She cantered eagerly through the forest, ducking and weaving around the tall trunks of the sycamores and the poplars. She could hear his voice just up ahead, and she joined in with his laughter. Around them, the morning was crisp and beautiful, with the half-frozen dew sparkling on grass and leaves in the bright sunlight. She leapt lightly over a small stream, pumping her wings once to carry her well over into the snowdrops waving on the far bank, and sped onwards.

She could hear him urging her on as she swerved down a wide lane left by an old windfall, but it abruptly narrowed and ended in a cul-de-sac of thick brambles and thorns, far too high for her to jump and the canopy was too thick for her to fly over the obstacle. Quickly, she reversed her course and darted back onto the main trail. His voice was still there, but with a note of puzzlement. Her joyful canter gradually became a flat-out gallop, desperately searching for a fork or branch which would take her back towards him as the road started to curve away and his voice became fainter. Desperation mingled with rising fear in her chest and she skidded to a halt, but all she could hear in the vast, sunlight silence was the last mournful whispers of his voice trailing off to nothing.

She called for him, her voice echoing through the trees, but there was no answer.

She was alone.

It was quite a long trek southwards before veering off to the south-east past the large rocky outcrop and up the long, gentle slope to her favourite stargazing spot. The hill gave an impressive view back towards Ponyville and the Everfree, but its biggest asset was being just high enough to be out of the haze which sometimes formed over the town. Tonight, the moon was at its lowest ebb, leaving the darkness to be broken only by the spectacular web of stars scattered like dewdrops across Luna's night. She ditched her saddlebags and started fussing with the tripod while Silver flopped onto the grass and rolled on his back, staring upwards.

“What a beautiful night,” said Silver quietly. “You want to tell me why we're here?”

Startled, she glanced over at him. “I-I don't know what you mean?”

“Oh, come on, Twilight!” he burst out angrily, rolling back up onto his hooves. “You stirred up the whole town and set them on me – stop playing games and tell me what it is you want!”

She took a reflexive step backwards. “No I didn't! Why would I do something like that?!”

“You tell me!” Silver snarled. Black trickles appeared in the half-light, slowly dribbling down his face. “You could have stopped this any time you wanted to – but you didn't. Why?”

“It-it's not that simple,” Twilight stuttered.

“Sure it is, but instead you want to watch Summer and I squirm. You keep dropping hints so they treat us like lepers, even your friends.” He took a step towards her, heavy coils of something dragging in the dust behind him. Oh, Goddess, that's... I can't look. The dark lines on his face merged and flowed together, forming a discolouring sheet that ran down over his chest and shoulders, too.

She swallowed desperately, trying not to gag. “That's completely untrue, Silver! Lives are at stake-”

“Yeah, mine! Mine and Summer's. So what is it? You want loyalty, worship? You want money – ha, boy are you going to be disappointed on that front! Tell me!”

“I can't!” Twilight cried wretchedly. “I'm really, really sorry, Silver, but right now I can't!”

Silver simply stared her down. “Your choice,” he said quietly, a fine mist of droplets spraying from his lips. With a tired sigh, he crumpled unmoving onto his side.

“S-silver?” Shaking, she took a step forward and touched his shoulder.

He was completely still.

His flesh was cold under her hoof.

Her hooves tore up small clumps of the moist soil, galloping as hard as she could go towards the Berry farm with her breath burning in her throat. Up the driveway, now, and she swerved off onto the little path that led to his workshop. She hit his door like a hurricane, the words already tumbling out.

“Silver, have you seen my sis...”

The last word trailed away to silence as the unmitigated horror of the scene sank in on her. He was standing close by the door, a tomahawk clutched in his teeth, and the sun streaming orange through the opened shutters shone brightly on the blood soaking his chest and shoulders and the little yellow corpse at his hooves.

“Apple Bloom?” she whispered in disbelief, almost a prayer that her eyes were deceiving her.

“Hey, Applejack,” he said cheerfully. He lobbed the tomahawk over to her, and it landed at her hooves with a heavy thump. “You wanna have a go, too?”

She blinked, but the scene refused to change. It was burned into her retinas, an irremovable stain that would haunt her for the rest of her life. “Apple Bloom? Apple Bloom?!” Her voice rose to a shriek, “What have you done with my sister?!”

“What do you mean-” he started to say, but her front hooves had already planted themselves as she powered her hind legs through the strongest buck she'd ever delivered in her life.

She felt the smooth, heavy shock through her hindquarters, and pinwheeled back around in time to see him crash to the floor amidst his machinery, his head striking the base of one of them with a sickening crack. The next thing she knew, she was poised over him on her hind legs, driving her forelegs down on him again and again in a howling vortex of rage and pain and sheer, visceral hate-

“Applejack?”

That familiar little voice, filled with horror and revulsion, was the only thing that could have brought her back to herself. Panting, she spun around to see a little yellow filly with a large pink bow in her mane staring saucer-eyed at her from the doorway.

“Applebloom?”

“Is he... oh, great Celestia! Applejack, why?”

It was. It was Applebloom, but her eyes contained no love for her sister, only abhorrence and abject fear. Her stomach churning, she looked down and saw her forelegs covered in his blood, indelibly stained red amidst the shattered ruin of his head. Next to Applebloom was a sculpture, almost foal-size. The blond wood was heavily splashed with blood and little flecks of grey, but wood nonetheless.

“Applejack, why? He was teaching me!” Applebloom started to cry, shaking her head wildly. “I thought he was your friend!”

“Applebloom-”

She took a step towards her sister, but the little filly backed away. “No! Stay away from me! You killed him! How could you, you killed him! What sort of monster are you?”

She jerked upright, her pulse thundering in her temples and her sister's horrified screams ringing in her ears.

Princess Celestia took the sheaf of reports from her private secretary, who bowed low and vanished through the Opal Office's side door. Leafing through the summaries of the previous day's court petitioners, she started to make notes on which to action and which to set aside and gradually lost herself in the mundane task that consumed such a part of her morning. The sharp rattle of hooves in the little courtyard outside announced Luna's arrival, and the firmness of her step and stiff set of her neck announced that the Princess of the Night was not happy.

“Is everything all right, Luna?” she asked mildly.

Luna blew out a long snort, and gradually the stern set of her face faded. “An unquiet night in many places, sister. Ponyville not least,” she explained in a quiet voice. “I was occupied full well.”

Celestia carefully set down her bundle and focussed on her sister. Unbeknown to all of Equestria's inhabitants bar a very few, Luna actively guarded the night from many things – physical and otherwise – and her title of 'Defender of the Realm' was not an idle one. “Is there anything we need to be concerned about?”

Luna shook her head. “Nay, the ramparts against the spirits of Tartarus are secure. 'Twas but an unhappy night, as happens from time to time.”

Celestia sighed and stretched. “And so they do. And not a few of our little ponies have things to be unhappy about. Have you seen this morning's papers?”

Luna shook her head, and Celestia sent the copies on the far edge of her desk floating over to her sister, one by one.

Luna scowled and flicked the copy of The Fox into the unlit fireplace with one hoof as if it was diseased. “I can't believe you send out for this, sister. A truly scurrilous, shameless rag!”

“We should always know what our ponies are saying, Luna, scurrilous or not. Plus, their recent attempts to make our nephew into some sort of sex symbol are really quite entertaining.”

“Victim's friend? What is this?”

Celestia sighed. “Twilight sent me a letter late last night. It seems that Silver Braise's friend and travelling companion has run afoul of some sort of rare, dangerous parasite. Luckily, the Zebra shaman, Zecora, recognised the insect and was able to remove it, but Summer Clip is quite ill.”

“This is no ordinary insect then, I take it?”

“Apocrita sarkophagos – the Flesh-Eating Wasp, or Corpse Wasp. I must confess, I am not familiar with it, but it sounds decidedly unpleasant. Twilight indicated that she is sending it to the University for study.”

“Not via that grey mailmare she sent our Hearth's Warming cards with, I hope, if the creature is dangerous?”

“I think she'll bring it herself. We still have work to do to find the source of our troubles, and she was never content to sit on her haunches when there is work to be done.”

“The results of our investigation, which I have explained to you now, will be turned over to the coroner to allow her to reach a verdict at the inquest. Now, seeing as there's criminal proceedings arising from your son's death, this means that the inquest will be delayed until after the court case has concluded. However, to permit you to have a funeral the Coroner will issue what's called an Order for Burial, and also an Interim Certificate of the Fact of Death which will let you take care of his affairs.”

Shining Armour sat silently in the corner as Nightjack's voice wound on and on. No matter what the Sergeant said and how he said it – and Nightjack's voice exuded caring and sincerity – he wondered how much the two ponies on the other side of the table were taking in. They were dry-eyed but clinging to each other, open-mouthed in pain and staring across the table in incomprehension at Nightjack and Cui Bono.

Finally, the torture came to an end. “Do either of you have any questions?”

After along moment, Amber and Copper slowly shook their heads, and Cui Bono gave them a sympathetic smile. To Shining Armour's mild surprise after some of the things that other ponies had said about her, the Prosecutor's manner was every bit as compassionate as Nightjack's.

“I know that this has been an awful lot to take in at once, so after you've had some time to digest this a little if there's anything you want to know you can speak to Sergeant Nightjack at any time, or ask the Colonel to find out for you,” she said. “Detective Inspector Autumn Breeze and I both need to return to Canterlot soon but if there's anything they can't answer, they will write to us and we will answer as quickly as possible. For now, I think that's everything we can tell you.”

Mechanically, Silver's parents shook hooves and muttered farewells, still lost somewhere in their own thoughts. Nightjack ushered them out of the little interview room and back into the public area, where Amber paused for a moment.

“Sergeant, is there any word about Summer? I mean, from your Constable?”

“Hold on a second.” Nightjack ducked back into the back rooms and emerged a few minutes later. “Bluebell says that she was able to speak to Summer, but while she's improving she's exhausted from fighting the fever. The doctor said that she's not really strong enough for more visitors today, and they think that she's likely to sleep for most of the day.”

“I see. Thank you. And thank your Constable for us.”

“No problem, Ma'am. As we said, if there's anything we can do for you, please just ask.”

Stumbling outside, the two ponies stopped a few paces from the door, eyes closed and chests heaving as they nuzzled together for comfort. Shining Armour hovered nearby, feeling uncomfortably like he was intruding, but after a moment Amber spoke, her voice raspy.

“Colonel? It's been a pretty overwhelming morning and I think... I think we'd like to be alone for a while.”

Shining Armour returned to the library to find his sister engulfed in a whirlwind of packing. She darted back and forth to the bulging saddlebags on the library's central table, a cloud of books and scrolls orbiting her head while Spike scurried after her with all sorts of odds and ends, looking harassed. In a clear space on the table sat a large box stencilled with the words “Fragile” and “Dangerous” at every possible angle.

“Hey Twily – going somewhere?”

“Yes – Canterlot. I need to get this... thing... to the University as soon as possible. The Department of Entomology has some specimens in their collection which might let us determine where it came from. Not only that, but I need to see Princess Celestia. We've still got a killer to catch.”

“What about Applejack?”

“Pro Bono's finished here for the time being, so she'll be taking the train back to Canterlot with me. Applejack put the farm up to meet bail, and she's staying there until the trial is called.” Twilight frowned as she gave up trying to ram a last book into her bags and started lashing it on top with string instead. “I told her that I'd scrape up the money. Her family need that farm.”

“Yeah, well, that's not going to be a problem unless she decides not to show,” he pointed out. “Do you know when her case is going to come up?”

“That depends. If it's in Canterlot, then not for a few months, but the Bono sisters were cooking something up about neutral territory – they both seem to think that there's an advantage to having the trial away from Canterlot. There's a session scheduled in Fillydelphia in a month or so, so maybe then.” Twilight grunted as she settled the weight of her bags across her withers and changed the subject. “Has there been any word about Summer?“

“Bluebell spoke to her this morning. She was well enough to make a statement, but apparently she's still fighting the fever.”

“I'll need a copy of that,” Twilight said brusquely. “Spike can send it to the Princess for you.”

His eyebrows shot up at her rudeness and he glanced at Spike, who just shrugged. “I'll see what I can do.”

“Right, then I need to get a move on or I'm going to miss the train. Spike-”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm in charge; try not to burn the place down; If I do, see Rarity; don't eat all the ice-cream; re-shelving after 3 o'clock only; don't nibble on the Element of Magic, no matter how tasty it looks-”

“Just do it and don't give me any lip, Spike!” Twilight snapped, rounding on him. The little dragon blinked in shock but didn't reply, a mutinous look stealing across his face.

Shining Armour had seen enough. “Hey Spike, could you give us a minute?”

“Sure, fine,” he huffed, and stomped sulkily upstairs.

“Shiny, I need to go,” Twilight said peremptorily, lifting the box in her magic and marching over to him.

He backed up a few steps, blocking the door, and waited for the inevitable slam of the bedroom door upstairs. With a deep breath, he looked her in the eye and started to speak in a low, firm voice. “Twily, what's going on? Did you listen to yourself just now? If you want somepony to do you a favour, some manners wouldn't go amiss. And there's no need to snap at Spike like that.”

“I don't have time for this.” Twilight's tone was harsh, but he thought he could see a sort of desperation in her eyes.

“You speak to your other friends like that? Because they won't stay your friends for long if you do.”

Twilight looked stricken, and her voice sank to a frantic near-whisper. “Shiny, I have to go. I have to go, or I'm going to be late, I can't be late, I just can't be, if I'm late-”

Not only was there naked begging in her voice, but her magic faltered and he had to snatch the box with his own levitation spell before it hit the floor. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What's going on, what is this? Look...” He stamped a hoof in frustration and stepped out of her way. “Go on, get going, but Twilight? We need to talk when you get back. Something isn't right, and I want to help.”

Twilight took her precious cargo back from him and lunged for the door, relief on her face as her words came tumbling out. “Thanks, Shiny. You're the best. Gotta go, bye!”

He watched her hurry away, saddlebags flapping awkwardly on her back and the large box clutched in her magic, and sighed. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was afraid of something.

It was late in the afternoon when Sergeant Nightjack found him idly polishing his breastplate in the back garden, having long since given up on persuading Spike out of his sulk. The sun was shining, he was fed up with talking to a door, and he was uncomfortably aware that he had allowed his normal routine to slip for a few days. He wouldn't stand for that from his subordinates, so he had hunted out some supplies and set to work, assisted by a curious jay that fluttered down from the library's branches and kept trying to see its reflection in the bright metal.

The Sergeant was flanked by a pair of hollow-eyed Earth ponies. Amber gave him a weak smile in greeting, but Copper's craggy face was as unreadable as ever. Nightjack's own greeting was calm and controlled, but had an air of formality that said that this wasn't a social visit.

“Afternoon, Colonel. I was about to take Amber and Copper up to the Berry farm, if you'd join us?”

“Uh... sure. Just give me a moment.”

He hustled inside and piled his armour on the kitchen table, together with the rag and polish that he'd borrowed from under the sink, and he took a moment to wipe the smears of polish off his hooves before trotting out through the front to meet them. Nightjack nodded and set off at his authoritative, swinging walk, Silver's parents trailing a few paces behind him.

They walked in silence through the town. A few ponies waved or said hallo as they passed, but he noticed that they all tended to stop or give way when they saw Nightjack leading the little procession. Almost without thinking about it, Shining Armour had fallen into step with the police pony, but it wasn't until they were approaching the edge of town that he felt able to ask in a low voice, “Have they cleaned up out there?”

Nightjack walked a few steps before replying. “As far as they can, yes. The Berrys dug over the ground outside a day or so ago, and I asked your Pegasi to give it a good storm dousing before they left. The inside's not great, but there wasn't much we could do about that other than throw some sawdust down. It'll have to do. Have you given any thought to what we talked about last time we came out here?”

Shining Armour caught on quickly and retrieved a letter that he'd tucked into his mane, passing over a single, folded sheet of heavy bond. He made no comment, having read its contents earlier.

Dear Sgt. Nightjack,

With regard to the matter you are investigating in Ponyville; I regret that I am now able to confirm the presence of a certain dangerous creature in the Everfree Forest during the last several months. This creature has now left the forest, its current whereabouts unknown, but the unfortunate death of Silver Braise bears the hallmarks of its work.

As I intimated to you at the beginning of your investigation, the existence of the creature is to be considered a matter of national importance. Twilight Sparkle and Col. Shining Armour have been briefed on this matter and they have passed on such information as may be safely revealed to you. I regret that I am not able to aid the investigation as I would like, but I must ask for your utmost discretion. Please destroy this letter once you have finished reading it.

Celestia

Goddess of the Sun
and
Princess co-Regnant of Equestria

Nightjack squinted down his muzzle through his glasses at it while he walked, pursing his lips thoughtfully. Eventually, he floated it out in front of himself and a little tongue of yellow flame grew at one corner until the letter was consumed.

“Well. I guess that answers that,” he said, crushing the last wisp of ash to dust with a large hoof. “It does seem a shame to burn a genuine letter from the Princess, though. I always wanted to meet her when I was little.”

“Well, now you have – although I imagine it probably wasn't what you had in mind.”

“True, that.”

As she had on his previous visit, Cerise Berry was waiting for them at the top of the driveway – presumably something Nightjack had arranged beforehoof. The bluff old mare looked very solemn, and ducked her head formally when she greeted them. “Ma'am, sir. I'm Cerise Berry, the owner hereabouts and the pony your son rented his workshop from. I can't tell you how sorry I am for your loss; your son was a fine pony and a friend to all my family, and if there's anything we can do for you we'd be honoured for a chance to help.”

“T-thank you,” Amber stuttered, swallowing rapidly. “I'm Amber, and this is my husband Copper.”

The big Earth pony said nothing but gave a short nod, and after an awkward moment Cerise turned away. “If you'd all like to follow me, please?”

A narrow lane led down between piles of broken and rusting farm machinery to the rear of Silver's workshop. A chunky hasp and staple had been recently added to the back door, judging by the glittering new metal, and Cerise wrestled for a minute to unlock the large padlock and shove the door open. She stepped aside rather than enter, and Nightjack took her place and turned to face Silver's parents.

“As I said at the Station, your son's workshop has been treated as a crime scene and it appears that he was quite badly hurt in here. While we have collected all the necessary evidence and there is no further need for us to preserve it, there is still a certain amount of disturbance in there and some signs of the scene examination that took place. Additionally, the room was thoroughly searched, so your son's belongings are likely to be disturbed or not as he left them. I'm afraid that this is going to be very difficult for you. There is no rush, no time pressure, so please take your time.”

Amber was shaking badly, but managed to reply. “Have to do it some time.” Copper just stared stonily ahead, the familiar anger burning in his eyes.

With a final, intent look, Nightjack stepped aside and let Amber and Copper enter before following behind them. With a glance at Ma Berry, Shining Armour plunged into the gloomy building after them.

Inside, the darkness was pierced by shafts of sunlight sneaking in through gaps around the shutters and cracks in the walls, making it difficult for his eyes to adjust to the ambient light. The air was stale and the scent of the wood dust which had been scattered in thick patches around the room still carried a hint of the blood which had soaked into the dirt floor beneath. There was the big pool there, and the bucket lying over there. At least they've collected all the markers, but it looks like they went mad dusting for hoof-prints.

Meanwhile, Nightjack was explaining the layout in a low voice. “This is the main part of your son's workshop. He had quite an array of machinery and tools and the like out here, and you'll see a number of projects he was working on for his customers. He had a corner partitioned off over there to make a sort of bedroom and living area. That's where most of his personal items were collected.”

Amber circled the room in a daze, touching an item here and there with a gentle hoof and sniffling quietly, but keeping well away from the jumbled pile of timbers where the shelving had collapsed. Copper swayed on his hooves in the middle of the room, his jaw clenched so tightly that the cords stood out in his neck and his eyes afire with pain and helpless rage.

“There will be a book,” Amber said abruptly into the silence. “He always kept a book – his accounts. Who owes, and who he owes.”

“I know the book you mean,” Nightjack said gently. “It's in a package I put together and left in his bedroom, together with letters and some other personal items.”

“Good. I-” Amber broke off with a great gasping sob and pressed a hoof to her mouth. A few quick strides took Copper to her shoulder, and the big pony nuzzled his wife lovingly for a moment until she gently pushed him away, fighting for breath. “I'll see to it that anypony he owes money gets their due. It's only right. Now, can we...?”

Feeling that he was intruding enough, Shining Armour stayed where he was and watched as they filed into Silver's bedroom.

“Do you have foals, Colonel?”

He blinked in surprise at the unexpected voice. He had almost forgotten that the old mare was there. “No.”

Cerise sighed. “I'm old, Colonel. Older than I look, and I don't mean because of the few small vanities I allow myself. I've raised three fillies and a colt myself, and now I'm watching them start families of their own. One day, they'll have to bury my old bones, because that's the way it is – that's nature. But I can't imagine the pain those two ponies must be going through, to have to bury one of your foals.”

He could hear the murmur of Nightjack's muffled voice from the bedroom – patient, soothing, futile. “Their only foal. I almost think they shouldn't have come here. All it can do is make them hurt.”

Cerise nodded slowly. “But it's all they have left.”

He raised a hoof to concede the point. “Then maybe we should leave them to it.”

What little space their was between the workshop and the rubbish heap was made even smaller by the large, heavy cart parked under the eves on one side and the smaller gig parked on the other, bearing neatly painted letters on its tailboard. Silver Braise. Carpentry & Woodwork.

The lack of space and light sent Cerise wandering up the hill into the rubbish heap where she could stand in the sun, out of the building's shadow which stretched back up the lane, and he soon followed her. She moved absent-mindedly and seemingly without effort but he had to place each hoof carefully and check it would bear his weight amidst the long, waving grass which grew up through the wreckage of ancient farm machinery, hiding the hummocks and lumps of debris and sharp-edged rusted metal which lay in wait for an unwary hoof.

They made small-talk for what seemed like an eternity in the lowering sun, but at last they saw the three ponies file out through the door, and they carefully made their way down to join them as Nightjack re-clasped the heavy padlock, securing the workshop once again. Both of Silver's parents had tear-streaked faces, and Amber bore a small cardboard box on her back which she kept turning her head to look at as they trekked back up to the farmhouse. Copper's stony glare had become more of a strained grimace, and the effort of his self-restraint told in the cords standing out in the old pony's neck.

At the steps to the verandah, Cerise paused. “You're all welcome to come in and stay a while, if you like. Cup of tea – or something stronger, if that's your fancy?”

Amber looked uncertainly at Nightjack, who read her expression and nodded. “Perhaps another time, thank you, Cerise.”

The dark-red mare shuffled her hooves awkwardly. “Well, before you go, there's probably a few things I oughta say. Amber, Copper, I'm so very sorry for your loss. You can probably see that the old storage shed isn't in the best condition. Matter of fact, nopony had used it in nearly 20 years and we were thinking about knocking it down, until Silver came along. He claimed it was just what he wanted, so we fixed it up a bit for him – the worst of it, anyway – and he moved in.

“I'm sure you saw the part that collapsed, and... and they tell me that your son stopped it landing on a little filly that was visiting him. Sounds like it hurt him pretty badly. That was a brave thing to do, but he shouldn't have had to do it. I rented him that building – that makes it my responsibility.”

“He was the woodworker.” Shining Armour turned his head at the harsh growl and saw Copper's chin quivering as he forced the words out past his clenched teeth. “He should have known.”

Cerise blinked, one rear hoof stamping nervously. “I just wanted to say, I'm sorry. I'd never have let it out to him if-”

Copper cut her off. “He should have known.”

Cerise looked away, chewing on her lip. “Well. Be that as it may, once everything's done down there, I've decided to knock it down. There's no point repairing it, and nopony's going to want to use it now, not after what happened there.”

Nightjack took over for her. “We have finished with the investigation, so once you have decided what to do with Silver's belongings we'll turn it back over to Cerise and her family. If you want, we can arrange shipping of Silver's tools and belongings back to Fetlock Bath, or items that you don't want can be sold here in Ponyville or in Canterlot and the money passed back to you. I understand that the Princesses will meet any expenses, is that right, Colonel?”

“Yes, that's correct,” he confirmed.

“Do whatever you want,” Copper growled shortly, his voice trembling. Amber placed a hoof on his shoulder, but he shook it off. “Knock the place down on top of it. Burn the bloody lot, I couldn't care less!”

Shining Armour blinked in surprise. “But his tools and things -”

Copper rounded on him, tears streaming down his cheeks and his voice rising to a shout, “What use are they now!? I can't use them – they're no earthly use to us! What good are they without the pony to wield them? What use are they without Silver?”

His voice broke on his son's name, and the big Earth pony wheeled abruptly and stormed away down the drive.

“Copper!” Amber called after him, her voice a mixture of admonishment and pleading, but he didn't stop and after a moment she hurried after him.

In the silence that they left behind, Nightjack sighed tiredly. “We'll sort it out and let you know, Cerise. I think they've had as much as they can bear for today.”

Shining Armour walked back to the library on his own. Nightjack had taken on the prickly task of tailing Silver's parents to ensure that they found their way back to their hotel, and he didn't envy the police pony's task in dealing with the distraught couple. Unwilling to intrude on their grief, he settled for leaving a message with the hotel porter that he would be at the library if they needed anything.

The following morning, he returned from checking that his Pegasus charioteers were well-quartered and recovering from their long flight to find Copper Braise waiting patiently in a corner of the library by the Natural History section. Spike was hovering anxiously nearby, seemingly unnerved by the silent pony with the stern, forbidding face.

Hearing Shining Armour's hooves, the Earth pony turned and greeted him tersely. “Colonel.”

He nodded politely in reply. “Good morning Mr. Braise. What can I help you with?”

“I thought I should go and check on young Summer. Thought she might like to see a familiar face, too.”

He looked over at Spike, who shrugged. “Of course. I think it's nearing morning visiting hours for her ward, if my information is correct.”

He led Copper outside and they set off in silence, heading away from the town centre. Copper was the one to break it.

“I should probably apologise for my carry-on yesterday. It was rude and uncalled-for,” he mumbled gruffly.

“Don't worry about it. You're under a lot of stress at the moment. Is, uh, is Amber all right?”

Copper was silent for a few paces. “She took away a box of Silver's papers yesterday. Letters and things, mostly from us. There's a couple addressed to us that he hadn't sent yet.” Copper swallowed. “I left her reading them. Wanted to get out. She needs a lie-in, anyway.”

“Of course.”

“She's had to deal with too much recently. Made all the decisions on this... this trip. I've not really been much help.” A brief, awkward smile touched Copper's lips. “Time I started pulling my weight.”

Oh Celestia, it's that friend of Twily's again over there! He raised a hoof half-heartedly at the white Unicorn on the far side of the street who was fluttering her eyelashes and waving coyly at him, and strode purposely on.

Turning back to Copper, he replied, “I can't pretend to know what you're going through, but you can only cope with so much, and that's when you need other ponies to help support you. Nightjack and I will do what we can, and I'm sure that everypony in town will do their best to help you.”

“Perhaps. From what my son wrote, they weren't too keen on helping him.” He snorted shortly and changed the subject. “It seems a little strange to find you staying in a library.”

“My sister runs the place together with Spike. She's away in Canterlot at the moment.”

“Your sister is Twilight Sparkle?”

Shining Armour nodded.

“He wrote about her once or twice. I don't think they got along.”

Shining Armour looked around reflexively before answering in a low voice. “If you know who my sister is, you probably know that sometimes she's caught up in things that she can't talk freely about. I'm sorry to say that this was one of them. As I understand it, she knew and understood why Silver was angry – but she didn't have any choice.”

Copper looked thoughtful as he walked on, but the rest of the trip was completed in silence.

Ponyville Urgent Care Hospital was a surprisingly-spacious two-storey building for such a small town, but once stepping through the doors it was much like every other hospital Shining Armour had ever seen. The same smells, the same white-painted walls, the same anxious-looking ponies. Follow the blue line to the second floor, then the green line to Ward 3. Take a left at appendicitis, and straight on until renal colic.

The stallion at the nurses' station directed them to a room at the end of the corridor, and Shining Armour hung back as Copper took a deep breath and pushed open the door. There was a yelp of “Copper!” from inside followed almost immediately by a pony bursting into tears, and Copper hurried over to the bedside to sweep a little grey mare up in a hug.

With a small smile, he let the door swing shut and retreated to the little waiting area by the nurses' station. They didn't need him for this.

There was only so many times you could leaf through a torn copy of Hoofball Monthly from 9 months ago, so Shining Armour was trying to plan a training Field Exercise in his head when a cough startled him out of his chain of thought. He gave Copper a small smile. “How's she doing?”

“Better, better,” the big pony rumbled. “She'll be out of here soon, but then...” He trailed off, looking troubled, and Shining Armour noticed that he was nibbling nervously on his lips and shifting his weight from one hoof to another.

He rose to his hooves and shut the door to give them some privacy. “Is there something wrong, Copper?”

“My son. He's here, isn't he? I-I was wondering... I was thinking that I ought to make some arrangements. I don't know, I...” Copper looked up almost fearfully. “Should I see him? I feel like I ought to see him, but from what they said...”

Shining Armour's guts clenched uncomfortably, and he tried to keep his voice calm and steady. “He is being held here for the time being, yes. Once you and Amber have decided what you want to do, we need to speak to the Coroner – the Mayor, in this case – who will issue you with an Order for Burial.”

Copper was hunched forward slightly, his words coming in gasps. “They said... his injuries...”

“Your son was very badly hurt, and they also had to do the autopsy. I don't know whether his body is suitable for viewing at the moment, but I can find out for you.”

“Thank you. Please, I-I'd like to see him. One last time.”

He nearly asked whether Copper was sure he wanted to do this, but decided to keep quiet and set off to find a pony who could help him. Privately, he was half-hoping the doctors would refuse. The last time he'd seen Silver Braise still woke him at night.

It took nearly half an hour for him to find the right pony, a weathered-looking tan Unicorn with a greying brown mane, and he then spent a further half-hour in a different waiting room on the ground floor at the back of the hospital. Copper was fetched from upstairs by a nurse, and they sat in silence while they waited. In contrast with the poster-decked walls and worn, cheap couches upstairs, this room was altogether more upmarket. The walls were wood-panelled, the furniture was so new it squeaked, and original paintings dotted the walls between the oppressive black velvet drapes.

Eventually the doctor returned, tucking a pair of golden pince-nez into the top pocket of his white jacket. He gave Shining Armour a speculative look, and addressed himself solely to Copper.

“Mr. Braise? I'm Doctor Dray, Senior Consultant here at P.U.C. I'm sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances. On behalf of the hospital and staff, please accept our sincere condolences for your terrible loss.”

Copper nodded tightly, his face set in its familiar stern mask once more.

“Now, I'm sorry for the delay but we need a little time for the attendants to set up our viewing room, just down the hall, here. Once we're ready for you, I'll take you through into the room where you'll be able to spend as much time with him as you wish. Have you ever viewed a body before?”

“My grandmother,” Copper said shortly.

Doctor Dray nodded. “The body is being kept under an embalming spell, but sometimes ponies look different in death than you're used to in life. Please take your time entering the room – no matter how you try to prepare yourself, it can still be a tremendous shock. If you start to feel faint, please tell me immediately.”

The doctor's voice rolled smoothly on, but he wondered just how much Copper was taking in. The Earth pony was glassy-eyed and reduced to short, jerky nods, holding his usual stoic expression by sheer force of will.

Eventually there was a tap at the door, and Doctor Dray gave Copper a sympathetic smile. “I think they're ready for us now, so if you'd like to follow me, please? Remember, don't feel that you have to hurry.”

Feeling apprehensive himself, Shining Armour quietly tagged on behind them. The corridor stretched on in front of them, but the doctor stopped at a single, unmarked oak door which stood out from the usual institutional white.

“Okay, deep breath. Take your time.”

The room was dimly lit by lily-shaped uplights spaced around walls lined with low couches. Sprays of wild flowers sat in vases on little tables immediately beneath each light, but the central feature of the room was a catafalque hung with dark-red velvet. The figure of a pony lay atop it, covered in a white sheet folded back just far enough to reveal a grey head with a dark-grey mane. The eyes were closed and his expression was thankfully peaceful. Copper's hoofsteps were lost in the thick carpet as he walked slowly over and looked down at his son, his lips clamped tightly together and his body shaking. There was a muffled thump as his hindquarters abruptly hit the floor, but he reached out a hoof and gently touched his son's cheek.

Shining Armour and the doctor, still standing by the door, silently exchanged looks and lowered themselves onto nearby couches to wait. Time stretched out as Copper said his silent goodbyes, marked only by sniffles and uneven gasps, but there was no feeling of impatience.

Finally, Shining Armour saw Copper nod slowly and stroke his son's mane one final time. His hoarse voice was quiet but nonetheless carried clearly as he spoke for the first and only time in the room, then turned away.

“I love you, son.”

The knock at the door sounded almost apologetic, but Cloud Kicker smiled and excused herself to answer it anyway. It was good to see her smile; lunch out at the café was just one more step back towards a normal life, and making her laugh and smile again was another little victory on that road. Unless it just makes her feel guilty later about forgetting for a few minutes, I suppose.

She was dragged out of her musings by the voice of the visitor at the door; female, pleasant enough, maybe around her age.

“Are you Cloud Kicker?”

The timidity of the question piqued her interest, and she took a few paces towards the door herself to see who it was before feeling guilty about being nosy. It can't be a reporter, they're not short of self-confidence.

“Yes,” the Pegasus answered warily. “Can I help you?”

Silence stretched out for a few awkward moments before the visitor blurted, “I'm sorry, I'll go. I shouldn't be here-”

Cloud Kicker took a step forwards. “Wait! Look, you've come to find me, and now you have. Is there some thing wrong?”

Junebug heard a sniffle. “I'm so sorry, I don't mean to intrude, just... I wanted to meet you. My name's Amber.”

There was another long pause before the mare spoke again – and a hitch in her voice when she did.

“I'm Silver's mum.”

It was more than an hour before Copper emerged from the waiting room where they had left him to regain his composure. Grim-faced as usual, something had gone out of him after seeing his son's body. While he was still as physically imposing as ever, he seemed to have shrunk in stature – perhaps something in the set of his neck or the angle of his ears. Any questions were answered in monosyllables, and Shining Armour pondered what to do next on the walk back to the hotel.

He wondered, too, how much Copper Braise had explained to his wife about his visit. Over the following days they made regular trips to the hospital together to visit Summer but she never showed any inclination to visit the dismal little room downstairs. Eventually, he felt compelled to ask her while Copper went to get coffee.

“I'd rather not,” Amber had said with an agonised smile. “Silver's dead, Colonel. I don't need to see him to know that, and I'd rather remember him as he was.”

Something had finally broken in his parents, and there came a steady stream of decisions, one of which was that Silver's clothes and tack was to be donated to charity and all his tools and equipment was to be cleared out and sold. Shining Armour spent several days with his guardsponies clearing Silver's old workshop, methodically cataloguing and boxing everything ahead of the arrival of an agent from Canterlot who would be in charge of its disposition.

He was watching the last box begin loaded onto a cart to the train station when Cerise appeared with Amber and Copper in tow.

“Hi there. How's Summer doing?”

“She was released this afternoon. The doctor says she should be well enough to travel with us for the funeral,” Amber said in a subdued voice. “We've been helping her pack.”

“Does she know what she wants to do afterwards, yet?”

“No – other than start again somewhere else. You're sure that it's no trouble to bring her back again?”

“Not at all. My guardsponies will need to get back to Canterlot anyway. Did you receive the box of things you asked for?”

“Yes, thank you. The porter brought them up when they arrived.”

“Well then. I suppose the place is all yours again, Mrs. Berry. Unless Nightjack has any objection, of course.”

Cerise nodded, her usual bluff cheer absent. “If he did, he would have said before now. In fact, with your permission, Amber, Copper, we were going to start knocking the place down. It shouldn't take long.”

A swarm of Berrys was summoned down from the house and they quickly set to work with the help of Shining Armour's guardsponies. They made short work of the demolition with axes and strategically-placed ropes to collapse the roof and walls and toss any remaining timbers into a rough pile. As Cerise's Pegasus daughter flew overhead scattering a tin of oil on the old wood, her son approached with a long stick, its head wrapped in rough cotton.

“Sir, we were wondering if you'd like to do the honours?”

Amber and Copper exchanged a look, and finally Copper took the stick gingerly in his mouth while the plum-coloured stallion struck a match. When the brand was burning evenly, Copper arched his neck and sent it spinning end over end into the jumble of timbers. There was a low cough as the oil-soaked timber caught, and the wood began to crackle and spit as the first grey tendrils of smoke reached up into the sky.

Nopony spoke as the flames grew, instead watching with silent reverence as the old building was consumed. One by one, the Berrys slipped away back to the farmhouse, all except for Cerise. Unwilling to disturb the silence, Shining Armour quietly dismissed the guards and went to sit beside Mrs. Berry. In front of them, sitting shoulder to shoulder on their haunches and supporting each other, Amber and Copper watched the fire burn, the intense heat drying the tears that ran from their eyes.

Shining Armour took a few deep breaths and cast his eyes around the little loading bay at the rear of the hospital. The sun beat down mercilessly on his champron and barding, but the heat was a minor distraction to which he was long-accustomed.

“Settle down, everywhere! Squad! Squad... Atten-shun!”

The two Pegasus ponies hitched to the chariot in front of him straightened their ramrod-stiff postures even more and stamped their right front hooves down in unison. Moments later, four more Pegasus guards in full armour appeared through a large double-door, marching slowly down the ramp with a simple wooden casket borne on their interlocked wings. With stately, co-ordinated movements, the coffin was lowered into the chariot and, relieved of their burden, they resumed postures of attention.

“Bearers – fall in!” Shining Armour boomed. While the four guards took up station immediately behind the chariot, he about-faced and counted off twenty seconds in his head for Trooper Windborn to prepare himself. A quiet click-click signalled that the Trooper was ready.

“Squad! By the left! Slow march!”

The sound of seven left front hooves hitting the ground in unison was lost in a heavy double-beat of Windborn's muffled drum, setting the measured and stately pace of their march through Ponyville. It also served as an announcement and warning of their approach, with ponies emerging from shops and houses in ones and twos to watch the procession. It clearly didn't register with one preoccupied-looking tan pony with a slicked-back mane wearing a collar and tie who hurried out into the road with his head down, but a sharp roar of “Make way from the Princesses' Guard!” sent him scurrying for the pavement.

They entered the town's main square and wheeled left, angling across towards the town hall where two more chariots waited, their crews standing at attention also. Amber and Copper were standing aboard one of them while a grey mare lay at their hooves, looking curiously from the rear of the chariot. The second chariot was piled high with luggage, while the relief crews were formed up beside each one.

“Squad! Squad... halt!”

The procession stood frozen precisely at attention as the echoes of his voice and the last drumbeat died away across the square.

His voice rang out once more. “Honours to the dead! Present arms!”

They had gathered a large crowd of onlookers – what seemed like most of the village – and the usual constant murmur of busy, cheerful ponies and scrape and clop of their hooves on the cobbled streets was stilled. Foals that usually ran free were pulled close by their parents' legs, their youthful exuberance curbed and eyes wide at the unfamiliar, sombre atmosphere. Finally, he gave the command to release them. “Order arms!”

Once the last echoes of hooves on the ground died away, he marched sharply up to the chariot bearing Silver's parents and best friend. “Well. I think everything is in order and the teams are ready, so all that remains is to say goodbye,” he said quietly.

Amber gave him a strained smile and held out a hoof for him to shake. “Thank you for everything, Colonel.” For a moment she looked like she would say more, but stopped. In truth, what was there to say?

He receiving a hoofshake and a grave nod from Copper but Summer, her gaskin heavily bandaged, merely wiped her eyes and gave him a half-hearted wave. He stepped back and gestured to the chariot team leader. “Have a safe trip.”

At their Sergeant's command, the charioteers set off at a rapidly-accelerating trot across the square before they hit a canter and their wings broke out, beating strongly and lifting their burden into the air. With a final circuit of the town the three chariots set out south-east for Fetlock Bath, the spare teams in tight formation to either side. The sun gleamed brightly from their polished armour, but neither they nor their passengers looked back.

With a long sigh, Shining Armour reached up and pulled off his champron, letting the wind ruffle his sweat-streaked mane. For better or worse, it was over.