Talk about a night of surprises.

I mean, I understood by then that this world played by its own set of rules that were nothing like on Earth, and that magic here permeated almost everything. But what had happened by the fountain that night defied even the loose expectations that I'd developed. According to Twilight, ponies were connected via a weird form of magical empathy called, fittingly enough, “Harmony”- and in times of conflict, high emotions or large-scale cooperation, that Harmony sometimes came to express itself through one or more ponies, in what they usually called a “song moment” or “musical number”. Twilight, of course, had a more complex name for it that Sveti didn't understand well enough to translate for me.

All of that was strange enough, but to have seen Farris Wheel of all ponies stepping up to sing about tolerance and resisting racism... well, I didn't know how to feel about it. I wasn't going to forgive him or the rest of Big Top's old crew for what they'd done to Sveti and I- but I wasn't so blinded by hate as to ignore that he'd defused what could have been a very nasty situation. And Twilight had assured me that the Harmony effect only amplified a pony's deepest feelings, which meant that it couldn't have been an act meant to garner sympathy. Sveti and I hadn't discussed it yet, but I could tell that her feelings about the event were as torn as mine.

Sveti herself had ended up being the source of the second surprise that night. Twilight had somehow managed to put together a spell to give the recipient a basic understanding of the English language, and under the reasoning that it'd be beneficial for us, had cast that spell on Sveti. Thus I'd spent the remainder of the night giving her an impromptu language lesson, staying up until three in the morning doing nothing but letting her try out her new knowledge; I found it both interesting and amusing that her English seemed to have a fairly thick nordish or icelandic accent to it, which thinned a bit as she got better at speaking.

Finally, with both of us spending more time yawning than talking, we agreed to call it a night so that we could be up at something resembling a normal hour in the morning. “Ancestors, this is tricky,” she murmured in the pony language. “How did you even manage to learn Equish without any magical help when this is what you were starting with?”

“Well, I had a couple of good teachers,” I replied in English, with a grin. “Though I wish I was as good at speaking it as I like to think I am.”

“You do fine. Though... I do kind of like listening to you speak in English, now that I can understand it.” She cocked her head to the side. “Why call it that, though? Was it named after a country or something?”

“Right. England, specifically. Pretty long-lived empire that became a democracy.”

“So humankind has had empires too?”

“Oh, at least half a dozen through our history. We've tried almost any sort of government you could come up with. Monarchy, theocracy, despotism, democracy, republic, fascism... you name it, there's probably a country back home that's tried it.”

“Huh. My homeland has been an empire for all our recorded history. Emperor Drottin is the thirty-sixth in his line, and came to power when his mother abdicated because of poor health.”

“And gryphons never chose to try something else?”

“Oh, there's always been advocates for changing the government... but we're a traditionalist society, and change doesn't really come easy for most of us.”

My reply was cut off by yet another yawn. “...okay, yeah. Bed.” I managed to pull myself up from the chair and helped Sveti out of hers. “We'll pick this back up in the morning.” I smiled. “Happy Hearth's Warming Day, by the way.”

“And happy....” She paused. “Err, rather... Merry Christmas, I think it was?”

I gave her a grin. “You got it right. And thanks. Sleep well, Sveti.”

“You too, Peter.”

(-)

“I had the weirdest dream last night. Oh, and thanks.” Sveti took the mug of coffee that Peter handed her, grinning at his curious expression. “I dreamed that I was singing, in English. I can't remember what exactly I was singing, unfortunately... but I was up on that fountain in Equinox Square, singing to a crowd of humans.”

“Humans, huh? Interesting dream.” They'd agreed that he'd only speak English to her when no one else was around, but seeing as how the rest of the staff had headed to their homes for the holiday, there was no worry of being overheard. “Last night must have made an impact on you, too.”

“Part of it is probably my brain sorting out the sudden new language skills. But the rest... yeah.” She took a sip of her coffee, feeling the hot liquid flow down her throat. “What do you think, Peter?”

She knew she didn't have to elaborate; his expression was as easy for her to read by now as any griffin's, and she could see the same feeling of thoughtful confusion on that flat, bare-skinned face that was running through her own mind. “You know... I'm not sure,” he said. “Is it wrong of me to still be angry at them for what they did?”

“You're asking the wrong griffin. I can't give an unbiased opinion myself.” She let out a quiet sigh. “I was okay with not thinking about them at all, but I suppose that's not very healthy, huh?”

“Probably not.” He ended up having to trade a new word with her- “psychology”, one that his knowledge of Equish and her English translation spell both lacked. Once again Sveti couldn't help but enjoy building her understanding of her friend's language. “So yeah, any psychologist would probably say that we need to overcome our feelings and move on.”

“We don't put a lot of stock in psychology in the Empire,” she chuckled. “But I guess you're right. It's just something easier said than done.”

“Well, I think we're allowed to put it off for a little while, at least.” He set his mug down on the table and stood. “I can think of something else to do while we work it out.”

“What have you got in mind?”

His reply caught her by surprise. “I want to get you familiarized with the handgun.”

And so it came to pass that the two of them spent the holiday morning training Sveti how to effectively use a weapon from another world. He couldn't allow her to actually fire it- there was no place to safely do so- but he drilled her on how to handle it, unload and reload it, how to aim, and when to fire, as well as when not to. Her claws were actually a little sore when they finished the lesson; she wasn't used to using them to hold and manipulate something so extensively. “Okay,” he said once they'd sat back down in the study. “When do you put a talon on the trigger?”

“When you want to fire, and never before.”

“And when do you fire?”

“When you're sure of your target, sure of your background and sure that it's necessary.”

“Warning shots?”

“Are stupid.”

“Shooting to injure?”

“Is a bad idea. The target might not be incapacitated and could still be dangerous, not to mention the shot could miss and hit someone else.”

“Then what do you do when you're sure of your target and need to kill?”

“Fire three rounds into their center of mass. Don't be afraid to keep firing if needed.”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Now... if you had to, do you think you could?”

She looked at him for a moment before lowering her head. “...I'm not sure.”

“Good, honest answer.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Sveti, that night we escaped... that was the first time I'd ever fired a weapon at anything living. If you'd asked me that question before then, I'd have given you the same answer. Now I know that you understand what that weapon can do, how to use it properly and when not to use it at all. I'd trust you at my back with it anyday.”

She felt herself blushing. “I just hope I don't ever have to do that. I'm no warrior.”

“Neither am I, remember?” He shrugged. “We're in over our heads. It's best to have every option we can open to us.”

“And you're sure you still don't trust yourself with it?”

“Not until we work out some way to keep me from having a reaction to magic being used on me.”

“I understand.” Carefully, she placed the weapon back in its case, which she closed and locked, and together they put it back in its secured spot in the study. “Do you think I might have a chance to actually fire it?”

“I'd like for you to, though only a couple rounds, so you can know what it feels like. If we were back home, I'd take you out for a day at the firing range, let you take as much time as you want.”

“That sounds like it'd be interesting.” She chuckled. “Hm... it's only quarter past noon. You know what I'd like to see?”

“Hm?”

“I'd like to see another drawing from you.”

“Heh. Sure, why not?” he grinned. “If it's not too windy, we could even go up on the roof.”

“The roof? Why?”

“Because, my dear griffin, in all the time I've known you I've hardly ever seen you fly. So I want to do a sketch of you in the air.”

She couldn't keep the grin off her beak. “Alright then. Go put on your coat and grab your pad; I'll meet you up there.”

She was only waiting a couple of minutes before he came through the rooftop entrance. His drawing pad and pencil weren't the only things he held in his hands, however; she recognized his music player as well. “Going to listen to some music while you sketch?” she asked.

“No, actually I thought you might like to instead.” He smiled, holding out the small device for her. “I'm trying not too use it too much because I won't be able to recharge it forever... but I think I can justify this to myself as helping you with the language.”

She smiled warmly at him as she carefully took the player in her claws. “I think I'm not going to try to argue you out of it.”

He quickly showed her how to use the device, then took a seat with his back against the entranceway door- which handily protected him from the slight but chilly breeze- and set his pad against his knees. She snapped her wings out and gave a few strong flaps to get airborne, then hovered in place for a moment. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Enjoy yourself!” He grinned. “Just fly. I'll come up with a pose.”

So she did, tracing lazy swoops and turns in the empty sky, letting her instincts handle the task of flying while she listened to the strange yet enjoyable human music stored on the tiny device she held in her claw. The experience was so relaxing, so all-enveloping, that she completely lost track of time and was only broken out of the spell by catching Peter waving up at her from the corner of her eye. She gave him a sheepish grin as she came to a landing. “Sorry,” she said. “How long were you trying to get my attention?”

“Five minutes.” He ruffled her crest. “I don't mind, though. It was a lot of fun watching you up there. I'm sort of jealous I couldn't join you.”

“I'd loan you my wings if I could. Ancestors know I don't put them to use as much as I should.” She shook them out, causing a couple of loose feathers to go sailing into the breeze. “Guh. See? And I've been slacking on my preening, too.”

“Do you want any help with that?”

She actually stopped for a split-second, taken aback by the offer, before she remembered that Peter very likely didn't understand the cultural significance it held to a griffin. “I, uh... well....” Come on, Sveti. He only wants to help. “...sure. I'd appreciate it.”

Unsurprisingly, he caught her reaction. “...did I say something wrong?” he asked.

You promised him you'd be open with him, she chided herself. “It's, um... not wrong, no. Just sort of... well, if a tercel offers to groom a hen's wings out of the blue like that, especially if they're well-acquainted, it's... err, often an invitation for her to get to know him a lot more intimately.”

He stared at her blankly for a long moment before realization crossed his face. “You mean-”

“Forming the beast with four wings. Right.” She ran her claws through her crest. “Ancestors, why can't I talk about this like a normal adult hen?”

“I, uh... I think I get it.” One of the more notable things about Peter's face was that, without anything covering the skin, it was really easy to see when he was blushing. “This is one of those 'griffin rules', isn't it?”

“Yeah. I mean, I'm not angry; there's no way you could've known. It just, uh... kind of caught me by surprise.”

“Understandable. I'm just glad you're not upset.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, let's get back inside. Even with this coat I'm getting chilly up here.”

“Fair enough.” She gave him a grateful smile as he opened the door for her, but it wasn't until she was back on the ground floor that a realization struck her: While he'd been embarrassed when she'd told him the cultural implications of his offer, he'd neither apologized nor taken it back. But before she could reflect on what that meant- or let him go through with his offer- she heard a bell chime. “Someone's at the front door,” she said.

(-)

“You're sure you want to go through with this?”

In front of her, Aircolt Wind let out a slightly-annoyed sigh. “Sarge, that's the fourth time you've asked me that,” he said quietly, leaning against the legrest of his wheelchair to look back at her. “I'd think you didn't want to do this if you hadn't volunteered.”

“I just think it's a bad idea,” Air Sergeant York told him.

His eyes locked onto hers. “Sergeant, permission to speak freely?”

“Go ahead.”

“What the hay is going on with you? Ever since what happened in Ponyville, it's like you're a completely different pony. Everypony in the unit thinks so, even the ones who were agreeing with you about Peter.”

“I don't-” She fell silent when she heard the front door unlatch, and looked up as it opened slowly to reveal Sveti Windwhisper on the other side, gazing at them both with reserved friendliness.

“Err... what can I do for you?” the griffin asked.

Wind's response was immediate, giving York no time to speak. “I'd like to talk to Peter Collins, if I could.”

“Who...?” She paused, glancing inside at something, then nodded. “Come inside, please,” she said, pulling the door open wider and gesturing with a claw for them to enter. York pushed the wheelchair past her, feeling almost immediately the toasty warmth of the reception area against her hide; her pegasus resistance to the cold didn't prevent her from appreciating the warmer air.

Standing a few feet away from the door was the creature that had dominated York's thoughts for months. It was just hanging up a coat, looking over its shoulder at them, its expression obviously pensive despite the alien shape of its face. Slowly it turned towards them, clasping its hands behind its back.

And then it spoke.

“Um... hello, Aircolt Wind. You look well. Who is your friend?”

Its words were a bit halting, its accent fairly thick, but still York found herself taken aback by how well it spoke. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised; she'd been told it could talk, and had even been receiving language lessons from Princess Twilight... but to hear it speak Equish so clearly just felt odd, somehow.

“This is Air Sergeant Peppermint York. She's my immediate superior, and she volunteered to help get me here today.”

To her surprise, the creature gave her a smile. “Hello, Sergeant. It's nice to meet you.”

“I, um... likewise,” she murmured.

Sveti made her way to the creature's side, her gaze focused on the pony in the wheelchair. “Aircolt Wind?” she asked. “Are you the guard who Peter injured?”

“I am, yes, Miss Windwhisper.” He raised a hoof. “Please, don't be alarmed. I'm not here to start any sort of trouble. I just wanted to talk.”

The creature nodded. “Okay. Either of you hungry? We about to have lunch.”

“I wouldn't turn down a sandwich,” Wind chuckled; York simply shook her head.

“I'll get something for us, then,” Sveti said. “Peter, why don't you show them to the study?”

“Okay.” The griffin loped off down the hall, and the creature showed them into a small, cozy room with a small fireplace along one wall; the yeti- or the “human”, she'd been told- warmed its hands before the fire for a moment before taking a seat. York parked Wind's wheelchair next to an overstuffed reading chair on the opposite side of the room, then took a seat, trying to force herself to relax. “Aircolt Wind-” it began.

Wind raised a hoof again. “Please, just Wind. Or Swift. Whichever you like.”

“Okay. Wind... I know you were in hospital for long while. Asked for permission to visit several times, was denied; was told might hurt your healing.”

“You were?” Wind seemed genuinely taken aback. “I don't know why you were told that, Mister Collins-”

“Just Peter. Please.”

“-Peter. Sorry. Nopony ever told me you wanted to see me. I would've agreed.”

“Oh.” Things went quiet for a short while. “Was wondering why you were in hospital so long.”

“I'm allergic to a common ingredient in most healing potions. It's really a problem sometimes, seriously. Healing magic works a lot more slowly, so I was stuck in the hospital for a while.”

“Is it blisterwort?” Sveti accompanied her words into the room, carrying a small tray on her back, which she set onto the table before lifting a plate laden with sandwiches and bringing it to Wind. “We have a few leftover sandwiches from dinner last night. There's hay and dandelion ones, and a couple of soybean and tulip ones as well. I warmed them up for you.”

“I love tulips. Thanks.” He gave the griffin a wide smile as he picked up one of the sandwiches and took a bite. “Oh, after so much hospital food, this tastes wonderful. So how'd you guess the allergy was blisterwort?”

“When the embassy was still running, one of the staff that worked here had the same allergy. We kept a note by the medical supplies telling not to give her any of the potions we kept at claw just in case anyone forgot, or if a new staffer hadn't been told. Thankfully she never ended up needing medical attention.”

“Oh, well, that's good. If her allergy was as severe as mine, things probably would've gotten serious.”

The creature nodded. “So... Wind, can ask why you came by today?”

“Well, for one, I had to get out of that hospital, at least for a little while, or I was going to go stir-crazy.” He grinned as both the creature and Sveti chuckled. “Two... well. I wanted to know more about you, Peter. About how you ended up in Ponyville in the first place before what happened. It's been hard to get a straight story out of anypony, and Princess Twilight told me at one point that I should just ask you if I ever got a chance. So I decided to make a chance happen.”

The creature and the griffin gave each other a glance before the yeti spoke. “There things... Princesses not want me to say,” it said. “But can tell rest.”

York really didn't want to be here for this, but she couldn't think of an excuse to leave that wouldn't sound utterly hollow- she had promised Wind that she'd stick around in case he needed help- so she had no choice but to sit and listen as it spoke. I just need to keep my mind firm, she thought. Don't let whatever magic it uses get to me.

But she really had no choice but to listen to the creature's tale, and as she heard it lay out exactly what had happened to both it and the griffin, she slowly began to feel her resolve crack. This can't be true. It can't be! This doesn't happen in Equestria! The ponies I protect don't do things like this!

“You're lying,” she found herself saying.

The creature went silent instantly, and the griffin's eyes narrowed. “What?” she queried, an edge already in her voice.

“You're lying. You have to be lying. Damn you to Tartarus, what is it you do that makes ponies believe you so easily?! You even had me feeling sorry for you!” She leapt out of the chair, coming to hover at eye level with the creature barely a foreleg's length from its face, staring into its eyes, completely ignoring the angry squawk coming from the griffin.

“Sarge, what the buck?! Stand down!” she barely heard Wind yelp.

“You had better back the pluck off, Sergeant,” Sveti practically growled in her ear, having taken to the air herself to hover right by the yeti's side.

“I want an answer.” York clenched her teeth, glaring into the creature's eyes, waiting for it to make a move.

Instead, it glanced between her and its griffin companion, and then uttered five quiet, carefully-spoken words.

“I will show you proof.”

Her anger was pushed aside for the moment by confusion, and she dropped to the floor, stepping back a couple of meters as the creature raised its arms to tug its loose-fitting shirt over its head, then tossed the clothing onto the chair and turned to show its back to her. And what she saw on its back made her gasp in shock- a thick, livid scar decorated the bare skin over its shoulder blade, almost as long as her fetlock. “That....” she stammered. “How does that... prove anything...?”

“Peter got that scar from Big Top,” Sveti replied. “Top whipped him during one of the 'shows'. Since magic can't be used on Peter, and the other ponies in the sideshow didn't have proper medical training, the wound scarred over permanently.”

“...no, that....” York shook her head in denial. “That can't be from a pony. A pony wouldn't do that.”

“Sarge, I thought you'd said you'd read the reports,” Wind said behind her.

And she had, but she had thought them to be fabricated at Princess Twilight's behest to buttress her insane support of the creature. If everything she'd read had been true, though... “No. No. It can't. It can't. You're twisting things around, you monster.”

She felt a hoof on her shoulder and turned to see that Wind had pushed his wheelchair up to her; he stared into her eyes with a mix of confusion and disgust. “Sergeant York, Peter didn't do anything wrong! What happened was an accident; I already forgave him for it! Why do you hate him so much?!”

The stallion's words hit her like a brick wall. Claustrophobia and nausea threatened to overwhelm her, and her vision swam as she spun around and flew towards the entranceway, ignoring the shouts behind her as she flung the doors open and soared into the air. She knew all too well what she'd done now, and she knew what she had to do.

(-)

“I have to say that I'm very surprised by this.” Shining placed the form on his desk, looking up at the mare sitting across from him. “I think this is only the fifth time I've seen this form filed in the entire length of my service.”

“I hadn't intended for it to be escalated this high, sir,” came the response.

“Ordinarily it wouldn't have been, Air Sergeant. But when a guard with your exemplary service record files for discharge completely out of the blue, it raises eyebrows and brings questions.” He placed his forehooves together, leaning forward slightly. “Sergeant York, I believe I understand what this is about.”

The neutral mask she was trying to maintain began to crack. “You do...?”

“Yesterday the precinct received a complaint about you. Well, officially it was deemed a 'complaint', but it was more like a statement.” Shining pulled another form out of his desk. “The signatories are Sveti Windwhisper, Peter Collins and Aircolt Second Class Swift Wind.”

“Why... why do you say it was like a statement?”

“Because all three of the signatories asked that the complaint not bring about any sort of punishment for you.” He watched the mare read over the form with tired-looking eyes. “Now herein lies the problem, Sergeant York. I still hold the title of Captain of the Royal Guard, but it's now purely ceremonial; I'm no longer your commander, and while the staff still listens to what I have to say, I can only influence decisions, not make them. And this-” he tapped the complaint form with a hoof- “is not going to help things with this.” He motioned to the discharge form. “These can be denied, and it's entirely possible that your commanding officer will see what you've written on this form as cause for reassignment to a place like, say, the Badlands.” He saw her cringe; it was an unpopular assignment for a reason, and while it was rare for commanders to use it as a punishment detail, that fact didn't keep the enlisted ponies from thinking of it that way.

“...I could desert,” she murmured, not lifting her eyes from the forms.

“You could. But if something like that was truly on your mind, you'd have done so already.” He gave her a flat look. “Sergeant, I'm of two minds about you right now. I admire your service record; three citations for individual bravery, at risk of injury to self. A number of favorable reviews from superiors and subordinates alike. Not one single black mark on your record in the six years since you enlisted. But on the other hoof, what you freely admitted to in this discharge request- collusion with a civilian official, divulging Guard operational data to an unauthorized agent... Sergeant York, a strict reading of protocol would see you put in prison for this.” He gave her a moment to speak, but she made no move to do so. “And while I find the second part abhorrent, a part of me wants to do anything I can to save the first.”

Now she looked up. “...what do you mean?”

“What I'm going to do is this.” He picked up both forms from the desk, then opened a drawer and placed both of them into it. “These can stay in there for a while,” he told her, closing the drawer. “And I can ask Lieutenant Crash to temporarily remove you from your current position in the chain of command and transfer you to a special assignment that's come up. It's something I think you can perform well, and it just might give you a better look into exactly what happened with Peter and Sveti, should you allow it.”

“What is it?”

“A security detail. Recent events have convinced the Princesses that the other four ponies formerly of Big Top's sideshow- Farris Wheel, Silver Wisk, and the brothers Stout and Strong Hooves- may now be the targets of reprisal from unknown parties for what happened in Equinox Square on Hearth's Warming Eve. We need one of the Guard to be on-call and near to them in case actions are taken against them, and it wouldn't hurt to have somepony familiar with the methods of who we're up against.”

“So... this is an undercover assignment?”

“More or less. They'll know you're with the Guard, of course, but you'll be keeping a low profile and sticking to civilian dress.”

She gazed at him for a moment before sighing. “I don't have a choice, do I, sir?”

“You always do. But this choice involves whether or not I open that drawer again, whether you get that general discharge you want or end up seeing the wrong side of a prison cell. Oh, and one more thing.” He leaned forward again. “Should you choose to volunteer for this assignment, there's one extra request I'd like to make.”

“What is it, sir?”

“These four ponies you'll be watching over? Talk to them. Maybe you'll learn some things from them.” He leaned back in his chair. “I'll assume you know where Lieutenant Crash's office is. I'm sure you'll find him there.”

“...yes, sir.” The mare hopped down from the chair and trotted out.

Once the door to his office closed, Shining let out a long sigh and rubbed his temples with his forehooves. I hope this pans out, he thought. I'm taking a gamble with her, but I think this will get the job done while just maybe saving us somepony who I think could make a fine officer someday if she'd just break free of her prejudices.

And in the meantime.... His horn lit up, and his desk drawer opened; one of the forms he'd placed inside levitated out. Princess Celestia needs to see this.

(-)

“Stallions and gentlemares, I thank you for attending this special session of Parliament. I trust you've all had a pleasant holiday?”

Celestia looked around from her podium at the assembled nobleponies and politicians, some of whom looked like they were still blinking sleep from their eyes. Noting their varied responses, she gave them all a bright smile. “I'm pleased to hear it. I apologize for the early start so soon after Hearth Warming Day; a certain matter has come up that I feel requires immediate resolution.” She glanced to her left side. “Penfold?”

“Your Highness.” The stallion cleared his throat. “Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia, has filed a motion- hereby known as Motion 12-993-12- to table and nullify Motion 12-979-12, introduced by Senator Rune Speaker.”

Celestia serenely observed the assembled parliament as Penfold read off the legalities and procedures. Even these ponies, who thought themselves so inscrutable and unreadable, were all but open books to her ancient, practiced eye; she didn't need to have read the Hearth's Warming Eve roll call to know who had voted for that previous motion. Of course, she had read it- she was nothing if not thorough.

Finally, Penfold had reached the end of the traditional- and frustratingly time-wasting- procedures. “As is customary and enshrined in the laws of Equestria, the pony who wishes to table a previous motion, and the pony who introduced that motion, will each be given twenty minutes to provide arguments for their side. As the author of the more current motion, Princess Celestia is granted the choice of whether to speak first. Your Highness, do you wish to do so? Please answer 'yea' or 'neigh'.”

“Neigh. Senator Speaker may speak first.”

“Very well. Senator Rune Speaker has the floor for twenty minutes, beginning two minutes hence.” Penfold turned over a small hourglass as the well-dressed unicorn made his way to the center of the hall; the older stallion dutifully waited for the aide to turn over a larger hourglass and nod.

“My fellow ponies,” he said, his stentorian voice carrying through the room. “things are not well for our feathered and furred neighbors to the northeast. Their White Plains War has severely hurt their economy, their society and their populace. Like good neighbors should, we have done our best to support them- but while they are happy to take our food and supplies, they reject any and all offers from us to resolve the conflict! They outright laugh at our attempts to bring peace, calling us 'weak' and 'soft'! We ignored their effrontery with the patience that we ponies are rightfully known for, but now we've seen a new low from the Griffin Empire- an armed attack on Equestrian soil, which almost cost one of our citizens her life!”

Celestia watched dispassionately as the senator made his case- that the attack was likely part of a greater plot to either trick or coerce Equestria into providing greater support, or even joining the war themselves. No mention was made of Peter or the likelihood that the attack was aimed towards securing his superior technological knowledge for the Empire's benefit; it was unlikely that the senator simply didn't know or at least guess, so it was likely that he didn't want to attach the human- and his increasing popularity- to the situation.

“And finally,” the blowhard- the esteemed senator, she chided herself- said, “we come to the matter of Sveti Windwhisper. Is it coincidence that this attack took place not long after she returned to Canterlot? Why does she remain here, aside from providing upkeep for an embassy without an ambassador? Justice demands that she be investigated and tried to the fullest extent of the law, but perhaps it would be more expedient to simply close the embassy, save our taxpayers' hard-earned bits, and send Miss Windwhisper home where she belongs!”

There were a few assorted cheers and some stomps of applause amongst the senators- something of a breach of decorum, but then again Celestia had sprung this on them rather early, and not many of them were of the early-bird variety. With a self-satisfied smile, Senator Speaker ceded the floor.

“Princess Celestia, are you prepared for your rebuttal?” Penfold asked.

She nodded slightly. “I am.”

“You may begin, Your Highness.” The stallion tapped a small crystal on the side of the larger hourglass, and a simple spell drew every last grain of sand back into the upper bulb, then released them to begin flowing again.

Celestia quietly cleared her throat, then raised her head and projected her voice to be clear and understandable to every last pony in the room. “My little ponies,” she said, “Our friends to the northeast are indeed in dire straits. And I will freely admit that griffins are a proud species, and might sometimes be considered stubborn. Then again, I would say that we ponies can be the same way, in some situations; I need only mention 'the Appleoosa bison incident' to prove this point.

“But to suggest that the attack on the embassy is part of some grand plan to subvert Equestria's safety and security? And to insinuate that Sveti Windwhisper- a griffin who has undergone a string of tragedies and difficulties, no small number of them at the hooves of ponies, and yet remains a friend to us- is some sort of agent for the Empire... without proof? Senator Speaker, with all due respect, you have provided nothing that resembles evidence to back your claims. Yet you would have us deport a young hen to a nation where she has no surviving family, no home, simply due to conjecture.

“And allow me to address the attack itself. We have no evidence that it was ordered by Emperor Drottin himself, rather than a rogue agent within his government. If, as you say, we are having a hard time having our voice heard by the Emperor, then what do you believe reclosing the embassy and forcibly evicting his people from our lands would do for that? The Griffin Empire and the Principality of Equestria have been allies for close to five hundred years, even if our relations have been somewhat strained at times; I see no reason to endanger that history without solid, incontrovertible proof. Therefore I must object to Senator Speaker's measure, and indeed any action that seeks to sanction or punish any innocent griffin for the actions of his or her government.

“Speaking of proof... I have a signed statement from a pony whose identity must be protected for the time being, stating that there has been a concentrated effort to discredit both Sveti Windwhisper and Peter Collins- and that members of the very nobility of Canterlot have been part and parcel of this effort.” There were a number of shocked gasps from the assembled ponies, and not all of them were from surprise. “To say that I am appalled by this information is to put it extremely lightly. I have officially brought this document to the attention of the Internal Affairs department, and I have little doubt that they will unearth the identity of all those involved in this plot. And should it be discovered that this plot risked damaging our relations with a neighboring country... I do not wish to use words such as 'sedition' and 'treason' lightly, but I do assure everypony that the Crowns will pursue the maximum penalties allowable by law for every individual found to have taken part in this conspiracy.”

Her words appeared to have their desired effect. She hadn't come out and said it, but the implication had certainly been picked up by the politically-savvy ponies- should anypony be found to have voted for Senator Speaker measure as a part of the smear campaign, they would be held culpable. And it wasn't beyond anypony's knowledge that the most severe punishment for treason was banishment from the nation.

Once she'd given up the floor and returned to her seat, the vote on her motion was taken. Unsurprisingly, once the anonymous votes had been tallied, her motion won by an astounding majority. The politicians looked singularly relieved when she introduced her second motion- early adjournment of the session, and it seemed that Senator Speaker could barely keep himself from galloping out of the building.

Luna was waiting for her in the briefing room. “There are still times when you surprise me, sister,” the lunar alicorn chuckled once the door had been closed and magically warded.

Celestia couldn't quite hide a smile. “What do you mean?”

“Such boldness! Such quick decisiveness! A ploy that I myself would have been proud to concoct. Quite different from your usual habit of careful deliberation.”

“One of the many things I learned from you, Lulu, was the value of striking while the iron is hot.” She took a seat at the table next to her sister. “And this windfall that was dropped on our backs was too valuable to keep in reserve. We need to project the image that we are both willing and capable of moving quickly to counter this problem.”

“A fine explanation, but not the only one.” A grin crossed Luna's muzzle. “Our little ponies may not be able to see through your mask of serenity, but your sister always has been- and I could see your satisfaction at finally scoring a victory against those manipulative little fetlock-biters.”

Celestia kept her face as calm as could be for ten seconds... and then let a broad smile curl her lips. “You're damned right I felt that.”

(-)

“Blast it! This wind is going to blow away all my notes!”

Next to Twilight, Dash snickered. “C'mon, Twilight, what'd you expect in the Everfree Forest in the beginning of March? You know the saying, 'In like a manticore, out like a lamb'.”

“Ugh.” Not wanting to contaminate the area with magic if she could possibly avoid it, Twilight resorted to using rocks to pin down her various parchments on the small table. “I wish you could do something about the wind, Dash.”

“Not in the Everfree, I can't. This place is crazy.” The pegasus glanced over at the tall biped nearby. “Peter, were you serious, what you said about your world? The weather is like this everywhere?”

He nodded. “No weather control on my world, Dash. Wind goes where wants, rain falls where wants.”

“Ugh. That'd drive me nuts.” Dash shook her head. “So Twilight, why the hay did you drag all of us out here again?”

“There was no 'dragging'! I brought Peter because he's the nexus for all this, Sveti because she's his friend and protector, Zecora because she's the best guide to the Everfree in all of Equestria, and you... well, you just ended up tagging along. Don't you have anything else to do?”

“Nope.”

Twilight let out a long-suffering sigh and gave the others a glance. “...well, okay then,” she murmured, glancing back down at her map. “Peter, could you stand... right there?” she asked, pointing at a nondescript area of dirt in the clearing.

He complied. “This where I first came to Equus?” he asked.

“Precisely. Or, well, at least to within an estimation of twenty paces, which is close enough for our purposes here.” She smiled. “I'm hoping that the spell I'm about to cast will manage to slip through the barrier between our worlds and provide an anchor at the point where you left yours and entered this one.”

He nodded; she could tell he was doing his best to keep a neutral demeanor, but by now she could see the subtle excitement in his posture. “Could let you open portal back?” he asked.

“That's the goal. I'll have to see what happens first.” She consulted her notes one last time, then stepped away from the table to stand near the human. “It's going to be another powerful spell, though not quite as much as last time, so please try to remain calm.”

“I will.”

“Zecora, are we clear?”

The zebra closed her eyes for a moment, her ears flicking back and forth. “I sense no other creatures near which could do us any harm. But should that change, rest assured that I will raise alarm.”

“Great. This shouldn't take very long. Ready, Peter?” When he nodded, Twilight lowered her head to point her horn at the ground beneath his feet. Magic shot forth, tracing wild lines and curves along the dirt, until a runeshape the size of a comfortable living room surrounded the human. With the channeling focus set, Twilight turned her magic towards Peter himself, careful to regulate it just as she had with the last casting, and the spell struck him silently. Her physical eyes watched as the thin, white beam shone against his chest, but another sense entirely followed her spell as it left her world.

She stood there, as still as any statue, for several long minutes, until the runeform finally lost its charge and faded into a series of scorches in the dirt. Her head fell, her eyes closed tightly and a deep frown on her lips. “Um... Princess?” she heard Sveti ask hesitantly. “What... what happened?”

Twilight stood there for another long moment, letting what had happened process in her mind... then opened her eyes to look up at Peter, allowing herself the smile she'd been holding in. “Success,” she declared. “I have a beacon on Earth, and I can track it.”

Peter's jaw dropped, his eyes wide in surprise; Dash and Zecora both looked thrilled... but Sveti's expression seemed conflicted between joy and sorrow. “Are... are you saying we can finally get him home?” the hen asked.

“Two months. Maybe even sooner than that, depending. But I'm confident that with the beacon in place, I can find a way to open a portal to Earth.” She gave Peter the brightest smile she could. “It's entirely possible that I could have you home before the end of spring... and even set up a stable gateway between our worlds.”