With a twitching jaw, Twilight Sparkle watched Captain Ironhoof and Flash Sentry leave Princess Celestia’s royal chambers. The door slammed shut behind them, an echo following the finality.

How… Why—

“So,” Princess Luna asked, “Twilight, how are you feeling about Wednesday?”

Twilight jolted as she was addressed. “Wednesday? What about—” Oh. That. “Oh. That. Heh. Um, it should be fine. I-I’m not really worried about it.”

Though she tittered, Twilight inwardly cringed all the same. Yes, it should be fine. Just like my first day of Royal Court. Just like the trip to the Crystal Empire. Just like my research project. Fine, fine, fine!

Celestia looked down at her with a frown. “Are you sure? By all means, Twilight, if you need a few extra days—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Twilight said with a wave of her forehoof. What I need is—

“And I am more than happy to take over both of your duties during Day Court if need be.” Luna sipped her tea before she continued, “It may mean the closing of Night Court until after the trial is completed, but I am sure our subjects will understand.”

Twilight shook her head. “That’s really not—”

A wing encased her side, silencing her protests. “I think that is best, Twilight,” Celestia said, her tone low but gentle. “Given how… stressful Orion made his hearing, I expect no less of him for his trial. You will need to be prepared for that, he is liable to do that again. Especially since he will be representing himself.”

Even with the warmth of Celestia’s primaries around her, Twilight’s blood ran cold. Representing himself? And these rumors of a hunger strike? He wants us to punish him to the fullest extent of the law!

And not only that…

In the silence of her mentor’s smile, Twilight looked up, and wondered.

Stressful? Luna taking over both our duties? Perhaps I’m not the only one who…

Is afraid…

But that would mean—

The familiar feathers uncoiled from around her, leaving Twilight looking up at Celestia’s smile. “Now, I know you said you were tired, but I must confess… I am very interested to hear what you learned from your expedition. Is there anything you would like to share now?”

Twilight cleared her throat. “Well…” Should I ask her now? Or should I wait until I have more evidence? On one hoof, it would be good to see if she or Luna could confirm the most basic of facts I’ve learned so far—that Discord lived with them in the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. “You see, I... “ But on the other hoof, if the writings are true, and there is much more to the story, then perhaps I should wait…

Setting her teacup down, Luna said, “I’m curious as to how much information you were able to gather. A thousand years of knowledge sealed away could yield either an excess or complete lack of results in either direction.”

“Well, yes…” Twilight felt her ears flatten at their intrigued eyes. “That is true. I did find what I was looking for, but—”

“But what?” A grin spread across Luna’s muzzle. In any other context, Twilight would have thought it almost goofy; right now, it only seemed to mock her, spurring the war of her thoughts. “Come now, Twilight. Four weeks is more than enough to—”

“If she does not want to share yet, that is fine,” Celestia said, raising her cup to her lips.

Luna stared at her sister for a long moment before she, too, took a drink.

Twilight looked between them as their eyes avoided each other in the silence.

Something is going on here. Something more than—whatever that was. A power struggle? But Celestia and Luna are equals… as am I. Aren’t I? But then why would Flash be removed and reassigned to Blueblood without my input? Something akin to anger—but not quite as fiery—rippled through Twilight at that thought. I understand that Blueblood needed a guard, but the decision was made before we even returned. Why didn’t—

Wait. If Flash is no longer posted at Day Court, then who—

“Who will be posted at Day Court now?” Twilight asked.

The steaming silence of two teacups—both of which had been drained far too long ago—misted away when Celestia cleared her throat. “A good question, Twilight, and I apologize for not addressing this earlier. Captain Ironhoof has generously offered to fill this post himself.”

Raising an eyebrow, Twilight replied, “Himself? But what of his other duties? Shining never filled a vacant post himself when he was Captain unless it was absolutely necessary.”

Celestia opened her mouth, but Luna was the one to speak. “Is there a problem with Captain Ironhoof being stationed there? Does he make you uncomfortable?”

Twilight balked at this. “No!” A cough. “N-no. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” Although Luna’s tone sounded purely inquisitive in Twilight ears, she still felt as if she were beneath her own microscope.

“It’s… nothing, really,” Twilight finally answered, sinking in her seat. “I just want to make sure things are still running smoothly in the Guard is all. Especially since both Lieutenants will be in the Crystal Empire for some time.”

As Rainbow Dash would say, ‘Nice save.’ Ugh. Did I really just… lie?

Celestia said, “Ah, I see. An understandable concern.”

“Fear not, Twilight Sparkle. The Guard has endured worse,” Luna added as she fetched herself another cup of tea.

Celestia nodded. “Indeed. All shall be well.”

Lost in thought, Twilight heard enough to nod placatingly. Or is it not so much a lie as a half-truth? But if it’s a half-truth, isn’t that still half a lie? And isn’t half a lie still a lie? Lies are lies, regardless of the fraction. But there are white lies, and little white lies, so lies definitely have both qualitative and quantitative properties, even if they still are lies, but the prohibition against lying, both in legal and ethical terms, does not specify which quantity or quality of lie is prohibited, only that lying itself is, so yes I did just lie to Celestia and Luna—unless I’m lying to myself, in which case, is lying to oneself better or worse than lying to others? Or is it the same?

And if I am lying to myself… Does that quantitate an even greater sin, an even greater violation of legality and ethicality, if what I am lying to myself about is worse than the lie itself? Is it better to lie about a transgression, than commit the transgression itself? Or is it—

A knocking at the great doors tore Twilight so violently from her thoughts that she nearly fell back. Head swimming, she rubbed at her temple, while Celestia called for their visitor to enter as she opened the doors with her magic.

When Twilight turned around—head still buzzing—she was greeted by the sight of Radiance in his batpony transformation. “Your Highnesses, my apologies for the interruption. Princess Luna, you have a visitor up at the tower, Your Highness.”

“A visitor?” Luna rose from the floor and stretched her wings. “At this hour? Very well. Head back to the tower and resume watch, Radiance. I will be there in a moment.”

The batpony saluted, bowed, and hurried off. Luna nodded to the others. “I must retire early tonight if I am to take over Day Court on the morrow. I will take care of this visitor, then be off to bed.”

“But, Luna, that’s not really—”

“Think nothing of it, Twilight. It is the least I could do.” With a small smile, Luna turned to Celestia. “Sweet dreams, Tia. I shall see you both at breakfast.”

Celestia rose and hugged her sister. “Goodnight, Lulu. Thank you again.”

Before Twilight could object further, Luna lit her horn, then disappeared.

When there were two, Twilight stood up to meet Celestia’s gaze. “You know… Um, Luna really doesn’t have to—”

“I know, and I tried to convince her as such. But Luna is stubborn sometimes. Even more than I am.” Celestia chuckled. “I suppose she learned from the best.”

Learned from the best. “Yes, heh, I suppose.”

“Mmm.” Celestia opened her wings again, drawing Twilight in for a hug.

Returning the gesture, Twilight pushed away her indecision and the questions between them. She closed her eyes and snuggled against the down beneath her primaries.

Learned from the best.

For over thirteen years of her young life, Twilight had learned from the best, in all her ways. Nary had there been a moment when she would have questioned whether anything she had learned was really true or righteous. That had certainly carved out a path for her, straight and true, through the foundations of knowledge, magic, truth, friendship, and, yes, love. The path towards who she had become was constructed in tandem with those foundations, not against them—they surrounded her just as much as the wings that embraced her now.

To disrupt those foundations, to deviate from that path, would require more than a few pages of an ancient book… or… an aurora...

No. Not now.

“What was that, Twilight?”

Twilight looked up into Celestia’s concerned eyes. “Sorry. Must have… thought out loud,” she whispered before pulling away.

Celestia said nothing, only allowing her to escape her wings.

Twilight looked through the bay window to the stars. In the distance, she could see Luna’s tower and the three batponies who kept watch atop it. Their slitted eyes glowed red in the darkness.

“You know…” Celestia’s slippers clicked against her checkered floor. “If there’s ever anything you want to talk about, Twilight...”

She had heard this speech a hundred times—no, a thousand times—before, but each time it was said, she heard the same sincerity in the words as if it were her first.

Tonight, however, Twilight had enough surprises. So, she turned back around and said with a smile and a shake of her head, “Thank you, but everything’s fine.

“Everything will be alright.”

~

By the time she came to meet him, Discord had grown bored of teasing the three batponies. While they ignored him, their eyes shining through the night as they peered down at Canterlot and beyond, Discord rested against Luna’s telescope.

In a flash of violet, Luna appeared before him. To her credit, she didn’t seem surprised, not even flinching at his appearance.

Cloaked in the same gray fur as her soldiers, Discord flicked his purple batwings, batted his blue, slitted eyes, and modeled his purple armor for her. “What do you think, Luna? Needing anypony to help guard the night?”

“It was funny the first few times, Discord. Not the twentieth.”

“Twenty-third,” Discord said with a raise of a claw. “But who’s counting?”

Turning from him, Luna whistled to her three guards. “Fly overt perimeter, stallions! Cover from the drawbridge out!” A chorus of salutes followed. Then, the three shot off to their posts, leathery wings loud in the still night.

Once they were alone, Luna leaned her forehooves over the railing and looked out into the land beyond. Discord snickered. “Quite the loyal little flyboys, aren’t they? Letting you turn them into monsters every night?”

“They are not monsters,” Luna replied with a hiss through her teeth. “The original batpony species was decimated long ago, shortly after… Well, you know. The transformation is commemorative of that traditional race’s role. It is the least… Never mind.” She stared hard at the moon. “There is no need in explaining history to one who was present for all of it.”

“Present? Yes. Mobile? No. Stone isn’t exactly conducive to regular exercise. Why, when I first broke free of that prison, the first thing I did was hit the dimensional gym!” Discord flexed his biceps, tiny muscles visible at his strain.

Luna didn’t look at him, but smiled still.

“Ah, there we are. There’s your smile.” Discord hovered beside her with a fanged grin. “Need more of those around here lately, don’t you think?”

With a heavy sigh, Luna just nodded.

Discord hovered up to the flagpole jutting from the tower and turned himself upside-down. His buffalo and dragon legs were a poor substitute for bat dexterity, but they worked out well enough. “Ahh, there we are,” he said with a satisfied sigh once he was in position. “Now we are truly ‘hanging out’ here, Luna.”

“Another old joke, Discord.”

“Aw, not even one little laugh? Not even for old time's’ sake?”

Luna shook her head. “Not with recent events, no.”

“Recent events? You mean our old pal Orion becoming the poster child for anorexia?”

“That,” Luna said, huffing, “or what the Crystal Empire is getting up to.”

Discord wrapped his tiny batwings around himself as the wind began to pick up. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play innocent.” Luna glared at him from the corner of her eye. “The moment the headline hit the Canterlot Gazette, you tormented my sister about it while wearing that gaudy jester’s outfit.”

“Gaudy?” Discord gasped and brought a talon to his chest. “How dare you! I’ll have you know that I spent minutes working on that color coordination, and—”

Spinning on her hooves, Luna, in a near a growl, said, “Will you be serious for once?”

“But what’s the fun in that?”

Luna jabbed a hoof at him. “You came up here to talk to me, Discord. And I know it’s not to gain an audience for your jokes.”

After a sigh, Discord released the flagpole and alighted himself. With a snap of his claws, he returned to his original form. Even his armor had been magicked back into the void. “A fair point, though I will add that, since my return, you have been the one to laugh most at my jokes.”

She held her gaze with him through a long silence—interrupted only by the cold wind blowing—before she said, quiet but clear, “It was not always that way, and you know it.”

Discord laid both paw and talon on his chest and sighed. “Another fair point.”

“You know…” Luna stepped closer to him. “I did not do what I did to have you merely play the jester in Royal Court.”

A large, yellow question mark appeared above Discord’s head. “‘Do what you did’? What would that be?”

“Why were you removed from stone the second time around?”

The question mark remained. “So that my chaos magic could be used for ‘good’?” Discord made air quotations with his claws. “So that ol’ Celly would have one less thing to worry about and keep her from her cake fever-dreams at night?”

Luna jabbed him in the chest. “Stop peeking into dreams, Discord! You know that is my realm, and that only dreams of foals shall be interfered with if need be, because—”

“Free will, dire consequences, determinism, blah blah blah, I get it, I get it.” Discord harrumphed. “I was not born yesterday, you know.”

“... You were never born!”

“And neither were you,” Discord said, “but the point remains. And no, I haven’t been looking into anypony’s dreams. Though, if you know what Celly’s look like, then that means you’ve been breaking your own laws.”

Scarlet erupted like wildfire across Luna’s muzzle before she sputtered, “That’s—that’s not—I was—nevermind!”

Discord’s question mark shifted to an exclamation point.

“Anyway!” Luna furiously waved a forehoof. “The point is, Discord, you were reformed—”

The exclamation point above his head was replaced with a chalkboard sign. Scrawled in yellow chalk were the words, ”Pfft, yeah right.”

“Yes, reformed, because I was the one to push Tia to do it.”

The chalkboard fell into nothingness with a clatter. The exclamation point returned in an instant, flashing between red and yellow, before it shot off up into the air. The sound of a firecracker pierced the wind as fountains of red, white, and blue spread across the sky.

“... You?!” Discord was the one to point this time. “Why you?!”

“Why not me?”

“Because!” Discord brought his paw and talon up to his horns and tugged. “Because…”

“Because…” Trailing off, Luna looked back towards the moon. Her mouth was closed, but her lips twitched, as if the words were begging to come out.

Despite the silence, Discord knew what she wanted to say. However, he also knew that if she knew what he knew—or if she knew that he knew that she didn’t know—her words would be far different. Much more glowing alicorn eyes and flared wings and displays of primordial power, that’s for sure.

“Because…” Luna looked all around, her horn lighting for a moment before it fell dim. “You know it as much as I do.” She spun on him again. “But you don’t act as if you do.”

Discord stood in front of her, hind limbs on the cold stone. “Luna, I am fully aware—”

“Are you? Are you really, Discord?” Luna sneered. “Do you know what a thousand years does to a pony?”

“No,” he said after a beat, “but I know what it does to a draconequus.”

Silence.

Luna turned back around, her mane shimmering in her moonlight. “If you truly know, then you would not do as you do.”

“Don’t be so vague.”

“Vague is all I can be,” Luna replied, almost in a whisper. “It may be a thousand years later, but…”

Silence again.

Discord placed his paw and talon on the railing and stood right beside her. He looked to the north, and then to the moon. Smirking, he snapped his claws.

Below the moon, but above the horizon, a crystal star hung in the stellar atmosphere.

“My thoughts exactly,” Luna said after a further silence.

Discord waved his paw, and the star disappeared.

“So… What do you propose I do, then?”

Luna shifted. “Discord, asking a serious question? Surely, you can’t be serious.”

“Don’t call me Shirley,” Discord replied with a wagging claw, “and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t mean it.”

Luna nodded sagely. “I see…”

Discord crossed his forelimbs over his chest, thinking of time. A thousand years was not a significant time to an immortal being—or was it?

Was it enough?

Finally, Luna sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know, Discord. After everything… I don’t know.

“But what I do know is that you’re the wrong pony to be talking to. And that’s the last thing I have to say on the matter.”

With that, Princess Luna spread her majestic wings and shot off into the night. In the distance, Discord watched as three small shadows were joined by a fourth, much larger, and began to steer back towards the castle.

“I suppose that’s my cue, then. Ta-ta, Luna.” Discord opened an umbrella, donned a top hat, and floated up towards the heavens.

As he sailed up above Celestia’s room, he added under his breath, “Ta-ta.”

~

”Everypony, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two souls. It is an unlikely union—one that nopony could foresee. But even more than it is unpredictable, it is loving. And love is something to celebrate, no matter where it is found, especially when it is love in the highest—”

The doors to the temple slammed open. Mister Waddle looked up from the ancient book in his forehooves. The audience gasped.

There, in the threshold, stood Twilight Sparkle, her eyes glowing white. Her wings were flared to their fullest, displaying her might and power for all to see. The audience cowered before her mere appearance. Mares trembled and shook, while stallions widened their eyes and sat in frozen shock.

“Objection!” Twilight shouted, pointing at Mister Waddle and the couple before him. She strode boldly towards the altar, each hoofstep righteous and resounding in the silent temple.

“Why, Your Highness?” Mister Waddle pleaded, his jowls trembling as he spoke. “These two… they love each other, very, very much…”

“It doesn’t matter!” Twilight stomped a forehoof. The stone floor cracked and the temple shook, the Earth itself trembling before the mighty alicorn. Her eyes shone pure holy white light—as did her smile, rows and rows of perfect teeth curved in a confident grin. “It doesn’t matter, because they aren’t supposed to be together!”

At the altar, the bride began to weep. She buried her muzzle in her groom’s chest, light green coat and dark green mane a deep contrast to the silver and black of his. Her cries shook the temple with every sob, Galaxia herself mourning with a broken hearted mare.

Her groom, so emaciated that his bones rattled against each other with every shake, held her as tight as his weak grip could allow. “Your Highness, please! I-I love her, and sh-she loves me. Please, don’t do this—”

“You leave me no choice!” Twilight declared, her horn pointed towards his throat.

All around her, ponies were crying and trembling and bowing profusely to her. Chests and faces met the floor in an endless series of worshippers prostrating themselves before their better. They begged and pleaded to her in a litany of prayers and whispers, all hoping that they themselves would be blessed.

Hearing them, Twilight announced, “All but the three before me are above reproach! You are of pure intent and noble hearts, you who carry your father’s names, who give your mother's’ proper grandfoals, who walk in the hoofsteps of those long before! You, and only you, are blameless!

“But these...”

Twilight stood tall as her horn ignited, engulfing Mister Waddle, Orion, and Clover in a flash of brilliant golden magic.

Her vibrant eyes watched as the three shifted before her and the temple of worshippers. Now standing before her were Princess Cadence, Shining Armor, and the same priest.

Mister Waddle, mind wiped blank, began turning the pages of his ancient book while Twilight watched. The rest of the audience had continued their sobs and supplication, bowing endlessly to the holiest of holy among them.

Mister Waddle cleared his throat. “We are gathered here today to witness the union of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Captain Shining Armor of the Royal Guard—”

Shining Armor weakly coughed and raised a forehoof. “Mister Waddle, actually, I only made First Lieutenant—”

Cadence blushed and shook her head at him. “Shiny, that doesn’t matter—”

“DOESN’T MATTER?!”

The three snapped their heads to Twilight, who had grown even taller. She towered above Cadence now, her smile twisting into a fanged display of pure rage.

“Do you know why the stallion must be a Captain, Cadence?!”

Cadence fell to the floor, covering her head with her forehooves. Shining fell, too, bowing over and over again to his sister in a plea for mercy. “I-I-I-I d-d-didn’t th-th-th—”

“Because the last time he wasn’t, all Tartarus broke loose! Do you want that? DO YOU WANT PONIES TO SUFFER, CADENCE?”

“No! No! NO! Pl-pl-pl-pl-please, Auntie, I-I-I-I—”

Auntie?

Twilight looked over herself. Her coat was now a brilliant white. Her mane now flowed of its own accord, shades of pink, mint, and light blue replacing her familiar blue, purple, and pink. She was bigger and taller still, making Cadence and Shining look like foals beneath her powerful hooves. The voice that boomed in her ears was not her own.

“I DO THIS ONLY FOR YOUR OWN GOOD! I DO THIS FOR THE GOOD OF EVERYPONY!”

Cadence sobbed and sobbed, rivers of her tears mixing with Shining’s and creating a flood on the floor. “Pl-pl-pl-please don’t—”

”DO I LOOK LIKE A TYRANT, CADENCE? LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND SAY YOU SEE A TYRANT!”

Twilight’s golden magic lifted Cadence up to face her eternally glowing white eyes. The alicorn who had helped raise her—who loved her so much, whom she had loved so much—was too terrified to do anything but stare and shiver. Her brother, whom she loved even more so, was on the floor with the priest and the sea of weeping leaves—no longer ponies, they only shivered and shook in the wind of her words—all low and lesser.

”WHAT DO YOU SEE, CADENCE? WHAT DO YOU SEE?!”

“I-I-I…”

”ANSWER ME!”

”I SEE A LIAR!”

Twilight flinched from Cadence’s outburst. Now the smaller alicorn was free of her magical grip and hovering right before her. “LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!” she continued, wings flared, eyes glowing white.

Cadence grew in size as she continued to scream in Twilight’s face. “YOU LIE! YOU’RE A LIAR! LYING LIAR! LIES! LIES! LIES!”

The Earth quaked beneath Twilight’s hooves. The stone temple of Galaxia split in half, solid stone parting down the middle. The roof above them began to collapse. Mister Waddle, Shining, and the leaves screamed, but neither Twilight nor Cadence moved to save them from the falling stones. They continued their locked gaze, white-hot into white-hot, as Cadence screamed into Twilight’s face over and over again.

Fire erupted on the altar. The flames jumped onto Mister Waddle’s robe first, angry tongues licking at the old stallion’s hide. His cries were drowned out by Cadence’s accusations as she grew and grew, becoming as tall and strong and loud as Twilight in Celestia’s skin.

“YOU’RE A LIAR, TWILIGHT! YOU’RE A LIAR!”

Twilight flicked her mane, letting her leaves rise from the floor. Her mane flickered between pink, green, and blue and blue, purple, and pink. ”I AM NOT! I AM NOT!”

The leaves rose, only to be consumed by the flames. Mister Waddle howled as the blaze burned him from inside out. Shining rushed up to Cadence, but she pushed him away to be overcome by smoke and fire.

“YES YOU ARE! YES YOU ARE!”

“I AM NOT! I AM NOT!”

“YES YOU ARE!” Cadence pressed her snout against Twilight’s. Two sets of immortal eyes burned white-hot suns at each other. “YOU KNOW WHY, TWILIGHT?”

Oblivious to the chaos and destruction around her, Twilight bellowed back, “WHY, CADENCE? WHY?!”

“BECAUSE YOU LOVE—”

~

Twilight gasped as she set up in bed.

I… I… I!

Her forehooves fumbled for the lamp on her nightstand. When they made purchase, she flicked it on to see her sheets, blankets, and pillow damp.

Twilight brought one forehoof to her mane and the other to her coat. Both were drenched in sweat.

As she continued to catch her breath, she looked all around her chambers. One of her windows was open as she had left it, letting moonlight and a cold breeze within. Her door appeared locked and bolted still. The guard posted at her door was quiet—no frantic knocking or calling her name.

A dream… No, a nightmare.

Twilight rubbed her sweaty hooves over her sweaty eyelids and groaned. She glanced at the clock. Witching Hour. Of course. No wonder I had such an intense nightmare.

Sighing, Twilight peeled herself from her soaked sheets and stumbled to her bathroom. She used her magic to open the door and turn on the shower, unwilling to spread her grime there as well.

Within moments, she was standing under the faucet, letting the warm water cleanse her of the dream. She closed her eyes and leaned against the shower wall as her aura grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed at her coat. I… I was myself, then Celestia. And I told Cadence… something about why the stallion she married must be a Captain.

It was… something about the last time they hadn’t been, it was…

Twilight paused, bracing her forehooves against the shower walls as she stopped her lather. Horrible. I don’t remember the right words, but it was something horrible. That’s why that rule exists. Not because a strong Princess needs a strong Prince…

Unless… Unless the Prince exists to protect the Princess from herself.

But that would mean…

The soap fell to the tub. Torrents of sudsy water ran down her mane, her ears, her cheeks, her neck and chest, as the mystery began to unfold before her.

That would mean that something happened long ago to lead to this change. Something before Cadence and Shining.

And there’s only one place where I could learn that.

Twilight thought of her saddlebags in the adjacent room, of quills and ink and translation books and fresh parchment.

It was three o’clock in the morning, but Twilight had no intention of going back to sleep.

~

Flash Sentry awoke to the call of the trumpets, an empty room, and an apologetic note from Greyhoof. Once he rolled out of bed, he swiped the parchment on his nightstand and read it:

”Flash—

I will be assisting in the castle kitchens this morning through the late afternoon. One of the chefs is sick and extra hooves are needed. I’m sorry I won’t be able to see you off this morning. Hope you have a good day.

Greyhoof

P.S. I have a surprise for you later tonight.

P.P.S. Thank you again for everything—”

The edge of the parchment was smudged. Try as he might, Flash couldn’t read the last word. With a shrug, he nodded to his unseen friend and set to work on preparing himself for the long day that awaited him.

He didn’t need to be here this morning anyway. Not after waiting all night for me like he did. Guilt marred his reflection in the mirror, but only for a second. Flash snapped the chin strap on his helmet tight and smiled at himself. But still, it was great to see him again. A surprise tonight, huh? Hm. Anything will be nice after… Blueblood…

His stomach growled in the same moment that he shuddered, making him laugh. Flash shook his head at the mirror and finished his morning routine. He did not dally, but he did not work with the same urgency or pride as he had in the Crystal Empire.

After all, even when the most poised stallions stood guard for Blueblood, there was always something wrong with their uniform or appearance. Or so the stories went.

Once he deemed himself as ready as could be, Flash stretched his wings, took a deep breath, and opened his door.

Outside, two familiar pegasi were waiting for him.

“Hey there, Steel Wind, Sharp—”

“Surprise!” Steel Wind exclaimed, throwing his forehooves up.

Sharp Spear scowled. “He already acknowledged us, Steel! Surprise already ruined!”

“Awww.” Steel frowned. “I knew we should have gone with the whistle.”

“And wake up half the castle?” Spear rolled his eyes. “You be the one to explain why Princess Luna couldn’t get her rest, not—”

“Uh, guys?” Flash stepped between them. “I, uh, appreciate the effort, but…”

“Oh, right!” Spear smacked his forehead. “Anyway, welcome back, Flash!”

Both stallions swung a forehoof around Flash’s neck. “Good to see ya again, Flash!” Steel said, grinning broadly, his argument of a few seconds prior forgotten. “How was the Crystal Empire? Did it snow the whole time? Did you see any hot mares? Maybe…” He waggled his eyebrows. “A Crystal pegasus?”

Flash laughed. “Er, well—”

Spear removed his forehoof from Flash to point it at Steel. “There are no Crystal pegasi, Steel! Don’t you remember when the Captain gave that presentation on the Empire? They’re just Earth ponies!”

“They are not ’Earth ponies,’” Steel replied, waving his forehooves, “they are Crystal ponies. There’s a difference!”

“Not really! No wings, no magic!”

“But they can’t connect with the Earth or all that—”

Sighing, Flash again stepped between them, pushing the pair away from each other. Guess I’m back in my role of keeping these two out of trouble. Again. “Steel is… technically right. But so are you, Spear. There are no Crystal pegasi, and they resemble Earth ponies, but they are not Earth ponies.”

Steel crossed his forehooves over his chest and smirked. “Ha! I was right!”

Spear facehoofed. “We both were right and weren’t, you—”

“I’m starving. Let’s go get some grub.” Flash set off out of the hallway.

Mumbling apologies, the two followed alongside him, though Steel still smirked and stuck his tongue out at his counterpart in triumph.

“So…” Flash led them through the corridors, hooves quick and keen on breakfast. “How have things been since I’ve been gone?”

“Good, good.” Spear nodded. “Nothing much to say, really. Other than…” He coughed. “Well, I’m sure you know, having been in the Crystal Empire when it happened.”

I know it far too well… but let’s not get into that. “What do you mean?” Flash asked.

“There was a play in the Empire,” Steel replied, “and the press… Well, they’re not so happy about it.”

“And the Princesses?” Flash asked further. And the Captain? he wanted to add, but he knew that answer already—not to mention any discussion of Ironhoof was discussion best left avoided.

Both stallions glanced at each other and shrugged. “Not sure, really. Neither Princess Celestia or Princess Luna have publicly commented on it, as far as I know,” Spear answered.

“Not that it’s our place to know,” Steel added, a rapid chuckle following his words.

Right. Of course. Flash held back a sigh and just nodded.

The trio continued their journey down to the Great Hall. Steel Wind and Sharp Spear ribbed him no more after their initial “Crystal pegasus” debate, but asked many questions about the Empire’s climate, layout, and economy. Flash answered what he could when he felt it was necessary. He felt he failed at hiding his guarded tone, however, for when they sat down, the two seemed even more curious.

“So, they have a huge mining operation for all the crystals? And anypony is free to just come and mine it?” Steel asked.

As Flash peppered his bowl of oats with cinnamon—no sugar this time—he replied, “Yes, that’s correct. There are many varieties of crystals with different properties, so large operation and many workers are needed.”

Except with the Eternal Wall. But that’s another story… one I hope Twilight shares with me. Somehow.

Flash felt his wings and ears droop at that thought. He buried it in a bite of oats, less sweet than usual. I’m sure I’ll still see her. If anything, I’ll see her on Wednesday at the trial because Prince Blueblood has to be present. Not the best of circumstances, but it’s better than nothing. But if we are friends… Really friends… I know that… she’ll try.

I would love to try more, but after last night, with Ironhoof…

“... Huh.”

Flash looked up from his meal. “Hm?”

Spear rested his chin on his forehoof. “You sound a lot more… academic than usual, Flash.”

“Academic?”

“Y’know… learned. Like you’ve stuck your nose in a book the past four weeks or something.”

Steel snickered. “I’m surprised you know what academic means, Spear. I would have thought—”

Spear shoved a slice of buttered toast in Steel’s mouth, silencing him with a grunt, followed by the noises of happy, hungry crunching.

“Oh, well,” Flash said with a shrug, “I did get to see the Empire’s library. Really interesting place.” Putting it lightly. “What I said about the mines is what the tour guide said.” Nothing more. Nothing less.

“Ah.” Spear buttered a slice of his own toast, then shrugged in turn. “Well, anyway, now that you’re back, Steel and I were wondering—Steel, close your mouth. That’s disgusting.”

“Mmmrfry,” Steel muttered around his toast.

“Anyway,” Spear resumed, huffing, “we were thinking… Since you just came back from a vacation, and now that you have your, um—” he coughed—”new assignment—”

Flash’s spoon fell into his oats. “Wait—everypony knows about that?”

Spear blinked. “It was announced last week, after Blueblood sent his last stallion packing. What, did you just find out last night?”

Of course. Of course he told everypony. I can just hear him gloating now. Flash restrained his snarl. “Um… yeah.”

His mouth finally clear, Steel scoffed and shook his head. “Wow, that’s brutal. Sorry to hear, Flash.”

Flash said nothing, glancing only at a clock on a nearby wall. Thirty minutes before Tartarus. Might as well enjoy these oats while I can. He shoved his mouth full and stared into his bowl while the two fidgeted in obvious discomfort.

“Well, uh…” Clearing his throat, Spear rubbed the back of his neck with a forehoof. “Anyway… We were thinking, see—”

“And it didn’t hurt as much as it usually does!” Steel chimed in, grinning.

Har, har. Flash didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, hehe, anyway… Why don’t the three of us go out to Thermals again? You know, have a few drinks, dance a little, maybe meet somepony?”

“Yeah! We could run into the Wonderbolts again, even,” Steel added, his grin now threatening to split his muzzle. “Or some new friends! Just something fun like that. No pressure. What do you think, Flash?”

Slowly, Flash set his spoon down, wiped his muzzle clean, and looked up at them. “Thermals?” Again? Well, I did have fun the last time I went with them, and I did say that I would try and spend more time with them, be less hard on them… Hay, half of their act seems just to be a way to make me laugh. And we used to be closer. We just stopped when… everything happened, but things are different now. Well, as close to different as can be for now, I suppose, and I owe it to them to at least—

Spear waved a forehoof in front of his eyes. “Whoa, Equestria to Flash? You there, bud? We aren’t flying just yet, heh!”

Shaking his head, Flash snapped out of his reverie. “Heh, yeah. Sorry, guys.” He gave them a sheepish smile. “Anyway… Yeah, sure, that would be fun.”

Steel raised a forehoof. “Now, I knew you would bring that up, but I promise that both of us will be our best behavior and—what.”

“He said…” Spear rubbed at one of his ears. “He said yes, I’m pretty sure. Didn’t you?”

Flash smiled again. This time, it felt more genuine. “I did, Spear. I did. But yes. Let’s do that—go and have some fun. Not tonight, but how about tomorrow night? Just like old times.” He sipped his water and grinned. “Like during basic. Remember when we went to Las Pegasus that one weekend?”

Steel struck the table with a forehoof hard enough to send their glasses skyward. “Tartarus yeah! When we went to that club in the clouds—Spear, remember that? When you lost your pocket watch and we had to look for it in the San Palomino desert?”

Though Spear crossed his forehooves, grumbled, and muttered, “Yeah, I remember,” the smile on his muzzle was unmistakeable.

Flash found himself smiling, too, as the next few minutes between himself and Blueblood were spent on old memories—and laughter. Much laughter.

~

Candles burnt to their wicks dripped wax onto the mahogany. Empty cups of coffee, a half-spilt bowl of sugar, and two broken quills littered the war zone between one dusty tome, one translation book, a stack of parchment, a stub of a quill, a depleting inkpot, and Twilight Sparkle.

Those of gem lived in the land of ice and snow. Here, none of wing had jurisdiction, but still the land observed the seasons. Four long months of winter, four short months of sun, and four in between of wind and clouds. Still, those of gem were excited to meet the three, the day, and the night.

The mage came first to those of gem, intent on learning their ways. Those of gem had lived not as long as the three, but their world was still an old world, and their ways even more so.

Rather than those of hoof, who spurred the land to provide its bounty, those of gem tamed their fields and kitchens with crystals that glowed warmth even in the cold, crystals that chilled warm foods, and crystals ripe and tasty for the eating. The mage tried them all, and found them good.

Rather than those of wing, who mastered the skies and their gifts, those of gem lived in harmony with the cycles of their seasons. Those of gem used crystals to build homes that withstood the wind, the ice, the snow, and the sun. The mage examined their dwellings, and found them sturdy.

Rather than those of horn, who manipulated objects to their will, those of gem learned to use their hooves and bodies. Those of gem were not as strong, fast, or sturdy as those of hoof, but could hold their own in combat.

Those of gem had no king, no queen, no prince, no princess—only a council. Those of the council greeted, housed, and showered the mage with knowledge and wisdom, showing the mage the deep secrets of their land.

Deep beneath the Earth, in the caves where those of gem found their crystals, was a Wall. Those of gem revealed to the mage that the Wall had predated their own existence, and, in it, was every single crystal they knew—and more.

The mage gazed upon the Wall—

Knock, knock. “Twilight?” Knock, knock, knock. “Twilight, are you in there?”

Horseapples! Grabbing the closest book she saw, Twilight slammed it over Starswirl’s book and the translation guide, then stacked them face-down on her desk. “C-coming! Just a moment!”

She stumbled as she rose from her chair, her hooves half-asleep and aching with each step. As she made her way to the door, swaying, drunk on knowledge, Celestia knocked one more time.

“Coming! Sorry, sorry,” Twilight called out before yanking the doors open.

Celestia smiled at her initial reveal, then frowned. “Twilight, are you okay? You look…” She stepped inside, sweeping her eyes around the room. “Er…”

“Yup, I’m fine! Just fine!” Twilight closed the door hard enough to slam it, making both of them flinch. She chuckled and waved a forehoof. “Sorry about that! Heh. But yes, I’m doing well this morning. How about you? Sleep well?”

Celestia made her way over to the cushions beside Twilight’s fireplace where charred logs and ash lay dormant and sat down. “Yes, I did, thank you. And you… Um…” She brought a forehoof to her lips. “Did you… sleep last night?”

Twilight quickly joined her, her cushion sliding under her as she sat down. “Oh, of course!” she lied. “Well, not a full night. I woke up a few hours ago,” she lied further—a little white lie. “And I was already awake, so I figured I would study, um—”

Twilight used her magic to pluck the decoy book from her desk and hover it over. “Uh… The Art Of Woodworking! Because you can never have too much wood, right?”

Celestia stared at Twilight, pink spreading on her cheeks. “Um…”

“Oh! Uh!” The book fell to the ground with a thump as Twilight blushed furiously. “Uhhh, n-not like that! Like! Craftsponyship! Y’know! Arts and crafts! Carving little—statues and stuff! Yeah! Hehehehehehe…”

“R-right…” Avoiding her eyes, Celestia lit up her horn. A teapot and two teacups appeared in her aura, which she set down. She poured their cups, then magicked a sugar bowl between them. “Would you like some sugar in your tea?”

“Oh, sure, just a little,” Twilight said, eagerly accepting the bowl in her aura. One, two, three, eight teaspoons later, her tea was ready. She took a long, deep sip, letting the caffeine and sugar calm her frayed nerves.

Please don’t look at the desk… Not now, she thought as she stared up at her mentor, painting a smile behind her cup, not yet. I will ask you everything… and tell you everything… but not yet. Not yet, not yet, not yet.

Because none of my history books EVER said anything about Starswirl visiting the Crystal Empire. Or the Eternal Wall. Or the Empire having a council. And there has to be a good reason for it. A non-nightmarish reason.

After setting her teacup down, Celestia smiled at Twilight. She could feel it was forced. “So… We missed you at breakfast this morning.”

Twilight’s right eyelid twitched. “You—you did?”

“Yes. I didn’t send anypony up to check on you, because I figured you were tired from your long train ride home and slept in.”

“Oh, I see. Well—”

“But when you missed lunch as well, I decided it would be best to make sure you were alright.”

Twilight dismissed her with a forehoof. “Well, I appreciate that bu—Imissedlunchtoo?!”

Flinching, Celestia replied, “Well, yes… It is almost one o’clock, Twilight.”

One o’clock?! Twilight fought the urge to look back at the books on her desk. B-b-but I’m still not finished! Not even halfway! How much more secrets and lies will be in this damn book?!

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Twilight? Would you like to rest? Or maybe I should postpone the tr—”

“No! Nononono!” Twilight waved both her forehooves, her frizzled mane frizzing even more with each protest. “No! I-it’s fine, Celestia! Really! I-I don’t need—”

“Twilight,” Celestia said, her voice growing quiet and stern, “I know something is bothering you. Please tell me what it is.”

Twilight’s forehooves fell as she slumped on her haunches. “But—”

Celestia scooted closer to her. “I promise I won’t be angry, no matter what it is. Now, please, tell me. I’ve asked and asked, and you still won’t say a thing, so—”

An image of glowing white eyes, flared wings, and a booming, echoing immortal voice filled Twilight’s mind. Celestia’s mane—no, her mane—flowed in the ether as her subjects were reduced to leaves, shivering and trembling, until the fire overcame them and burnt them to ash, supplicant, praying, begging ash—

“—So, please, I beg you… tell me. I… I’m worried about you, Twilight. Did something happen in the Crystal Empire?”

Her words yanked her back to reality, but it was far from a pleasant change. Twilight found Celestia nearly muzzle-to-muzzle with her, eyes shining with concern, as they had so many times before.

Only, now, Twilight wasn’t so sure if that’s all they shone with.

“I…” Twilight took a breath, buying herself time. I can’t tell you. Not yet. But I can’t tell you that either. But I have to tell you something. And if I tell you one of the things on my mind, that’s not lying, right? A partial truth is better than none at all, right?

Then again, if truth and lies are not quantitative or qualitative, then there is no way to alter this equation, unless—

“You…?” Celestia prompted.

“I…” Twilight coughed, and then, with a racing heart and nerves afire, answered at last. “I have been wondering about… Orion’s punishment.”

Celestia tilted her head slightly. “Oh? That’s what has you so frazzled?”

“Yes!” Twilight said, a little too quickly. “Yes,” Twilight said again, more satisfied with this reaction. “I’ve been thinking… I understand the charges against him, which are justified, along with the punishment each charge merits, which is also justified, but… I was wondering about something else.”

Nodding, Celestia poured Twilight a fresh cup of tea. “Of course, Twilight. Let’s discuss it. What are you wondering about?”

Once she had stolen a few more seconds with her tea—leaving this one unsweetened, as her heart clearly had no need for the extra stimulus—Twilight said, “Alternative punishments. I was wondering if there was an alternative punishment I may propose for Orion.”

“Well, I suppose that depends on what you plan on proposing,” Celestia said. “Community service is too light in this case I think, and a fine would not be appropriate, either. Regardless of the circumstances… Orion is a noble, and even a fifty-thousand bit fine—one of the highest we levy in criminal cases—would be a mere drop in the bucket for him.”

Twilight nodded. “I understand. I was thinking of something else.”

“Like what?”

“What about… hard labor?”

Celestia blinked.

Twilight raised a forehoof. “Not like slavery! Nothing like that. Nothing like what Sombra did.” She remembered how the Crystal ponies referred to him as it, and held back a shiver. “Orion would be required to work a set number of hours, but he would be otherwise free to do what he pleased. A-and I’m willing to set aside some funds from my own account to make sure he had a home and—”

“I see.” Celestia sipped her tea. “My apologies, Twilight. My mind went somewhere far different than what you proposed originally.” She tapped her chin. “Well, I don’t see why not. I question why, but I’m sure you have a good reason.”

Where’s the resistance? Twilight thought, almost balking at Celestia’s candid response. I was thinking that this discussion would be far more difficult than it is… Does that mean the other one won’t be either?

No, that’s different, another part of her reasoned. You are still acting within the laws, just… mixing things up a bit. The other discussion will be another creature entirely.

Good point.

“Twilight? Are you having a debate with yourself again?” Celestia failed to hide a giggle beneath her forehoof.

“Eh, heheheh… maybe.” Twilight let the tea warm her throat along with her muzzle. “But anyway, to answer your question… It was something I was just thinking about. I mean…” She straightened in her seat. “Orion is trying to make an example of himself, right? So what if we make an example of him in return? I mean, there’s a difference between a cell and earning your keep.”

And if Orion wants to be with an Earth pony so badly, maybe he should work as hard as one in exchange. See how he likes that.

Wait… Twilight felt her stomach lurch. Was that thought my own?

“... I see,” Celestia said again after a long sip of tea. “I suppose I can follow your reasoning. It is highly unorthodox, but if Orion is serving his time, contributing positively to the community, and we ensure there is no abuse… I can’t say I object to it. Where do you propose this hard labor be performed?”

“The Crystal Empire,” Twilight answered, ignoring the nausea settling into her racist stomach. I can’t believe I thought something like that! My parents raised me better—Celestia raised me better! I know I’m angry at him, but still—

No wonder the Crystal ponies looked at me like that. I am a monster… aren’t I?

Though she was still the same size and nothing was on fire, Twilight felt ever the monster in her nightmares, and flicked some of her disheveled mane in front of her eyes to hide the quivering within. Liar… monster…

Traitor…

“The Crystal Empire?” Celestia asked, oblivious to Twilight’s horrifying revelations. “Well, I suppose the Crystal Mines could always use a few extra hooves. And if Shining and Cadence are appointed to ensure that his punishment is carried out properly, there won’t be a thing to worry about.”

“Right,” Twilight heard herself say.

“If this is what you feel is best, Twilight, I will side with you. Orion did attack you, so your vote on this matter will take precedence over any ties or dispute. I will discuss it with Luna tonight, and Blueblood when I have the chance as well.”

Blueblood. Flash. Flash doesn’t think I’m a monster, does he? Of course not! Otherwise, why would he…

No. Not now. Focus. She’s looking at you. You haven’t eaten in over twelve hours. You smell like a mule—ahhh! I-I mean, you smell awful! N-not that mules—oh, forget it!

Hiding the angry trembling of her forehooves, Twilight nodded and spoke through her clenched jaw as best as she could. “Thank you, Celestia. I’m glad to see that my… anxieties have been lain to rest.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Smiling, Celestia raised her teacup and winked.

Twilight’s eye was twitching too much for her to wink back.

~

Laughter echoed in Flash Sentry’s ears as he made the trek, alone, to Prince Blueblood’s room. He followed a similar maze of hallways and stairs as he did to reach Princess Celestia’s, but took a separate corridor to the Prince’s room.

Unlike the four others often were, this corridor was unoccupied. Not a single servant or other Royal Guard passed him on his journey. The stones beneath his horseshoes felt more firm and solid, as if fewer hooves had trod this path.

Soon, a large set of doors loomed into view before him. The doors were covered in sapphires, diamonds, and amethysts. The gemstones were arranged into the shape of a great white unicorn surrounded by hues of blue and purple.

Seeing no posted sentry, Flash knocked on the door three times, calling out, “Your Highness, this is Sir Flash Sentry, reporting for—”

The doors slowly swung open. Curiously, it was not magic that had opened them, but the Prince himself.

Still wearing the blue bathrobe from last night—along with his slippers—Blueblood sneered at his visitor. “It’s 0801. Not 0800. Or do you know how to read a clock?”

Flash bit his lip. A great first impression. “My apologies, Your Highness. I did not realize—”

“Of course you didn’t. Now get inside!”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Flash answered on reflex, before the snarl capturing his lips could manage to set itself loose. He trotted inside before Blueblood closed the great doors with his forehooves.

Inside, the first thing Flash noticed was that the room was divided. Whereas the other Princesses, along with Cadence and Shining’s guest suite, had both the meeting area and bedroom together as one area in their private chambers, Blueblood’s did not.

A door in the rear of the room led to the Prince’s bedroom. A door to the right led to the bathroom. What was left was a rather luxurious meeting room. Plush red couches, cushions, and reading chairs were arranged in a circle by the large hearth. Inside the circle was a long coffee table with several ice buckets and bowls on top. The buckets contained an array of beers, wines, and liquors, while the bowls housed various fruits, nuts, and chocolates.

Adorning the walls were paintings of famous unicorns—Clover the Clever, Starswirl the Bearded, and, of course, the largest being that of Princess Platinum. The Princess smiled down at Flash from beside the hearth, where she was depicted lying on a very comfortable-looking red fainting couch.

Resting against the walls were bookshelves stuffed to the rim with books, parchment, and scrolls. A telescope was set up beside the bay windows next to a table full of what Flash only knew as astronomy equipment. Yet another bookshelf was filled with maps, compasses, inkpots, and quills.

The Prince smirked as his eyes met his guard’s. “Impressive, isn’t it? My own little slice of paradise. Speaking of which…”

Blueblood trailed off as a set of hooves knocked on his door. Flash turned around to see the stallion once again open the doors with his forehooves.

“Good morning, Your Highness!” a trio of high-pitched voices exclaimed.

“Good morning, fillies. Just in time. Come in.” Blueblood stepped aside.

Three servants trotted in. One balanced a large serving tray on her back. The other two carried saddlebags. The one with the tray set it down on the coffee table, then lifted it. A bounty of yet even more fine foods—croissants, speciality breads, tea cookies, and tropical fruits—was revealed. The other two sat on opposite ends of the couch.

Blueblood pointed at Flash. “Stand beside my door. I expect visitors in about an hour. If anypony knocks, see who it is before interrupting my morning routine.”

Beside? Not outside? Morning routine? And of course with the unnecessary instructions. Great. Sarcasm aside, Flash saluted. “Yes, Your Highness, of course.”

Blueblood ignored him, hurrying to the couch. Flash turned around, but watched from the corner of his eye.

The Prince laid down on his back on the couch, then kicked off all four of his slippers. He stretched both forehooves and hindhooves, then closed his eyes. “You know the drill, fillies.”

“Yes, Your Highness!” all three replied in union.

The one with the serving tray began assembling a plate of the finest goodies. The other two opened their saddlebags. Both contained a variety of products Flash recognized as being used to care for manes, tails, and hooves.

As he leaned against his spear, Flash could barely hold back a scoff. What, he’s going to have those mares do his hooves, mane, and tail? Not even Princess Celestia does that!

And Blueblood did.

Flash watched in covert silence from the corner of his eye as the mares set to work on the Prince. One filed and polished his forehooves first, then began styling his mane with gel, mousse, and hairspray. The other took care of his hindhooves before taming his tail in the same manner as her fellow servant. The third, meanwhile, fed him by hoof, one morsel of food at a time.

To his credit, Blueblood didn’t speak very often during the pampering session. Nor did he make obscene noises of pleasure—much to Flash’s relief, who still had to inspect the door as if it were the Eternal Wall itself. No, the stallion kept quiet, his eyes closed, only interrupting his silence to ask for another strawberry or complain about a rat in his mane.

This proceeded for near an hour if the clock of the sun, moon, and stars on Blueblood’s wall was to be believed. So this is why he never takes his meal with the others. Because he wants ponies to wait on him, hoof and hoof, like… like some sort of king! What other pony ever did such a thing, other than this fool and Sombra?

Sombra. Mention of the Empire’s tyrant brought Flash’s discussion with Twilight to the forefront of his mind. So we have this “Prince”—as if he deserves the title, his only accomplishment being the last living descendant of Princess Platinum—and we also have the “noble” Orion. Starving himself, leaving his mare to be beaten…

Flash clamped his forehooves around his spear. I think I may have one last stop to make before I put this day out of my mind. Unless Ironhoof wants to fight me on that.

… We’ll see.

Flash exhaled through his nostrils, letting himself be lost again in the pattern on Blueblood’s door. We’ll see, Ironhoof. Discord or no, I have the right to visit our prisoner… and give him a piece of my mind.

~

Not even two hours passed, during which Prince Blueblood now had both of the mares walk up and down his back—a massage, he said, though Flash thought otherwise. Then, he had the mares prepare his outfit for him before another set of hooves knocked at the door.

As directed, Flash went to meet the visitors first before announcing them to Blueblood. “Who goes there?” he said as he slipped through the doors and closed them behind him.

Before him were two white unicorns. One was a stallion with a blue mane, tail, and mustache, while the other was a mare with a pink-and-white mane and tail. Upon seeing them, Flash bowed.

The stallion chuckled and raised his forehoof. “Hello there. I am Lord Fancypants, and this is my wife, Lady Fleur de Lis. We are here to meet with Prince Blueblood.”

Flash rose. “Thank you, Lord Fancypants, Lady Fleur de Lis. I am Sir Flash Sentry, His Highness Prince Blueblood’s—” the words tasted so foul—”Royal Guard. I shall inform His Highness of your arrival. Please wait here, sir, lady.”

Both unicorns nodded, prompting Flash to leave. He slipped back through the doors and announced, “Prince Blueblood, Lord Fancypants and Lady Fleur de Lis are here to see you, Your Highness.”

Blueblood, clad in a suit, sat on the couch as all three mares fed him grapes. He waved a forehoof in response. “Fillies, that’s all for today. Send Fancy and Fleur in once they’re done, guard.”

No please or thank-you? Not even a name? Typical.

The three mares bowed furtively and thanked the Prince before leaving. Flash waited until they had left before opening the doors for the two guests. He bowed again as the unicorns passed, then shut the doors behind them.

“Ah, My Prince, it is so good to see you,” Fancypants said with a bow. Fleur did the same.

Grinning, Blueblood waved his forehoof. “So good to see you both! Please, have a seat! Would you like some tea? Coffee? Mimosas?”

“Coffee sounds wonderful, My Prince,” Fleur answered.

The two settled on the couch beside Blueblood as the three began to strike up conversation. To Flash’s surprise, the conversation sounded mostly relaxed, with lots of laughter, merry and tinkling, thrown in as well. Flash did his best not to eavesdrop, but could not help but make this observation.

So the Prince has a few friends. That’s good. Makes it more interesting than listening to him say, “More polish, more polish,” all day.

Nearly an hour passed, during which Flash stared at the door and caught bits and pieces of happy conversation between his alert ears. Fancypants in particular seemed jolly, his belly laugh bringing a smile to Flash’s face more than once. If Blueblood had noticed or wanted the pegasus to leave the room, he didn’t say a word.

The conversation eventually turned to business. It was here that Flash tried his best to block out all speech—letting his mind turn inward and drift places it had liked to drift lately, like on a cliff under the stars—but not all of it could be filtered.

“So.” Fancypants set his teacup down on its saucer, rattling the fine china. “I was hoping to ask a favor of you, My Prince.”

“But of course, Fancy. What is it?”

Fleur leaned against her husband. “My Prince, our dear friend Hoity Toity has managed to find a buyer for some of our wares in Saddle Arabia.”

“Not quite the King, but close, My Prince!” Fancy added, chuckling. “He is quite interested in my haberdashery. I plan on meeting with him next weekend in the palace. It should be a very interesting experience. A cultural exchange, at least.”

“Oh, sure.” Blueblood set the glass containing his drained mimosa down. “Never been to Saddle Arabia, but I’ve heard the stories. A beautiful place, if a bit… different.”

Flash heard Fancy make a noncommittal grunt before he spoke again. “Yes, well, it is across the sea. Many things change that far east, My Prince.”

Or that far north.

Blueblood huffed. “Yes, of course, of course. Anyway, what is the favor?”

“Well, My Prince,” Fleur began, “there is but a… tiny problem if we are able to make a deal with our client.”

“And that is?”

“Tariffs, My Prince. Oh, the tariffs when it comes to international trade are just dreadful.” Fancypants scoffed. “No offense, Your Highness,” he added, raising a forehoof, “but it simply won’t be worth it for us to make that journey, transport our goods, and haggle on a price as half of our profit will be eaten up in taxes!”

Silence. Another rattle of teacup and saucer.

Flash’s ears pricked. Never before had he seen Prince Blueblood make an actual decision, other than adjourning court while laughing maniacally at Orion’s hearing. His only encounters with the Prince had been at events where he was practically contracted to appear. And even then, his biggest decision had been to behave like the boor he was. Flash found himself waiting with as much baited breath as Fancy and Fleur.

Finally, the Prince heaved a heavy sigh. “I… I see. Well… I can certainly understand your concern. I will relay it to my aunts as soon as possible.”

... Relay it to his aunts? But why?

“Oh.” Fancypants cleared his throat. His saucer and cup rattled further as they met the coffee table. “I—I see. Thank you, Your Highness. This is much appreciated.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Highness.” Fleur stood up on all fours. “We appreciate you doing this for us, very much.”

“I-I will ensure that it is done,” Blueblood said, his tone wavering. Flash heard the sound of liquid being poured into a glass. “This is a matter of grave concern. I will ensure it is addressed quickly.”

The couch groaned as Fancypants stood up. “A thousand thank-yous, Your Highness. My wife and I must be on our way, but thank you again for having us this morning.”

“Y-you’re welcome.”

Flash saw the two bow again, then move to leave. He opened the doors for them, then stood aside and bowed. “Have a good morning, Lord Fancypants, Lady Fleur,” he said, trying to keep the mix of astonishment, victory, and empathy out of his tone.

~

The mage gazed upon the Wall and saw opportunity. Not only for those of gem, but those of the three, of the day and night.

As much as the mage wanted to remain there with those of gem, he returned to the forest—to the day, the night, and the serpent. There, the three had built a fine castle for the day and night, and the serpent was learning how to live amongst them.

The mage told the day and night of those of gem, of their land, and the Wall. The day and night were excited to meet those of hoof.

The three, however, were not as pleased.

“How can you say those of gem are like us?” they told the mage. “How can we know that their intentions are pure?”

The mage, day, and night tried to reassure the three, but their hearts were hardened. And so, the three sent their six—the six who had raised the sun and moon before the day and night came to be—to meet those of gem. Among those were the Platinum, the Clover, and the Regent.

Princess Platinum… Clover the Clever… And Regent?

Regent. Regal. King. His name was King. Could it be—

No! It can’t be!

… But.

But the timeframe is correct. A little over a thousand years ago, King Sombra rose to power in the Crystal Empire.

And also, a little over a thousand years ago, Discord was sealed into stone for the first time.

And Nightmare Moon came after him.

Twilight scribbled a timeline on a leaf of parchment.

Raising her head from her notes, Twilight looked out the window to the Royal Gardens below. To think… Discord was there for a thousand years, a statue in a garden… And he might have ruled alongside Celestia and Luna.

Might have.

Sighing, Twilight looked back down at her parchment. Sunset drew near. She hadn’t slept in almost thirty-six hours. All logic and reason screamed that she should sleep.

Twilight picked up her quill and began to write.

~

The rest of Flash Sentry’s first day as Prince Blueblood’s guard was uneventful.

The same trio of mares appeared twice more. Once to hoof-feed the Prince lunch, once to hoof-feed him dinner and rub his hooves and back. A long day of doing nothing would do that to a stallion.

Other than Fancypants and Fleur, the Prince had no visitors. He napped for a few hours after they left—or, at least, Flash hoped the noises coming from his room were snores rather than sobs—and spent some time perusing books from his shelves or studying a map and compass. He didn’t say a word to Flash after his morning instruction.

So… that’s it? Flash thought as the sunset drew near. Where’s the tantrums? The screaming and barking? The ridiculous orders and insults? Did I just catch him on a good day? All I got was…

Well, a hedonistic pawn. And that I can handle. Maybe it’s the boredom that drives the guards here insane.

“Sir Flash Sentry?”

Nearly jumping from his skin, Flash spun around and bowed, spear in forehoof. “Yes, Your Highness? What can I do for you?”

Blueblood looked him up and down before sighing. “You’re dismissed.”

Flash eyed the clock on the wall. He had about fifteen minutes left, but he wasn’t about to complain. Still, he asked, “Dismissed, Your Highness? Are you su—”

A pillow whizzed past him, smacking against the door with a lame thud. The Prince’s forehooves were outstretched in mid-throw. “Yes, I’m sure! Now get out!”

Flash nudged the pillow away with a forehoof. Don’t have to tell me twice. Geez. “Thank you, Your Highness. I bid you goodnight.”

Blueblood said nothing, facing away from Flash on the couch as he left.

The doors swung closed.

Only the crackle of flames in their torches accompanied Flash as he made his way back towards his room. That was… odd, to say the least. He barks at me this morning, barely acknowledges me the rest of the day, then throws a pillow like a little colt when I leave? What the hay is wrong with that stallion?

Shaking his head, Flash had no answer. He did, however, have an answer regarding a different stallion—one he was intent on meeting once he had met with Greyhoof again. Flash’s final steps to his room were light as the note echoed in his thoughts. A surprise for me, hmm? Oh, you didn’t have to do that, Greyhoof, but now I can’t help but anticipate!

When Flash reached his door, he smiled, knocked, and then opened it. “Greyhoof, I’m—”

Nopony.

“—Back.”

Both his wings and ears drooped as Flash saw another note on the nightstand. Beside it was his typical dinner tray with vegetable stew and crusty bread… and a small box. Guess that’s my surprise.

Trotting over, Flash grabbed the note and read it:

”Flash—

I’m sorry, but my old bones were wearier than I thought after helping in the kitchens today! I do apologize, Flash, but I must go to bed if I can hope to see you in the morning. Thankfully, Allspice should be well enough to come to work tomorrow, so you can tell me all about today then. I hope it went well.

Here is your dinner and your surprise. Please keep this between us. I would rather not get the castle chefs in trouble.

Goodnight, and see you on the morrow,

Greyhoof”

Lacking in appetite, Flash looked over the stew and bread and went for the box. It was a plain, white box, almost like a takeout container. He opened it, then grinned from ear to ear.

Within was a small loaf of honeycake. Made from a simple mix of hazelnuts, apples, and honey, it was his favorite Hearth’s Warming sweet. Flash’s mother had been the first to make it for him oh so many years ago, and both he and his father had gobbled it up like turkeys. His first Hearth’s Warming as a Royal Guard was brightened by the small portion of honeycake he, along with the rest of the freshly minted recruits, had been served. As a Knight, he would get a small loaf like this all to himself, but only once a year.

Twice now.

“Dammit, Greyhoof, why’d you have to sleep?” Flash laughed. “You didn’t have to get me anything, but this…”

He let his words be muffled by one, then two, then three large bites. The crisp apples blended in with the hearty filberts, both of which were accented by the succulent clover honey. The loaf almost melted in his mouth, until only one measly sliver remained.

Flash shook his head. “Guess that’s all I have left for tomorrow. Really should have… paced myself, but oh well!” He couldn’t help but laugh again, feeling like a colt on his first Hearth’s Warming.

I didn’t really need that after today, today not being that bad, but…

Flash paused, looking out his window to see the first hints of dusk creeping towards the horizon. Soon, Princess Luna’s flutes would play and the dungeons would close for visitors.

As a Royal Guard, he was not a visitor, but if he wanted to do this, he would have to do it properly.

As his gaze drifted back to the last sliver of honeycake, Flash got an idea.

~

“C’mon, eat! Eat!”

The huge unicorn kicked the bars of his cell, his ironclad hindhooves sending a cacophony of screeches through his ears. Orion brought his forehooves to his ears and yelped, the pain ripping through his skull.

Before him was not one, but two large bowls of oats, both doused generously in honey and sugar. The warm, sweet, sticky scent was flush in his nostrils, coiling all around, sending his deprived stomach into further rumbles.

Orion didn’t move towards the bowls.

The huge unicorn—the warden, whose name escaped his famished mind, not that it mattered—barked in his face, spittle coating his muzzle. “What is wrong with you?! You need to bucking eat!”

“I don’t need to do anything,” Orion said, the hint of a smirk curling across his lips.

The warden smashed his hindhooves into the bars again, but Orion was ready this time. While his forehooves couldn’t completely block out the noise, they did enough to let him hear the warden scream in frustration.

“Your trial’s in two days! You’re going to be eating after that, like it or not!”

“Give me my ring back, and I’ll eat your bucking oats right now,” Orion said with a sneer.

“Ring? Ha!” The warden moved from the bars. “It’s only a ring if you can get married! Otherwise, it’s a weapon, bub. And you’re not getting it back. Not with that attitude!”

Orion leaned against the wall and crossed his forehooves over his chest. “Then I’m not eating.”

Rolling his eyes, the warden shook his head. As he turned to leave, he shouted, “Eat your bucking oats, bub, before I feed ‘em to you through a straw!”

The threat had been made several times, but Orion knew there was only emptiness in his words. Even the Captain, as haughty and aggressive as he was, hadn’t kept any of his violent promises. Not until the trial, at least. Princess Celestia was a lot of things, many of them terrible, but she would not stand for that abuse.

Not yet.

As Orion pressed his back into the cold, stone wall of his cage, he closed his eyes and focused on his breath. The sight of food still set his stomach into agony, but the initial pain of his hunger had long passed. Now he only felt a dull ache that radiated through his bones. Coupled with the overwhelming fatigue that had him sleeping more hours than he could count, his hunger strike was more bearable than he thought.

He had not wanted to do this, but when the warden and his cronies had refused to give him the ring back—even going so far as to dangle it outside his cell, their twisted muzzles spewing wretched laughter in his face—he had been left with no choice.

Even if he were a national spectacle, even if the papers talked about him endlessly, even if this made him an even more fitting glutton for punishment in the eyes of the “law,” it was worth it. It was worth it to see that fat unicorn kick and scream over his two full bowls of oats.

With no lawyer standing between him and the royals, Orion knew he would be able to make his one request. That would be for the ring. The rest of him could rot. And he would, and soon.

The cold stone was soothing beneath his white-hot skin. Starving, and still he felt a flame burn from within him. He closed his eyes further, ready to drift off yet again.

Then came the hoofsteps.

Groaning, Orion opened one eye. Hadn’t the warden had his fun for the night? He weakly rose to his hooves, his shackles clanking against each other with each motion. He shuffled to the bars and peered through the torchlit darkness. “Back already?”

The answer he received was not the warden’s sarcastic bellow, nor the thunderous stomping of his hooves against the floor, but quicker hoofsteps. A smaller pony. One lighter on their hooves, fast but precise, almost like a… bird.

“Oh. It’s you.” Orion huffed.

Orion realized who it was before he stepped into view. The flickering flames of the dungeon illuminated his tangerine coat and blue eyes. They drew even more light to his tight frown and narrowed gaze.

“It’s me.” His wings were fully stretched. A sign of aggression. “Glad you remember me. That would be an awkward conversation if you didn’t, now, wouldn’t it?” His words were biting, no humor in them.

“Cut to the chase,” Orion spat, or would have spat if he had the energy. “What is it this time?”

The pegasus blinked. “What do you mean?”

“What all your comrades have done. Would you like to call me names, or talk about how my marriage wouldn’t be a real marriage anyway, or dangle my engagement ring outside my cell and laugh?”

The guard’s eyes grew wide. “They did that to you?”

Orion scoffed. “Don’t play coy. I bet all of you had a good laugh over it!”

“No, we didn’t.” He pressed his forehooves against the bars. Orion noticed that there was something tucked under his wing. “I had no idea that was happening. Nopony did! If the Princesses knew, then—”

“Buck the Princesses!” With the last of his strength, Orion smacked the bars hard with a forehoof. The ruckus echoed in the tiny dungeon. “What would they care?!”

“Calm down,” the guard hissed through his teeth, “and they definitely would care if they knew you were being abused!”

“The Princesses institutionalized racism, classism, and oligarchy! Why would they give a damn about one lone prisoner catching shit from his guards?”

The pegasus paused at first, looking all around, then sighed. “I can’t exactly disagree with you on that first point—”

Orion’s eyes widened to the size of his uneaten dinner bowls.

“—But on the second, I know they would care. If you don’t want them to know about it, then fine. I won’t say a word.” He sighed again as his steely gaze met Orion’s, his demeanor shifting in an instant from apologetic to angered. “And speaking of ponies getting hurt, Orion, funny enough that you’re fretting so much about yourself when your mare is the one hurt by your little publicity stunt.”

Orion’s ears flattened as he snarled. “What did you say?”

“Clover. She’s your mare, isn’t she?”

Your mare. It was true. It had been for a long time. To hear it come from the mouth of a near-stranger—a near-stranger who had pressed his weapon against Orion’s throat and raised forehooves against him, no less—was strange.

To hear it come from an Equestrian Royal Guard was beyond bizarre.

The pegasus seized upon Orion’s silence and continued. “I caught her almost a month ago wandering in the castle. Should have taken her to the Captain. Should have arrested her for trespassing. Should have thrown her in the cell beside you. I didn’t. You want to know why?”

Orion wanted to respond, but his mind was blank. A Royal Guard? On his side?

“She had a bruise on her cheek. She refused to tell me who did it to her.” Now his forehooves were shaking. His wings flared towards the ceiling. “If she had, I would have punished them myself. Poor mare, scared and alone, getting treated like that. But I found out later who did it to her. Want to know who?”

Orion’s ears howled with pain as the pegasus struck the bars. “Your family, Orion. Your family did that to her!”

Orion finally opened his mouth, but only a cry of surprise and pain escaped.

“You brought this upon her! You had to go and throw a buck—no, a fucking temper tantrum in the Royal Court, assault me, and my fellows, and Twilight, and it’s Clover who’s punished! You think the warden and his goons are bad? Huh?!” he shouted, adding to the ringing in Orion’s ears. “And you go on and starve yourself in protest of how you’re being treated?! What do you think’s going to happen to her, Orion? Your family took care of her, she was your ward, and now the ones who cared for her the most hurt her! Even when this is all over, you have a place to stay! You have guaranteed meals! What does she have?! Nothing! Nothing, all because you couldn’t keep control of yourself! All because you lost your temper! Because you couldn’t—control—yourself!”

Huffing and puffing, the guard stared hard at Orion. His wings and hooves trembled with untapped adrenaline. If he had been carrying his spear, Orion was sure it would have been pointed at him now, mere inches from impaling him.

Truth be told, he deserved it.

Orion could barely hold himself up. He leaned his forehead against the bars. The words swam in circles through his ears, undeterred by the current of his doubt. What reason would the pegasus have to lie? He had violated a central tenant of the order already; if the walls had ears, he would be a pariah before the day was over.

“Because you couldn’t control yourself,” the guard said again, ice in his eyes. Orion shivered in spite of his flame. “I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re happy, Orion, because she sure isn’t.”

“I…” Orion croaked. He brought a forehoof to his eyes in shame. “I… I never wanted… I never thought…”

“You should have thought harder.”

“I… I know.” The tears flowed freely now. Orion was determined not to let the other stallion see. Friend or foe, he would not give him the satisfaction. “I… I just… No matter what, I… I promised her she would be okay. I-I didn’t know what would happen to me, but I promised...

“And that day… I… I just lost it. I-I th-thought of everything we’ve been through, a-all the hiding, and the l-lies, and I just…”

Silence.

Wings rustled. Something was set on the floor of his cell beside him. Orion looked down.

A tiny slice of honeycake.

“She’s in the Crystal Empire,” the pegasus said, lowering his voice to a whisper, “and she’ll be okay. For now. If you want to see her again, consider that attitude of yours. Not everypony is against you. Not in the low places, and not always the high, either. If you show remorse… there’s a chance.”

Orion wanted to ask more, but all he could think about was the scrumptious-smelling honeycake at his hooves. That… and the quiet kindness of the one who had put steel to his throat.

“None of that matters if you starve. You will get your ring back. You will. But not if you’re dead. That ring won’t make it to your coffin. So do it for her, at least, if not yourself.”

Eyes to the floor, nostrils full of sweet and spice, empty in mind and body, but not heart and soul, Orion listened. Really listened.

There was something beneath his voice. Something that told Orion he wasn’t only speaking to himself.

Then, as suddenly as he had arrived, he was leaving. His forehooves slid from the bars. He picked up all four hooves and headed towards the exit.

But not before he said, “Goodbye, Orion.”

Orion managed a breath. “Wait.” He raised his head, tears streaming down his face. “Who are you?”

“Somepony who cares,” was all he said.

The door slammed shut, and he was alone in the dark again.

Orion devoured everything before him—the honeycake, both bowls of oats, the bucket of water he had merely sipped at. He devoured it all, sweetness mixed with his salty tears, and he felt stronger than he had in years.

Author's Notes:

Woo, that was a long one! Hope you guys enjoyed this one!

Next release date is uncertain, but I hope to at least post one more chapter (definitely not this long though) this month, if not two.

Also, I made some tag changes to the story. Don't let them confuse you too much. (I hate that we only have five character slots...) The Sex tag is for the sexual references in dialogue and some implied situations that have already occurred. If you don't know what I mean, ignore this comment. (Sorry, MariusIoannesP. )

If you guys haven't already, you should check out Baxter and Robinson's WHJT discussion group.

Finally, here's the next chapter's title for those who want to speculate: Voir Dire — Part I