunged towards the closest changeling. She squinted and made out Shining Armor smashing aside her buzzing attackers, carving a path to his bride. Twilight looked to the door; a steady trickle of soldiers was pushing their way against the waves of diplomats scrambling for safety, led to the fight by the monstrous grey stallion from before. Pegasi soldiers streamed through the air over the wave of delegates and straight into the waiting hooves of changelings on intercept. Still, they pressed the advance. Hope surged somewhere beneath the mounting layers of fear. Just hold on a little while longer...

Twilight turned her attention back to Cadance to find her fighting at her husband’s side. A well-placed shield spell deflected a charging changeling straight through the window, ejecting him through the glass and out in the open air. Her spell faltered long enough for a changeling to break through. He was not as lucky as his companion. Shining Armor’s spear flashed with green, and the changeling was no more. Another one turned its attention towards him, but there would be no surviving his fury. A howl of rage, a lunge, a spurt of blood, and his black, broken body fell limp at the end of Shining Armor’s spear. Twilight averted her eyes as bile’s sickening taste filled her mouth.

Another battlecry broke through the clamor as Ironhoof pounced from the other end of the stage, a striped comet screaming a cry of war. Two changelings turned to cut him off, but there would be no stemming his bloodlust. His golden staff flashed through the air, smashing limbs and crippling skulls with unerring precision. A bolt of emerald magic blasted past his cheek as a second changeling lunged for his neck. Blood oozed down his face and matted the marble steps, but before the changeling could sink his fangs the great zebra reared on his hindlegs and caved his attacker's throat. The changelings body flew limply towards her, nearly bowling her over. She could see Death’s cloud glaze his eyes as he passed.

Twilight turned her eyes back to the stage, back to Celestia, and in a surge of anger found herself staring into the eyes of her imposter. Her doppelganger stood gloating over Celestia’s body, a blithe little smile on her lips. A blinding rage swept her over, and before she could even control it Twilight’s horn surged with a blinding beam of amethyst light. The imposter’s shield spell flashed and blasted the beam aside, earning Twilight a brief second to charge. The imposter howled, and a passel of changelings buzzed between Twilight and Celestia, grinning at Twilight hungrily. The mare screamed an order, and three of them lunged. A flash of light from over their shoulders and she, too, disappeared, blending into the background with an iridescent glimmer. Twilight rocketed forward to meet them. There would be no escaping, not if she could help it.

A well-timed shield spell bounced one changeling away and sent it clattering down the steps. The others darted swiftly away, buzzed to her side, flanked her, and pressed the advance. Her wings snapped open as she spun on her hoof. Another searing beam fired away at the nearest one. It leapt to the side and countered with a quick jab at her wingbone, sending electric shocks down its length as the bone took a hit. She winced, flapped weakly, and jumped out of the way, but still they rallied to head her off. A second shot from her horn sent a beam of light straight through one of their shoulders, but they were unfazed. She took stock of her situation: three in front, two beyond, and a few rallying to flank her, but not a single one bent on her death .Twilight’s heart seized with panic. This was no standoff. This was a corral. Luna wasn’t the only one they wanted alive.

Two bolts of red flashed over her shoulders, followed by two simultaneous screams. She whirled; two changelings’ necks had been pierced by red feather-flighted arrows, quivering slower and slower as their targets succumbed to death. Another scream, and another changeling fell prey to a similar shaft. Twilight threw up her shield spell and looked to the ceiling. An armor-clad pegasus bobbed overhead, an archer with a harness of bronze. He screamed for her to duck, and as she fell to the ground another arrow flashed over her head and embedded into its target. The others lay in their own blood, utterly still. She turned to thank him, but found the skies empty. She turned back to the last two changelings, and for a second she swore they took a step backwards. Twilight gritted her teeth. Not so fast.

The first one buzzed straight for her, but she was ready with a quick drop to the floor and a buck to his gut. He flew limply into the air, but with a quick tumble caught himself mid-flight and sped back to the ground. She rolled and sent a beam at the other. The changeling took the blast straight to the heart, sending it flying down the steps. She hopped to her hooves and sped for the top of the stairs, but as Celestia’s body came once more into view a great weight slammed her from the side and sent her flying. With a crash she hit the ground atop her attacker, rolling across the ground firmly within a changeling’s ice-cold death grip.

She bucked and kicked wherever she could, but the more she fought the tighter the embrace became. She jabbed her head backwards, but her horn missed its target. The changeling drew close, plunging its fangs into her neck as she let out a grisly scream. Her blood pulsed in her ears, but as she struggled she could feel a creeping numbness radiate from her neck down into her hooves. Panic reared its head. Soon, she would be just as helpless as Celestia. Just as weak as Luna.

Three more changelings advanced on her as the numbness trickled through her veins. Her vision faded, but this time it was utterly blissful. Her body gave in, her aching muscles relaxing their tense grips. There was no pain anymore. No worry about Celestia or Luna. No anger at the mare with the knife. Twilight smiled as the rocking of the waves slowly returned and lulled her to sleep. She’d been so very wrong to believe eternity was a gift. If this was death, then she was happy about her fate. A radiant light coursed through the stained-glass windows. The ponies emblazoned forever on the glass seemed to move and sway in time. Twilight’s ears perked as she listened closer. They even seemed to be humming. Singing. Screaming.

She blinked, and her vision returned. The dancing ponies morphed into a whirlwind of soldiers: two of them twirling in a dance of death, their weapons unleashed. She blinked again, and their screams turned to battle cries. Their oaths and promises went fulfilled as one-by-one, changeling after changeling fell under their attacks. A bulging ash-colored hoof lashed out and crippled a changeling forehoof, sending the changeling to its knees before the haft of a silver halberd cracked its horn and jaw in two. The stallion turned, his glacial mane and helm swinging like a tempest as he sent another changeling to his grave. A smaller pegasus soldier, his helmet’s plume a pink-striped crimson, flapped over the larger one’s back and tackled two changelings head on, pummeling them with armor-plated forehooves until they could fight back no more. The pegasus turned, ducked a pouncing changeling, then snapped open his wings and barreled towards another cluster of waiting attackers. In a few moments, he was hoof-deep in biting, clawing changelings, screaming a cry for Equestria and victory.

Sensation crept back into Twilight’s hooves as her blood boiled. Her captor wasn’t paying attention, not with the halberd-wielding stallion carving his path through the changeling attackers. She slid from his grasp and kicked his hooves out from under him. He crumpled to his knees, but with a cry of pain stood back up and dove in towards her belly. She braced his neck as his fangs flashed closer and closer to her breast, mucus dripping from his fangs as he snapped at her. Looking over helplessly, Twilight’s eyes met the halberd stallion’s. He stopped, turned, and readied his weapon. It was clear what would come next.

Twilight shoved her attacker away, earning her a few inches of space from his gnashing teeth. Her horn seared with a blinding pain as she sent a pulse in the space between them, jettisoning him a few feet into the air. It was all the stallion needed. A flash of silver, and his halberd snapped the changeling’s spine and sent his body flying. Twilight stared at the ceiling, trying in vain to catch her breath. The soldier drew close, knelt down, and pulled her to her hooves. Their eyes met, but before she had the chance to say another word he lunged back into the fray and disappeared. The only thing left of him was a battlecry for victory.

Looking around, it seemed he was right. The last remaining changelings clashed against the Royal Guard, both sides’ brothers lying broken on the ballroom floor. A dense black cluster of changelings rallied around Celestia, holding the upper ground. Twilight drew herself to her hooves and sprinted for the stage. Turning to her side, she found the red-plumed soldier right at her side. They pounded over the tile and mounted the steps, taking them three at a time. A pegasus guard swept through the gap between them, the same archer from minutes before, and as he passed sent a few more arrows into the waiting changelings. They fell to the ground and clutched their wounds, but the damage had already been done. The lines had broken, and with a howl the stallion at Twilight’s side took a few flaps of his wings, sped forward, and dove right in. What followed was calamitous.

The cluster of changelings routed as the soldier’s armored hooves slashed wing from bone, his screams chilling friend and foe to the core. He was a whirlwind, the red plume of his helmet spinning left and right as one after another crumpled under his onslaught. Twilight’s magic bolts sent a few scurrying for the windows, their fizzling pops lost in the din as, panicked, they took flight and raced for the windows. The pegasus archer landed closeby and sent arrows chasing after them. He felled one with a shaft between the shoulder blades, another with an arrow to the eye. The remainder clattered against the marble pillars as their targets looped through the broken window panes and streamed outside. Twilight watched them escape and cheered as a wave of indigo and screaming black fettered wings descended upon them and tore through their ranks. Twilight caught her breath, elated. Luna’s Night Guard had finally come.

With a pang Twilight turned to find guards stampeding to the top of the stage. Shining Armor and Cadance mounted the steps and pushed their way through, Twilight following close behind. They broke through the armored rank and file and emerged in the center of their pocket. The room went quiet. Cadance gasped and fell to the ground as Shining Armor removed his helmet and covered his heart. Twilight tiptoed forward and pushed him aside. Celestia’s blood matted her coat, but as she knelt closer she could see it glistening in the sunlight, bending the light as her chest rose and fell in time. Twilight placed her ear to Celestia’s breast, closed her eyes, and heard a single dull heartbeat. A few moments, and then another dull beat. Tears of relief streamed down her cheeks. Celestia was still alive.

She shot Cadance a little hopeful smile, but it was clear something else was wrong. Twilight looked back down, followed Celestia’s chest down towards her stomach, and found the blood’s source: a puncture wound, jagged and deep, wreathed in black. Tearing away her gown revealed the wound entire. Rivers of ink spread beneath her skin like cracks on a pane of glass, staining every vein in Death’s sober trappings. Twilight retreated, breathless, as Cadance fell on Celestia and sobbed uncontrollably. The other soldiers remained rooted to the ground, their faces lined in abyssal pain. Shining Armor pulled his bride away, but still Cadance fought against him, struggling to apply her magic on the infected wound. Twilight turned her eyes away, found solace on the far wall, watched the curtains, and tried not to cry.

The image of Rarity returned to her from beneath the sound of Cadance’s cries for help. She’d been right there in front of her. Bowing before Luna. Hugging Twilight. Playing her role flawlessly. She’d been right there this whole time, but Twilight hadn’t seen. She just hadn’t seen it. Turning back, Twilight looked at Shining Armor and found his face empty. She could almost see his heart break as he stared into the spaces over her shoulder.

She watched him a little closer. He was staring, yes, but not at nothing. Silently Twilight followed his eyes towards the far end of the room. There, by the window, the silk curtains rustled and waved. There wasn’t an open window to be found anywhere nearby.

Something was moving in the shadows.

“The curtains!” Twilight screamed, lunging for the far wall. Shining Armor bounded over Celestia and raced at her side, joined after a few seconds by what guards had energy left to run. They closed in, and through the furious pounding in her head Twilight watched the curtains roil. A glimmer of light raced from the far side and sprinted for the nearest broken window. Twilight adjusted her course, searing the air with magic bolts. Chunks of marble dusted the air before her target, coating her in a fine, white powder. It was her! Twilight shot another bolt that sent the figure crashing to the ground. Twilight closed her eyes and pounced into thin air.

She met not marble and glass, but skin, fur, and what felt like teeth. She hugged the air for all she was worth and brought her target down to the ground. A set of translucent fangs sank into her arm, but with a howl Twilight rolled and pinned her target to the ground with a growl of triumph. Shining Armor was just seconds behind her. There would be no escape, not if they could help it.

Something slimy and cold pressed itself to her heart. Twilight felt her innards curl and freeze, plummeting within herself for some unending chasm. It was as if a part of her had pulled itself from her body, and as she looked down she found no reason to think otherwise: her captive's eyes were the same shade of royal purple, her skin the same deep violet. The mare grinned, and there were no fangs. Even her hair was the same, its familiar stripes all askew. Twilight looked her over and gasped. She was Twilight, a perfect copy. Indistinguishable.

Twilight scrambled off her only to find her quarry doing the same. She turned to Shining Armor only to see her imposter mirror her perfectly. “Please, she’s the real one,” they howled in unison, both of them watching a wholly dumbstruck Shining Armor. His spear wavered in the air between them, pointing at one, then the other, then neither as he fell deeper into confusion. “No, please,” the Twilights pleaded in tandem, their eyes begging for his attention. “She’s the fake one! She stabbed Celestia!”

Twilight watched him slowly freeze; there was nothing he could do. He faltered, and as he looked between them a bark broke the still of the room. Lord Ironhoof, bloodied and furious, swept aside the Royal Guard and sprinted towards them, his eye blazing. He looked at Shining Armor reproachfully, then snatched his spear from his hooves and held its point carefully on Twilight’s throat. “Speak, or you die.”

Every word rattled down through the spear’s shaft and directly into her neck. Twilight gulped down some air. “She’s the fake one,” she said, pointing at the imposter. The other’s eyes flashed with panic. “No, it’s her,” the mare replied, pointing a hoof at Twilight. “She’s the one responsible!”

He looked between the two of them, then settled his eye on Twilight. “Give me one reason not to kill both of you, right now.”

“She’s the fake one,” Twilight said tremulously, pointing at her doppelganger. “I swear it, Lord Ironhoof! She’s the one who stabbed Celestia, the one who put you in danger! She’s the fake one! You have to believe me!”

His eye flicked over to the other Twilight, freezing her in her tracks. He returned his attention, squinting venomously. “Why should I believe you over her? You changelings will say whatever you need to survive, won’t you?” His spearpoint pressed closer. She could feel a thin trickle of blood already making its way to her heart. “Prove to me you’re the true Twilight Sparkle. You have one chance.”

Panic sent her mind scrambling for an answer, searching for anything that might curry his favor. Her eyes flicked over his face and examined the flesh seared from his cheek. She couldn’t help but wince. It looked infinitely more painful than she could’ve ever handled. It would be sure to scar.

Twilight’s ears perked. Scars...

“I should've let Shining Armor kill you when I had the chance.”

Every guard reeled in shock at her words, but none more so than Shining Armor himself. Ironhoof shot a little snort, holding her eyes with every ounce of his attention. They stared for some time, wreathed in silence. Then, with a grin, he pulled his spear from her throat, wheeled its haft through the air, and sent the other Twilight head over hoof with a solid crack to the chin. Her skin flashed from fuschia to black, then to Rarity’s porcelain-white before settling on a mix of all three. She groaned in pain, then collapsed to the ground. Ironhoof nodded to the guards nearby, then threw Shining Armor’s spear back to its master. “Welcome back, little princess.”

He turned his back as every guard rallied around the fallen imposter and sealed her in irons. Shining Armor sprang to her side, but Twilight barely noticed. Crippling waves of relief surged through her, pushing out everything else. The lights grew distant, the world warm, and before she could cry out the gentle waves of her peaceful little world returned to carry her out of mind. Twilight closed her eyes and let sleep take her over. She fell into Shining Armor’s embrace, beyond it, and soon let everything go. It was all over.

Everything was over.

"Can we come in, Twilight?"

Twilight almost couldn't hear Cadance’s little whisper. The dreary cold of the lingering shadows drew the silence tightly around her, bearing none of the fear. She savored the stillness, the calm after the storm of hooves and muttered incantations that had left nothing behind but a broken Celestia and a tear-sodden Twilight. The last thing she remembered was the sound of screaming. Zecora's pleas for another moment of work. A slamming door. Her hooves beating the bedside in agony. That had seemed like hours ago, a distant memory. She looked over the bedside and the sleeping, smiling Celestia tucked in her covers. Twilight waved her guests closer. Don't wake her, she prayed. Let her have her dreams.

I can handle her nightmares.

The memory of that pale blue hoof turning black returned in a cold wave. For a second, as she looked at her, it wasn't some changeling assassin huddling in the dark. It had been Rainbow Dash, pleading for forgiveness and solace before the end. She'd seen her eyes darken in death's numbing cloud and could still feel it tingling hours later. She had seen her life leave her only to blaze brightly in the eyes of Celestia's attacker. Twilight felt the place where that decrepit soul had pulled her energy from her. It felt as though her hoof still lingered, draining her dry. For as long as she lived, that patch of skin could never be warm again.

The memory of the battle was a whirlwind, but not those last few moments. Those moments were frozen in time, as cold as Twilight felt now. The mare had waited for Twilight to touch her. She hadn’t taken her shape without her. Once the façade had fallen, no mere recollection could’ve brought it back up again. Not without help. Not without a template. A crippling fear took hold as she thought of her friends. What chance was there that they, too, had been subject to such horror? What chance was there that they were unharmed? Twilight closed her eyes and prayed she could see them, just to know they were safe. Perhaps, when all this was sorted out, she could be with them again. Perhaps that was no longer an option.

Soft hooves enveloped her from behind and spread serenity through her body. A powder-pink chin rested in the crook of her neck, pulling her close. Twilight gave Cadance a little smile and nestled herself closer, allowing her to cradle her fears away. Her voice was melodious, but it was obvious she, like Twilight, wasn’t finished crying. "How are you doing, honey?"

"I don't know," Twilight whispered, shaking her head. "I don't know what I'm supposed to feel right now."

"You're in shock, sweetie. It's natural to be confused about how to feel."

"It shouldn't be. I should feel like wanting to kill the mare who did this, to do to her what she did to Celestia. I feel like I should want to watch her suffer, but I can't. I can't feel anything."

Cadance gave her a nuzzle. "Can you feel me?" Tears fills her eyes as she gave Cadance a little nod. Cadance gave her a kiss and rocked her close. "Then there's hope for you yet, sweetie. There's hope for you yet."

Shining Armor rounded the bed and stood scowling over Celestia. Wrinkles carved canyons in his brow; he had aged decades in the hours following the attack. He shook his head and muttered to the bedsheets, his voice miles away. "How is she?"

"Stable," Twilight replied quietly, staring at Celestia. A vein in her neck pulsed dimly beneath her flesh, ushering that black death closer. Twilight's hoof traced the sheets, but she couldn't bring herself to see the damage done. "It took them a while, but they were able to halt the course of the infection. Sleep will do her more good than anything now."

He jolted for the blankets fold, then retreated. His eyes mirrored her own; that was a horror best left undisturbed. "What could have done something like this?"

"Changeling blood." She said it so matter-of-factly it was hard to believe it was truly a fact. "Zecora said that's the only thing she knows of that can do this much damage this fast, and given what they were it seems the most likely."

Only a demon could've taught him the curse he muttered under his breath. He shook his mane. "Will she be alright?"

"I don't know. Zecora says her body is fighting the decay as it should, but if we don't find a cure she won't be able to keep it up for very long." Twilight shuddered. Even Zecora, proficient in her craft, hadn't been confident. "If she takes another turn for the worse..."

"What then," whispered Cadance. Twilight leaned against her cheek. "I don't know," she replied. "The scales tip against her, the poison takes hold, and she... she passes."

"Passes?" A shroud of disbelief lowered over Shining Armor. "What you're saying is impossible. Celestia is immortal!"

He didn’t miss the little glance she and Cadance shared. "She feels everything you do, Shining Armor," Twilight offered, "especially pain. No pony who's a pony can avoid feeling pain. The only thing that separates you from her—you from Cadance and I—is the magic to prevent the body from dying naturally. Her magic can stave off apoptosis, prevent her cells and organs from decaying. In a perfect system, her lifespan is indefinite."

"And now?"

Twilight's head fell. "Now she's lost the ability to fight. Her magic is repairing cells as fast as the poison is destroying them, but no source of magic is limitless. Soon, she won't be able to take it anymore. The poison will eat her alive from the inside out, and then she'll pass."

He stared at her incredulously. “Then why aren’t you doing something about it?”

“What am I supposed to do, Shining Armor? Every apothecary and physician in Canterlot Castle did everything they could. Zecora and her kin plied every potion to no effect! We've tried everything!”

Hell itself seemed to blaze from his eyes. “Bullshit! You of all ponies should know we have one power those monsters can never get their hooves on!"

Cadance tensed and went cold, and in a wave of horror Twilight felt that portion of her bent on seeing her friends recede to some hole deep inside, somewhere she couldn’t feel. A chill ran through her as she pictured the glint in her attacker's eye, imagined the sensation of her warmth flowing through her hoof as her attacker transformed into her perfect copy. Cadance, too, had experienced that horror. She, too, had had her essence stolen from her. All it took was a brush of the skin. A shared glance. A template.

Twilight turned to him, hollow. It was no horror anymore. It was a reality. “They already have.”

A cold wave of understanding washed his anger away. “No,” he whispered, backing away. “You... you’re mistaken, Twilight. You’re wrong. You have to be wrong!” He turned to Cadance, his eyes pleading for support. “Cadance, please... Please tell her she’s wrong! The girls are fine! Tell her they're fine!”

An icy tear splashed on her shoulder as Cadance shook her head. “Changelings can’t change without their subjects, honey. They have to come into contact with them in order to take their sha—”

Like a tempest he thundered a resounding “NO!”, rending the stillness in a sweep of sound. Ripples of surprise coursed through her as he, with a sweep of his hoof, dashed aside the bedside table and sent its contents crashing to the ground. Cadance covered a scream and quivered as he slammed the wooden slats with his hooves, slivers and shards flying to the corners of the room with every tear-drenched howl of rage. Flecks of his blood coated the ground, but still he kept on fighting. Twilight watched him with longing. How she wished she could join him.

When he had finished, he kicked aside the last remaining nails and boards and sat down hard, staring into oblivion. "I should've been there," he said to himself. "I should've been right there to take it. It should’ve been me."

"Honey, don't say that,” Cadance pleaded, drawing close. “I never want to hear you say anything so heartless again, do you understand me? Never again!”

"It's my fault she's injured, and it's my fault Luna's gone! Anyone in their right mind can see that!" He glanced at Cadance, but just couldn't hold her eyes. "I've failed her, Cadance. I've failed them both."

"You haven't failed anyone! There's no way you could've gotten to her in time!"

"That's no excuse. None of this would've happened had I inspected the girls beforehand, or hoof-picked the guard, or been there on stage instead of taking patrol! There’s no way this isn’t my fault!” He turned to Twilight. "I must pay the price for this. I have failed in my duties as Captain of the Guard by allowing my princesses to come to harm. My life will be the price of my failure."

Cadance was more livid than Twilight had ever seen her. "You selfish bastard," she whimpered, her bottom lip trembling uncontrollably. "You heartless, selfish, self-centered jerk..."

"I have to pay for this, honey,” he muttered. "I have to atone. I don't have any other choice."

"You could choose to stay with me, not throw everything away over something you can’t control!"

“Honey, I didn’t mean—”

“Oh? What did you mean? Explain that to me in a way I’ll understand! Tell me how sacrificing yourself will do anyone any favors!”

Trembling, he shook his head. "You wouldn't understand, Cadance. She's been my prin—"

"I wouldn't understand? I wouldn't understand?!" A slap cracked the air, leaving a perfect hoofprint blazing on his face. His eyes watered with pain, but he held his tongue. Cadance stared up into his eyes, utterly heartbroken. “You don’t get to talk to me like that! You don’t get to rip me apart and act like I don’t matter!”

“Please, I didn’t mean—"

“Not another sound, mister.” Slowly her breathing calmed enough for her to push through her tears. “You don’t get to say things like that and expect me not to care! You don’t get to be so cruel, not to me! When I married you, I married your insecurities, your problems, and your damn foolish pride!” Tears streaked down her cheek as she finally broke and leaned against him, pulling him as close to her heart as she could muster. “You don’t leave the ones you love! You don’t leave them behind where they can’t follow!”

She clutched him tight and howled into his armor, permitting the flood of tears to finally come storming out. He remained ever her shield, rubbing her back and holding her close, his eyes closed.

Twilight watched her belly heave as she struggled for control. Twilight watched her brother sit in silence, a tear carving slowly down his bruising cheek as he stared, lost. She turned to Celestia and watched her smile. Somewhere beyond Canterlot, somewhere beyond these dour walls, perhaps in the recesses of her memories, there must have been something worth smiling about. There must have been something worth staying hopeful for. As sure as her sun beaming outside, there must have been something. Something worth leaving her for.

“I refuse to accept your resignation,” Twilight said quietly. Cadance clenched tighter in relief, but Shining Armor looked no less troubled. Twilight gave Celestia one final smile. “I will need my Captain of the Guard at his post if Equestria is to be defended in my absence.”

Shining Armor removed himself from Cadance and stared, dumbstruck. “What are you saying, Twilight?”

Twilight bowed her head. Don't give in. Not now. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. You know what I have to do.”

“You can’t ask for this,” he growled, rounding the bed. “You can’t leave us, not now! I won’t allow it!”

"I love you, Shining Armor, but you can't tell me what to do."

“I can, and I will. You may be a princess, but I’m your older brother. It’s my job to protect you, and as long as I’m living that’s exactly what I’m going to do!”

“I don’t need protection. I need Celestia.”

“Don't you think we need her too?” Never had she seen him so afraid, and never had she been so afraid as a result. “I swore an oath to protect you, Twilight. I made a promise to Mom and Celestia that I would always be there to take care of you, no matter what. You can’t ask me to stay behind and break that promise! You can’t go, not when you’re needed here!”

She took his hoof in hers. “No, brother. You’re needed here. You have to do your job, and I mine. Assemble your guard, erect the defenses, and protect Celestia. I’ll go find Luna and the girls and bring them back home. You know it's what Celestia would’ve asked of me.” She gave his hoof a little squeeze. “You know I don’t have any other choice.”

“You could choose to remain here where it’s safe!”

“What makes you think, after what happened today, that Canterlot is safe anymore?”

A pall drew over his face. She had hit on the truth. Never had they been so vulnerable. Looking into his eyes, she could see that he knew she was right. He had to let her go. “Let me go in your place. Let me get her back. I have enough soldiers. I can spare enough to scour the world for her.”

“No. I need you here. As your princess, I am charging you with defense of the city. Portion out your guard to the outlying towns as you see fit, but not so much that ponies start asking questions. We can’t let anyone panic. We can’t let anyone know.”

There was some acidic stain on her tongue that made him recoil. “You would lie to them?”

“I will do what needs to be done, as will you.” She could feel him shudder, for she'd felt it too; for a moment, she'd sounded just like Luna. “I will not allow anyone else to come to harm if I can help it. If Equestria is to recover from this, we need the Elements, and if Celestia is going to do the same, she needs Luna.” She nodded her head, resolute. “These are my orders as your princess. You would be wise to obey them.”

Twilight looked at them both and could sense they were staring at a stranger. Only Celestia, with her ever-present smile, seemed to know how she felt. Twilight stroked her hoof. “I can’t lose her, Shining Armor. I can’t bear to think of what might happen if she wakes up and finds me missing, finds her world in tatters on the brink of war... finds Luna gone. It nearly killed her once before.” Celestia’s hoof was so wonderfully warm beneath her own. If only she could stay here forever, knowing she would remain too. “I have to do this for her. I have to. I don’t want to leave any more than you want me to, but I have no other choice. I’m not capable of running this country by myself, and I never have been. I never will be.”

"Don't say that, honey," Cadance said. "I know it's a lot, but you... You’re the most capable princess I’ve ever seen! I wish I could do a fraction of those things you can! I’m jealous of what you’re capable of, of what you’re destined to do!"

“I don’t have a destiny. I should never have become a princess.”

She could almost hear Cadance's heart shatter. “You don’t mean that, honey. I know you don’t mean that.”

"But I do mean it! You heard Chancellor Strata yesterday morning. You heard him speak up. You may have stopped him, but you know that what he said was the truth. I can’t do this, can’t you see? I can’t be like them! They adore Celestia and Luna, not me. They only listen to me because it would insult them if they didn't." Twilight averted her eyes and watched Celestia dream, wondering what solace she'd found from this hell. "I can't do what they do alone. I have to find Luna, and I have to find a way to make Celestia better. Equestria needs a sun and moon. They don't really need a Twilight."

Twilight could almost hear Cadance's tears hitting the floor through the quiet, raspy breathing from beneath the covers. With every second, the promise of Celestia’s recovery lived with her, hovering just over the sun-baked horizon outside. All it would take was a hoof strong enough to journey out and bring it home. Why couldn't they see that? "I have to save her, and I have to do it alone. I can't risk anyone else getting hurt because of me."

"Too late," Cadance said with a wet little chuckle. Wiping her cheeks dry, she whirled around the bed and pulled Twilight close. She gave her ear a little nuzzle, her whisper for them alone. "I love you more than anything, Twilight, but sometimes you make me want to scream." Twilight couldn't help but laugh, and that little dash of happiness was relief beyond measure. Cadance pulled away and gave her a smile. "I wish I could change your mind, but I know you well enough to know that's nearly impossible. You care too much, Twilight. It's what I love about you most." She stamped her hoof and smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "How can I help?"

Shining Armor stepped forward. "Cadance, darling, I don't think you're considering every aspect of this. We already have one nation to worry about. We can’t take on another."

"What choice do we have? If Celestia gets any worse, it won't just be Equestria that's impacted. The sun won't set, crops will wither, and ponies will die. We risk famine, drought, and a whole host of other things if we don't help her stay healthy."

"And how do you propose we do that? It could be weeks before Twilight gets headed in the right direction, and if she’s struggling now, how can we be sure Celestia will be able to hold on until she starts on the right path? If Zecora can’t fix her and the Elements are gone, how can we possibly help?”

Cadance gave Twilight a smile. "Twilight will figure something out. We just have to buy her time. In the meantime, we'll call on our allies and negotiate all the help we can."

"Our allies..." He shook his head and snorted. "We are Equestria's allies, honey. The zebras won't help us, not after Ironhoof persuades them to avoid us like the plague. The dragons are too violent to be reasoned with, and the griffons? They didn't even bother to show up! The Crystal Empire is the only friend Equestria has right now, and we don't have the resources to support two nations at once!"

Twilight's ears perked. "I'll talk to Zecora's tribal elder and convince him to help out. He told me he would do anything to help facilitate a good relationship. I bet he can be reasoned with!"

"You can try," Shining Armor said, shaking his head. "But you won't get anywhere. They don't have any reason to trust us, not after today. We put their leader on stage next to a madmare and nearly got him killed. If I know anything about Ironhoof, it’s that he’ll turn the tide against you the second he gets wind of your departure. He can’t be trusted.”

“Can I not?”

A looming shadow crossed the threshold and crept over the sheets, shrouding Celestia in darkness. Shining Armor turned and bristled as Lord Ironhoof, reclothed in his war regalia, stepped uninvited into the room. With a rustle of tassels and metal he plodded deftly to the base of the bedframe, eyeing Celestia emotionlessly. "Zecora spoke true. Celestia has fallen."

Twilight placed herself between him and the prey of his thoughts. "For the time being, only. Nothing will keep her down for long. If you think you can take advantage of this, you're sorely mistaken."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He brushed past her and tiptoed closer to the bedside, looming over them all. Celestia churned in her sleep, making him smile. "To think the flame of eternal life could be so easily snuffed out." Her hair flowed over his hoof like water, glittering as it met the sun. He watched it in awe, ignoring Shining Armor's violent eyes. "The sun incarnate. It’s hard to believe she’s been your figurehead for millenia, so precariously perched a dagger’s length away from dooming you all."

"Get the hell away from her," Shining Armor said, snarling. Ironhoof shot him a glance, took a final look, then allowed the last strands to tumble from his hoof. Twilight watched them and stifled her concern. Already Celestia's mane was wasting away.

Ironhoof set his hoof down heavily and eyed Twilight with a scowl. "I gave you a chance to prove yourself, little one, out of respect for Celestia. She was worthy of that one allowance. To believe you deserve the same regard would be a grave misstep." His tongue traced his teeth beneath his lips. "What plan have you to fix this?"

Twilight watched her brother. He shook his head as discretely as possible, his eyes pleaded for reconsideration, but she couldn’t find any justification. The fault was her own, no matter what either of them said. There would be nothing gained by lying, not to him. The truth was all that mattered.

“This is all my fault, Lord Ironhoof. As a princess, it's my responsibility to ensure that Celestia and Luna are capable of performing their duties. In that respect I'm to blame, not Shining Armor. He did everything he was asked and more.” Ironhoof's eyes returned to hers, earning a little sigh from Shining Armor. “I had the chance to prevent this from happening, and I failed. Therefore, I see no reason to put anyone else in danger. I will be leaving Canterlot before the day is out to find Luna and bring her home. Based on our reports, our best bet is that whomever is responsible is somewhere to the north, so that's where I plan to start. I’m leaving Princess Cadance and my brother here in the castle to look out for Celestia until I return.”

“We know who’s responsible,” he growled. “Your damned Elements, in collusion with that changeling monster!”

“The girls had nothing to do with this! You fought them too, you know they were imposters!”

“Then I demand the Elements of Harmony and their bearers be shown to me! Bring them forth! Let them stand testament to your words!”

Twilight sat in silence, and soon the same realization dawned on him as it had Shining Armor. “You have truly doomed us all, Twilight Sparkle,” he said, advancing on her. “Your greatest weapon is gone, and with it, any hope of saving your princesses or Equestria.”

“I have a plan to fix this,” Twilight asserted, though every part of her begged her to cry, to scream, to fall apart. But not in front of him. Not until he was gone, when she was alone. Not until the flame of hope had been extinguished. “I have a plan that will make everything right.”

“Do you? What hope is there now that you’ve given our first and last defense to the enemy?”

Twilight took a deep breath. “I’m going to get Luna back. I’m going to find the Elements. I’m going bring whomever is responsible to justice, and I’m not coming back here until I do.”

He chortled horribly. "Noble, but foolish. To leave Equestria undefended would be a threat not only to me, but every soul in your borders. Besides, you'll never survive the Northern Wastes without a guide."

"She won't be alone." Shining Armor stepped forward. Though he didn’t look at all pleased, he gave Twilight the most sincere smile he could muster. Twilight took it in and held onto it. In the face of Ironhoof, there could be nothing more useful than a little encouragement. "Cadance and I can defend Equestria on our own if we pull back every soldier in our possession. Defenses will be tight, but we can spare a few hooves to help.”

“A few against the world. How poetic.”

“It’s better than doing nothing,” Cadance interjected. “Twilight is the only one who can do this. She’s got more brains than any of us, and she’s stronger than you think she is. She just needs a little help.” She paced closer, her eyes pleading for attention. “Please, my lord. We’ve been your friends for millenia, and never have we wavered in our dedication. If your fealty to Celestia could but extend to helping Twilight, you could help save millions. If you could but spare a few soldiers to help her, we—”

Ironhoof raised his hoof, silencing her in a swift movement. He held the silence for a moment, then shook his head. “You beg for too much, princess. The zebras will not help you, not in this endeavour.”

The three of them jolted forward, but Ironhoof stood his ground, utterly unfazed. "You can't do this," Cadance barked. "You can't abandon your friends!"

Ironhoof chuckled. "How deluded you must be to believe we could ever be friends. I have spoken with the other lords, all of whom are in agreement: to linger would invite this curse to our lands and threaten our tribes. We cannot allow this to occur. We depart on the morrow."

Twilight stood in shock. "You can't do that! You pledged your friendship to Equestria, said you would defen—"

"I promised nothing, not to a helpless pup like you. My allegiance was to Celestia and Luna, and neither are able to uphold their oaths any longer. If they cannot, then why should I?" His neck bristled as he stared deep into her eyes. "I gave you my ear, and instead you threatened my neck. I will not be insulted further."

"Insult you?" Cadance snarled, stepping to Twilight's side. "She didn't do anything to insult you, you pompous brute! You are bound by ties as old as Celestia! It's your obligation to come to her aide, no matter what!"

"Is it? Lest I'm mistaken, this summit never officially concluded. Luna's precious treaty goes unsigned, as it will remain. To join our borders would mean carrying you forward when the merciful thing would be to make your passing swift. Lighten the load for the sake of all."

Twilight could barely breathe. "Why are you doing this? We had an agreement to trust one another! You can't rescind your help, not when we need it most!"

"I can do as I please, and I shall in order to protect my nation from your mistakes. It was the folly of my forebears to place their trust in the weakness of ponies. It will not be mine." He plodded to the door, looking over his shoulder at Twilight. He grinned, and her insides curdled. "Think about it in terms of scars, little princess. Sometimes, you must sever the limb to save the body entire.”

He threw open the door and paced back into the hall without a backwards glance. Cadance closed her eyes and sighed. Shining Armor muttered a vile curse under his breath. Twilight watched him depart, staring at the door until he disappeared from view. “What do we do now?”

“Leave him to me,” Shining Armor said quietly. “If he won’t help us, he sure as hell won’t get anything out of us. I’d tell you not to worry about it, but there’s no knowing how he’ll act if he doesn’t see results soon.” Despite his efforts, fear weighed his words. “You don't have a second to waste."

"Then let's not waste them." Twilight took a step towards the door, but it felt too unnatural. Something hadn't yet been taken care of. She turned to Cadance, unable to hold her eyes. "Can... can you two give me a minute alone with her? I need to say goodbye."

Cadance's eyes watered as she smiled. "Of course," she said, her voice like honey. "We'll be right outside."

Twilight nodded her thanks and crept to the bedside, counting the seconds until the sound of the door closing echoed around the room. The sun rose high beyond the curtains and threw sunbeams in the gaps, splitting the room into neat, even portions. Celestia stirred, brushing against Twilight's hoof. Still warm, and still smiling. Twilight couldn't help but smile too. What wonderful place could she have retreated to to escape all this? Was she thinking of the pain? Was she thinking of Twilight?

Twilight cradled Celestia's hoof in her own, pressed it against her cheek, and closed her eyes. For now, there was nothing to fear. For another few moments, there was no looming disaster, no danger, no grievous injury or ticking clock. For now, there was only Celestia, protecting her always, ever at the ready to wash her fears away. Twilight found herself crawling onto the bed as gently as she was able. She slipped beneath a wing and drew close, savoring Celestia's warmth. It was almost like she could feel her too.

“Do you remember my first night away from home?” Celestia churned slightly, but made no response. Twilight turned her hoof in her own. “There was a thunderstorm that night. You remember the one. I had stumbled into the Hall of Heroes, looking for my mom.” Twilight grinned. It had seemed so long ago in every recollection prior, but not with Celestia here. “I was a mess when you found me, but you told me everything was okay. You said the thunder was Luna’s way of saying ‘hello’, that she couldn’t meet me personally but wanted to tell me I shouldn't be afraid of her night. You told me everything about her and your adventures, your plans for the future...” Twilight bit her lip. She couldn’t cry, not now. “You brought me to your room and played with me, remember? We spread out an atlas and pretended to travel anywhere I touched. We made it all one big adventure until the thunder died down. You let me fall asleep right here, right next to you. Don’t you remember?”

From deep within Celestia groaned and jerked in pain. Cautiously, Twilight pulled the blanket aside; pure-white gauze had been wrapped tightly around her chest, but even now the black stain of blood lingered just out of reach. Twilight peeled back a patch of gauze and gagged. A deathly splotch blazed beneath her stitches, painting her veins black. With every heartbeat, Twilight could see them extend their reach, cell by cell. Soon, there would be no area left untainted.

Twilight slid the bandage back into place, but once removed it refused to reapply itself. Tears flooded her eyes as attempt after attempt fell short of fixing the damage done. The wrappings sloughed off her chest, revealing that deathly sun beaming proudly in defiance. Nothing could hide it from her. Nothing could erase it from her chest, no matter how hard she begged. No matter how hard she cried.

Twilight buried her face into the sheets and smothered the howls breaking free from her heart, suffocating them before they could be birthed into the world. She could feel them roaring out from the chasm her heart had once resided, gathering mass until they could contain no more stifled tears. Grief thundered in her throat as she heaved and struggled for air, but as Twilight wiped away her tears she found Celestia smiling from far away. Even now, apart from her, she was thinking of better times, of happier days. Twilight must have been in there somewhere. Somewhere warm. Somewhere forgiving.

The cavern in her breast grew cold, but it wasn't nearly as frightening as it had been before. In this moment, it was just the two of them in this whole world. They would hold on and weather it together. This storm would pass.

Not all things last forever.

Chapter Five: The Crystal Frontier

Chapter Five:

The Crystal Frontier

~~~***~~~

A womb of green and grey. She stirs, cradled in an easy sleep.

A jagged knife rends the sac, spilling her mercilessly on the stones below.

She looks up, amniotic slime dripping from her face.

“It’s been a while. Hasn’t it, Luna?”

Silent, she bears her cheek.

The first strike slices to the bone. She turns the other, gritting her teeth.

‘Tis but the passing of rage. ‘Twill all be over soon.

Another slice. She whimpers. No knife should cut so deep.

A pause. The blade plunges into her neck.

Its length flashes red; its song, cruel.

The Shadow smiles. “You deserve this.”

Luna closes her eyes. I owe this much...

Another plunge. A frown.

Another. A tear.

Another. “Mercy.”

“Mercy!”

"MERCY!!!”

~~~***~~~

“LUNA!”

Twilight jolted from her bed, her scream ringing out alone. She stilled her thumping heart, listening breathlessly. No singing blades. No screaming Luna. Nothing. She massaged her temples, looking with shame to the silken sheets drenched in her sweat. Her horn’s throbbing dulled. Slowly, the image of Luna in pain passed from her mind. It was just a dream. It didn't mean anything...

She sat upright, wiping the sleep from her eyes. A thin stream of sunlight bisected the empty spaces of a well-appointed field tent, a structure tall enough that, had she wanted, she could take a quick flight to stretch her wings. Twilight looked to her bedding: a padded blue silk cushion and matching sheets more at home in Celestia's chambers than here with her, miles from any throne. She paced for the entrance flaps, her cheeks warming feverishly with every gained yard. No one pony should be accorded something so lavish. Not now...

Crumbling stone walls towered all around her as she stepped outside. A trio of birds tumbled through the spaces in a shattered window, flitting to their nests in the decaying entrance hall’s rafters. Rotting tapestries added a softness to the crisp echo of her hoofsteps as she made her way outside and into the sunlight. A part of her felt as sickly as the old building’s threshold. The Zebra Embassy had seen far better days than these.

Haven’t we all.

Her weariness evaporated as she stepped into the street. The Crystal Palace, miles away, was the only thing with even a trace of life in it. Every house and store stretching down the long, glistening thoroughfare made the embassy appear almost gaudy. No crystal ponies, but no enemies lurking in the morning shadows. No danger, but no life. Only an unspoken expectation of further devastation to come.

Twilight closed her eyes, finding clarity in the calm morning light. Looking back on it, she'd never taken stock of her surroundings when she’d arrived in this quiet corner of the Crystal Empire. Her evening walk to camp, the padded cushion, that palace of a tent... She hadn’t remembered any of it, so quickly sleep had taken her. The only constant memory was her guard, Summer, their atlas hefted on his shoulders, stepping into her teleportation spell with enough courage for them both. Looking now, there wasn’t a trace of him to be found. Surely he has to be around here somewhere.

Finding nothing in the streets, Twilight turned her eyes to the sky. Looking about to ensure she was alone, Twilight gave a few test flaps and slowly pulled herself into the air, searching for her bodyguard’s familiar red crest. When her wings began to ache, he gave a few more flaps and alighted on a cloud. Here, she found no Summer: not in the sky, down below, nor beyond. Instead, the expanse of the northern plains spanned out languorously below. The clouds parted, and in a heartbeat she lost what breath she had left.

The northern plains of the Crystal Empire rolled out in a sea of glistening gold, wind-born waves forming and churning their way to the far horizons like a living blanket cradling the world in its arms. Not a building or castle for miles, or even dozens of miles. Only an endless expanse of grass, as peaceful and genial as Celestia herself. But as Twilight squinted northwards, its warmth stopped dead. The Northern Ranges crouched on the horizon, clouds rolling from its rocky spine like steam from the nostrils of an angry dragon. It was a challenge, one Twilight accepted with a defiant grin. Giving the scene one last look to commit it to memory, she tumbled from her cloud and came to a running trot on the ground. There’d be nothing stopping them from traversing those peaks within the fortnight. That all depends on our navigator...

She rounded the embassy walls to find their wagon laden with supplies. Nearby: a firepit, a happy blaze in its heart. A cauldron bubbled above it, coughing up an aroma so sweet Twilight’s eyes fluttered by the smell alone. Breakfast: piping hot and ready to eat! Twilight stepped closer, her mouth watering, but just as she drew close its chef pranced merrily around the corner.

In this moment, he looked as though no darkness could ever intrude on this: his own little kingdom. With his eyes closed he hummed a little tune, a bundle of sticks in his mouth, his gait lively and quick. He hop-stepped to his fire and dropped his bundle with a proud unfurling of his wings. He stirred a ladle with one wingtip, brushing his cargo into the fire and whipping it aflare with his other wing. The fire roared its thanks, and he, with a final sigh, plopped himself happily onto the nearest stone, opening his eyes to survey his handiwork.

His eyes fell on Twilight, and in a flash he became a different pony altogether.

“Princess!” His hoof clacking to his forehead with a little smack. He winced, recovering with a bow. “I didn’t know you were awake!”

“Only just,” Twilight said, stepping closer to the fire. His eyes flashed to her hooves, and before she could say otherwise he pounced over his fire, sweeping away sticks and various clutter from the ground.

“I’m sorry, ma’am! I should’ve cleaned before you’d arrived!”

“Please, don’t fret so much! It’s no big deal.”

“But it is,” he said, frantically brushing around Twilight's hooves. “Just because we’re outside the castle doesn’t mean I can shirk my duties! I... I should have woken you, ma’am, the moment breakfast was ready!”

“Well, I’m here now.” Twilight could feel her mouth become a lake as their breakfast’s scent washed her over. “Would you mind if I—”

“Allow me, please!” He scurried to the wagon and whipped out a bowl and spoon with a flourish. He rubbed them clean, then ran to his place and held them out. Had he bowed any lower, Twilight would’ve believed he’d been offering it to Celestia herself. “Your bowl, Your Highness! I beg your forgiveness, I didn’t really get the time to clean it out! Had I known you’d be waking, I’d’ve washed it twice! No, thrice!”

“Really, it’s no issue. Could you—”

“It is an issue! You deserve only the finest, Your Highness, and it’s my job to provide it! Colonel Vanguard would say the same thing!” He gasped horribly. “Please don’t tell him I failed to clean your utensils, milady! He’d have my head!”

“I seriously doubt he’d—”

“But he would! He’s not one to look kindly on mistakes, but mistakes against a princess? Please, I’ll do anything! Just don’t tell him!”

“I wouldn’t dar—”

“Can I get you some water, Your Highness? Coffee? Tea? I brought a fine Zebra brew, straight from Cairoan! I have locals, if you like those better! Anything to please you!”

“Please, just—”

“We have sugar, too, if you need to sweeten your meal. I thought I added enough! Please, if you find you can’t eat it then I can whip up another ba—”

“Compass Rose!!!”

In a heartbeat his face drained of color, his bright eyes wide-open in horror. He prostrated himself before her, quivering horribly. To see him cowering like that made her feel ill. As calmly as she could Twilight sat down and lifted his eyes, a serious weight on her sweetest of tones. “You don’t need to pamper me, okay? I can take care of myself.”

“But it’s my job to—”

She placed her hoof over his mouth. “Not another sound”. Once he'd stopped shaking, she removed her hoof and gave him a smile. “I appreciate you making breakfast, but please, for my sake: calm down. If you desire to do anything for me, do that first.”

He nodded quietly. Then, after a little gulp, whatever nervous spirit had possessed him released him from its clutches. “Thank you, milady,” he said, breathing one last sigh. “I... I apologize for my behavior. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know you didn’t," Twilight said, shepherding him close to the fire. “You have orders. I can understand that.”

He plopped down on the grass, his eyes on his hooves. Twilight placed herself on a nearby stone and watched him, awaiting his nervous spirit’s imminent return. Without his armor, it was a shock to know just how different he was from the guards with whom she was familiar. The average Canterlot guard was a bleak monochromatic statue, but not him. Every color-rich inch of him bubbled, alive with an energy no frantic string of needless apologies could fully encapsulate. He was the same earthy red-tan as a clay pot fresh from the kiln, his fur catching the sun’s fire with an orange twinge. His forest-green hair was weightless, whisking in the wind like the tall pines of home. His wings flickered, and as he rustled them into position Twilight found a little sextant sitting squarely on his flank. She caught his eyes, saw the little embarrassed flicker in his face, and held her bowl out with a grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Compass Rose.”

He looked up, shocked, a smile spreading slowly on his lips. "You... you know my name?!"

"Of course I do," Twilight said happily. "Summer told me yesterday. He also said that you were quite the wilderness survival expert. Is that right?"

His cheeks turned beet-red. "Summer's too kind, Your Highness! I'll defer to he—"

"Please, just call me Twilight." Her hoof shot up to stop the protest she knew would come. "I'm aware your colonel has ordered you to treat me as you would Celestia, but I'm quite fine without being doted on. I'll permit 'ma'am', I’ll suffer 'milady', but please: no 'Your Highness'. I don't think I could ever get used to that."

"As you wish, ma'am. And as far as my experience goes, I can only hope you'll find me worthy of being your escort."

"If that oatmeal tastes as good as it smells, I think we'll get along just fine!"

“Thank you, ma'am.” He ladled out a heaping portion of thick, creamy oatmeal into her bowl. It smelled like something beyond bliss, and as she took a bite her heart and stomach filled with pure summer sweetness. Warmth seeped into every muscle like a soothing bath. It wasn’t long before she’d sucked it down and held her bowl out again, begging him for another. His face lit up with pride as he gave her another portion. “I’m glad to see you’re enjoying it!”

“How could I not? This is wonderful!"

He blushed. "You're far too kind, ma'am. All the credit belongs to someone else. I just had the honor of following her recipe."

"And what, pray tell, is that recipe?"

“Wild oats, cinnamon, sugar, honey, a touch of granola, and some dried apples, ma'am.”

Twilight paused. “Apples?”

“Of course,” he chirped, helping himself to a bowl. “Pulled them from Canterlot’s larder myself, ma’am. Finest apples in the valley." He played with his spoon, a little smile on his lips. "I... I wanted you to have something to remind you of home."

He said it so nonchalantly that, at first, Twilight didn't hear him. His oatmeal was a symphony of flavor, every clump of sugar and candied grain a note on a page. Then, as his words hit home, the song hit its crescendo. This taste was harvest time, hoof-polished and quality-controlled, both lovingly coddled and sternly commanded as only Applejack knew how. This was a cold and frothy moment after a long day, a well-earned treat for a labor of love. This flavor was home, and the apples Sweet Apple Acres’. This was her friends and their every shared moment wrapped in sugar and served with a smile. Twilight swallowed her mouthful, looked to the cauldron, and beamed. There would be plenty to last for the cold days to come.

Home would never be as far away as she’d thought.

"Summer was right about you..."

Compass Rose stopped dead. "You... you were talking about me? With Summer?"

"Only a little." His ears fell a bit. Twilight refilled her bowl with a smile. "He mentioned that you've always been kind to him. I can see why he thinks that. I'm guessing that recipe didn't call for apples, did it?"

"No, ma'am. My mother would have a fit if she saw me take liberties with her cooking."

"I'm glad you did." Twilight bowed her head. "Thank you, Rosy. This breakfast was just what I needed."

They turned to their bowls and poured themselves into eating, forgetting their circumstances and bonding over their meals, hearts united in an easy bliss. When they finished they licked what apple bits and granola they could, then surrendered their bowls to the nearby washtub. He set to cleaning without orders. Twilight turned to find another bowl full to its brim with their breakfast. It had gone to waste, by the looks of it. "I take it this is the colonel's..."

Compass Rose swept the bowl into the tub, grimacing all the while. "He had to leave early," he mumbled distantly. "Between making sure Summer would establish a forward camp to his specifications and securing the prisoner to yours, he's had his hooves full. Breakfast is the last thing he needs to waste his time on." He shrugged. “His words, ma’am...”

A part of her begged to address the topic of Vanguard, but their prisoner, like her master, had a special knack for seizing control of her thoughts. "How is she?"

He nodded towards the wagon, his soapy hooves quivering anxiously. There, Twilight could see a tightly-curled black ball dozing beneath the wagon’s axle. The mere act of sleeping betrayed that pony part of her that hadn't been fully corrupted, the only thing Twilight felt any sympathy for. A part of her wanted nothing more than to shake Penumbra awake, bring her from whatever dreams she'd been having to face the world she'd made to suffer. But that would involve touching her, and not even one of Compass Rose's nearby soaps would ever make her clean again.

"She's pacified as you ordered, ma'am. The colonel didn't trust Summer alone with her, so she'll have the honor of being in your company for the time being. I hope that's not an issue."

"I'd prefer it this way. The last thing I need is another pony's blood on my hooves."

He looked at her sadly for a moment, then started for the wagon, taking special care to not step too close to the wagon’s shadows. There was a spring in his step, an honest bounce that made her smile unabashedly. “I got those books you asked for!” He gave a tug on a thick strap and yanked a bundle from the wagon. Twilight winced violently, but did her best to hold her tongue as he dropped some books before her with a heavy thud. “The rest are onboard, but the one’s you highlighted are right here: one spellbook with a fancy swirl on the front, one jewel-encrusted journal, and a book on magical plants and where to find them. I took a leaf through that last one, just out of curiosity.” He gave a goofy grin. “Heh... Leaf...”

The pun wasn’t missed, nor was one important detail. “And Spike?”

“He had plenty of questions, but I told him he was needed for something very important in the castle. He understands his duties, but not your whereabouts. Just as you requested.” He shot her a comforting smile. “We talked a bit on the way to Canterlot. He’s a fine young dragon, ma’am. He’ll be just fine with Captain Shining Armor.”

“Thank you, Rosy. I can’t tell you how nice it is to know he’s okay.”

He returned her smile, then traipsed over to a nearby boulder and pulled a heavy book onto his back. Sunlight glinted off the golden leaf stamped on its cover, and soon, as he drew close, she recognized it as the atlas from the Crystal Library. Its binding creaked as he pulled it open, his eyes alighting on the pages with a glimmer. “I gave a look through that atlas you found as well. It was tricky, but I think I made a breakthrough."

"A passage through the mountains?"

"Most likely." He flipped to a map of an ancient Crystal Empire and drew his hoofpoint along an old dotted path. "This here? It looks to be an old trade route connecting the Crystal Empire to the Griffon Kingdom in the north. It starts not far from here." He trailed his hoof through a large tract of land marked The Summer Sea. "Everywhere north of the embassy is grassland, ma'am: rich in food, but not easy on the hooves. It’s not dangerous, but it will be a bit of a hike. They don’t call it a sea for nothing."

"I saw that. Any idea how long it might take to cross?"

"I was hoping to ask you about that. Summer told me about your teleportation spell. Any chance we might be able to use that again?"

Twilight cringed. It was one thing to be the bearer of bad news, but when everything else was going wrong it seemed more like a twist of the knife than a fact. "Unfortunately, no. The first rule of teleportation is never try to go someplace you‘ve never been before. You have no idea what kinds of things happen to those who break that rule. Besides, it was tough enough with two ponies, let alone five.”

He was clearly disheartened, though he did an excellent job hiding it. "I see. And flying is out on account of the wagon..."

"If we're consigned to walking, that's okay. It will give us more time to get a clear idea of where to go. I'd rather take the time to iron that out than try and do this the hard way."

He bowed his head. "Your will be done, milady. Walking it is." He wasn't done being concerned, that much was clear. "If walking is our lot in this, we can expect to cross the plains in about four days. Three, if we really push it. It all depends on Vanguard, your prisoner, and the wagon."

"What then?"

"This.” He tapped the figure of a castle on the edge of a field of skyward-pointed arrows. "Looks like the path goes past this old holdfast, someplace called Pyrewood Keep."

"Never heard of it. Sounds less than pleasant, though."

"Agreed. I'd hoped you'd be able to shed some light on it, ma’am. If you know nothing about it, then I can only assume it’s been forgotten. That probably means something far worse has taken residence."

Her blood chilled. "Something... worse?"

He nodded slowly. "This here? This keep? It's right on the edge of the Dimlight Moor.”

The way he tapped the shaded parcel of land northwest of the grasslands filled Twilight with unease. Even its very image was something he wasn’t happy to be touching. Twilight turned to look back towards the prairie, straining her eyes for any sign of something sinister. She found it quickly. The faint color of redwoods barely crested the golden sea below. Beneath their cover, it appeared utterly lifeless. It was the only place the sun seemed to be unable to penetrate. Twilight could almost feel Penumbra watching her from beneath the wagon. Something tells me she’ll be right at home...

"The Dimlight Moor? Is it anything at all like the Everfree Forest?"

"Yes, but not in a great way. Glacial runoff has turned that place into more of a swamp than a forest. The Everfree might be dark on occasion, but here? The trees are towers, ma’am, and there’s no such thing as sunlight. Whatever lives there has lived in the dark for ages, in and around pools of mud and peat that swallow ponies whole. Those pits are said to be deeper than the trees are tall.” He shuddered at the possibility. “I’ve tried looking for a way around it, ma'am, but I've been coming up blank. The road meanders through it, and it’s the only thing that promises to give our wagon any quarter. I wish it wasn’t the case, ma’am.”

“But it is. I trust you, Rosy. If we need to go through it, then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll just have to take it one day at a time.”

“I thought we didn’t have days.”

Twilight sighed. The happy part of the morning had finally come to a close. Now, thanks to him, it was back to the reality of their circumstance. Twilight looked at him soberly. “We don’t, Rosy. For all we know, Celestia could die before we ever cross the grasslands. That’s assuming, of course, that our guest doesn’t free herself and kill us in our sleep. There’s a lot of things we don’t know, but there’s some things we do.”

“Like what, milady?”

“The sun rose this morning. That means Celestia’s alive. The moon has set, so Luna’s okay as well. We know that our enemies are to the north thanks to reports from Shining Armor, and we’ve got a direct line to our prisoner’s master’s plans somewhere in Penumbra’s head. We’ve got more maps than a pony could ask for, the best navigator in Equestria, and all the books and resources to find a cure. But the most important thing we have is hope. As long as we keep that, and as long as we all stick together, there’s nothing we won’t be able to handle.”

“Will we be able to handle King Sombra?”

Twilight’s face blanched. Of all the things to bring up, she thought, he goes right for the sorest spot. “Who told you about him?”

“Vanguard and Summer,” he replied sheepishly, scuffing the dirt. “They told me he was coming for us. They said Penumbra said he would lay waste to Equestria and—”

“And do nothing. I don’t know what they told you, but he’s gone. I saw him being destroyed myself.”

“How can you be sure?” His eyes shot open. “Forgive me, ma’am! I mean no disrespect, none at all! I just... I don’t see how we can be so certain he isn’t coming for us! What if she’s leading us right to him?!”

“You can’t believe everything you hear, least of all from her. She’s said nothing but lies since the moment we met, and she’ll continue to lie if it gets her what she wants.” She pulled his eyes to her own. “You’re not to listen to a word she says. Am I understood?”

He snapped to attention with a smart salute, then returned to their dishes without another sound. The way he set to work betrayed him immediately. He wasn’t done worrying about it. It was hard enough watching him suffering in his own thoughts, let alone try and sort through her thoughts too. What they needed was a break, something to distract them from the facts she’d reminded them of. Her eyes fell on the steam radiating from the water’s surface, and in a flash Twilight knew just what she needed. She’d done it so many times before with Rarity that it should’ve come naturally. There’s nothing quite like a nice warm soak...

She waited until he’d turned to gather more dishes. Then, without a word, she stepped to his side and slid her hooves in the washbasin’s warm water. The way it seeped into her skin melted every unspoken fear in an instant. He returned to her with his dishes, pulling a double-take as his eyes fell on Twilight and the bits of food slowly caking her hooves. “Ma’am! You shouldn’t... You... You mustn't dirty your hooves, milady! This work is beneath you! A princess should never be forced to—”

“You never forced me," Twilight said, smiling calmly. “The mess is mine as much as it is yours. Besides, this water is heavenly! Permit me to stay and help. I could use someone to talk to anyway.” That part of him eternally looking over his shoulder for his coming colonel wrestled with that portion of him dedicated to follow her orders. Twilight eased his battle with a soapy pat on his shoulder. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long while now, Compass Rose. I don’t mind.”

Slowly he relaxed, but his eyes still churned with worry. That's just one thing I'll have to get used to when it comes to him. She grabbed the closest brush and turned to scouring her bowl clean. He joined her after a few moments, his brow stained in sweat. “This is unheard of, ma'am. If Colonel Vanguard saw this, he’d throw a fit!”

“I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble, how’s that?”

Relief tumbled from his lips. “I would like that very much, milady. Very, very much.”

He returned to scouring their dishes, utterly reinvigorated. But Twilight couldn't join in his merry assurance. Her eyes were on him and what levity he now had in the absence of Vanguard’s shadow. She remembered how wonderful it felt to be free from Luna and her overbearing oversight, but there are always prices paid. Hers to Luna hadn’t been cheap.

“Has Vanguard always given you a hard time?”

Compass Rose shrugged weakly. “He gives everyone a hard time. It’s his job.”

“I’d think his job would be to lead you, not force you to follow him blindly and suffer along the way.”

His eyes flicked over to Penumbra, then back to his hooves. “Sometimes we have to be collared before we truly know what it means to hold the leash.”

“Sounds like he’s taken a leaf out of Luna’s book.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. He was her candidate, after all...”

Twilight turned to him, puzzled. “Candidate?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He let his dishes fall into their tub and turned to her. “It’s customary for Luna to dip her hooves in the ranks of the Royal Guard in search of talent. Celestia does the same thing with her diplomats.” He gave a bow and a flourish. “And I must say, she did a wonderful job finding you!” Twilight shot him a little curtsy and a big smile, then pressured him onwards with a shake of her hoof. He stood up straight and continued. “Luna has trained most every Captain of the Guard since the beginning. Her latest champion was Colonel Vanguard, and it was thought he’d take on the Sanguine Mantle as his father did.”

“The Sang-what?”

Compass Rose chuckled. “Don’t worry, not many know what it is either. Only military families like mine even think twice about it. The Sanguine Mantle is an old robe that’s given to the Captain of the Guard upon their ascension to the rank. I’m not surprised you’ve never seen it. It’s a ratty old thing by now. Before it was your brother’s it belonged to the late Lord Bastion, the Captain of the Guard before Shining Armor. It was assumed that Vanguard would receive the nomination, but your brother somehow won Celestia and Luna over. Vanguard was promoted to Colonel to make up for it, as well as receiving his own personal battalion, but it didn’t make much difference. He’s still the most feared and the most respected officer in the Guard, just like he’s always been. It’s like he didn’t even know anything happened.”

Twilight thought for a moment, then turned to him, her eyes alight. “You called him ‘Lord' Bastion... Was he a lord because of his rank?”

Compass Rose shot her a grin. “Yes, ma’am. I think I know why you’re surprised, and you’re right: Lord Bastion earned his honorific upon becoming Captain of the Guard. The same thing applies to Shining Armor. By every right, your brother is a lord in the court of Canterlot! Bet you didn’t know that, did you?”

Twilight sat stunned. Not a day on the trail, and already things were coming to light she’d never thought to consider. What else was there about the dealings of a princess she had left to learn? Would she, in time, have to select a protégéas Celestia had her? If not diplomats or soldiers, would they be master scholars? Magicians the likes of Star-Swirl the Bearded? The very thought made her overwhelmingly excited. The next generation of magical thought could be mine to help shape!

“That’s a lot to process,” Twilight said, her smile waning. “It does clear up a few things, though.”

“Such as?”

“Such as what I’m going to call him from now on. He’s always been a bit of a dweeb, but now? Now he’s Lord Dweeb!”

Compass Rose couldn’t cover his mouth fast enough. He clutched his heart and fell to the ground, laughing uproariously in the grass below. Twilight couldn’t help but join him. Penumbra’s yellow eyes flashed from beneath the wagon, but Twilight happily shrugged her off. When he’d laughed his share, he rose to his hooves, wiped a tear from his eye, and returned to cleaning with a toothy smile. “I trust we’ll keep this between ourselves, ma’am? Vanguard would take my hide for his own red cloak if he hears I laughed at that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, private.”

No cockatrice could ever have petrified him faster.

They turned in unison, encountering the monstrously tall and armorless form of Colonel Vanguard glowering down at them. Unlike Compass Rose, he was the model of the bleak, emotionless stallions who bravely bore the sword and shield of Equestria. Only shades lighter than their fire-scorched cauldron, an inferno seemed poised to melt whatever icy wall lingered beyond his bright blue eyes. A blue shield much like her brother's sat on his flank, but his bore a pure white tower sitting unadorned in its heart. His words were equally stark, and his piercing eyes spoke more than his words ever could. "Explain yourself."

Compass Rose jolted to attention. "Sir?"

Vanguard advanced, nostrils flaring. “Are you slow in more ways than one, private? Your princess is doing your work! I demand an explanation!”

“I volunteered,” Twilight interjected. “I asked to help, and not because he couldn’t do it himself. He'd have finished had I not bothered him.” She could feel Compass Rose’s tension slide away as she stood beside him, shielding him from his colonel. “I take full responsibility, colonel. Any perceived fault of his is my doing.”

Had there been a conflict, Twilight would never have noticed. His eyes gave away nothing. He barely seemed to notice her. “Are your morning rounds completed, private?”

Compass Rose tensed horribly. "I... I was going to do those, but I got—"

"Did I ask you for an excuse or an answer, private?"

Twilight watched Rosy's eyes water, though he never broke. "An answer, sir!"

"And your answer is?"

"No, sir! I have not completed my morning rounds, sir!"

Vanguard towered over them both, flicking his eyes between his subordinate and his princess. He was the very definition of furious. Then, with a grunt, he gestured towards the wagon. "We're moving in ten minutes. You’ll have your drills and those dishes done before then. Hop to it."

He hadn’t even finished the order before Compass Rose sped off to the fire, whipping his utensils up and cleaning them feverishly. "Your Highness, forgive me my late arrival," Vanguard said, bowing low. He glanced furtively over her shoulder. “Might I have a word in private?”

Twilight nodded curtly. It seemed fitting, given his brevity, to match his demeanor in equal stride. They stepped out into the morning shadow of the embassy’s decrepit spire, the only souls in sight. He turned, spared a glance at his soldier, then lowered his head. “I must apologize for my behavior yesterday, Your Highness. I must obey your wishes, whatever they may be. If sparing that demon is one of them, then it’s my duty to uphold your ruling. Forgive me for not trusting your judgment."

“I appreciate your honesty,” Twilight said, though she did so warily. The way he spoke made it clear he was measuring himself with great care. “You have my forgiveness, though you never needed to ask for it. I’d also like to extend my apologies for treating you as I did. As stressful as this is for us all, I had no reason to be that short with you.”

Vanguard bowed lower. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Twilight. Please, I’d prefer to be called Twilight.”

“I’m aware.” Twilight braced herself; That little growl hadn’t been anything close to warm. “I’ve been informed you’ve eschewed the royal honors and rights given unto you by Princess Celestia in favor of becoming friends with my soldiers. Though I would never deny you the full practice of your desires, I must warn you of the consequences of such actions.”

There was no indication that he was anything but totally serious. Twilight took a step back, physically and mentally. To limit her interactions with Penumbra was one thing, but this? “I hate to argue with you, colonel, but what harm can come from being friendly with them?”

“You are their princess, not their friend. In their minds, there is a fine line between serving you because they must and serving you because you want to. In becoming your friend, their understanding of the difference blurs. They will forget their lives’ meaning is to serve you unconditionally, and in doing so they will forget their obligations. They will fail you, and all will suffer because of it.”

“I’d hoped you’d have a little more faith in them than that.”

“I don’t, not until they prove themselves worthy of such an investment. They are young, and in being young they possess a certain foolishness.”

Her eyebrow cocked. “I’m about their age, colonel. Do you think I’m foolish?”

His face remained calm despite the gravity in her voice. “You are a princess, milady. Your status raises you above us in all matters.”

“Then permit me the chance to be foolish with them, until such a time as it becomes improper for it to be so.”

He snorted. “I don’t think such an action is wise, milady.”

“I understand that,” she said. “But I do. You’re a pony who expects strength from his soldiers. I admire and respect that deeply, but in my studies I’ve found a different kind of strength: one that lies in friendship. The Elements of Harmony are as much physical artifacts as they are the ponies that wield them. The power of the Elements is useless if their Bearers aren’t joined together as friends. We need to stick together if we’re going to weather this, and I can’t do that without at least getting to know them. The last thing we need is to be enemies. We have far too many already.”

Vanguard nodded silently, a tense sigh breaking his scowl. “I must defer to you in all things, Your Highness, including this. They are yours to befriend as you will.”

“They belong to no one but themselves.” Twilight trotted off, but something kept her bound to the street. She turned, facing him fully. “I know how hard it must be to serve a new princess, one who doesn’t fully understand what she’s supposed to do. Celestia and Luna have their routines, their mannerisms, their ways of dealing with things, and to those routines you've become accustomed and—according to my brother—highly experienced. I am young and, in this arena, admittedly naïve.” She stopped, swallowing what pride still remained. “I need help, colonel. I haven’t had millennia to figure this whole ‘princess’ thing out like Celestia and Luna have.”

“I’m well aware,” Vanguard stated, “and I’m also aware of just how wrong your assumption is.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Permission to speak freely, Your Highness?”

“Always.”

Vanguard nodded. “Tenure doesn’t define one as wise or, in lacking it, define another as foolish. It is what is done in that time that counts. Action, princess, is how your rule will be defined. Take, for example, Princess Celestia. For all her infinite wisdom, even she has advisors: ponies whose sole purpose is to consider every option and every possible consequence." He raised his head. “Your brother, my lord Shining Armor, asked me to guide you. I will do so in every moment. Thus is my duty and my heart’s desire, but note that I said ‘asked’ and not ‘ordered’; No good guidance was ever given under duress. You have the option to release me from this role, to shoulder your decisions alone free from my opinions. Note, however, that no princess in the history of this nation ever has. Not even Celestia.”

“I understand. I’d like to keep you, colonel, for as long as you’re willing to help me.”

He gave her an elegant bow. “As you wish, Your Highness. This brings me to the reason I requested to speak with you in private. I have a concern which I desire to have addressed.”

Twilight could sense his words finally coming to bear, though she hadn’t expected it to come so soon on his lecture’s coattails. Whatever the basis, it looked as though it concerned him deeply. “As before, you have my permission to speak freely.”

“Thank you. It’s about my soldiers. I have conceded the right for you to fraternize with them, but I must make one small caveat.”

“That caveat being?”

“Their duties, milady, and what should befall them should they fail to fulfill them.”

Twilight’s brow furrowed. “You don’t mean punishment, do you?”

"I do. My soldiers may have passed my training, but their field experience is woefully inadequate. In light of this cataclysm, we haven’t the time to prepare them gently. They need guidance, and they need it through a stern hoof. I request you allow me to train and discipline my soldiers without interference. Their lives are as much my responsibility as yours is. The price of that responsibility is their obedience. When their duties are done and their daily drills completed, they're yours to befriend as you will. Until then, they will be subject to my direct supervision. Is this fair?"

"By what definition are we defining 'supervision'?"

Vanguard sighed heavily, and Twilight knew immediately why. This exchange of hats wasn't fitting either of them quite right. "By 'supervision', I mean that they will act as the elite soldiers they've been chosen to become, or they will suffer the consequences. They will conduct themselves according to their vows: honoring Equestria, upholding her values, and placing you above all else. They will perform their duties before they're asked. They will conduct their daily drills, preferably with me in attendance. They will be, at every moment, in your service, or they will be punished. Now, more than ever, will we need to enforce this.”

Twilight shook her head weakly. “I can’t rightfully condone any action which gets another pony hurt, especially because of me! I understand that punishment has its place, but I can’t agree to that!”

He lifted his head high above hers, and immediately it was as though he was not himself, but Luna. He spoke, and the transformation was complete. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, allow me to bequeath unto you a piece of knowledge with which you may not be familiar. This caste of soldiers—the Canterlot Royal Guard—has been in existence for over a thousand years, born from the collected minds of the last High Marshal and Her Highness Princess Luna during the war against Discord. Since then, as per their wishes, only the best and brightest soldiers have been selected by inducted brothers to wear this armor. We choose only the best to replace us, for it is to them we relinquish our armor and its legacy when we fall. We forgo all affiliations with our homelands, abandon any other oaths, and vow for now and in our lives to come to be the guardians of Equestrian royalty. We do this because there is no other flag we’d rather defend, no life we’d rather live. Never once have we failed, but never have we been this vulnerable. History will not see me as the one who allowed all those souls to be resigned to anonymity.” His eyes softened, though still they were harder than anything Twilight had seen before. “I mean not to scare you, Your Highness, but there are some things you need to understand and fear as I do.”

He stood soundlessly in the street, watching Twilight contain the shiver running through her legs. All those lives, all those years, and never once had she stopped to think about the long history of sacrifices made. Were she to fall, there would be nothing worth defending at all. Vanguard, Summer, even the anxious Compass Rose... they would be forgotten, as Penumbra had promised, in the fires of her master’s march. Twilight nodded her head slowly, her eyes on the ground. “I... I accept your terms, colonel. They’re yours to supervise.”

He bowed his head respectfully. “I’m indebted to you, Your Highness. This liberty is not one I take lightly, but it is one I must take. This is the way it has always been done.”

“Just because things have been done a certain way in the past doesn’t mean it’s the right way to do them.”

“A younger me said the same thing, long ago. Know now it is not with my words that I lecture you, but with Luna’s.”

He bowed elegantly then trotted to the wagon, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Compass Rose shot him a smart salute and stood proudly beside his work. Twilight smiled weakly when Vanguard, as begrudgingly as he dared, granted his subordinate one swift little nod. She followed his tracks, her eyes on the ground. Not even a single step towards Luna, and already she was regretting her decisions. She shot Compass Rose a smile, looked to the grassland’s endless expanse, and sighed.

The end couldn’t come fast enough.

The long course of the day came and went. The grasslands rolled underhoof step by aching step, mile by miserable mile. Beautiful though it was, the Summer Sea had since lost its appeal. The wild grains and grasses which had once tickled her stomach had rubbed her raw, a pain overshadowed by the sunburn flaring on her spine. Every ounce of her attention and no small amount of Compass Rose's suncream had been used to forget them in favor of how beautiful this place truly was. Now, with the sunset before her and food in her stomach, there was a certain peace in the silence, a newfound love of a brutal hike that only exhaustion can bring.

A more beautiful tapestry of color had never been seen than what presented itself now. Celestia’s sun—setting, to Twilight’s relief—was a splash of red in a reinvigorated golden landscape. Every step in that sweltering prairie had coughed up insects and tiny mammals the likes of which Twilight had never seen, all of them chattering and chirping the songs of life. Swifts and swallows tumbled and cavorted together, riding the wind and waves of wild wheats and barleys better than any Wonderbolt. During her flight-breaks, she'd even seen some of the larger beasts cutting courses through the plain’s slow waves, bound for places or preys unknown. Those respites were always well-received. Hooves can only take so much.

How Penumbra had gone so long without a rest was a mystery. All throughout the day she’d trudged in the wagon’s wake, bracing each abrupt tug as Vanguard forced her onwards. Now, as then, she was silent, muzzled and hobbled as Vanguard had been instructed. What skin remained festering on her back blazed bright pink just like Twilight’s, but she—true to her assertion—sat unfazed by the pain. She was as silent and as a vicious as ever as Vanguard slammed her cuffs’ padlocks closed and sealed them with his magic. Stepping to Compass Rose’s dinner, he ladled himself a hearty portion, then stepped into the shadows and out of sight.

Twilight watched them both, then turned back to Compass Rose. Quick though his wit might have been, long had she watched him struggle to wade through the many plants and herbs present in her copy of Supernaturals. Twilight smiled as she looked to the little fern on its cover, thinking of Zecora and the long history they now shared because of that one book. Even if it couldn’t provide a clue as to how to cure Celestia, it would at least be a memento of a happier time and place. She closed her aching eyes and immediately felt herself nod off. If even her mind could take no more, there was no saying how long he’d suffered to keep up. “Let’s take a break, Compass Rose,” Twilight said, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “We’ve been at this long enough.”

He placed his book on a stack of other texts, took a long swig from his waterskin, then shot her a little frown. “You’d think a book on magical plants would have some sort of cure for poison, wouldn’t you?”

“Had it been any other type of poison I would, but I trust Zecora with my life. If she didn’t know how to cure Celestia with what she had, then I doubt we’ll ever know.”

That didn’t assuage his anxiety. He rose and helped himself to seconds as Twilight took another look about the plains. There had been no sign of Summer’s helmet’s crest or polished armor at any point in their trek. Even stranger was that neither Compass Rose nor Vanguard had made any mention of his disappearance. “Is it common for one of your own to miss their dinner?”

Compass Rose ladled himself a bowl of barley soup and shrugged. “It’s not uncommon for patrols to go long, especially on a scorcher like today. Summer will be in soon.” He returned, thought for a moment, then swapped his new bowl with her dirty one. “I heard your stomach growling, ma’am. Here’s the last of it.”

“Thank you, Rosy.”

He plopped down across from her with a smile. “You keep calling me Rosy, ma’am. Might I ask—”

Twilight gasped. She hadn’t even noticed her faux pas, let alone how he’d take it. It had been the only thing Summer had ever requested of her, and she’d failed! “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be! It’s not a big deal!” He gave her an easy smile. “It was Summer, wasn’t it? The one who told you?”

“You’re not mad, are you?”

He laughed at that. “Mad? Of course not!” His smile died a bit. “Well, not at you. My brothers used to tease me about it. I mean, trying for the Royal Guard with 'Rose' in your name... It’s laughable, isn’t it?”

“I think it's a pretty name,” Twilight said.

"Yeah, because that's what I was aiming for..."

"You know I didn't mean anything by that."

"I know," he said, smirking. "It's not often I get to tease a princess. Forgive me, I couldn't resist!"

Twilight hid a little blush. “I hope your other set of brothers isn’t nearly as hard on you...”

“Not really. That’s the nice thing about the Royal Guard: if all the officers are being hard on you, you lose the will to be hard on each other. Whatever our reasons, we’re in it together. Our armor may have a different story, but underneath it everyone’s equal.” He smiled as though remembering something long lost. “Summer always finds time to remind me about how girly my name sounds, just to keep me humble. I used to hate it, but it's become something of a comfort. It keeps home close at heart.”

Twilight nudged closer to the fire. “I won’t lie to you, 'Compass Rose' is a bit of a mouthful to say...”

“You don’t need to ask. I don’t mind you calling me Rosy!”

They shared a little smile. Twilight leaned back in her seat, looking to the sky and the moon slowly rising on the horizon. Embers trailed off into the blue, joining the stars slowly peeking from behind the clouds. Twilight followed them up, then turned her eyes back to the book at her hooves. Compass Rose gestured at it with his eyes. “Find anything in yours?”

Twilight shook her head, looking to the crimson-bound text of her last hour’s perusal. Just like the manual on beekeeping from the previous day, this record of Equestrian fauna—The New Equestrian Bestiary—was a marvel of scholarly devotion. It had been difficult keeping her attention on finding a cure for Celestia’s condition, enraptured as she was by the detailed diagrams of every abundantly common to legendary insect, animal, mammal, and monster that roamed Equestria’s northern frontier. But not a word on changelings, nor any reference to antidotes for their poisonous blood. “Nothing yet. There’s plenty of references to antidotes to other poisonous creatures, but not changelings. I don’t think they classify as beasts.”

“You’re harder to sway than I am, I guess.”

Twilight wasn’t surprised at his lack of sympathy; Long hikes have a habit of making even the dullest mind sink into contemplation. Her’s was no exception. Penumbra’s actions were unforgivable, yes, but even they hadn’t truly been her own. With larger forces in power, it was difficult to delineate which actions had been solely born from her madness and which had been her master’s. In looking at Compass Rose, it was clear that she alone was the sole pony making that distinction.

“You must truly hate her if you’re not even willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Hate doesn’t even begin to cover it, ma’am. Ask any guard and they wouldn’t say any different.”

“You don’t strike me as one who hates,” Twilight said softly.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I wasn’t. Watching Celestia bleed on the floor with a knife in her heart made me change my mind.”

Her heart turned cold. The image was one she would never erase from her mind, so what impact would it have on them: an establishment who’d revered her since the dawn of the nation itself? How could they ever forget, let alone forgive?

“Don’t you want to know why it happened?”

Compass Rose stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “That devil never wanted to consider what her actions would do. Why should I?”

"I think understanding why it happened will help us understand who made it happen, and if we know that there's not much we can't figure out in time."

"So it's a war of attrition: wear her down and find some answers before she does the same to us. What makes you so confident that will work?"

“We have something she wants."

"That being?"

"Absolution."

It was plain to see he hadn't expected that. “Are you honestly telling me, after everything she did, that you’re willing to forgive her?”

“No,” Twilight said. “Forgiveness is an indulgence she’ll never earn, not even if she were to save our lives. But even the most heinous pony, if not forgiven, must be listened to and understood for who they are."

"Forgive me, ma'am, but when has that ever worked?"

"You remember a few years ago when Nightmare Moon returned?" He nodded apprehensively. "If the girls and I hadn’t taken the time to understand why she was as she was, we'd never have known Princess Luna could be saved. If Celestia had never seen fit to give Discord a second chance, would he have ever seen friendship as something worth prizing like he does now? If Trixie hadn't learned from—"

"Who?"

"Trixie!"

He nodded sheepishly. "I... umm... I don't know who that is, ma'am."

"Of course you don't," Twilight replied, gesturing his worries aside. "I should explain: she's a magician like myself, a very talented albeit self-centered sorceress. While I prefer to practice in private, she likes to parade her skills in public, no matter what damage they cause." Twilight paused. "If ever I’d have to name a rival, she'd be it. She embarrassed my friends, woke up an Ursa Minor... She even conquered Ponyville for a spell."

"Heh... Spell..."

Twilight rolled her eyes at him. "What I'm saying is I doubt she or Nightmare Moon or Discord would've done as they did had someone taken an effort to understand them. We tend to look down on some ponies because they're louder in comparison to everyone else. Most times, it's because we're the only ones who’ll listen."

His smile faded as her words hit home. “So that why she’s here: to be analyzed? To be learned from? That seems dangerous, ma’am, and a bit reckless.”

“It’s the least dangerous thing on our list of dangers, Compass Rose. Subdued as she is, we have a chance to glean as much as we can about where to find Luna. She’ll reveal something before long. She has to.”

"And betray a master whom she adores more than life itself..." He played with his meal a moment. “Forgive my tone, but I wish I had your confidence.”

“You don’t think she has any answers?”

“I don’t think she’s in any mind to tell us. I mean, she tried to kill her! Celestia, I mean! Who in their right mind would do something like that?”

“That’s exactly it, Rosy: she’s not in her right mind! Something happened to her that made her like this, and if we don’t know what it was then we don’t understand what we’re up against. If nothing else, understanding where and what she came from will help us win her favor.”

“If nothing else...” He shook his head slowly. “Perhaps I’m more tired than I thought, milady, but it seems to me we’re at a loss. If she’s smart enough to trick even you, then I doubt she’s dumb enough to willingly give up her master’s plan. We’re basing everything on the chance—the very, very slim chance—that she’ll let something slip.”

“What other options do we have?”

He fell silent, but as he raised his eyes Twilight couldn’t tell whether it was the reflection of the fire or something within him that made his eyes glow furiously. “We’re not in the castle anymore, ma’am. There are things you’re allowed to do to... to get what you need.”

Twilight looked at him in shock, breathlessly watching the thin fabric of his kindness unravel. “You... you aren’t saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”

“It’s what she deserves, isn’t it?”

“She doesn’t deserve that!” Twilight snapped. “No pony deserves that!”

“Ponies who murder princesses do deserve that!”

Anger forced her to her hooves, her eyes flaring menace. “Will you be the one to do it, then? Will it be you who tortures the answers we need out of her?”

He sat on his haunches, lost for what to say. “Ma’am, with all due respect, you have the power to—”

“What I have, Rosy, is a responsibility: to Celestia and Luna, to Cadance and Shining Armor and... and to myself. I have a responsibility to keep Equestria alive, and if we stoop to something so horrible then we’re just as lost as she is! How can you ask me for something like that?”

“I just thought I could help...”

“By advocating we torture her?”

“But she tried to kill Celestia, ma’am!”

“I killed Celestia!”

The silence rang and reverberated past the crackling firepit and into the night until finally, after a long while, the crickets returned to their chirping and left the two of them at a loss. Twilight sat down hard, staring blindly at the fire’s flames. Finally, she spoke to the ground alone. It was all she could bring herself to do.

“It was me, Rosy. I killed Celestia. I didn’t hold the knife, but I helped the one who did. I got complacent. I dropped my guard. I wanted so badly to be a real princess that I never saw what was right in front of me. Instead, I saw my friends, saw how happy they were, and I thought that maybe, for the first time, I could actually handle this task I’ve been given. I knew I could do it! I knew it...” She wiped her cheeks dry as quickly as she could. “I know you want to help me, Rosy. I know you’re trying. I appreciate everything you’re doing and I... I wish I had the answers you think I have. But I don’t. All I know is what Celestia would ask of us, and she would ask us to remember who we are and what we fight for.”

She could hear Compass Rose slowly bring his breathing back to normal. He had such a fragile heart, underneath all his layers of armor. She’d seen it from the onset, the very moment he’d turned the corner and served her breakfast. The way he watched her, anticipated her needs, struggled to maintain that status quo she deemed so fit to forget... It was the same attention and devotion she paid towards Celestia. He watched the ground and struggled to keep himself from crying, and as she watched him Twilight felt not angry at herself or surprised at his frailty, but guilty. Horribly guilty. Was this how Luna had felt in the observatory? Would she ever be the princess Twilight had fought her to become?

Would she ever be worth his tears?

“Do you know the last thing I said to Luna?”

He gave an immeasurably tiny shake of his head. Twilight saw it and couldn’t help but smile. “I called her an outdated, worthless relic.”

Slowly his eyes rose to meet hers. He wiped his cheek, his mouth agape. “You... you did?”

Twilight nodded. “We had a fight, she and I. She wanted to keep me from rebuilding the old embassy as I wanted. She said I wasn’t ready to rule alone, and I... Well, I wasn’t happy about it. I wanted to prove I was a real princess, not just her student. I wanted her to listen to me. Actually listen to me. I wanted it so badly that I almost gave it all up. I threatened to give back my crown, give back my wings, forget her and Celestia and Cadance and just go back to being me. I’ve never been so mad in all my life...” Twilight stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t see all the opportunity, all the promise, and all the love I had spurring me on. All I saw was what I wanted, and what I wanted wasn’t even that much in the first place. I guess I’m trying to say that we can’t forget why we’re here. We’re not here to exact our revenge. We’re here to make everything right again, and we can’t do the right thing for the wrong reasons.”

Slowly his courage returned to him, bidding him raise his head and attempt to make eye contact. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it; This side of her was one he wasn’t quite ready to face. “I understand, Your Highness," he said quietly. “Forgive me, I... I need retire for the evening.”

“Rosy, please! I...”

“It’s alright, ma’am.” She almost missed him brushing away a tear. “I’m alright. I’m just... I need to begin my watch. And your tent, I haven't built it yet and... and I'm..." He was powerless to keep his head from falling. "Summer will be here before long, ma'am. I hope you enjoyed your dinner."

Before Twilight could find the right apology he'd followed his commander's hoofsteps into the dark. All that was left was her, his untouched meal between her hooves, and the little yellow glint of Penumbra’s eyes flaring in the firelight. It took several moments for Twilight to quell her emotions and collect his meal, her mind racing as it was with what had occurred. Eventually, as most things now did, her mind fell back to Penumbra: how she’d done as she had, what she hoped to gain, and what to do with her in the future. One-by-one, the options slowly dwindled. Her stomach rumbled, and suddenly another path illuminated itself. She looked to her meal, then at Penumbra. Hunger is a torture in itself, I suppose...

Twilight paced to the wagon, her dinner floating at her side. As she’d expected, Vanguard had followed Twilight’s orders perfectly. Chains of thick steel clinked against the metal cuffs binding Penumbra’s legs. A thick iron collar ringed her neck, the flesh beneath it rubbed clean off. The thin veneer of a Siphon Spell surrounded her decayed horn, restraining her magic as thoroughly as her body was. Checking the chains, Twilight placed the bowl before the corpse-mare’s nose and slowly undid the bindings on her muzzle. “Don’t you even dare think of trying anything,” Twilight muttered, eyeing her cautiously. “Those bindings are enchanted to tighten if you lunge at me.”

Penumbra stretched her jaw, looked to her food, then bared her teeth. “Not even Celestia was quick enough to stop me. What makes you think you’ll ever stand a chance?”

“I’m smarter than you,” Twilight stated plainly. “I have the upper hoof, and I’m going to keep it.”

Penumbra shot her a glare, then looked towards the fire. “You certainly proved it, Your Highness. How dare he give you his opinions. You, a princess! He should’ve known you have all the answers, just like Celestia does.” She stopped, smiling. “Sorry. Did.”

Twilight curled her lip. Damn her and her ears! “You were eavesdropping?”

“That would imply you had something worth hearing. The blubbering of a pitiful pegasus and more of your nauseatingly cheap platitudes are of no concern to me.”

“You should be concerned. He just saved your life.”

Penumbra churned seductively in her chains, writhing with a soft tremulous moan. Twilight’s cheeks flushed bright-red as Penumbra crooned a sugar-sweet “Let me thank him, then...”

Twilight stamped her hoof. “You’re not to talk to him! Not him, Summer, Vanguard, or anyone else you ever meet. You’re my prisoner. When you’re not answering my questions, you’ll be silent. Am I understood?”

Penumbra faked a shiver, then spat at the ground. “Spare me, princess. I have no patience for martyrs.”

“Seems like it’s not just me who can’t stand you, then.”

An honest chuckle escaped Penumbra’s lips, a sound more terrifying than Twilight had anticipated. “Such wit! I think I’ll be enjoying our conversations immensely!”

“You’d be mistaken.” Twilight sat herself down just out of reach. “I don’t plan to go easy on you.”

“Like you did in the ballroom? Because that was truly a sight to behold. I could’ve had my fun with little Rosy thrice-over in the time it took you to realize Luna was gone.”

“Where did you take her?”

She looked surprised. “Is it beginning now, your interrogation?”

“You brought her up. It seemed fitting.”

“An opportunist...” Penumbra smirked. “We’re more alike than you think.”

“We’re nothing alike, so stop avoiding the question. Where did you take Luna?”

“Oh, you sweet, sweet thing! That’s not how this works! You’re supposed to trick me, fool me into providing the fine details of my plan, try and find my weaknesses and extort them. Torture me, if you can stomach it. That’s how interrogations work, milady.” Her eyes narrowed. “Just ask your friends. They’d know all too well.”

Violent yellow sparks cascaded from her collar. Her body seized where she stood, muscles tensing and relaxing in rapid flux. The proper counterspell flashed through Twilight’s mind, staunching the electricity's flow. Penumbra stumbled, her breathing just a bit heavier, her eyes filled with anger and a tiny impressed glimmer. “You’re learning fast, princess...”

"I can't say the same. From now on, you're never to mention my friends again, lest you want another shock. Am I understood?"

Penumbra smiled in defiance. "What else would we have to talk about?”

“You can start with where Luna is.”

Penumbra eyed her venomously. “Perhaps I was right about you. Perhaps you really are Celestia’s pawn, and not the princess you thought you were.” She winked. “Before you ask, yes: I heard that little sob story too. Poor little Twilight: Luna’s chained-up little pet.”

“If you don’t start talking, chains will be all you ever know.”

There was no evidence of fear in her bloodshot eyes. Only a mock serious tone on her lips, an invitation to a reality Twilight was unsure she wanted to uncover. "What would you like to know first, princess?"

As fake as her manners were, at least she wasn't spewing more threats against their lives. "I'd like to know if Luna's alive. If you start with that, I'd be very grateful."

“And what do I receive in return for this information?”

Twilight eyed the bowl between them, slowly pulling it away with her magic. “You’ve fed enough on my anger for one day, I suppose...”

Something had sparked in her eyes and melted through her prickly outer shell. “She’s alive,” Penumbra blurted, flicking her eyes between Twilight and her bowl. “My lord has accorded me the privilege of ending her life when we’re through with her. I would never forgo the honor.”

Twilight held her eyes for a moment, then relinquished her hold on the bowl, drifting it back to its place. Penumbra’s eyes followed it down, though she never said a word of thanks or even of recognition. Still, she’d forgotten about her rotting cheekbones and the view they gave of her watering mouth. Twilight hid a smile. She is more pony than changeling after all...

“Thank you, Penumbra. I’m glad to know she’s alright.”

Her fangs glimmered. “Only He dares speak my name...”

“Stow it. You’re not as scary as you think you are. Your little speech in the dungeon? I don’t believe a word of it. I only believe what I see with my own eyes. Everything else is lies.”

“My lies? Should they take it is a mercy you haven’t told them who I am? Would they ever believe you? They won’t live long enough to find out. When I’m done with you, I’ll kill them just as I killed Celestia!”

“But you didn’t kill her,” Twilight retorted. “You failed, didn’t you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What can I say? A princess is never perfect...”

Twilight lost her breath. “What did you just say?”

Penumbra wasn’t listening. She stared at the stars, her eyes and mind adrift in the cosmos. “Of everything she has ever done, you treasure her night above all. It’s not to her military mind or the might of her hoof that you pay homage. Not her knowledge on the right of forbearance, honor, and propriety. It is not to those things which have done some good that you love her. No, her night is her greatest gift, one you ponies love more than all else. More than you love her. You hardly know the Luna of old, the one who gave herself to the sky. These are things you should know, princess.” She turned her head lazily toward Twilight’s. “She’s your future, is she not?”

Twilight slid away, her memory and her awareness blending together until the image of Luna in her flowing gown melded seamlessly with the plain. The stars in her ears, the crystals on her collar, the same icy eyes and the same proud stance... She was there, in all but reality. Just as present as she’d been in the ballroom.

Just as present as Penumbra had been...

“You can’t know that,” Twilight mumbled, fighting her palpitating heart for control. “You weren’t there...”

Penumbra turned to her, an empty smile on her lips. Then, slowly, she rose from her place on the ground, catching Twilight’s eyes and holding them fast. Her midnight-purple flesh swirled with cream, blanching and stretching as her frame grew taller, broader, and stronger. Her skin stitched itself before Twilight’s petrified eyes, covering her muscles in skin so white it defied the darkness and shone like the sun. Just like the sun. A perfect imitation.

Her pupils softened, stretched, and became unnaturally kind. Twilight covered a scream, stepping backwards away from her. It can’t be true! The scars had gone, the rivers of black beneath her flesh dissolved away to leave her healthy and alive. Vibrant, even. It’s just an illusion! It can’t be real! But no matter how she looked, and no matter how she rationalized it, the Penumbra she’d captured was gone.

And in her place, wrapped in chains, stood Princess Celestia.

She began with the softest of Celestia’s tones, a sweetness on her tongue: “I know that asking you to leave your friends and loved ones behind is a great request...”

“No...”

“...But you are no longer just yourself. You are an entire nation of millions, a lifetime of choices and many more to suffer their consequences.”

“You weren’t there! You couldn’t have been there!”

Celestia’s soft voice grew harder, the tone deeper: “You are a banner to which others flock when their own is tattered...”

“You weren’t there!” Twilight howled, firing her magic. Her Siphon Spells missed their mark. She tried again and again before one finally hit its target. The sheen about Celestia’s horn shimmered, but still her magic spurred the transformation on. Twilight fired another, and another, and another, but no spell of hers could halt the process. This was beyond any magic.

This was insanity.

Celestia’s hoof lifted to her cheek. With a single motion she peeled skin from muscle and cast it on the ground in a bloody pile. She flensed the other cheek, smiling calmly into Twilight’s eyes, her voice not her own: “Sacrifice...”

“Vanguard! Rosy! Summer! Someone help me!”

The cuffs about her legs tightened. She was growing larger still. “Duty...”

“Someone help me! I beg of you!”

Bright-red flesh pillowed over the cuffs’ ridges. The hooves beneath them grew black. Soon, she’d lose the limb entire.

Sometimes, you must sever the limb to save the body entire.

“Selflessness...”

Twilight tugged the the closest cuff with all her might. She shot a spell at it, watching with relief as the protective magic surrounding its lock dissolved away. She slammed the metal pins until the hinges surrendered and broke open, but she never saw them fall. She’d turned to the others, her horn ringed in an aura of blinding light, her hooves bruising against the metal resistance. Celestia stared blindly forward, her voice like stone. “Fairness...”

A furious slam broke the third cuff. Twilight pressed onwards, her vision weak, her hooves wet with tears. Just one more cuff! Just one more...”

“These are what it means to be royalty.”

The final cuff fell from Celestia’s hoof, the rosy flesh beneath it returning to its pristine white. The gravelly voice ceased. Their breathing rose and fell in unison. Twilight looked up into Celestia’s eyes.

Her bright, bloodshot yellow eyes.

“Do you fear me now, princess?”

Penumbra lunged. Twilight twisted too late. The corpse-mare, with a ravenous howl, bowled Twilight over and pinned her to the ground, her full weight pressing down on her limbs. The chains tightened their pull. The collar around her neck clamped shut just above her golden yoke. She lowered her head, neck bones snapping in defiance, her grand horn gouging a hole just shy of Twilight’s scalp. Death itself tumbling like a gas from the holes in her fleshless cheeks. She stared at Twilight, crying blood.

“Do you fear me now?”

Something wet dripped on Twilight’s stomach. She looked down. A thin trickle of blood ran down Penumbra’s white chest. Another river sprouted alongside it, then another. Twilight turned back into the bloody eyes above her, looking on helplessly as flesh and muscle sloughed off her face like hot wax. Twilight stifled the bile rising in her throat, holding onto Penumbra’s eyes for dear life. The dripping turned into a deluge. Twilight kept her eyes upwards. She couldn’t look down; Penumbra’s chest had broken. Don’t look down. A slippery mass collided with her belly and sent her stomach churning, but still she averted her eyes. Don’t look down. Please, whatever you do, don’t look down...

Suddenly everything went quiet. The crickets, the wind, and the fire froze. She bowed her head, her blood-filled eyes rolling in their now-fleshless sockets. She focused only on Twilight. Her mouth was lipless; her body, bones.

Her voice: Sombra’s.

“DO YOU FEAR ME NOW?!”

The skeleton lifted its forehooves high, a blood-curling scream emanating somewhere deep within. Her eyes flared violently as her golden shod hooves fell for Twilight’s head. Twilight closed her eyes.

And felt nothing.

“Princess!!!”

A bolt of color whizzed overhead and slammed full-bore into Penumbra’s skeletal neck. The illusion broke as Penumbra, with a yelp of surprise, returned to her rotten state, her frame and stature reduced in the blink of a teary eye. A whirling maelstrom of violence and screaming erupted from the tangle as she enacted her wrath on another: a figure shrouded in darkness. Twilight heard the flap of wings, heard a guttural scream, and saw a brief glimpse of unbroken red-tinted flesh. Her heart surged.

It was Rosy!

Their eyes shone with firelight as they fought for supremacy. Twilight rolled to her stomach and found it dry. No blood, no viscera, nothing to prove the experience had been anything but a dream. The battle continued behind her as she dragged herself to the wagon. A little snap, followed by a mare’s high-pitched scream. Twilight pressed onwards, rejuvenated. Penumbra can feel pain after all!

A little glint caught her eye. She pulled herself to her hooves as best she could, keeping an ear on the fighting behind her. Someone had gotten the upperhoof with a solid wet punch, then another, then another in quick succession. Light-deprived, her world became a symphony of sounds: Heavy bodies falling then scrambling to rise; Flurries of wings and fevered breathing; A singing blade slicing nothing; Grunts and growls; Curses and proclamations; Invitations for death. She looked to the wagon and saw the glimmer again. Reaching a hoof in, Twilight whipped out a quiver from beneath a set of saddlebags. Arrows scattered on the ground, their arrowheads flashing. Her heart slowed.

Rosy’s bow...

The fighting broke its furious pace as she ransacked the wagon in search of his weapon. Someone had claimed victory, but who it was she couldn’t tell. Her mind was on her prize and the safety it would guarantee. Twilight sifted through the wagon’s miscellany, lifting Vanguard’s halberd’s massive blade to find a little shortbow with an ornate handle inlaid with bronze filigree, a waxen string dotted with a crystal bead in its center. Her eyes lit up. Found it!

She wheeled clumsily around, her magic awkwardly gripping the bow, facing the darkness and the nothing beyond. She lifted it before her, noticing too late that no arrow had been nocked. She perked her ears and heard nothing but hoofsteps limping through the grass. A shot of fear ran her through. Something was making its way for her! Her magic pulled an arrow from the ground and lifted it to the string. Her heart began to palpitate. Why won’t you work?! Her magic wavered as the form drew closer, its breathing heavy and wet. She tried again, the bowstring buzzing and twanging as she fumbled to set it right. Finally, the arrow snapped to the string with a contented hum. She took a deep breath, drew the string back with her magic, and leveled it towards the shadows.

Straight at the heart of a bleeding pegasus mare.

She looked like something from a tropical dream, a dash of color that stood out like a beacon in the darkness. Her mane, short-cropped and frizzled, upended from her battle, was the same infinite blue as a cloudless mid-summer sky, its solar companion harbored and given its brilliant due in the form of a glorious orange stripe that brushed her bleeding cheeks. The fire flickered, casting its glow over skin like buttercream. Blood shone in little drips down cuts up and down her legs and chest. Had she been standing in her place, Twilight knew the pain of those wounds would be unbearable. This mare, however, standing courageously before her, seemed unfazed. She didn’t look as though she could feel them at all.

She can’t feel the pain...

“Don’t move,” Twilight said tremulously, advancing, her bow shaking horribly. “Don’t you move a single muscle!”

“Princess, please... just put the bow d—”

Twilight brandished the bow menacingly. “Get down on the ground! Do it now!”

The mare inched forward, limping horribly. “Princess, you don’t under—”

“Vanguard, help me! Penumbra’s escaped!”

The mare jumped, her eyes wide with fright. “No! Please! You’re making a mis—!”

“Shut up, liar! You don’t think I know what you’re capable of? You don’t think you’ve fooled me enough?” Perking her ears, she could hear the heavy crash of hoofsteps. Vanguard was on his way! Twilight leapt forward in a surge of courage, her bow aimed perfectly at her mark, her magic straining to keep her arrow and its bloody promise contained. “What did you do with Rosy? What have you done with him?””

“Princess, listen to me!”

“Is he alive? Tell me he’s alive! He’d better be alive, you sick twisted—”

“Your Highness?”

Twilight turned her head to a dumb-struck Vanguard just for a second.

A second was all it took.

The pegasus surged forward and knocked the bow from Twilight’s grasp. The string gave a horrible twang, rocketing its arrow into the darkness. Vanguard gave an explosive bark and thundered closer, but he’d never be quick enough. Twilight wheeled on her enemy, howling, her wings outstretched. Hugging the mare close, she gave a few powerful wingbursts and tackled her to the ground. Before she knew, strike after pummeling strike found their mark in the mare’s gut. She crumpled beneath Twilight’s heaving chest, her back to the grass, weathering each blow as Twilight beat her senseless. Her eyes filled with tears. Her hooves went numb. She wouldn’t last much longer.

“Twilight!!!”

Twilight froze. The mare laid quivering below her as her scream echoed into the night. Over Twilight’s shoulder, she could hear Vanguard come to a running stop, his breathing laborious. Slowly, everything became calmer. I know that voice...

Twilight looked back down to the bruised mare beneath her. She hadn’t changed back. No matter the punishment, she hadn’t changed back to the rotting corpse she was. Sensation slowly returned from its prison of turmoil, filling Twilight with a profound awareness of her senses. She could feel the curve of the mare’s heaving stomach, hear the brush of the wind through the fibers of her mane. She could hear the mare’s mind and body relax. Her skin was soft and smooth, everything Penumbra’s broken flesh wasn’t. Her eyes flashed open and took Twilight in. Twilight stared back, losing herself in the mare’s bright green eyes.

There was something in those eyes that spoke of a long history, a time and place to which only Twilight was invited. They were calm, beckoning her closer, urging her to forgo all else in favor of a brief moment of rapture before the storm. Twilight blinked and blinked, expecting them to flash yellow at any moment. But every time she opened her eyes they remained, calmly staring back. She’d seen them before, but not on her. They belonged to another. A stallion.

A new friend.

Twilight dropped her voice to a whisper.

“Summer?”

“How're you holding up?”

Twilight stared into her teacup, watching the steam whorl from its surface, lost in her thoughts. Long had the camp been quiet and peace restored, but still her heart refused to quit racing. A little tower of teabags sat precariously on a nearby saucer, threatening to collapse and stain her silken sheets. She could feel the mare attached to that little question lingering, but she could only feel so much. Right now, in the aftermath, it took everything she had to keep from sinking back into despair. “There’s not enough chamomile in the world to help me through this right now.”

“I understand, princess.”

Summer limped closer and sat upon a nearby cushion, watching Twilight intently. “Rosy’s been put on a midnight detail. Vanguard’s furious at him, only Celestia-knows-why. Penumbra was never his responsibility to begin with. If anyone’s, she was mine.”

“How is she?”

Summer shrugged. “Alive, unfortunately. She got in a few hits, but it was a pretty one-sided fight. I’m pretty sure you did more damage to me than she did.”

“Words can’t express how sorry I—”

“Don’t apologize, princess,” Summer said plainly. “You couldn’t have known.”

Twilight took another sip and let her tea drip slowly into her throat, holding her breath so her heart could slow down and rejoin the world it had long outpaced. Here in her tent, surrounded by her books, cast in the light of the firefly lantern above her head, it was so easy to distance herself from what had just occurred. Her conversation, her Siphon Spells’ failures, Penumbra’s transformation, her rescue... Too many things to count. Too many impossibilities, most of them unresolved. There was only one thing that had proved itself a certainty.

She sat just feet away.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Summer swallowed a lump in her throat. “I... I wanted to tell you so badly, but I never got the chance.”

“Why not?”

“Timing,” she said, shrugging. “Vanguard woke me up at the crack of dawn and sent me off. I wanted to tell you over breakfast.”

“Which breakfast?” Twilight said, her tone grave. “The one where you were decidedly unavailable, or the one before that where you deliberately chose to not reveal who you were?”

“Who I am doesn't matter.”

“Who you—” Twilight’s eyes flared as she rose from her cushion. “When the rotting corpse ten feet away from us can become anyone in the world, who you really are is all that matters to me! I nearly killed you, Summer! I was one frightened jump away from plugging you in the heart!”

“I never wanted to put you in that situation.”

“Well, you did!” In the spaces between words all Twilight could think of was just how breathless she’d become. The plug had been pulled. There would be nothing stopping the rest of it to come roaring out too. “What else haven’t you told me?”

Summer shook her head frantically. “That’s everything, I swear!”

“If I find out you’re lying to me, I swear on Celestia I’ll—”

“I never lied, ma’am. I just—”

Summer caught her words too late. Twilight stepped closer, her eyes on fire. “No, Summer. Finish that sentence.”

“Please, ma’am, I didn’t mean it!”

“Finish it!”

Summer stood strong, every inch of her fighting to keep herself from shaking. “I... I never lied, I... I just never...”

“You just never corrected me. Is that it?”

Summer said nothing. The tear streaking down her cheek told more than she ever could. Twilight watched her, her heart in tatters. “A lie of omission is still a lie, Summer...”

“I didn’t think you’d—”

“No, Summer. You didn’t think.”

Another tear streaked down Summer’s face, but she never broke. Twilight watched her shaking, hating herself with every passing second. This was all far too much to bear. Twilight watched her sadly, then stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug. Summer tensed horribly and made no move to hug her back, but Twilight didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was in one piece. “Don’t do that again,” Twilight whispered into her mane. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost any one of you.”

After a while, Summer returned the hug and relaxed. “I won’t, ma’am. I promise.”

They released their embrace, looked each other in the eyes, and knew in their hearts there was no more to say. They shared a long exhale and let their weariness overtake them, plopping on Twilight’s cushions with contented sighs. Neither said anything for some time. There was too much to process, and even more to forgive. Twilight looked over Summer once more then shook her head, laughing to herself. “I can’t believe you were a mare this whole time and I never noticed.”

“In your defense, that was the point.”

“But we spoke for a whole day! We scoured a library and talked for hours! We blew up a statue together!”

Summer chuckled at that. “I thought my little scream would’ve given it all away, to be honest. I mean, how many stallions scream like I did?” She cocked her head in contemplation. “Sorry: how many stallions not including Rosy would scream like that?”

“Careful, Summer. I’m still a little mad at you.”

“Sorry! Sorry...”

Twilight giggled, shaking her head slowly. “I mean, how did I never notice? Why did you try and hide from me?”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Summer blurted. “I was wearing my armor, ma’am...”

Twilight looked at her, exasperated. “What does armor have anything to do with it? I saw you in it, and you were a stallion! You don’t think I’m smart enough to know a stallion when I see one?” Her words met Summer’s blank stare. Twilight stopped. “I... I sort of walked into that one...”

“You wouldn’t be the first.” They shared a long tense silence before Summer found the courage to speak. “I’ve said before that Vanguard is a legend, ma’am. Nice thing about legends is that they tend to repeat themselves. Chances are you’ve heard the same spiel he tells everyone.” She straightened her posture. “‘This caste of soldiers...’”

Twilight nodded. “I heard that one just this morning.”

“He’s nothing if not reliable.” They shared a little glance before Summer continued. “We’re chosen for this, ma’am. Out of the hundreds that try every year to be Peacekeepers, only a few are selected for the Royal Guard. It’s not like being a Peacekeeper; You don’t decide to stop being a Guardian. You’re a Guardian from the moment you're selected, and you’re a Guardian until the moment you die. Your armor falls to your replacement, and its legacy goes with it. Rosy and Vanguard? They wear armor that’s been maintained and preserved for centuries. Mine’s a little different.”

“How different?”

Summer rose and stepped quietly out of the tent, returning shortly with her helmet. Its familiar red crest was immaculately maintained, just as clean as it had been in the library. She shifted it from hoof to hoof, watching it lovingly. Then, with a little sigh, she lowered her head and slipped it on. Awestruck, Twilight watched as the color slowly drained from her skin and mane, dying away strand by strand and inch by inch until every part of her was how Twilight remembered: stoic and colorless, the very image of a typical Canterlot guard. She gave a little shrug, letting the helmet slip off again. Her color returned, and within a few seconds she was back to her vibrant, colorful self. Twilight couldn’t help but stare, dumbstruck. “It’s enchanted...”

“By Luna herself,” Summer said shyly. “It’s the only one of its kind, or ever will be. Luna made that abundantly clear.”

“I don’t understand...”

Summer gave her helmet a little tap. “Vanguard told you about the creation of the Guard, right? About how every soldier selects his own replacement? Well, as soon as some of the older Guardians heard that a mare was up for selection, they put up such a fuss that your brother, Shining Armor, had to intercede. He lost some popularity for it, but what could they do? He’s their Captain of the Guard: the highest of the higher-ups.”

“They didn’t want you to be a soldier?”

Summer scoffed. “They said it weakened their image. It’s a shit argument, but I can see where it comes from. We’d be nothing if we didn’t have our traditions. Unfortunately, the Commandments stipulate, amongst other things, to ‘Honor thy Brother’. Evidently, that absolves them from having to honor their sister.”

Twilight sat in shock. “How do I know nothing about this? That’s absurd!”

“By design,” Summer replied quickly, “and you’re not the only one who’s outraged. Vanguard’s not much of a talker, ma’am, but his words hold more weight than any other officer combined. So, while they debated and fought over whether or not my selection was legal, Vanguard circumvented them and brought me before the only pony to whom that question should ever have been addressed.”

“Princess Luna...”

Summer nodded. “I didn’t hear much, but when Vanguard finally let me back into her chambers I could tell she was flustered. We discussed my future, talked about what was expected of a Guardian, and discussed my treatment. She was furious at how it was handled, but she never made an apology.”

“She didn’t?”

Summer shrugged. “The Royal Guard is her brain-child. Has been for ages. I guess she wasn’t ready for her baby to grow up... until Vanguard convinced her, that is. She’s always had a soft spot for him. She pulled this from the armory and enchanted it right then and there. It has no legacy but the one I give it.” She stroked her helmet tenderly, lost in a memory. “Only Shining Armor, Vanguard, and Luna were supposed to know. Rosy found out on his own.”

“But he’s been silent about it, right?”

“As quiet as a mouse,” Summer said, smiling to herself. “He talks too little, and I too much. Fast friends and thick as thieves, we are. At least, I hope we are...”

“He’s said nothing but great things about you.” Twilight stopped and thought a moment. “In fact, now that I think about it, he never corrected me about your gender either...”

Summer blushed. “Good ol’ Rosy. Ever the gallant.” She fell quiet, watching her hooves as Twilight looked on. “I wish I could’ve told you on my own terms. I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“I’m glad you told me, Summer. I’m sorry. Had I known, I never would have yelled at you.” She shot her a smile. "Get some sleep. It'll be a long day tomorrow."

“Thank you, Twilight.” She rose quietly and straightened herself, clutching her helmet beneath her wings. “Rosy’s not going to let me sleep until he patches me up, so I’ll be up for a while. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Twilight thought a moment, looking about the tent until her eyes fell on the teapot perched on a nearby pile of books. “Another pot would be nice,” she said, eyeing it with longing.

“As you wish.”

She made for the outside air, but Twilight stopped her with a little “Summer?” She turned, snapping to attention. Twilight looked at her, then bowed her head in thanks. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Summer returned the bow and, with lighter hooves, made for the campfire and her waiting medic. Twilight sat in silence, processing all she’d learned. A soft wind rustled the flaps and a few unbound scrolls, scattering them across the ground. Twilight gathered them up in her magic, looking with curiosity to their pages. Every page was the same: useless. The more she scanned the lines, the more useless they became. Page after page after page went scanned before Twilight threw them down on the floor, fuming. They’d collected nothing but fire-fuel. She rested her eyes, looking at the pages blankly, her mind looking for something. Anything. Just a sign. A clue.

A letter...

Twilight caught her breath, looking to the bottom-most parchment, her eyes focused intently on a fraction of the page. There, in the bottom corner, was a single letter C. It must be a mistake, she wondered, looking at it closer. It’s a similar marking, that’s all. But as she imagined it being written, there wasn’t any doubt: it had meaning! She pushed the parchments aside until it stood alone. More words! In her excitement her eyes flicked to the top-left corner of the page and began to read.

Her heart stopped.

Celestia,
I can only hope this note finds you, and finds you well. I haven’t long before I’m found here. I must be brief.

If never again we meet, be it known I should never have taken your wager. All this heartache might have been avoided had I disobeyed you from the onset. Not a day goes by I don’t regret my part in all this, but I can only repent so many times. My apologies and prayers for forgiveness mean nothing in this place. I hope to see you soon, so I can explain what happened. I hope you’ll understand and forgive me as I have you.
He’s found his prize, and with it he plans on returning home. He seeks to lure you as he once did. A familiar trap with a familiar outcome. That is all I know. I know not if he will succeed, but I hope victory eludes him. I also hope that you find this before it’s too late. This place will go unnoticed, but knowing his playmate I know he’ll find it soon.
I’ve run out of room. The final page of the diary has been completed, just as Luna requested. My contract has been fulfilled, and my time as her apprentice: officially concluded. Relay that to her, if you’re willing. The moon is a lonely place devoid of comforts.

I can feel his playmate’s presence. I must depart. He knows where the first two dwell. Prevent him from acquiring the last.

Trust your heart.

-C

Twilight read it twice more before letting it slip from her hooves. A part of her rejoiced at the discovery, but everything else was struck dumb. That room in the library had been inhabited, and not just by anyone; Someone close to Celestia and Luna, and a student of the latter. Looking to the other parchments, her heart sank. If this was the only clue, then the only course left would be more nights as a victim to Penumbra’s mind games. The notion filled her with dread, but not as much as the message’s final lines: Prevent him from acquiring the last... Trust your heart. Twilight repeated and repeated them, but nothing came. What on earth is this 'C' talking about?

“Trust your heart...”

Twilight rubbed the space between her eyes. This was all too confusing. Staring blankly at the pile of books, her mind wandered. She turned to the locked diary on the ground.

It was glowing...

Suddenly her mind cleared. She raised the diary to her eyes. A tiny white light shone from its keyhole. Straining her magic, she conjured a little spell and sent it off, watching as it snaked its way into the diary’s little padlock. A few clicks, followed by a gasp as the lock clicked open. Twilight held her breath as she opened the diary to its middle.

Nothing.

She flipped past a few pages, but found only more gibberish. She turned to the final page. It had been torn out right where the little note had begun, but only the note was written meaningfully. Everything else was garbage. All this time, wasted! With a growl Twilight tossed the book aside, dropping her head to the cushions, angry beyond words. Of all the things with the most promise, this diary was the one which would’ve helped them find Luna! Now, it was just like the rest: trash. Twilight watched the book, then stopped.

Hold on...

She pulled it closer, her eyes centered on the front inside cover. Something had been written there, pulsing with a pale blue magic. Then, as she drew closer, it disappeared, leaving behind a thin hoof-scrawled message burned into the cover:

The hopes of souls and hearts most kind

Oft suffer from those most maligned.

But thoughts endure. To you I'll bind

The secrets of my erstwhile mind.

Thrice-round read these warnings three:

No pasts or futures I'll decree,

Nor take I things left not to me,

Nor take for granted what I see.

Mind and body, soul and heart,

Meld into one through arcane art.

To time and text myself impart

To bring this memory to its start.

She spoke the final lines and jumped as the first page surged with a blinding light. Every symbol and line of gibberish began to spin and pulse. Something gripped her by the navel. She screamed for help, but before the right words could come out the letters whirled into a gale. Her tent slowly dissolved away, her body lurched forward, and before she could think about what to do her world went spinning down the drain, wrapped in a warm fog. Her brain hummed softly as she slipped away.

Everything went whisper quiet...

~~~***~~~

“Wake up, dear...”

Wrapped in softness, Twilight rolled. It’s too early, she thought. Five more minutes...

The voice spoke again: “Wake up, honey. It’s time.”

Her eyes flashed open. Twilight reeled at the sensation. That movement hadn’t been her own.

Her eyes slowly focused on the image of a baby-blue mare smiling softly down at her. Tears streaked down her face and into the corners of her trembling smile. “Get up, honey. You don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Who?”

The mare’s smile flickered with pride. “Hold out your hooves and close your eyes, dear.”

She did as she was told, though not without a paralyzing sense of fear. These words, the voices, her movements... This was something foreign, something beyond her ability to control. Thoughts came readily to her mind. Her limbs moved of their own accord. She panicked, but as she did something brushed against her chest. It weighed less than a feather, and felt about as delicate. Twilight stopped her rushing heart. Don’t fight it, she thought. Let the world come naturally. She fell backwards into the unknown. Her senses heightened. She could hear every minute sound: the snapping of the glass under the wind’s frigid bite; The sniffling of the nearby governess; The soft, sweet breathing of the other lost foals. Twilight let everything go.

“Open your eyes,” the mare whispered.

Her eyes opened slowly, surely, without fear. She felt an unbearable excitement flood through her as she stared at her gift: a frock of pure white silk, as clean as the fresh snow outside the nearby window. She looked up and into the crying eyes of the aging mare before her. “It’s my Choosing Day?”

She could only nod.

Nurses flitted this way and that, never at one place for more than a few seconds. Brushes and combs disentangled her haphazard mess of dark green hair, nipping at the knots until her mane flowed like water. She raised her hooves and let them slip on her new gown. The blue mare watched her sadly as the nurses pinned her into place. One pony straightened her chin and covered it in a fine powder. Twilight felt herself sneeze, which earned a smile from the blue governess. Finally, they all stepped back and looked at her. Twilight felt herself twirl. “How do I look, Miss Bluebell?”

The governess pulled her to her side. “You look just like her.”

They slipped from the room as silently as they could. Rusty cots and their sleeping cargo lay just out of reach. She watched them pass, whispering her final goodbyes to the fillies and colts still adrift in their dreams’.

They’re my siblings no longer.

In a blur they passed down a long corridor, her sky-blue governess at her side, a troop of attendants in her wake. They looked scared, though they had no voices to explain why. Fat flakes of snow mounted on the windows as Miss Bluebell levitated a lantern before them. The sun hadn’t risen yet. Early morning. Worry awakened in her heart.

Only the sour cheat the day its due.

The governess opened a door and ushered her inside. Twilight felt herself tread slowly into an office filled with books. Certificates and paintings filled the walls’ empty spaces. A grand wooden desk and a plush chair sat before a blazing hearth. She shivered. Only the sun felt so warm.

Her eyes focused, and as she watched the fireplace the chair swiveled towards her. Her limbs went numb with shock as a unicorn rose from his seat. He made a bee-line right for her. A mental scream pounded in her brain.

It’s the Headmaster!

He floated forward like a spectre: soundless and cold, staring at her with lifeless eyes through the cloudy lenses of his pence-nez. “Is this the one,” he said to Miss Bluebell. “The one Her Highness asked for?” He saw her ribs, wheeling on Miss Bluebell with a growl. “You pinned her too tight! She’s naught but bones! Find another frock! Quickly!”

Miss Bluebell stood her ground. “You've kept her here long enough.”

He advanced menacingly, but stopped at the sound of marching. The nurses nearby rallied together against the wall. Twilight felt Miss Bluebell wrap her against her chest. “Don’t fear, child,” she whispered. “You’ve nothing to fear from her.”

The doors flew open to the flash of spears. A row of armored stallions stamped through, staring at nothing. In their midst: a passel of ponies, clipboards floating at their sides. Their opulent clothing betrayed its wear as a brisk wind fluttered through the windows above. The soldiers paraded to the far wall, then stopped, performing an abrupt left-face.

It was then she made her entrance.

Miss Bluebell and the Headmaster prostrated themselves as a mare stepped into the room. Twilight felt herself do the same, but not without a surreptitious little glance. A long purple cloak frilled in white goose-down trailed behind her, the velvet-topped crown atop her head shining with a cold silver glare. The mare stopped and extended a lilac-colored hoof towards the Headmaster. “Well met,” she said plainly. “How fare you this morning?”

“Wonderfully, Your Grace,” he stammered, kissing her hoof with no small amount of hesitation. “I fare well, as do all my wards!”

“We’ll see.” She turned to Miss Bluebell, her eyes alight. “You must be the Bluebell I’ve heard so much about.”

The governess gasped. “Milady! I... I am honored! How have you come to know of me?”

“I’ve done my research,” the mare replied. “Many a happy new parent and sterling recommendation have you. If the quality of your ward's education is testament to your work, you have a bright future ahead of you.”

Miss Bluebell nodded and kissed her hoof forcefully, tears of utter joy streaming down her face. “Thank you, milady! A thousand times, thank you!”

The regal mare smiled brightly. Withdrawing her hoof, she wiped it clean, slipped it within her robe, and focused her eyes on Twilight. “This is the girl?” she asked, watching her keenly.

The Headmaster stepped forward, his head still bowed. “Yes, Your Grace! Her name is—”

“She will answer for herself,” the mare stated plainly, fixing a stern eye on him. He bowed his head and backed away, leaving her free to whisper so only Twilight could hear. “How farest thou, love?”

“Well enough, Your Grace.” She gave a little curtsy, much to Miss Bluebell’s delight. “I had a great night’s sleep.”

“No winds or weather to keep you from it, I hope...”

“None, Your Grace. We’re very well cared for here, me and the others.”

The mare looked her over with a deep sadness, her frown deepening with every counted rib on Twilight's frame. She fixed her eyes on the Headmaster, eyeing him malevolently. Then, with a whip of her cloak, she turned to her entourage. “Leave us, all of you. I would speak to the girl alone.”

The Headmaster jolted forward. He met a flash of spears as the soldiers blocked his advance. The mare rounded on him slowly, a vicious smile on her lips. “You dare stop me, sir?”

A protest strangled itself in his throat. “Not at all, Your Grace! I’d be a fool to deny your request!”

“You’d be a fool regardless,” she said coolly. “Your ward is sickly, Headmaster. The only thing healthy about her is her manners. She has her governess to thank for that." She turned, fixing her eyes on Bluebell. “How many years have you as a governess?”

“Ten, Your Grace.”

“Knowest thou his duties?”

A tiny, terrified smile erupted on her face. “Y-Yes, Your Grace.”

"Then I’m ten years too late.” She nodded to her soldiers, who swiftly surrounded the Headmaster. “Escort this wretch from the premises. I’ll have no more of him in this house.”

He tried to protest, but with a metallic march of steel and hoof a cadre of soldiers escorted him from the room. The mare’s secretaries followed close behind, joined quickly by the nurses and a beaming Miss Bluebell. Twilight watched her go, sharing a teary smile before the door closed and hid them from each other. The hallway beyond slowly grew silent.

They were alone.

The mare’s magic glimmered around the drawstring of her cloak. She drew it off with a shiver, looking to the hearth disapprovingly. Her horn flared, and before Twilight could react the hearth’s flames turned blue, thundering forth with a rush of heat. Twilight watched them with wonder, for though they lapped at the paintings above they burned nothing. The mare threw her cloak upon the nearby chair, revealing her body entire.

How a mare so demanding of obedience could be so intrinsically beautiful, Twilight didn’t know. She could almost feel the softness of her faded lilac skin from here, though if the wrinkles around her eyes were any clue it was a softness she’d fought with time and trial to retain. She removed her crown and massaged her scalp, letting her deep-purple hair unfurl to brush the snow-white freckles on her cheek. She turned towards where Twilight stood in wonder, looking at her kindly. Her smile was something wonderfully pleasant, but never once did her eyes show any form of weakness. They were as direct as the words she spoke next.

“Knowest thou who I am, child?”

Twilight felt herself nod furiously. “You’re my princess, Your Grace.”

“Do not mumble,” the mare said carefully. “When you are in my presense you will speak as though you have some pride in your heart. Let the world know you fear it not.”

Twilight felt her host swallow her fear. “You are my princess, Your Grace!”

“And my name?”

“Princess Platinum, Your Grace!”

“Good,” the mare said, smiling broadly. “You have a fire in you yet.”

“Thank you, milady!”

“You’re most welcome.” Princess Platinum took a few careful paces towards her. “You know your numbers, love?”

Twilight nodded confidently. “And my letters too, Your Grace.”

Platinum stomped her hoof gently. “Let’s hear them, then.”

Twilight turned to her with a smile. Her tongue and thoughts aligned for a moment of perfect unison as she sang the lilting melody of a child’s nursery rhyme. Her steps matched the music perfectly, her mind and mouth alive with sound and sensation until she finished her little song with a spin and a curtsy. Princess Platinum clopped her hooves on the floorboards with pride. “Well done! Well done indeed!”

Twilight caught her breath, though her heart still ran wild. “Thank you, Your Grace!”

“A beautiful song,” Platinum said. “But now, if you’ll indulge me, I’d prefer something more serious. A history, perhaps? Know you any stories of our homeland?”

“I do,” Twilight said happily. “I could tell you the ‘Land of the Seven Sigils”, milady, or ‘The Plains of the Golden Sun’!”

"Tell me that which pleases you most.”

Her heart fluttered. “My favorite? It would have to be 'The Tale of the Mountain-Tamer’!”

The fire in Platinum’s eyes kindled. “You speak of Prince Palladium’s defeat of the vicious dragon Furoros, do you not?”

“I do!”

“Speak, then” Platinum said. “My father’s exploits never tire me.”

Twilight took a deep breath, opened her hooves wide, and let a muse wrest control of her heart and mind with a flowing tale of clashing swords and magic so eloquent there was no space in her brain left wandering. Her heart opened up and forced her to her hooves, an imaginary rapier in-hoof, jabbing and thrusting, parrying and riposting as the great prince had done long ago. When she had no energy left, she let herself fall to her rump, giggling to hearty applause. “Bravo!” Platinum exclaimed. “You’re a scholar and a thespian in equal stride!” She rose to her hooves. “Let us see if you’re a sorceress too.”

Her horn ignited and whisked away every chair and desk until the office floor was as empty as Twilight’s breath. Platinum stood proudly in its center, her hair whisking in the roaring fire’s wake. “Counter my spells as best you can.”

Twilight felt her host's body tighten into a rigid stance. Her eyes narrowed. Princess Platinum saw, smiled, and fired off her first spell. A ball of fire flared like a sun in the room’s heart. Twilight felt her magic surge, looked to the ceiling, and watched as a bucket of water cascaded overhead and snuffed the sun out in a ball of steam.

Platinum smiled. Her horn fired again and lifted three books from their places on the shelf. They orbited her several times, then rocketed for Twilight’s host. She caught them deftly in her magic, handling them with unerring precision. They spun around her several times, then alighted back in the spaces they’d abandoned.

Platinum’s smile grew. She gave a hearty stomp, and the room went black. Twilight strained her eyes, but saw nothing. Suddenly, the hearth roared back to life to reveal not one Princess Platinum, but five, every one of them mirroring perfectly the one before. Twilight looked to them each, but nothing came to highlight which of them was the mare whose spell she was supposed to counter. A surge of panic, not magic, gripped her. She’d done so well until now! What would happen if she failed? Her eyes flicked frantically over them all, but nothing came. Each of the copies frowned sadly. This is the end of it!

Fear gripped her heart and tore through her horn. The lights died out again. She felt something twist and turn inside her. It felt like magic, but never before had it felt so real! It felt as though it had substance, as though every limb and strand in her mane was filled with power. She breathed a little gasp. Her horn ignited. The lights turned back on. The copies were still there, each of them Platinum, but they frowned no longer. They looked at Twilight’s host in awe. One-by-one they fizzled away, popping into nothingness until only one remained. Platinum paced forward, struck dumb with wonder. “How have you come into possession of such magic?”

Twilight felt her magic slowly dwindle away, leaving her shaking on the wooden floor. She looked to her mint-green hooves in confusion. What had she done to strike such fear into her princess’s heart? She hadn’t said a spell, or thought of one, or conjured anything malicious! What had she done?! “I don’t know! Please, I don’t know! Forgive me, I don’t know what I did! Please, princess! I didn’t mean to do it!”

“Hush now, little one,” Princess Platinum whispered, holding her close. “You did nothing wrong. You... you surprised me is all.” She raised Twilight’s chin and stared into her, through her, as though nothing else mattered in the world save her. “Who taught you that spell?”

“No one,” Twilight felt herself say. “It just happened!”

“You learned it not from your Headmaster or Miss Bluebell?”

“No, I swear it!”

Slowly the hardness of her eyes receded. “I believe you,” she said quietly. “I believe you...”

“You’re not going to banish me, are you?”

In a flash Platinum’s eyes were on her. “Why sayest thou such a thing? Banish you? Banish the thought! You are but a filly. You know not what you do.” When Twilight’s breathing had finally slowed, they took a few moments in the other’s embrace before Platinum raised her eyes one last time. “I have one more question for you, love. Answer me true, and speak not lies. Your future depends on it.”

Twilight stifled her fear and nodded.

“Would you like a better life, love?”

Her eyes were as soft as silk, softer even than the silken gown she’d adored just minutes before. She felt her close, felt the honesty in her tone, and abandoned all her fears. There was nothing of the sort, not here. Not with Princess Platinum. Twilight felt herself bite her lip as she sank into thought. Then, with a smile, she raised her eyes and nodded happily.

“Then we haven’t a moment to waste.”

Platinum rose to her hooves and drifted her grand cloak over them both, taking great care to ensure no lick of wind could ever find them. Twilight felt her hooves scramble to keep up with her as Platinum strode confidently to the exit. Her horn glimmered and pushed the doors aside as though they weighed nothing. The wind rushed in, but at Platinum’s side there was no such thing as the cold. Twilight looked to her gown, looked to Platinum, and felt a sun swell in her heart.

I'm going home...

They stepped together between two straight lines of soldiers, looking only ahead. Miss Bluebell sobbed from behind the soldiers’ spears, her blubbering incomprehensible, tear-sodden and utterly joyous. The Headmaster stood beside her, his spirit broken. Platinum stopped before them, eyeing the Headmaster with disdain. “You have until nightfall to leave this place. You’ve shamed these Gilded Lands, and I’ll have none of you nor your ilk poisoning her further.” She fixed her eyes on Miss Bluebell. “This house is yours, Headmistress. Teach and feed your wards well, remembering always this one.” She turned and looked at Twilight. “The world needs more of her kind.”

Miss Bluebell whimpered her thanks, then returned to crying tears of joy. Twilight turned to watch her go, knowing it would be the last she’d ever see her. The ex-Headmaster at her side fumed, his face beet-red. “Milady, please!” Platinum didn't hear him. Their eyes were on the future.

They strode to the grand door, the stamp of soldiers close behind them.

“Milady!” he screamed again. They were too far out of the door. The future was too bright, and their spirits too high.

They stepped out into the sunlight outside.

“Milady!”

“Milady!!!”

~~~***~~~

“Milady?”

Twilight felt something warm brush her shoulder. Her eyes cracked open and let the light in. A hazy figure passed her view, followed by an abrupt shake. “Milady, please! Wake up!”

Feeling coursed back into her hooves. The light grew brighter. A voice thundered in her ears.

“Princess!!!”

She jolted to her hooves, frantic, looking about wildly. The room was gone! Some books remained, but the paintings, the shelves, the chairs... Everything was gone! “What happened?” Twilight said, trying in vain to catch her breath. “Where is everyone?!”

She became aware of a pony gripping her shoulders tight. She stopped, turned, and found a wild-eyed and frantic Summer holding her still. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

“No, I... I was...” She looked to the ground and the cold stones that had been there just seconds prior. Only the soil remained. A line of nonsense scribbles littered the ground, hoof-scratched and meaningless. She looked to her dirty hooves, then back to the markings. “Did I... Are those...”

“Yours, yes! What happened to you?” Her eyes snapped open. “Penumbra! Did she—”

“No,” Twilight said. “It wasn’t her, it was something... something else! I was somewhere else, and so was Princess Platinum! I talked with her!”

Summer stared back, horrified. “Ma’am, I need you to sit down and take a few deep breaths...”

“I’m fine!”

“Twitching and shaking is the exact opposite of fine!” Her breathing slowed. “What happened to you, ma’am?”

“I... I went back in time!”

Summer froze. “What you’re saying is impossible...”

Twilight scoffed. “I can assure you it’s not! That diary you found? It sent me back in time! Here, I’ll show you!” She lunged past Summer for the book pile, searching for the diary and its message. She found it buried beneath her silk sheets, scuffed in dirt. “Here,” she said, thrusting it into Summer's waiting hooves. “Look on the inside cover!”

Summer opened the book, looked inside, scanned the text, looked up, and frowned. “There’s nothing here, ma’am...”

“What?!”

Twilight ripped it from her hooves. True enough, the poem that had etched itself on the inside cover had disappeared. “That’s impossible! It was just here two minutes ago!”

“Two minutes? Ma’am, I was gone for over an hour.”

“That’s impossible...”

Summer turned around carefully. Twilight gasped: her back was wrapped in a layer of gauze so thick it was a wonder she could move her wings. “Rosy’s a perfectionist,” she grumbled, wincing with pain. “He wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied.”

“An hour... I can’t...” Twilight slumped to her cushion. “But it felt so real!”

“It looked like it did.”

“But it was real! She was there! Her and Miss Bluebell and the soldiers, they were all there!”

“You were dreaming, ma’am. You’ve had a long day, and you fell asleep. IThat’s all it was.” She gave her a comforting little nudge. “Penumbra’s gotten to you, ma’am. Let us worry about her. Get some sleep, and whatever you do: don’t take it for granted. Who knows when we’ll sleep easy again.”

Nor take for granted what I see...

The poem returned, flooding through her mind in a daze: Mind and body, soul and heart, meld into one through arcane art. To time and text myself impart to bring this memory to its start...

It couldn’t be...

“It was a memory.”

Summer stopped in her tracks. “A what?”

Twilight nodded resolutely. “It was a memory! The poem said I shouldn’t take for granted what I saw! It was a spell, and that vision was a memory!” She straightened up. “These books... We thought they were gibberish, but they’re just the opposite! They’re memories, Summer! These are all chock-full of memories! Someone left these for us to find!”

“Who, then?”

Twilight didn’t have an answer, at least not at first. She thought back to what she’d seen. It was fading fast, but some things remained: Princess Platinum and her tests; The orphanage and its staff, especially Miss Bluebell; The stallions in their armor. She remembered the long walk out of the building, how wonderful it felt walking at Princess Platinum’s side. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind, not now nor then: this was the path she was destined to follow. She’d belonged right there beside her, side-by-side to the ends of the earth.

Bound together towards a new home...

Twilight looked at Summer, her eyes filled with wonder.

“This diary belongs to Clover the Clever.”

Chapter Six: The Great Work Begins

Chapter Six:

The Great Work Begins

—

"Clover the what?!"

Dawn had come effortlessly—nearly a blink of an eye between the reigns of the sun and moon—but still her sleep had been hard-fought. Finding the energy to chew her breakfast was an ordeal in itself. Still, Twilight found some reason to be excited in watching Compass Rose. His question hinted at the presence of a hidden reserve of curious energy that she couldn't help but absorb. Summer, too, seemed invigorated, though her injuries still dominated most of her attention. She sat now just out of reach, eating her breakfast in the spaces between pained breaths. Twilight caught her eyes, then gestured towards Compass Rose. "Think you can fill him in?"

Summer swallowed her oatmeal, winced, and gripped her chest. A taut smile found her pushing through the pain. "She was an aide to the first princess of Equestria, Princess Platinum, as well as being the pony responsible for Hearth’s Warming Eve. Well, her and a few others. That’s close... right, Twilight?"

"That's the gist of it," Twilight replied, swelling up with pride. “But she's so much more than just that. She was second only to Star-Swirl the Bearded in terms of contributions to our understanding of magic! I got to play her in the Canterlot Hearth's Warming Eve Pageant! I read everything I could about her in preparation for it, but to actually be in her horseshoes? It was unlike anything I've ever experienced!"

Compass Rose perked his ears. "How can you be sure it was her, ma’am? You saw her in a dream, right? Shouldn't that be a red flag?"

"Not a dream," Summer interjected. "A memory, and if Princess Twilight says it was her, it's her!"

Twilight grimaced. "He's right: we can't jump to conclusions. The evidence is heavily in her favor—her proximity to Princess Platinum, their relationship, her handle on advanced magic—but that doesn't necessarily mean it's her. I saw it through her eyes, felt it as she had... but I can't be sure. I’ll be trying again tonight to see if I can learn more.”

Summer’s ears perked; Twilight hadn’t been the only one who’d heard that hesitant tremor in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Those markings, the words I wrote on the ground... They have nothing to do with the memory! They’re gibberish, just like everything else. They’re not the spell.”

“What the hell are they then?” Compass Rose shot Summer a glare, but she was resolute in her opinion. “Don’t you give me that look, Rosy! You’re not the one who jumped out of their skin dodging statue shrapnel!” He rolled his eyes. Summer looked to Twilight with a frown. “What do you believe they are, ma’am?”

“I don’t know... residue, maybe? You can’t write a spell down without getting a little ink on your hooves. Things are always left behind. Unless there’s something in those scribbles that can be reverse-engineered to give us a clue, they’re just a symptom to an unknown problem.”

“I didn’t know we had a problem. You did it just fine last night, right? Why not just recite the poem again?”

“Incantation,” Twilight corrected, “and it’s not that simple.”

Summer tenderly repositioned her wing. “Magic’s not exactly high on the ‘Pegasi List of Things to Know’. Mind giving me a crash course?”

Twilight pushed her bowl away and sat up straight. It felt so much like something Celestia would’ve done that she couldn’t help but feel encouraged. “Imagine building a castle. You have all the requirements: cut stones, wooden scaffolding, mortar, nails... but no blueprints. You can try and build the castle with the knowledge of what you want it to look like, but without a firm foundation the castle—or spell—will be horribly shaky. Sorcerers more powerful than I have been crushed in the weight of spells-gone-awry, and some of them had everything they needed to succeed. If one is smart enough, they can build the blueprints based on their knowledge of magical theory. But if this truly is Clover the Clever we’re dealing with, then we need to be careful. She practically wrote the book on the subject.”

Summer bit her lip. “So if that memory was the castle, the finished product, and the incantation was the blueprint to make it, then we just need the materials.”

“Which are currently gibberish, and without those there is no castle.”

Summer nodded, pursed her lips, and shrugged. “So we’re basically screwed.” Compass Rose’s jaw fell as he wheeled on her, but Twilight raised her hoof to stop him. Summer bowed her head with a little cough. “Sorry, ma’am...”

“You’re forgiven,” Twilight said, sharing a tiny smile with her. “And if you’re the pessimist I get the feeling you aren’t, then that’s one way to look at it. Another way to think of it is as an opportunity to learn more about one of the greatest minds that ever was!”

Compass Rose looked over, his eyes downcast. “If I might interject, ma’am... How does knowing about her contribute at all to finding Princess Luna? How will this help us know our enemy, as you said we should?”

Luna’s name reverberated in her mind like a distant warning bell tolling clearly over the northern horizon. The mere thought of her was more tangible than Clover’s memories, but wreathed in a pain beyond comprehension, an aching of the heart that no fantasy of Clover could fill. Her rescue was paramount, but to find her was to invite a horror into a world paralyzed by the mere suggestion of its name. That was more than her weary mind could take, but it was one step that needed to be taken. She took a calming breath. One step at a time, Twilight...

“That spell wasn’t the only thing we found,” she finally said. “We’ve got Star-Swirl’s textbook, a history of an old kingdom, journals, scrolls, that diary... Documents hidden away. Documents worth hiding. The more we learn, the more likely we’ll find a clue as to Luna’s whereabouts. If we give up now, we’ll never know.” He blinked, let his head fall, then placed his final cleaned dish in the pile along with all the others. He’s still soft, Twilight thought. He doesn’t need any more discouragement. “We’ve got everything we need,” she said happily, shooting him a smile. “And thanks to you and those books you brought, we have a whole lot more to keep us moving. We’ll find her, Rosy. I promise.”

A little flicker of a grin crossed his lips. “Of course, ma’am.”

Summer watched him replace his bowls and cinch down the ropes binding the wagon’s load, then joined him in preparing for their departure. Twilight watched them, noticing a certain urgency in their actions. Turning, she found the source: the arrival of Vanguard and his shackled guest. He lumbered towards where Twilight stood, his magic holding the chains of Penumbra’s collar tight. Twilight ignored Summer's furious growl and bowed her head, trying her hardest to remain civil before her prisoner. “Good morning, colonel. I trust you slept well?”

“No, Your Highness,” he snapped, giving another tug on his chain. Penumbra obeyed, but not without mumbling her claim to his disembodied head. “I was occupied with your ‘guest’. Soon, I’ll be occupied with flogging the private who abandoned his watch over her."

From the corner of her eye, Compass Rose hid himself from view behind the wagon. Twilight moved between them. “You will not punish him for my actions. It was I who unbuckled her chains, not him.”

“It was he who permitted it to happen, despite my strict orders that you should be kept at a safe distance. It was his duty to keep you safe, and he failed.” He dropped his voice, and with it: any shred of levity. “We’ve discussed what will come of failures, Your Highness...”

“But the failure is mine, not his. I sent him to find Summer, colonel, because I was worried that he—no, she!—hadn’t arrived from her patrol. If I hadn’t done that, he’d have been there to prevent Penumbra from attacking me. It’s as simple as that.”

“Quite the opposite, ma’am. He had orders, and he disobeyed! Any soldier who disobeys a command from a superior officer is sentenced—”

“I'm his superior officer,” Twilight barked. “Just as I am yours. You'd be wise not to question me on that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he tossed Penumbra’s chain to Summer and stepped between Twilight and the others. He gestured with his eyes away from the wagon. It wasn’t a request. Before the terrified little princess within could acknowledge what was happening, Twilight was what felt like miles away from the wagon, trapped in Vanguard's shadow. He dropped his voice to a whisper. Not even Penumbra had ever sounded so vicious. “I demand an explanation, Your Highness.”

“I would ask the same in regards to your tone, colonel.”

His anger subsided with all the haste of a glacial melt, but eventually he breathed with a modicum of calm. “I demand... I would appreciate an explanation, Your Highness, as to our agreement yesterday. I’d believed the accord we’d struck to be iron-clad.”

“They're still yours to supervise, colonel, as they’ve been since we talked last.”

“Perhaps the stipulations of our agreement weren’t universally understood. When they are in my service, they are there to protect you and nothing else. They are not yours for errands, or for personal favors, or to make you feel better! They are not your friends! They are mine to command! Mine to punish! Mine!”

“You said they were to follow your orders as second only to mine! That when their drills were completed, they were free to visit with me!”

“The rules have changed,” he said, looking over her shoulder at Penumbra. “Everything has changed, Your Highness. Last night is proof that we’re at more of a risk than we thought.”

“We’re in the same risk as we were when we set out.”

“When we set out, you weren’t releasing a demon in our midst to satiate your guilt.”

Twilight’s breath caught in her throat. “Watch your tongue, colonel...”

Vanguard closed his eyes with a sigh. “It is not my tongue which you must mind, princess. She has a hold on you, one that extends far further than you dare think about. She’s poisoning you with words just as she poisoned Celestia.”

“You don’t think I understand that?!”

“Truly? No, I do not.”

For the first time, Twilight wished that he was being anything but honest. She found no indication to validate her fears. “What are you saying, colonel?”

Vanguard thought for a time. When he spoke, Twilight felt as though his words had no direction. She prayed it would remain that way. The truth striking home wasn’t something she was ready for. “I was asked to guide you, to aid you, to take upon myself every worry you possess and to defend you from any enemy that might come to hinder your progress. I find now, with last night’s eventualities, the tables have turned. It is not you who needs to be defended from them. It’s them needing defense from you.”

A chill ran her through. As she stood there in silence, her rebuttal on her tongue, she found no excuses. It had been her, and her alone, who’d released Penumbra from her chains. Who’d remained in her place as Luna and Celestia were spirited away from them. It hadn’t even been an argument, not at the time, though she’d torn her mind to pieces in the aftermath in search of a reason why. Even now, she didn’t know... but what was clear was that of all the possible dangers, she was the most volatile yet. “I... I never imagined she would change into Celestia...”

“And that is precisely why she changed. She’s not playing against you, milady. She’s playing you. She knows your greatest fears, your greatest weaknesses, every nightmare and every hope... She knows you better than you know yourself. Her kind doesn’t survive without knowing thus.”

“Unless she’s a mind reader, she can never know what I’m thinking.”

“No?” Slowly he paced around her, keeping her firmly within his orbit. It was more than Twilight could bear, to feel his gravity weigh down on her. “You pity her, ma’am. You see her rotting corpse, her madness, her disillusionment, and you think you might save her from herself just like you did Princess Luna. You hold this flame of hopeless optimism without knowing the candle’s been snuffed since Celestia took the blade. You yearn to hold your friends and know they’re safe because you rely on the Elements of Harmony to protect us. Not your instincts or training, not your intellect... You rely on something you can’t see or taste or touch, something you’ll never know has left you until it’s gone.”

Twilight closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. “That’s not true...”

“She played you from the beginning,” he continued, his voice skulking in the dark. “Your friends? They were pawns for her. She paraded in their visages not just as a ploy, but as a taunt. What better way to slip past your awareness? What better way to wheedle her way next to Celestia? You never noticed how cold they were, did you? Never gave it a second thought! And why? Because you're so dumbstruck by your dependence on them that you don't even consider what your instincts are telling you. You cling to them just as you cling to Celestia and Luna... but guess what, princess? They’re gone. All of them. All that’s left is us, so you latch onto my soldiers and subvert my command. Why? Guilt, and a willingness to do anything you can to ignore that which scares you most. Something we all had to learn the hard way..."

Twilight shut her eyes tighter, steeled her roiling gut, pulled any happy memory to her mind... Anything to keep her lip from trembling. “Please, stop...”

“You can’t be alone. You fear it beyond anything else. The thought that there might be no one left to guide you along your own path terrifies you so much that you will never allow yourself to realize just how much you stand to lose because of it. So what do you do? You give yourself to Celestia and Luna, to your friends and the Elements they bear... To anyone who might share responsibility for a life you’re too scared to live on your own. You hold them close, assured by the thought that they'll never leave you... but now, they have. Celestia is dying, and you don’t know how to save her. Luna is captured, but you don’t know where. The Elements and their Bearers are stolen, but you can’t find them...”

“Please... Please stop...”

“The zebras threaten war, and you can’t pacify them. Our plea to the griffons? Fallen on deaf ears! You’re out here alone without a place to go, surrounded by your books and your promises and your hopes, too ignorant and too scared to realize that only you can save them! A monster is hunting us, and he’s using your guest as his beacon! She’s probably communicating your every move as we speak!”

“Please! I can’t take this!”

“You don’t know where to go! You don’t know what to do! You don’t know where Luna is, and you don’t know how to save Celestia, so you bury your nose in your books and pray something comes to light, never realizing the world is burning all around you!”

“Please!!!”

He stopped just as quickly as he’d begun, leaving the air to ring with the sound of her all-but-stifled heaving. She clutched her chest, battled her trembling lungs, prayed and prayed with every strangled breath that her heart wouldn’t rip in her chest under the pain. He was right. Every word he’d spoken was true. They were gone, each of them, and she alone was responsible for everything. Waves of pain crashed against her stomach, threatening to send her over the edge and into despair. But then, slowly, she felt something brush the tears from her chin. She opened her eyes and found him staring down at her.

“And I didn’t need to read your mind, did I?”

The dagger twisted in her gut, pulling her core in on itself... but before she lost herself in sorrow completely, he pulled her chin up. It wasn't wrapped in his usual heaviness that she found him. Instead, his eyes shone with a sincere understanding. He knew this agony, this abyss of regret looming in her heart. He gave her a little, simple, honest smile. "What did she say to you?"

It took more strength than she'd expected to fight against the heaving of her chest, but after a great effort she choked out a wet, shaky “W-w-who?”

“Who do you think?”

Twilight gulped down some air. She thought of Cadance; a deep breath in, a long breath out. A memory of her came to mind, a glimpse of her before their grand entrance. Cadance had never been so beautiful, but it was only in Luna’s cold presence that such a radiant gem as she could be truly marvelled. Slowly, Luna’s shadow enveloped the memory and made cold the sunlight on her skin. Twilight blinked, thinking of those emotionless eyes of her former mentor.

If she falls, Equestria falls...

“She... She t-t-told me to forget m-my fears.”

“What else?”

Twilight’s gut’s clenching passed. “She... She said I calmed my heart but wore my fears for all to see—”

“‘When it must be in the reverse’?”

Twilight nodded meekly.

Vanguard took a deep breath, held it for what seemed like minutes, then let it out slowly. “She is an old soul, more aligned with her demons than any who walk this earth. Her self-born monster—her Nightmare—was not born of ignorance, selfishness, or any other lesser vice. Fed by jealousy, it was born of something far more dangerous: fear. Fear took her, made her submit rather than fight, crippled her when her life required strength. She gave in, and a darkness took her. She learned her mistake too late, but by then there was no one to hear her pleas. No absolution amongst the moon's cold stones. You mustn’t fall into the same despair.”

A hollowness crept through Twilight’s veins. What must it have been like, to relive all of her life’s failures in the darkness as Luna had? What better fuel for madness? What more brutal punishment for sins half-understood? “I can never be that strong,” Twilight said. “I could never suffer as much as she has.”

“You speak as though you have a say in the matter.”

“I do have a say in my own life!”

“And it is because of that naïveté that you will fail.”

Twilight retreated from him, eyeing him with disdain. “Why are you doing this, colonel? Is it not enough that I failed them? That I let Penumbra take them away from us? Do you not think I cry myself to sleep every night thinking about how I froze up? About what's been asked of you, or Rosy, or Summer? I do! Not a second goes by that I don’t hate myself for what happened, or that I wish I was taken instead! Is that not enough for you? What more would you have me do?”

“I would have you understand your part in your failures. I would have you know the full extent of your shortcomings. I would have you embrace those things you fear, know them better than you know yourself, and let them come willingly.”

“And let Penumbra have her pick of things to torture me with? What good will any of that do?”

“All the good in the world.”

His words rang with history, some base upon which the assurance in his voice rested. It stuck out more than the silence around them, or the rustling of cargo as Compass Rose and Summer finished their preparations. It made more sense than any other one of his cryptic assertions. Twilight inched forward, full of curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t always as I am now,” he began, his voice held low through what felt like great effort. “Once, I was just like you: self-assured and confident. Hardships came, things for which I was unprepared. I let my fear guide my actions, and my enemies took advantage of it. I never truly recovered. I was held captive by the same guilt and confusion you feel now. It was not until Luna was returned to us that I found someone who’d suffered as I had suffered. With her, I found peace. She taught me to know my fears, to embrace my failures and know what brought them to life. I learned, and I struggled, and I trained myself as she had: in silence and solidarity. Now, my enemies know me not. I have taken away their greatest asset and made it mine. I have made myself my own.”

His words left her stunned, and not because of their novelty. In a wave, his entire being made more sense. There was reasoning behind his cold anger, a source of fuel for the fire in his eyes. His kinship with Luna, his adherence to and pontification of her principles... Things clicked into place. He wasn’t so much a spurned candidate, as Compass Rose had defined him. He was Luna’s disciple, her true protégé. Her personal student, just as Twilight was Celestia’s. Twilight gulped down her anxiety and nodded her understanding.

“What do I need to do?”

Vanguard, with his customary frown, stood at attention and looked down upon her. “You need to hear a truth, princess. You need to know it exists, regardless of whether you believe it or not. It is one every leader must accept, for a time will soon come when it comes to fruition. How you are able to handle it depends entirely on you."

"What is it?"

"The knowledge that all of us—Compass Rose, Summer, and myself—will die."

Twilight scoffed. "Everyone dies eventually, colonel. That's an immutable fact of lif—"

"It will be by your hoof that we perish."

His words fluttered into her ears, and all at once the air in her lungs left her. "I don't believe a word of that..."

"You were never asked to believe it," he replied. "Only to recognize it."

"But how can I recognize something so blatantly wrong? I would never hurt any of you, much less kill you!"

"In the past day alone, you've managed to release your prisoner, almost die at her hooves, and beat your own guardian—the same guardian who saved you, mind—to within an inch of her already-battered life. Forgive my boldness, but if you’re so naïve as to think you won't be held accountable for your actions, then you truly don’t deserve the crown Luna gave you."

For the second time, the little blade of truth twisted in her stomach. Though she hated every moment, and though his gravity did nothing to ease her heartache, a part of her was glad for the honest counsel. "I... I never meant to hurt her..."

"I know that, Your Highness. She knows that. She has already forgiven you, and why? Because fear drove you to do it. You gave in to fear. It’s done, and nothing can change that. Now, you must look upon it and realize that what you do and how you act can, and will, have severe consequences. Your decisions, your knowledge, your responsibilities... They will drive you to lengths you've never encountered before, lengths from which you may look back and not be able to see where you came from. This is the burden of all leaders, royal and common alike. It is a universal trial that all must face, and it begins by understanding what drives you to make those choices."

“Then teach me, colonel! Teach me how to understand my fears!”

He shook his head heavily. “That is something I cannot do. That is a task which only you must undertake.”

“I thought you were supposed to help me!”

“Did anyone help Princess Luna when she was faced with the same trial?”

Twilight didn’t know how to respond to that. “Well, no, but—”

“Then why should it be any different for you?”

“Why? Because we’re not exactly in the best of conditions right now! Please, I’m asking for your help!”

“You’re asking the wrong pony.”

Twilight let out a deep, frustrated growl, then sat down hard. “Why are you even here, then? You’ve done nothing but undermine and confuse me from the start!”

“I said I would protect you, princess. I never said you were going to like how.”

Twilight rubbed her scalp and closed her eyes, praying that when she reopened them that he’d be gone. Opening her eyes proved her hopes dashed, and the day still ticking on. Twilight let out a little sigh. “There’s so much I don’t understand...”

“You are in a position that no other soul in this world would enjoy. Frustration is your right, and one I would be surprised if you didn’t use.”

“But I shouldn’t be frustrated. I should know how to control myself, how to think under pressure, how to make good decisions and do the right thing but... but I just don’t know what to do anymore. I always had the girls to point me in the right direction. I always had Celestia as a safety net. I always had Luna for... for...” She gave a wet chuckle. “Well, I always had Luna...”

“You’ve had many wells to draw from. Now is the time to use what you know in practice.”

“How can I use what I was never taught how to do properly?”

“Only with great effort.”

“You’re not helping.”

“You wouldn’t learn if I did.”

Twilight held her breath. Her heart slowed. She closed her eyes and felt him slide away into the background until she was utterly alone. The winds flowed effortlessly through the grass. Birds awoke and took to the air, jubilation in their hearts and on their tongues. The world sped on, and she alone was standing still. She was all that mattered, and her decisions and her trials would be hers and hers alone to command. Things would come, and she would be ready. Everything will be fine, she thought, releasing a long exhale. Everything will be fine.

She opened her eyes and found the plains just as calm as before, the morning sun still radiant, Vanguard still foreboding and emotionless. But at least now, with his anger extinguished and herself calmed down, things were beginning to make sense. She gave him a nod. “I think I understand.”

“So say all fools.”

He brushed past her brusquely, but bowed his head a fraction of an inch. It was good enough for now. He made a beeline for the harness before the wagon, lifting the yoke and struts with ease. Compass Rose and Summer took their stations behind Penumbra, their armor strapped on tight, their eyes filled with concern for their princess. “It’s nothing,” Twilight said, noticing their worry. “We just had a little talk.”

Compass Rose cocked his head. “What about, Your Highness?”

Summer massaged the space between her eyes and shook her head. “How can you still be so dense? They were talking about you!”

“I just thought I’d ask...”

“Stop acting so innocent, Rosy!”

“Knock it off, Summer,” Twilight snapped. “It’s none of your concern, so keep your nose out of his business!” Her eyes flashed to a terrified Compass Rose, holding him fast. “And you? I’m not going to keep getting yelled at because of you shirking your duties. You failed to complete your morning drills yesterday, and you abandoned your watch last night. I know it was mostly my fault this time, but the next time you screw up I'm not going to be there to save you. Do you understand?”

His lip began to tremble. “Ma’am, I didn’t mean—”

“Do you understand?”

He nodded quickly. “I... I understand.”

He turned away and never looked back. A great creaking rent the air as the wagon and its driver lurched forward to begin the day’s long march. Penumbra jolted onwards as her chain caught the slack, filling the air with another muffled tirade of curses. Compass Rose followed close behind, but not Summer. With a wary eye on Twilight she allowed herself to ease her pace, eventually joining Twilight’s side. She cleared her throat. “He means well, Your Highness. Believe me when I say he’s only looking out for you.”

“Have you finished your duties, Summer?”

“It’s what I’m doing now,” she replied. “I’m making sure you’re okay.”

“You don’t need me to announce my every emotion to know how I’m feeling. Unless I’m crying or bleeding, you shouldn’t be talking to me.”

“What if I just want to talk?”

“I don’t care what you want.”

Summer winced and fell back, but with a flap of her wings she was right back to her station. She did little more than stare, a fire in her watery eyes. “Where is this coming from, Twilight? I thought we were—”

“You thought we were what?”

“Well, I... I was going to say ‘friends’! I thought after everything we’ve been through—”

“We haven’t been through anything together,” Twilight snapped, falling to a dead stop. “We haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of what we’re undertaking, so if you think finding a few books for me gives you the right to distract me from finding my actual friends, then you’ve got another thing coming."

Summer said nothing, nor could she. Every response rising in her throat died upon looking into Twilight’s eyes. Finally, she turned away, flapped her wings, and alighted next to Compass Rose. Her eyes joined his in watching the wagon and, once there, never once turned back to Twilight.

Twilight watched her hooves and the blur of golden grass passing beneath them. The sun had barely moved on the horizon. She could feel her skin crisping under its heat. It felt like it would linger there forever.

It was shaping up to be another long day.

“You’re not doing it right, Rosy!”

“Oh, and you would know better, right? You failed Navigation, remember?”

“Only you scouts are supposed to know that kind of stuff, not me! And besides, it was too overcast to get a good shadow!”

“How about now? The sky’s about as empty as your head.”

Summer pushed him over with a growl, sending him tumbling into the grass. “Say that again!”

He scrambled to his hooves, trying his hardest to hide his surprise. “Cut the act, Summer! We both know you won’t hurt me.”

“I am this close to giving you a taste of what I got last night, so don’t test me!”

“Because that’s exactly what you need,” he countered. “Another test to flunk!”

Before he could scream she was upon him, tackling him to the ground with a howl of anger. She landed a few solid punches before a blur of purple pulled them apart. "Cut it out!" Twilight barked, standing between them. She watched Compass Rose wipe blood from his lip, then wheeled on Summer. "What's gotten into you?!"

"She just attacked me, princess! I didn't do anything wrong!"

Summer scoffed. "Bullshit you didn't!"

"Enough of this!" Twilight stomped her hoof, kicking up a puff of dust. "I don't care who started it, because I'm finishing it!" She waited for the tension to ease, then turned calmly to Compass Rose. "Tell me what happened."

"I was only trying to get our bearings straight, ma'am, before ‘Psycho’ here came around and screwed up my calculations!"

Summer snorted. "I've told you a million times: there's nothing to calculate! They make compasses so you don't have to fiddle with your little sticks and waste what break time we have! We should’ve left an hour ago, but instead we're frying out here!"

Twilight could only find reason to agree with her. Hours of silence and silent pondering, miles and miles of endless walking under a blazing heat, and yet the sun had nothing to show for it. Every time she’d looked to mark the time, the sun just wasn’t keeping up. The world sizzled angrily, heating the air in shimmering ripples like an endless ocean. Only the mountain's peaks could be seen. The rest was a blur, including their destination. The longer they waited, the more likely their ability to think rationally would be compromised. If it hasn't already.

"Why not use a compass, like Summer said?"

"I tried that, ma'am, but mine must be broken!"

He offered it to Twilight, who cradled it in her magic and held it before her. A quick turn of her body brought the needle to its desired place, but not a second later it averted course. No matter where it landed, it seemed loathe to stay there for more than a second. She drifted it back to him, shaking her head sadly. "I'm afraid you're right, Rosy. Any chance it can be fixed?"

"I can try, but I haven't the foggiest how long that'll take, and Summer's right: it's far too hot to linger here any longer. I thought I could use a shadow, but I’ve been trying ever since we stopped and nothing’s come of it. The sun’s just not moving fast enough."

Twilight said nothing. For a moment, she couldn’t feel her skin blistering in the sun’s light. Every thought and every hope she had was dedicated to Celestia, and every worry towards the sun lingering overhead. Something was wrong, she could feel it. Something had happened, and the news hadn’t yet arrived. Wherever they were, Spike and Shining Armor were undergoing a crisis just as she was now. She turned towards the wagon, praying they didn’t see her face. “Let me see what I can do.”

She leapt to the wagon and rummaged through its contents, trying furiously to keep her mind on her mission and not on the horrors that hovered over the southern horizon. Beneath the many arrows of Compass Rose’s arsenal and the myriad packages of food and sundries lay the object of her search: Star-Swirl’s textbook, with its cover’s silver whorls gleaming brilliantly. She whipped the pages aside and scanned over the artwork, past the various spells and enchantments and their definitions until one particular image caught her eye. More a cartoon, she thought, looking over the image of a colt lost in a dark wood, his compass smashed to pieces. In the final panel, he had found his home, thanks to the pulsing light of a little arrow. Below the illustrations, she found her spell. All it required was an extension of the mind’s grasp on space. Simple. What else could come of use, she wondered, idly flipping the page. Her mind wandered, and eventually her hoof, until she found herself in another chapter entirely.

Page after page of colorful drawings passed until she found herself enraptured by the smiling, inquisitive face of a young filly sitting in Star-Swirl’s shadow, a little book laid out before her. On its pages, hoof-drawn with extreme precision, sat lines of black text. An infinitesimally small message. But then, in the panels below, something caught Twilight’s eye. Tiny, metallic words had replaced some of the words on the page. They glimmered, distinct from their neighbors, meticulously written in silver ink. Hidden in plain view. Twilight gasped.

A secret message...

She closed the book, her heart thumping in her chest. Was this the spell that would decipher her diary’s string of nonsense? Was this a breakthrough? She couldn’t know for sure; The spaces in her heart on alert for absolution were now brimming with worry for Celestia. Still, though, hope fluttered. It was more than enough to send her trotting around the wagon, a smile on her face. “I think I’ve found just what we need!”

With a little scrunch of the nose she called her magic forth, reciting Star-Swirl’s spell in her mind. Her mind's eye centered on her immediate surroundings: on Summer, Rosy, Vanguard, Penumbra... the five of them, backs blazing red, waiting for her to return. Then, she panned out. Her view encapsulated their sliver of the grasslands; The Summer Sea entire; The mountains and the wood beyond; The Crystal Palace; Home. Soon, her mind fully extended from sea to sea as far as her memory could take her. Then, she mumbled the incantation. Her world condensed. Every point rushed into a singularity, crushing itself into existence. A little spark shot from her horn, fluttered before the three of them, then popped to life in the form of a little arrow. Its point panned to the horizon over Compass Rose’s shoulder, blinked three times, and then, with a little poof, vanished. Twilight gave him a smile. “Good enough?”

He gave an astonished start. “Perfect, Your Highness! How did you do that?”

“Found a spell in Star-Swirl’s manual,” she replied happily, sweeping up his discarded sticks. “There’s a bunch of things in there, things I’d never have thought to consider! Let’s push for where the marker pointed, and quickly. I don’t think we can take another minute of standing around baking.”

“Aye aye!” He trotted off to the wagon and chucked his broken compass within. Summer followed him at a distance, but stopped just shy of Twilight. She didn’t look as excited. She didn’t look like much of anything. Her face was a blank slate, equally one thing and its opposite, at every moment still. Then, she lowered her head. A sigh escaped her lips, just barely heard over the creaking of the wagon as they began anew. Within a few seconds she was gone, holding her station near Penumbra at the back. Twilight trotted to Compass Rose’s side, looking sadly to the blood slowly caking on his lip. “I’m sorry about what Summer did. I know she didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he said, a demure little smile on his face. “It’s not the first time she’s barked at me.”

“She’s tired, Rosy. We’re all tired.”

“It sounds like you might be more tired than the rest of us.” He gave a little shrug. “Are you sure that memory wasn’t a dream? Something born of exhaustion? I’ve been thinking about it a lot, ma’am. About you and Summer’s library visit. About the night you hiked into camp. You two haven’t had a full day’s rest between you since we started.”

Though she wouldn’t admit it, it had been the sole occupant of her mostly-empty mind since the day had begun. Exciting though it was, her vision had been a memory, for what sleep she’d had had been naught but a dreamless, fuzzy cloud. That memory, just like Star-Swirl’s navigation spell, had been an experience beyond words. It had taken her from her body, let her see from above and beyond, let her float and fly and witness history firsthand. It couldn’t have been a dream. I haven’t dreamed since...

Twilight swallowed the lump in her throat. “I... I never really thought about it.”

“You should be thinking about it, with all due respect.” His eyes lit up. “Why don’t you take a nap, ma’am? Take a load off!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am! Just hop in the back and we’ll let you know when we get to a suitable campsite.”

She moved to refuse, but there was something in his eagerness that made her content to surrender. A yawn snuck out, one she couldn’t cover in time. It only made him smile more. She surrendered with a sigh. “You’re right, Rosy. Are you sure you won’t need me?”

“Positive, ma’am!”

With that, she had all the permission she needed. With a flutter of wings, she bounded into the wagon, adjusting her wings to her side as Vanguard, with an almost-silent grunt, adjusted to the new-found weight. She pulled out a blanket and hid herself from the sun. Her eyes closed briefly, and immediately she felt herself be pulled away. Her blinks became longer, her breaths protracted, and the sharp, jagged edges of the wagon smoother and softer with every second.

She rested her eyes. The weight slid off her shoulders. Her spine eased its fiery throbbing.

She let out a little breath.

Finally, some peace...

~~~***~~~

“I can hear you...”

A whisper, a murmur lost in the echoing silence. Water dripped somewhere deep within, somewhere far away. Her breaths lost themselves in the dark. She repeated herself, but still the cave was quiet. She stood up, looked about, saw nothing but darkness. Steel scoured skin, and silence reigned.

“Are you there?”

No response. The cold, slick bars of a cell pressed against her cheeks as she leaned closer. Her ears flicked up. Nothing was coming. She looked past the stars in her mane, squinted her eyes, reached out in the dark.

“I know you’re out there.”

Still no answer. She slid to the ground. Her eyes blurred with tears.

“Please... I can't take anymore.”

Steel clashed against stone. A hoofstep, heavy and deliberate. Someone was coming.

Her eyes closed. The sound grew louder. She could hear breathing. Mumbling. Chuckling.

“Please....”

A blade glinted in the dark. Luna shed another tear.

“Twilight...”

~~~***~~~

Twilight jolted awake. Panic raced rampant through her heart as her eyes became accustomed to the dim light all around. Her hooves rubbed on smooth fabric, not steel. A blanket, made warm by the sun. It was just another nightmare, Twilight thought, wiping her cheeks dry. It had been far too real, nowhere near as cloudy as the previous night’s vision. It was almost as clear as the memory of the orphanage, but not benign or exhilarating. The tears soaking the blanket beneath her testified to that. Twilight shrugged the blanket from her shoulders, allowing the sun free entrance onto her skin. Don’t think about it, she thought. It’ll only drive you mad.

Twilight looked about, but nothing had changed. The sun sat at its zenith, scalding the land below. Ripples of heat had turned the grasslands into a mirror and the world an ocean of scalding light. Vanguard trudged on, his helmet’s crest ruffled and damp, his neck stained in sweat. Steadily he marched, the wagon and its shackled prisoner close on his tail. It had been just as she’d left it when sleep had finally taken her. Turning to a sweating Compass Rose, she satisfied her curiosity: “How long have I been out?”

At first, he didn’t seem to hear, but then with a deep pant his eyes flicked to the wagon. “About an hour,” he mumbled, straining with every word. “We’ll be there shortly, ma’am. We’ll be there. We’ll be...”

He trailed off, his eyes closing in exhaustion. It took him everything he had to say those words, or even put one hoof before the other. A long day indeed, but with every step they were just a fraction closer to Luna. She turned to Summer, but was unable to catch her eye. She had an uncanny ability to avoid eye contact, especially now. Twilight tried again, but was unsuccessful. She looked in her direction, smiling sadly. Give her time.
A few minutes of watching the horizons and the grasslands below proved fruitless. There was nothing to see. With a turn she looked to Star-Swirl’s spellbook, still glittering in the searing sun. A spearhead shone beneath it. She touched the blade, recoiling from its heat. An idea sprang to mind, supported in earnest by the throb of the sunburn on her back. A quick moment of work and rearrangement, some slight organization, and moments later a makeshift canopy popped up with plenty a shadow to spare. Compass Rose chuckled warmly from beside the wagon, which only made her more proud. She sat herself in the shade, took another look outside, and propped open Star-Swirl’s spellbook. The pages flew to the filly from before, seated happily beside her grizzled mentor. Twilight shared in her smile, looked over the images, and began to read the text below:

An honest heart in dire straits may find use for this spell;

Its root’s in honest discourse 'twixt those seeking to do well.

For ‘neath the snouts of ne’er-do-wells, it's difficult to shroud

In written word a secret note that’s meaningfully endowed.

Between you and another friend, think up a wordly cluster;

Three simple words of common tongue towards any thought you muster.

They must be inked and quite succinct, lest prying eyes o’erlook.

A good example’s hiding in the pages of her book.

Twilight broke her concentration and followed the book’s instructions, turning the textbook in the sunlight until the filly’s journal glinted with silver. There, just as the book had said, sat little words standing out from the others: Remember... Your... Secret. With those three simple words on her lips, she picked back up where she left off:

Repeat the triplet once or twice to keep it fresh of tongue,

Then think about your partner and your secret kept unsung.

Once more repeat—an easy feat—whilst touching scroll to pen.

Now, only those who know the key can show those words again.

Your secret’s safe, but be forewarned: should others sniff it out,

Then nothing will protect you when your secret’s put to rout.

She read it twice more before allowing herself to close the book. No matter the sing-song meter or childish influences, there was no denying that such a simple spell was possessive of infinitely more uses than what was intended. She remembered the silver journal and the bright blue message flaring to life on its inside cover. In the knowledge of the process, was there promise in trying again?

Were these the materials they were looking for?

In a blur she scrambled through the wagon’s contents, burrowing deep until the buckled bundle of books brushed against her hoof. She pulled out the silver journal and rubbed its lock clean, admiring its façade before curiosity finally forced her to flip it open. The incantation hadn’t reappeared on the inside cover, much to her dismay. There was, however, the grandest of changes: where once the words on the first page had been jumbled, they now had been rearranged, reassembled, or transformed into actual words. She sped through the first line, brimming with excitement. There were words, sentences, even syntax! She pulled her eyes to the top of the page and began to read, wading through the spidery, delicate scrawl until she was able to decipher the ancient text.

Her heart skipped a beat.

~~~***~~~

Day 17, Month of the Fallow Field.
Year 493 of the First Age.

As Platinum decrees, I must obey. Subordination is ever the scourge of will. I've pledged my fealty and love to her, and I have no misgivings for having done so. She has ever been the object of the highest adoration. Still, this task vexes me. To record my personal thoughts for all posterity in a filly’s diary suggests that my opinions are more prattle than practical, worthy of no special significance. That she has assigned it to me like a school project only adds to the misery. It feels as though I’ve taken a step backwards.

If ever another reads these words, I apologize. There is little you might learn that lays not in some other, more specific text. I can only hope you find some meaning, for I foresee none.

I begin my recollection of the week’s events. The winter rages on as it has since my foalhood. The patches of warm weather we enjoy are few and very far between, the last being some many months ago. Though many on the High Counsel disagree with her assessment, I place my trust in Weathermeister Thermal of the Pegasus clan; This winter shall not, as the High Magister believes, abate over the coming year. Thermal’s observations have always served us well, though voicing her name is akin to heresy in the eyes of the High Council. The fog hovering over their heads is one rife with prejudice. I can only hope the validation of her beliefs helps dispel that sickening cloud.

Our foals seem unvexed by the mounting snow. They play in the streets below my window with complete abandon, minding their mothers’ calls and their fathers’ warnings, utterly free to their whims and machinations. They know little else; Not but a quarter of them have known the embrace of the sun’s heat. Even I, barely a mare, can hardly remember. It pains me to think that they might never be truly warm. If they should ever enjoy those wondrous sunbeams that my memory deems fit to treasure, I would let the cold take me in my sleep and be happy for it. I cannot remember anything more wonderful than a sun in summer glory. I only hope they will feel a similar rapture soon.

I fear for their safety as the nights grow colder. Milady and I have been much aggrieved by the influx of reported deaths. Our magic and that of the Seven has done little to stave off the snow, nor is it enough to raise and lower the sun and moon according to schedule. Nights as long as days and days as long as hours are becoming more and more common. I struggle to help feed and clothe fillies and colts where I can, and though I have appealed to him on several occasions the High Magister looks upon my attempts as trivial. I could entertain the notion of vying for his position, should his time come. I already do more for our proud nation than that incomparably narrow-minded buffoon.

Perhaps in response to my feelings, my most beloved Princess Platinum has to myself and my dearest friend Penny extended a most special audience. Even as I write this, I await the summons. I know not that which propels the invitation, but my dear friend Penny has alluded to her thoughts on the matter. In her mind, the princess wishes to appoint me the Head Consul of her court, a title worthy of some esteem. I would be humbled beyond words, though in some respects dismayed. My heart lies in magic, not politics, and most certainly not in matters of the military; Her appointment would put me at odds with Field Marshal Phalanx. As if I'd earned enough disdain from him already. A young mare elevated to such status? Unheard of. I can only hope her rumors prove false, as much as it pains me to admit. There are some dragons best left undisturbed.

I must converse with the Earth pony Foodstuff Coordinator on the morrow. Radishes have become so popular that I have a hard time keeping up with the demand. Princess Platinum herself has demanded their introduction into her diet. Their nutritional benefits must explain the recent reports of their disappearance from the Earth pony stores. Scathing reports, their origins unknown, have indicated foul play, but whether by beast or pony is unclear. None seem to have any clue. How can I acquire them when not even Chancellor Puddin'head has any idea of their whereabouts?

Just looking outside gives me little hope the acquisition of any form of food might be possible. Down in the market, our ponies cry out for aid. The boiled cabbage slowly cooling on my desk fills me with sorrow. They don't deserve this kind of suffering, not for all the trials they've had to endure in this unrelenting winter. Something must be done, and not just amongst us unicorns. Only a concerted effort from all three races might end this blight. I will ply Milady Platinum for her thoughts on the matter. Given our relationship, I have some power to push for reconciliation. Hopefully she will see reason, if her prejudice against the Earth ponies and Pegasi permits.

If no compromise is reached, I don't see a way this winter will be one we survive. I can only hope something is done in time.

In the name of Her Highness Princess Platinum, Lady Regent of the Gilded Lands and Governess of its Outlying Territories, I do hereby decree th...

~~~***~~~

Her eyes fell to the bottom of the page and the swipe of ink running through the letter’s last few lines. Though some words still remained, the smear had eliminated how it had ended, or who had written it long ago. Twilight rubbed her temples and sighed. How convenient.

Looking back to the pages, her eyes drifted to the margins, to the day and date listed above, to anything that might provide some clue. If Star-Swirl’s secret spell was any hint, then only something shared would bring it about. A group of three words, a triplet possessive of another meaning. Looking closely, there was nothing to indicate that finding something like that would come easily. She read the entire entry twice more before giving in to frustration. What could it be?

Her eyes and head rested on the book’s front page. If it had been gibberish before, it was more so now, regardless of the deciphered words and their importance. She pored over the words, reassembled them, thought over all possible combinations until her mind and eyes were sore. Not even with the words inches from her nose could she find something ‘meaningfully endowed’, as the textbook had said. She blew the hair from her face.

Her eyes fell on a word: ‘remember’.

Wait...

She looked at it intently. Something—someone—had left a miniscule mark just above it. It wasn’t a mistake; Whomever owned this journal, regardless of the jumbled messages, had impeccable penmanship. It was a deliberate point, an ink-soaked mote, evidence of a finely-sharpened pen nib. The author had left something behind. A clue.

Just what I need!

Reinvigorated, Twilight began reading the message again, scouring every swoop of the pen as though it alone were the focus of her mad scramble for answers. Once more, ‘remember’ was alone in possessing the mark. She read down further, her nose pressed against the paper, reading further and further until finally, tucked above a letter, the mark had been made again. Her heart fluttered.

“‘My’...”

With excitement in control she stampeded through the last few lines. Now, the little mark was almost all she could see. Her eyes flashed quickly to the word ‘origins' towards the bottom of the page. The triplet was found. She couldn’t control her smile. She was so close, she could feel it! All it needed was one last piece: a memory of the author, the only one privy to its intention, the only one who'd know a spell as ancient as this one.

The only one who made any sense.

It was a face she’d never seen before, an image of a mare for whom she’d only had fantasies of. There was no telling what life she’d actually lived, or the troubles she’d faced, but with all the pieces in place there was no other mare more fitting. Twilight closed her eyes. She thought of Clover the Clever.

“Remember my origins.”

Before she could gasp the words on the page glowed, filling every corner of her makeshift tent with a brilliant blue light. She covered her eyes, breathless and terrified, filled with a sickening excitement she could hardly contain. A vision of Vanguard flickered to life: Let it come.

Don’t be afraid...

She opened her eyes. The light had petered away, leaving in its place the three marked words written in clear sky-blue magic. Once more she repeated them, keeping them on the tip of her tongue as the book had said. Once more again, just to keep them alive. Then, her thoughts rested on the poem from before. A final time she repeated the words in her mind. Her tongue formed the words of the incantation. Her eyes closed.

She felt herself slide away...

~~~***~~~

Mind and body, soul and heart...

The world slipped away in silence. All around, far beyond her grasp, the world waited, watching her float in a sea of white. It pounded in a cacophonous, empty din, and as she awoke it unveiled itself to her new-born eyes. Snow tinkled against an icy windowpane shaking in the pressing wind. A brave little candle stood defiant nearby, shedding what it could to warm a mint-green hoof splotched with black. This body and its movements weren't her own, just as the orphanage had been. She let everything come slowly, allowed herself to sink into the feeling and become one with her surroundings. She relaxed, and as she did she felt herself keenly aware of a creaking of an old rusty door. Her host turned, and she with it, to find a goldenrod-colored mare plodding carefully into the confines of a dusty study.

She was a gold-and-bronze beacon in an otherwise dark and dingy room, possessing of a simple beauty. A gravity rested on her hooves that betrayed an otherwise undetectable severity. She didn't walk or trot gaily; She strode with assurance, as though her steps were limited and her time invaluable. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said quietly, looking to the ink on the diary pages. With her head and horn up high she stopped just before Twilight's host, a little flutter of excitement on her lips. "It's time. She awaits our presence.”

"Allow me a minute."

It was the same voice she'd had in orphanage, but harder, ragged around the edges. Still smooth, but only by way of a long, slow, steady grinding of the soul. Her world turned towards a rusty bucket standing alone in a corner. A ladle floated to her side wrapped in an airy green light. She dipped it into the bucket on the floor. Her body clenched, and before Twilight could find words of protest frigid water splashed on her face and seeped between the fibers of a rough tunic. Her inky hoof descended and gave her another round of teeth-grating shivers, a horrid cold that never abated as she scoured the ink from her hoof. She turned back to her guest and shook herself awake, blinking the sleep from her eyes ferverously. "You don't think she'll mind my state?"

"She never has nor will," the mare replied. "Her Grace—May she be blessed!—has but two eyes for scrutiny. They will not be on us, but our guests."

"I hope you're right."

The golden mare spread a hoof to the door. “Come. We mustn’t keep her waiting.”

She stepped to the mare's side with the ease of a long-time friend, though her eyes remained on the little study behind her. The nearby windows rattled terribly in the wind. A lonely bowl of soup steamed silently beside it, steam emanating pitifully from its surface. And there in the corner, just above her washbucket, an icicle sat firmly rooted in the stone ceiling’s decaying mortar. Cozy, but sparse. Little more than a shell. Twilight looked them over sadly, then allowed herself to be pulled from the room. She felt her magic seal the door closed. Then, with the other mare beside her, she stepped into the hallway and down a lengthy corridor.

Her eyes never left the ground, for the only promise this empty castle had was one of heartache. The walls were wreathed in a sadness no tattered, water-soaked tapestry could fully denote. Their prideful emblems had long been washed away, and their ruffling in the icy drafts belied the delicate and brittle nature of the walls they hid from view. Her hooves clopped dully on mere cobbled stone, not the grand marble from home. This wasn't Canterlot, nor could it have been; The pride of the Royal Guard was lost on these soldiers frozen to their places. Their eyes shone not with an honored twinkle, but with resignation, knowing this carcass of a castle was one they could never rightly leave. Twilight, deep down, could feel her own self pity them. But soon, the sensation of her host overpowered her own feelings, leaving both them and her to suffer their fates.

They passed up the slippery steps of a spiral staircase and into the daylight. It was all but warm, for the snow and driving wind had sapped its heat away. They passed by the castle maids in their shabby, snow-drenched rags. Her cheeks flushed as she felt their eyes linger on her clean tunic. How she longed to be free of it, if only to blend in. Better that I should suffer than they. Poor souls...

She shook her head to find her escort yards ahead of her, marching proudly to the far end of a long stone hall. Her eyes were set on a massive oak door and the crowd of peasants clamoring for attention. A row of soldiers stamped their spears and created a path through the throng. Twilight followed her escort through the crowd, feeling her pride wither with every step.

They broke through the murmuring crowd and into what had once been a lavish throne room. A stained glass window loomed on the far side of a long hall. On it, the figure of a silver stallion braced himself behind a grand golden tower shield buffeted by whirling fire, his sword held firmly at the ready. Across from him, the figure of an obsidian dragon with a kaleidoscope of rubies for eyes. They loomed over the heads of a passel of filthy Earth ponies huddled together in a tight group. For warmth or security, she couldn’t know for sure. Across the carpet aisle, a glowering well-to-do unicorn in well-hemmed robes stood flanked by his attendants. Despite his rage, he stood patient in the shadow of a faded-lilac mare sealed comfortably on a rough oaken throne.

Twilight and her host looked up and lost their breath.

Princess Platinum, wrapped in a down-frilled crimson robe, was the very essence of power: stern, but patient; loving, yet demanding. Sitting square on her cushion, her luscious purple hair had faded since Twilight had last seen it, shining with ribbons of silver down her wrinkled neckline. The youth and vigor from the orphanage still shone beneath folds of sagging skin. There was a fire in her still, a hold on the heart that coddled and crushed the very spirit of whomsoever had the honor of heralding her presence. She was perfection in all its beautiful—and terrible—forms. In her own homely state Twilight couldn’t help but feel ashamed, but all that timidity blew itself aside as she mounted the steps and took her place on Platinum’s right. She shot her a smile, which was returned in earnest.

“How farest thou, love?”

“Well enough, Your Grace.”

An unbearable wave of love poured through her heart as they shared what felt like a greeting without end. She’s perfect, Twilight thought, closing her eyes with a smile. Absolutely perfect.

Twilight opened her eyes to find Princess Platinum sweeping a hoof towards the golden mare on her other side. The mare stepped forward and bowed. “May I present to you Pretty Penny,” Platinum said calmly, “a secretary of the Golden Bank and a student of financial jurisprudence.” She stopped, then presented Twilight's host with a smile. “And Clover, my personal advisor.”

All at once, the world became a little clearer. Finally, validation! Twilight’s heart soared to the rafters as her hooves—Clover’s hooves!—remained in their place. Her inner thoughts broke free and screamed her excitement, a cascade of happiness to cast away the cold.

It’s her! It’s actually her!

Whatever timidity remained dissolved as Twilight allowed herself to melt into her new-found body, allowed her senses and her thoughts and her hopes to become one with Clover’s. There was no reason for trepidation! In Clover, nothing could go wrong! Soon she was no longer herself, but Clover, standing above the heads of the crowd below with all the confidence she could ever need.

She spoke, and the memory became reality.

“I’m happy to be of service.”

“I believe we’ve surpassed the need for your help, or for lawyers,” the business pony said. She could hear the bits in the pockets of his robes rattle together from here. “They’ve clearly broken both common and financial law!”

“You will speak when addressed,” Princess Platinum said. He caught his tongue, swallowing his pride with a grimace. Platinum turned to Twilight’s escort and nodded. “Begin, Miss Penny.”

The golden mare took a step forward and bowed. “At milady’s behest, I will hear your claim. What is your concern, and how might I be of service?”

The unicorn businesspony brandished a hoof at the group of ponies huddled across the carpet. “These filthy thieves have reneged on their contracts to me, and I demand compensation! I am the owner of a large estate, with many a field from which my family derives our wealth. We're merchants, selling only the finest vegetables to towns far and wide... or were, before the Long Winter began. I hired these poor, sickly Earth ponies to work my many fields, giving them a place to live and food from my very own larders. They work my fields and grow my crops, and I pay for their work and living expenses. ‘Tis as iron-clad an agreement as any ‘twixt employer and employee... but they’ve sullied their bond. They’ve given away portions of what little crops I have—crops to which they have no legal claim—to their fellow scum!” He spat at the ground. “I demand compensation plus interest, I demand these ponies be evicted at once, and I demand they pay for their crimes against me and mine ten-fold!”

Penny looked to Clover with a sad look in her eyes. Clover nodded, grimacing. “According to Penny, what you say is just in the eyes of the law... but what of decency? See you not their state or the raging winds outside? It sounds to me as though they’ve done nothing but try to aid others in times of strife!”

“With my wares! They’ve been handing out food—my food—in exchange for clothes and necessities, things of which I have given them ample supply!”

“That ain’t true!” An aging Earth pony jolted forward, though as he stood there heaving it was clear the action had drained him completely. His clothes were patched and haggard, and his voice sounded almost rusty. It was no stretch of the imagination to think his tools would be equally corroded. “He ain’t done nothin’ but let us die in the cold! We use all our shares to stay alive, somethin’ he’s supposed to do by law!”

"The law will absolve me of caring for you slime,” the business pony snapped. "You're just lucky I haven't thrown you filth into the snow where you belong!”

Clover stomped her hoof. “Quiet, please! When you’re in a princess’s company you will be civil, or you will be silenced!”

Platinum patted her on the hoof. “Thank you, dear.” She rose her head towards the farmers' leader. “Approach me, sir, and speak your name clearly.”

The farmer ripped his hat from his head like a guilty colt, holding it to his heart for dear life. “Furrow, Your Grace! These here are my kin: my wife and sister, my nephews and my... my little ones. We're but one of the many families sufferin' because of him."

“I bid you welcome to my hall. I hope you find it warm.” She gestured him closer. “Speak your woes, and speak them clearly. It seems the brashness of my youth is catching up with me.”

A few of the Earth ponies smiled, which only made their aging leader more confident. “We’re simple farmers,” he said, “trying our hardest to eke out a living. We came under his employ just as my oldest was born, and he was fair to us for a time... but then the blizzards got worse. Many died. Far too many. And the children, they... they never..." He steadied himself, his crying eyes on his family. "But we remained,” he continued shakily, “and we pulled short the slack left behind by the others. We gave, and gave, and gave, but nothing changed. Now, we’re givin' everythin' we’ve got just to do right by our families and this pony here, but still we struggle. We ain’t like you, ma’am. We ain’t got a big castle nor magic fires to heat our gruel. Our work is tiresome, and this Long Winter has been long indeed. Y’all don’t know sufferin’, but we—”

“All have suffered, sir, even we unicorns. Our losses are comparable to the misery of your own, and our work equally so! If you continue to belittle our own woes, you will find deaf ears and locked doors!”

“I meant nothin’ by it, Your Grace!”

“Then speak candidly, or leave my hall!”

He gulped down some air, shivering horribly. “We... we ain’t lookin’ for trouble, ma’am! Only that which we’re all due: fair payment for our work and the necessities as promised in our contracts.”

“Elaborate on that, if you could,” Penny said to the business pony. “By what conditions are they to be treated?”

“Same as any worker on my estate,” the unicorn replied. “Free board in my warehouses, ten percent of the yield for food, and wages equivalent to ten percent of the yield paid in bits as compensation for their services.”

“Leaving you eighty percent of the yield to do with as you wish... Why, then, have you brought them to trial? Have you not enough?”

“They’ve been stealing from those shares they don’t have right to and giving it freely to their kind!”

“Is this true,” Clover said, looking down at the Earth pony leader. “Have you been stealing from your employer and giving to others?”

Furrow froze, looking to his family in terror. “We... we ain’t been doin’ nothin’ wrong,” he stammered. “We’ve got families, miss! Ponies needin’ food and clothin’! Ponies sufferin’ because this pony here ain’t payin’ us his due!”

“There hasn’t been anything worth paying them for! They’ve done nothing in my fields, so why should I pay them to steal from me?”

“You agreed to pay us for our work, and we’ve been workin’ harder than ever! But this blizzard... There ain’t been nothin’ we can do to stop it!”

“I don’t pay you for excuses,” the business pony exclaimed. “I pay you to make food, and if you can’t make anything grow then you won’t reap the benefits of your work. Our agreement was for twenty percent of the yield, not twenty percent of the effort! You don’t work? You don’t get paid for it. Fair is fair, Your Grace, and what they’ve been doing is unfair to me and mine!”

Clover locked eyes with the Earth pony leader. “Why have you brought this matter to us? Why not your chancellor?”

“Chancellor Puddin’head ain’t able to aid us,” Furrow said, his lip trembling. “Not with the crops they way they are. Thousands are in situations just like ours: indentured to the same cruel employers, livin' in the same squalor. His ears have grown tired of our pleas! Understand our plight, miss, and take pity on us! You’ve been the only ones who’ve given us so much as a second glance!"

Her heart wrenched as she watched him struggle to contain his tears. “Have you entreated the pegasi for aid? These blizzards are theirs to wrangle, correct? Have they nothing in their heart to give you?”

A tear flashed down his cheek. “They never even looked down from their clouds at us! Please, miss! We’ve given all we have to give and more to this pony, but he’s bleedin’ us dry! My wife and babies are starvin', just as the others' are! We've lost so many already, and now everything we have is bein’ taken away! What he’s doin’ ain’t fair!”

Clover lowered her eyes to the ground. “I only wish we had more to give you, sir. But with things as they are, I don’t see much we can do. The law has been broken, and by your own admission you’re responsible. Whatever you’ve given out to others, you must replenish to your employer.”

“Hold on,” Penny said, catching Clover’s attention. There was something in her eyes that screamed something was amiss. She turned to the business pony. “As part of your agreement, you're responsible for their housing, correct?”

“I am,” he said plainly. “They’ve had full run of my warehouses and barns for themselves and their families. They don’t, however, have the right to give housing to those not under my employ, and certainly not my food. They’ve broken both of these stipulations.”

“That’s true, they’re not allowed to do such a thing. But tell me, what facilities exist in these barns? Have they a washroom? Places to store their clothing? A hearth in which to cook themselves hot meals?”

He looked frazzled. “A hearth? Graces, no! A fireplace in a hay barn? I might as well set it alight myself and spare myself the waiting! That’s a disaster waiting to happen!”

“Where, then, might they find a fire with which to cook?”

“My estate. They’re given full access to my kitchens to make meals as they please. When I suspected they were stealing my food, I revoked that privilege.”

“There!” Clover stamped her hoof, turning to Penny. She had a similar light in her eyes. We’re on to something! “Access to basic necessities is your responsibility, and in revoking it before having evidence of their guilt you’ve broken the bonds of your contract as well. Penny?”

“‘Tis true,” Penny replied. “As stipulated in our laws, all employers with live-in help must care for their workers’ basic needs, namely food, clothing, shelter, and compensation. In revoking their access to your kitchens without evidence, you’ve denied them proper facilities to eat, thereby breaching your contract.”

“Preposterous! How am I the one to be punished when they breached our bond first? In giving out my wares, they’ve openly and maliciously sought to do me harm!”

"You acted before you had proof and revoked a condition of your agreement without due cause!” It was difficult to contain her excitement, especially when she caught Furrow’s crying eyes and gave him a hopeful smile. “Besides, there's nothing malicious about trying to stay alive, especially when one has a family!”

"Theft is the epitome of malice! To place my life in peril for selfish gain? They've openly sought to ruin me, and for that I'll not give them an inch!"

Clover shook her head furiously. “They’d never have been in that spot had you not addressed their needs from the onset!”

“I’ve done more for these rats than their own chancellor has! Do not impugn my generosity! Besides, they’re Earth ponies! You have an obligation to do right by your own kind, not theirs!”

“But they’re ponies too!”

“They’re not worth the mud I scrape off my hoof!”

“Silence!”

The room fell quiet. Princess Platinum rose from her place with all the cold fury of the blizzard raging beyond the windows. She took a few steps down from her pedestal and stood before the two groups, eying them both furiously. Clover shivered; The look in her eyes as she stared down the business pony was the same merciless fire she’d had for the Headmaster, so long ago. “I’ve heard enough. Your avarice has spoken of your worth, and I’ve found it lacking. You are of an order most cruel, especially in these trying times... but the law cannot be superseded.” Her eyes flashed to Furrow. “Tell me true, for I’ll know if you’re lying: is what your employer stated true? Did you give his wares and his housing to others of your kind in exchange for necessities?”

Furrow didn’t make a sound, but his silence spoke volumes. Slowly his head fell, weighed down with guilt and tears. “Indeed, Your Grace... but we had no choice! We’ve suffered beyond sufferin’ itself! Please, show us mercy! Find it in your heart to forgive us our trespasses!”

“We shall,” Clover said, stepping to the fore. “But you must be punished nonetheless. You have committed a crime, and you must pay the penalty. Your sentence, though it pains me to do so, will be to remain in the care of your employer.”

“Your Grace!” The business pony leapt forward to the jangling of coins. “That’s unfair! They’ve stolen enough from me! To care for them a second longer is something I shall not do!”

“But you will,” Clover declared. “Both parties have broken their bonds, so both must be punished and recompensated in equal stride. For your greediness, you shall be forced to grant them housing freely, and not in your warehouses. Each family shall have a room in your so-called estate, and free access to your kitchens, your baths, and your hearths. You shall care for them as you should have from the beginning: with the dignity and respect that every pony is due.” She turned towards the Earth ponies, smiling sadly. “But only so long as it takes for you and the other families to farm and bring forth crops to give back what you’ve taken two-fold. You will not be paid for your work, and you will not be allowed to leave until you’ve done so. When every vegetable you’ve given away has been returned to your employer, you will leave his estate in goodwill and seek new employment elsewhere.”

Clover let her words linger, looking to Princess Platinum to find her beaming proudly. “So it shall be,” Platinum said, giving Clover a wink. “By my own voice and by the voice of honest counsel, I decree that these are the sentences. You shall fulfill them, both to me and to each other, in the knowledge that I shall be watching you both for full compliance. You can expect an agent of mine to see to it by week’s-end.” She clopped her hoof on the hard floor below, issuing her decree to a peal of steel and stone. “This is my justice. I appreciate your attendance on this matter. We’re adjourned.”

No one looked exceptionally pleased, but not a word of defiance was dared uttered. In silence they bowed—the Earth ponies lower than their employer—and then trooped out from the throne room in a line. The business pony gathered his assistants close, shot Clover a vicious stare, then swept his cloak about himself and strode from the hall with a haughty snort. When all had left, the soldiers flanking the doorway sealed the door closed. The second the latch clicked home, Platinum collapsed in her throne. “Damn them both! Know they not to trifle an old mare with petty grievances?”

“You’re not just any mare,” Clover said lovingly, dabbing the sweat from her princess’s brow with a kerchief. “You’re their princess, and they love you dearly.”

“They certainly know not how to show it,” Penny said. A pitcher and three glasses popped to life beside her, pouring out a rich red wine. She offered one to Platinum, who drained it in a flash. The others drifted to her side and Clover’s, perched in their respective magics.

Princess Platinum rallied her strength with a few deep breaths before turning to Clover. “A sound judgment, my dear, and swiftly done. Any longer and these stones would’ve frozen us solid.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Clover replied quietly. “But I wish it didn't have to come to that. Those farmers looked as though just one more cold night might be the end of them."

"The law's what matters," Penny countered, "and by all accounts your verdict was in the right. The punishment was fair, but I'd contest the fact that they should share it equally."

"For what reason?"

Penny gave a little scoff and fiddled with her glass. "Another unicorn’s been cheated of their hard work because of those dirt-diggers. Granted, he was wrong to punish them without cause... but didn't you see them, Clover? They dragged in half their field with them! How can we trust them with anything if we can't trust them to bathe before addressing Her Grace? A clean body is a clean mind, after all. Leave it to an Earth pony to be ignorant of that fact."

Clover drowned her disgust in wine and said nothing. Soon, the hall returned to its normal state: cold and drafty, with all its flaking golden trimmings wreathed in frost. Clover tucked her princess’s cloak about her tightly, which earned her a smile and a pat on the hoof. Penny stood alone, sipping her glass with a shiver before breaking the silence: “It has been something of a tempest lately, hasn’t it? Theft or no, nopony deserves to be so miserable. Not even an Earth pony.”

“Indeed,” Platinum replied, looking up. “‘Tis this castle, I believe. ‘Twas never my dear father’s intent that it should stand to see these days.” She breathed a defeated sigh and looked to her father’s image looming overhead. “His heart would break, to see us now: his empire in ruins, our wealth spent on firewood.” She raised her glass. “May his rest be warm!” She dropped her voice low, so low only Clover could possibly hear her: “May I join him soon...”

“Agreed,” Penny added, raising her goblet. She hadn’t heard her princess’s whisper, much to Clover’s relief. Her eyes were on the stained glass window overhead, full of wonder and warmth. “He was a great stallion, to return to us such a gift!”

Platinum gave a wistful sigh. “It would be a gift to be in his presence once more. But Fate is cruel, and not without a sense of humor; That great beast’s last breath brought this country together, and now we whittle ourselves away for the return of his fire.”

Clover drew closer, adding her body heat to her princess’s. “The summer sun will kiss these walls again, Your Grace, just as I promised it would.”

“Remember you still your promise?” Platinum gave a hearty chuckle at that. “A filly’s hope, and a younger me’s indulgence to her! Think you still on it?”

“Every moment! I swore I would make it come back, and I meant it!”

“Your dreams are enough warmth for my old bones, my love! It warms me so, to see your heart is in it!” Her eyes flickered with excitement. “Perhaps, before I perish, we’ll enjoy a summer sunset from a balcony of New Palladia!”

Penny started, utterly astonished. “You mean to finish it, Your Grace?”

“Aye, my dear. My father didn’t skewer that lizard to see his trophy neglected! He didn’t die in that mountain's shadow to have his vision buried alongside him! His castle—my castle!—was to be the envy of the world! I shan’t join him in his slumber until I see it done myself!”

Penny didn’t seem to know what to say, but only at first. “We... we haven’t the money to complete such a task! The Golden Bank is hemorrhaging bits, Your Grace!”

“In what way?”

Penny took another sip of wine to steady herself. “Your latest trade envoys to the Earth ponies and the Pegasi were unsuccessful, Your Grace. I’ve only just received the reports."

"Unsuccessful? Know they not our banners? A royal envoy is never to be turned aside!"

"Unfortunately, Your Grace, they were. The Chancellor was unavailable to welcome our emissaries."

"You mean 'unwilling', don't you? As to be expected. That corpulent oaf can't be moved to lift a hoof for royalty, if he can be moved at all!" Platinum chuckled at her joke, then turned back to Penny. "What of the self-appointed Commander?"

"No word," Penny replied. "Furrow was right about that, at least. They never even acknowledged your banners, let alone acquiesce to them."

"That little...” She shook her head. “Were I his mother—and believe me, I thank the Fates with every breath that I'm not—I'd give him a paddling more worthy of his name than he is!" She threw up her hooves, looking to the ceiling far above. "Am I alone the one voice of reason in this world?" She let her hooves fall, sighed, and looked to Penny. "What more, dear? What other news have you to trouble me with?"

Penny stood stock-still, terror holding her tight. "It cost more to send them off than they garnered in trade, and that’s not counting the loss of life along the way.”

“Blizzards?”

She shook her head. “Quite the opposite, milady...”

Clover let out a gasp. “You can’t be serious...”

“I am,” Penny mumbled. “Half of them returned half-scorched, and the other half didn’t return at all.”

Princess Platinum nodded her head quietly, somberly, lost in thought. “They’ve awoken, have they?”

“Indeed, Your Grace. The dragons haven’t threatened war, but they’re certainly agitated. Any further encroachments on their lands would be ill-advised.”

“Greedy snakes!” Her goblet rocketed through the hall and clattered to the ground, masking all but her fuming as she rose shakily to her hooves. “My father should’ve slain them all when he had the chance, just as he did Furoros! I would see our coffers filled to the brim with their stolen spoils, and the treasury walls draped in their very hides! I would... I would have them all...” She fell back to her cushion with a plop, reaching for Clover’s goblet with an undeniable desperation. Clover obliged, holding her goblet to Platinum’s lips until she’d had her fill. Platinum swallowed a mouthful, snapped her lips, and let all the air come rushing from her lungs in a deep sigh. “I would have them all slain, I would...”

“Enough,” Clover interjected, tucking her into her cloak. “Calm thyself, milady! Now is not the time for anger! ‘Tis a time for rationality, and none can be found in such talk!”

“You’re right, my love. Forgive me...” She rose slowly back to her seat, eyeing Penny with a heavy heart. “And you, dissuade your princess not! The castle stands, and I beside it, with or without those fools! Trouble me not with more talk of it! It only pains me to think on it.”

“She meant not to offend,” Clover said softly. “She worries for us, as I do. Any idea to save us is one worth listening to, no?”

"Any? Will anything suffice for us now?” She rose to her hooves once more, pushing aside Clover’s hoof with a stubborn, vigorous energy. Slowly she stood, proud and defined, her father’s heir in body and spirit. “There was a time not too long before yours when we took pride in our work, when we rescued a nation from the brink of despair and brought about days of wealth and prosperity! There was once a day when these walls were draped in gold, when songs of valor rang from the rafters and made our hearts soar! There was a time when honesty and strength prevailed! When beauty and grandeur were common to all! When our borders were defended and our citizens safe! But those days are gone, squandered bit by bit and luxury by luxury, with every fruitless donation and futile supplication. To allow it free trespass any longer? To pass it over for Earth pony squalor or pegasi greed? For dragon’s fire or a blizzard’s chill?! Bah! A fool's thought, and a traitor's practice! I would rather die than see us wallow in pity! I would have us reunite, take back what’s ours, and let civility usher in a new dawn!”

A few defiant breaths left her powerless, and with a hearty sigh she fell back into her cushion, panting heavily. Penny stood stock-still as Clover rushed to Platinum’s side. Another dose of wine helped Platinum wrangle her breathing enough for Clover to be satisfied. “What has possessed you, Your Grace? What ailment vexes you so, to make you say such things?”

Princess Platinum said nothing at first. Then, with a defeated grumble, her guard dropped. “It’s the damn Seven, child. When has it ever not been because of them that I worry so? Every night I wish I had my father’s patience for them, but every time Lord Portentous opens his mouth I find reason to find myself cheated.”

Clover rolled her eyes. “What has he said now?”

“Only that which we’ve heard innumerable times: that my actions have been substandard in light of this storm; that the citizenry’s best interests are in his heart; and that only the Council of Seven, in all their ‘wisdom’, should be allowed to shape laws as it was before my father. The only thing that worm can truly conjure is empty lies! If I hear another false accusation against either my father’s character or my own escape his lips, I swear I’ll rip that silly cape from his hide and choke him with it!”

A little part of Clover couldn’t help but smile at that. “You would find yourself cheated all the more, princess, without the satisfaction of watching him fail of his own ambition.”

A little glimmer shone somewhere deep in Platinum's eyes. She adjusted herself in her throne, a devilish smile growing on her wrinkled lips. “Such a clever girl you are, for saying thus. Know you why I’ve asked you here, love? Why I have ripped you from your chambers to enjoy my company?”

Clover didn’t know, for if not the ruling just exacted there was little else to denote another motive. Penny, too, seemed confused, but as the pointed silence grew her eyes lit up. The memory of Penny’s rumor returned. It’s actually happening, Clover thought, just as Penny said it would! She stilled her rushing heart with a shake of her head. Answer honestly. ‘Tis what any High Consul would do.

“I can’t be sure, Your Grace.”

Princess Platinum turned to look at Penny. “Have you an idea?”

Penny bowed. “I can only speculate, but if my suspicions are correct: there’s an important appointment you wish to make.”

“Quite right! Quite right...” Slowly Princess Platinum rose from her seat, eschewing Clover’s guiding hoof in favor of her own. Once she was stable, she paced slowly around the throne and down the dais steps. Clover and Penny followed close behind, looking at each other with an unbearable excitement.

Her rumor is proving true!

Princess Platinum lumbered slowly for the padded seat at the head of a long wooden table below her father's glass image, plopping herself down with a sigh. Penny drifted her decanter and her goblet to her side, waiting until she’d poured her princess another glass before taking a seat beside her. “What is the nature of your appointment, milady?”

“One long overdue,” Platinum replied, ushering them to their seats. They flanked her and held their goblets carefully, lest their excitement threaten to spill them. “I have been in consideration over this for many a night, running it over in my head for a flaw... but once I saw you, I found my worries fleeting and my trepidation dashed. Your opinion of our High Magister only sealed my decision. I know it is the proper course.”

“What is?”

Princess Platinum drifted her goblet to her lips, took a sip, then replaced it on the table with a twinkle in her eyes. She looked to Clover with all the love in the world. “Tell me, my dearest, what you know of the Council.”

“The Council?” Clover looked to Penny, then back to Princess Platinum. “The Council of Seven is the well from which every ruler of the Gilded Lands draws clear guidance.”

“‘Tis hogwash,” Platinum blurted. “They’re a blight, dear girl, and you know it. Tell me not what I want to hear, but the truth, just as you have these many years. What do you know of them?”

Clover gulped down some air. Not a great start. “Long have their words been in service to the crown. Before your father and his father before him, they served as the voices of the Seven Keeps, each in service to its own ruler yet in deference to the king or queen most qualified to rule. Your father—May his rest be warm!—united them and their associated kings during the war against Furoros. They have since been advisors to your bloodline—”

“A bloodline that ends with me. The shortest dynasty that ever was, hmm? Such is the pity of a princess married solely to her nation: I am to drown in the promise of an heirless death.”

“Say not such things, milady! You have many a year in you yet! Spend not a second on such thoughts, they’ll only drive you mad!”

“What drives me mad is that bloody council. My father knew them all too well, well enough to ignore them in favor of what was right. He suffered, yes, but his suffering brought about true greatness.” She drew her eyes and her goblet to the figure of the stallion bravely looming overhead. “I can only hope to understand your decisions ere too long, father.”

“You are as wise and as just a monarch as he,” Penny stated plainly, “and far more beauteous.”

Princess Platinum, with an eyebrow mischievously cocked, patted Penny on the hoof and gave her a sly smile. “Flattery, eh? Delightful! You’ve a shrewd mind for tricks, my dear. You’ll prove useful yet!”

“Of what use might I be?”

“Of the kind most imperative!” She gestured them closer. “Long have the stations of the Seven been in service to the many leaders of this great empire. It was only until my father united us under one banner that their voices, no longer in seven parts, sounded in one great harmonious clamor. They were essential at first, but time and tide has given their motives to rot and their ambitions to themselves. Most no longer seek to aide, but to secure for themselves a portion of our great legacy. Be it wealth or knowledge, they seek to steal rather than supply. They know the hourglass is running out. It was they who set it in motion.” She looked to the windows. “Whatever devil my father awakened when he speared that great lizard haunts us still. If today’s ruling was any sign, the power we have over this storm is dwindling. We won’t last the year. I feel it in my bones.”

“I thought the Council had enough magic to stave off the coming storms!”

“In times long gone, yes... but no longer. The age when the Seven held the world in their magic is gone, given up for greed and selfishness. I have done what I can to control them, but I cannot split myself in seven. I need eyes, and the words to turn those eyes to our common plight.” She turned to Clover. “That is why I’ve called you here, love. I have a task for you, one which will reinvigorate the Seven and bring about the summer we’ve always wished for.”

Clover perked her ears, but as she stared into her princess’s eyes she found something wholly unexpected: sadness. There was an emptiness there, a longing to remain closeby even though they were but inches apart. Protest though she might, the decision had already been made, and a mind as tough as hers was not to be swayed so easily. Clover felt a cold lump rise in her throat. “You... You want me to leave you?”

“Only for a time. You must be in service to another until such time as I require you again.”

Penny looked to her friend, then down to her hooves. Clover caught her tongue, took a deep breath, and shook her head. “I... I can’t, milady! I want to remain here with you!”

“What you want is not what this nation needs, love.”

“But what about what you need? Long have I been your eyes and ears, giving to you only my honest guidance. We’ve suffered much this Long Winter, but I’ve never once steered you wrong, not since the day you found me! Why now? What have I done, to make you punish me so?”

Princess Platinum rose from her place, and as she did whatever warmth lingered around the table drew itself to the far corners of the hall. Her eyes flashed to Penny. “Leave us, dear. Await our guests by the door. I’ll call you when Miss Clover and I have finished.”

Penny did as she was told. She spared one last glance at Clover, then trotted off to the far end of the hall to exact her princess’s command. Clover remained in her place, shivering horribly. “I didn’t mean to offend, Your Grace...”

“You haven’t. Never once have I needed to correct you on your courtesies to me, but I will remind you that I am not to be disobeyed, least of all by my own advisor, and especially in public. Do I make myself clear?”

Clover nodded quickly. “Yes, ma’am...”

“Very well.” Seconds passed in silence before Princess Platinum was able to release her weariness with a sigh. “Long have we been together, you and I. Since the very day I found you, not a day has passed that hasn't seen you right there at my side.” Her hoof brushed Clover’s cheek, resting there with the softness of silk. “Have I ever given you reason not to love me, Clover dear?”

Clover held her hoof closer. “Never, milady. I just don’t want to leave you!”

“This castle isn’t so very big, my love. I’ll always be closeby.”

“It’s not that...” Clover could feel the ridges of Platinum’s wrinkled skin beneath her own supple hoof. “I... I fear for your health, milady. I have always been there to care for your ills, but—”

“But nothing,” Platinum said, shaking her head. “If I can care for my father’s lands, I can care for myself. Worry about me not.”

Clover nodded, reassured, but still the tears came freely. “I... I would never forgive myself if you came to harm!”

Princess Platinum thought a moment, then gave her Clover a little nuzzle. “Then worry not. I know how you might aid me and exact my will as well.”

Clover finally relaxed. They rested together a moment before Platinum gave her a little kiss on the nose. “I couldn’t love you more even if you were of my own flesh and blood. Know this always.”

“I do, milady. I do.”

“Good.” She gave her one last pat on the cheek before resting back in her seat. “Hate me not for what I must do. Know that I send you not from my side because I want to, but because I must. There is a task to which you must attend, one that requires your brilliant mind and your dedication. It is one I will entrust to Penny as well, when I call her here. For all the love you have for me, do as I say. All will become clear ere long.”

Clover brushed away a tear and nodded her agreement. They shared a loving smile. Then, with a last little wink, Princess Platinum turned towards Penny and waved her closer. “Come hither, child, and quickly! Our guests will arrive at any moment!”

Penny trotted back to her place, looking at Clover and the wetness of her cheek curiously. Clover waved her concern aside, turning to Princess Platinum with a grin. “What would you have us do, milady?”

“This council has long been winding itself on a course for ruin. It is dying, slowly but surely, and its death threatens to bring this nation down with it. I refuse to let that happen. Instead of prolonging the inevitable, I have called you here to charge you with a singular goal.”

Penny looked to her curiously. “What would you ask of us?”

“I would ask you to help kill the Council of Seven.”

Penny and Clover reeled with shock. “Murder, milady?!”

“Nothing of the sort!” She looked to them both, saw the fear in their eyes, and let out a rich peal of laughter. “Though I hate the Council, that is too quick and painless a sentence! I seek instead to let it die of its own actions. You shall act as the rudder that steers it to its fate, and the sails to bring it about with all haste.”

“I don’t understand,” Penny whispered. “You want Clover and I to bring down the Council?”

“It has brought itself to its own ruin. I seek merely to have replacements ready when it falls.”

Breathlessly Clover and Penny looked to one another. “We... We’re to be on the Council?”

“In due time. First, you must be my hoof and will in a place where neither are respected. You are not alone in this mission. You will have aid of a kind most invaluable.”

“What aid, milady?”

Platinum said nothing, for another sound answered in her stead: a knocking, one which prefaced the creaking of the throne room door and the glittering of multi-colored magics. Two unicorns stepped through the threshold, looking first to the throne and then to the place where Platinum sat waving them closer. Clover and Penny watched them with awe.

She can’t be serious...

“I’m sure you know their names,” Platinum began calmly. “But if not, allow me the honor of acquainting you with your new tutors.” She ushered a short, portly gentlecolt with a far-too-tight vest to the seat beside Penny. “Miss Penny, may I introduce to you Lord Prospero, President of the Golden Bank and High Chancellor of the Exchequer.”

Penny’s eyes went blank. “My lord! I... I haven’t... You’re—”

“Take a breath, my dear,” he said lovingly, taking her hoof in his. He planted a sloppy kiss on it, staring into her eyes as though they’d been apart for many lifetimes. “The honor is all mine, truly! I’ve heard stories of your wit and wisdom, but none of your beauty!” He held her hoof tightly, his cheeks rose-red. “I feel we’ll get along immensely! Don’t you agree?”

His words were like honey, but the grip he had on Penny’s hoof was unpleasantly sticky. Though he spoke well, Clover couldn’t help but feel a bit disgusted. He doesn’t act this way with every mare, does he?

“My lord, ‘tis an honor!” Penny said, shaking his hoof furiously. “I’ve been a secretary of the bank for many years, but I never once imagined I might meet you!”

“Then rejoice, for I have come!” Giggling cheerily, he summoned a rich golden goblet from thin air to partake in the wine close-at-hoof. “A toast: to a long, happy relationship with my new partner-in-crime!”

“Keep your voice down.”

Clover turned to the source of the noise and jumped as her eyes fell on a pure snow-white mare standing behind her. She was as silent as a ghost, and nearly as pale, but the way she spoke betrayed a wisdom beyond words. Tired crimson eyes panned slowly over the table, weighed down with what felt like years beyond measure. Though she listened intently, Clover didn’t hear a sound as the towering mare slid into the seat beside her. “My name is Lady Prudentia,” the mare said, her voice a whisper. “I am honored to finally meet you. Our princess has spoken highly of you.”

“She hasn’t spoken of you at all,” Clover blurted. A wave of regret washed her over. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be so rude! It’s just... I... I don’t know who you are.”

“This is my Grand Archivist,” Platinum stated. “She’s responsible for our empire’s historical records. She is also the Headmistress of the Royal Academy. You may never have met her, but she presided over the school while you were a student.”

Clover’s jaw dropped. “You’re the Wisp...”

Her thin lips spread into a tiny smile. “Children are more honest than adults, I’ve found, even in their insults. Though some might take offense, I adore the implication of my condition's moniker, for in my studies I seek to guide our future with deference to our glorious past. We are our history, young one. It is up to us to preserve it.”

“You will be her associate,” Platinum said plainly, “just as you, Penny, will be Lord Prospero’s. They are to be your guides, and you their aides, united in the goal of bringing some stability to the Council.”

Penny leaned forward. “Forgive my boldness, Your Grace, and with all due respect to our guests: how can we bring stability to a council if nearly a third of its members are against it? A table cannot stand on two legs.”

“Well, my dear, I’m glad you brought that up!” Lord Prospero, with many a grunt, rifled through the pockets of his vest and extracted a heavy, ornate golden key. He handed it to Penny with a grin. “Don’t lose this, love.”

“What is this?”

“The Key to the Golden Bank.”

She dropped it as though it had caught fire, scrambling on the floor to recover it lest it fall from memory completely. She held it close to her heart, staring at it as though it were the most beautiful and dangerous thing in the world. “My lord, I... You... You mustn’t give me this! Take it back, please! It’s too much!”

“I shan’t.” He drew close, his bubbly airs turning flat. “This is yours, for in it lies all of us. To you, your Princess Platinum and I have entrusted the literal key to our future. You and your friend have within you everything our nation needs to survive: sound judgment, clear intentions, and honest hearts. I give you this key in the hopes you might give it to another, and they to another, onwards and upwards until the end of time so that our beloved Gilded Lands shine forevermore. Every bit that enters and leaves this nation is now under your surveyance and protection. Look upon it, knowing what you know now, and understand the gravity of what we ask of you.”

The full gamut of reactions flashed through her eyes one-by-one, but after a long while she breathed a sigh of resignation. She quickly pocketed the key and returned to him, nodding more for herself than him. Her hoof never left her pocket. "I... I am deeply humbled that you should choose me for this, milord."

"Thank our lovely princess," he said, toasting Platinum. "It was by her recommendation."

“And it was by her same recommendation that I should give you this.” Lady Prudentia moved in close to Clover and levitated a chain from her pocket. Dangling at its end was a little silver key, well-worn and polished to a shine. She fastened it around her neck, admiring it fondly as it rested over Clover’s quickly-beating heart. “Just as every banker needs his secretary, every teacher needs an assistant, and just as I watched over you in your education, so you shall watch over our next generation in theirs.” She bowed her head slightly. “Congratulations, Deputy Headmistress!”

Clover didn’t know what to say, and as the seconds passed in silence that fact was clear to all. “I know this is a lot to process,” Platinum whispered, gripping Clover’s hoof. “But I have all the confidence in the world that you’ll succeed.”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

“We all have a choice,” Lady Prudentia said quietly. “Every soul that is, was, or will be must decide for themselves the path they take. History has proven it so, and the future will prove it right. Lord Prospero, Princess Platinum, and myself have chosen to give rise to a world free from the chains of inaction. We may die before it’s completed, but we will not be dying quietly."

Platinum nodded her agreement. Lord Prospero muttered a little ‘here here’ under his breath and drained his goblet. Penny had eyes only for Clover, eyes laced with fear and excitement both. Clover looked to the key bumping against her chest, feeling its ridges and the slowly-warming steel. She looked up at Platinum. “Is this truly your will, Your Grace?”

Princess Platinum gave her a wink. “It is, my love.”

“Then your will be done.”

They shared a round of smiles, their intention plain to see, their eyes wreathed in kindness. With a flash of magic several more goblets popped to life. Lord Prospero and his new aide Penny filled them each to their brim, floating them to their intended guests. He raised his goblet to the image of Prince Palladium overhead. “To a new world!”

They rose, lifting their goblets alongside his. Gold and steel clinked together, sealing their oath for the empty chamber to hear: “To a new world!”

They drained their glasses, settled in their seats, and allowed the truth of their mission to sink in. Then, with a sly little smirk, Princess Platinum leaned forward. She gave Clover a smile.

“How shall we begin?”

Words rose in Clover’s throat, but they never came out. Something frigid gripped its talons around her stomach, pushing the blood from her body in a muffled wave. It yanked, and stole her breath away. The throne room slid away from Twilight’s grasp, roaring with sound and fury, frothing with a roaring fire. She reached out, but there would be nothing to slow her down. Before she knew, the world was stripped away, leaving her surrounded once more in the crushing white silence.

She felt her hoof shake...

~~~***~~~

“Milady, wake up!”

Twilight churned in her semi-sleep. Not yet, she thought. Just a few more minutes...

The voice grew louder: “Milady, please wake up!”

She rolled over, opening her eyes slowly to find a worried Compass Rose. There was something in his eyes that woke her up faster than the ice water from her newest memory. “What’s wrong, Rosy?”

“It’s... I don’t... We’re...”

“Calm down,” Twilight said, rising from the wagon. With a little kick she collapsed her miniature tent, allowing the sunlight free entrance into her cozy domain.

Twilight paused.

Sunlight?

“How long have I been out, Rosy?”

“Hours and hours! You were twitching and churning, so we waited and waited but... but you didn't wake! I... I didn’t know what to do!”

“Calm down, Rosy,” she said, holding his shoulders. “Take a deep breath, please! You’re starting to scare me.”

“I’m sorry, but I... I just...” Her order finally hit home. He strangled a breath, held it for a brief moment, then let it come roaring out. He performed the ritual again, but nothing different came of it. He gave it up with a frustrated stamp of his hoof. “You don’t understand, there’s something wrong!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The sun! It shouldn’t be... It’s been so long—”

Twilight pressed a hoof to his lips, silencing him in a swift movement. He ceased to speak, or even to breathe, staring at her in terror. Slowly, she became aware of the world beyond the two of them; of Vanguard, free from the harness, talking in hushed tones with Summer. The latter nodded, looking over at Compass Rose and Twilight before heeding Vanguard's words again. Twilight flicked her eyes over to Penumbra to find her alone, her chains still tight about her hooves, her muzzle fastened, her eyes closed. She sat on her haunches, her back blazing bright red, rocking to and fro in a trance. The muscles bulging from her neck pulsed uncomfortably. She was talking, mumbling, but only to herself. About what Twilight couldn’t be sure. What was clear was the lack of any shadows. Twilight looked up.

The sun hadn’t moved an inch.

“Rosy... What’s going on?”He never got the chance to respond. Vanguard issued a rally bark, cracking the air like a thunderbolt. Before Twilight knew, Summer had rocketed to the wagon and alighted beside her, tearing through its contents with an unspoken desperation. She didn’t seem to acknowledge Twilight. Her eyes were on a different prize. With a dextrous flick she ripped a spear from the wagon’s depths and sent it sailing to the ground. It quivered in the earth, but not nearly as much as Compass Rose. Another rustle, and a quiver of arrows slammed against Rosy’s chest, followed quickly by his bronze-handled bow. Then, with a great grunt, she pulled Vanguard’s halberd from the wagon and chucked it to her commander, who caught it in his magic and rested it on his shoulder. With the blink of eye she was back at her commander’s side, her spear resting in her hooves, her wings at full span, readied for anything.

Twilight jumped from the wagon, running to Vanguard. “Colonel, what’s going on?”

He did little more than heft his halberd to a better angle. Her eyes flicked to Summer, only to find her just as silent as he. She returned to him, advancing. “Colonel, I demand you tell me what’s going on!”

He never responded. His eyes were only for Penumbra.

Twilight turned around. Penumbra sat at her place beside the wagon, her throat still whispering her little mumbled secrets, her eyes wide open. She did nothing but stare, her eyes more red than yellow, the corner of her muzzled mouth stretching into a smile.

He’s coming.

Twilight froze as a voice unknown whispered in her brain. The world went silent. The teeming life of the plains died away, their chirps and clicks smothered in an instant. Penumbra’s smile widened. Her belly roiled as she began to cackle uproariously. She locked eyes with Twilight, held her to her place, laughed and sputtered with glee as her eyes—those limitless, crimson eyes—flashed in the colors of her master.

He’s coming!The voice pounded once more. Twilight found herself shaking uncontrollably. The voice... That was her...

“How...”

She stopped dead. Penumbra howled to the sun with utter joy, her giggling morphing into a scream of triumph. She rose fully, balanced on her hindlegs, screaming praises to the sky. The horizon.

Something.

Slowly, Twilight looked over Penumbra’s shoulder, finding in a cold wave the object of her adoration. Her lungs clenched. The breath in her throat went cold. She could only stare.

The moon...

]Slowly, carefully, a tiny sliver of light broke over the horizon. Twilight fell back, breathless, her eyes following Luna’s moon as it panned slowly into the sky. With every inch gained Penumbra laughed harder, her screams and cries of joy magnified as the world became even more silent. Twilight couldn’t move. She couldn’t breath. This... This isn’t possible...

Before she could comprehend it, she’d rushed to Penumbra, her teeth bared in rage. “What are you doing to her?! What are you doing to Luna?! Tell me, now!!!"

Penumbra only laughed harder, breathlessly exalted, her eyes rolling in their sockets. “He’s come! He’s come! Lord, find your daughter! Make slick the plains with my libations! Come! Gather your crop, and your faithful daughter too! Come! Come! Come!!!"

A punch slammed into her cheek, but Penumbra was undaunted. Another zealous cry broke through her throat: “Come for me, lord! Come for your daughter!”

"You’re not his daughter! You’re nothing! Nothing!!!"

“Milady!”

Soft hooves wrapped around Twilight’s belly and pulled her away. Turning, she found a scared Summer holding her tight. No matter how she struggled to be free, Summer held her close. “She’s torturing her,” Twilight screamed, her voice wet with tears. “She’s torturing Luna, Summer! Let me go! Please, let me go!”

Summer stiffened her trembling lips and held on tighter.

“I demand you let me go, now! She’s killing her, can’t you see?! She’s killing her!!!"

Another peal of laughter broke from Penumbra’s lips. “Your promise came true, lord,” she screamed, the sky her audience. Her words formed a chant, her swaying giving it life: “Bless us with her blood, lord! Bless us with her blood!”

Twilight struggled furiously. Summer only held her tighter. Her pleas became screams: “Please! You can’t let her do this! Let me go! I have to save her! Please!!!”

Summer only cried and shook her head. The moon rose still. From over her shoulder, Twilight watched as Rosy jumped to their side, standing upright, his wings and bow at full draw. Vanguard, too, leaped forward, his halberd’s glimmering point a jewel of death. Summer remained, holding Twilight close, pouring herself into keeping her bucking princess contained. Twilight let out another scream, beating her captor’s hooves with an unbridled savagery. Summer remained, her smile pained, her cheeks wet with tears.

The chanting ceased.

Twilight opened her eyes. Penumbra stood alone, her hooves outstretched to herald the moon. Her eyes were closed with utter bliss, her muzzle flashing in the dull moonlight. Her muscles eased. Twilight looked to the sun.

The world turned as red as blood.

Darkness enshrouded the land. The once-blue sky ran crimson. The bloody plains churned in the whipping wind. There was no sun nor moon, but both. Neither. Only an infinitely dark abyss, a puncture wound in the sky. Summer’s grip eased, but Twilight could fight no longer. There was nothing left within her save fear.

Penumbra let her hooves fall to her sides. Standing still, she turned and gave Twilight a little glare.

He’s come.

This time, the voice hadn’t been Penumbra’s. It had belonged to the Shadow himself, spoken with an unnatural ease. Spoken as though he resided in her brain, whispering his truths for her alone. Twilight rose to her hooves. Vanguard stepped to her side, his halberd held mercilessly before them.

“Your Highness?”

She stiffened her stance, her head raised in defiance, her eyes watching the horizon. Slowly the shimmering mirror of heat slid away as the earth turned cold. The world revealed itself. She looked towards the newly revealed mountains, the shadow of the Dimlight Moor crouched at its feet, the plains glittering below...

The glint of a castle’s spire...

Vanguard held his head lower. “Milady, what would you have us do?”

Twilight took a deep breath. Let the fear come, she thought. Let it come. Her heart thumped madly in her throat. Her mind raced with fleeting horrors. She took another breath. Sombra’s voice screamed once more, resonating in her mind. She let it wash over her, run rampant through her bloodstream, let it permeate into every capillary and every vein.

Let it come.

She looked to the far-away castle—the long-awaited Pyrewood Keep—and the leagues of unconquered savannah between them. The shining husks of wild oats flashed in the sun’s diffuse sanguine light like rubies on a crown, filling the distance like a road to safety. The wind whipped up, but they never moved. They remained in their places, stolid and immovable.

Eyes. Hundreds of eyes.

Twilight turned to Vanguard.

“Run.”

Prologue

~~~~~

Day 17, Month of the Winter Tempest

Year Two of the Second Age.

What have we done?

The Royal Guards are preparing themselves for the hunt. I can see them clamoring to position, tightening their armor, sharpening their spears and swords with sparks that pierce the night. The oil lamps along the wall have all been lit, stealing the shadows away from us. I can see the fire in their eyes from here in the East Tower. They haven't blinked once.

Canterlot is dancing with torchlight as they prepare for our flight. Celestia's love for us spares us from an immediate public execution, but her mercy has only spared us a day.

A day to run from Equestria, never to return.

If even Celestia can abandon forgiveness for madness then something is terribly amiss in Canterlot. Her transformation, her fury... Those were no transient things. She cast our spell, and afterwards snared a piece of her own sun and held it to our faces with eyes full of hate. She turned on us, after everything we did to complete her task! She was a mother to us both, but now?

We are her children no longer, for all our ties of fealty and love, for all our journeys together. We are dead to her, now and forever.

Star-Swirl and I have stumbled on something not meant to be found. The shrieks of stone on metal are evidence that our lives are the price of its uncovering.

Luna doesn't look like my teacher anymore. When Celestia cast the spell on her, it was almost as if her mind's slate was wiped clean of any trace of me, like these last few years as her personal student were forgotten. Her eyes flashed for a moment and then just died, the spark of life snuffed out to leave her in the dark.

Our adventures, our lessons, our midnight chats beneath her moon... All of them, gone.

It's just like losing Mom again, and I can't... I won't... fall apart. I just can't. He needs me to be strong. I know he does.

He keeps looking out the window and into the fires of the braziers along the wall. He hasn't moved since after the demonstration nor said a single word since Celestia's mane turned to fire. He's in his Library. I can tell by his silence. When he emerges, we'll have a plan and a place to go.

Star-Swirl won't forget me like Celestia and Luna have. He has lost a mother in them too, I can see it in his eyes. I can tell he's hurt, though he refuses to show it. I wish he'd let me in someday. I just wish he trusted me enough to tell me how he feels.

I can't keep being the only one feeling this way.

One of the guards by the door barked something, but I've been writing so fast I didn't hear him. Evidently it’s not fast enough. I blinked away the larger trunks and packed us some saddlebags full of food. Star-Swirl was right, you really can feel them floating around out there. I only hope I can recall them when need be. We'll have enough food to survive for a few days. After that, I'm not sure what we'll do.

He'd probably tell me to eat his rations, if it came to that. He would give that up just like he gave up his health for his princesses, his sanity for their project, and his levity with me in pursuit of his assignments. He's tired, physically and mentally. He relies on me more and more each day, now more than ever. It's only right I give my life for him after everything he has done for me.

Hopefully that's enough to make him see.

Our time is up. The guards have begun to get restless. Star-Swirl is crafting a spell to get us out of here as I write this. He has broken through her barriers before, but now her shield is unlike anything I've ever seen. All of Canterlot is encased inside of it, its boundaries rejuvenated by a steady beam of light near the North Wall. If we can't make it through we won't have time to make our escape, and if the guards get to us...

I've seen them lust for blood before. I can only imagine a special kind of lust exists exclusively for pretty little traitor mares with nowhere to run. To be passed around, tasted, and then invaded one last time with a spear through the neck? That is a fate worse than execution. I refuse to watch them watch me die, alone in the dark. I refuse to be their mounted trophy.

They'll find a fight waiting for them should it come to that. I've fought with Discord himself. I can handle them.

This will be my final note in this damnable journal until we're safe. I most certainly don't care about its original intention anymore. Being so-called Elements of Harmony has only led to our exile from our home, and I've begun to think that woe befalls any mortal who holds those corrosive stones. They are gifts only for the Immortal Sisters, and they are like fillies in their jealous withholding of their power. I'd shudder just thinking about what their theft might entail, but I can see it in every burning tongue of flame on the walls, present in every shout from the guards.

I saw it in her burning eyes as she stared at me, an Enemy of the Realm.

I wish I'd never earned the honor of being a Bearer. It has only led to disaster.

Virgil is gone. His cocoon was empty when we came back from Celestia's transformation. I never got the chance to see him fly.

He'll find his way back to me. All butterflies make their way home eventually. I'll find him someday, and then the three of us will be a family again.

I will press on with Star-Swirl and keep hope for our return alive. He'll need my help if we're to understand what happened to Celestia and Luna, how the Elements work, and how we can fix what has happened. He'll need his trusted assistant, now when the world has turned against us.

I have to help him. It's the only way we'll ever come home. It's the only way he'll ever love me.

Until the day comes when we can return to Equestria, I will believe that Star-Swirl can save us.

Until that day comes, I'll stay by his side no matter what.

-Clover the Clever

~~~~~

Chapter Two: Portents and Promises

Chapter Two:

Portents and Promises

—

From here above the world, bathed in the day's last light, there was little reason to believe this summit would ever end. If the resurgence of yelling from within was any clue, hours of fighting and picking over the details of the latest iteration of Luna’s treaty had fallen through. This day had been a complete waste. Twilight gripped the balcony's columns and twisted slowly in place, savoring the dull ache of her spine's realignment with every satisfying pop. Good thing Luna didn't see that.

Twilight grimaced at the thought. Luna had been right, much to her annoyance. It had taken every ounce of strength she’d had to remain strong in the face of worried ponies pleading for aid. The admission of futility in the absence of more wizened leaders only added to the misery. There had been far too many disgruntled ponies to stomach, and the image of Luna's eyes when Twilight had excused herself hadn't helped.

Their shadows lingered and whispered their corrosive taunts, every little “I told you you’d fail” stronger than the last. Twilight could hear her chanting those damnable words to the brink of madness, always with that snide little smirk and those glaring, eternal eyes. “I get it, already,” Twilight said sullenly. “You’ve already won, Luna. No need to rub it in.”

“Looks like you’re doing that all by yourself.”

Her gut clenched at the sound, but as she turned she found only a weary Shining Armor. Despite two days’ straight wakefulness, he held his head up proudly with a heartfelt smile. His eyes shone like a colt's would on Hearth's Warming Day, like his own had on receiving his first toy spear. The one he wielded now, glittering dangerous against the doorframe, was no toy anymore. No matter how safely it was secured, its presence was unnerving. Twilight eyed it warily before forcing herself to calm down. It was just for show, after all.

“You picked the wrong day to do that,” Twilight said wearily. “I’ve just about had enough surprises for a lifetime.”

Shining Armor chuckled. “You know I’m right though, don’t you? You’ve always had a tendency to take things personally. You’ve beaten yourself up more than anyone else ever has, or probably ever will.” He gave her a playful little shove. “You’re taking all the fun out of being your big brother!”

"I'm glad at least one of us can see the fun side of all this mess."

"You don't sound glad about anything, kiddo." Love trickled through the spaces of his words and spread warmth throughout her body. It was times like these Twilight pined for his outlook on life, if only to remind herself that hope still lived. He brushed her shoulder, his eyes pained. "C'mon, Twily. Tell me what's on your mind."

Her head drooped to the bannister. "That’s the heart of it, I guess. I can't even begin to list everything that’s gone wrong today. Nothing I've done has helped. I keep hearing Celestia in my head telling me to relax, but whenever I do I think of how Luna would chide me for it." Twilight filled her lungs, letting the pain seep away into the night. "Pinkie can see the fun in everything, and she's so good at making everyone else see it too. If she was here, maybe I could take a few steps back and really get my bearings. Now, all I can see is that place where she used to be. Where they all used to be. Everything else is just dull.”

“Dull enough to give up?” Shining Armor nudged himself closer. “Twilight never gives up, at least not the Twilight I know. The Twilight I know doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“I’d take anything for an answer if it would mean getting this over with. This whole day has been nothing but fighting and bickering and getting yelled at by Luna. I just can’t take anymore! If this goes on another day longer, I just don’t know what I’ll do.”

Shining Armor smiled sadly. “Will you promise not to run away again?"

Nodding her agreement was infinitely harder with such a little doubt attached. It was a heavy passenger to bear, and an obvious one too if that look in his eyes was any indication. With a little grin he drew her in tight, warmth and forgiveness screaming out of his skin to shield them from whatever might come. As disheartening as the summit was, having a brother like him was reward enough.

Twilight sank against his chest and sighed, snatching the calm from the evening air to allow her some perspective into this grand view they shared. If the day was a glimpse into how wounded the legislative process had become, then Canterlot's peaceful summer evening was its remedy.

Glittering trails of luminaries crept slowly from Canterlot's main gate to guide their guests to their favorite nocturnal hideaways. Carriages lined the avenue bedecked in their masters' trappings, their dutiful valets kept warm by great flaming bursts from nearby burners as airships of myriad makes and sizes refueled, reloaded, and finally took flight. One ornate carriage rocketed down the path stuffed to the brim with diplomats joking and trading compliments, drowning the last of their energy in the dregs of pilfered champagnes before the sleepy city greedily gobbled them up and bathed them in a warm darkness.

They disappeared, and her heart trailed behind, caught in the wake and its promise of abandon. Maybe the girls awaited her in town like they would have if not for fickle circumstance. Maybe, just for a night, things could be the way they were before the summit and her new responsibilities, back when things made sense. Back before Luna's horrible descent into something Twilight couldn't recognize or love as she had before. Had it been solely this summit that had made Luna so sour? Had it been Twilight?

“I'm sorry to worry you, Shining Armor. I just had to get away from there.” She shot a little plaintive smile towards the glowing lights in Ponyville, but no rescue came. “I just couldn't stand seeing Cadance so upset. She's been about to cry for hours now. I've never seen her so broken up."

"I have," he whispered. "But she's tougher than she seems. She's always been a fighter, as pacifistic as she is. She'll pull through this just like she always has." He fell silent. Cadance had entered his thoughts and set up camp, blocking out all else. Twilight afforded him some time before he returned to the world with a little prod. "I'm a little more worried about you at the moment. How is my little sister, anyway?"

"Horrible. I've spent all day handling the smaller tasks so Luna wouldn't be so stressed out, but she's still as mean as ever. The girls are all off having fun without me, and I get snapped at for so much as thinking about them. I've been working harder than I ever thought I could, but Luna doesn't seem to notice. I can't understand what's keeping her so bitter."

"She's handling all the same pressures you are, Twily, in the only way she knows how. It's not the nicest way in the world, but today isn’t exactly a day for us to look weak. We need help, and Luna is much more skilled at these types of things than anyone.” He pawed the ground, hiding the little jolt of pain lancing through his eyes. “I can’t keep watching Cadance cry herself to sleep, Twilight. As much as you hate Luna, you still need to help her. You’re her student as much as Celestia’s."

As uncomfortable as it was, there was no denying he was right. Twilight gave a little snort and played with the dust on the bannister, flicking a few grains over the edge and into darkness. "Why can't Celestia and Luna just do some magic and make everything better? They already raise and lower the sun and moon without so much as a thought. I thought maybe everything was just as rooted in routine as that was. Celestia always has an answer for everything. She always has."

"I don't think she expected having to answer something like this. These reports coming in... You’d think we weren't even trying to get to the bottom of it. The borderguard is stretched thin as it is, and with all these attacks? Who knows how much longer we can hold out.” He shook his head, his heavy eyelids fighting for purchase. “Celestia is used to having someone definitive behind attacks on Equestria and its allies. Without any viable leads, I don't think she knows where to start."

Twilight bristled. "She must think I do. I think the only reason I'm here is to provide some kind of sign for her to know where to go. She's hoping I'll save her, and Luna's expecting me to do as I'm told."

Twilight shifted her feathers closer together, but they never complied. Like a deep-seeded itch they festered, driving her mad. "If I obey Luna, I turn my back on Celestia. If I help Celestia, I tempt the wrath of Luna. If I do nothing, I might as well ask Celestia to reverse whatever spell she used to give me these stupid, good-for-nothing wings!" Another bristle, but still no peace. Twilight gnashed her teeth on the closest wing, gnawing the flesh into submission. When every failed scratch only worsened the agony, she slammed her head against his armor. It was a good a wall as any. "When will things start going my way, Shining Armor? When will this get any easier?"

"Since when has politics ever been easy?" Shining Armor said, bemused. His horn traced her wings with light, straightening every rebellious feather into its proper alignment. Twilight groaned with relief; the itch had been scratched and the inevitable madness abated. Shining Armor chuckled and brushed her wings. "There's a reason I'm silently standing by with a spear while you're off ruling the world. You've always had a better brain than me, Twily. This is one time I don't envy you."

"How could you? Cadance wants to see everyone safe, but doesn't want to fight. The zebras want resolution through arms, but can't because it might mean declaring war within the Crystal Empire. All the while, Cadance is screaming at everyone because war inher empire might as well be war with her empire, and then we're right back where we were before! This has been one colossal waste of time! If they'd just listen to me, I might be able to help... but it's like I don't even exist." Twilight held back her tears and sniffled. "I might as well not even be a princess."

Shining Armor stroked her mane and pulled her closer, wrapping her up against his chest. Twilight shuddered and sank in further. He held her just like Father did. "What happened to the Twilight who used to organize her blocks alphabetically by color, or correct my spelling before ever attending school? What happened to the personal student of Celestia who always had everything together? That Twilight was pretty great, a lot better than Miss Mopey here."

Twilight breathed deep the cool night air and removed her crown, placing it tenderly on the bannister. Its facets twinkled and caught her eye, but the Twilight they reflected couldn’t have been her. This Twilight staring back was exhausted, scared, and unsure. This Twilight was lost, and not even he had any chance of finding that last shard of her still holding out on hope. That luxury was gone.

"She became royalty, Shining Armor. For now and forever."

Twilight stifled her welling tears and focused instead on her library in the valley below. That fuzzy green tuft—her one true home—had infinitely more life than the cold, hard walls of the once-glorious Canterlot Castle. The magic of her ascension had made these timeless marble floors and sweeping balustrades so beautiful. Now, they’d warped beyond recognition, contorting into something even uglier than the snarls and howls of rage she'd spent the day trying in vain to ignore. The magic of Canterlot was forever ruined, but beneath her library's familiar boughs was a warm bed, a stocked kitchen, her books and journals... Her friends, waiting for her...

Spike would be snoring his heart out right about now, twitching and churning beneath his ever-shrinking blankets as his little mind went wild with thoughts of flight, dank caverns lined with precious gems, and another unattainable treasure who was as lost to him as she was from Twilight. His midnight awakenings to ensure Twilight was safe and his Dragon Code remained upheld never went unnoticed. She'd wasted hours just watching his plump little belly rise and fall, rise and fall, continue the pattern until nothing could ever disturb him. She'd suffer the next day for it, but at least she'd be smiling.

It was such a burden sometimes, just being there. She wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Twilight drew her attention closer to Canterlot and admired the lanterns in the gaps between the trees of the Royal Garden. Their unicorn caretakers shrugged off the rolling breeze and trod silently from tree to tree, willing their charges aflare. Their choreographed dance mirrored the proud wavering of the banners she’d seen just this morning. The zebra ones had been particularly novel, and their translator? She'd been just as happy as Twilight had been.

"I hate how Zecora got thrown into all this," Twilight said, wiping her cheek dry. "She must be regretting having volunteered to translate for me.”

“That was her decision to make, Twilight. You don’t need to feel bad about asking.” He gave her a little nuzzle and rested his heavy head on her own. “There’s a lot of things you still need to get through this thick skull of yours. Knowing when to shake off guilt is one of them.”

“Guilt is going to be my go-to emotion from here on out. I feel guilty about not being able to really help out with the negotiations. I feel guilty about saddling Spike with my library while I'm away. I feel bad for all the waiters and bus-ponies carting away all our half-eaten food! I feel bad about everything! I can only imagine how Celestia and Luna have been coping these last thousand years. That’s a lot of guilt to keep track of, and a whole lot more to find yourself regretting.” Twilight turned to watch the streetlights in Ponyville as they shimmered through the darkness. “I don’t think I could live with it all.”

Shining Armor turned his attention to the fiery Cadance debating through the nearest window. How she stayed so beautiful wrapped up in her rage, Twilight would never know. She did know that look in her brother's eye, though. That little glint was inspiration, and he wasted no time in proving her right. “I never told you how Cadance and I fell in love, did I?”

Twilight gagged dramatically and prodded his belly. “Since when did you get all gooey? And I don’t just mean from all your usual junk food, either!”

“Touché, Your Highness,” Shining Armor said, smirking playfully. “Alright, alright, you win that one! Still, I think it might be a good story for you to hear.”

Twilight gave him her attention with a little nod. There was nothing quite like storytime with Shining Armor. He'd always been a professional raconteur, able to make ghosts spring to life or conjure the sensation of the salty spray of a raging tempest with every masterfully-crafted word. He was gifted in that regard, but never had his tales been about Cadance or their times together in Twilight's absence. The prospect of another grand tale stirred her attention to a boil, and judging by the glassy look in his eyes and the wan smile playing out across his lips, this was one to remember.

“It was right after you moved away to attend Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, and right after I got accepted into the Royal Guard. We got you all settled and said our goodbyes, after which I packed my things and caught the first train to Baltimare for basic training. Mom and Dad never got the chance to see us much after that. I regret having never gone back home to visit, but with curfews and exhaustion I never found an opportunity. One night, though, I got a break. I packed up some things and decided to catch the next train to Canterlot to see Mom and Dad. My Sergeant, however, had other plans for my leave.

“Some VIP needed an escort to Manehatten, and he asked for volunteers for an all-expense-paid two-week romp toting bags and acting tough. He told us we’d spend most of our time on guard, protecting whatever hoity-toity busy-body needed a few extra limbs and a weapon. I didn’t want to do it, but I needed the bits.”

Twilight's ears perked up. “So who was it? It was Cadance, wasn’t it?”

“Actually, it was Hoity-Toity,” Shining Armor said with a smile. “C'mon, did you honestly think I’d be that predictable?”

Twilight shoved her brother hard and joined him in fits of giggling before a lack of shouting from within betrayed their volume. With hooves over lips and a few final snickers the two came together and kept their voices low. Shining Armor watched the windows for an angry Luna's glare and continued when no admonitions came. “Needless to say, I don't think your friend Rarity would've minded it half as much as I did... but I wouldn’t have run into Cadance if I hadn’t taken a tumble carrying a few too many negligees.”

Twilight's cocked eyebrow demanded an explanation, so he stifled his laughter and gave in. “He had me bring some nightgowns out to the train and I, being the headstrong bachelor that I was, decided to bring it all out in one go. The Southern Staircase was a faster route than walking all the way through the ballroom and out through the foyer, so I gave it a shot. Turns out skimpy eveningwear is really, really heavy en masse. You’d never guess by looking at it.”

Despite his efforts, an embarrassed little grin played out across his face. “Once I finished tumbling down the spiral staircase, I found myself being cared for by a very young and attractive alicorn who just couldn't stop laughing at me. Here I was, battered, bruised, and utterly dumbfounded, lying under a pile of dresses while Cadance is rolling on the floor laughing herself to tears! She tried and tried to stop giggling like a filly and act like the princess she was, but she couldn't have done that for the life of her! She was snorting! Actually snorting!"

Twilight bit her hoof and tried in vain to keep herself contained, but it was a pointless move. Their laughter echoed from the walls and brought that wonderful sound back home, a fact which only made them laugh harder. His armor clanked heavily on the tile as he gave in to the memories and let everything go, thumping his hoof on the ground as Twilight held her gut and giggled uncontrollably. After a few minutes of glee, Twilight wrested control of herself and calmed that wonderful ache in her belly, smiling at her dearest brother as their laughter sounded out through the grounds and the valley beyond.

And for a few seconds, Canterlot was alive again.

Shining Armor wiped his cheeks dry with a calming breath. "She thought it was cute that I was traipsing around the castle heaving around frilly undergarments. And me? Well...”

He peered back inside and caught Cadance’s eye, watching her calmly as she succumbed to the day's long train of disappointments. From behind the furious salvos of muffled yelling she smiled, beaming at her husband with all that love begrudgingly abandoned as the promises of Twilight's address clashed with the brutal realities of the day. It was as pure, honest, and sincere as Cadance herself, even when all hope had faded.

Of all the ponies for her to love utterly and completely, she had chosen him: the goofiest, most immature stallion who'd ever had the fortune to literally fall in love with her. His transformation from vagabond to loving husband had smacked him with all the force of those same marble steps down which he'd tumbled. They looked as though they wouldn't have had it any other way. Bringing himself back around, Shining Armor secreted away his love and gave Twilight a little grin. “Let’s just say I fell head-over-hoof in more ways than one that day.”

Chuckling as Twilight’s hoof sank further into her cheek, he concluded with a little shake of his armor and a few steps closer to the door. “The point is this: sometimes we’re forced to make choices we don’t want to make, but there’s no telling what little things you’ll find that make those choices worthwhile. You just have to be brave enough to take them when they come and understand that, whatever happens, the harder way is the better one. It won't seem like it, but it always will be.”

As she took her place at his side, Twilight couldn’t help but feel surprised. “Since when did you get all introspective?”

Shining Armor drew her in close, hugged her tight, and kissed her lightly on the head. “My sister just became a princess. I have to keep up the pace if I want to keep beating her at everything!”

Unfurling her wings, Twilight burrowed herself into his chest as far as she could, giving up every ounce of love she had. If all the world were to crash and burn by the coming of the dawn, that little shard of her would live on in the stallion to whom it mattered most. Twilight tightened her wings’ grip. In this moment, with all of eternity before her, at least that one little thing would never change.

Savoring the embrace for another moment, Twilight broke apart from her brother and donned her crown. When a nod from Shining Armor signalled her preparedness, she shook her mane and took a deep, calming breath. "Are you ready?" Shining Armor said, hefting his spear to attention. With a nod Twilight gave her affirmation, and with a brief trot in place to rally her courage Twilight pushed open the door and resumed her royal life with her brother at her side.

Emerging with a flush of cold air, Twilight's eyes adjusted to the glare and revealed a long stretch of mahogany table populated by senators and their aides conversing in hushed tones. The inability to join their lower-level comrades in celebration was weighing heavily on them all, but they remained dedicated to their work. Their position at the Elder’s Table was an honor unparalleled.

A beige river of parchment coiled through the air, snaking its way around the table to come fluttering to the base of a monumental pile. Attendants of every nation rushed pen and parchment to the attentions of their superiors, who stamped, signed, and certified each document before shipping them down the line to the attentions of whichever royal could ignore them first.

Zecora stood as poised as ever, holding her head high despite her obvious exhaustion. Sweat and paint besmirched her forehead with a light rouge, but she paid her appearance no mind. From between her client and Cadance there was little time for herself, nor ample time to think before rebuttals came flying in. Her translation of her client's tirade had all but finished before the stamp of a diamond-shod hoof prefaced a very improper bark of rage from a furious Cadance.

"You dare blame us for this?!" Cadance howled, the edges of her snarl curling with every word. "You dare insinuate that the Crystal Empire is harboring a worldwide threat for use as a... a bargaining chip? A secret weapon? This is outrageous!" Zecora adopted her native tongue to relay the message, but it did little good. Cadance's furrowed brow and volatility were universally understood and—by the looks of every mare and stallion in the room, including Shining Armor—universally feared.

"The Crystal Empire would never even think of granting Sombra any kind of leniency for his actions. My ponies spent one thousand years under the whip of that maniac, and now that he's no longer enslaving my citizens you assume I’m protecting him for my benefit? You think I’m faking this whole thing to lure you into a trap?” Cadance held her opponent’s eyes and shook her head. “He’s gone, Lord Ironhoof. I saw it myself. I’m not your enemy, and neither is the Crystal Empire. What more can I do to convince you to trust me?”

A few hurried comments from the warlord’s attendants went unacknowledged, and as Twilight snuck in for a closer look the zebra shifted his attention from Cadance and held her firmly within his gaze. Unlike the vivacious zebra elder she’d met before, this zebra exuded only malice. Jagged, crimson scars ran from chest to cheek, brutal reminders of foes long-slain on plains long since bloodied. His ragged ears perked up to heed Zecora's translations, but it seemed instead that every ounce of his attention was spent staring her down.

If Twilight thought Luna was cold, then this zebra was abysmally hollow. His one remaining eye glinted as dangerously as the obsidian spearhead he stroked at his side, both devoid of color or mercy. She averted her eyes, but still he followed her every move. Twilight shuddered and watched the candles on the table. How could Cadance stand looking at him as long and as fiercely as she was now?

Shooting Twilight one final glare, the warlord snorted his displeasure and grunted a few more words for his translator to pick up. He returned his attention to Cadance while Zecora nodded her understanding.

"My Lord demands to see the head to verify that Sombra's dead. You sang of battle, cursed his name, made all these claims... but nothing came. You lack the proof which he demands and thus, to him, your words won't stand. He says he hopes you'll follow through, for shame haunts rulers such as you."

"I told you before, nothing of him remains!" Cadance stomped her hoof to hide her tears, looking towards Twilight and her husband for aid before turning towards her opponent. "We've searched and searched, but nothing has been found! You should take that as a good thing! He left nothing that might taint our world! We are free of him!"

A few muffled grunts followed, summarized quickly by a worried Zecora. "He says that Cadance is too weak to know those ghosts of which she speaks. She dares not fight or cast a spear to save all those whom she holds dear." Zecora stopped for a second and shot Cadance an apologetic smile. "She failed her empire once before. Who knows what lies she has in store?"

Cadance reeled in shock, earning a scoff from Ironhoof as he leaned back in his seat. Shining Armor's nape bristled with rage, but Twilight's firm hold on his shoulder was enough for him to restrain himself. "You would do well to watch your tongue, Lord Ironhoof," Cadance asserted weakly, her voice limp with stifled tears. "I was unable to protect my ponies in the past, but you'd best believe I'll do anything to keep them safe. I will not, however, resort to war."

Cadance allowed Zecora a few unpressured moments to relay her message, listen to the muffled grunts and clicks of her client, and finally twist and turn the words into her usual rhyming rhythms with downcast eyes. "Lord Ironhoof has this to say: your absence led your mind astray. The zebra lords are warriors first, whereas you ponies lack bloodthirst. You lack the will to slay your foes or bloody your hooves to end your woes. If you will not then he must try, for should you fail..." Zecora returned her attention towards her client only to find him resolute. Returning her eyes towards Cadance, Zecora trembled and caught the tail of her speech where she'd left it. "Then all shall die."

As her head fell, those senators and aides checking the logistics of their documents broke their attentions and fell silent. A river of parchment fell slowly to the ground as Cadance shot forward, leaning her weight on the table with a growl of rage.

"Are you really so naïve as to think warfare will solve anything? My ponies haven't been able to rest knowing that they might be attacked at any moment! If you attack whoever is committing these heinous acts, how can you expect to bring about peace? How can warfare bring anything but more warfare?"

"Calm down, Cadance," Celestia said carefully, rising from her seat. "Lord Ironhoof means no disrespect. He means only his nation's safety and a swift resolution, as you do. Perhaps if you grant him some—"

"I will not permit any bloodshed in my empire! I will never permit anything so heinous, not ever! There has to be another way to end this without violence!” The first of her tears fell, slamming into the table with a violent force. Twilight watched them and held her own at bay. A part of her had broken off and died on the table, and none but her seemed to notice. “The zebras can shake their spears and sound their trumpets, but I will never—never—resort to killing anyone!”

“Then you’re a fool.”

Silence. Cadance opened her eyes to find Lord Ironhoof on his hooves, his eye blazing. Zecora and the other zebra senators sat stunned, retreating from the conflict as the warlord shook his regalia into a better position and leaned on the table, swearing under his breath. Cadance rallied herself and thrust back into the fray with a scowl. “Why didn’t you say you could speak Equestrian?”

Twilight could sense the bravery in her voice and the disdain in his as Ironhoof looked her over and snorted heavily. “You never dared ask, and you never gave me a choice. You slapped me with an interpreter without so much as a thought. You treated me like a savage. You were wrong to do so, and you’re wrong to stand idle. This mockery you call a summit has gone on long enough. If you will not take arms, then I will. I will not allow my lands to come to any harm because you’re too inept to lead and too stupid to fight.”

"Watch it!" Shining Armor barked, shoving past Twilight. "That's my wife you're talking to! One more word and I swear I'll—"

"Honey, please don't get involved," Cadance said. "This isn't your fight."

"It is now," he growled, inching closer. "Be careful what you say around Cadance, zebra. She may not want a fight, but I'd like nothing more."

Ironhoof lazily turned his head, watching them both with amusement. "I almost forgot about you. Shining Armor, is it? Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard and a prince, now that Cadance has taken the Crystal Empire under her wing. There seem to be an abundance of crowns in your family line." His eyes narrowed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think Canterlot was playing favorites."

"Shining Armor has nothing to do with this. He hasn't done anything wrong."

"Hasn't he? It would seem he's more guilty than you realize. The newly crowned Princess Sparkle has at least some credit to her name, being one of your most precious Elements. In all respects, she acquired her crown through some semblance of effort." Ironhoof bared his teeth. "He never needed to look much further than your bedsheets to find his."

Shining Armor lurched forward with a howl of rage, his spear clutched tight in his magic’s grasp. Ironhoof caught his movements and readied himself with a quick turn and a flex of his muscles, bracing for an impact which would never come. A pop, a flash of purple, and Twilight reemerged from nothingness, holding him at bay with every ounce of strength she had. As heavy as he was, there was something in her touch that broke his rampage almost immediately. She looked him in the eyes, shook her head, and sighed with relief as the tension in his chest slowly slid away.

When he had finally calmed down, Twilight turned and locked eyes with Ironhoof. Luna was on her hooves and poised for battle, but Twilight was closer and, if possible, more angry. Luna’s icy mantle calmed her down some. There was a certain power in her rage. “How dare you speak to her like that!”

Lord Ironhoof watched her carefully with an eye so cold she could feel it crawling over her, looking for a weakness. The very thought triggered whatever lesson came to mind first. She straightened her back, stood up tall, and took on Luna’s formidable airs. Ironhoof scoffed at her attempts, though a little part of him looked uneasy. “So, the little princess has returned after her long absence. Am I supposed to be afraid of you, little one?”

From the corner of her eye Luna inched forward, screaming through silent eyes for Twilight's caution. Her mane waved violently, but she never made a move. Twilight's bravery surged. For once, her stance was her own. “No, but you will respect me, Lord Ironhoof, just as you will respect Princess Cadance from here on out. Your accusations are unfair and untrue, and I won’t allow you to keep on attacking her.”

Ironhoof chuckled, watching her with his one good eye. It darted and zipped over every inch of her, judging the strength of her arm, the fire in her eyes, any possible threat she might have at the ready. He squinted, gave her another cursory look, and finally settled to the floor. The bulging muscles in his legs slowly relaxed, and as they did his smile grew. “You truly do take after your teacher. I can see Luna’s influence.”

An icy chill coursed through Twilight's legs. If this was what it felt like to be like Luna, then it was a sensation she’d best get used to. The attribution of her as Luna’s student stung even more. Even if the two of them were stern as occasion warranted, at least Celestia was fair about it. Hadn’t she been fair? Was she turning into Luna after all?

“I’m sorry about my brother,” Twilight said when all was calm. “Your insinuations were absolutely uncalled for, but his outburst was inexcusable. I beg your forgiveness on his behalf. He’s not usually so aggressive.”

“He should be. If he wants to protect Cadance’s ponies from harm, he would do well to learn from his actions. We cannot save our nations by talking of peace. Peace must be taken by the sword. There is no other way. I would’ve taken his spear’s edge if it meant he might learn this fact.” Ironhoof held Twilight’s eyes with his own, grinning devilishly. “You’ve denied me another trophy, Princess Sparkle. I expect some compensation.”

“Not at my expense you won’t.” Cadance, turning away from her husband, reaffirmed her station at the table with a distressed glance at Celestia. “Princess Celestia, please! Tell him I won’t allow him to wage a war in my borders! Tell him we have to find another way!”

“I don’t think he wants to hear from me.” She calmly turned to Twilight with all the warmth she could muster. “I believe Twilight might be the only one who can dissuade him now. ”

Ironhoof’s eye flared. “What help can Luna’s student possibly give? I haven’t heard a word from her all day save in her brother’s defense. Besides, she’s too young! What could she possibly propose that we haven’t yet considered?”

“She has been an Element of Harmony for quite some time, and a student of mine for far longer. There are few I have ever considered to wear a crown, and she is chief among them. Surely this must be enough to satisfy you, Lord Ironhoof. She is very capable, even if her silence denotes otherwise.”

With a little grumble Ironhoof surrendered the floor, giving Celestia an obligatory nod. “Fine. What does the little princess have to say in this matter?”

The room grew cold, and colder still the longer she sat in silence. The pressure grew heavy on her tongue, threatening to cut her down before her time. Twilight shook off the feeling and hid her eyes from the assembly. “I agree with Cadance with not wanting to start a war, but I also agree that we need to act on this if we stand any chance of finding out who or what is behind these latest attacks. Cadance is worried about her ponies’ safety, and Lord Ironhoof wants to make sure the danger is eliminated entirely. The way I see it, if he wants to ensure the danger doesn’t spread south, then he should come north." Twilight turned and addressed the council directly. "I think the only way we'll be able to fix this is if Lord Ironhoof is welcomed into the Crystal Empire."

“What do you mean?” Luna said, straightening herself in her chair. Cadance looked hurt, but there was an earnest appeal for some kind of idea from a trusted friend like Twilight. Ironhoof sneered triumphantly and stared her down, eagerly awaiting her answer.

“Well, I think maybe instead of fighting about who should take initiative, both nations should. When my friends Rarity and Applejack had a fight during my slumber-party, they kept on—”

“Surely, you’re not serious,” Ironhoof blurted, gawking at her incredulously. “Are you honestly suggesting we base the security of our nations on the notion of a slumber party?”

"I am, and I'd also suggest that you allow me to finish. I value your opinions, my lord, but your behavior makes it very hard to give you my respect. If you'll permit me, I have a plan that might assuage any worries you might have. I only ask for a moment of your time."

The calm stoicism of her address took them both by surprise. For a second, it was almost as if Celestia had seized control. Ironhoof started to speak, but his words caught in his throat. Without an attack to cling to, the power shifted almost completely in her favor. The sensation of being in command slammed her senses, coursing through her in a wave of exhilarating control. The room was hers and everyone knew it, especially a silently smiling Luna. Twilight steadied the rush of her heart before the nervous little mare within prodded her to speak.

"A little while ago, I invited my friends Applejack and Rarity to come inside my library during a storm. They'd been trying to work together to clear some branches so they wouldn't damage houses in Ponyville, but they'd had a certain difference of opinion. Rarity was averse to doing the heavy pulling required of the task, whereas Applejack had no issue with getting her hooves dirty. She rather enjoys it, in fact... but her direct approach didn't help when she accidentally pulled down a tree into my house."

Ironhoof shifted his hooves as her story went on, but he kept his word and held his tongue. His impatience was pressing enough for haste. "Her lack of attention and headstrong approach were doing more harm than good, so Rarity jumped in and turned a big, daunting problem into a bunch of little ones, each of them simple to solve when they worked at them together. They applied both tactics in equal measure, and in the end the problem was solved!"

For the first time, Ironhoof appeared intrigued. "And you're comparing myself to this... Applejack? My direct approach for Cadance's detailed one?"

Twilight nodded enthusiastically. "That's exactly what I'm saying! Don't instigate an all-out war, especially not when Cadance doesn't require or condone arms. Instead, direct your attention where it's needed. Think about it in terms of scars, Lord Ironhoof. Cauterizing a wound will get the job done quickly, but you'll damage healthy skin in the process. A careful stitch heals the same, but it requires more time and care. Apply your militaristic emphasis where Cadance needs it most, and you'll both profit!"

Lord Ironhoof fell silent, staring through her at some imaginary point as one weathered hoof traced a predominant scar on his chest. "And how do you propose we accomplish this? Princess Cadance has seen fit to remain adamant against my kind's presence."

"She never said that! She just said she didn't want war. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," Cadance said cautiously, "though I'd prefer no fighting at all."

"Sometimes we don't have that luxury, but if you remain an active presence in Lord Ironhoof's work, you can direct it more to your needs."

"You have yet to explain this plan of yours, and what part I am to play," barked Ironhoof. Twilight held his attention with a coy little smile.

"If I remember correctly, the zebra's have no embassy in the Crystal Empire anymore. Isn't that right, Princess Luna?"

"Indeed, they do not," Luna replied cordially. "The last ambassador, Lord Petrichor, died over a thousand years ago, a few months before the Crystal Empire disappeared."

"Then that's it! What if we rebuild the zebra embassy on the northern borders of Cadance's empire? We could allow Cadance the ability to be judge of what happens to the wrong-doers that are caught, but allow a zebra representative to be Lord Ironhoof's eyes in his stead. Bring zebra warriors to maintain stability, but allow Cadance some say in where they go and how they interact with the citizenry. Everyone gets some peace of mind and, if all goes well, we can nip this in the bud without a drop of blood spilled! As far as I know, that seems to be the best compromise, and it’s a simple one too."

The room fell silent for a few moments before Ironhoof chuckled dryly and shook his mane. “You disappoint me, Princess Sparkle. I’d expected something revolutionary from the Element of Magic, not another empty promise of a failed embassy.”

“This one won’t fail.”

“What makes you so confident?”

Twilight beamed. “Because this time, I’ll be the one in charge.”

Ironhoof looked her over incredulously a few times, raised his head to the ceiling, and cackled uproariously. Luna balked violently and watched Twilight, shocked. His laughter even earned a smile on Cadance’s lips, though it was hard to tell about whom she was smiling. Even Twilight’s façade cracked a little, though she hid it as soon as he wrangled himself back to his domineering stature with an exasperated smile. “How could you, a fledgling princess, fix a thousand years of failed negotiations by yourself?”

“I’ve been a student for far longer than I’ve been a princess, Lord Ironhoof. Celestia knows I know my way around a library. Fixing problems is something I’m good at. Besides, there’s no way you’ll be able to have the kind of scrutiny you want if Cadance doesn’t agree. Having me lead this project is the only way you’ll ever have a set of eyes and any kind of weapon in the Crystal Empire.”

Ironhoof’s devilish grin widened. “Is this how the young Princess Sparkle plays hardball with the likes of warlords?”

“It is,” Twilight retorted, stretching her smile to match. “Revolutionary enough for you?”

Her words echoed through the hall, and with a little start Twilight found the chamber quiet for the first time in hours. Cadance and Shining Armor sat stunned, but their surprise was nothing compared to Celestia’s. Her jaw was agape, her eyes wide with pride and a sliver of astonished horror. That maternal glimmer in her eyes remained, but there was no denying some immortal part of her had changed its perception of her once-timid student.

And for the first time in months, Luna was grinning from ear to ear.

Lord Ironhoof chuckled to himself and turned to Cadance. “Princess?”

"I would be alright with this," Cadance said meekly, "just as long as you can assure me no undue violence will be used against anyone caught."

"My soldiers are well-trained," Ironhoof replied. He sounded almost pleasant, a fact which appeared to shock Celestia even further. "They will not be an issue. Food and board, however, will be. If you’re willing to grant them a monthly stipend for food and necessities, I would be willing to give them up for this endeavour."

"That's more than reasonable," Cadance said with a sigh of relief. She turned to Twilight and beamed. "Let’s get started!”

"Actually, I believe Twilight needs to consult with me first."

Luna rose from her seat, and as she did the room turned to heed her. Twilight held her breath lest the sound of her screaming heart came roaring out from her mouth. Luna watched her for a few more seconds, then smiled politely at Ironhoof and Cadance. “With your permission, I will adjourn with Twilight and discuss her plans for this embassy. I believe you’ll find her more than capable of the task, but I feel obligated to consult with her on its course.” She fixed her eyes on Twilight. “She will have all the proper guidance. Of that, you can be sure. We will present our final plan tomorrow morning. Until then, I believe there isn’t much more we have left to discuss.”

Ironhoof and Cadance nodded their agreement, sat back in their chairs, and allowed the day to come to a close with a collective sigh of relief. The senators and aides along the table wiped their brows and shook hooves, joining with their comrades for refills on coffee and other choice beverages before another long slog through the legislative mire.

“Excellent,” Luna declared, more to herself than anyone. She followed the table’s edge and joined Twilight before nodding towards Shining Armor. “Captain, some of our guests are waiting for me in the Imperial Suite. Please bring them to my study as soon as you can.” Luna reaffirmed her watch on Twilight, her eyes glinting. “After you.”

Twilight turned from the table and immediately felt ill. For once a solid answer was pushing through the legislative bedrock, but still Luna remained to block out the light. Pulling open the door with her magic, Twilight trudged down the hall with eyes downcast. Fluctuations in the air and implicit commands were her only guides, for Luna had opted not to grace the halls with conversation. Like always, she jealously clinged to her thoughts. Twilight could almost hear her shackles rattling in the spaces between her hoofsteps. A firm success under her wing, and still she was Luna's grounded pupil.

Twilight's smile curled. Not if I have anything to say about it.

The Royal Observatory was as timeless as Twilight remembered from her childhood. Everything was in the same place as when she’d last seen it, forcing her to wonder whether anyone had come in to clean, to organize, or even to use what lay within. Hefty tomes and starcharts enveloped the tables, caked with the remnants of centuries-old candles and unswept dust. Bookshelves soared like monuments along the walls, with ladders and various stools propped up seemingly randomly against their towering heights. Old, decrepit, and fascinating it remained, but through the haze of stationary dust motes stood the one thing Twilight loved above all else: Luna’s personal telescope.

It was a transect of Equestria's glorious past, a bridge between the old and new. Oxidized, sickly-looking bronze gave way to dull iron, iron to shining steel, steel to warm gold. Clunky bands made way for newer, tighter fittings, each new addition more refined than the last. Finally, when gold and platinum intertwined and the final lenses were all snug in their places, the light of the universe came pouring out through the finest crystal eyepiece the world had ever made. The possibilities of potential discoveries were as awe-inspiring as the device itself.

Funny that Luna, its caretaker, didn’t elicit the same devotion anymore. Two months’ tutelage had wiped that slate clean, though the remnants of her formerly bright, personable attitude remained somewhere in the tracings left behind. Now, however, she was as she’d been since the summit was proposed: stern, immovable, and vigilant. The lingering echoes of her formidable Royal Voice permeated throughout the many lofty corners of her observatory. A thousand years, and still they lived.

But then again, so had she.

Twilight checked the hallway outside, closing the door firmly behind her when all was quiet. Luna, as silent as a ghost, seated herself on the padded cushions in her telescope's shadow. Twilight followed close behind, placing herself carefully just out of reach. Luna admired her telescope for a brief moment before a little pop and a flash of light signalled the arrival of tea. The sudden cordiality was more sobering than the inevitable doom to come, and the silence which followed made it even more harrowing. But still, despite everything, Luna didn’t appear to be angry. This was the most frightening revelation of all. “You said you wanted to talk to me, Luna?”

Luna’s teapot lilted through the air and portioned them both a steaming cup of a dark, aromatic brew. Luna eyed it warily, took a little sip, and deemed it worthy. “Indeed I did, Twilight,” she said curtly. “I was hoping you might walk me through what just transpired.”

A knee-jerk rebuttal came with a violent force, but there was something in her voice that sounded not haughty or judgmental, but sincere. She was asking, not demanding, in a voice stained with her sister’s easy grace. Twilight sat stunned, waiting for the hammer to fall. This wasn’t the same Luna who’d been tormenting her these past few months. It couldn’t have been.

“Lord Ironhoof was making accusations against Princess Cadance. He said that she was more concerned about her conscience than her ponies’ safety, and that she was unable to keep them safe. He advocated that we lash out, try and get to the bottom of this with force... something Cadance wouldn't do. He believed her to be too weak to lead."

“Do you agree with his assessment?”

"Do I think Cadance is weak? Of course not!"

"What then? Do you find her actions not in her best interests?"

Twilight shrugged her shoulders and grimaced. “A little. I think Cadance is doing the right thing by advocating for peace, but I think she needs to toughen up and accept the fact that defending her nation will mean getting her hooves dirty.”

Luna sipped her tea, hiding a little smile. “Go on.”

Twilight settled further into her seat and allowed herself to relax. Luna's behaviors dispelled any notion of some violent motive. For a moment, even her interjection into Twilight's project was forgotten. “He then asked my opinion, and I told him how he might be able to eliminate the problem to everyone’s satisfaction. It might have been a little foolish of me to bring the girls into it, but I thought that some personal experience might be helpful. As far as I know, I think he liked my idea for an embassy.”

Luna nodded quietly. "The zebra embassy in the Crystal Empire was never exceptionally large, nor very powerful. When the Crystal Empire disappeared, its existence was quickly forgotten. Diplomacy, to those lords still holding to the old ways, is a weakness best eradicated by the sword. Warfare, conquest, and trials by arms will forever be their pen and parchment. Lord Ironhoof is one such leader, and thus I am impressed you were able to reconcile with him.”

Twilight’s ears perked up at this. “You were?” The resulting smile and little nod swept her up. For the first time since this whole mess had begun, Luna appeared proud. Twilight reclined in her seat and sipped her tea, savoring every drop. “That means a lot, Luna. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome." She was curt, even when cordial. Wasted words were wasted seconds, after all, and time was a precious commodity. Twilight watched her sample her tea and waited. There would only be one chance to break free. When it came, she seized it without hesitation.

“Listen, I know you’re trying to make sure I succeed, but I feel as though this embassy is something I need to do by myself.”

Luna flicked her eyes from her tea to Twilight in a flash, though she never moved a muscle. Her eyes were crippling, but Twilight forced herself onwards. "You always told me that a princess has to take initiative and lead on her own. I think this will be a good opportunity to try something by myself, to—"

"You're an excellent student," Luna said quietly, breaking Twilight's stride. "Celestia spoke highly of you, and yet I felt the need to question her appraisal. I admit that I was wrong. You are quite intelligent, and exceptionally adaptable to change."

What pride Twilight felt in this moment quickly died with every flip of Luna’s mane. Something was coming, she could feel it tingling through the tepid spaces between them. Twilight eyed the tea leaves clinging to her cup and prodded them with her magic, searching for a sign. Nothing. She scoffed and refilled her cup to the brim. So much for that.

Luna drained her cup, set it down delicately, and leaned closer. “You’re probably wondering why I asked you to follow me here, to the observatory of all places.” She turned to her telescope, practically glowing in the presence of her treasure. “This was handed down to me by Princess Platinum herself, long ago. She bequeathed it to me on the eve of her death with the expectation that it would forevermore watch over Equestria for those who might do it harm. This nation was her dream.” The star behind her eyes flickered, cast off its luminous shells, and slowly died away into nothing. “And I became its nightmare.”

She averted her eyes from her gift. “Weakness cannot be tolerated in a princess, Twilight. This must be recognized above all things. I’ve tried to temper and refine you into a leader of which Equestria might be justly proud, one which would never allow it to come to harm. I’ve pressured you, probably more than I should have... but it was in my efforts to ensure you were ready to lead on your own, without my help. I understand how much your independence means to you." Luna lowered her head and watched her cup refill, peering through the floor for inspiration. When she raised her eyes, there was nothing there. “I find that I cannot give it to you. You’re not ready to be on your own."

Like a punch to the gut Twilight’s core imploded and turned horribly cold. Every air of civility and grace which Luna had adopted was but a diaphanous fold to hide her intent, and they had served their purpose. Now, as Twilight stared at Luna’s padded cushions, her splendid porcelain mugs, even her glorious telescope, she could only see the emptiness of her future. Luna had wiped it clean. Her judgment had come.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Twilight whimpered, pushing through her tears to reach whatever sliver of the old Luna remained. “I’ve only ever done what you asked me to do! I’ve only ever done what I thought was right!”

“You've been a good student, and obedient,” Luna said. She kept her eyes from Twilight’s and stared only at the space between them. “Celestia has done well in training you, but she has only trained you for times of peace. I was asked to train you for making decisions in times of war, and though you have made progress I don’t feel you’ve reached my expectations.”

“That’s not fair!” Twilight howled, leaping to her hooves. “I’ve done every single thing you’ve ever asked of me, Luna! I’ve done some things I never thought I’d have to do just so you’d be proud of me! So you’d let me be on my own!” Twilight’s lip trembled, twisting slowly into a scowl. “What is it about me that you hate so much?”

Luna shook off an icy shiver. “I will not be victim to your assumptions, Twilight. Do not misconstrue my denial of your independence as a reflection of yourself, for you have achieved much in a short time. You should be proud of what you have done. Not many can lay claim to the successes you've had.”

“But what’s the point, if not to be on my own?” Twilight slumped back onto her cushion. “I want to be like you and Celestia! I want to be a real princess, but you keep finding ways to hold me back! That’s all you’ve ever done!”

“Enough!” Luna’s whip-like bark slammed against the rafters, filling the corners with the long-lost power of her millennial voice. She took a few deep breaths and assuaged those demons within. “That’s enough, Twilight. I did not bring you here to stand trial, nor hold trial against you. I brought you here for an opportunity to understand your place."

"I do understand! Cadance and Ironhoof? They understand! Even Celestia gets it! The only one who can't see it is you!" Twilight braced herself. "I'm ready for this, Luna! I'm ready to be on my own! Why can't you trust me?"

Luna raised her head with eyes hard and emotionless. "The reason I cannot entrust you with your independence is precisely the same reason why you resort to begging for my blessing. A princess cannot rely on others all the time. The only source of power we can always rely on comes from within, not in your friends or Celestia. Not in me.” Luna relinquished her stranglehold on the air with a little sigh. “I know you feel you’re ready, but I must be absolutely sure before I can give my blessing. Celestia has given you her approval already. If you might answer one final question to my satisfaction, I shall do the same.”

Hope fluttered in the pit of her stomach, a colorful blast of relief to cast away the darkness of Luna’s shadow. Twilight wrangled her pulsing wings and stifled the reinvigorated squirming of her legs. She took another of Cadance’s calming breaths, sucked in every happy memory and every wonderful promise she could, closed her eyes, and let everything go. “What would you ask of me, Luna?”

As she opened her eyes, she found Luna’s somber stare waiting for her. “I would like you to explain why you hate me.”

Twilight choked. “I don’t understand...”

Luna's eyes fell back towards the floor. “I have provided you with the opportunity to learn how to be a better princess, to govern and lead with the strength necessary for any who wear the crown. I have given you my guidance, my experience, and my wholehearted devotion to your success. I have given you everything I have, but still I feel as though you believe I’m your enemy. I would like to know why.”

Luna’s face was empty, but behind those eyes was the Luna of old, from long before the world as it was. This was the Luna of the age of Discord, of battles won and histories rewritten, of a fledgling world hammered and tempered in the fire of her leadership. One misstep and the blade she’d been honing for a thousand years would finally come of use. Twilight summoned her courage. “I... I don't like that you've been so unnecessarily hard on me, Luna. You haven't exactly been fair.”

“‘Fair’ is a word you should eradicate from your vocabulary. It is a crutch for weakness, nothing more. Your enemies will not consider whether or not what they do is fair, and neither have I. You must learn how to push back when events are not in your favor. Now is one such time.” Luna raised her head high. “I will not accept your answer. Try again.”

Her words were calm, but those eyes... They belonged to the Nightmare, not to the fair, honest, loving Luna of the past. Twilight pawed the ground, looking for an answer. “Maybe it's because you’ve only ever treated me like I was a failure. Every time I try and do something on my own, you shoot me down. You expect me to be a strong leader, but when I try and do just that you say I’m not good enough! That I’m doing something wrong!” Twilight stamped her hoof. “Can’t you see how frustrating that is?”

“I can, but at this moment I only see a young mare not getting what she wants. I see you trying to carve your own path without understanding what to expect. I see a child unsure of herself, relying on fragile bonds which break when tested.” Luna’s tiny smile died. “I do not see a princess. If I cannot find a reason to take you seriously, why should your enemies?"

Twilight fell silent, listening to the creaks of cooling bookshelves and the tinny sound of her voice reverberating throughout the hall. The strong, powerful voice she’d heard before was now a nagging chatter in her ear. She did sound like a child. Had she always sounded so empty? Had Celestia noticed too? Had Celestia ever minded?

Looking around the lonely corners of the observatory yielded no comforts. Nothing gave any indication that Celestia, Canterlot, or even Ponyville existed. This lonely room—Luna’s refuge—was a world unto itself. No gilded suns draped from the walls, nor spellbooks or syllabary which Celestia wielded as instruments of knowledge. Everything had been aligned in the reverse. Luna’s moon sigil covered the bannisters on the catwalks above, framing her cutie mark’s portrait on the oculus cover overhead. Celestia’s white and gold had been transformed into Luna’s black and blue motif, as cold and stifling as the Royal Observatory, in her tenure as its caretaker, had become. Despite her alleged love for her sister, there was no trace of Celestia to be found. The more Twilight looked, the more it seemed she’d designed it that way.

Luna wasn’t standing alongside her sister. She was actively combating her influence. How better than through her protégé?

That's it.

“I think you're scared of me, Luna.”

Luna cocked her eyebrow, her victorious smile flickering. “And why might that be?"

"Because I can be a better princess than you ever were, and you're too afraid I might be right to let me try."

Luna’s eyes glittered dangerously. Her blade was being unsheathed. “You would be wise to watch your tone with me, Twilight Sparkle. Celestia might tolerate such rebellious behavior, but when you're in my presence you will remember your place. You are my student, and I will have your respect!"

“You’ve always had my respect, Luna, but I never felt I had yours! We spent months preparing for this meeting, but not once did I feel like you listened to my ideas. This embassy could be my chance to show you everything I’ve learned from you! What’s holding you from letting me give it a shot?”

“This is no time for trial and error,” Luna snapped. “This is life or death. This embassy is final. You have no experience in these matters, and we don’t have time to let you experiment with ponies’ lives to find out how you work best. You can’t do this alone.”

“Then let me talk to the senators tomorrow! Let me work with them and solve this! Chancellor Strata and I could work together on it! You saw how worried he was this morning. I think he’d love to be able to have a hoof in helping!” Twilight jumped to her hooves, alive with activity. “And Zecora! She could translate my intentions and talk to some of the zebras. I could assemble committees! I could organize everyone myself! I can do this, Luna!”

Luna looked at her calmly. “No, Twilight, you can’t. There will never be a committee large enough to conquer the wall of red tape you’ll encounter if you don't understand your obligations.” She shook her head, her eyes downcast. “I’m sorry, Twilight, but we can’t take that risk. You’ll need to defer to me on this. You’re not ready.”

Twilight slowly fell back onto her cushion, staring blankly at Luna’s hooves. She hid her eyes and scowled. “And you wonder why I hate you...”

The clinking of Luna’s mug was cacophonous, masking only slightly the sound of her blood rushing to her face. Twilight raised her eyes to find Luna glowering down at her, holding the chains of her demons at bay behind tight lips. When they broke, her words were murderous. “What did you just say to me?”

“Nothing you haven’t already asked yourself. I’m not one of your soldiers, Luna! I’m not so naïve that I don’t know how much work this will entail. I’m not such a child that I can’t hold my own! I’m capable of so much more than you think I am, but you have to let me show you! Please, just let me show you I can do this!”

When all was said, silence fell like a fog from the rafters. Echoes of her voice returned when they could, full of power and resolve. Luna watched Twilight carefully for a moment, looking her over like Ironhoof had, poking and teasing, searching for a weakness. The briefest flicker of a smile, just barely noticed, was quickly doused by a little shake of her head. “Another time, Twilight. You will have other chances.”

"See? That's just exactly what I’m talking about! You don't listen to me! You shut me out like what I have to say isn’t worth hearing! Celestia always let—"

"Celestia was too lenient with you. I can see that now. She raised you like her daughter, but forgot to wean you. You may have listened to my teachings, but you don’t understand them." She refilled her mug and took a sip, sitting up stiffly. "I was right to question your preparedness. You will remain under my instruction until the embassy is complete, at which time I will reevaluate your standing in my curriculum and decide whether or not you’re ready to be independent. That might mean a year as my student." She peered over her mug. "I can only hope that’s enough time for you to learn at your current pace."

A pen and parchment bobbed lazily through the air and joined Luna at her side. Her pen flashed across the page, every hollow word one more link in the chain holding Twilight eternally bound. Even now, behind her parchment’s veil, Twilight could feel her watching. Waiting for a movement, a challenge, a tear. Something. Anything. Twilight brushed her cheek, took a deep breath, and planted her hooves. A princess never panics.

"No."

The pen stopped scratching. “Excuse me?”

Twilight gripped the floor tighter. “No, Luna. I’m not going to let you do that to me. You're not going to stop me from helping. This is my project, and I have to do it myself. It’s the only way I’ll ever be the princess you want me to be.”

“You will be that princess when I have finished teaching you. I cannot allow you to go off into the world untested.”

“But you’re the only one to blame for me not being ready!” Twilight swiped her cushion away. “I’ve spent my whole life with a nose in a book, researching and testing and wishing I could be someone who makes a difference! Now that I have that chance, I have to see what I can do on my own!”

“I admire your candor, but I don’t have time for it.” Luna enveloped Twilight’s cushion with her magic and returned it to its place, gesturing towards it with her eyes. “Sit down, Twilight. We need to revise your curriculum.”

“No, Luna. You’ve held me back for too long. I can’t keep being your pupil if you won’t let me learn for myself.”

"Are you suggesting I allow you to abandon your studies? Let my instruction go to waste?! Preposterous!" Her eyes narrowed. “I am not my sister, Twilight. Celestia spoiled you by giving you the freedom to pursue whatever you wanted, but as a princess you will learn what is expected of you.”

“I could, if you’d let me try!”

“A princess doesn’t try, Twilight. A princes—”

“ENOUGH!”

Luna slid away, recoiling from Twilight's sudden bark as it slammed against the observatory’s dome. The windows rattled in the briefest pause between her breaths, shaking with the power of her bottled little demons. Now that the plug had been pulled, the rest came roaring out. The sensation was euphoric.

"Enough of your maxims! Enough of your lessons! Enough of you telling me I'm not prepared, I'm not ready, I'm not strong enough or smart enough or willing enough to fight because I am! You’ve done nothing but put me down and hold me back!” Twilight paused. There was no turning back now. “Do you want to know why I really hate you, Luna? It's because you're so narrow-minded that you think the world is inherently evil when it’s not, that ponies need to be told what to do when they don’t! You push me and pressure me, trying to turn me into a reflection of yourself, but you can’t see it’s not working! It never worked! I can't live in a world where I can't make some difference. I couldn't if I tried, and you know why? Because that's what makes it all worth it! That's something worth fighting for! You don't fight for anything but yourself and your dead past, and I'm tired of suffering because of it!"

The room was bathed in silence from tile to rafter, but Twilight couldn’t feel anything. The knocking on the observatory door, Luna’s stunned silence, that tiny smile on her lips. Nothing registered. Nothing clicked. Twilight closed her eyes, took in the stillness, and let everything go.

“I can't keep doing this, Luna. I don't want to live in your world. I want to live in mine, where what I say and do can change things for the better. That's all I've ever wanted, and that's all I've ever hoped you'd want for me. I don’t just want to do better than you, Luna. I need to be better. I have no other choice. I can’t live a life in your shadow. I can't stand by and let you destroy everything I’ve ever dreamed about because you're too scared to realize you're wrong.”

Twilight shrugged, basking in the silence and the calm it brought with it. “If feeling this way means I’ve failed being your student, or if it means I can’t be a princess in your eyes... then go ahead. Take away my crown. Take back these stupid wings. Take away everything you’ve ever given me because I don’t need it! I don’t need to be constantly torn down or made to feel worthless! I don't need your outdated, self-defeating pessimism! I don’t need your baseless hatred of me! I don’t need your cynicism! I don't need your disapproval! I can't take one more second of you, so if I have to give up everything you ever gave me to prove you wrong, then fine! I don’t need them and I don’t need you!”

The second it had all come out into the open, the pall turned absolute. The candles on the table wavered, pulsing with the slow march of the ghosts brewing behind Luna’s eyes. Like a silent sentinel she sat, emotionless and calm. The quiet was the worst of all. Her lungs inflated and deflated in perfect rhythm, but it was almost as if she wasn’t even there.

Twilight held her eyes on Luna's horseshoes, petrified. How could she have said something so mean? What had possessed her to react so violently? Twilight sniffled and wiped her nose dry, trailing slime across her foreleg with a pang of horror. Her outside was as disgusting as her inside had become.

"I'm sorry, Luna,” Twilight muttered, fighting back tears. “I am so, so sorry. Please, I didn’t mean to say that! I didn't mean it!"

Luna shook her head slowly. "No, child. You meant every word you just said."

"No! I'm sorry! I take it back! I didn’t—”

Luna raised her hoof, and all at once Twilight knew it was over. The wind chattering against the windows died down. The lights dimmed. Her eyes remained closed, her breaths even and controlled. Then, slowly, with all the grace in the world, Luna opened her eyes.

"Is this truly how you feel?"

Twilight’s heart caught in her throat. “I... I think so.”

"You must be sure," Luna said hurriedly, rising quickly to her hooves. "Do you believe in what you have said? Do you?!"

Her stoic eyes trembled when Twilight gave a tiny nod, and with every quiver Twilight's resolve crumbled. This was too far past the breaking point. "Please don't be mad at me, Luna. I don't want you to be mad. I just needed you to know the truth about how I feel."

"And now I know, don't I?" She turned away, facing the door. "Have you anything further to add before I make my judgment, Twilight Sparkle?"

The tiny, radiant tear flashed down her cheek and splashed on her collar. Twilight watched it, stunned. "Luna, please..."

"Do you?"

This was it: the end of everything. Closing her eyes would spare her a portion of the pain. "No, Luna. That's everything."

"Very well." A wing unfurled towards the door. "If you desire to prove your worth, you need look no further than that door. Beyond, you will find whatever aide you'll require for your embassy's construction." Her wing clasped tight to her side. "You will not find it here with me. You have passed my test. Henceforth, you will no longer be considered my student, but a true princess of Equestria."

Twilight sat in shock. The door to her cage had been opened, but never had she seen Luna so dismal. Twilight steadied herself and killed the glorious beating of her breast with a sad smile. How could she be so happy, to see Luna so heartbroken? “Luna, I... I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing, but grant me one last liberty. I have already assembled a committee worthy of this task. There are none more competent than they. It is the only concession you must make to me. Everything else is yours.” A widespread wing gently swept Twilight closer to the door. “Celestia may believe in the merits of words, but I believe in the power of action. It is easier to fight for your ideals than to live up to them, Twilight. If you wish to explain, show me by following through on your promises.” Luna’s hoof planted itself on Twilight’s breast. “Show me the world you want to live in, and prove to me it’s one worth fighting for.”

In the following silence, the room glowed. The track of Luna’s tear melted away as slowly, without warning, her cheeks flushed like her sister’s sun, full of love and pride. Twilight sat in awe; Luna was gorgeous now her walls had been dashed. Her eyes shone and pierced Twilight’s core, stoking the fires of her heart with every hope she’d deferred until this one glorious moment. Now, when she allowed them to come rushing into the room, it took everything Twilight had to keep herself from bursting. Floating over the floor towards the door was effortless, but the closer she came the harder it seemed to bridge the gap. Who knew what lay beyond, save Luna? Twilight stopped, hearing nothing but a sickening silence. “What if I can’t handle this? What if I don’t get along with them?”

Luna chuckled and gracefully stepped to her side. “Ever unsure of yourself. Celestia saw it too, when first she took you under her wing. You have always been indecisive, but I have never seen you so sure of anything as much as you are of this project. You are capable of so much more than I’ve given you credit for, but I’m not the princess to whom you need to prove yourself.” With the gentlest of hooves Luna brushed Twilight’s chin, bringing it up into the light of her moon. “You’ve already shown me your strength. Now, it’s time to show yourself.”

With a final smile Luna focused her magic on the door and cracked it open, breaking the room’s seal like a musty tome. Cool, fresh air billowed in, bearing notes of jasmine and honey. If she could drown in their fumes, death would almost be worth it. And that smell... it seemed familiar. It smelled just like home.

A glimmering spearhead and the disheveled mane of Shining Armor popped from around the doorframe. He surveyed the room, paced his way inside, then snapped to attention. His legs wobbled, but he held his head up proudly. “Your Highness, I’ve brought your guests. Shall I invite them inside?”

“No need, Captain. Twilight shall retire with them for the evening. She has a long night ahead of her still.” A little brush of Twilight’s back with the tip of her feathers was Luna’s signal; there was nothing further to discuss. With another little pop a second steaming teapot materialized from the aether. “I will remain in my study. The night is young, and much has yet to be done. You have my thanks, Captain. Get some sleep, the both of you.” A teacup filled itself and drifted to her lips. “Oh, and Twilight?”

“Yes?”

Her eyes glimmered, her growing smile framing her face with all the light of life. “Try not to party too hard.”

“Party? Who’s throwing a par—”

Twilight’s tongue grew heavy in her mouth. Luna would never say anything so carefree without just cause, and there could only be one cause worthy of so precise a word. Turning slowly towards her brother, she found that knowledge given life in the form of a knowing smile; a little glint in his eyes, a sign he too was in on the plan. She looked at Luna through watery eyes only to find her nodding towards the door, her smile wide. Breathlessly, Twilight turned, brushed her dress, straightened her wings, and applied her magic on the door, pushing with everything she had.

And there, as the door creaked slowly open, stood her friends.

In the midst of their huddle stood Rarity, resplendent in an evening gown of deep crimson. She held herself poised and proud, hair glistening and supple in defiance of the tousled, unkempt mane of the Rainbow Dash at her side. With wings spread wide Rainbow gripped Rarity close, sparing a wing for a demure, dainty Fluttershy. Applejack stood closest to the door, her braids shining, the end of her tail flecked in mud as it always was. Time held itself at bay, giving Twilight the opportunity to take each of them in. This little moment was bliss, and every time she looked at them in turn this little moment stretched on.

It could've lasted longer had Pinkie Pie not taken one look, shot a glance at Rarity, rocketed through the air, and tackled Twilight in the tightest hug she’d ever given.

"Oh my goodness, Twilight!" Pinkie screamed, swinging Twilight through the air like a doll, giggling all the while. "We missed you so much! You look so pretty! How did today go? Was everything alright? Did those big, mean zebras play nice?"

"For the most part," Twilight said tremulously, clutching her close to her heart. Pinkie’s spinning must have drained the blood from her system; every part of her was ice-cold. Through her tears she watched as the others left their places and trotted towards them, dumbfounded. At least the feeling was mutual. "I can't believe you came to see me! When did you guys get here? Why didn't you come find me?"

"They came shortly following the midday banquet," Luna said from her cushion. "I found them wandering the halls, looking for you." She chuckled at the memory. "I'd have thought they'd be acquainted with Canterlot by now, considering all the times they've been here."

Applejack started slightly at that. "We just got a little turned around is all. We knew y'all were busy, but not that busy." She snuck in after Pinkie and held Twilight close, keeping a wary eye on Luna. "Besides, even if we had found Twilight, I'd've probably suggested to stay out of the way. Wouldn't want to throw a wrench in the works, now would we?"

"Of course not. That was very courteous of you, Applejack."

From within her embrace Twilight could feel her muscles tense. "No problem, princess," she said evenly, surrendering her place to Fluttershy and Rarity. Placing herself on the nearest wall, she surveyed the rest of her friends and waited. "It was the least we could do."

"I bet you're surprised to see us, huh?" Rainbow said lightly. She snuck in for a hug and backed off quickly. She was just as tense as Applejack had been, but as she joined Applejack by the door her beaming smile assuaged any ill will. It had almost hidden her limp as she'd walked away.

Twilight held back her questions. Rainbow might still have been too stubborn to explain. "Of course I am, Rainbow. You all said you couldn't come, and now you're all here! I thought you guys were busy!"

"We all were, darling," Rarity said. "But some things are more important than daily trivialities, and there's nothing more important to us than making sure you're taken care of."

"But what about Fashion Week? You look forward to that every year, and Fancypants said he had an offer for you. You wouldn't stop talking about it for days!"

For the briefest second, Rarity was at a loss. "Things... changed, Twilight. I made a decision. Fancypants can wait for another time, but not you. You're my dearest friend. I could never leave you high and dry." Her eyes flicked over Twilight’s shoulder. “Princess Luna, I’d like to thank you for all your hospitality. Truly, words cannot describe how grateful we are to you for letting us see our Twilight. If there’s anything we could ever do to repay you...”

“That’s quite alright, Rarity,” Luna said, raising a hoof. “I know how much you mean to her, and she to you. You are family in these walls, and we would never let you go wanting. Think not on it.”

“But I insist!” Rarity turned quickly towards the others to find them all nodding furiously in agreement. Twilight marvelled at the sight. Rarity held such sway when reciprocity was her foremost concern. There couldn’t have been a better Element of Generosity. “There must be some way we can repay you! How about another dress? A brooch, perhaps? Is there anything we might do to help tomorrow morning? I’m sure it will be busy. We’d love to pitch in!”

“I require nothing from you,” Luna stated calmly. “Twilight? Might you have a task they can aid you in? They seem eager.”

The smile on Rarity’s face was boundless, paling the others’ in sheer feverish excitement. Twilight couldn’t help but smile back. “I think I might have an idea... if you’ll permit it, that is.”

“I am no longer in a position to judge your actions,” Luna said happily. “Your decisions are your own now, remember?”

Just that little reminder sent her heart soaring from its cage, and the view from that lofty height was elation incarnate. Twilight thought for a moment, looked over the girls, and then returned her attention to Luna with a little bow. “With the embassy proposed and the committee assembled, I believe it might put some parties at ease knowing we don’t mean to back down. I think having the Elements of Harmony behind the project might let Ironhoof know we mean business. If they were to join us on stage when we announce our intentions tomorrow, it might make ponies more comfortable and a little more generous with their help.” She turned to the girls. “Would all of you comfortable with that?”

Rarity bounded towards Twilight and swept her up in another hug, pulling her tight to her breast. A shiver of excitement ran through her, followed quickly by little jump back and a quick trot in place. “Of course we would! That sounds perfect, just perfect! Ladies, how does that sound?” They nodded quickly in agreement, their eyes filled with expectation. Rarity bowed before Luna. “We’d love to join you, if you’ll have us.”

“I would enjoy nothing more. If Twilight thinks it will be of use, then I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning for rehearsal.” Her teacup floated back to her side. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is a comet that requires my attention. Goodnight, ladies.” As soon as she returned to her eyepiece, there was no doubt there would be nothing gained by lingering. Rarity drew Twilight close. “Let’s get you fed, dear. You look positively famished.”

Twilight’s stomach gurgled in response, earning a little smile from Luna and everyone present. Finally, the end was in sight. That night of abandon was finally within reach. Passing through the doorframe in silence, Twilight sat in wonder of this glorious change in circumstance. A few hours to catch up with her friends, another few to rest, and soon she would be unveiled to the waking world as a princess in her own right. Another glorious jewel on Equestria’s crown.

And it was all thanks to Luna.

Her pace slowed to a crawl and finally stopped, earning a confused look from Rarity and the others. “You go on ahead,” Twilight said quietly. “I’ll meet you in the room.”

“You’re not coming?”

“Not right away. I have something I need to ask.”

Rarity nodded her acquiescence, but it was obvious she disapproved. Another few minutes won’t kill them, Twilight thought as she retraced her steps. Pushing the door open once more, she found Luna right where she said she’d be: gazing through her telescope, lost in her cosmos. Hopefully another intrusion wouldn’t change her mind.

“How long have you known?”

Luna withdrew from her telescope and set her parchment down. “Known what?

“They said they were looking for me when you found them, which means you knew they were here before the Elder’s Council. You asked Shining Armor to bring them here, but you did that before... before giving me your final test. Before I yelled at you. They were coming here to meet with me before I even had your blessing.” Twilight raised her eyes to find Luna’s smile mirroring her own. “So when did you know I was ready for this?”

Luna nodded to herself, lost in thought. “The zebras are formidable warriors. Even Celestia and I take great caution when working with them. They are easy to anger, but nigh impossible to calm. Of those living, Lord Ironhoof is by far the most fearsome. You knew this to a degree, and still you faced him down. Never have I seen a zebra’s ire doused so quickly.” Luna beamed, her eyes twinkling. “It was then I knew you were ready.”

"Then why didn't you tell me that then?"

"It wasn't something for me to tell. Your abilities, your strength... these are traits which cannot be explained to you by another. I saw them long before I gave you my test. I gave you my test so that you might see them too."

A smile formed on Twilight's lips, but it felt so foreign. This was a happiness she hadn't earned, not for all her actions against Luna. Twilight rubbed her leg with a forehoof. "I'm sorry, Luna. I never meant to hurt your feelings or call you worthless. I don't want to push you away."

"And you haven't, but you must understand your role in this world. You will fail in your aims if you do not know what you are capable of. This is something all princesses must understand. If knowing what you fight for required you to stand against me, then so be it. There wouldn't have been another way, and none so effective."

"But I didn't mean to make you feel unimportant!"

"No, Twilight," Luna said proudly. "You have done me a great service! A student does wrong by their teacher if they remain but a student. For you to strive to be better than me is all I've ever wanted, all any teacher could ever want. A wounded pride is a small price to pay for such joy. Never have I been so sure about my decision."

Somehow, as it hadn't been before, the observatory glowed from every corner, filled with the wonder forgotten from the glory days of her youth. Perhaps Luna hadn't abandoned it after all. "Do you really think I'm ready?"

Luna gave her a little wink and turned back to her eyepiece. "Do you really need to ask?"

Laughter rang out down the hall, bringing warmth to the empty corners and the wooden door beneath her hoof. "I guess not," Twilight said, brushing the doorframe. "Goodnight, Luna... and thank you."

Luna turned, smiled, and bowed her head low. "Until tomorrow, Princess Sparkle."

With a final smile Twilight sealed the door closed. The rest of the way passed in a blur of excitement, every banner gilded in vibrant hues, every sound crisp and clear. Alone in the hall, Twilight closed her eyes, savoring the sensation and the promises to come.

Tomorrow would be a day she’d never forget.

"You should’ve seen the look on his face, Rarity. He was this close to running him through!"

"Surely he wouldn't have done something quite so rash!"

"I don't know," Twilight said, shaking her head. "I've never seen him quite so mad before. Had I not been there, I think he might have actually drawn blood."

"Would've done that zebra right," blurted Rainbow Dash from the corner. With decanter in hoof the remnants of a dark russet brew were poured out and placed tenderly on an outstretched wing. She stepped gingerly over a sleeping Applejack, earning a Stetson-covered groan as her tail swept past her chin. "Shining Armor should've given him a little scratch. That would’ve taught him a lesson."

"It would've started a war. As much as I agree with you, that's the last thing we want."

Rainbow Dash shrugged. "Whatever it was, it doesn't sound like he was thinking too clearly. Maybe he's just beat? Poor guy must be wiped out from all that soldier stuff."

Rarity plucked a glass from Rainbow's wing and drifted it to her side. "Rainbow's right. The Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard, a prince, a husband, a bodyguard... The poor soul has had a lot on his mind, your safety chief among them. He and his guards must be exhausted!"

Twilight nodded sadly. "What's worse is he's had to send so many out to the Crystal Empire's border to stand watch. We don't have many to spare."

"How many has he kept here in reserve?"

Thinking it over yielded little in terms of quantity. "He said it would be enough for anything. He said we shouldn't worry, that the ones still here were the best. I've never seen them so tired, none more so than him. They’ve all been pulling half day watches, and I don’t think he’s slept at all... but if it helps Cadance sleep he'll do just about anything, even run himself into the ground."

Rarity sipped her drink and smiled. "What a gentleman."

A little snore broke the pall, followed by a rustle of pink as Pinkie Pie's plush mane flipped from her eyes. She'd snuggled up alongside Fluttershy and added her mane to the tangled mass of pink now cascading over the couch. It had taken them five repetitions of every party game in her repertoire before she'd lost steam. She had overdone herself in her efforts to make Twilight happy, almost to the point of annoyance. Twilight couldn't help but smile just thinking about it. It was Pinkie's sign that she truly cared.

Rarity swirled her drink, admiring its clarity. "So, this Ironhoof... How many soldiers does he have, exactly? Surely, a stallion as terrifying and as powerful as he must have quite a few under his command." She nudged Twilight's shoulder, grinning playfully. "A veritable plethora of strapping, striped suitors, perhaps? All at your beck and call?"

Twilight's cheeks flushed violently. "Rarity! I... I don't think... They wouldn't..."

"Please, dear, I'm only teasing!" Rarity slid herself closer, her ears on alert for every salacious detail. "But honestly, how many fine young stallions does our zebra friend have? If he's expecting you to house them, surely he must have a figure."

"I... I honestly don't know." Twilight snagged a glass from the passing Rainbow Dash and hid her blush with a sip. "He didn't sound like it would be such a sacrifice donating a small army, so I can only assume he has many thousands under his command."

"I see." Rarity slumped to her cushion, lost in thought. "Well, it's a good thing he's on our side."

"Not entirely. He may have accepted my proposal, but only because I pressured him into it. I doubt he'll ever consider me a friend, much less an ally. Something tells me he's going to turn on me the first chance he gets. I mean, I nearly—"

A yelp and a crackling snap of glass found Rarity on her hooves, gripping her forehoof like a vice. Glittering shards of glass littered the carpet, flecked with her blood. A flurry of blue swept to her side as Rainbow, towel in hoof, wrapped Rarity's limb with the vigor and precision of a trained professional. In the space of a few seconds her wound was hidden, and after a few seconds more the full weight of what had just happened slammed into awareness.

"Rarity, are you alright? Your hoof and... and your glass, they just—"

"I'm fine," Rarity said, retreating towards the wall. "Please don't worry about me. I've pricked myself with a needle before, Twilight. It's just a scratch, nothing some antiseptic and a fresh bandage won't fix!" She waved Rainbow closer and draped her injured hoof over her neck, using her as a crutch towards the minibar in the corner. Twilight followed them out, watching them sadly. It was hard to tell who was limping more.

Picking the glass from the carpet earned her more than a few nicks and scratches, but watching the jigsaw puzzle of glass take shape on the nearest table was encouraging. Every shard was accounted for, save one. From over in the corner she could hear Rarity wincing violently, bearing the pain as Rainbow doused her hoof with whatever drink was closest. The fire was lit, throwing Twilight back into the hunt for her final piece. She'd be damned if her night of abandon ended with another preventable injury.

Straining her magic, the couch bearing Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy hovered quietly into the air and bobbed overhead. Twilight spied her prize burrowed into the fabric and wrapped it up in her magic. Gingerly replacing the couch, she rushed to the table and slid the final piece into place. One problem down. Now, to clean up the blood Rarity had left behind.

A wipe of the tiles and a few dabs on the carpet absorbed most of Rarity’s blood. Twilight slid the reformed glass off the table and into the towel, bundling the entire thing with a wary eye for any missed pieces. The trash bin by the minibar was closest to Rarity and completely unused. Hopefully she was feeling better by now.

Twilight carefully placed her bundle in the bin, watching the edges unfurl and the glass’s glimmer reflect the light. Rarity's blood caked the larger pieces, and the towel was equally stained. From this angle, under the glare of the lights, her blood looked... It was almost...

Twilight froze. "Rarity, what's going on?"

The two mares by the minibar turned in tandem, Rarity's smile stretched wide. "Nothing, dear! Rainbow has done a splendid job. Nothing for you to worry ab—"

Her eyes flicked to the towel bobbing quietly in the air. Twilight stared silently at it in horror, her eyes devoid of understanding. Everything she’d known had escaped through her gaping mouth. Her breathing was laborious. Her limbs were shaking.

Her towel was stained with evergreen blood.

Twilight turned, and in a cyan blur Rainbow was upon her, howling with pain as Twilight’s jaw slammed into her forearm. Stars erupted as her head collided with the tile. She bucked and kicked against Rainbow’s underbelly, but still she held her down, her entire weight pressing squarely on Twilight’s ribcage. Another fruitless kick against Rainbow’s hindleg earned nothing more than a hoof on her neck, pinching her windpipe. The stars swimming in her vision pulsed with every cacophonous heartbeat. The edges of Twilight’s vision faded to black as death snuck in. Only Rainbow would be present to witness that spark of life leaving her.

Just when she sat teetering on the precipice of darkness, Rainbow’s weight unloaded. Thick, sweet air screamed into Twilight’s lungs, sending her convulsing into an agonizing battle for every drop of that precious gas. Rolling to her stomach, Twilight strained against her own will to regain her senses.

A porcelain-white hoof stepped daintily in front of her. A limb quivered, its bandage slicked in swipes of emerald. Something hard, glass perhaps, ruffled her hair and matted it down to her scalp. The sensation of Rainbow’s breath on her neck was wet and frigid; somewhere, something was bleeding. Through her panting she could hear Rarity chuckling to herself in triumph.

“Rarity, please! I don’t want to d—”

“Shut up!” Rarity snapped viciously, pressing her head down harder. A hoof found its way to the side of her horn, grating against its ridges. Twilight shivered uncontrollably. There was only one way this would end.

“No, please! Rarity, think about what you’re doing! Please, I’ll do anyth—”

“What did I say?”

Twilight sealed her eyes shut, silently trembling in horror. “That’s better,” Rarity crooned. The tension alongside her horn eased. “Now be a good girl and stay still. This will all be over soon.”

Through her blood-matted hair Twilight watched Rarity smile lovingly down at her. Rarity would never be capable of something like this, not in a million years. There was a force behind her eyes so horribly unnatural Twilight couldn't help but be entranced. They flashed turquoise, just for a moment. She’d seen those eyes before.

Another voice, this one deeper, rang out behind her. “Shall I wake the others?”

“No need for that,” Rarity replied. “Let them rest. We’ll need their strength tomorrow. Restrain her until the task is complete. We’ll deal with her then. She won’t make much of a fuss... will you, sweetheart?”

The rough fibers of a rope snaked their way under her legs and sealed them tightly together. Rarity’s lips intimately brushed her hair, her hot breath bathing her neck with waves of prickling horror. Twilight nodded as furiously as she could through the debilitating, necrotic stench. Please, just make it stop...

“Good. Do as you’re told, or I’ll snap that horn off and put it places you never thought it could go. Am I understood?”

Twilight bit her lip and nodded, struggling against the primal howl building up in her throat. It was a struggle Rarity noticed. She giggled horribly, stepping quietly away towards the far wall. “Gag her. I don’t want to listen to her sniveling. Lock her in the closet, and make sure no one has any reason to go looking for her.”

“Of course, milady.”

Rarity’s hoofsteps suddenly stopped, and as they did Rainbow gasped. The rope grating against Twilight's legs loosened, and as Twilight twisted her legs she brushed against Rainbow’s skin. She was trembling uncontrollably, her hair standing on end. Twilight raised her eyes, watching Rarity with confusion. What had Rainbow just called her?

“M... milady?”

Rarity wheeled around, her eyes aflame. A scramble of hoof on tile sounded out behind Twilight as Rainbow scurried to the door with a oaken clunk. Twilight turned back towards Rarity to find her gone, a flash of white the only evidence she’d been there.

Rainbow screamed as a sickening wet snap echoed around the room. Another snap. Another blood-rending scream. A bloody bundle of sky-blue fur sailed through the air, slamming against the far wall. Rainbow’s body slumped to the floor, her wings jumbled beneath her. She struggled to rise, but gained no purchase on the blood-slicked tile. Her wings flopped worthlessly at her side, attached by threads of tendon. Bile swam in Twilight’s mouth as she turned her head away.

Rarity stepped delicately over Twilight’s head and tiptoed carefully towards Rainbow. A bottle of champagne bobbed delicately at her side. She drew near to her prey, proud and refined. Twilight closed her eyes and turned her head away. Don’t look. Don’t look. Please, don’t look...

A whimpered plea, a sickening crunch, and Rainbow fell silent. Twilight opened her eyes, struck dumb by the stillness. Rarity stepped lightly away and faced Twilight, calm and collected, the bottle at her side intact. Rarity wiped her hooves, smearing her chest in emerald. Rainbow’s blood matched her eyes perfectly.

She smiled, her fangs glistening in the candlelight.

Before Twilight had a chance to scream, the world erupted with a blinding white pain from her temples and the sound of broken glass. She never felt her head hit the floor before the world went dark, sinking away into oblivion.

Chapter Four: The Daughter of Darkness

Chapter Four:

The Daughter of Darkness

—

"I've sent out the order to liquidate the northern garrisons. Accounting for time spent in transit and redistribution, every available soldier will be in Canterlot within the week. By that time, the castle will be impenetrable. Celestia will have every able-bodied soldier at my disposal watching her around the clock.”

“What about the injured ones?”

“Cadance and Zecora are overseeing their care, but progress is slow. Their Medic Corps can patch up wounds and broken ribs well enough, but for those the changelings captured? Those their brothers thought dead? They feel victimized, singled out... scared. Angry. Cadance is doing everything in her power to spread love and camaraderie, but she can't keep answering their questions with silence. They demand justice, but more than that they demand an explanation. As of now, I don’t know what to tell them.”

As she thought it over, neither did Twilight. The attack on Celestia, the battle in the ballroom, Luna’s abduction... There was no concrete explanation for the savagery that had plunged its blade deep into the heart of Equestria and left her stunned. What there was was one immutable fact: the battle was far from over. Be it carried on the buzzing wings of changelings or the unified march of zebra warriors, something was coming to finish what it had started. Looking around the Hall of Heroes and the makeshift hospital erected along the walls, Twilight couldn’t help but feel Canterlot’s collective misery. Should something come, it would meet nothing but an empty castle defended by the dying. An easy target ripe for the slaughter.

“Brother, I know you’re concerned for my safety, but I feel as though your accompaniment could be put to better use here than with me.”

Shining Armor sighed heavily. “We’ve talked about this, Twilight. You can’t run off without someone protecting you, no matter how much you don’t want it. No matter how guilty you feel. You’re traveling under guard whether you like it or not.” He pulled her closer with a nuzzle on the head. “You’re going to let me protect you somehow.”

Twilight sank against him, utterly spent. Barely midday, and already she felt she’d been awake for a week. The promise of the sleepless journey in store only made her feel worse. But at least under guard there was a chance to recuperate, and even one more set of untrained eyes might find something that would lead to Luna and a cure. Twilight nodded begrudgingly. “I know you will.”

“Leave it to us,” he said, pulling her upright. He nodded to the far door. “You worry about yourself and Luna, and I’ll worry about Celestia.”

Twilight fell into step beside him. “I’m assuming you took the liberty of organizing my guardians without telling me, right?”

"Of course I did,” he said, smirking. “They're prepared and equipped in the foyer as we speak. They await your inspection."

Twilight nodded. “And what about Ironhoof? Is he a problem you can handle?"

"Our best diplomats are preparing to set out for the Zebra capital. If they can keep him docile and his concerns addressed, they should buy you as much time as you need."

They walked together in silence past the stained-glass windows, rays of chromatic light breaking on their shoulders. It was an odd feeling; those windows depicting the great exploits of Canterlot's heroes had never seemed so fleeting as they did now. She'd never taken the time to really appreciate them. Now, as their collective silence grew unbearable, all Twilight wanted was a few seconds alone to commit them to memory. Her stomach twisted at the thought. If she failed, was that just what they would become?

"I want reports as they come in: updates on Celestia's condition, any correspondence with Ironhoof, or anything else you would alert Celestia or Luna about."

He gawked at her curiously. "How?"

"Spike," she said, though more to the carpet than to him. "Please don't tell him where I've gone. I love him more than anything, but he... he’s too young to understand. He’ll beg you, argue with you, maybe even fight you to get to me. But please, don't tell him. If I lose him to despair too..." She brushed her cheek dry and chuckled. "Don't let him give you any sass, either. He can get a little cheeky without me around."

“It’ll be chaos around here when you leave, Twilight. Are you sure Canterlot is the best place to keep him? I doubt Cadance and I will have time to babysit.”

“He can handle himself.” Ponyville came into view through the far window, but within a few steps it was gone. She shook off the sour feeling. There would be time later to long for home. “Give him a task, and he’ll see it done. He’s the best assistant a girl can ask for.”

Her words died away, leaving Canterlot utterly silent. All the life had been stolen away from the once-vivacious castle. Hospitality had been shuffled off in favor of stoic silence, a warm hearth for a sharpened spear. This was a castle no longer, but a fortress. Two thousand years’ peace gone in a heartbeat. Now, only the looming prospect of war rang through the air with every dour hoofstep. Celestia’s promise had been broken. Only time would tell if it would be renewed. They rounded the corner and made their way down the stairs in the entryway, ignorant of the confetti and flower petals ground deep into the carpet. A trio of armor-clad soldiers snapped to attention as she came into view. A wagon laden to its brim sat behind them, its harness jangling impatiently. Twilight gave the three of them a nod, then pondered the carpet again. Shining Armor returned their salute, then gave her a little nudge. Twilight raised her head and tried her hardest to smile. Don’t let them see you cry...

Shining Armor nodded at one tall, grey unicorn stallion at the fore. “Are these your selections, colonel?”

“They are.” He swept off his helmet and stepped forward, and as he snapped to attention Twilight swore the castle trembled. Gilded blue plating clanked on the tile as he took an elegant bow, the rattling of chain links adding a softness to his otherwise horrifically imposing airs. An icy mass of blue-grey hair poured over his shoulders like a glacier melting in the sun. Her eyes fell on the halberd slung over his back, and soon she recognized him as the blood-stained warrior who'd saved her from before. There was no denying that he, decades her senior, possessed an unshakable sense of authority. It’s a good thing he’s on our side, she thought. Had he been an enemy, Canterlot would’ve been sure to fall.

“Milady, I am humbled to make your acquaintance,” the stallion said, still bowing. “I am a colonel in command under your brother. My name is—”

“Vanguard.” Twilight made her way down the stairs and stood before him. Even with his back bowed he was monstrously tall, a veritable wall of muscle encased in steel. Twilight bid him rise with a bow of her own. “I remember you. You saved me during the battle, didn’t you?”

“To say I saved you would be a gross overstatement. If it pleases you I will claim as such, but such is my duty. My life is yours, milady, and your enemies mine. I am honored to be in your service in these grave times.”

“Well spoken." He backed away and returned to the company of his soldiers: the pegasus archer with his harness of bronze, and the tempestuous red-crested stallion she'd battled alongside. They shared a brief flicker of acknowledgment and little smiles, then resumed their stances under Vanguard's glare. Twilight looked both of them over, then turned to Vanguard. “Has Shining Armor informed you of my mission?”

“Yes, milady. We are to serve as your escort, protecting you from harm and aiding you in whatever capacity we can.” He shot a look at the closest soldier, who snapped quickly back to attention. He shook his head disdainfully. “I only regret that our numbers are few.”

“Any more, and we’d lose precious time.” Twilight's eyes softened. “I'm sure you’ve been informed of Princess Celestia’s condition.”

“We have."

She almost missed the little pained looks crossing their faces. They’ve been well-trained, Twilight thought, watching them. It would do them well to keep their emotions in check. But most of all me. Misery's a weight we can't afford to carry. “Then you understand there's little time to waste.” They nodded in unison. “Very well. I’ll require one of you to travel to the town of Ponyville and gather some things for me. Which of you can do this fastest?”

Vanguard looked to the soldier on his left. “Private?”

“It would be my pleasure, sir.” The archer stepped lightly forward and gave him an elegant bow, but as he rose to meet Vanguard’s vicious glare he wheeled to Twilight and hid his flushed cheeks with another bow. “I mean, yes ma’am! Of course, ma’am! What would you like me to do?”

“There’s a library near the center of town. You’ll find a dragon inside.” His eyes flared with panic, but Twilight shook it away with a wave of her hoof. “Don’t worry, he’s completely harmless! His name is Spike, and he’s my assistant. I need you to bring him here to Canterlot, then rendezvous with us at the ruins of the old zebra embassy. I trust you know where that is?”

He nodded. A little flash, and a parchment appeared at her side. “I’ve also made a list of books I need collected. We’ll need each and every one of these, so make sure you double- and triple-check everything.” The parchment unfurled and rolled to his hooves. He stared at its length, flabbergasted. Twilight blushed and gave him a little shrug. “I hope it won’t be too heavy.”

“Not at all, ma’am." He rolled the parchment up with a hoof, tucked it beneath his armor, and unfurled his wings. “Anything else?”

“Please be discreet. We here in the castle are the only ones who’ve been informed of the state of our princesses. We can’t allow ponies to panic. Keep calm, and make sure you don’t give anyone reason not to do likewise.”

With a curt nod he rocketed into the air, gathering momentum with a few loops before slipping out an open rafter window and out of sight. Twilight watched him depart with an eye on Vanguard. “Can he be trusted with his task?” Vanguard grunted, but said nothing. Her skin prickled. Am I being lied to already? She rallied herself with a little stamp of her hoof, then turned to her brother. “Are you sure you and Cadance will be alright without these three?"

"We'll manage. Much will be lacking without my second-in-command, but you’ll need him more than I will." He and Vanguard shared a brief bow of the head. Only Shining Armor seemed invested in it. "Vanguard's duties will fall to me, and Cadance will help with the slack. When Celestia recovers, she'll be able to chip in and help us fix what that mare did to us."

The ground beneath Twilight’s hooves seemed to shiver at the recollection. That such a foul soul should be given quarter beneath them... Whatever her fate, she wouldn't be missed, not for everything she'd done. But what of those things she knew? The promise of some answers slowly pushed everything else aside. If she’s going to wait in the dungeon, why not put her to some use?

"What will you do with her?"

"That devil will get whatever she deserves. Celestia and Luna were always responsible for exacting justices against enemies of the crown. But with them gone..." He shook his head slowly, a dismal weight on his brow. “I don't want to become an executioner, Twilight, but I don’t see any other way. She’s too dangerous to let live.”

She could sense his honest reluctance hidden somewhere beneath his anger. A tiny portion of her agreed with him. Curiosity dominated the rest. "I’ll work something out," she said plainly. "Lead the way. I'd like to talk with her."

Vanguard and his subordinate jumped forward in surprise, but Shining Armor was two steps ahead. "I thought as much," he grumbled, pacifying the two soldiers with a nod. They fell into step as he took his station at Twilight’s side. "Don't think for a second you can fix her like you did Discord. He may be a demigod, but this mare... She’s not of this world. She’s something else entirely."

"I've toyed with monsters before. I can hold my own. Just give me a few minutes to glean as much as I can, and then you can do with her as you will." Shining Armor didn't look confident. Twilight shot him a strong little grin, but as the silence grew something lingered she couldn’t quite place. “What is you’re not telling me?”

Rounding the corner, he trod quietly to a drab, wooden door. He applied his magic and swung it open, revealing stairs into the bowels of the castle. They shared a sideways glance. “You’ll see.”

For all its countless years of sun-lit grandeur, never once had the sun's warmth graced these walls. The slippery staircase down which they tread resembled the throat of a granite leviathan, breathing cool and deep, coating the walls with dew. Flames flickered in the cornices overhead and granted some reprieve from the unnatural chill. Little crystals glimmered in the cracks of the walls, fearlessly casting their soft light into the crushing blackness. Shining Armor paced calmly at the fore, a brilliant star shedding its light before him. It bobbed and danced playfully overhead, but as he turned another corner it fizzled and died away. The walls expanded, the air grew colder, and the silence became more pronounced. It rang, as though hollow. Soon, the walls disappeared entirely. They had passed through the throat of the mountain as Shining Armor had claimed they would, and as Twilight's eyes grew accustomed to the dark a horrific fascination gripped her. He had warned her of the dungeon’s maw, had made light of what to expect.

He had never mentioned this.

Deep in the bowels of the mountain, untouched by sun or season, the belly of Canterlot grew out into a vast cavern stretching far further than she dared imagine. Here there were stalactites as tall as buildings, salivating for millennia, preparing for the cavern’s morsels. She could make out the tip of the mountain up above, but below it a hole to the center of the world loomed out in the mountain’s heart, leading seemingly into Tartarus itself. Shining Armor drifted a lantern to his side, and as he made his way to the closest stairway the realization of what they were about to do filled her with dread. Twilight began her descent, shuddering at the circumstances. Their aggressor had taken a bite out of Equestria, and the mountain had vengefully swallowed her whole. There couldn’t be a more fitting cell.

At the base of the seventh staircase they stopped to catch their breath. From this level, there was still no evidence the gaping pit had any bottom. Shining Armor gave them a few moments, then pushed onwards for the far end of the ring. They kept up the pace until a grand, shadowy form could be seen standing besides a corridor’s entryway. Shining Armor took a quick trot forward to meet it, and as his lantern drew close it illuminated the cloven-hooved form of a minotaur, his skin and eyes a pure ghostly white. The battle axe in his hand dwarfed even Vanguard, its chipped edges glimmering in the crystals’ glow. As she passed, Twilight gave him a respectful little nod. To her surprise he bowed his head in response, watching her blindly as she tread further into the dark. Twilight shuddered. He won't be the only mystery I'll have to ask Celestia about

Two guards emerged from the shadows as they reached the end of the corridor. Under the dancing flames in the torches above, it was difficult to ascertain which of the two was trembling more. They relaxed as Shining Armor took his place beside them, but not without a sense of unease. Something, somewhere behind the rippling wall of magic before her, was making them uneasy. Twilight seated herself down before the shadows of a lonely cell, listening for a sign. Water dripped from the ceiling in a steady beat, ticking time away. There wasn’t a moment to waste.

“I know you’re in there,” Twilight said calmly. “Please, come out so I can speak with you.” She strained her ears, but no reply came. “I only mean to talk with you,” Twilight said, this time a little stronger. “If you'd just let me have a word with you, you might be able to commute your sentence.” She let her words linger and barely made out the sound of shifting hooves, but still no mare. She turned to Shining Armor who, with a nod, slammed his hoof into the ground, its impact threatening to bring the mountain down upon them.

“By order of Princess Twilight Sparkle, I command you make yourself known! Come into the light and obey! Your princess demands it.”

His order rang through the cavern and petered away, but still no movement. The torches danced on the walls, and as Twilight listened a chill crept through her that even they couldn't dispel. Something was stirring in the dark. The red-crested pegasus at her side could feel it too; he bristled and backed away, joining the other two guards as they braced against the wall. Twilight leaned forward, straining her eyes and ears for anything. Surely something would come.

The darkness obliged.

A single hoof broke through the shadows, but as she stared at it she could feel every part of her gripping her tight, every muscle holding its brothers to keep them from running away in terror. Nothing in all her years had ever looked so familiar, and yet so horrifying, and as her prisoner came into the light Twilight found reason to fear even more. This was no standard changeling drone, nor some twisted pony tainted by dark magic. She was none of those things. Both of those things.

As her prisoner smiled, Twilight saw her for what she truly was: a corpse.

From the tip of her decaying horn to the ends of hooves seemingly gnawed free of flesh, those patches of midnight-purple skin that hadn’t appeared to have melted off were twinged in the sickly green aura of necrosis, a contagion that appeared even now to be eating her raw. In some places, it had succeeded in consuming her straight to the bone. In others, merely her muscles were exposed. A patchy, haphazard tangle of turquoise mane obscured only slightly the scoured surface of her chest, the beating of her twisted heart thumping horribly against a swath of skin as thin as paper. One of the guards retched violently behind Twilight, and as the corpse-mare turned a rotting cheek to revel in his illness Twilight felt compelled to join him. Only a few cords of muscle and rotting flesh lay between her and what appeared to be the mare's teeth, each of them filed to points. She turned and faced Twilight fully, her teeth grating together violently. “You beckoned?”

No matter how she tried, there would be no returning her eye contact. Twilight focused instead on the tattered remnants of her prisoner's nose, trying her hardest not to scream. “I never beckoned. I only asked to speak with you, and I wish to do so politely. My name is Princess Twilight Spa—"

"Oh, I'm well aware of who you are."

How it was that her voice was so crisp despite her decomposition troubled Twilight in more profane ways than one. "Then you're probably aware of just what kind of trouble you're in.”

“Funny. I was going to say the very same thing.”

“Silence!” Vanguard's jolted forward, his halberd unsheathed, but he met Twilight’s hoof instead. She shook her head, and without another word he retreated. The glimmer of magic surrounding his halberd fizzled away. Twilight watched him until he had calmed himself fully, then turned to her prisoner. “Being my guest, I would ask for your forgiveness for his outburst... but I’ve seen how you treat your hosts.”

“I’d have thought a bottle to the head would've made remembering your obligations as a hostess a bit difficult.”

For some profane reason, Twilight couldn’t help but smile. “I had a feeling that was you. Only a coward locks their enemies in a closet rather than deal with them face-to-face.”

“What say you, then, of those that can’t even move to save their fellow princesses? Are those guards of yours aware that you had a chance to save Celestia, and failed? Do they know you were too scared to even try?” A collective pall lowered over the room as the guards looked at Twilight, then down to their hooves. Twilight’s lips curled into a snarl. Her prisoner stretched her grin to match. “This isn’t a game you desire to play, Twilight, for I am a master of both lies and truths. It’s in my nature.”

“Prove it, then. Tell me the truth, and I might be inclined to be lenient with you. Do you deny your involvement in the attempted murder of Princess Celestia?”

“I do not,” the mare said happily.

“And do you deny your attempt to kidnap Princess Luna?”

What was left of the mare’s eyebrow cocked. “Very poor choice of words, princess, for I succeeded in that as well.” A burgeoning smile ripped her lip, sending a trickle of blood down her chin. “Tut tut, Twilight. It doesn’t do you well to lie.”

The mare lapped up the blood, sending shivers down Twilight’s spine. It took a little prod from her brother to bring herself around again. “As a princess, it falls to me to decide your fate. My Captain of the Guard believes you should be sentenced here for the rest of your natural life."

"He means to have me executed, to deliver his justice as I delivered the Usurper’s. Another lie, princess. Two for two.”

The mare’s thoughts were more collected than her body was. "Very well,” Twilight said quietly, nodding to Shining Armor. The wind left his sails, and with a returned nod he ceded his hold on Luna’s justice to her. Twilight returned to her prisoner, her back weighed just a little bit heavier. Even free from her bondage, Luna’s chains would never be shaken free. “I will decide your fate, as Luna or Celestia would. You are guilty, by your own admission, of crimes against Equestria, crimes which will earn you a life sentence in this cell. Be that as it may, I would like to believe you're capable of remorse for your actions. If you tell us what you've done with Princess Luna, I might find reason to allow you some liberties to make your stay in Canterlot less miserable. You won't be released, but you will, perhaps, be allowed some time outside. Would this be fair?"

The steady drip-drip-drip of the ceiling was all Twilight heard. The prisoner never made a sound, nor looked as though she cared. “I’m only going to give you this opportunity once,” Twilight said calmly, but it barely seemed to matter. Her lips were pursed, and no airy promises would open them again. Twilight's heart sunk as she dusted herself off and turned to the corridor beyond. They were flying blind. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. I only wanted to help you."

She turned to leave, but stopped dead at her prisoner’s icy giggle. “My, my," the mare crooned. "How well she taught you. You truly are her personal student, aren’t you? So courteous, just like she was.”

“Is. You failed to finish your work.”

“I beg to differ. My work has only just begun.”

“How do you hope to continue, trapped as you are?”

“Oh, I have others that do my work for me. So many millions of dutiful little slaves coursing through your dear princess’s bloodstream, bound for that twisted heart of hers.”

“You know nothing about Celestia, especially her heart.”

“Do I not?” The smell of decay leaked through the barrier as she slunk closer. Not even one of Shining Armor’s forcefields could hide such foulness away for long. “Celestia must've been so proud of you when you helped bring that feeble sister of hers under her hoof. She must love you for everything you’ve done on her behalf. For being an Element of Harmony. For being a princess. I was there, you know, feeding off your love for each other. I saw it your eyes. Heard it in your screams. Everything I needed to know was right there. Each of you has a portion of the other's heart, whether you know it or not." She licked her lips and tasted the tip of a fang. "So tell me: when I skewered Celestia like a pig, could you feel my blade tickle you too?"

“You bitch!”

The pegasus soldier at Twilight’s side lunged, roaring at the barrier, but with a flash of light and a crackle of electricity he jettisoned away and slammed against the far wall. Shining Armor helped the soldier to his hooves to the sound of cackling from inside the cell. Twilight stared her quarry down, teeth bared. “Don’t you ever say her name again! Do you hear me?”

The prisoner’s chuckle only grew deeper in her throat. “If only this Twilight could've been there to save her princesses! Where would we be now?” She turned to an invisible audience, her rotting hooves outspread. “Hark, all ye miserable little worms: your princess has revealed herself at last! See her resolve! Revel in her power! Bow before her! Bow! Bow! Bow!”

Joyous screams and merriment filled the dank, dripping halls of the corridor. Empty laughs for an empty room. Twilight watched her sadly. To think this husk of a creature was once like her, and now so lost. She turned to her brother, to Vanguard, and to the others holding back against the wall. No one appeared to regard her with even the slightest shred of sympathy. Turning to her prisoner, Twilight was again at a loss for how to feel. Her brother seemed to have already made up his mind. “This is pointless, Twilight,” he muttered, shooting the prisoner a glance. “She’s too far gone. You’re not going to get anything out of her.”

Twilight nodded, but still something pressed her to advance. There were still questions needing an answer. "What do you expect will happen now that you’ve been captured?”

“I assume Celestia will die, that Luna will break, and that my work shall not have been in vain. As it is, all this is guaranteed! Should I be worried about anything else?”

“Your infiltrators have been defeated, Celestia lives, and you’ve been captured. Every legion of the Royal Guard is coming to bolster our defenses, and I'm personally going out to bring Luna home. Whomever you're fighting for has abandoned you, and if you don't cooperate I can't guarantee your safety. Whatever plan you had has failed. If I were you, I'd be worried about ever leaving this cell."

“Then I’m glad you haven’t the honor of being me.”

“Being belligerent won’t get you anywhere.”

“But it will keep you here,” the mare said, examining her hoof. “Such a predicament you’re in: to beg me for a hint towards saving only one princess, or to venture blindly forth to the death of both. Either way, I find it amusing. How will you proceed, little Twilight? Carefully? Brashly? Why should I help you, when it brings me such joy to see you floundering?” She shot Twilight a sickening smirk. “You should’ve seen Celestia flopping about in her own blood. How oddly appropriate that you, like her, should be a fish out of water."

Twilight held back the advancing pegasus guard with an outstretched hoof. He gave a little growl, then limped back to his place. Twilight shot him a look, then did the same with her prisoner. “Antagonizing us will get you nowhere. If that’s your plan, then you’re wasting your time.”

“My time? By your own decree, I now possess all the time in the world. It is you who choose to linger here.”

“I’m not done with you yet.” Twilight could hear Shining Armor’s hoof tap impatiently. It was a shared anxiousness. “Before I leave, I'd like to know why you thought it necessary to try and kill Celestia.”

"You assume that slaying your princess was the plan."

"What was it then?"

The prisoner's lips pursed. "You will not make a friend of me, girl. You will not buy my voice, just as you will not buy back time."

"I'm not trying to buy myself anything."

"Oh? You don’t wish to purchase the whereabouts of your Luna for the promise of freedom? To buy, ever so ironically, all that time your once-immortal princess now lacks? To prove to these fools that, deep down, you’re truly worthy of that crown on your head? You're a better liar than I if you can blind yourself so thoroughly."

In every impatient tap of their hooves, Twilight could feel the prisoner’s words ring out their truths. With every second their confidence in her faded, Celestia's breaths slowed, and time rolled away drop by drop from the saturated walls. On all accounts, she was right. "Why are you doing this," Twilight whispered. "What drove you to do something so horrible to someone who didn't deserve it?"

For the first time, the prisoner looked at her with something other than disdain. A part of her seemed confused, as if Twilight was speaking a foreign language. "When you come to understand, you'll have wished you'd never asked."

"But she didn't do anything," the red-crested pegasus exclaimed. "Princess Celestia has only ever been kind to those who deserve it. You're just pissed because you lost!"

"And yet your princess bleeds, while I stand unscathed! Mark my words: Celestia will die, be it by my hoof or your precious little Twilight’s. In the face of this truth, I couldn't be more joyous."

The pegasus guard balked. "You're disgusting..."

"No more so than the charlatans to whom you’ve pledged your allegiance. I doubt Celestia would've ever stooped so low as condemning a pony to die, and yet your baby princess seems more than happy to cast everything aside for vengeance. She need only bring down this wall, do to me as I did to Celestia, and prove my point."

Twilight shook her head slowly. "I know better than to indulge you."

"And yet, here you are."

Twilight breathed a little sigh, looked at Shining Armor, and shared a grimace. He was right; there would be nothing gained by trying to change her. Twilight rose and stood her ground. "You have one last chance to provide me with information about Luna's whereabouts. Tell me what I need to know, or stay here alone in the dark. Your choice."

The prisoner spat a bloody gob at her, then grew silent. Twilight looked to Shining Armor. "I want guards here around the clock to make sure she doesn't escape. Do whatever you need to keep her quiet. I don't want her lies spreading." He nodded, resolute. Twilight turned to her prisoner. "I tried to help you, but you seem set on being belligerent. I hope you take some time to think about what you've done while I'm gone. When I return with Luna, I hope to see her justice done with my own eyes." Twilight gave her one last polite bow, then nodded to her escorts. "We've wasted enough time. Let's go."

She turned and walked quietly back down the corridor, focused on the glowing crystals bathing the walls in their ethereal glow. Even as they lay buried in the rock, surely they must've been glowing. Surely there was some promise in all this mess. Twilight looked back, saw the guards readying themselves, listened to the silence coming from the cell, and took a deep breath. Where can we possibly begin?

"And what of your friends?"

Everything grew quiet. The guards looked between themselves in confusion, but as they turned to Shining Armor they found reason to fear. He stared only at Twilight, she at him, their eyes holding the other's, seeing nothing. Blood crashed in her ears. Her hooves went numb. She couldn't even feel herself pace slowly to the foot of the mare's cell. The grinning corpse sat poised like a cat over her prey, sitting tall and unshakably proud. Twilight ground her hooves into the rock below, but not even the mountain could keep her from shaking. "What have you done with them?"

"I took my time with your friend Rarity, personally." The prisoner examined a rotting limb as if judging a hooficure, sending Twilight's heart plummeting. It couldn't have been a coincidence, the way she'd done it. She'd studied. She'd watched her prey, learned from her. Experimented with her. "She begged for me to play with her. Bargained, even. She wanted me to play with her so badly, she couldn't be dissuaded. And what better timing! Rainbow Dash had just given out." She executed another nonchalant glance at her hoof. "It's a shame Rainbow couldn't last longer. She'd had such beautiful plumage."

Twilight forced her tears down and gritted her teeth. “I will only ask you once. What have you done wi—”

“Fluttershy was utterly pitiful,” the corpse-mare continued idly. “It took a few of my strongest infiltrators to peel her from herself, but even then she wouldn’t stop shaking. How fragile she was, like a flower. A delicate little flower. Still, such a set of lungs on her! She cried and screamed, begging for an angel. She pleaded with me to stop. She was so polite, she was. She thanked me when I’d finished with her. Thanked me! Still, even then she—”

"Where have you taken them?!”

Like thunder the walls rumbled with the sound of Twilight's voice, shaking the corridor and its occupants to their cores. The mountain halls echoed her screams, filling every nook and cranny in Canterlot with her howl of rage. With tear-sodden fury. With death. "What have you done with my friends? Answer me, now!"

Her howls petered away to the sound of chuckling. "They're someplace safe, I assure you. What they have to fear is far less than what you'll have to brave to find them. At least they'll have Luna to keep them company, at least for as long as it takes to break her too. In any case, the clock is tick-tick-ticking away. Again, the choice presents itself: wait for me to comply, or guarantee their death. Your choice."

“No! No more choices! You tell me where they are right now, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Cast me down to Tartarus? Inflict your wrath upon me? Have you seen my glory, girl? Does it look like pain fazes me? No, I fear no such things. I fear not you nor your lackeys. Not darkness or pain. Not the blade, the whip, or the chain. I fear nothing, not when I know my Lord of Shadows comes.”

A collective shiver ran them through as the mare’s words slithered quietly back into the shadows of her cell. The guards along the walls fell on their haunches. Vanguard’s brow furrowed. Twilight could only stare numbly into her prisoner’s eyes. There was only one so fitting of a title. Only one so justified in revenge. Only one. “We... We defeated him...”

From the darkness the corpse chuckled, slithering forward with a horrible bloody grin. “Did you honestly think, in all your self-aggrandizing pomp, for all your supposed marvels, that you could ever claim victory over the only true king of these lands? You: a placeholder for defeated liars? No, little girl. My lord is, and has always been, the one true monarch of this kingdom, and in service to a profligate you have defied him. The Shadow comes to reclaim his daughter with all the heat of hell-fire to bring him hence. He comes for me, and unto him I shall deliver his prize: a castle smote upon the rock, the flickering vestiges of your dying star, and you, bent in supplication to the god you've angered. He will make you watch as everyone you've ever met, everyone you've ever loved, and every last memory that brought you comfort turns to ash in your hooves. You will watch as Equestria burns in the fire of your fallen sun, and only when you have cried your last tear and whimpered your last miseries will he grant you the honor of begging him for death. But he will not listen. He will not acquiesce. He will leave you in the ashes of what was, alone with the memory of what could have been. And in that moment, you will be as you made him: broken, empty, and alone. And only in that moment will he ask that I—his hoof, his will, his beloved Penumbra—stoop so low as to grant you your final wish. Only then will I let you join your friends in the fires of his hell.”

She hissed her final word and joined the world's utter silence, wrapping herself in the shadows like a blanket against the cold. And it was, for as a deathly chill ran through the dungeon she was the sole pony not shaking. Twilight watched as her guards stared silently at the ground, their minds churning equally as fast as her own. The red-crested pegasus at her side mumbled quietly in the dark, staring at his hooves for assurance that this was just a dream. But neither this nor the path ahead were certain. Doubt clouded everything. Nothing was guaranteed: not Luna’s rescue nor Celestia’s well-being, not the prisoner’s lies or the horrible promise of her truths. Not even a place to start looking for a way forward. Twilight turned back to the cell and the glittering yellow eyes watching her therein. But we do have a place to start...

Turning to her brother, Twilight gave a little nod. "Fetch your finest muzzle. I'm taking her with me."

Never had two stallions wheeled faster than he and Vanguard. The confusion in their eyes morphed quickly into disbelief, and then to outrage. Her resolution argued otherwise, much to Shining Armor's confusion. "Are you nuts, Twilight?! You're letting her loose?"

"Quite the opposite. She’s to be our guide. If she ever wants to see the light of day again, she’ll have to earn it by helping us."

“Did you not listen to a word she said?”

“I heard everything I needed to hear. If her master wants to find her, then Canterlot is the last place she can be. Taking her with me is how I’m going to keep Celestia safe.”

“But what about you? If he knows the whereabouts of this... this monster... then you’re bringing yourself right to him!”

“But not to Celestia,” Twilight muttered. “He can’t find her like this, or else everything is lost. Far better he go on the hunt to find a worthless princess than a priceless one.”

Shining Armor fell silent, looking at Twilight like Cadance had: utterly heartbroken. "I hate to refuse you of anything," Vanguard offered, stepping between them, "but I cannot agree to this. Death is not so much a possibility as it is a guarantee if you bring her with us. She deserves no mercy. Let me rid you of her, milady. Let me eliminate the problem before she becomes one.”

"Then you may as well kill Celestia and my friends yourself. Throw Luna in the mix, while you’re at it! She's right, can't you see? Every second she sits here in silence is one more second we waste fumbling for an answer that she may have! We have to take her. It's dangerous, but it's our only hope."

"I must protest, milady. I cannot allow so flagrant a risk to your security impede my ability to protect you. It is my job to be—”

"Your job isn't to agree with me. Your job is to obey my orders, and if you can’t do something that simple then I'll find someone who can. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Luna's frigid mantle drew over her shoulders, cooling her rage into a icy-hot blade. Vanguard's grim frown hovered on his lips, but he never got any further. He gave a nigh-imperceptible snort. "Perfectly, Your Grace. Your will be done."

“Establish a camp at the old embassy. I want her under lock and key, incapable of doing anything: no magic, no shapeshifting, and definitely no talking. We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.” Twilight turned to his subordinate. “You and I are going to the Crystal Empire to scour their library. Surely we can find something that will get us on the right path. Gather your things, and meet me in the foyer in ten minutes. Any later, and I’m leaving without you.”

The pegasus gave a quick nod, then zoomed out of the corridor. Vanguard, still seething, gathered the remaining guards and trudged to the livery in the castle above. After a minute, all that remained was herself, Shining Armor, and the glittering eyes of her new guide peering out from the darkness of her cell. Her decomposing body was mercifully hidden from view, but there in her eyes Twilight could see hatred flaming to life. “He’s right, you know,” Shining Armor whispered. “She’s going to be the death of you.”

“I’m well aware,” Twilight snapped. “I don’t need to be reminded.”

He drew close and pulled her chin up, his eyes like their father's. "Twilight, please listen to me. No matter what happens, no matter what paths you take or decisions you make, please remember who you are. She's going to make you question that at every turn. Don't let her get the better of you."

"I think she already has."

"We both know you're a tougher nut to crack than that!" His smile parched her welling tears and made the cavern walls a little brighter. "You're ready for this," he whispered, pulling her into a hug. "I know you're ready. I just hope you know it too."

From within his arms the walls of her fragile world seemed to pull away. The dripping of the cavern remained closeby, its unerring beat upon the stone floor a constant reminder that beyond this abyssal vault lay a world impatiently ticking itself away. If only she could beg for more time. If only something would come to light the path.

Art thou prepared, Twilight?

From beyond her brother's shoulder, her prisoner's bloodshot yellow eyes glinted under the torchlights. Twilight blinked, and for a moment they turned ocean-blue. For a moment they were Luna's eyes, impatient and immovable, just as she'd been before the summit. Before the world fell apart. Beyond the shadows, Luna stood defiantly in her prisoner’s chains, bleeding and bruised, awaiting an answer long overdue. Then, with a blink, Luna was gone. Ocean-blue flashed yellow, then turned swiftly into the green-and-scarlet eyes of the once-dead nightmare. Twilight turned to the comfort of her brother's neckline and cried into his armor as quietly as she could. With Luna as his captive, there would be no reason to wait for permission. There would be no resistance or coordination, no Elements or bulwarks to stem the coming fire. There would be only King Sombra, the Lord of Shadows, his eyes turned on Twilight and Canterlot.

And with Celestia as the prize, there would be no mercy.

Never had the dawn come so quickly. Sand gritted beneath Twilight’s eyelids as the sun’s first rays broke through the overhanging windows and painted her workplace in russet light. She opened her eyes, rubbed the grit from them, and looked about to find the aisles empty. Still, her water glass had been refilled, and her books’ gathered dust swept away. She lifted up a nearby water goblet and drained it dry. Ice cold. The Crystal Library’s caretakers had but just made their rounds. Twilight sat up tall in her seat and grumbled. Back to work.

She turned to rouse her compatriot only to find his place empty. A smaller pile of scrolls lingered in disarray at his makeshift bedside, the wax of forgotten candles coating the ground in a solid puddle near where his nose would have been. As it had been the night before, his workstation was a cluttered mess, more madness than method. That part had irked her most. Nothing so easily remedied as being disorganized should ever come between them and any clue of Luna's whereabouts.

Twilight turned back to her desk, loathing herself for wanting to cry. The prior day had been spent with her heart in shards on the floor, and this night—this wasted, worthless night—had done nothing to seal the cracks. Now, on the dawn of a new day, the world outside was unlike the world she’d known before. Still, though, it was a new day. The sun still rose, the moon still set, and nothing had come on the coattails of disaster to steal hope away. Her prisoner’s promises had gone unfulfilled, and there was nothing to indicate that might change. Twilight returned to her work with the first inklings of a smile. The world wasn’t over just yet.

A sharp clatter of porcelain broke the silence. Twilight turned to find her bodyguard, his red-crested helm askew, pacing carefully forward, a silver tray balanced on his back. Despite the spring in his step, he looked far less rested than Twilight could've hoped. Luckily, if this new aroma was any testament, his offerings would be more than enough to reinvigorate the search. Sidling up to her desk, he tilted his wings and let slip his cargo, sighing with relief when his teapot kept upright. Folding his wings to his side, he gave her an elegant bow. “Tea, Your Highness?”

Twilight nodded her thanks and drew the teapot close, portioning out a healthy dose into the teacups provided. “There’s biscuits too,” he added, gesturing with his eyes. “I didn't know what kinds you liked, so grabbed the closest ones. I hope you like chocolate.”

“I do, very much. Thank you.”

Quietly she turned to the tray and its arrangement of pastries encircling ramekins filled with succulent jams and jellies. The aroma from the teapot at her side was too much to bear, but with some amount of restraint she pulled a few biscuits from their arrangement and carefully slathered them in jam. Her guard looked on patiently, rubbing his weary eyes with an armored forehoof. There would be no hiding his exhaustion, no matter how he tried to hide it.

“How did you sleep, ma’am?”

Twilight pushed her biscuit around with a hoof and said nothing. She hadn’t even heard; the tea smelled too much like Luna’s, a brew forgotten in the storm of shouting and accusations, left to grow cold on the observatory floor. The biscuits reminded her too much of Applejack’s baking, brought back memories of stopping by on a bright summer day for no other purpose than a slice of apple pie and the opportunity to watch Apple Bloom frolick in the sun. Looking at them now, she couldn’t bring herself to eat. The tea was bitter, the biscuits stale... the company foreign. Twilight pushed her food aside and turned back to her scrolls. “We need to get back to work.”

“Aren't you going to eat?” His eyes were full of concern, his tone of voice far too familiar. Far more than Twilight liked. “You really should eat, ma’am. You’ll need your strength if you—”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

“Please eat, milady. It would be wise to keep yourself—”

“It would be wise not to argue with your princess,” Twilight snapped, rounding on him viciously. “Or have you forgotten that so soon?”

The light in his eyes doused in an instant. He retreated hastily, looking to his hooves in silence. He started to speak, but caught his words with a sigh. Twilight watched him, turned to her biscuit, and felt utterly hollow. He had made such an effort, and she’d been nothing but callous. She would never have spoken to Rarity that way, or Applejack, or any other friend. Looking at him as he hung his head, the only thing she could feel was shame. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“You had every right, ma’am,” he said quietly. “I am yours to command, not the reverse. I forgot my place, and I forgot yours. Please, forgive me.”

Neither rose their head for a while, but soon, when the veil lifted, Twilight gave him a soft little nudge. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’ve... I’ve been a bit distracted, haven’t I? A bit distant?”

He held his tongue, considered the options, then shrugged his shoulders plaintively. “It has been an interesting day, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really has.”

He chuckled half-heartedly, then raised his eyes. Looking at one another, it was plain to see there was no ill will. He nodded towards her biscuits, and just the reminder made her stomach gurgle uproariously. He looked at her with an embarrassed little smile, then pushed a few more biscuits in her direction. She took them with a nod. “Thank you for breakfast. I needed it more than you know.”

“You’re more than welcome, milady.”

Her stomach rumbled again, and soon it was obvious she wouldn’t be able to contain her hunger any longer. With a little smile Twilight temporarily relinquished her manners, wolfing down her breakfast with wonderful abandon. With every bite of her biscuits and their succulent jams, she could feel herself letting go of all those hatreds and insecurities that had plagued her from the night before. Those spaces in the pit of her stomach filled with long-forgotten food, their horrors drenched in sugar and sweetness until they plagued her no longer. It was almost sacrilegious, this feeling, especially in light of their plight. But despite her reservations, Twilight was overjoyed. Her bodyguard, however, looked absolutely dismal. She swallowed a massive bite of biscuit, looking at him sadly. “Aren't you going to eat?”

For a second, he seemed not to understand. “I... I can’t, ma’am.”

“Why not?”

“It would be improper of me to eat anything until your appetite has been satisfied. I’ll wait until you’ve finished.”

Twilight turned to the plate to find that little remained. Immediately she felt her insides curdle. Was this how she’d repay his generosity? “That’s ridiculous! Who came up with that rule?”

He never found the time to explain. Something in his silence screamed Vanguard, the stoic colonel from the previous day. It hadn’t been the first time they had butted heads. Twilight pushed the tray closer to him. “I want to make sure you’ve eaten your fill. Celestia knows I can’t finish all this. Please, eat.” She dropped her voice, her tone playfully severe. “Don’t make me order you!”

He looked up, confused, then shot fleeting glances down the aisles. “Are... are you sure, Your Highness?”

“Of course! Just don’t get the table dirty.”

Nervously he looked over his shoulder again. Then, with an eye on her, he stole a biscuit from the tray. A few more awkward seconds, then another biscuit. Twilight pushed the tray a little closer, and with a sigh of relief he swept up a healthy fraction and gobbled it down hungrily. Twilight poured him a cup of tea, a smile plastered wide on her face. What did a guard as imposing as he have to fear from a little mare like herself? He couldn’t have been much older than her, if he was even that. Still, he treated her with such reverence. Did the crown really account for all the difference?

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d prefer not to be called ‘Your Highness’,” Twilight said quietly, helping herself another biscuit. “I’m not exactly used to it yet. Please, just call me Twilight.”

Something in the air between them grew horribly cold. His ears perked up, his eyes flying between the aisles before dropping low to his hooves. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to refuse you, but I... I just...” He sighed. “Colonel Vanguard has made it clear that we are to address you with the utmost formality. To do anything less would be an insult to you and the crown. I am to address you as I would Princess Celestia or Princess Luna: with absolute reverence.”

Twilight cocked an eyebrow. “Did he say anything about what would come if you disobey that order?”

“I would be reprimanded severely.”

“I see.” Twilight threw another pastry in his direction. “I won’t tell him if you won’t.”

Slowly he raised his eyes from the ground. “Are... are you sure, Your Highness?” Twilight shot him a smile, earning an honest one from him in return. “Of course, Your High... I mean, Twilight.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “As you wish.”

With him finally relaxed, Twilight leaned back in her chair and savored her meal. In the wake of the attack, to even think of food had felt like a disservice to the peril of the matter. Night had come, and still that guilt lingered. Still, the sun’s assurance helped alleviate the guilt. If Celestia was strong enough to raise the sun in her state, then not all was doomed in the walls of Canterlot. A reprieve from the heartache would do a world of good, and if chocolate couldn’t mend those cracks then nothing could. Twilight swallowed her biscuit and swept in for another. Any slower, and he’d have polished off the rest.

When all the delicacies had been consumed, her bodyguard leaned back with a satisfied groan, swept up his tea, and lumbered back to his station. Plopping himself upon his padded seat, he drained his cup and glanced idly over his forgotten documents. Twilight watched her cup, saw the tea leaves swimming in their soup, thought of the observatory, and felt her thirst dwindle away. She couldn’t bring herself to finish it. Twilight turned back to her books. If Luna was to be found, she wouldn’t be found by hoping for it.

By the time her eyes finally gave out, a few more hours had passed them by. Her inspected books had been split between those she’d thought useful and those which would serve no purpose. Much to her displeasure, the former pile was far smaller than the latter. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, returning her attention to the next book in her queue: a thick, ugly text bound in something sickeningly similar to leather. The image of a talon had been branded on its surface, and as she opened the text she found a figure of a griffon rearing proudly on the front page, its wings outspread, a banner held in one paw and a sword in the other. Beneath it, the book’s title: A History of the Griffon Kingdom and its Rulers. A sprawling set of family trees dominated the following pages, with portraits of the last few centuries’ Griffon monarchs and their respective progeny written in fine-point hoof-written scrawl. She closed the book shut, then drifted it to the smaller of the two piles. A little history couldn’t hurt, Twilight thought. If nothing else, it’ll make some good light reading on the trail.

The trail. In light of the day’s events, she’d almost forgotten about the path ahead, the journey she’d promised to make, and the notion of being alone in the wild. This library and her own, Canterlot’s many archives and the warm comfort of her home... These were familiar environments, and she knew how to handle them. She knew what to expect. Ahead, though, was the frontier. The untamed wilds. The Frozen North. Beyond the mountain ranges peeking their heads outside the window, there was nothing. No records, as far as she knew. No civilizations besides the one who’d trespassed into Canterlot and planted its flag in Celestia’s heart. Twilight bit her lip, pulling closer another book to distract her from the thought of being hunted. It was far too much to linger on, and if the corpse-mare’s promise was true? They wouldn’t last a fortnight.

Twilight looked to the book of Griffon history for a moment, then turned away. What would the history books say of her, should she fail? Would there even be a recollection? Or would it be burned in the fires of Sombra’s return, carried on the wings of the changelings now ushering his devastation onwards? To even think he’d truly returned filled her with dread, but to consider his alliance with yet another foe? It made her legs weak just thinking about it. But she had watched him fall once before. She had been there and watched his shadows die in the light of the Crystal Heart. What was there to say it couldn’t happen again? What was there to say it wouldn’t? A part of her knew already. Luna hadn’t even been gone a day. Who knew how long it would take to find her again? Who knew what condition she would be in?

“Ma’am, are you alright?”

Twilight shook herself back to reality to find her bodyguard looking at her hoof worriedly. She followed his eyes, found the biscuit crumbled to pieces beneath her hoof, and quickly cleaned herself of jam. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, wiping her station clean. “Nothing...”

“You were thinking about her, weren’t you?”

Looking at him, never had Twilight seen any soldier so furious. “I was too,” he said. “I don’t understand what could've happened to make someone so... so...” He shuddered. “Captain Shining Armor was right. She really is something else.”

Those horrible yellow eyes pushed out the memory of Luna. Twilight turned to him, shrugging. “She really is.”

“How does something like... like that... happen to a pony?”

It had been a question Twilight had never stopped asking herself, not for a moment. This waking nightmare, this so-called Penumbra... She was more rotten on the inside than on what remained of her outside. The cunning of the twisted encased in the carapace of the deceitful, fueled by madness and hate. Less deserving of a name than she was Twilight’s mercy, but still, even with all these slights against her, she lived. She basked in the sunlight, enjoyed the fresh air... She lived, while Celestia bled. And I’m too weak to do anything about it...

“I wish I knew,” Twilight said quietly. “Changelings can assume the shape of a pony, live out their lives as another without anyone knowing. But to become a pony? To blend the two together is... is impossible. No magic I know of can do something like that.” Twilight hid her eyes. No natural magic, anyway...

His eyes screamed murder. “You should’ve let Colonel Vanguard finish her when you had the chance."

“No. I need her alive and well.”

“Well?” His eyes drained of any reverence for her, flashing with malice as though she were the mare herself. “She stole our princess from us! She stuck a knife in Princess Celestia and laughed about it! She pretty much admitted she’s going to murder you too, if not the rest of us! How could you possibly want to treat her well, after everything she’s done?”

His bared teeth flashed viciously, but with a quick shake of his mane his anger spirited itself away. He sat down hard, cursing under his breath. “Forgive me. It was inappropriate of me to yell. I just... I can’t... I’ll never forgive her for what she did. No sane pony can. Death isn’t good enough for her. She deserves so much worse.”

“She has information we need, and being her enemy will only guarantee her silence. We must treat her as a guest if we're to find out anything. Once we find Luna and a way to cure Celestia, she’ll be of no use to us anymore.” They shared a little glance, a mutual understanding that seemed to calm him down some. “We’ll deal with her then.”

He nodded his agreement, though a part of him, just below the surface, boiled violently. “I’ll try my best to be civil, but a pony like that isn’t a pony worth helping. Whatever she has to say isn’t something you should trust. You saw how she behaved in there. She betrayed us once, and she’ll do it again.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance, even our enemies.”

“Did you give King Sombra a second chance?”

Twilight froze, breathless. He saw her hesitation, her inability to even move, and dropped his head solemnly. “I would never question your motives, ma’am, nor would I impose on things you might want forgotten. I heard tales of what he’d done, how he enslaved the Crystal Empire for his own benefit. He was a threat to the world, not just Equestria. He had to be destroyed if we were to live in peace.” He returned to his scrolls with one last respectful bow. “Not everyone deserves to be saved.”

In the spaces between breaths Twilight could finally appreciate how silent the library truly was. The thoughts inside her head screamed and fought against each other, vying for the chance to be the course she’d follow. Every fiber of her being agreed with him: the corpse-mare had given no mercy, and thus had earned none. She had lied and murdered her way to Celestia, forgoing everything to fulfill an empty promise to a mad king more substantial in her twisted mind than in the world she’d condemned. But through her were the lives of Luna and Celestia. Her blade had split them asunder, and it was to that same blade that their lives were bound. To let her live was to invite their doom, and to kill her was to seal it. Twilight turned to her books and idly floated the next one down, hating herself for feeling so sour. For all her love of libraries, there was nothing here to suggest anything useful would be found within these walls. This whole venture has been a waste of time.

Turning her eyes downward, Twilight caught her breath. Or not...

Before her, blazing brightly in the sun, lay a thick text lavishly adorned in bold colors and swirling borderlines. In the center of the cover, an ornate triangle had been stamped in silver ink. An arrangement of stars following the airy sweep of a comet whirled in the triangle’s heart. Something about it was far too familiar, but the more she thought on it the more her mind turned up blank. She ignored the symbol and turned to the rest. I'll remember eventually.

At the triangle’s corners lay three symbols: at the top, a small fire belching heat; in the left corner, a little glimmering horn; and in the right corner, a wind-swept eye. Scratches and what appeared to be burn marks gave the cover the appearance of something well-loved. Or well-despised, Twilight thought, opening the book to its middle. When was the last time anyone tried setting fire to one of their books lovingly? The thought made her chuckle. Celestia would have my horn if she ever saw me doing something like that!

Looking about the pages, Twilight found not boring mountains of text, but drawings, pictures, and diagrams with little colts and fillies in mind. The artist's love affair with their color palette was a horribly kept secret; the pages ran rampant with colors in vibrant hues, still bright even after the years had faded them. Every picture followed a similar vein: the image of a filly or colt standing beside a middle-aged unicorn in one pane, and that same pair standing beside a beautifully drawn magical spell in the other. Below each picture, the incantation for a spell was printed in large letters beside an explanation of that spell’s effects and requirements. Turning the page, Twilight found herself looking at a filly standing beside a roaring fire, a smile painted on her thin, inky lips. Turning back to the first page, she found clear, blocky text firmly stamped for easy reading:

The Wonderful World of Magic: The Gifted Unicorn’s Workbook

By: Willow Wand

With a Special Introduction by:

Lord Star-Swirl the Bearded,

High Magister of Equestria and Chief Advisor to Her Radiance Princess Celestia.

Had it been possible, the sun outside grew a little brighter. Twilight pulled her nose from the book and swept aside the pages until the picture of the filly and her fire lay stretched out upon the table. There, just as she hoped, sat the aging unicorn smiling down at his student. He wore no bells or caps streaming with stars, nor flowing cape with its feathered adornments. There was only an emphasis on the beginnings of what would very soon become the beard of lore. There, standing patiently beside an aspiring student, stood a legend. It should’ve been so obvious before! That was no mere magician! That was Star-Swirl himself!

Minutely drawn, his eyes were just as heavy-lidded as she’d expected from the world-weathered soul of her fantasies. There was a stern security there, a security a father might have for their child. Like Luna and Celestia had for her. Twilight could almost feel herself in the little filly’s horseshoes, could feel his honest expectation for her success cloud the air. She imagined her spell succeeding, and felt his pride sweep her up. She imagined her spell failing, and felt as that expectation turned swiftly to understanding, not disappointment or frustration as a lesser mentor might have done. She could feel him wanting her not only to succeed, but to surpass, and as she returned to the world around her Twilight could feel his eyes remain, urging her confidently onwards. Twilight stroked the picture and beamed. Just the encouragement I need.

“Where did you find this?”

Twilight drifted the textbook towards her bodyguard. He took a look at it, then plucked it from her grasp. ‘It looks like it belongs in the Little Foals section,” he muttered, flipping to the book’s title page. He leaned a little closer, staring at the pages in disbelief. “Wait... I know this name...”

“Star-Swirl the Bearded?”

He nodded furiously. “There’s a wing of the castle named after him, right? I remember having to patrol that hallway once! Worst damn place to be at night, let me tell you...” He caught himself with a little cough. “Sorry, Twilight. I forgot myself just then...”

“You didn’t forget to call me Twilight, though,” she said, beaming at him. A smile slowly crept into his lips, which only made Twilight smile wider. We’re making progress! Twilight nodded back to the book, sitting up as proudly as she could. “Star-Swirl the Bearded was the greatest, most revered authority on magic the world ever knew! He’s responsible for more things than we can count. He uncovered new branches of magic, refined Magical Theory into an actual discipline... He even postulated that everypony—Pegasi, Unicorns, and Earth ponies alike—had different, complementary forms of magic. Everything we know about the Elements of Harmony came from him! I’ve read every book I can find on his life and times. If anyone’s worthy of a wing in the Canterlot Library, it's him!"

“Then what’s he doing writing children’s books?”

“It doesn’t look like he wrote anything but the introduction.” Twilight drifted the textbook gingerly atop her pile. She could feel him cringe looking at just how heavy it was. “I know it might seem like dead weight, but basic magic is often the most useful. Who knows when I’ll need a refresher on how to start a fire?”

He pulled another book from his queue. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. If anyone knows how to start a fire, it’s Rosy.”

“Rosy? Who’s Rosy?”

He turned to her, confused, only to find her more baffled than himself. “Compass Rose? The archer? You sent him to get your dragon, remember?”

Twilight gave him a calm smile, thanking the forces that were that he couldn’t hear her screaming at herself. Their names! How could she have never asked for their names? Already she could feel herself being scolded by Rarity from afar for abandoning common decency. She could feel Luna and Celestia breathing down her neck, disappointment snorting like steam from their nostrils. It’s not like it would’ve been so hard, Twilight thought. They’re giving up everything to help you. You owe them at least that much.

“So, this Rosy..." She turned to find him straining to open what appeared to be a diary firmly sealed with a large silver clasp. Whatever mechanism had locked it tight had appeared to have malfunctioned, leaving him unable to open it no matter how hard he strained. He gave up with a little huff, chucking the book back on the pile with a frown. “Don’t tell him I called him that,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “He hates being called that.”

“So what should I call him?”

“Just Compass Rose." He caught the look in Twilight’s eyes and understood immediately that she wanted more. “He’s a scout, ma'am. It’s his job to provide reconnaissance in the field. Mainly he just does aerial patrol work, but he’s a real wizard when it comes to camping, navigation, and wilderness survival. He was an obvious choice for this mission.” His eyes dropped back to his scroll. “It took a little convincing the colonel to allow him to go, but eventually he came around.”

“What was the problem?”

“Rosy’s a good soldier, but he’s... he’s not exactly hardened, if you can understand that. Sometimes he doesn’t catch on as quickly as Colonel Vanguard needs him to, and he’s a little frail.” He dropped his head, a sad little flicker in his eye. “Vanguard’s never really liked him, and it’s a shame. He’s only ever been kind to me.”

Twilight watched him hang his head with a sad smile. She, too, knew how heavy the weight of subordinance could be. “This Vanguard sounds like he expects a lot out of his soldiers.”

“A lot would be an understatement. Perfection isn’t good enough most times, and he’s not one who likes to remind ponies of their duties. He passes out orders like they’re candies, doesn’t take no for an answer, and if you argue with him? Let’s just say if a lower-ranking officer challenges his authority in the morning, you’d be hearing about the poor bastard’s court-martial by lunchtime.”

Twilight balked at that. “If he’s so horrible, why’d you sign on to be his subordinate?”

Despite everything Twilight expected, his face lit up with pride. “To say you’re serving under Colonel Vanguard is worth more than any rank! He’s the hardest, most demanding officer in the Royal Guard, so to be one of the few who survive his training is to be one of the most well-disciplined and highly-regarded soldiers Canterlot has to offer. Your brother is remarkable, ma’am, and it's a pleasure to know him. But Vanguard? He’s a legend!”

To hear the fervor in his voice as he lauded his commander sounded all too familiar, reminded her of how she felt for Celestia and Luna. How the twisted Penumbra sounded preaching about her Lord of Shadows. Twilight shook herself free of the thought, though it skulked somewhere in the background. It could be dangerous, to think too hard on it.

“So what about you,” Twilight said, giving him a little urging nod. “You’ve talked about your friend and your captain, but I haven’t heard anything about you. What’s your story?”

“I...” He stopped, at a loss for words. “I don’t really know where to start, ma’am.”

“You could start with your name, perhaps?” A little laugh escaped her lips. “I mean, it seems a little wrong to know the name of Celestia’s attacker before the name of the stallion who helped me bring her to justice.”

“But I’m not a...” He caught his tongue, his eyes furtively glancing to her hooves. “I’m... I'm not that special, ma’am. You speak as though I’m her savior, and I’m not. I’m just an ordinary grunt.”

“Do you call what you did yesterday ordinary? I saw how you handled yourself, how you fought with Vanguard. You were fearless! You jumped in and fought for me without a second thought! Scary as it was, I’m impressed at what you did!” Twilight bowed her head. “And grateful. Very grateful. Without your help, I probably wouldn’t be here talking to you.”

She watched his eyes glaze over, watched him hold his head on the floor, and heard nothing. Quietly his mind drifted away, his face lined in pain. “I wish I could say I did the same for Princess Celestia.”

“You did more than you know,” Twilight said, patting him on his armored shoulder. He remained in his place, soaking in her praise with a distant, wan smile. A part of him still lingered on Celestia like Twilight did. She was as much of a reminder of the stark truth of their mission as the fresh nicks on his armor, carved-out ridges that hadn’t dulled with the passage of time. Twilight could feel the scratches left by the tough fibers of the brush that had scoured his plating free of blood. Twilight pulled her hoof back. He had done more than he knew, indeed. More than anyone should ever have to do.

Twilight gave him a reassuring smile, and soon the fog lifted from his eyes. He nodded his understanding, returned her smile, and pulled his scroll closer. Twilight looked to the grand lobby below them and the sunlight streaming higher through the windows, pulling the next article down from the pile. Still the day ticked on relentlessly, but with his help, at least the coming of the dawn would remain a certainty.

Before she knew, the sunlight that had once but kissed the base of her desk had entreated upon its surface and sat glimmering through her water glass. The last hour’s progress had been only marginally more profitable. The book on Griffon history was now the base of a growing pile of tightly-tucked scrolls, ribbon-bound manuscripts, and other oddities buried somewhere in the towering aisles the now-snoozing soldier behind her had scoured. His pile, too, had grown substantially; a few additional spellbooks had been added atop Star-Swirl’s workbook, along with a host of scrolls bound in red ribbons, a bestiary cataloging Equestria’s diverse fauna, and a variety of loose-leaf parchments upon which various schematics had been drawn. By his nose sat the curious little book with its broken latch, retaining its solidarity despite his efforts. Even baking in the sunlight, it looked as though a single touch might freeze Twilight solid.

Twilight turned back to her pile and drifted down the next in line: a weathered little book bound in blue, an emerald bee stamped proudly on its surface. It had to have been centuries old, and yet it looked far younger. The owner must’ve really loved this, Twilight thought, brushing the surface with a smile. She opened the cover and read the book's title: An Amateur’s Guide to Apiculture and a Catalog of the Species’ Many Forms. A partly smeared inscription hovered in the bottom corner, its faded letters delicately penned by a true master of the art; every opportunity to accentuate the letters inscribed had been taken, and elegantly so. Squinting, Twilight looked a little closer and deciphered the text:

I’d give you my luck, but we both know you don’t need it. Congratulations on your appointment to the position of Vice-Archivist! May this book forever collect dust on your bookshelf! You’re a master of your craft now, and I couldn’t be more proud of you. Perhaps, one day, you’ll need a reminder about how not to get stung by those pesky little devils. Hopefully, though, you need no reminder that you’re the best friend I could ever have asked for. I look forward to seeing summer come with you beside me. Until then, all my love.

-Your dearest Penny

Hoof-written notes lined every margin alongside little sketches of bees and their related parts. One wonderfully detailed diagram of a hive had been noted with comments and disagreements, dashed-out words and their replacements emboldened with strict underlines. Whoever had this book last had truly been a master scholar; no scribbled space had been wasted on idle nonsense, and no comment or claim went unsupported. Twilight took another look through, but it was obvious there would be no answers as to Luna’s whereabouts. Still, the notion that this book was history tickled her heart. It can come too, she thought, placing it tenderly atop the stack. If I can't learn beekeeping, I’ll at least learn a thing or two about how to properly annotate my textbooks.

Twilight turned back to her pile, rejoicing that only a few last books remained for her perusal. She pulled down the topmost one but stopped, looking instead to the largest one lingering untouched at the bottom. Heavy parchment edged in gold caught her eye, silently screaming to be opened. Sliding it out, Twilight sat in awe of its size. Not a lick of free space remained on her desk to even open it. She slid it to the floor, swept aside her chair, and gingerly unbuckled the binding straps until she was able to open it fully. Drawing close, she read the title page with bated breath:

By Order of

His Royal Highness Prince Palladium the Mountain-Tamer:

Furoros’ Bane and Lord Sovereign of the Gilded Lands,

And

By Commission of the Council of Seven

in the Five-Hundredth and Fifty-First Year of the First Age.

THE GILDED LANDS:

Her Territories, Holdings, and Provinces

Hither N. Yon

His Majesty’s Royal Cartographer

In Commemoration of

Her Grace Princess Platinum's Cuteceñera

Below the final line, a portrait of a plum-skinned filly dolled in her frilliest of white dresses sat proudly in what could only have been her father's throne. Above cheeks dotted with freckles, a far-seeing glaze shrouded over her eyes, piercing the confines of the page and onwards through time. Was this the face of the would-be first princess of Equestria?

Turning the page, Twilight blew aside a thin layer of dust to reveal a hoofpainted map of the world, its landscape marked by drawings, symbols, and golden threads marking territories, states, and nations. Familiar though it was, there was no Canterlot, no Ponyville, and no Equestria. Instead, each would-be modern city sat within separate delineated boundaries, each of them identified by their own unique names and their own hoof-drawn holdfasts. A large swath of land painted in purple boasted The Gilded Lands in golden ink, its fragmented provinces hugging the north-eastern coast of what would be Equestria. To the far south, the artist had portioned a few territories under an unadorned Earth Pony banner. To the northwest, a large tract of mountain range had been allocated to the Pegasi. In one corner of the page, the artist had delicately painted an ornate assembly of pegasi casting their respective winds to the far corners of the map. In the other, golden leaf had been stamped in swirling adornment around a fading legend in crimson ink. Twilight drew back, stunned. This was more than a book. This was a priceless artifact!

"What in the world?"

Twilight turned to find her groggy bodyguard peering over her shoulder. Twilight brushed her hoof over the page one more time, letting the sensation of history trickle through her hooves and make her heart soar. “This? This is no ordinary map! This is Equestria before it was Equestria! This is us!” She placed her hoof directly on the minute figure of the Crystal Empire's palace, the figurehead of the tiny empire which, even then, sat proudly on the plains north of Canterlot's mountain. "The Crystal Empire hasn't changed much, but look anywhere else and you don't see any familiar names! There's no Manehattan, no Baltimare, no Cloudsdale or Fillydelphia or Las Pegasus!" Her eyes fell on the forests in the mountain’s shadow, searching in vain for any evidence of the thatched-roof houses of home. Only the untamed Everfree remained where it should have been. Twilight sighed. “Looks like the cartographer missed a spot. That, or Ponyville hadn’t been established yet.”

“You’d think he wouldn't have missed something like this,” the soldier said, pointing to the northern edge of the map. Beyond the mountain ranges and the Pegasi lands, the words Northern Wastes had been written without adornment or emotion. Territory lines transformed from bold, assured stamps to dotted lines, then ended without explanation. Roads and thoroughfares became mere trails and footpaths. Then, there was nothing. No paint, no lines, and no names. Twilight’s heart sank. No clues.

Her bodyguard snorted. “What good is a map if it doesn’t help you get to where you need to go?”

Twilight’s eyes fell to the pages. This book, this atlas... It was far too thick for just one map! There had to have been more inside! Twilight skimmed the pages in a blur, her eyes lighting up with each new image. Finally, she found the piece she’d hoped would present itself: the Northern Wastes. It would take a skilled navigator to sift through the runes and symbols laid out on the stark-white landscape. But luckily, we have one! "This is perfect,” Twilight exclaimed, wheeling on her bodyguard. "Where did you find this? There has to be more like it!"

He pondered for a moment, hitting on the answer with a start. "If I recall, I pulled this from the basement after you'd fallen asleep. Back row of the archives, by some weird statue."

"Think you can get there again?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Twilight nodded, then turned to the piles behind them. With a little nod the purple aura of her magic cradled their respective books and ordered them neatly in their saddlebags. He hefted the atlas atop his back and locked it into place as Twilight's magic returned everything to its rightful place. As she turned to follow him to the archives, she took a few moments to bask in the sunlight.

With the prospect of another few hours in the recesses of the library, it was a much needed moment indeed.

It was no small wonder why the Crystal Empire Library had been first on her list of resources. Wherever she looked, there was information buried snugly beneath dusty blankets, begging to be rediscovered. Every sunlit shelf in the library above had been crucial, and every book now bouncing in her saddlebags was one step closer to Luna and the north. But if the library halls above them had been only slightly productive, then these musty corridors were a veritable treasure trove.

Beneath the wavering candles’ glow, every faded word Twilight read exuded history. The ancient texts’ bindings creaked and cracked with voices of their own, hoarse with disuse but tainted each with their own unique accents and dialects. One fine depiction of an ancient battle had been illustrated on a parchment scroll so wide she’d had to take an effort not to tread on it while reading it. Transactions and shipments from forgotten vendors on ramshackle streets had been inked in a little black manuscript, the lives and livelihoods of merchants and their families recorded forevermore in a book no different from any other. One epic poem, quickly discarded in disgust, had been inscribed on the very skin of the serpentine foe the poem had vilified. Each of them was special in their own way, but none could claim more importance than the text she now read.

It was adorned in purple and gold just like its brother, but no maps awaited her here. No pictures or illustrations for an eager foal to enjoy. This companion work was a life’s labor indeed, a complete history of a forgotten kingdom. Twilight had read the title page nearly dozens of times, for there was something wonderfully strong in its simplicity. A History of the Gilded Lands. A paragon of recordkeeping, if there ever was one: a compendium of every beneficent king and brutal tyrant; of every skirmish, battle, war, and cataclysm; of every economic boon and cultural endeavour. The birth of Ponykind, and every moment from then to the fall of the once-great civilization. It was an entire era of Pony history in her hooves’ grasp, but it was no Luna. It was no step forward as they needed. It was merely a piece to an undiscovered puzzle, one which led closer to finding some answers. Twilight slipped it into her saddlebags and grimaced. There wasn’t room for much more before it was time to leave.

She looked to her bodyguard to find him zooming past in a blur, scrolls and papers fluttering in his wake. He flapped and flitted his way between the aisles, scouring the shelves for any sign of a possible prize only to return empty-hooved and more disappointed than the time before. He yanked texts and books from their shelves and discarded them just as vigorously, at every moment both excited and dissatisfied. Another solid hour’s work left him utterly spent, dragging his wings on the floor with a frown. “Nothing,” he grumbled, plopping himself down with a metal clank. “I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t find anything we haven’t inspected already.”

“No more atlases?”

He shook his head. “None that could come with us. If they’re not disintegrated, they’re burnt, and if they’re not burnt they’re waterlogged, slashed, missing crucial pages, or filled with incomprehensible scribbling. Nothing like that atlas we found. I doubt we’ll find anything more detailed than that.”

Twilight nodded her agreement. It was a truly remarkable find indeed, if for nothing else than the fact it had been dedicated to Princess Platinum herself. If it couldn’t get them to the Northern Wastes, it could at least get them started. “You’ve done well,” Twilight said, shooting him a comforting smile. “You must be baking under all that armor. Please, take a load off. You’ve earned a break.”

“This?” He tapped his breastplate, rubbing off the sweat with a proud smile. “I’d prefer to leave it on, ma’am, if you don’t mind. You never know when you might need to be on the defensive.”

“I doubt we’ll be attacked here,” Twilight said, “but do as you will. I can handle things from here.”

There was a little spring in his step as he shook off his duties and plopped himself against a nearby statue. Twilight smiled as he took his break, but tried her hardest to keep her eyes on him and not on the unicorn towering above them. Weird had been an understatement; the statue he’d used as his landmark was downright bone-chilling. A featureless face carved from pristine white marble stared blindly at an emerald orb held motionlessly in the unicorn mare’s outstretched hooves. Stony as she was, her hindquarters had melted like wax into the plinth on which she sat, indistinguishable to the point where the two seemed carved from the same bland stone. Every moment was an eternity just waiting for her to animate and drop her crystalline cargo upon Twilight’s waiting head. Just thinking about it had been too much of a distraction, for as Twilight brought herself back to her work she found foreign lines of text. Twilight grimaced. Lost my place...

“I wonder who she was,” the soldier said, glancing skyward. He’d reclined himself against the statue’s podium, kicking at dust bunnies impatiently. “Only important ponies get statues made of them. I wonder why this pony got one.”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Twilight replied, her eyes glued to her scroll. “It’s probably just decoration, unless there’s a plaque with a dedication.”

“None that I can see.”

“Then I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Twilight turned back to her manuscript, cursing under her breath. Lost my place again...

“Do you have any statues? Being a princess, you’ve got to have a statue, right?”

Twilight turned to him to find him leaning forward, eagerly awaiting her answer. Thinking it over, she couldn’t recall. She also couldn’t recall those last lines she’d been reading. “Not that I can think of. If you’re going to take a break, I’d appreciate it if you do it quietly. I’m starting to lose my focus.”

“Of course.” He leaned back, his helmet clinking against the marble with a tinny tink tink. “It’s nearly mid-day, ma’am. When are we expected to meet up with Colonel Vanguard?”

Twilight closed her eyes. Is it really going to be this difficult? “I never gave him a time. We’ll get there when we find something worth leaving here for. Until then, I need some quiet.”

“So he’s just waiting out there with... with Penumbra?”

Twilight turned to him, surprised. There hadn’t been any aggression on his lips in speaking the would-be assassin’s name. He seemed wary, but docile. Was he actually taking her plea for understanding to heart? “I have the utmost confidence in the colonel,” Twilight said, “and I know he can handle her. If your friend Rosy follows through, and if he can read that map, then we’ll have a whole heap of information to get us started.”

He leaned back with a sigh, tapping his helmet against the podium impatiently. Tink tink tink. “Will we have the room to carry everything? We’ve got enough books to carry as it is, and depending on—”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but right now I’d ask you to keep your thoughts to yourself. If you’re going to rest, then please do so quietly. The last thing I need right now is more distractions.”

He clacked his hoof to his helmet in a quick salute, but she could see his ears droop a little. “Of course, ma’am,” he whispered, returning to his seat. “Let me know when you need me.”

“I will.”

She heard him sigh, then return to tapping his helmet. Tink tink tink. Twilight watched him from the corner of her eye, cursing herself for being so brusque. He was only trying to be nice, to take an interest. To be a friend. Celestia knows I could use a friend right now, she thought, struggling to keep her attention on her scroll. She could feel him squirming nearby, idly tapping his helm against the plinth. Tink tink tink. Twilight pushed her scroll away and drew another close, looking over the first lines. Nothing came that might help light the path. Helpful though this trip had been, there was a distinct lack of information about the Frozen North. Was it by design? Had all of Ponykind recognized the importance of forgetting such an arid place and she, in her ignorance, wasn’t catching on?

Tink tink tink.

Twilight ground her hoof into her forehead. Think, think, think! Where else could I possibly look?

Tink tink tink.

I’ve checked the Archives, the Library, the main Lobby... I’ve looked everywhere, and so has he! Was there somewhere we missed? Somewhere we forgot to check?

Tink tink tink.

I didn’t see anything in the history book. The one on the Griffons wouldn’t have anything. The beginner’s spellbook? No, why would it have anything?

Tink tink TUNK.

Twilight’s mind’s train came to a screeching halt. She turned to her bodyguard to find him lazing against the statue, his eyes closed, twiddling his hoof blithely. Even in the absence of sunlight, he seemed utterly warm, happy in his semi-sleep. He didn’t even seem aware of just what he was doing as he clicked his helmet against the statue’s base. Tunk tunk tunk. Twilight slid from her chair and drew close, straining to hear every sound she could. He opened his eyes and jolted at her proximity. TUNK!

“Did you hear that?” Twilight slid as close as she could to the plinth, her ear flat against its cold dusty surface. Inches away from her, her bodyguard appeared to be utterly dumbfounded.

“I didn’t hear anything, ma’am! What’s wrong? Is someone coming?”

“No, listen...”

With a hoof she tapped on one corner of the podium, her eyes closed. Tink tink. She drew her hoof closer. Tink tink. Another few inches closer. Tink tink. She bit her lip, praying for something to come. Anything to confirm she hadn’t been dreaming. Tink tink tink. She put her hoof right beside her eyes. Please, let there be something...

Tunk tunk.

“Here!” Twilight looked up at him, her eyes alight with excitement. “It’s right here!”

“What is, ma’am?”

“The way forward!”

He flicked his eyes between her and the statue’s plinth, utterly baffled. “I don’t understand. Is there something I’m missing?”

Twilight looked to him, then back to the statue. There was something missing, indeed. A way through, and if her suspicions were correct? There was even more to be discovered, things worth hiding away from the world behind a marble sentinel. All it would take was some brute force to find them. But you’re smarter than that, she thought. Why use brute force when you’ve got magic?

“Stand back.”

Without a word he scrambled to his hooves and took his place behind her, bracing for whatever might come. Twilight closed her eyes, conjuring up her magic from every corner of her body. A whirling orb of light sprouted from her horn, condensing and swirling into a luminous little point that quaked and shook at its reins. Faster it whirled, vibrating violently, but Twilight held her focus. It would need to be quick, the transition between spells, but if she could handle this ball of pure explosive energy then a simple shield spell would be easy enough. Once the light had condensed as tight as she could make it, Twilight pointed her horn at the base of the statue. She sent out a little apology to Cadance, opened her eyes, and let her magic go.

A ball of fiery light burst from her horntip and sailed screaming to the base of the podium, joined quickly by a little pop as a shield spell burst to life, sealing the statue in its confines. The blast shattered marble and stone in a fiery ball so violent that Twilight’s bodyguard jumped feet in the air, yelping loudly. Twilight shot him a smirk, standing confidently beside her handiwork and its self-contained devastation. And here my prisoner thought I was incompetent...

When the dust had settled, Twilight muttered the proper counterspell and dissolved her protective bubble. Crisp, cold air rushed through her mane, and as she cleared the rubble she found herself staring into a pitch-black hole in the statue’s heart. A little star sprang from her horn, spreading its clear white light overhead. Peering in, she found a rough stone staircase spiraling further into the earth. She gave her bodyguard a little wink, then stepped through the hole and into the dark.

No slick steps or grand caverns, nor any reason for fear. As it hadn’t been in the belly of Canterlot, this tunnel filled her with fascination, not dread. Despite everything, there was something in the air that made her eager, filled her head with theories as to the tunnel’s purpose. When she finally came to the end, all those theories drained away. No smuggler’s den filled with treasure. No danger. Merely a heavy wooden door, its handle blasted apart, ringed in scorch marks. Twilight pressed her weight against the door until she was able to will it open. Then, with a nudge, she drew her bodyguard close and stepped inside.

Her little star flitted to the ceiling, casting its light over what appeared to be a study room. Books and documents draped in cobwebs sat in piles along the walls. A toppled globe, half-burned, sat at the room’s heart, unmoved for what looked like centuries. Random parchments inked with unrecognizable scribbling littered the floor, while a set of books sat carefully on what remained of a wooden table. Twilight looked about, finding nothing to catch her eye save the glint of silver from atop the nearby workstation. It was a lure in the dark, and before she knew Twilight felt herself seated at the ancient desk, looking about in wonder.

There was something about the books scattered on the table that demanded her reverence. She could feel them almost watching her, waiting for her to touch them as though she might be the one to finally uncover their secrets. Twilight drew them close, laying them out in an orderly line. The first, bound in brown, had been stamped with a symbol very much alike the one on Star-Swirl’s spellbook for young foals, but there was no warmth in it. This symbol was cold, rough-hewn and alien, alluding to nothing. Twilight opened it carefully to find herself reading gibberish. Every character was nothing more than scribbled runes penned hastily into a sprawling mass seemingly without syntax. Still, though, someone had taken the time to record it. It had to have had some function, but unless there was some key to decode it, it was useless. For now, at least.

The second book was just like the first: gibberish. Naught for two. Twilight swept it aside, but not before a fleeting image caught her eye. Opening up the inside cover, she found the same comet-and-star mark from before. But it alone had some meaning; every page from cover to cover was marked in an indecipherable language. The latter pages seemed to be filled with drawings, sketches, and hastily scratched out images, but Twilight couldn’t be sure. She was only certain of the fact that these books were special, unintelligible though they were.

Twilight wrapped the two up in her magic and slid them into her saddlebags. If she pushed it, there would be room for the final book: a thick manuscript, well-worn on the edges, a hoof-and-heart mark inked in gold on its cover. Flipping through the first few pages, Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, actual intelligible words! But this, as opposed to the others, was no mere book. Every page’s corner was marked with a date, the text below it delineated with times and occurrences of events and their outcomes. Reading through, an elegantly penned Gilded Lands stood out amongst the text. Twilight broke out into a smile. In her hooves was a journal, a day-to-day account of Platinum’s kingdom. A perfect addition, Twilight mused, slipping the book into her saddlebags. The last piece of the collection.

“What is this place,” the guard said, astonished, glancing over the tower of books on the wall. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“A study,” Twilight replied, looking over at the various trinkets and documents littering the table. “Someone used this chamber as their workplace.”

“Someone was working inside a statue? A little odd, don’t you think?”

“Odd doesn’t even begin to cover it. I can see why it might have been preferred, though. No distractions. No ponies getting in your way. It’s relaxing, in a way.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said, kicking a book in her direction. Its pages were lined in scribbling, more ink than paper, filled to every margin with rough illustrations and utter nonsense. A small faded flower had been stamped on its cover. “We’ve seen nothing but these scribbles, Twilight, both here and upstairs. I get the feeling they put that statue there for a reason. Someone must’ve snapped. How else do you explain it?”

Twilight looked to the scribbles and shrugged. “I see it as someone’s train of thought. Sometimes, to flush something out, it helps to write it down. Anything helps, even if it's gibberish. Seeing something on a page helps distance thoughts from the world around you, frees them from anything that might trouble you.” Twilight felt herself beam as she looked at the pages. “I’ve learned to place a lot of stock in journals in the course of my life. I can only assume this means the world to whomever this belonged to.”

“And do you have any idea who that might be?”

“I bet, given time, I can find out.”

Gingerly she floated the book to her saddlebags, slipping it in the cracks with a satisfied smile. A perfect fit, which could only mean one thing: it was finally time to leave. Twilight looked to the scorched walls and memorized every crack, every cobweb in the corners and the half-burned candles nearby. She looked to the tunnel from whence they came and the last shreds of light from above. A part of her yearned to leave this place, to begin the search and dive into the little universes clanking about on her flanks. But this was home, and no matter how eager she was to find Luna her body seemed resolute to stay. It took her a few more minutes to gather the courage to pull herself away, but with a strong little breath she turned to her bodyguard, checked the buckles on her bags, and gave him a quiet nod. “There's nothing more we can do here. It’s time to go.”

Quietly she unfurled her wings, spreading them wide over the two of them. He drew close to her without reservation, their priceless atlas slung over his back, keeping an eye on her as she conjured forth her magic. A ball of flickering purple light sprang to the middle of the room, ripping the air and whirling the room into a gale. Twilight stepped forward to meet it, but as she drew close she felt him recede behind her. She turned to him to find him stock-still, watching her quietly. “What’s wrong,” she asked, concern in her eyes.

He stared, terrified. Then, with a little gulp, he raised his head up proudly and gave her a smile. “You asked me before, but I never really gave you an answer. It’s Summer. My... my name is Summer.”

Twilight looked over the disheveled state of his helmet’s crest, saw the scratches dotting his armor... Saw him, in all his dirtiness, in all his fear and uncertainty, but not as a bodyguard. Not as a soldier. Twilight saw him look back at her, and found hope. ”I’m glad you’re with me,” she said, bowing her head. She felt his helmet’s crest brush her hair as he did the same, and there, locked together with mutual respect, Twilight knew the path ahead. She turned to her spell, drew him close, shared a nod, and stepped with him into her ball of light. The world slipped away, pulling them onwards for parts and fates unknown, bringing her closer to a new world full of danger. But that notion didn’t frighten her as she’d expected. There was nothing to fear, no promises the twisted Penumbra could make to make her feel any less hopeful for success. They would succeed. They would find Luna and bring her home. They would find a way to rid the virulent curse running rampant in that heart of hearts. No Lord of Shadows could take that away from her. No daughter of darkness could make her feel otherwise. She knew in her heart everything would turn out for the best. Twilight closed her eyes and let the world sail past, her bodyguard close-by, side-by-side with all the hope in the world.

Side-by-side with a friend.