I am War.

One part of the castle was extremely important to Celestia. It was one of the things that her kingdom didn’t know about, but she treasured it more than anything else in that white marble palace. The entire area was a “restricted access: authorized personnel only” zone and four guards were placed by the door leading to it. Any pony that looked at the schematics of the palace would notice that it appeared as a terrace, and had a glass roof.

This wasn’t true at all, of course. At no point did it have a roof. Nor was it a terrace.

It was Celestia’s private air strip.

The whole place, as well as the air space above and around the castle; was a “no fly zone”. Any Pegasus that flew over it would find himself accosted by three burly guards, and ordered to land at a designated area for screening. Running wasn’t smart; they had bows, and would use them if needed.

Celestia often thought that it was a bit heavy handed, but at times like this, she prized it almost as much as the time she spent with her sister, which wasn’t much these days, unfortunately.

The chariot swung in, and with a light thump, landed on the strip.  It was sunk about ten meters into the roof, and to the left was a heavy set of doors, which opened with equally heavy thumps. Luna galloped out, with a large Celestia sized wheel chair in tow, and placed it right next to the chariot with a small rattle.

Celestia slowly moved over to the wheel chair, taking half crawling, half stepping movements, before sitting heavily in the chair with a hiss. Luna nodded at the Pegasus, and lightly steered it towards her with a dark glow of her horn, Celestia staring ahead with an irritated look on her face. “Thank you Luna.” she said, “Mind moving your older sister to the bedroom?”

Luna nodded and began to wheel Celestia down the hall way. “Have you been flying again, sister?” asked Luna, “You know you should not.”

“Thank you very much, Luna.” snapped Celestia, “I’ll just put that with the recommendations of those useless doctors, shall I?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Lulu.”

“It is alright,” Luna said, pushing the wheel chair through the double doors into the palace proper, “I am aware you do not mean it.”

“It’s just...” Celestia sighed before continuing, “My wings don’t work properly. I can’t run; I can’t even trot... I’m just... I’m tired of this.”

“That is fine,” said Luna, turning the chair to face a heavy door marked with Celestia’s cutie mark, “You have every right to be tired. Would you have me perform your duties while you rest?”

“Thanks, Lulu.” Said Celestia, as the door opened before her in a purple glow, “You always did try to look after me.”

The room was rather spare, but what was in there was rich and vibrant; a bed of rich white and gold in the middle, with a bookshelf off to one side. The bookshelf contained not fiction, but reference materials and tax codes, along with laws and regulations. On the bed was a crumpled pile of paper, each covered in lines and lines of Celestia’s tight, cursive writing.

To the right hand side, opposite the books, laid a table just large enough for easy access. On it was a steel medical tray with thin medical syringes, each filled with clear fluid. A bright yellow box with a hazard symbol was flat on the floor, and Luna lifted it up with a sigh, putting it back on the tray.

Luna wheeled Celestia over to the bed, where she heaved herself out of the chair and flopped down on the bed, gently shifting her bulk into a less painful position and lifting up the bed covers with the golden aura of her magic, sending the paper fluttering to the ground. Luna stood by the bed as her older sister slowly moved under the sheets.

“Lulu?” said Celestia, stopping Luna at the door.

“Yes, my sister?”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“I am aware, sister.” And with that, Luna shut Celestia’s door, and trotted out of the room; while Celestia lay in her bed, and lifted up one of the needles.

Luna sat in the high backed marble throne of her sister. Generally, there was supposed to be two, but the Ebony throne wasn’t complete yet. The monthly court was an occasion that nearly every noble with an agenda visited. If a noble needed to know about things, or had something to say, that noble went to the monthly courts.

Most nobles simply gave reports, or gave what they felt that the royal sisters needed to know. Usually, there were no more than five or six visitors at a time. When Luna held court for the first time, there were nearly a hundred ponies to see her. Most wanted to know about the new boss, some just wanted to be there, and some had business.

The angry mob with pitchforks was stopped at the gates, forcing Celestia to come out herself and reassure the crowd that nothing was wrong. It worked, and now only one or two paranoid or retarded nobles made a fuss about her presence. Almost no-pony listened to their complaints about Luna anymore.

Luna’s favourite part was the contrast between nobles.

One noble stood, steely eyed and rigid, his elaborate 500 bit suit straining to keep his bulging muscles in. Another was dressed in an equally expensive suit, but bobbed his head about as he listened to a portable music device, black buds buried in his ears. A mare sat in a plain dress, holding a newspaper before her with her magic, and sipping from a paper cup from the local Starbits. Those about to talk to Luna put away mobile game platforms, books or other such objects, straightening their clothes and brushing down their manes.

“I am afraid that Celestia will not be hosting these courts,” said Luna, “Due to an incident with an Ursa Major, she will be resting for a while.”

The nobles nodded. An incident with an Ursa Major would leave even Celestia tired.

“What exactly happened?” asked a Noble, White Metal, in this case.

“The Ursa was threatening a small town, and as such, Celestia headed out to protect her subjects.”

The nobles nodded, the reason going down like smooth cream. And with that, Luna opened the court.

Mostly it was requests, updates on issues, even an explanation on why taxes were late from the University. One pony even came forwards to ask about what updates the tax code would face. But the most interesting was when one particular noble came forth with a story of a giant with black chitin armour.

“And it was most upsetting, and what are we...”

“Hold.” Luna raised her hoof, and looked the Noble straight in the eye, “Describe the monster again.”

“Of course, your majesty,” The noble bowed low, and began again, “The behemoth stood almost twice the height of your beloved sister, and had a jet black shell, like a beetle...”

“Was the insect wearing purple robes?” demanded Luna.

“I... Well... yes, your majesty...?”

Luna leapt to her feet, “The court is now closed!’ she called as she ran as fast as she could for the door behind the throne.

“But your majesty...”

Ignoring the protests behind her, Luna galloped as hard as she could through the halls, heading straight for her sister. She slid past a guard sideways as she dashed for a corner, leapt over a maid half bowed, and even went underneath a levitating couch flat on her side.

Luna came to Celestia’s study, and ran right through the doors, slamming them open with such force that they left dents in the plaster. She hopped over the table, scattering books and ran towards the connecting passage to Celestia’s room.

She burst through the doors, scattering papers in a gust of wind, “Dearest sister, I- WHEREISTHE-!” Celestia winced as Luna tripped over a low chair, and thudded right into the side of the bed, “Ow.”

“Little exited, are we?” as Celestia, smirking as the younger got to her hooves, massaging her skull.

“What foolish servant left that stool in such a ridiculous position?” Demanded Luna as she righted herself, “Such stupidity should be punished... urgh...”

“Yes, well maybe if you weren’t in such a rush, that wouldn’t of have happened.” said Celestia, raising her eyebrow at her sister’s antics.

“Yes, well,” said Luna, waving her hoof around to show, better than she could phrase, her opinions of the servant’s idiotic natures, “Are you feeling well?”

“Oh, yes!” smiled Celestia, “I praise the day that pony kind invented medical morphine syringes that could be taken home and used!”

“Yes,” said Luna, “Perhaps we can invite the inventors for dinner and give them medals, but I have some news.”

Luna stretched to her full height, and allowed a great big smile to reach across her face, “Excolotis has returned!” With a giddy squeal, Luna began to prance in place, following her tail round and round in circles, “It is most wondrous news, is it not!”

Celestia thought fast. “I knew I forgot something.” She said, “I ran into Excolotis shortly after I met with the Ursa.”

“And you did not tell me.” Luna looked straight at her sister, “Why did you not tell me?”

“Well I was in quite a bit of pain, Luna.” said Celestia, “I can’t be expected to say everything if I can’t really focus much.”

“Nevertheless...” said Luna, holding up a hoof, “You would think that Excolotis returning is important.”

“Oh, but it is.” Sighed Celestia, “But I need to manage damage control. A giant in black armour? The God of War? Can you imagine how worrying that is? Last thing we need are our neighbours deciding to launch a pre-emptive strike; we can’t afford a war.”

“Yes, but what do you plan to do?”

Celestia sighed, and pulled herself upright, “History is a funny thing, Lulu; it’s being examined, checked, double... even triple checked by historians. All we have to do is... present the facts. If they learn of what happened through a secondary source... who knows how they’ll take it. We must present them with the truth, Lulu, because who can argue with cold, hard facts?”

“Everyone.” said Luna.

Celestia gave Luna a look, “You know what I meant. The point is; we need to make sure that we can avoid a war. Right now, the Historians Society at the university will help me deal with this.”

“Have you managed to convince them to assist you, dear sister?” asked Luna.

“Not yet.”

“Of course,” said Luna, “And what of me?”

“Simple,” said Celestia, “Go find me... yes, go find Spider Script, he’s the head of the Historians Society. Round about now, he’ll be in the University. The Chancellor should help you.”

The Historians Society operated from the university, and was made up of various professors from the classes, along with a few students and post graduates. Such ponies tended to go about on rather enthusiastic walks, a map coated in a water proof material hung around their necks and various explorer’s related Cutie Marks. They often claimed that the truth ‘belonged to everyone’ but still got into massive arguments with what they viewed as their rights to discover the truth, even if it meant digging through the volcanoes and mountains claimed by the dragon clans as a meeting point; along with a treaty stating that no ponies were allowed anywhere nearby said volcanoes and mountains in over three thousand words.

Such ponies were not to be trifled with as they often became rather... intense. It was not uncommon for these ponies to commit suicide via Dragon, Manticore, Basilisk, or Gryphon, and as such, were a rather embarrassing problem for relations between the foreign realms and Celestia.

The university itself was an impressive white marble and brass mansion. At the dawn its glare would often cut across the town, severely angering a certain nocturnal Alicorn until someone, namely Celestia, explained exactly what curtains were, and what they were for.

The roof actually had a massive discolouration that, according to staff, was due to the result of a ‘magical incident’. According to the students it was “When this huge mother fucking dragon, just, like,fucking burst though that bitch! Fuck me, but that was awesome!”

Out the front, immaculate gardens and hedges were arranged in a pleasing geometric pattern, while gravel pathways led to the different buildings, signs dotted here and there to explain where to go. Luna herself was walking down these pathways, just coming up to the flower clock.

The flower clock was an invention of Green Roses, a brilliant, if not rather insane, botanist who had managed to break the basic laws of biology in every day work. Only fifty years ago, experts had vehemently denied that you could grow triangular oranges. Green Roses did it. They had also claimed that an oak tree could not grow if you removed the trunk from said oak tree and that it would, in fact, die. Green Roses managed to pull it off, and then had built a tire swing through the gap; the tree top had continued to actually float in mid air in a blatant disregard of physics, and even more, was still alive and well today.

Various psychiatrists gained many new patients that day.

But the flower clock was one of her masterpieces. Most flower clocks merely look like one, or use a tree as a sort of sundial to tell the time. Green Roses had out done both. Botanists throughout the world had broken down and cried at the tulips that opened up at three o’ clock in the morning, every day, without fail.

As Luna trotted up to the building, many ponies bowed low, making some of the nearby sports Pegasus glance over, making appreciative noises and nodding their heads. Judging from the sounds, their hoof ball coach did not approve of their lack of concentration. Nevertheless, Luna ignored the commotion and bounded up the stairs, bumping open the door with a burst of magic.

The inside halls were simple white stone, vents dotting the inside as a result of retrofitting the whole building with air conditioning and vents. As Luna trotted down, the university chancellor stepped through the double doors at the end. For just a moment, his face registered complete and utter terror, before smoothing into a look of calm and serene knowledge.

“Princess Luna,” he said, “For what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I require the use of the Historians Society.” stated Luna, “Where might I find them?”

“The Historians Society,” the chancellor said, “can be found two floors up in room 23/b. But I am afraid that they are...”

WHAM!

Luna blinked; a bald pony had just slammed open the stair way door. But that was not unusual. What was unusual was the fact that the pony was completely bald. Now when most think of bald, they think that the pony has no mane, but it was more than that. The pony had no fur, anywhere on his body. Not even a Cutie Mark adorned his flank; it had vanished along with his fur.

The stallion looked at the chancellor, a look of utter fury on his face, his mismatched eyes, one red, the other green bearing down on his victim. His nostrils flared and steam came out as he snorted; a vein twitching visibly on his head, and a news paper tucked under one hoof.

“Chancellor!” the infuriated stallion raged; “Have you seen this shit?”

“What is it now Spider Script?”

“That’s DOCTOR Spider Script to you, I didn’t bust my fucking flank for those pre-historic cluster fucks to get called anything less!” raged the bald pony, “But this... this foul journalistic fucked up shit will not stand! I won’t lie down like some piss weak fuck’tard and get fucked up the god-damn ass by these retarded jack-offs!"

“Yes,” sighed the chancellor, “But if it isn’t important, I’ve got to deal with Luna here, so do you mind?”

“Luna?” said Spider Script, “What’re you doing here, huh? There isn’t anything that’d interest you, I’d wager. So what the fuck do you want?”

“My title,” said Luna, “Is Princess.”

“Oh that’s real nice, your majesty,” said Spider, making the title sound like an insult, “Why don’t I just get down and eat out your fucking pussy, huh? That makes you happy?”

Luna’s eyes narrowed and she looked at Spider Script like a doctor might look at a particularly disgusting tumour, interesting, but still foul and disgusting. If Celestia didn't want to see him so badly... “And just who are you?” She asked.

“Me?” said Spider Script, “I’m the head of the Historians Society. Not so important, I know, but I fucking earned it.”

“Very well then,” said Luna, “I wanted to tell you that Celestia needs your assistance right now.”

In a moment, Spider Script went from ‘barely contained fury’ to ‘concerned, model citizen’, much to Luna’s surprise.

“Celestia?” he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I do apologize,” said Luna, “I was half expecting hatred filled bile about how she did not earn her power, or a stream of foul words and insults.”

“No,” said Spider Script, “Celestia’s earned her respect. She’s... Fuck, she’s the only real good thing about the ruling class.”

“Very well,” said Luna, “let us go.”

“Ah, hold up, it’s Daisy to Nelumbo Nucifera. Let’s go get lunch on the way. I want Burger Queen.”

“Very well, that is a small request.”

“And you’re paying.’

“That is not.”

The barn at sweet apple acres was, once again, the site of a major clean up.

The floor had been swept again, tables had been set up, and Pinkie pie had found a ladder, and had climbed up it to affix streamers to the top.  Fluttershy had flown up and pegged a massive banner across the top, with a welcome message printed on it. The tables were laden with cakes and sweets.

“Um... Pinkie?” said Fluttershy.

“Yes, Fluttershy?” Pinkie asked.

“Well...” Fluttershy flitted back down to the ground, “How did you get all these cakes? Wouldn’t it cost a lot?”

“You’d be amazed how cheap it is to buy in bulk.” nodded Pinkie.

“Well,” continued Fluttershy, “Why did you tell Excolotis about the party? Don’t you usually prefer to host surprise parties?”

“Oh, Fluttershy,” Pinkie Pie said, shaking her head, “Don’t you remember Gilda’s party? I never set up any pranks. And do you know why? Because Gilda doesn’t like being pranked, and much like Gilda, Excolotis hates surprises. So I told him about it so that he wouldn’t be angry and upset.”

“That makes sense.” Fluttershy nodded. “But what I don’t...”

The barn door opened.

“Oh, hello,” said Fluttershy, “I didn’t know Excolotis had any griffin friends.”

“He doesn’t, dummkopf.”

With a thud, the door shut.