What Hath Joined Together

by Bad_Seed_72

First published 29th of December, 2013

Sequel to "The Order". Despite receiving a harsh reprimand from Captain Ironhoof, Flash Sentry still struggles with his feelings for Twilight. When he is assigned to escort her to the Crystal Empire, tensions on all sides escalate.

Despite receiving a harsh reprimand from Captain Ironhoof for his "little stunt," Flash Sentry still struggles with his forbidden feelings for Princess Twilight Sparkle. Maintaining a professional stance while adhering to the law of the land proves an even more difficult task, especially when his one act of defiance only seems to awaken the seething rebellion within him.

When Flash is assigned to escort Twilight to the Crystal Empire at Princess Celestia's insistence, tensions on all sides only seem to escalate.

Full list of character tags: Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Princess Cadence, Twilight Sparkle, Flash Sentry, Shining Armor, Discord, Prince Blueblood, OC, Other.

Thanks to Sir Rustbucket and Holo for editing.

Now with a TVTropes page! A huge thanks and tons of Doge GIFs to Poptard for creating it!

Now Featured on Equestria Daily!

Rated Teen for some language, mild violence, and thematic elements. Sex tag is for sexual references in dialogue and implied sexual situations.

A Lion For A Day

“Sir Flash Sentry?”

Greyhoof knocked again, his voice trembling as he rapped his forehoof on the oak. “Sir Flash Sentry, are you awake?”

The servant took a step back from the door and sighed, glancing at the weathered pocket watch in his hoof. It was already several minutes past the awakening call. It wasn’t like his master to slack off when it came to his duties.

As he put the watch back into one of the pockets of his suit, Greyhoof rustled a crumpled note lying in another. “Sire?” he called out once more, coughing a little. “Are you al—“

The door swung open so violently that the elderly stallion almost fell backwards onto his rump.

In the doorway stood Sir Flash Sentry, his mane a tangled, unsightly mess of haphazard blue. His eyes were a weary wilderness of empty iris and hollow pupil, endless blue on voidless black. With bags under his eyes and matted streaks on his cheeks, the pegasus stood there in silence, breathing heavily and almost shaking as he held the heavy door open.

“S-sire…” Greyhoof steadied himself against the doorframe and looked into the eyes of his master. He bowed quickly, then asked, “Are you—“

“No.”

For a moment, there was no sound in that threshold but Flash’s breathing, as slow and heavy as that of a stallion over twice his age. Greyhoof took a cautious step aside, then peeked around Flash’s flared wings.

All across the floor, Flash Sentry’s golden armor laid about in disarray. It was obvious that each sacred piece had been cast aside with purposeless rage. There were chips and cracks in a few of the pieces where hoof and concrete had met metal with particular force.

The holy spear had suffered the same treatment. Greyhoof narrowed his eyes through the silence and saw that it had been snapped in two after striking the great mahogany wardrobe in Flash’s closet, which had subsequently cracked upon impact. The weapon rested in uneven halves on the cold floor, its head and part of the shaft deeply embedded in one of the walls.

Somehow, Flash Sentry had literally snapped iron in two.

The old Earth pony let a little smile grace his muzzle for a second at the sight.

“What’s so funny?” Flash’s gruff voice brought Greyhoof to attention.

Like any loyal servant, Greyhoof turned towards his master’s voice. Unlike any other servant, he smiled up at his friend and said with a bit of a chuckle and an impressed grin, “I’ve never seen a pegasus snap a spear in two.”

At the word pegasus, Flash Sentry lowered his wings and turned around. Without a word, he stomped over to his bed and flopped onto his stomach. As he lay against the bare mattress, Flash Sentry stayed silent while Greyhoof closed and locked the door behind him.

“So…” Greyhoof looked down at the mess of armor. “I suppose that first day in Princess Twilight’s Royal Court didn’t go so well?”

Flash rolled over onto his side and brought his pillow to his face. “Not at all, Greyhoof,” he said, muffling the venom in his voice.

“Ah.” Flattening his ears, Greyhoof muttered, “I’m sorry to hear that.” He leaned down and began gathering the pieces of Flash’s armor into a pile. They clacked and clanged against each other, making Flash wince with every minute noise.

Flash sighed and threw his pillow off the bed. He shook his head as he rose to his hooves. “No, Greyhoof, don’t. I’ll clean that up.”

Greyhoof looked over at him. “But, si—“

“I made the mess,” Flash said quietly, grabbing the blue saddle blanket in his teeth. I’m not going to have you cleaning up after my dumb mistakes. He groaned and shook his muzzle as he flung the saddle blanket back onto the bed.

“I know you did.” Greyhoof walked over and started pulling at the end of the spear that was embedded in the wall with both forehooves. Grimacing with pained effort, he added, “I figured something terrible must have happened yesterday to warrant all of this.”

Flash hurried over and placed a forehoof on Greyhoof’s shoulder. “Here, let me get that,” he said with a frown. I don’t want you to hurt yourself due to my foalishness, either.

Greyhoof watched as Flash Sentry freed the embedded half of the spear out of the wall with a few tugs. Flash then set the broken spear aside, shaking his head and mumbling to himself. Nothing can fix this.

With a laugh, Greyhoof mused, “Well, is there anything you do want me to do for you this morning, Sir Flash Sentry? Or am I just in the way?”

Flash frowned. “You’re never in the way, Greyhoof.”

Greyhoof chuckled and reached inside one of his pockets. “Ah, you’re too kind, sire.” Wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, he said, “Though, if there is something I can do for you, I might have a better excuse for delaying…”

Flash turned around, his eyes widening. “Delaying?”

Greyhoof put his handkerchief away and withdrew a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket. Before he could make it readable, Flash snatched it from his open forehoof.

“Delaying giving you this, sire.”

Flash straightened the note as quickly as he could. In Captain Ironhoof’s heavy hoof-writing, the note simply stated:

“Flash Sentry. My office. ASAP.”

A wave of nausea washed over him, threatening to drown him in its depths. The piece of parchment fell to the floor. For a moment, Flash Sentry was silent again.

“Sire?”

Flash looked in the mirror of the wardrobe, then his forehooves.

In his mind’s eye, he saw her forehoof between them.

Greyhoof gently laid a forehoof over his shoulder. “Sire?”

“Greyhoof…” Flash sucked a lungful of air between his teeth, trying his best not to shake.

“… Yes?” Greyhoof pressed his forehoof more firmly down on his shoulder.

Flash paused, taking a breath through his nostrils. His shoulders slumped as he sat down on his haunches and stared at the concrete below his hooves. “Did you…

“Did you hear what happened yesterday?”

Greyhoof shook his head. “No, sire,” he said, almost in a whisper.

A moment passed.

Then, Flash stammered, his voice near inaudible, “I… I… I…

“I did it, Greyhoof.”

Flash Sentry shifted, looking past his shoulder at his friend. He smiled faintly, then returned his eyes to his hooves.

“I finally did it.”

Greyhoof swallowed. “Do you mean you… You tol—“

“No.”

He said it with the same amount of force as when he’d finally opened the door.

Flash Sentry turned around, leading Greyhoof’s forehoof off his shoulder and back against his side. “No, but I… I kissed her.”

Greyhoof’s eyes widened to the size of suns, nearly bulging out of his bewildered skull.

Quickly holding up his forehooves, Flash began to turn crimson as he sputtered, “No, no, no! Not like that! I… I mean…

“It was a courtly kiss. On the hoof.”

Looking away, Greyhoof muttered with a bit of a blush on his cheeks, “Oh… I see…”

Silence.

“Well…” Greyhoof looked up and rose to his hooves. Unable to hold back a coy little chuckle, he nudged Flash in the ribs, one stallion to another. “Well… you did it, Flash. You finally did it.”

Flash grinned for a fraction of a second in reply. He turned away in a combination of embarrassment and daydream. “Yeah…”

“But…” Sighing again, Greyhoof plucked Captain Ironhoof’s note from the floor and set it on Flash’s nightstand, shaking his muzzle at it. “I suppose that’s what this little thing’s all about.”

Flash tilted his head. “You aren’t… angry at me, Greyhoof?”

Greyhoof flared his nostrils in puzzlement. “Angry? Why would I be angry, dear boy?”

“Because I…” Standing up, Flash stretched his wings and ran a forehoof through his mane to flatten it. “I stepped out of line. I did it… of my own accord.”

Greyhoof raised an eyebrow. “Oh? She did not gesture for you to do so, sire? You did it… on your own?”

His eyes darting from the note on the nightstand, to Greyhoof, then back again, Flash swallowed before folding his wings back to his side and standing up a little straighter. “Ye—yeah.”

“Hmm. And how did she react?”

Tangerine-orange cheeks melted before a scarlet flame. Willing his wings to stay put, Flash fidgeted a bit before he managed, “I… I think…”

Flash paused, swallowing hard. In a few words, he breathed life into his greatest fear.

“I think she… she liked it.”

With a smirk and a chuckle, Greyhoof reached up and patted his shoulder, whispering between his teeth, “Good show, boy. Good show.”

Flash raised an eyebrow. “Greyhoof?”

Ignoring him, Greyhoof went to work picking up the knight’s armor and setting it on the bed. Flash shuffled his hooves and watched in silence, tilting his head. ’Good show’? I’m probably going to get—

He shivered as that same wave of nausea stabbed at his stomach. —Fired for this. And who’s going to take in a disgraced ex-Guard? Certainly not my father.

Once the assortment of golden armor had been moved from the floor to the mattress, Greyhoof trotted weakly over to Flash again, raising a forehoof as he bowed. “Please step aside, Sir Flash Sentry. I must get your armor polish.”

“Armor polish?” Flash held back the urge to scoff. “Greyhoof… Do you have any idea what this means?” Not to insult you, but your age is showing…

After I talk to the Captain, I won’t need to polish a single piece of armor anymore.

The old stallion ignored him again and stepped past him, grabbing a bottle of polish from the wardrobe. Bringing a forehoof to his chest, Flash stood firm as he continued, “This mess—this whole thing’s a mess! It doesn’t matter anymore!” His voice began to shake and rise in pitch, his heart quickening its pace in distraught recognition.

Picking up the bottle with a forehoof and securing a clean rag in his mouth, Greyhoof calmly walked over to the bed and set both down. He picked up Flash’s chestplate and began to polish it, applying a generous amount of the liquid and scrubbing at it with the rag.

Flash stomped the floor, the thud of his keratin echoing in the cold room. Narrowing his eyes in misplaced rage, he addressed his servant with brewing fury. ”Greyhoof!”

Looking up from his work, Greyhoof continued working and asked, “Yes, sire?”

“Why…” Flash bit his lip. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well…” Greyhoof paused and looked over his shoulder, a small smile forming on his muzzle. “Your armor needs polishing, Sir Flash Sentry. It got a bit scuffed, as you can see.”

Flash shook his muzzle rapidly, his patience beginning to wane. “No! Why are you… why are you even bothering, Greyhoof?”

Greyhoof set the tools down and tilted his head. “’Bothering?’”

“Yes!” Groaning, Flash stared at him and gestured toward the note on the nightstand. “You see what this message means? After what I just told you?! What do you think the Captain is going to do to me after… after what I did?”

Flash whirled around and bit his tongue, his wings flaring in anger. One moment… one moment for everything. Everything and nothing.

… Was it really worth it?

The soft patter of hooves against his floor and the comfort of one resting on his shoulder should’ve made Flash Sentry turn around, but he didn’t.

“Flash…” Unfazed by his outbursts, Greyhoof lowered his voice and addressed him with a gentle tone. “What you did was very, very brave. Any stallion worth his salt cannot truly deny that.”

“Like it matters now,” Flash mumbled, huffing.

Greyhoof patted his shoulder again. “Maybe not. For you did… well, honestly, a stupid thing. Something I agree with, yes. Something brave, yes. But something stupid all the same. At least, those who believe themselves to be wise think it is so.”

Flash stood there, stone and statue and silent. He took his breaths slowly as he stared off into nothingness.

“But…” Greyhoof removed his forehoof and stood beside Flash Sentry, looking up at him with a new fire in his old eyes. “The ancients had a saying, dear boy…

“’Better be a lion for a day, than a sheep all your life.’”

Greyhoof bowed with a grin on his muzzle, low and deep. “And,” he said as he rose up, “I wouldn’t let any lion of mine look like anything but the distinguished knight he is… even on his final day.”

Finally meeting Greyhoof’s eyes, Flash couldn’t deny the unmistakable sadness in them. Neither could he deny the truth of that statement, which began to cycle again and again within his mess of a mind—a mantra he would carry with him through this final morning.

A lion for a day.

Flash Sentry wasn’t sure of how long he stood there, listening to the rough sensation of hooves, barely concealed by cloth, rubbing against metal.

Sometime after the scrubbing died down, Greyhoof tapped him on the shoulder again, a manebrush in his mouth and a question in his eyes.

For the first time in many, many mornings, Flash Sentry let Greyhoof brush his mane.

Better than a sheep for the rest of my life.

A Sheep All Your Life

Flash Sentry knocked three times on Captain Ironhoof’s door. There was no trembling in any of his limbs as he waited for a response. Even as a few agonizingly long seconds ticked by, he stood tall—almost proud, if he would have believed pride to be a virtue rather than a vice. He kept his hooves firmly on the ground, not fidgeting with his armor or his forehooves.

Waiting to accept his fate.

A lion for a day, he thought, taking a deep breath through his nostrils. With his mane combed to perfection and the bristles on his helmet tamed straight, he resembled the mighty beast Greyhoof had reminded him to be. He hoped his heart would match the lion’s courage.

When the door finally swung open, there was no stammering Serving Bell standing before him this time, nor any hasty apologies or enthusiastic bows.

There was just Ironhoof, stone and statue and silent.

Clad in shining purple armor, the Captain stood tall as he looked down at his underling. His eyes narrowed, his muzzle pulled into a taut, stoic expression, and his nostrils flared. Captain Ironhoof said not a word. Even so, Flash heard everything, loud and clear.

“Captain,” Flash greeted, bowing low. “I understand that you wanted to see me, sir?”

“Come in,” Ironhoof said gruffly, taking a step away from the door. Flash bowed again and slowly entered, avoiding his superior’s gaze.

Inside, a fine array of breakfast platters littered the Captain’s desk. Pancakes and syrup, toast with butter and jam, omelettes with fresh vegetables and fine cheeses, fresh fruits of every color—all tempted Flash’s nostrils, making his stomach growl in protest.

Suppressing the urge to leap upon the bounty and devour it before Ironhoof’s eyes, Flash did not respond to his stomach’s call as he took the chair opposite the Captain’s.

Captain Ironhoof sat down beside him, his posture as rigid as his namesake. He sat up straight in his chair and stared daggers at his underling while he crossed his forehooves in front of him. The meal went untouched, sending pleasant aromas high to the heavens and both hungry stallion’s snouts.

Ironhoof didn’t move. He stared, eyes fixated on drilling into Flash’s pupils.

Flash Sentry, wondering if perhaps a breach of more minute protocol would be justified, contemplated speaking up. The silence growing between them was thick and heavy—almost nauseating.

A lion for a day. Look proud on your last day, Flash willed himself, utilizing every muscle in his body to sit quietly in his chair.

On other days, he might have tapped his hindhooves against the carpet, or his forehooves on the desk, or adjusted his shoulder-guards or the blue bristles on his golden helmet. He might have coughed and cleared his throat, or shifted position in the chair until he was sure he would tip it over.

Not today.

Ironhoof’s nostrils flared after a few more thick seconds of silence, his eyes still narrowed and locked on the pegasus. He sparked his horn and let a tendril of magic wander across the table. He selected a strawberry, then brought it to his mouth.

Ironhoof chewed. Flash sat.

After swallowing, Captain Ironhoof darted his gaze from the platter of delicacies to the pegasus guard, then back again. He cleared his throat and wiped his muzzle with a fetlock, finally averting his eyes from Flash Sentry’s for a momentous millisecond.

Though ashamed to admit it, Flash breathed an inward sigh of relief at this small mercy. Sweat trickled down his nape under the Captain’s intense stare, the suspense all but killing him. Please, Ironhoof. Please. If you have any mercy, just get it over with. Just let me go.

Just let me go so I can face my fellows next, and then, my father.

“I suppose you know why I called you in here.”

Ironhoof’s words carried a heavy weight as they left his tongue—almost if he didn’t want to give Flash the luxury of saying them. He plucked another strawberry with his aura and stared back at the pegasus again.

Flash bowed his head slightly, lowering his gaze to his hindhooves. “Yes, Captain. I know why, sir.”

“Good,” Ironhoof said, almost in a grunt. He chewed this next morsel loudly, smacking his lips with each munch. “Of all the ponies I would’ve ever thought I would have to counsel about etiquette and courtesy,” he began, tilting his head down at his soldier, “I would have never guessed it would be you, Flash Sentry.”

I’m sorry, Flash thought of replying, but decided against it. He kept his eyes to the floor.

The sound of Ironhoof sliding a platter across the desk filled Flash’s ears. The Captain then began loudly noshing on whichever treat he selected next.

Of course. Rub it in, Flash thought, almost mournfully. His stomach growled again with equal lament, as if missing breakfast was as much of a tragedy as being stripped of one’s rank, duty, and livelihood.

Flash ignored this sensation once more, listening to Ironhoof smack his lips and even lick his forehooves in bestial pleasure.

“You know,” the Captain mumbled through a mouthful of something delicious, “I usually enjoy conversations like this, Flash Sentry. Disciplining the Guard is part of any Captain’s duty. Especially…”

After swallowing, Ironhoof cleared his throat loudly and finished, “Especially when said Guard violates one of the most basic tenets of his duties.”

Biting his lower lip, Flash didn’t reply. The vision of a gentle, soft, purple forehoof filled his vision, as did the quiet, compassionate magenta eyes of its owner. He shook his head slightly, willing that vision to leave him be. No. Not now. Not now, and not ever.

A sharper, louder noise than that of a plate being dragged across a desk resonated through the small office. The steady thump of Captain Ironhoof’s hooves hitting the floor as he left his desk, then trotted around it, seemed as foreboding as the rhythm of any march to the gallows.

A thick, rough forehoof grabbed his chin, unfiled keratin raking across his fur. Captain Ironhoof rose Flash Sentry’s eyes to meet his.

There they were again, those eyes. Narrowed. Unwavering. Full of fire in their ice, a burning tempest of steel-gray and black against blue. Hellbent on crashing into their recipient, then tearing him apart from the inside-out.

“What were you thinking, Flash Sentry?!”

“I—I…” I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to show her my gratitude. My courtesy. My humility.

I wanted to show her how I…

How I feel…

“Well?” Ironhoof snorted, his breath hot steam that reeked of syrup and strawberries. If Flash Sentry had not one iota of respect or discipline, he would’ve retched in reply. “What’s your twisted little reason, soldier?”

“I…” Flash paused and bit his lip, lowering his gaze as far as he could from his superior’s.

“I wasn’t thinking, sir.”

At this, Ironhoof released him immediately, letting Flash’s head dip down and almost smack against his chest. “You’re damn right you weren’t thinking.”

Raising his head back up, Flash replied, “Yes, sir, I was not. And I’m sor—”

Ironhoof smacked a forehoof on the desk, hard, sending dishes of gourmet breakfast food skyward. A few pancakes fell from their plate, a hoof-full of grapes rolled down to the floor, and an entire container of syrup tipped over into a sticky mess, all ignored by their usurper.

Flash Sentry stayed in his chair, though he felt his hackles rise and his heart begin to thunder in a mix of fear and contempt.

“Don’t waste my time with your worthless apologies!” Ironhoof bared his teeth, rows of flattened molars glowing demonic in the mid-morning dark.

He lunged towards Flash Sentry, standing tall on his hindhooves as he held himself up with his forehooves on the desk. He thrust his muzzle forward until it was mere inches from the other stallion’s, snorting his hot exhalation of rage. “You and I both know who you are, Flash Sentry. Where you are from. And what you are.

“You and I both know that Princess Twilight Sparkle made no motion for you to…” Ironhoof practically growled out the last words, “Dishonor her that way.”

His wings shaking, trying their best to unfurl themselves against the will of their master, Flash Sentry could only take a slow, uneasy breath. The Captain didn’t flinch as Flash raised his eyes to meet his superior’s. Flash breathed back in the silence, letting Ironhoof know that he hadn’t been rendered as incapable as he might have thought.

If Ironhoof viewed this as a challenge from the other stallion, he did not acknowledge it. Instead, he tilted his head so that his horn pointed directly at Flash Sentry’s helmet—one lunge away from impaling the rebellious mind below it.

While he maintained this display, Ironhoof unloaded on the fool below him, mincing no words. “If it were anypony but you who grabbed the Princess’s hoof—any Princesses’ hoof—without being prompted, you would be cleaning out that squalid little cell you call a home this very bucking instant. If it were anypony but Flash Sentry, one of the finest Royal Guards… and one of the few I thought I could trust...”

Running his tongue across his teeth, Ironhoof paused before he said darkly, “If it were anypony but you, Flash Sentry, there’d be one disappointed father with an ingrate of a son on his doorstep right now.”

Flash’s wings nearly flared in righteous anger at this last insult. For a moment, he felt his eyelids narrow, snapping them open as soon as he realized what he was doing. A lion for a day. Dignity. Grace. Make Greyhoof proud.

I’ll never make my father proud, and Greyhoof is as close as I have.

Captain Ironhoof clambered off the desk and stood proud on all fours. He pointed a hoof at Flash Sentry. “You got off lucky, you know that?” he said, his forehoof shaking as he kept it trained on the pegasus.

“No, sir,” Flash said before he could stop himself. Immediately, his eyes widened in horror at what he had done. No! No, no! Don’t interrupt him! Stupid, stupid—

Ironhoof snorted and spat through his teeth, “If it weren’t for Princess Celestia demanding me to do otherwise, I’d have you on suspension right now for your little stunt.”

If Flash’s eyes could’ve popped from his skull, they would have done so. They would have rolled over to Ironhoof’s hooves and stared up at him for good measure.

His jaw agape, Flash asked, “Puh… Princess… Princess Celestia?”

“No, the barkeep down the street! Of course Princess Celestia, you dense sack of flesh!” Ironhoof sneered and took a step away from him, gritting his teeth. “Instead of thanking any lucky stars that you aren’t holed up in some grimy motel for a week on suspension, you’d better thank Princess Celestia!”

Flash opened and closed his mouth, feeling his head tilt involuntarily in interest. But… but, surely, Princess Celestia must—

Still wearing his scowl, Ironhoof jumped over onto his chair again and slumped into it, then pushed a plate of pancakes towards himself. Levitating a fork in his magic, he speared a bite violently and scoured it in syrup.

“I was going to suspend you for a week and have you think about your little screw-up, but our dear Princess Celestia,” he said, unable to hide a note of bitterness in his voice, “convinced me that you were just acting out of care for Princess Twilight.”

Dumbfounded, Flash merely opened and closed his mouth again.

Ironhoof shoved his food into his mouth and chewed joylessly, swallowing quickly so he could continue. “What with that despicable, outrageous little bastard Orion—shaming his family, betraying tradition, and making an utter fool of himself on top of attacking our Princess and our Guard—pulling his stunt on the Princess’s already stressful first day, well…”

Ironhoof wiped his muzzle and stared straight at Flash Sentry. “Well, it only makes sense that maybe the Guard who protected her felt the need to get a bit too chummy with her after that little incident, doesn’t it?”

A thousand thoughts galloped through Flash’s mind, none of them coherent. Princess Celestia! But… but… how? And how can she not…? “Chummy”? Chummy?!

But wait… That means…

“Answer me!”

Flash gasped as he was jolted back into reality by the loud smack of Ironhoof’s forehoof against the desk. Nearly falling out of his chair, he grasped the arms of the chair tightly. “Y-yes, sir! S-sir, sorry, I—I was—”

“Don’t you for a minute think of repeating this little stunt, Flash Sentry,” the Captain said, lowering his eyes as he did his fork. He brought his forehooves together and leaned forward. “Know your place. Perhaps my praise of you and your special assignment went to your head yesterday. I’m not sure. Regardless, know your place.

“You may be one of our best Royal Guards—committed to duty, perfect punctuality, not even one incident on your record before today—but you are not special, Flash Sentry,” Ironhoof finished with a snarl.

His molars were bared again now, rows and rows of them, poised like tiny daggers within his carnivorous maw. “You are not special. You are to abide by the rules of our Guard and Equestria at all times. You are still a Guard, and you will never be a Captain. You will never be close to being an equal with the Princesses, so do not treat them as such. They are your betters… as am I.”

Captain Ironhoof grinned as those last words left his tongue. Triumphant, he asked with that toothy smile, “Do I make myself clear, Flash Sentry?”

Flash Sentry looked into the eyes of a better stallion than he, and bowed his head towards the floor, towards the below, towards himself.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good.” Captain Ironhoof levitated the fork in his magic again, guiding it with the precision of a marksman towards an omelette. “I hope that we will not have a conversation like this again.”

Flash Sentry bowed his head stiffly. “No, sir.” I’d rather face my father.

“One more thing,” Ironhoof said as he began to slice the omelette with the side of his fork. Waiting until Flash Sentry looked up, Ironhoof added, “I’ve placed you on leave for today. I figured that you could benefit from a day off. ‘Clear your head,’ you know.”

On leave. Normally, any of Canterlot Castle’s Royal Guards would’ve welcomed an unexpected day off. Steel Wind and Sharp Spear—both with more aspirations of partying than promotion—came to mind.

Flash Sentry, as his little stunt had demonstrated, was not a normal Royal Guard.

At this revelation, Flash only bowed in acknowledgment. “Yes, sir. I understand. Thank you, sir.”

“Your duties in guarding Princess Twilight’s Royal Court will resume tomorrow morning as usual. For now, take the day off. Do some deep thinking,” Ironhoof said, popping a bite of egg, mushroom, and bell pepper in his mouth.

“Yes, sir.” Sensing the adrenaline of fear and rage beginning to slowly dissipate within his veins, Flash Sentry only needed to wait now to be excused. Then would come Greyhoof, and, probably, a lonely day spent in the sanctity of sheets and dreams.

A day off from guarding her Royal Court. Leaving Princess Twilight to the guard of somepony else. I hope that there aren’t any more Orions today.

Though he’d never been known to be telepathetic, Captain Ironhoof’s next words brought that possibility to Flash’s mind. “And, in the off-chance that you are as concerned about Princess Twilight Sparkle today as you were yesterday,” he said snidely, waving a forehoof, “she has taken the day off as well. Her attacker shall be dealt with tomorrow night.”

If Orion hadn’t take up hooves against his Princess, Flash would’ve felt sympathy for the imprisoned stallion; perhaps he would have even visited him in prison, offered him words that few other ears he trusted to hear.

Yet, along with his dreams, all the “ifs” were things of fantasy; the reality was as cold and unforgiving as Ironhoof’s chilling stare.

“Yes, sir.” Then, after a slight pause, Flash added, “I hope justice is served, sir.”

Another grin spread across Ironhoof’s muzzle, although this one was far less haunting. “I know it will be. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna will make sure of that.

“You are dismissed, Flash,” Ironhoof said, opening the door with a quick flick of his horn.

Bowing as he trotted backwards, slow and sure towards the door, Flash felt his heart begin to race again. Each and every step aggravated its tempo, until he was outside Captain Ironhoof’s office once more. The door slammed shut before him, leaving him to the silence of the empty corridors.

He didn’t fire me. Flash’s heart was now beating so fast he was afraid it might skip and seize in his chest. He spun around and looked through the maze of corridors, hearing his hoof-steps echo off the walls as he settled himself. I’m still here. I’m still…

He looked over himself, raising his hooves to determine that they were, indeed, his. I’m still here.

As he trudged back towards his room, Flash Sentry felt like he had gotten away with murder. He was sure that murderers felt more grateful than this, that no stones of nausea settled into their stomachs upon freedom.

Blessings And Curses

The door to his room wasn’t locked. When Flash Sentry opened it, Greyhoof was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hindhooves dangling above the floor like those of a young colt. Flash couldn’t help but grin.

Greyhoof looked up, a wistful smile on his grizzled muzzle. “Well, sire?”

Trotting over to the closet, Flash removed his helmet and placed it back over its stand within the wardrobe. “A well is a hole in the ground, Greyhoof.”

Greyhoof chuckled. “Well, Sir Flash Sentry, for you to have responded so cheekily, I should expect that things went… alright, yes?”

Flash turned around and began removing his armor, starting with the shoulder-guards. “You could say that, Greyhoof.”

Carefully getting down from the bed, groaning as his old joints protested against his weight, Greyhoof replied, “I could, Flash. But I’ll be honest. You’re far more cheerful than I’d expected, so please forgive my curiosity.”

Hanging up his shoulder-guards, Flash moved onto his chestplate. “Well, the Captain was far from happy with me. He didn’t exactly hold anything back.”

Greyhoof joined Flash, despite his old bones’ protests. “I see. Here,” he said, putting a forehoof on his chestplate, “let me get that for you, sire.”

“No, it’s alright, Greyhoof. I’ve got it,” Flash assured. I might have let you help me earlier when I thought this was going to be the last time I’d see you, but now that that isn’t the case, I won’t be having you strain yourself.

Greyhoof sat down on his haunches, sighing. “And independent as ever. So I assume he did not strip you of your rank?”

Grunting as he pulled off his chestplate, Flash shook his head. “No. He did not demote me, suspend me, or fire me. Nor did he send me to the gallows, though he probably wanted to.”

Greyhoof tapped his chin. “Hmm… Flash, do you believe in curses?”

Flash did a double-take. “Curses?”

“Yes, sire. Curses. Jinxes, omens, broken mirrors, that sort of thing.”

“From what I know about magic, curses aren’t real,” Flash said as he removed his noble-blue saddle blanket and began to fold it. “At least, that’s what I was taught.”

While both stallions would never know the gift of unicorn magic, part of the compulsory Equestrian education in civics was an examination of the strengths of each race. Although unicorns were powerful—even those who were not of the noble class were gifted in some form of magic, usually artistically—there were some limitations to their magic. Flash Sentry may not have been the brightest pupil, but he had absorbed the lessons on tribal differences and history quite well.

“Ah. Forgive me. It has been far too long since this old stallion has set hoof inside a classroom,” Greyhoof said with a slight laugh. “But the reason I ask is that, while I don’t want to jinx anything, dear boy, I am perplexed as to why you’ve been on the receiving end of mercy from…” He shuddered. “Ironhoof.”

Turning around, Flash sighed and glanced at his hooves a moment before looking up. “I don’t really understand why, but… Princess Celestia told Captain Ironhoof to.” He paused, glancing away in shame.

“The Princess did that?” Greyhoof asked, sounding incredulous.

Flash nodded, glancing past his window. The sun blazed brilliantly in the skyline, casting radiant, life-giving light to all those below. It was a beautiful day. It would have been a great one to have been his last.

The gentle placement of a forehoof on his shoulder prompted Flash Sentry to look back over. Greyhoof patted his shoulder and smiled, a bit of wonder shining in his old, tired eyes. “You should go and thank her, Flash.”

“I will,” he assured, giving him a nod. Greyhoof patted his shoulder again in reply, then withdrew his forehoof. Flash grinned and resumed removing his armor, piece by piece, then hung it in the closet.

Making no motion to halt the stubborn stallion, Greyhoof rested on his haunches again, his joints audibly protesting beneath his suit. Flash heard this, but said nothing. A thin blanket of silence settled between them again, as warm and welcome as the sunshine.

Then, another question drew Flash into a pause. “So… Sir Flash Sentry, if you haven’t been suspended, why are you removing your armor? If I may ask, of course.”

You may always ask, Greyhoof. It’s nice to have somepony who would want to ask.

Flash turned around again, leaning against a wall as he removed one of the iron horseshoes. Between grunts of effort, he said, “Ironhoof—nggh—wanted me to—urgh—take the day off. Says it’s ‘good for me.’” Flash scowled as he put one horseshoe back, then set to work on the other.

“Good for you?” Greyhoof raised an eyebrow. “Who shall guard our beautiful Princesses then?”

Flash chuckled and shook his head, a hint of a blush gracing his cheeks. “Greyhoof, please. You’re flattering me. Everypony shall be fine.”

Standing up, Greyhoof replied with a hint of indignation, “Sire, I may be a lot of things, but I am no liar.”

Flash paused, raising an eyebrow of his own.

“I mean what I say, Sir Flash Sentry. You are a damn fine guard.”

The last horseshoe almost clattered to the floor. Greyhoof never swore.

“Here, let me get that for you, sire,” the servant insisted, leaning down to pick up the fallen shoe. Before Flash Sentry could object, Greyhoof scooped it up and put it back inside the wardrobe. “There we are.”

“Greyhoof,” Flash said, a bit of fluster in his voice, “everything will be fine. I am just one guard, you know. And besides… Princess Twilight is taking the day off as well.”

“Well, things are certainly not fine,” Greyhoof said with a huff as he headed back towards the door, “but my voice has no weight anyway. Though…” He glanced over his shoulder, confusion on his muzzle. “I am surprised both yourself and the Princess are free of duty today, sire. Coincidence?”

Flash shrugged. “Greyhoof, after yesterday, I would be more surprised if she didn’t take a rest.”

“A rest. Is that what they call it nowadays?” Greyhoof smirked.

This time, Flash was not so quick to grab the reins on his rebellious wings. They unfurled themselves and began to extend, much to his humiliation. A furnace of crimson sprouted across his cheeks, mingling with the tangerine and creating a blaze of its own. “Greyhoof!”

Laughing into a forehoof, Greyhoof mused, “Forgive me, sire. I must say…” Taking a breath to calm himself, he continued more seriously, “I am very surprised and grateful to see that I will still have the honor of being your servant. Please forgive my wantonness, sire.” He bowed.

Forcing his wings down to his sides, Flash trotted over and placed a forehoof on Greyhoof’s shoulder this time. “No, it’s alright, Greyhoof. Sorry. And,” he said, wincing as he looked away, “I’m sorry for how I acted this morning.”

Greyhoof smiled and gently pushed his forehoof away. “Think nothing of it, Flash. There is nothing to be forgiven.”

Flash just smiled back, grateful in more ways than one.

“So…” With another playful smirk, Greyhoof asked, “How will Sir Flash Sentry be spending his day off?”

“I’m not sure,” Flash admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a forehoof. “Honestly, I was just planning on going back to bed.”

Greyhoof’s smile fell. “Ah. Well… The day is yours to use or waste, sire. Though,” he began as he rose up, “if I were you, dear boy, I would not waste such fortune.”

“And what would you do?” Flash challenged.

Greyhoof laughed heartily, smacking his belly with a forehoof. “Sire, one of these days, when the skies are a bit brighter, I shall tell you of my colthood days. Then maybe you’ll have an idea of what I would do in your hooves.”

Joining him in laughter, Flash Sentry could only shake his head at the absurdity of it all. Less than an hour ago, he was convinced that he was marching to his fate, ready to have the last five years of his life thrown away with some choice words from Captain Ironhoof.

Now, here he was: reprimanded but still standing, an entire day of possibility before him. Somehow, as he laughed near the door with Greyhoof, the moment seemed more than just a moment—heavy with possibility, opportunity, and meaning.

For the first time in a long time, Flash Sentry felt at peace, and stronger than the armor he’d tucked away.

~

“Celestia, are you sure?”

Princess Twilight sat on one of the large velvet pillows strewn about the floor of Princess Celestia’s private quarters. She chose one near the fireplace, letting the flickering flames warm a chill in her bones that no thermometer could measure.

Princess Celestia, who was relaxing on a similar (albeit larger) pillow near her favorite former student, nodded. A warm smile graced her muzzle, though there was a hint of stern finality behind it. “Yes, Twilight. Luna has agreed to take care of the first half of your Royal Court, and I will fill in for the latter. Please just try and relax today.”

“And I’m very grateful,” Twilight said, illuminating her horn as she brought a cup of piping tea towards her, “but I don’t want you to worry. I know yesterday was… a rare occurrence,” she added, flinching a little bit on yesterday. “I know that something like that probably won’t happen again.”

Celestia furrowed her brow. “No, Twilight. It will not.”

Twilight sipped at her tea. “Celestia… what shall we do with him?”

Celestia sighed and levitated a cup of her own tea towards her. “Per our laws, we must charge him officially before the Royal Court within forty-eight hours. After that, it can take anywhere from one week to several to schedule an appropriate hearing and trial, in which you, Luna, and I shall hear testimony from the accused—”

Twilight put down her teacup, frowning. “No… forgive me. I was not meaning—”

“Forgive me, Twilight,” Celestia said, sighing. She, too, put down her drink. “I did not mean to patronize you. Of course you are well-versed in Equestrian law.”

“No, it’s alright.” Twilight shifted her weight on the pillow, tension springing through her shoulders. “I mean… It has been ages since somepony has done something like this, hasn’t it?”

Celestia nodded. “Indeed, Twilight. It has.”

Sighing, Celestia rose to her hooves and strode towards the balcony's open window. Twilight joined her afterwards. The two alicorns were silent for a few moments, looking down from Canterlot Castle on high towards the capital city below and Mount Canterlot in the distance.

Celestia draped a wing over Twilight’s shoulder. “What happened yesterday has troubled me greatly. The pure rage in Orion’s voice that you told me about… the way he so quickly sprung against you and the Royal Guard…” She shook her head.

Twilight leaned into her wing and nodded, relishing the comforting warmth of her mentor. “I know. I just… It troubles me, too,” she said quietly, a shudder passing down her spine.

Celestia leaned in closer to Twilight. She opened her mouth to reply when a loud knock at the door cut her thoughts short. Withdrawing her wing, she looked down at Twilight, who nodded.

“A moment, please,” Princess Celestia called out, pivoting on her hooves and trotting towards the door. When she was a few feet away, she sparked her horn and unlocked the great, heavy door, then opened it.

In the threshold was Night Watch, one of her personal guards. “Your Highness,” the unicorn stallion said with a low, gracious bow, “there is somepony who would like to speak to you.”

“Oh?” Celestia released her magical grip, allowing the doors to stay open. “I am not expecting any visitors, Night Watch. Who is it?”

“It is Sir Flash Sentry,” Night Watch said.

At the mention of his name, Twilight looked away from the window and folded her wings against her sides.

“I see. Where is he?” Princess Celestia asked.

Night Watch looked up at his Princess. “He is in the hallway, Your Highness. Shall I send him away?”

“No, I shall speak to him.” Glancing over her shoulder, Celestia said to the smaller alicorn, “I will be back in a few minutes, Twilight.”

Twilight nodded, unfurling and folding her wings back as she looked back to the horizon.

Night Watch stepped aside and bowed his head as Princess Celestia passed him, closing the doors with her magic. “Please stand by until I return, Night Watch,” she said, setting her hooves towards the corridors.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Night Watch said, rising to observe the corridor once his Princess’s hoof-steps died down to a steady silence in the distance.

Down the corridor to her personal chambers were a series of spiraling, twisting hallways. Each one led either to the private quarters of one of the four Princesses or Prince Blueblood. In the middle of this was a sort of epicenter, where various Royal Guards patrolled, halting anypony who tried to follow any of the pathways.

In this epicenter, Flash Sentry waited, naked of his armor but looking rather professional still. Princess Celestia acknowledged him with a smile as she approached. Seeing this, Flash Sentry bowed deeply, lowering his body to the floor.

“Your Highness,” Flash said, gluing his eyes to the red carpet.

“Flash Sentry. Welcome,” Princess Celestia said.

From the peripherals of his pupils, he saw her flick her mane. He rose accordingly. “Thank you, Princess.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, standing tall before him. She smiled warmly down at her Royal Guard, choosing not to inquire about his lack of armor. It would be a mere tongue exercise, nothing more. And though she knew what he would reply, she asked, “To what do I owe this visit, Flash Sentry?”

“I…” Flash swallowed, cursing the tightness in his throat. I want to thank you for... saving my job? For not sending me to the dungeons? I want you to thank you for… for letting me do what I did…

Because… you must… you must know…

Cursing himself, Flash cleared his throat and coughed into a forehoof, buying himself precious seconds beneath the steely gaze of the Princess. “I… I just wanted to say… thank you, Your Highness.”

Despite his slight stammer, he was far more eloquent than he would have been in the presence of another alicorn. For that, he was more than grateful, silently thanking all the lucky stars in his bare sky.

Princess Celestia smiled warmly. “You are welcome, Flash. You are an excellent Royal Guard, and it would hurt to see you leave.”

At this, several nearby Royal Guards clenched their teeth and clutched their spears a bit tighter, but Flash paid them no mind. Praise was a bitter poison at worst, a numbing salve at best.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Flash said, bowing again.

Princess Celestia chuckled. “You’re welcome, Flash. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Shaking his muzzle as he rose, Flash replied, “No, but thank you, Princess.”

“You’re welcome.” As she turned around, Princess Celestia added with a wink, “Enjoy your day off, Flash Sentry.”

“Thank you, Princess,” Flash said, bowing low again. If it weren’t for you, I’d have all the days off in Equestria to enjoy.

I’m not sure yet if that is a blessing or a curse.

Flash Sentry waited until her hoof-steps became mere, distant echoes in the tangled mess of corridors. Then, and only then, he rose to his hooves, dodging the suspicious gazes of his fellow Royal Guards. Without a word, he turned towards the stairwells, lighter on his hooves due to the absence of his armor.

~

Princess Celestia was about halfway back to her chambers when she heard it. The unzipping of a zipper, though there was not one garment to be found here.

Spinning around, she groaned as a figure, draconic and equine both in twisted ways that defied the laws of Nature itself, clawed its way from the fabric of reality behind her.

Made of ten merry animals, and wearing a sly grin that could elicit a laugh from the most stone-faced Royal Guard, her visitor nonetheless failed to bring a smile to her muzzle.

“Discord,” she said flatly, a greeting only in appearance.

Discord’s eagle claw was the first to pop into existence behind the veil of the everything-nothing, followed by his lion paw, then his lithe body. His pair of pathetic wings pulled through the void, then his dragon claw and Buffalo hoof. Once his tail poked through while he stepped into the corridor, Princess Celestia contemplated leaving the hallway at once.

Despite her brewing hatred for the demon who appeared before her, Princess Celestia had manners. “Discord,” she said again when his terrible visage exited from that side of reality to this one.

“Ah, Celestia,” Discord said with a bow, zipping the fabric of reality shut. “It is so good to see you again.” He rose up to meet her gaze, his toothy grin spread firmly across his face.

“In the middle of the hallway, Discord?” Celestia huffed. He was most oft taken to appearing randomly in her personal chambers, when not even Twilight or Night Watch gave her company. Those times were the worst.

While she was clever at hiding her contempt for him in the presence of others—especially Twilight and the other Elements of Harmony—alone, Princess Celestia refused to wear her mask for him. If they weren’t in the middle of the corridor now, where Twilight, Night Watch, or another Royal Guard could find her, she wouldn’t have said anything more than his name.

Discord, seemingly oblivious to this, snapped a set of his claws. In an instant, a bouquet of roses appeared in his outstretched lion’s paw. “Somepony looks like they could use some cheering up,” he said with a grin, holding out the flowers to her.

Ignoring them, Celestia merely picked up her hooves.

“Oh, going to be that way, are we?” Discord sighed and snapped his claws again. The roses disappeared, replaced by a bottle of Apple Family whiskey. “Perhaps you need even more of a pick-me-up?”

Celestia said nothing and kept walking, although her steps were slow.

“Come now,” Discord offered, hovering through the air, “this is the best in all of Equestria. The only thing that could’ve made my thousand-year stone nap bearable was this whiskey. Try it.” He floated alongside her, keeping pace with the Princess.

She continued to ignore him.

“Really?” Discord rolled his eyes and face-clawed. In another instant of bright light and brief smoke, the bottle of Applejack Daniel’s was gone.

Discord now wore a cap with two cans of soda strapped to it, complete with a set of drinking straws leading to his muzzle. “Well, fine. If you won’t have a drink, then I will.” He sipped his straws loudly and happily, leaning in close so she could hear.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” Celestia snapped, stopping in her tracks at last.

Discord nudged her in the ribs and winked. “One of these cans has whiskey in it.”

Groaning, Celestia shook her head, her long, flowing mane falling to her shoulders. “Please, Discord. I am not in the mood for your games today.”

“Oh, Celly, do you have to always be so seeeeeerious?” Discord whined. Pouting, the draconequus snapped his claws a fourth time, sending the soda-whiskey-hat back into the realms of the everything-nothing from whence he came.

Turning the corner towards her personal chambers, Celestia said, “I have to be when somepony threatened Twilight’s life just yesterday, taking up hooves against the order.”

“The order?” Discord groaned and rolled his eyes. He rolled his body along with it, twisting and curling his tail and limbs against himself as he made a circle in the air. “Order, order, order. You’re always so boring, dear Celly. Perhaps you’d do better with a bit of chaos?”

She stopped again, shooting daggers at him over her shoulder. “Go away.”

Straightening himself back out, Discord laughed and feigned a yawn. “Maybe I should. You aren’t even faking it today. Forgot to put on your brave face, eh, Celly?”

Celestia bit her lip, a wave of anger washing over her. She stomped at the floor with a forehoof, rounding entirely on him. “I don’t have time for this today, Discord!”

Discord chuckled and snapped his claws. When the smoke cleared, a large clock hung around his neck, its hands made up of a lion’s paw and eagle’s claw. “Well, I have plenty of time here for you, Celestia. Why, it’s not even eight! Plenty of time to grab some breakfast or coffee and wipe that grumpy frown off your face,” he said, a sharp edge in his voice as he glared at her.

Sneering at him, Princess Celestia spun back around and took to her hooves again. Discord hated Night Watch (and vice versa) and, as such, would surely whisk himself back into the background once the stallion came into view. Deciding not to grace him any longer with the benefit of her voice, Celestia stayed silent as she kept walking.

Sighing overdramatically, Discord shook his head. “You really don’t see it yet, do you?”

“See what?” Celestia asked, continuing on. Night Watch was coming into view.

Discord snickered. “Your little visitor back there.”

Celestia slowed her steps. “What do you mean?”

“Your Highness?” Night Watch called as she came into his field of vision, bowing.

“Gotta go,” Discord said coolly, bringing his paw up to his forehead in a mock-salute. He stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry at Night Watch, who grimaced in response.

In a flash of smoke, Discord wound his way back into the void, leaving Princess Celestia and Night Watch behind in their mundane reality.

Celestia trotted up to her guard. “Thank you, Night Watch. You spoke up just in time.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Night Watch said as he rose. “I’m not… very fond of him, Your Highness.”

“Neither am I,” Celestia said as she began to open the doors with her magic.

Somewhere, behind the veil of the gap between dimensions, Discord twisted his face into a frown, crossing his arms as he sighed. Collapsing his telescope back into his pocket, he said, “It wasn’t always this way, Celly. You weren’t always this cold.”

Friends In Low Places

Flash Sentry sought to return to the sanctity of his room as soon as possible. He didn’t want to take any more chances. Nodding in acknowledgment as he passed by several Royal Guards, he let his mind wander.

It’s not like I can tell Ironhoof that I want to be assigned to something other than guarding Royal Court, especially when Princess Celestia herself insists upon it. Then again, I have been stationed at Royal Court quite frequently. Perhaps there’s some way I can get Ironhoof to reconsider?

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Flash turned down another hallway and made a beeline towards his room. While he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular, another voice within his mind shot back, If you really didn’t want to be posted there, you would do something egregious to get yourself reassigned, now, wouldn’t you? But you won’t, the voice accused, because a part of you is still foalish enough to bel—

“Flash! There you are!”

Snapping back into reality, Flash shook his head. His hooves came to a sudden halt. “Huh? Wha—”

Steel Wind and Sharp Spear approached him with eager grins on their muzzles. Both were clad in their golden armor, helmet and all, indistinguishable from each other.

Flash clicked his tongue and said with a bit of a huff, “Steel! What the hay was that for?”

“Was what for?” Steel asked, trotting up to him.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Heart attack?” Sharp Spear whooped and smacked his belly. “You hear that, Steel Wind? You almost gave our friend a scare here with your whiny little whinny of a voice!”

With a glare, Steel Wind threw up his forehooves and snapped back, “At least I could guard a damn tea party without screwing up!”

“Um…” Shifting on his hooves, Flash asked, “What about a tea party?”

Steel Wind turned back to Flash. “You remember that tea party in Ponyville with Princess Cadence? The one that took place the day before yesterday?” At Flash’s nod, he continued, “Oh, well, you see, this genius over here managed to even buck that up, just like I said he would!”

Sharp Spear groaned and face-hoofed. “It wasn’t that big of a deal!”

“You were outsmarted by a bunny rabbit!” Steel countered.

“Hey!” Spear pointed a forehoof at his companion. “That was no ordinary bunny rabbit! That was a beast from the depths of Tartarus itself!”

His patience growing thin, Flash stomped his forehooves on the floor, jerking them both to attention. “Ugh! Can you two go bicker somewhere else?”

Covering his muzzle as he coughed, Sharp Spear looked away and muttered, “Sorry, Flash.”

“Sorry,” Steel Wind added, lowering his gaze and his wings.

Seeing the hurt in Steel’s eyes, Flash sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, you two. I’m just a bit… stressed, that’s all.”

“Stressed?” Steel raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“Yeah! We heard that you got the day off! Lucky bastard…” Spear shook his head and muttered that last bit under his breath, although Flash heard him anyway.

Ignoring this, Flash started towards his room again. “Yeah, I did.” While the two stallions followed him, he added with an insistent tone, “And I was thinking about spending it alone.”

“Alone?” The two exchanged puzzled glances. “Did you even have breakfast yet?” Steel asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Flash deflected. Turning another corner, he quickened his pace a bit. His room was coming into view at the end of the hall; he could practically taste his freedom, and it tasted like a nice, long nap and maybe a book to read. Maybe a bite or two from the Great Hall if he bothered enough.

“You sure there isn’t something wrong?” Catching up to him, Spear poked Flash’s shoulder. “C’mon, buddy. You’ve been acting a bit strange for the past couple months.”

Steel nodded, joining his counterpart on Flash’s other side. “Yeah, ever since—”

“Ah, there you are, sire.”

Greyhoof’s merry greeting cut Steel Wind’s speculation short, to Flash’s delight. The servant was standing beside his master’s door with a slight grin on his muzzle. “I was beginning to get a little worried, sire.”

“No need to worry, Greyhoof.” A smile spread across Flash’s stern muzzle. “Everything is fine.”

Steel and Spear exchanged confused glances once more. Both shrugged.

Before either could inquire further, Greyhoof spoke up again. “Good to hear, sire. Breakfast is waiting for you on your nightstand. Don’t worry—I got the oats for you just the way you like them,” he added with a wink and chuckle.

Flash managed to laugh with him. “Thanks, Greyhoof. I think I’ll be alright until dinner, but I’ll get that myself.”

“As you wish, sire.” Greyhoof bowed to Flash again, then looked up at the two stallions beside the door as he rose.

“Uh, hey, um, Greyhoof,” Steel said, plastering a grin.

Spear coughed as a fake smile of his own appeared. “Um, yeah. Hey there, buddy.”

Holding his snout in the air, Greyhoof cleared his throat. “Hello, Sir Steel Wind. Sir Sharp Spear. Please, excuse me, sirs.”

With that, Greyhoof slowly took to his hooves, snaking in between the stallions and making his way down the hall.

Steel nudged Sharp in the ribs and twirled a forehoof in a circle near his head, then crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. A burst of laughter followed.

His forehoof still on the doorknob, Flash Sentry silenced them with a sharp, steely glare.

“Sorry, Flash,” the two said in unison, lowering their eyes.

“Be nice to him,” Flash spat, trotting into his room. “Just because you two don’t treat your servants nicely, doesn’t give you the right to treat mine the same way.” And he’s more of a friend than you two, anyway.

Accustomed to hearing this little lecture, both Steel Wind and Sharp Spear nodded stiffly, saying nothing as they followed Flash Sentry into his room. Steel whistled. “Dang. Must be nice having a room of your own, eh, Flash?”

“Anything would be better than having to share a cramped little crevice with you,” Sharp jabbed, grinning.

Steel blew a raspberry back at him.

Sitting down on the bed, Flash lifted the breakfast tray onto his lap. Hot oats with cinnamon and sugar along with a glass of orange juice awaited him. For a moment, he ignored the arguing stallions and sighed contentedly. Greyhoof wasn’t kidding. This is perfect.

The clash of jabbing hooves and bitter words pulled Flash from his sweet oats. “And that’s what you said the last time you left the—”

Flash growled, narrowing his eyes as he looked up to his quarreling friends. “C’mon, guys! Don’t you have something better to do? I’d like to eat my breakfast in peace, you know,” he said pointedly, picking up his spoon.

Sheepishly, the stallions ceased their argument and stood calmly before him, folding their flared wings and shuffling their hooves. “Right, sorry,” Steel said. “Anyway, we actually had something for you.” Sharp nodded in agreement.

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, Flash took a bite of his cereal and nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

“Well…” Steel Wind took a seat beside Flash Sentry on the bed and crossed his forehooves over his lap. Sharp Spear joined them, sitting next to Steel.

Flash wiped his mouth with a fetlock. “A well is—”

Steel lifted a forehoof. “Yeah, yeah, that old joke. Give me a second.”

Sharp tilted his head as he looked over at Flash’s closet. “Hey, Flash…”

Flash chewed another spoonful. “Yes?”

“Is that your spear?”

Oh, dammit.

Close to having an (actual) heart attack—or, at the very least, an aggressive panic attack—at not only dealing with Captain Ironhoof, but Princess Celestia this morning, Flash Sentry had completely forgotten about the broken spear in his distress.

Now that the storm appeared to have passed, at least for now, he realized that yet another reprimand awaited him if Captain Ironhoof knew that he had destroyed his weapon. The tussle with Orion couldn’t justify the shattered steel—Ironhoof had seen him after Royal Court with it intact.

Swallowing his bite of oats particularly hard, Flash Sentry put the tray aside on his nightstand and began to sweat. Buying himself a little more time while he chewed the mouthful thoroughly, Flash began to mentally roll through a litany of excuses.

I saw a Changeling and threw the spear at it? No, that’s stupid! Ironhoof and everypony else would’ve known about that. I thought I saw a ghost? No… ghosts don’t exist! I had a nightmare? Still wouldn’t explain how I managed to break the damn thing.

“Dear Celestia… That is your spear!” Jumping to his hooves, Steel Wind spun around, his eyes darting hopelessly from the halved spear, to the silent stallion, and back again. “How the buck did that happen, Flash?”

“Er, well…” Flash rubbed a forehoof against his chest and coughed. “Um, well, I saw, you see, uh—”

“Wait. Wait, waitwaitwait.” Sharp Spear walked over, picked up the broken halves of the spear, and inspected them. “It’s… broken. Completely broken. You broke a steel spear!”

Now it was Flash’s turn to step down, bracing his hooves against the floor to counteract his nervousness. “Guys, I—”

Steel Wind circled around the broken weapon. “I’ve never seen a broken spear before! Well, minus after the incident with the Princesses getting kidnapped by those tentacle-things…” He shuddered. “Lieutenant Shooting Star wasn’t very happy after Ironhoof blamed him for it, and he just kinda—”

“Threw it,” Spear finished, hovering down to examine the chip in the wardrobe and the wall of the closet.

A thick silence passed over them as both stallions turned to Flash Sentry, whose mane was beginning to mat with sweat, whose eyes found every nook and cranny of his room, whose heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest yet again.

The Universe seemed pretty determined to keel him over today, one way or another.

Finally, Flash sputtered out the weakest excuse he could muster—no excuse at all. “I… I don’t really know what happened, but… but it’s broken.”

“Don’t know what… happened?” Coming down to his hooves, Sharp Spear tilted his head far enough to almost rest on his shoulder.

Flash shook his head. “No.” Biting his lip, he repeated his refrain. “I don’t know what happened.”

Shrugging as he looked at Spear, who threw up his forehooves in uncertainty, Steel Wind brought a forehoof to his muzzle and groaned. “Alright. It looks like you needed this a lot more than we thought. Right, Spear?”

“Right, Steel,” Spear said, joining his friend’s side. “But first, let’s head down to the armory and get you a replacement spear! Before Ironhoof sees,” he added, lowering his voice down to a whisper and darting his eyes around the room.

Holding up both forehooves, Flash tilted his head as he objected, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s this that I need?” Please, for the love of all things holy, don’t tell me that you two tried to set me up with somepony… again.

“Show him, Spear.”

“You got it, Steel.”

A sly, toothy grin on his muzzle, Sharp Spear reached under his helmet and withdrew a piece of paper. Unfolding it, he held it out for Flash Sentry to see.

Squinting, Flash read aloud, “’Thermals. New pegasi nightclub, Canterlot. Other races welcome. Doors open at seven P.M. First two drinks free.’”

Flash held his forehooves up again. “Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “No, guys. I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to invite somepony else.” To be your third wheel, he thought, a bit of a teasing smirk curling across his muzzle.

“Aww, c’mon, Flash!” Spear whined, folding the flyer back up and tucking it beneath his helmet. “It’s been months since we’ve gone out and done something fun, just the three of us! Every time you go on leave or it’s the weekend, you either hole yourself up in your room or go flying! You need to get out and meet some ponies for a change!”

“Yeah!” Steel added, “It’s obvious something’s bugging you, buddy. Now, I’m not really sure how you broke this thing—”

Spear nodded. “Neither am I—”

“—But if you’re not going to tell us what happened or what’s bugging you, the least you could do is just go out and relax. Free drinks, Flash!” Rolling his eyes, Steel crossed his forehooves and shook his head. “If you refuse free drinks, there’s gotta be something wrong with you!”

Flash began to object, then bit his lip. Closing his eyes for a moment, he fell back inside his thoughts. I can’t keep this going forever. He steadied his hooves against the floorboard, forcing a wave of resolve to flow through him. I can’t mope around for much longer without somepony really taking notice.

Besides, I… I did it already, and I’m still here, and I’m still going to be here. Five years in the Royal Guard, and I still won’t be retiring for a long, long time. I have to keep going.

I have to get over this.

When he looked up, Steel Wind was waving a forehoof in the air, saying, “And there’s going to be music, and tons of pegasi from out of town, and probably even some hot mares, hot mares, Flash, and—”

“Alright, I’ll go.”

Steel Wind blinked, his jaw falling agape mid-sentence. He rounded on Flash. So did Sharp Spear, who was knocking a forehoof against his skull, near one of his ears. “Wh-what?!”

“I said, I’ll go,” Stepping in between his friends, Flash added, “You’re right. It has been a long while, and…” He swallowed. “And it’ll be good to get out of Canterlot Castle for a bit.”

In unison, both stallions high-hoofed each other and threw a forehoof around Flash’s shoulders, cackling in triumph. Painting the best smile he could conjure across his muzzle, Flash threw his forehooves around Steel Wind and Sharp Spear in return, forcing himself to join in the laughter.

When their laughter began to dissolve into gasping breaths, Steel Wind said as he shook Flash playfully, “Then it’s settled! We get you a new spear, you join us tonight at Thermals, and nopony’s the wiser! Sounds like a perfect plan to me!”

“You said it, Steel!” Sharp chimed in, staggering as he laughed.

Flash rubbed his nape. “Yeah. Perfect plan, heh, heh.”

If he had been a worse actor, Flash Sentry’s smile would’ve shattered like his spear. Nopony’s the wiser.

Let’s hope so.

~

After an uneventful day of Royal Court, Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Princess Twilight gathered in the Royal Dining Hall for supper. Similar to the Great Hall, the Royal Dining Hall teemed with servants, butlers and hoof-maidens alike. Several Royal Guards, both pegasi and unicorns, guarded the exterior and interior of the room.

Unlike the Great Hall, the Royal Dining Hall offered only one table, which was long enough to accommodate up to thirty diners total. The Royals used this room when diplomatic dinners were held, usually with ambassadors from the Griffon, Zebra, or Saddle Arabian kingdoms.

Tonight, only the three Princesses occupied seats at the head of the table. Prince Blueblood, as he was oft to do, was having his supper in his personal chambers.

“Thank you,” Twilight said to a butler, who was refilling her glass of wine. She sparked her horn and sipped at her drink, looking over to the other two alicorns, who were doing the same with theirs.

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” the butler replied, bowing. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Er, no. That’s alright.”

The butler smiled, then trotted off.

“How was your day off, Twilight?” Celestia asked, buttering a piece of bread with her magic.

“It was good!” Setting her wineglass down, Twilight perked up as she turned to her. “I spent some time in the Royal Canterlot Archives, reading some of Starswirl’s old spellbooks.”

“Oh?” Her interest piqued, Celestia smiled as she chewed. “Trying to learn anything in particular?”

Twilight shrugged. “Not necessarily. I am a bit curious as to how things were back in his days, though. Magic-wise,” she quickly added.

Princess Luna set down her forkful of salad and turned to Twilight. “Starswirl was a good friend of mine, along with being the most powerful sorcerer of his time. He was the mentor of Clover the Clever, you know.”

Twilight nodded. “Yes. Although… I haven’t found much about her in the Archives yet.”

“I’m sure you will find more if you keep searching, Twilight.” Grabbing another piece of bread, Celestia asked, “Is there anything in particular you would like to know about her? Clover was close to Luna and I, as was Princess Platinum.”

Before Twilight could answer, a hoof-maiden trotted up to the table with a pepper mill in her hooves. “Fresh pepper for your salad, Your Highness?”

“Oh. Um… sure,” Twilight said, nodding dumbly. She waited for the mare to season her salad, bow, and then rise at her cue before adding, “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness. Would Your Majesties like some as well?” the servant asked.

Both Luna and Celestia waved her off with a forehoof. “No, that’s quite alright, Thyme,” Celestia said with a smile.

Once Thyme had trotted away, Twilight looked over to Celestia again. “Nothing in particular, to be honest. I’m just… curious about them, is all.”

“Unfortunately, many of their writings have been lost,” Luna said, frowning. “There are few, if any, surviving texts from Equestria’s founders in the Archives, Twilight.”

“Hmm. That’s strange. Why is that?” Twilight asked, glancing at Celestia, who was busying herself with a third piece of bread.

Setting the knife and bread down, Celestia leaned her forehooves on the table. “Well… you see—”

Trailing off, Princess Celestia was interrupted by a deep, throaty laugh. The three alicorns turned to see a familiar face materialize at the hoof of the table.

“Oh, suppertime already? And you didn’t invite me?”

When they heard the laughter, all three Royal Guards patrolling the room jumped to attention, magic and hooves tight on their spears. The servants spun around as well, more startled than afraid. When Discord revealed his toothy grin, the vigilant guards groaned and put their spears down, shaking their heads. The servants shook their heads as well, quickly returning to their duties.

“Discord!” Twilight shook her head. “You’re going to scare somepony doing that one of these days. Badly!”

“Oh, come now, Twilight. Don’t be such a spoilsport.” Discord hovered over, tying a white cloth around his neck. Crossing his hindlegs, he took a seat at the table near Princess Celestia and inspected the selection.

“Salad, soup, bread, and wine? What is this? Suppertime for ants?” Scowling, Discord snapped his claws. In an instant, a large cake appeared before him, three layers high and covered in chocolate. “Much better!” Discord licked his lips and grinned towards the Princesses.

Luna brought a hoof to her lips, stifling a giggle. Twilight rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but grin. Celestia adjusted her mask to hide the scorn in her eyes, twisting it into an acknowledging smile. Though the scent of the freshly baked cosmic cake tempted her nostrils, she didn’t bother to ask for a piece.

Noticing their silence, Discord grinned and shoved about half a layer of the cake into his mouth. “Now, now, mumf, ladies,” he mumbled around his full cheeks, “please, do, mmmf, carry on.”

Celestia focused back on Twilight after regaining her composure. “Unfortunately, Twilight, many of the letters, diaries, and other writings from Equestria’s founders have long been lost.” She paused, eying Discord from her peripherals as he shoved another enormous section of cake down his throat.

Twilight tapped her chin in thought. “And nopony has any idea where they could have gone?”

Luna answered, “No, Twilight. I am sorry to say that Tia is right.”

“I see.” Twilight lifted a forkful of her salad to her lips. “Well, I’m sure I will find many other intriguing things in Starswirl’s old writings. I’m sure there just wasn’t one spell he left unfinished.”

“Starswirl?” Wolfing down his last layer of cake, Discord looked up and licked chocolate from his talon. “You do know that, no matter how much you study his writings, there’s something you will never learn, right?”

“No, Discord. What’s that?” Twilight asked.

Up in the air, Discord snapped his claws again. A long, scraggly beard covered his chocolate-coated muzzle, the very end of it dragging on the arms of his chair below. “How to grow a fantastic beard!” he exclaimed, tugging at his whiskers.

“Oh, Discord,” Twilight muttered with a groan, face-hoofing. Beside her, Luna started to snigger.

Curling his tail up against his beard, Discord began making circles in the air with his serpentine body. In a high-pitched, mocking voice, he declared, “Ho ho! Look at me, kiddies! I’m your ol’ Uncle Starswirl!”

Tightening the grip on her mask, Celestia stabbed a forkful of greens and dressing, then chomped it down. Luna brought both forehooves to her muzzle. Twilight, her mind drifting to rows and rows of dusty scrolls in the Archives, occupied herself with some more bread and wine.

“I may be over a thousand years old, but I’ll take you whippersnappers! Everyday, anytime!” Discord rose up out of his circle and threw his forelimbs open, then grabbed the sides of his billowing beard. “How do you think I got this beard? Not by skipping chores and neglecting my homework! So, get off my lawn and make me a sandwich!”

Pounding a forehoof on the table, Luna burst into full-blown laughter. Though she did her best to ignore him, Twilight couldn’t help but snicker a bit, shaking her head while she finished her drink.

“That’s enough, Discord,” Celestia said, her muzzle stern. “We are trying to have a serious dinner conversation here.”

“Serious?” Rising up, Discord pulled his beard off and tossed it away, where it disappeared back into the void. “Fine, Celly. Let me just finish my cake, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“You’ve already finished your cake,” Celestia pointed out.

As he sat down, Discord admitted, “Maybe, but I haven’t finished my plate.” Casually, he picked up his plate in his lion paw and brought it to his mouth, crunching merrily on the ceramic.

Sighing, Princess Celestia pushed her plate away, full of more than just supper. “Twilight, Lulu, there is one matter I would like to discuss before I head back to my chambers for the evening.”

“And what is that, sister?” Luna asked, trying her best to hold back another steady stream of giggles at Discord’s antics. She turned around to find Celestia looking down the bridge of her snout at her, her gentle eyes slightly narrowed. Nodding, Luna straightened herself in her seat and glanced at Twilight.

Twilight set her fork down and looked again to the two sisters while Discord crunched away at his plate. “What is it, Celestia?”

“Tomorrow afternoon will mark forty-eight hours since Orion has been arrested,” Celestia explained, her focus solely on Luna and Twilight. “We will need to convene a special session of Royal Court to bring charges against him.” Draping a wing over her student’s shoulder, she asked, “Are you ready for this, Twilight?”

Although she had finished eating, Twilight swallowed. “Yes. I will be ready tomorrow at noon.”

Luna, too, curled a wing around her. “It will be alright, Twilight Sparkle. Tia and I will be there, along with Captain Ironhoof and several other guards. There is nothing to fear.”

Discord picked at his tooth with a shard of the plate, rolling his eyes.

“Thank you both.” Twilight smiled as she brushed her wings against theirs. “I know everything will be alright. I’m just… nervous, I guess.”

Discord blew a raspberry, shifting all attention back to him once more. “Nervous? Ha!” Swallowing the shard he had used as a toothpick, he rose back up into the air, flapping his tiny wings. “The Twilight Sparkle, one of the—” he retched—”Elements of Harmony, is afraid of one little hearing?”

Rising to her hooves, Celestia glared up at the draconequus, her ears flattened. “Discord!”

“What? What?” Resting his paw on his chest, Discord said, “I’m just pointing out that she has nothing to worry about, that’s all.”

Celestia narrowed her eyes, almost squinting at him.

“I know I don’t.” Twilight met Discord’s gaze. “Thank you, Discord, for reminding me that I shouldn’t worry.”

Discord tapped his chin. “Hmm… I’m not quite sure if you’ve mastered the art of sarcasm yet.”

“Discord,” Celestia said again, a hint of warning in her voice.

With a sigh, Discord contorted himself into a half-circle, then brought his claw and paw to his eyes. As easily as he would’ve picked a scab, he brought his eyes out from their sockets, then lifted them up in his grasp, forming a disturbing smile in the air. “You can do it, Twilight!” he cheered, using the same “Uncle Starswirl” voice.

Luna began to chortle, Twilight joining her, more out of bewilderment than amusement. Celestia fumed, hot anger starting to well beneath her mask.

A master of disguise himself, Discord saw beneath Celestia’s visage. Rather than uncurling himself or placing his eyes back in his skull, he merely winked at her.

Pushing her chair back in with her magic, Princess Celestia stepped away from the table, waiting until Twilight and Luna had calmed before she addressed them. “If everything is settled, I’ll be turning in for the night. Please excuse me, Luna, Twilight.”

“Oh!” Twilight walked over to her. “Of course, Celestia. I hope you sleep well. And,” she added, giving her a reassuring smile, “I’ll be ready for tomorrow.”

Celestia replied with a warm smile, “I know you will be, Twilight. And I will be right there with you.”

“And I as well,” Luna said, putting a forehoof on Twilight’s shoulder. She cast a curious glance towards her sister. “Turning in already, Tia?”

“It’s been a long day, Lulu.” Celestia returned the curious gaze with a furrow of her brow and a flare of her nostrils.

Luna nodded. “I see. Well then…” Removing her forehoof from Twilight’s shoulder, she smiled at Celestia. “Goodnight, my sister. I shall begin my night watch.”

Discord, who’d been pointedly ignored for the past several minutes, huffed and brought his talon and paw to his hips. “No goodnight for me?”

When nopony answered him, Discord sighed like a furnace, then clapped. In a blink of an eye, he disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived.

Twilight chuckled. “Looks like Discord got bored.”

“He’s always bored.” Celestia then gave one last smile to her sister, her student, and the help in the room. “Goodnight, everypony!”

“Goodnight, Your Highness!” all the guards and servants within the room called out, bowing.

Celestia exited the Royal Dining Hall, making haste towards her quarters.

Princess Luna gestured for one of the Royal Guards, Blazing Radiance, to come forth. “Blazing Radiance, I require your assistance in guarding the night.”

The white pegasus stallion trotted up to the night princess, his head bowed low. “Yes, Your Highness. I am ready, Princess.”

Twilight watched intensely. Though she’d seen this ritual several times before, it never ceased to astound her. She vaguely knew the magical workings behind it, but intended to study them further.

Once Blazing Radiance met her gaze, Princess Luna charged up her horn, enveloping the stallion in a shroud of purple magic. Radiance grunted out of slight discomfort, closing his eyes as the powerful magic began to course through him. Twilight backed away, shielding herself from the bright light. Luna kept her horn steady, completing the spell to its end.

When she finally released her magical grip on the guard, a completely new pony stood before Princess Luna.

Gray, a few inches taller, thicker in the barrel, and sporting a pair of leathery black wings, Radiance opened his eyes. His whites were now yellow, his pupils slits, and, when he smiled, a pair of fangs replaced the mediocre molars Nature had granted him.

Princess Luna nodded to her batpony guard. “Meet me on the highest tower, Radiance. I will join you shortly.”

Once Radiance had bowed, was acknowledged, and left the hall, Twilight turned to Luna, laughing. “No matter how many times I see that, Luna, it still amazes me.”

Luna nudged her in the side. “Someday, I’ll show you how I do it, Twilight.”

“I would love to learn!”

Luna chuckled. “Now, before I go…” Leaning in close so nopony would hear, Luna’s expression hardened to a frown. “Are you sure there is nothing bothering you about yesterday? I understand if you may not want to admit it to Tia, but you can tell me, Twilight. Things can stay between us.”

“Oh, well…” Twilight looked around the Royal Dining Hall. No draconequus held a claw up to his ear to hear them, nor did any of the servants or remaining guards seemed to be eavesdropping.

Nevertheless, Twilight shook her head. “Everything is fine, Luna.

“I’m positive.”

~

After obtaining a new spear from the armory and stashing it in his room, Flash gave the broken halves of the old weapon to Sharp Spear, who said he’d dispose of it properly. Both Spear and Steel swore that they wouldn’t speak a word of it to Ironhoof, and the guard who let them into the armory—a fresh-faced, first-year stallion—didn’t seem to have noticed.

Once that had been resolved, Flash took a long nap. Feeling refreshed afterwards, he proceeded to do some calisthenics and flying exercises for the day. Self-discipline and care of one’s body had been drilled into him by stern instructors during both flight camp and the Guard Academy. Even on his day off, he did his best to stay productive.

Outside, the sun was shining, bold and bright, not a cloud in the sky. Although it was only early spring, the Grand Galloping Gala looming on the horizon, there was no rain to be had today. Flash decided to take advantage of this and moved on to more advanced flying exercises above Canterlot Castle, burning as much time as he could.

When he flew, Flash Sentry was devoid of thought, of worry. With the thermals guiding him high above the castle’s tallest towers, the light breeze tickling his primaries, and the rush of wind through his mane, there were no dilemmas, and no potential consequences for them.

Even so, as the sun began to lower its position in the sky and dip towards the void, Flash Sentry knew he couldn’t fly away from his thoughts forever.

It had been almost three months since he’d truly left Canterlot Castle. He jumped at almost any opportunity for extra work on the weekends. He occasionally palled around with Sharp Spear or Steel Wind, or spent time with Greyhoof. Mostly, though, he read his books or drowned in his dreams, trying to cure himself of this thick, aching sickness of the heart and soul.

He knew he couldn’t do this forever.

When his wings began to tire, Flash landed on the soft, lush grass surrounding Canterlot Castle. Looking up at the impending sunset, he knew what he had to do.

Almost time. Better get ready, he thought with a sigh.

~

“So… where exactly are you going, sire?”

Running a brush through his mane, Flash Sentry turned from his reflection to Greyhoof. “Some new pegasi bar in Canterlot called Thermals. Steel and Spear want me to go.”

Greyhoof grimaced at the mention of those stallions. “I see. Well, do you want to go, sire?”

Flash shrugged. “Not really, but… It’s not like I have a choice.”

“How so?”

Putting the brush back in its place, Flash stretched a wing to preen. “Well, you see,” he began, pushing a feather into place with his teeth, “Steel and Spear have definitely noticed the change in me by now. I can’t exactly keep brushing them off. And besides… I… uh, kinda owe them a favor.”

Greyhoof walked over, a hitch in his step. He reached in the closet and grabbed Flash’s new spear, which required both of his forehooves to steady. “You mean this, sire?”

“Er, yeah.” Stretching his other wing, Flash explained, “They took me to the armory to get a new spear, and took the other one for disposal.”

“And you trust that they won’t tell the Captain?”

“I don’t see a reason for them to betray my trust, Greyhoof.” Satisfied with the state of his wings, Flash offered his friend a slight smile. “They may be morons at times, but they aren’t backstabbers. They have no reason to betray me or go to Ironhoof.”

Greyhoof bowed. “As you wish. Though,” he added, “I would caution you to be careful, Flash. After all… not everypony is as accepting of certain things, dear boy. Or as trustworthy.”

“I know.” But I’m going to have to gamble with this one. Not going to go too far, just… I can trust them to keep this little incident a secret. Probably not much else.

“Hmm.” Giving him a once-over, Greyhoof walked around Flash, his forehoof on his chin. “So… Are you really going to try to meet anypony, Sir Flash Sentry, or are you just going along for the ride?”

Flash raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, if you’re going to try to meet any mares tonight, I suggest wearing something better than that, sire,” Greyhoof said with a smirk. “Though, please forgive my tone.”

Flash dismissed him with a forehoof. “Don’t worry about it. But…” Lifting his hooves to check his horseshoes, shaking his mane to glance it over, and sweeping his eyes over his coat, he turned back to him with a skewed eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“What you’re wearing, sire.”

“I’m not wearing anything.”

“Precisely!” Brushing past him, Greyhoof leaned up on his hindhooves to search through the knight’s wardrobe. “Clothes make the stallion, sire. Or, at least… mares at seedy bars think so.”

Flash cringed. “Look, Greyhoof—”

“Ah, this should work.” Greyhoof turned around, a Royal Guard dress uniform—pressed, velvet, and blue with gold buttons—in his forehooves. “Please stand still, Flash, and I’ll help you into this.”

“N-no, that won’t be necessary,” Flash said, taking a step back.

“Oh?” Greyhoof continued to approach him. “Come now, Flash,” he said, his tone growing more stern, “if you want to do this, you’ll need to dress the part. Now, let me help you, please.”

Flash’s hindhooves reached the bed. “N-no, Greyhoof. I don’t want to.”

Greyhoof paused. “Don’t want to what?”

“I…” Shaking his head, Flash brought a forehoof up to his cheek and rubbed his face. “I don’t want to meet anypony, okay? I’m honestly not going for that reason. I just want to get those guys off my back, alright?”

Greyhoof sighed, lowering the clothes in his forehooves. “I thought so.” He turned back around and returned the uniform to the wardrobe while Flash absentmindedly brushed his mane—messed it, really—with a forehoof.

Once he’d finished, the servant returned to his master. “Flash, I’ll be honest. While I am not exactly… keen on your friends,” Greyhoof began, “I think it might be a good idea for you to get some fresh air. Cut loose. Have a drink or two.” A wry smile spread across his muzzle. “Maybe even dance with a pretty mare.”

Chuckling, Flash rubbed his neck. “Ah, well—”

“But, in spite of everything, I think you should be true to yourself, dear boy. You have more courage than you will admit, and there is nothing more tragic than when somepony brushes that courage aside and chooses to be something they’re not.”

In the silence that followed, Flash Sentry met Greyhoof’s eyes, and saw even more clearly the exhaustion in them.

Greyhoof remarked, “I think you look just fine tonight, Flash. Just like yourself.”

“Thank you, Greyhoof,” Flash said, smiling. “I appreciate it.”

“Did you get enough to eat at dinner?”

Flash nodded.

“Well then…” Grinning still, Greyhoof headed towards the door. “If you need anything later, you know where to find me, sire.”

Flash thanked him again, then added as Greyhoof began to leave, “I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”

“Do me a favor and stay out of trouble,” Greyhoof replied, more joking than stern. “You never know when the stars will run out, Sir Flash Sentry.”

With a wink and the quiet turn of a doorknob, Greyhoof was gone.

Left alone, Flash looked at himself in the mirror. Unlike the morose visage that greeted him nearly every morning, this version of Flash Sentry appeared confident, well-groomed, and content. His wild blue mane had been tamed the best that he could. No tear stains marred his shining, tangerine fur. Though he lacked the armor of his forefathers, he appeared to be a pegasus in his prime nonetheless—twenty-three and without a sin to his name.

Self-denial, of course, was not a sin. In some ways, it was holy.

A set of hooves knocked at his door. “Flash? Hey, buddy, it’s us! You ready to go out on the town?” Steel Wind asked, his voice muffled by the oak.

Flash grinned at his reflection. You ready?

When it grinned back, that’s when he saw it.

The mask.

As I’ll ever be.

“Coming, Steel.”

~

Canterlot, while technically the unicorn capital of Equestria, had no laws prohibiting Earth ponies or pegasi from living within its city limits. Nor was any caste banned from putting up stakes in business or new residence inside the capital. Nevertheless, some subscribed to a more harsh ideology than others, and what was not explicitly prohibited in law may still have been treated with disdain in tradition.

When Flash Sentry, Steel Wind, and Sharp Spear glided to a smooth landing within the heart of Canterlot, stopping just before the doors of Thermals, not one unicorn or Earth pony was seen nearby. Pegasi of all shapes, sizes, colors, and genders instead were pouring into the clubs. Thermals seemed to hypnotize and beckon its guests within, the ebb of bass and treble coupled with multicolored strobelights a beacon many could not ignore.

“Well, here we are!” After running a forehoof through his silver-gray mane, Steel Wind adjusted the collar on his dress blues and smirked. “You ready to head in, Flash?”

“I guess so,” Flash said, looking around. “Sure are a lot of pegasi heading into this place.” Doesn’t seem to be much of anypony else, though. What a surprise.

Sharp Spear laughed and ran a comb through his black mane while he buttoned his matching uniform. “‘Course, bud! What did you expect? It’s called Thermals! Not Runes or Crops!”

Steel Wind joined him in a round of chortles. The two stallions were identical but for the color of their manes—mirroring each other in a few ways deeper than skin.

Face-hoofing, Flash shook his head and started towards the club. “That’s not funny, guys. Now, c’mon.” Let’s get a beer and get this over with.

Exchanging shrugs, Spear and Steel followed Flash Sentry into Thermals. The bouncer at the door—a large, white pegasus stallion with tiny wings—merely nodded as they passed, making no motion to stop them.

Inside, Thermals was painted from wall to ceiling with beautiful shades of the sky. A sunset decorated one wall, a winter’s dawn on another. Clouds of every shape and layer dotted the ceiling against a backdrop of pure, cyan blue. A small group of tables, couches, stools, and chairs were arranged on the floor, all draped in red velvet. Flash noticed that, but for a few relaxing pegasi and two lone unicorn stallions, all of these seats were empty. Most of the clubs’ patrons were hovering in the air or flying around, drinks gripped in their forehooves or settled in their bellies.

Two separate bars ran along the sides of the club. At the front, a large stage hosted a pegasi band. One mare was crooning a mournful, yet beautiful tune, while three stallions accompanied her on the drums, guitar, and piano. Flash’s eyes widened at this, noting that all three stallions used their wingtips along with their forehooves to play. Never seen something like that before. Then again, I don’t get out enough.

“Whoa! Check it out!” Steel whistled and hovered into the air. With a forehoof to his eyes, he squinted through the haze of flashing lights and clamoring pegasi. “Plenty of beautiful mares around! Looks like we hit the jackpot tonight!”

Spear gasped. “Really?!” Jumping up, he joined Steel and wolf-whistled, long and low. “Hey, he’s right! C’mon, Flash! I’ll be your wing-pony!” He shot Flash a wink and grinned, nodding his head towards a gaggle of mares hovering near the middle of the club.

Flash cracked a grin and dismissed them with a forehoof. “I’m gonna get one of those free drinks. You two fly on without me. I’ll catch up to you later.”

The two shared another glance and a shrug before Spear conceded, “Alright, Flash. Suit yourself. Grab me a vodka and cranberry if you head up, alright?”

Flash snorted. “Really, Spear?”

Steel guffawed and smacked Spear on the back. “That’s a mare’s drink!”

“And the quickest way to a mare’s heart is through her stomach!” Spear protested.

“Oh, sure,” Steel mumbled, rolling his eyes. “Her heart. That’s what you’re—”

Retching, Flash Sentry hurried away from the bickering stallions, feeling his dinner begin to churn in his stomach. Ugh! Can’t those two go without five seconds without fighting or being vulgar?

Then again, what does it say about me if I have them for friends?

Shaking Steel’s words out of his ears, Flash wove his way past a crowd of incoming patrons, dodging wings and muzzles blocking his way. Parting through the sea of pony flesh, he reached his sanctuary on the other side of the club.

As he pulled up a barstool, Flash was greeted by a tall, brown pegasus stallion with a map of scars winding across his muzzle and neck. “What can I get for you, buddy?”

Detecting a hint of an accent in his voice, Flash paused a moment before replying, “Just a beer.”

“Beer?” The stallion scoffed. “We’ve got nearly twenty types of beer.”

“I don’t know, just… Just whatever’s your favorite.” Flash shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

The bartender sighed. “You want it to be one of your free ones?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Give me your left forehoof, then,” ordered the bartender.

Raising an eyebrow, Flash complied, though warily.

The bartender grabbed a stamp and pressed it against his fetlock, leaving a black number one right above his keratin. “Gimme a second, and I’ll get your beer,” he said, grabbing a glass and trotting away.

Flash rubbed at his fetlock, dismayed to see that the fresh ink wouldn’t smear. I hope this comes off. Hard to explain to Ironhoof or anypony else why I’ve got numbers on my hooves. He rubbed at the number more forcefully, gritting his voice. It remained there, bold and black and taunting.

“Don’t worry. It’ll come off in the shower,” a mare’s voice assured.

Whirling around in his seat, Flash nearly fell backwards when his eyes met the mare’s.

There, lacking her trademark uniform, was Spitfire, Co-Captain of the Wonderbolts. Before her sat a half-finished beer and her flying goggles. Her wildfire of a mane had been combed and straightened into a flickering flame behind her. Her red-orange eyes, a pair of fiery rubies, alighted on Flash Sentry, and he couldn’t help but blush.

She held up a forehoof, drawing no attention to his obvious discomfort. A black number two marred her left fetlock. Spitfire shrugged. “Only way these clubs can keep track of who’s had the free drinks and who’s lying. Can’t say I blame ‘em, though. Don’t worry.”

“Th-thanks.” Flash looked over to see the bartender return, a glass of dark-brown beer in his forehoof. Accepting the drink, he took a sip, then stuck out his tongue and retched. Waaaaay too bitter. Ugh. I feel like I’m drowning in hops.

Spitfire laughed. “Not a beer drinker?”

“Er…” Wiping his mouth with a forehoof, Flash grumbled, “Not that kind of beer.” He pushed his glass away, then rested his forehooves in his lap. “Thanks again for the tip about the stamp, by the way,” he said more confidently, mentally kicking himself.

First, a Princess, and now a Wonderbolt? C’mon, Flash! Get a grip on yourself. She probably has somepony anyway.

Almost on cue, a strong, built stallion trotted over. With his light-blue coat, dark-blue mane, and an apple pie on his back, Flash Sentry knew it could be none other than Soarin, the other Co-Captain of the Wonderbolts Flying Team.

“Hey, Spitfire! Who’s your new friend?” Soarin greeted, a cheerful grin on his muzzle. He pulled up a stool beside Spitfire, but not before setting his pie carefully on the counter.

“Oh, I don’t believe we’ve met yet.” Spitfire introduced herself and Soarin to Flash Sentry. “I’m Spitfire, and this is Soarin. I’ll shake hooves for him, because he’ll be pawing through that pie in about five seconds.”

Flash chuckled and shook forehooves with her, a light blush reddening his cheeks. “I’m Flash S-Sentry. Of the Royal Guard.”

“Royal Guard, eh?” Spitfire grinned as she withdrew her forehoof. Nudging Soarin in the side, she mused, “Looks like we have one of the law amongst us. Better behave, Soarin.”

Muzzle-deep into his pie, Soarin responded by slurping and licking his lips, muttering in greedy delight to himself while apples trickled down his chin.

Sharing a laugh with Spitfire, Flash allowed himself to relax slightly. “Oh no, no. I’m off-duty tonight. Barring any bar fights or something like that, you should be fine.”

“Well, good. I wouldn’t like to get thrown in the dungeons of Canterlot Castle,” Spitfire said as she took a drink of her beer.

“They aren’t exactly pleasant, no.”

“Ever worked down there?”

Flash shook his head. “No. I don’t envy the guards who do.” You lose a part of your sanity when you’re surrounded by all that gray, steel, and stone.

“Neither do I.” Setting her glass back down, Spitfire said, “Don’t tell anypony, but if I could’ve been a Royal Guard, I would’ve.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well… One, you’re serving Equestria. Two, you get to live in Canterlot Castle. And three,” Spitfire explained, stretching her wings, “you get to wear awesome armor. Our flight suits aren’t exactly the most comfortable, especially when you’re stuffing your face every other day. Right, Soarin?”

“Mmmmf?” Soarin briefly looked up from his half-eaten pie, licked his lips, shrugged, and resumed his meal.

“Oh, is that so?” Flash challenged. “Well, armor isn’t a walk in the park, either. Maintaining it, polishing it, putting it on every morning at the crack of dawn. Fitting into the horseshoes. You get used to them after a while, to the point that you feel strange without them, but they’re still no walk in the park.”

“Hmm.” Spitfire leaned forward on the bar, holding up her chin with a forehoof. “But you have servants to help with that, don’t you?”

Flash nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, we do.”

“Earth ponies?”

Flash nodded again.

Spitfire exhaled. “Hmm.” Finishing her beer, she pushed the glass away, then climbed down from the barstool. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air for a minute. Care to join me, Flash?”

Join a Wonderbolt? For fresh air?! “Er… sure!” Pushing away his glass, Flash clambered down to all four hooves and looked over to Soarin, who was currently licking his pie tin with a generous tongue. “Be right back, Soarin!”

“Mmmph-hmmph!”

~

Perched on a thick, fluffy cumulus cloud above Canterlot’s tallest towers, Flash Sentry and Spitfire glanced down at Thermals, noting how, even as the moon began to rise higher and higher in the night sky, more patrons were beginning to file in.

From this angle, Flash could see that the occasional wingless pony trotted in through the front doors. Somehow, that observation gave him a bit of warmth—something that his sober blood and the cold night denied him.

“Sorry. I just get a bit claustrophobic sometimes,” Spitfire explained, laughing a bit at her own expense. “I’m not really much into crowds, or fame itself, to be honest. Soarin eats that stuff up just as much as he does his apple pie, but I grin and bear it the best that I can. Still prefer the sky above anything else.”

Flash nodded. “Me too. I’d rather be flying than anywhere else. Canterlot, Cloudsdale, the Badlands… doesn’t matter.”

“Probably gets awful stuffy in a stone castle all day, eh?”

Flash shrugged. “Well… there are rough days.” Everyday. “But there are good days, too.” Good moments.

Flash paused, bringing his eyes to Luna’s canvas of night. The pure, blue-black brilliance of the atmosphere had been painted and textured with dots of stars, radiant against their backdrop. In the distance, Canterlot’s towers loomed, as foreboding and final as obelisks above all those below. Atop one of these towers, Flash swore he saw a large, winged pony perched like a gargoyle, its red eyes slicing through the night and staring back at him.

Shuddering, Flash looked back to Spitfire, who was eyeing him with interest. “S-sorry. Thought I saw somepony I knew.”

“That’s alright. Don’t worry about it.”

As he rubbed his nape, Flash looked away. “Er, thanks.”

“Say…” Lying down on her belly, Spitfire glanced up at Flash and smiled. “Are there any mares in your life?”

“Well, there is one that I—”

Quickly throwing his forehooves over his mouth, Flash felt his wings shoot to attention, crimson shooting across his muzzle. Did you really? Did you really just… to her?! You barely know her! You can’t even… what are you—

“Whooooooa. Okay there, dude, calm down!” Spitfire rolled on to her back, laughing and kicking her hooves in the air. “I don’t need the details! It was just a question!”

Mentally smashing his head against a wall, Flash Sentry willed his shameful wings to close, prayed that his poisonous adrenaline would leave his telltale heart be. Hoping that the night would darken and disguise his muzzle, he shook his head and rubbed his forehooves together. “S-sorry. Actually…” He cleared his throat of its shame. “No, no, there isn’t.”

“Ah.” Spitfire rolled back onto her belly and stretched her forehooves. “That’s a shame.”

A shame?!

“You seem like a pretty nice stallion. Though, a bit awkward, I will admit,” Spitfire said with a yawn, resting her head on her crossed forehooves. “But…” Smiling up at him, she finished, “I hope you do find somepony to love.”

Blinking in disbelief, Flash felt himself nodding dumbly, independent of his will. “Thanks.” I think?

Spitfire spotted his bewildered expression and laughed into a forehoof. “Wasn’t what you were expecting when I asked that question, huh?”

“Er… To be honest, no,” he said sheepishly, resting his forehooves back down on the soft cloud.

“That’s what they all say,” Spitfire said, rubbing at her shoulder.

Flash turned to her. “‘They’?”

“Uh…” It was the mare’s turn to force a chuckle and rub her nape, a streak of scarlet darkening her yellow cheeks, making them a fire of their own. “Er, forget I said that. What I mean is…” Resting a forehoof on his shoulder—which seemed to shift the blush from her muzzle to his—Spitfire said, “You’re a nice stallion, Flash. Not my type, but… I hope you find somepony who is.”

And what if they aren’t?

“Though…” Spitfire lowered her forehoof and shifted her gaze to Canterlot Castle. “Sometimes, you have to wonder: what’s all the fuss about types of love anyway?”

His interest piqued, Flash’s ears pricked, and he shuffled to look over at the castle with her.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Spitfire added, puffing her chest a little as her eyes traced the arches and towers of the Royal artifice, “I understand full well how the old ways were. Pegasi starving, the tribes fighting. Ponies dying. Eternal winters. I know full well what it is to be a pegasus… to be a warrior, even if I don’t wear any armor.”

She grinned slyly at Flash, who returned with a toothy smile of his own.

“But still…” Spitfire sighed and shook her head, glancing back at him. “You probably aren’t the right pony to be talking to about this. I’m sure you can read between the lines, though.”

You don’t know the half of it, Spitfire, he wanted to say. I, more than you could ever imagine, want the old ways to truly be old… But I have no celebrity and no standing, and if I was ever a lion, it was only for a day.

In that moment, they exchanged smiles of rebels in waiting, grins of those who chose to bide rather than strike. Flash Sentry felt the need to tell her everything. To tell somepony, anypony, truly everything, even the things he had yet to burden Greyhoof with (and never would), the things he didn’t even want to admit to himself.

His words crisp and clean, devoid of slur or stagger, he couldn’t blame it on anything but himself and his foalishness.

Instead, he simply nodded.

Spreading her wings, Spitfire stood up and scanned the skies. “Ready to go join our friends back in the low places?”

Letting the wind tease his primaries as he flared his wings, Flash nodded, agreeing in more ways than one.

~

Princess Luna looked at her canvas of stars, tracing a forehoof in her field of vision. Casting her spell, she concentrated, bringing a group of stars together to form another constellation—another addition to her nightly masterpiece.

Unlike the mare she had been over a thousand years ago, Luna knew now that ponies marveled at her night sky. Whether they were philosophers contemplating the majesty of existence, astronomers searching for a new star, or lovers relishing the silence of the gentle twilight, she was loved.

With every murmur of awe and wonder, every musing of mystery and magic, and every kiss shared beneath her blanket, Princess Luna felt their love, and knew her work would never be for naught. There would never again be a mare in the moon, nor jealousy and anger in her heart.

At least, not towards her sister.

Leaning her forehooves over the railing of the observatory, Princess Luna sighed, allowing the gentle breeze to tease her starry mane and pull her thoughts away.

Luna glanced over her shoulder. The light in her sister’s bedchambers was out, but the one in Twilight’s was still on. The gentle glow of a lamp peeked past the window and shone out into the night. A reading lamp.

Princess Luna shook her head.

Tomorrow would come both too quickly and not quick enough. Regardless of Twilight’s insistence, Princess Luna was prepared for a rough day for all three alicorns—most likely comforting the youngest among them. While she hadn’t witnessed Orion’s outburst herself, Celestia’s recollection of the event was enough to make her hackles rise.

Although she’d never been her student, and probably never would be, Luna was eternally grateful to Twilight for freeing and befriending her. She wouldn’t allow somepony to harm her that easily. No, not on her watch.

Still, a part of Luna reasoned, there was something a bit… strange about the whole thing. Something she couldn’t quite put her hoof on.

A rustle of movement drew her attention. Princess Luna illuminated her horn, casting light into her darkness. “Halt! Who goes there?”

“It is only I, Your Highness. Forgive me.”

Luna took a step back, watching as Blazing Radiance lowered himself to the platform of the observatory with his leathery wings. He bowed low, shaking his muzzle. “I did not mean to frighten you, Your Highness.”

“‘Tis fine, Radiance,” Luna said, smiling gently. “Forgive me. I am a bit… wary tonight.”

“Of what, Your Highness?” Radiance asked.

Luna leaned back against the railing and sighed once more. “Tomorrow, we are bringing the prisoner Orion to Royal Court to list the charges against him. Habeas corpus, as it was called in Old Equestrian. I am just concerned that doing so will distress Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

“I see, Your Highness.” Radiance trotted up to her and offered his Princess a soft smile. “If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

Luna smiled back at him. “Thank you, Radiance. You are too kind.”

“Not at all, Your Highness.” He bowed again.

“Although, if you could please give me a moment, Radiance. I would like to be alone for a few minutes.”

The batpony nodded. “Of course, Princess. Just let me know when and if I am needed.”

Keeping her eyes on her stars, the night alicorn waited until the sound of her guard’s leathery wings faded into the distance, letting him climb the thermals up, up, up, until she was alone.

Love. So many couples gathered under the stars for love, marveled and counted them, contemplated and named them.

Love. A feeling as old as time, felt in ways innumerable, immeasurable. As perennial as the grass and omnipresent as Polaris, Draco, and Cassiopeia with them.

Luna sighed. The hearing would be tomorrow. In a few weeks, the trial.

A cold wind blew in from the north, and it made her shiver.

Habeas Corpus — Part I

Flash Sentry woke the next morning with a clear mind and clean eyes. Emboldened by his unexpectedly pleasant night, neither of his cheeks had been matted with tears during his slumber. He rose quickly, not one stumble or stagger in his step. Not one semblance of a headache or stomachache drew him back to bed or urged him to forego his duties.

Rising about thirty minutes before the trumpets would sound, Flash snuck out of his room to the showers a few levels below, mindful of the bar-stamp and Spitfire’s advice. There, he took a quick shower alone, making sure that he scrubbed his left fetlock clear of the bartender’s markings.

After toweling off, he rushed back up the stairs, hoping to beat or meet Greyhoof’s arrival. Luckily, he slipped into his room and dried his mane before his servant arrived.

“Good morning, Flash,” Greyhoof said with a light bow.

“Good morning, Greyhoof.”

“Took a shower this morning, didn’t you, sire?”

Flash nodded. “How could you tell?”

“Your mane’s still wet.” Greyhoof turned to the closet, gathering Flash’s armor and shining it in preparation for his knight’s return to Royal Court. “Not that it is a problem, of course. You were starting to need it,” he added with a playful chuckle.

Laughing, Flash finished drying his mane, then walked over to his wardrobe and grabbed his manebrush. While he took to taming his mane, Greyhoof polished one piece of golden armor after the other in contemplative silence.

As Greyhoof went through the motions, he eyed Flash from the corner of his eye. None of Flash’s typical melancholy was present. Although he wasn’t whistling a jaunty tune or anything of the sort, he thought with a cheeky grin, there was a definite cheerfulness about the pegasus.

Tilting his head, Greyhoof spoke up once he had finished shining the armor. “How was your little… shindig last night, sire?”

Flash grinned. “Actually, much better than I thought it would be.”

Greyhoof raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How so?”

As he gave his mane one last brush, Flash explained, “Well, first of all, the place was actually much nicer than I expected. Considering it was Steel and Spear inviting me, I was thinking that Thermals was going to be one of those little dive-bars they’re always prowling around.”

Greyhoof rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes. Those two are always so… delightfully rustic.” He motioned for Flash to approach him, chestplate in his forehooves. Flash complied, making no objection as Greyhoof snapped him into his armor.

Flash stretched a wing out to preen while Greyhoof set to work. “Second, there were… quite a lot of pegasi there, and even a few others. Everypony seemed friendly enough.” Even that bartender, though I won’t be taking drink recommendations from him anymore.

“Others? Non-pegasi? That is very interesting, sire.”

“I thought so.” Pulling a feather straight with his teeth, Flash paused for a moment before he added, “Even a few of the Wonderbolts showed up.”

His tired eyes lighting up at the mention of the renowned flying team, Greyhoof’s smile reappeared with a vengeance. “Wonderbolts? Really?”

Flash nodded and folded his wings back to his sides. “Really really. They were very nice, too! Not anything like I expected. I even chatted with one of them for over an hour!” He beamed at this last statement, a light blush rising up on his muzzle at the recollection. Laughing, talking with Soarin and Spitfire… Well, mostly Spitfire, since Soarin’s mouth was full of pie most of the night. Not that I minded...

“Oh, ho, ho.” Patting Flash on the back, Greyhoof leaned towards him and mused with a coy grin, “So you did meet somepony.”

Though he immediately shook his muzzle in response, Flash’s springing wings seemed to confirm Greyhoof’s taunt. Pushing them furiously back down, Flash insisted, “N-no I didn’t! Not really…”

“’Not really’? Not really is not the same as no, dear boy.” Unwilling to let it go, Greyhoof smirked. “Was it the beautiful Spitfire, by chance?”

“How—how did you…?!” Scarlet, Flash took a step back and occupied himself with straightening the blue bristles on his helmet. He avoided Greyhoof’s gaze and face-hoofed away from him. Oh, c’mon, Flash! Really? Get a grip.

After a few more laughs, Greyhoof calmed down and patted Flash on the shoulder. “My apologies, Flash. I couldn’t help myself. Though,” he admitted with a grin, “I’m glad to hear that you had a nice time. It is good to cut loose once in a while. Meet somepony new. Maybe even make a new friend.”

Regaining his composure, Flash Sentry nodded. “Yes, you’re right. You know, I’m actually glad I went out there. In fact, I wouldn’t be opposed to going out to Thermals again.”

“Oh? And why is that, sire?” Greyhoof asked.

“Well... Let’s just say I met somewhat of a… kindred soul last night,” Flash said with a wink.

His smile falling, Greyhoof’s muzzle turned stern. “Now, sire, I do hope that you are being careful.”

Flash held up a forehoof. “Don’t worry, Greyhoof. I’m pretty sure that I can trust them. And I won’t be telling them everything.” Or telling anypony, for that matter.

“Alright, then,” Greyhoof said, sounding skeptical. “Just remember that liquor relaxes the tongue as well as the mind. The drinker might forget their promises, even if they mean no harm. Many a dissenting opinion, for better or for worse, has been shared under the guise of unassuming gossip. And gossip, sire, is something that nopony can truly erase, no matter how hard they try.”

“I know,” Flash replied, seeking to change the subject. He extended his wings and puffed out his chest a bit. “How do I look?”

Greyhoof smiled. “Perfect, sire. Worthy of a knight ready to return to his duties, if I may say.”

Beaming, Flash replied, “That’s what I was going for.”

Not just another day today. I’m stationed back at Royal Court, out of Ironhoof’s mane—for now, at least—got a decent night and decent night’s sleep under my wing… Sure, it’ll be tough, but why not be a little confident today? Try to drag that happiness out?

And besides… Now I know I am not alone anymore. And that’s something, right?

Greyhoof trotted over to the door and opened it for his friend. “Indeed, sire. And you have met that expectation well.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Greyhoof said, bowing again.

Flash started out the door, then paused in the threshold, tilting his head. “Say, Greyhoof…”

“Yes, sire?”

“… How did you guess it was Spitfire?”

Dismissing him with a forehoof, Greyhoof said before departing, “Sire, one does not give away all their secrets so easily.”

~

“Ugh… Why did you let me drink so much?” Steel Wind groaned, shoving a bite of dry toast into his even drier mouth. The bread stuck to the roof of his mouth like sawdust, adding to the nausea churning in his stomach. He struggled not to retch, setting the toast back down. Bringing his forehooves to his head, he laid down on the breakfast table and closed his eyes.

Sharp Spear splashed cold water from his glass over his muzzle and rubbed his eyes, not caring that some of his armor had gotten wet as well. “I could ask the same of you, Steel. You should’ve stopped me after that fifth vodka and cranberry!” Coughing, he valiantly fought the urge to add to his bowl of oatmeal, holding his stomach and rocking back and forth.

Beside them, Flash Sentry munched on his sweet oats, rolling his eyes. “You’re welcome for flying you two back last night, by the way.”

In a unison of raspy, strained voices, Steel and Spear muttered, “Thanks, Flash.”

“Not a problem,” Flash said with a smug grin. Taking an eager bite of his toast, which was smothered in butter and jam, he asked, “Looking forward to your assignments today?”

Steel raised a forehoof and unfurled his wings, wrapping them around himself. “Ugh… Ironhoof has me set for armory guarding today. Hopefully nopony needs a new spear,” he said, glancing over at Flash, “because I don’t even think I’ll be able to do the paperwork before noon.”

Spear scoffed and removed his helmet. “You wouldn’t be able to do the paperwork anyway, Steel!” Grabbing his water glass, he dumped the rest on his mane and face, groaning in relief. “It’s so hooooot down here...”

Scooting away, Flash grabbed his bowl of oats protectively and scowled. “Spear, watch it! You almost drowned my breakfast!”

“It’s his fault!” Spear deflected, pointing across the table at Steel. “I told him to keep track of time and watch for any cute mares!”

“And when you didn’t see one up to your standards, you drank ‘their’ drinks!” Steel weakly lifted his head from the table to snicker at the accusatory pegasus. “I’m starting to think you just ordered those for yourself!”

Flash Sentry rolled his eyes, occupying himself with his oats. While Spear and Steel jabbed at each other through their hangovers, he looked around the Great Hall, noting that Captain Ironhoof was eating amongst his lessers this morning.

Seated at the officers’ table, Captain Ironhoof appeared to be in deep conversation with his second-in-command: Lieutenant Shooting Star. Although a pegasus, Shooting Star was believed by some among Flash Sentry’s rank to be a more competent warrior than the Captain. Nevertheless, the decision had been made by Shining Armor, and, Flash knew, rules that preceded any of them.

Captain Ironhoof whispered something to Shooting Star before glancing towards Flash. Shooting Star nodded, then followed Ironhoof's gaze.

Flash froze, his spoon still halfway to his mouth when Ironhoof rose from the officers’ table and started towards them. Steel Wind and Sharp Spear carried on with their quarrel, failing to notice the stern Captain heading their way.

“—If you would have just told me that you weren’t willing to be my wing-pony—“

“—Not like you were going to get anywhere with those mares, Spear! Are you really so thick-skulled that—“

“—Much better chance than you, Steel! When was the last time you took a shower? Seriously—”

“—Says the one who’s stinkin’ up our bunkbed! Give me a br—“

“Guys!” Slamming a forehoof on the table—to the groan of both hungover stallions—Flash hissed between his teeth, “The Captain is coming this way!”

While Spear and Steel exchanged panicked glances and struggled to scoop their jaws off the floor, Flash Sentry sat up straight on his side of the bench, folded his wings shut, and avoided the approaching, disapproving gaze of his Captain.

His eyes narrowed, Ironhoof made his way to Flash’s table quickly. Neither Steel nor Spear had the chance to compose themselves properly before the Captain said, his words sharp and biting, “Now I remember why I choose to eat most of my meals in my office. At least there I get a little peace!” Shooting daggers at the two who’d been bickering only moments beforehoof, he added, “Must you disturb the entire Great Hall with your incessant chatter?!”

Flash glanced around the room from the corner of his eye. Almost everypony was staring their way now, many with smirks on their muzzles. Though grateful that he hadn’t earned Ironhoof’s attention, he couldn’t help but flinch as the Captain stared into his friends with a look meant to kill.

Shaking and bowing his head fervently, Steel Wind was the first to apologize. “Y-yes, sir! Sorry, sir! It won’t happen again, s-sir!”

Sharp Spear nodded in agreement, nearly smacking his head against the table as he did so. “I apologize, s-sir! I will make sure Steel doesn’t start anything again, sir!”

Under the table, Spear received a swift kick to the shin. He bit his lip, hard, almost enough to draw blood. Flash inwardly groaned and waited for Captain Ironhoof to scold them.

Surprisingly, Ironhoof chose not to comment on Spear’s deflection, instead replying, “Good. I’ve got enough on my hooves without having to deal with your little tiff.”

The two stallions bowed their heads again, muttering thanks and apologies.

Ironhoof met Flash’s eyes, the rage in his own replaced by a stern determination. “Flash Sentry. Come with me.”

Flash flinched for a second, a bolt of ice squeezing its way through his chest. What did I do THIS time? In a brief moment of panic, he glanced down at his left fetlock. It was still clean.

Ironhoof snorted, glaring at him. “Did I stutter?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Flash said as cleanly as he could, “No, sir. Forgive me, sir.” With the eyes of the Great Hall following his every motion, he rose from his seat to his hooves, then followed after the Captain.

While they trotted towards the exit, Flash glanced again from the corner of his eye. There, Steel Wind and Sharp Spear stared in dumbfounded disbelief, appearing more fearful for their friend than they had been for their own predicament.

~

Twilight stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath, catching it in her chest. When she let it go, she opened her eyes and her muzzle, reciting the same two sentences for the umpteenth time that morning.

“Orion, son of Comet Trail and Starlight, you have been charged with three counts of assaulting an officer of the Royal Guard and one count of attempted assault upon a member of the Royal Family. The maximum penalty for these charges is—”

Twilight face-hoofed, shaking her head at her reflection. “No. No. That’s still too quiet,” she mumbled in exasperation. “Try it again.”

Drawing in another shaky breath, Twilight tried again, attempting to inject more courage or confidence into her words. No matter how many times she repeated herself, she still could detect no more authority in her voice than the previous try. She felt and sounded more authoritative, she reasoned, when she asked Spike to dictate a letter.

At the thought of Spike, Twilight Sparkle looked around her chambers and sighed, lowering her wings. Not only had she missed Cadence’s arrival in Ponyville a few days ago due to her royal duties, but she had also not seen her closest friend in almost a week. While she doubted that Spike minded too much—Probably spending a lot of time at Carousel Boutique, she thought with a giggle—she missed him still.

He was more than sufficient at calming her nerves in times like this.

Shaking herself out of those thoughts, Twilight lifted a forehoof and cleared her throat, pointing to her reflection as she practiced those weighty words once more.

“Orion, son of Comet Trail and Starlight, you have been—”

A knock at the door sent her spinning around, feathers rustled and wings unfurled in slight surprise. “W-who is it?” she called, cursing the lingering stammer in her voice.

“It’s me, Twilight.”

The familiar, comforting voice of her mentor calmed her racing mind and heart, if only for a moment. “You can come in, Celestia,” she said with a small smile.

Twilight began to spark her horn, her magic interrupted by the yielding of her door to a quicker aura. Celestia walked in carefully, her own muzzle painted with a slight smile as well. Though, Twilight noted, it appeared to be pained, as if added by afterthought.

“How are you feeling?” Celestia asked, meeting her by the mirror. “Did you sleep well, Twilight?”

Folding her wings to her sides, Twilight sighed. “As well as I could, Celestia.”

Celestia tilted her head. “How long have you been standing in front of this mirror?”

“Um…” Twilight forced a chuckle. “Maybe an hour?”

“Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Er…” Another awkward little laugh. “I was, um, getting to it.”

Celestia extended a wing towards her, stroking her shoulder lightly with her wingtips. “If you like, Twilight, we can postpone the hearing until later this afternoon. Or even the evening. I’m sure that Luna will not mind if we extend Royal Court into her night, if just for a day.”

A smaller wing rose up to meet Celestia’s, brushing back. “No, it’ll be alright.” With a roll of her eyes and a shrug, Twilight added, “You know how I am when it comes to worrying.”

“True. Of course, a little anxiety is to be expected about these sorts of things. Ask Luna about my first day of Royal Court sometime, long, long ago. You seem profoundly well-adjusted in comparison to that, Twilight.”

They shared a laugh.

“I suppose you’re right.” Rising from her haunches, Twilight stepped away from the mirror. Her stomach rumbled as she rose, prompting a slight blush and another chuckle. “Eh, heh, maybe I should get something to eat.”

With a nod, Celestia stood up beside her. “There are plenty of pancakes in the Royal Dining Hall. Just the way you like them. Unless you’d rather eat in here…”

Twilight started for the door. “Oh, no. I think I’ll be alright, Celestia.”

Celestia beamed. “I know you will be.”

~

Captain Ironhoof remained silent, his muzzle stern, his eyes focused on the path before them. Flash followed alongside him, only a hoof-step behind in pace, letting his eyes wander. Down a maze of corridors he followed his Captain, allowing loyalty to suppress his fear and keep him silent.

Unlike the Ironhoof of the battlefield, this Ironhoof gave no directions, no edicts as of yet to the knight following him into the dark.

When the armory reared into view, Flash’s heart started to stammer again, a halved spear dotting his consciousness. Maybe somepony saw Spear with the broken weapon?

As Ironhoof ignored the room and continued onward, Flash’s thoughts turned to last night’s bar escapade instead. Maybe he noticed the marks on Steel and Spear’s fetlocks—neither of them shower as much as they should, ugh!—and he wants to question me about them? But why wouldn’t he have confronted them in the Great Hall, then?

A recollection of two glowing, red eyes piercing through the blanket of night struck Flash when Ironhoof began ascending a set of stairs. Or maybe somepony saw me on that cloud with Spitfire… But! I was off-duty then… I wasn’t doing anything wrong! Right? Feeling his nape begin to dampen with sweat, Flash swallowed his fear and continued after his superior, up, up, up...

When they reached the top, the Royal Courtroom entered Flash’s field of vision. While it was close to opening for another day of Royal Court, none of the Princesses appeared to be waiting for them. Flash realized that he and Ironhoof were alone on this level—at least for now.

Ironhoof remained as talkative as a statue while he walked over to the great double doors of the Courtroom. Only when Flash halted beside him did Ironhoof chisel away at his muzzle and speak, turning to face him at last.

Standing up straight and tall, Ironhoof cleared his throat and gestured to the great doors. “Today, Flash Sentry, at high noon, the prisoner Orion shall be brought from the dungeons to Royal Court in order to hear the charges against him.”

Though his words were professional, the tone in Ironhoof’s voice was anything but. Flash Sentry could practically taste the haughtiness in them. Resisting the urge to gag, he nodded and bowed his head. “I see, sir.”

“While this is not an official trial, I would hope you understand the importance regardless.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Habeas corpus.” Ironhoof glanced around the empty corridors near the hallway, smirking a little as he scoffed to himself. “Branded into Equestrian law from the days of our founders. The right of the accused to hear the charges against them within two days of arrest.

“Far too much than many of these rotten criminals deserve,” he added under his breath, staring straight at Flash.

Let’s hear you say that in front of the Princesses.

Flash bowed his head again, burying his derision. “Yes, sir.”

Ironhoof gestured for Flash to rise. When he did so, he continued, “Normally, these hearings are of little importance. One Royal Guard, the Princesses, the Prince, and myself listening to somepony plead guilty and beg for forgiveness. Not even a hint of trouble from the scum. Not even a kick.” A spark of a grin shot across Ironhoof’s muzzle as he paused in thought.

Turning around, Ironhoof stared at the doors and grit his teeth, his grin disappearing. “I have a feeling that this one will not be as gentle.”

The Captain shifted back to his soldier. “Flash Sentry, I want you to be very focused during this hearing, absolutely keen on keeping watch for any sign of escape or attack from our criminal. Keep your eyes glued to prisoner, and don’t let him even twitch a hoof towards freedom. Use force if you have to, and if he gets feisty, watch for my signals.

“I will have two additional Royal Guards in the Courtroom as well, by the prisoner’s side—just in case. I do not want any more… accidents,” Ironhoof finished, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

“Yes, sir,” Flash said with a nod, appearing unfazed by the implied insult. An accident was allowing you to—

Ironhoof scanned the room with his gaze, checking once more to ensure that they were alone. “Good. Now… As to why I have brought you here alone…”

Other than to keep me afraid, Flash thought, the hint of a snarl jumping across his jaws before he could contain it. Luckily, Ironhoof didn’t look back in time to see it, meeting Flash’s eyes only when his muzzle was blank again.

“I want this to be clear. What happened on Princess Twilight Sparkle’s first day of Royal Court is starting to become known. While reporters, photographers, and the like are more than welcome at trials—how rare they are—hearings are different. Mostly because, like I said, the little worms give up when they know they have no chance of swaying the judges.”

There it was—Ironhoof’s smirk again. Flash swore he could feel the oats he’d just ingested beginning to boil over in his stomach.

“However… The press is not explicitly barred from attending a hearing, or reporting on it. As far as I know, nopony with any of the papers shall be attending the hearing today, but I am sure at least one will be here afterwards to report on it.”

Slowly, the mystery of his isolation began to resolve before Flash Sentry’s eyes. Feeling the intensity of the Captain’s gaze, he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“I want to be absolutely sure that this is clear. There will be no more accidents with this—this scumbag,” Ironhoof spat, snorting steam through his nostrils, “and that my Guard shall not be portrayed as incompetent or undisciplined in the face of a simple task, such as restraining and securing a prisoner at his own hearing.”

Incompetence? Flash felt himself beginning to match Ironhoof’s steam, fighting back the treachery of his wings and jaws. Willing himself not to show offense, he nodded heavily. “Yes, sir.”

Ironhoof was pacing around him now, his armor unable to conceal a light layer of sweat clinging to his coat. “Free speech is guaranteed by our law. I cannot tell the press how to portray my soldiers. I can tell my soldiers, however, to make sure that nothing akin to what happened a few days ago ever, ever, happens again.”

Muzzle-to-muzzle with him, Captain Ironhoof whispered, “Do I make myself clear, Flash Sentry?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Flash Sentry replied, swallowing hard. He could feel his wings shaking.

“Don’t think for a second that you are receiving special treatment. The other three guards who will be at that hearing will receive this same lecture. I want to make sure there are no weak links in our chain. Understood?”

Understand this, you—

“Understood, sir.”

Captain Ironhoof stepped away, grinning. “Perhaps you have taken my words yesterday to heart. Keep up that discipline, Flash Sentry.”

Avoiding his superior’s gaze, Flash bowed this time, knowing from the finality in his tone that the conversation was over. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Tracing the patterns of the floor beneath his hooves, Flash Sentry kept his head down. He heard Ironhoof’s hooves meet the top of the stairs, then the bottom, then whisk away into a corridor. The Captain’s steps were heavy and swift, doubtlessly keen on drawing away one of the three other unlucky guards who would have to endure today’s spectacle.

Once he finally rose, sighed, and stretched his wings, Flash Sentry traced the patterns of the great doors next. In swaths of royal blue and purple, the doors resembled a great map of Equestria, past and present. The patterns began to merge and swirl into a haze of everything and nothing as Flash swam through his thoughts, allowing the full force of Ironhoof’s words to drown him.

Press… Guards… Princesses…

All of this for one stallion who couldn’t take it anymore…

Assaulting a Guard? At least a year in the dungeon. Three, and trying to harm a Princess on top of that?

He wouldn’t even—

“Flash?”

Her voice.

Catching a yelp with a forehoof over his mouth, Flash spun around, bowing at the same time that he chained his wings to his sides. “Pr-Princess!”

No! Not yet! Not so soon!

Twilight walked up to him, her hoof-steps echoing through the empty corridors. Another sound entered his ears: her light chuckle. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright, Your Highness.” There! Sound normal for once when you speak to her!

While his voice complied this time, his eyes locked onto her forehooves—not even three feet away from him, her golden horseshoes shining in the early-morning light…

“You can stand up, Flash,” she said, smiling down at him, in that same way and same voice that she had said it two days ago, and the day before that, and the day before…

Scrambling up to his hooves, Flash Sentry mentally cursed himself with the vocabulary of a blasphemer and the rage of Ironhoof. Standing here like an idiot, don’t even have my spear yet for my post, looking at these doors like a foal…

Not even forty-eight hours had passed, and yet, here Flash Sentry was, facing her—the one he had wronged. A habeas corpus of his own, with only Princess Twilight Sparkle acting as judge. Nopony was there to guard the guard. Only the rising sun accompanied them in this moment, pouring in from the windows, watching.

“Heh…” A chuckle slipped past his muzzle. A simple face-hoof would’ve been far too generous; if given the opportunity, Flash Sentry would have punched himself. He bowed again, though only with his head. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I was… not expecting you.”

“That’s alright!” Twilight said, chuckling back. “I… I’m early, too. I thought nopony else would be up here.”

Trying to find an excuse to avoid her gaze, Flash Sentry mocked a sweep of the room, darting his eyes all around. “Ah, yes, Your Highness. It appears there is… nopony else.”

Nopony…

About thirty minutes before Royal Court would begin, Flash Sentry stood before the Princess he had dishonored.

Alone.

Nopony here, but I, and…

Twilight nodded. “Yes… Have you been informed of the special session taking place today at n—”

“Y-yes, Princess!” Flash blurted, tearing himself from his thoughts.

Twilight’s eyes widened, taken aback.

Flames roared up on his cheeks, becoming a blaze, a tempest. Flash Sentry stumbled on his hooves for a moment, wanting to grip a spear that wasn’t there—to defend himself from an internal threat.

It was too early. He was here too early, and she was here, too, and they were having a conversation, and it was just—

“S-sorry!” Flash began bowing fervently, dipping himself to the floor and back up at least three times before he added, “I—I need to g-get something! I’ll—I’ll be right back, Your Highness!”

Before Twilight could say anything more, Flash Sentry bolted away, down the stairs, and into a hallway.

Sighing, Twilight looked up at the doors. In a little more than five hours, she would face the stallion who had looked at her with true fire in his eyes and pure hate in his heart. The stallion who, although he was purely equine, seemed to be more frightening than any corrupted spirit she had faced.

Perhaps, Twilight reasoned, that’s why she felt so strange about this whole thing.

Habeas Corpus — Part II

In the innards of Canterlot Castle, down several levels of stairs, through a series of dark, twisted corridors, and behind multiple sets of heavy, guarded, triple-locked steel doors, laid the dungeon. The stallions who were assigned to guard this prison often joked to one another that it laid in the bowels of Canterlot Castle for good reason, given the inhabitants there.

While torture belonged to a much darker time in Equestrian history—before the founding of the nation itself, during which the three tribes waged war against each other—the punishment criminals met here in this enlightened and modern age wasn’t much better, Orion thought. A dark, lonely cell, furnished only by a single desk, chair, rock-hard bed, and toilet, coupled with meals of oats and hay (complimented perfectly by the most tepid water he’d ever drank), made for hard times indeed.

And that wasn’t even getting started on the squeezing limiter around his horn, or the snickering Royal Guards who hoofed him meals, or the draft. Oh, Celestia, the draft.

Although he’d only been behind bars for two days, he had already become an expert on the dungeon. Along with Orion, four others were currently imprisoned: two Canterlot art thieves, whose zest for rare paintings was unmet with a competency in crime; a Manehatten counterfeiter, who made bits in his basement, and would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for “those damn foals”; and an attempted arsonist from Appleloosa, who had been caught trying to set the local salt-bar on fire. This last criminal had pled guilty by reason of insanity, but his thick accent and slow wit weren’t proof enough.

While the four others were true criminals, Orion refused to believe that he was deserving of living amongst these scum. He spoke to them only when spoken to, and refused to humor the smug guards with any conversation. He kept to himself, waiting, biding, thinking of Clover. This passed the time sufficiently enough, not that he would be able to keep time, anyway.

Like the finest of Las Pegasus casinos, there were no clocks down in the bowels of Canterlot Castle, and no windows to show the exchange of princesses and their stars. Not that he found anything lovable about the sun or moon anymore, anyway.

As he pushed away his second offered meal of the day—another bowl of hay and oats—Orion’s monotony was interrupted by another Royal Guard arriving to “greet” him. This one—sporting purple armor and even more pride than the rest—he recognized as the Captain.

The Captain bucked a hindhoof against the bars of his cell, drilling a loud rattling into Orion’s ears. “Wake up! It’s time, scumbag.”

“Time?” Orion snorted, meeting the Captain’s steely eyes. “Time for what? More verbal abuse? My name is Orion, not ‘scumbag’ or ‘slimeball.’”

“Anypony who raises hoof or horn against the Princesses is a scumbag.” Ironhoof clapped his forehooves. Two white pegasi guards trotted up to join him, along with a hulking brute that Orion recognized as one of the dungeon guards. All four stared daggers at the prisoner.

“I am innocent until proven guilty,” Orion said flatly, “and you are not the judge of either.”

Ironhoof flared his nostrils, sparking his horn. He directed his aura towards two pairs of hoof-cuffs hanging from nails on a nearby wall. “Pleading innocence will only drag out your misery, slimeball. We have four witnesses. You have nothing.”

Ignoring this, Orion leaned up on his hindhooves against the bars. “That is what you believe,” he said, unflinching from the Captain’s gaze. “I am entitled to a fair trial if I so please, and that is what I shall receive.”

“You sound awfully calm for somepony who went berserk over Princess Twilight Sparkle telling him a simple no, like a colt being denied a cookie.” Holding the hoof-cuffs in his aura, Ironhoof said with a smirk, “You won’t be throwing any more temper tantrums while I’m around, scum. Nor will any of my soldiers allow it.”

Orion smirked back. “We’ll see about that.”

Captain Ironhoof said nothing, narrowing his eyes in reply. He gestured towards Orion with a forehoof and took a step back, holding the hoof-cuffs steady in his magic. The large, scarred dungeon guard levitated a set of keys in his aura, then unlocked the bars of Orion’s cell in a quick motion.

Before he could climb down from the bars, Orion was on his belly, the two pegasi pinning him to the stone floor. He groaned and arched his back, flopping like a fish out of water beneath the strong stallions’ hooves. Instinctively, magic surged through his body, tunneling through his bloodstream and finding its way up to his horn. The achingly tight limiter around his horn dismissed any hope of spellcasting.

Though he continued to struggle, it was soon in vain. His forehooves wretched behind his back, he cried out when the hoof-cuffs were slapped around them. His hindhooves met a similar fate, pinned together and useless for anything but waddling.

Lifting the prisoner in his silver aura, Captain Ironhoof barked, “Feeling proud now, are you, scumbag?!”

Fidgeting his forehooves, Orion scowled in response, muttering, “None of you better tear my suit.”

His fine, silk suit remained mostly unchanged from the day he’d worn it into Royal Court, albeit with a little dust on the sleeves. The diamond necklace, however, had been confiscated as soon as his hooves met the cobblestone floor of the dungeon. Its sharp edges, he was told, could be sharpened further into a weapon, brought against a guard’s neck.

It was horseapples, and he knew it.

Ironhoof laughed again, lighting his horn to grab two sets of lead-chain from another dungeon wall. “Boy, in a few weeks, the last thing you’ll be worrying about is that damn suit.”

Turning to the two pegasi holding the squirming stallion, Ironhoof levitated the chains over. “Fly him to Royal Court! Silver Shield and I will meet you in a few minutes. Flash Sentry should be there, along with the Princesses and Prince.”

The pegasi nodded, securing a length of chain around each of Orion’s forehooves. Before they could depart, however, Captain Ironhoof trotted over, lifted Orion’s chin, and smiled.

“Good luck, worm."

~

Comforted only by the fact that Princess Twilight was met with a steady stream of visitors once Royal Court began, Flash Sentry somehow survived that morning. It had taken every last ounce of his self-control not to simply feign sick or worse after that encounter.

I knew I would have to face her again. I was just hoping that I could have handled it a bit better. I thought last night would have helped.

Throughout the rest of the day, Flash and Twilight had barely said a word to each other. In her few minutes of downtime, Twilight perused a book of Equestrian law, drinking in every word like a parched mare would an oasis. Celestia’s comfort helped to only temper her anxiety, not eliminate it.

Noon stampeded into Royal Court, brushing the previous few hours past with all the regard of a rampaging storm. As soon as Princess Twilight’s last visitor, who left with a bow and a gracious smile at eleven-thirty, exited the Royal Courtroom, a slurry of ponies entered.

Almost all appeared to be servants. A whole team of Earth pony stallions carried four separate podiums into the room and began setting them up near the steps to the throne. Other servants unrolled the long train of red carpet that led from the doors to the center of the room, revealing the full, checkerboard pattern of the Courtroom’s floor. Still others brought glasses and pitchers of waters to complement the podiums.

The sole entrant who did not seem to be a servant was an elderly unicorn mare with a large roll of parchment, a few inkpots, and several quills. She appeared to be a stenographer. The mare began setting up her own table and stool near the podiums, then laying out the tools of her trade.

About fifteen minutes later, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna entered through the great doors, accompanied by a scowling unicorn stallion trailing behind them.

All in the room along with Flash Sentry froze for a moment, bowing. Many mutterings of “Your Highnesses” filled his ears. Princess Luna was the one to flick her mane, dismissing everypony back to their duties.

As he rose, Flash Sentry caught eyes briefly with the whining stallion following after the Princesses. He waited until he had passed before he shook his head.

To say Flash Sentry was not fond of Prince Blueblood would be more than an understatement. Thankfully, he had never been assigned to escort or guard the prince, and had only seen him a sprinkling of times in the five years since he had become a Royal Guard. Of course, those few times had been memorable for several reasons—and none of them were good.

“Auntie, I’ve already told you that I have no interest in attending this hearing,” Blueblood protested, trotting up to Princess Celestia. “I have nothing to say regarding this scoundrel Orion, and, quite frankly, I have more pressing matters at hoof than to spend an hour here!”

Princess Celestia spun on her hooves, glaring at her nephew. “Blueblood, it is law that all ruling Princesses and Princes be in attendance during any hearing of habeas corpus, barring an emergency. We have been over this many times,” she said, poking his chest with a forehoof, “and the law will not change for your laziness.”

“Lazy? Me?!” Blueblood scoffed. “I am not lazy, Auntie! In fact, I am being pragmatic! There is nothing to gain from me being here!”

Princess Luna sighed, shaking her head. “Nothing you say will change our minds. Now—” extending a wing, she pushed him towards one of the podiums—”get ready. The hearing will begin in around fifteen minutes.”

Throwing up his forehooves in surrender, Prince Blueblood groaned again and spat, “Fine! I will be ready for this joke of a hearing!” As he stomped towards the farthest podium on the right, he added, huffing, “You know he’s guilty, anyway!”

Glaring at him with the intensity of her own sun, Celestia exclaimed, “That’s enough, Blueblood! Bite your tongue and take your place.”

Blueblood stuck his tongue out at her, which Flash Sentry regarded with the raise of an eyebrow. More of a colt than a stallion… And HE is a Prince? He noted as well that either Princess Celestia did not see his gesture, or did not regard it as worthy of a response.

Flash Sentry did not have much more time for contemplation. While the last of the servants finished preparing the Royal Courtroom, all three Princesses and the Prince took their places. Princess Twilight set her thick book of Equestrian law down at her podium, while the others left theirs bare. The stenographer waited patiently, her forehooves crossed in front of her and the aura of her stubby horn keeping a quill alight.

Once the Courtroom was ready, Princess Celestia cleared her throat, then addressed the crowd of servants assembled near the middle. “Thank you all for your assistance in setting up a special session of Royal Court today. You may have the rest of the day to yourselves.”

Cheers of joy and gratitude followed, making all three Princesses smile brightly. Prince Blueblood merely slumped over in his podium, resting his cheek against his forehoof and grumbling to himself. Flash, too, found himself smiling. At least a few ponies won’t have their day ruined by this.

I have stood post at hearings before, but none like this.

After the last of the servants filed out, Princess Luna closed the doors with her magic, shutting the Royal Courtroom into silence. The Princesses, Blueblood, Flash, and the stenographer were alone now, waiting for the final arrival.

The prisoner.

Flash Sentry held his spear with both forehooves, looking around, avoiding the eyes of all the royals—especially the one in the podium beside Prince Blueblood, with her nervous muzzle and enormous lawbook. C’mon… It has to be close to noon. Let’s just get this—

The great doors beside him flung open, a silver aura prying them apart.

Captain Ironhoof led the way, followed by Silver Shield, the dungeon warden. Behind them, two pegasi guards dragged Orion into the Royal Courtroom. Each pegasus held tightly to a length of iron chain connected to one of Orion’s cuffed forehooves.

In spite of having seen this with other prisoners several times before, Flash felt his jaw drop a little. They’re leading him like a dog.

Once all five were inside, Captain Ironhoof shut the doors behind them with his magic. The Captain then bowed deeply, lowering his chest to the checkered floor. The other guards followed suit, as did the stenographer and Flash Sentry.

Orion did not bow.

Princess Celestia gestured for all to rise. As she did so, she stared across the room at the stallion in chains, locking eyes with him.

Orion said nothing.

Twilight cleared her throat. “Captain, please have the prisoner approach the—”

“Princess!” Silver Shield rose a forehoof, thrusting another towards Orion. The hulking stallion darted his eyes from the prisoner to Twilight in dismay. “Your Highness, he did not bow!”

Twilight bit her lip. “Oh. Um…”

“That is fine, Shield,” Princess Celestia said, still staring at Orion. “Please, no further interruptions.”

“Yes, Shield,” Ironhoof muttered, scowling at his underling, “no further interruptions.”

“No further interruptions of any sort, Captain,” Celestia corrected. On her right, Luna nodded.

Ironhoof bowed. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

Celestia flicked her mane. “It is alright,” she said stiffly. She turned to Twilight, mustering a warm smile. “Please, Twilight, continue.”

Taking a breath through his nose, Flash steadied himself against his spear, watching Twilight do the same, only with her forehoof on the book.

“Captain,” she said, louder and bolder this time, “please have the prisoner approach the podium.”

As Twilight spoke, the stenographer began jotting down her exact words with the quill in her flickering magic. Flash glanced over, seeing that she was hunched over the parchment, determined to write every word.

Captain Ironhoof nodded to the two pegasi. His soldiers complied eagerly, yanking the chains and forcing Orion forward. The guards advanced with their prisoner, though the accused did not lower his eyes to the floor, hang his head, sigh, weep, bow, or anything of the sort as he approached the four podiums.

This prisoner kept his muzzle high, his gaze steady, and his steps light. He did not struggle against the chains, nor halt and resort to dead weight, nor hesitate a single moment. He followed Captain Ironhoof and Silver Shield to the Princesses and Blueblood, to the center of Royal Court, to the epicenter of his first brush with his fate.

Twilight waited until all five stood below them in the center, then nodded. “You—you may now be seated, if you so desire.”

Ironhoof, Shield, and the two pegasi sat down on their haunches. Orion stood on all four hooves.

Flash Sentry stood up straight, holding his spear firmly.

Princess Twilight paused, reading over something in her book again. Silence followed, permeating the Royal Courtroom, palpable with her anxiety. Princess Celestia and Luna were looking at her with nothing but encouraging smiles on their muzzles, while Prince Blueblood appeared downright bored.

Though he had taken Ironhoof’s order to observe Orion to heart, Flash Sentry couldn’t help but glance at Twilight Sparkle and silently will her on himself. You’re doing great. The next is, “This special session of Royal Court has—”

Twilight cleared her throat and looked down at the five. “This special session of Royal Court has been convened for the purpose of fulfilling the promise of habeas corpus. Equestria’s founders outlined in the very first outline of the Equestrian Charter that any and all accused of a crime shall be brought before Equestria’s rulers within forty-eight hours to have the charges against them read…”

That’s… that’s perfect, I think, Flash thought, a dumb grin forming on his muzzle. She sounds exactly like Celestia or Luna rec—

Shaking his muzzle, he snapped his attention towards Orion. Focus, focus!

Orion made no indication that he had heard Twilight’s explanation, and did not remove his eyes from Princess Celestia.

“... In accordance with Section X.II of the Equestrian Charter, this session has been convened within the forty-eight-hour timeframe. Do you understand?” Twilight asked, glancing down to the prisoner. Her prisoner.

At last, Orion tore his dark, fiery eyes from Princess Celestia and drilled them into Princess Twilight instead. “I understand, Princess,” he replied, uttering the last word as if it were a curse.

Captain Ironhoof glared at him. Orion didn’t flinch.

“Al-alright.” Twilight turned the page of the lawbook with her magic. “At this time, the charges shall be read to you. Each charge will be accompanied by a number of counts, or accusations of instances, in which Equestria’s rulers believe that the law was broken. For example, four separate instances of theft shall be charged as four counts of theft.”

Twilight looked down at him again. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Princess,” Orion replied, almost mockingly.

Ironhoof sent another glare his way—sharper, colder, an icy knife meant to pierce his arrogance. Orion didn’t even blink.

Involuntarily, Flash gripped his weapon tighter.

“After all charges are read, the final possible penalty shall be explained to you. The penalty may include a fine, prison time, or both. The penalty shall be the result of all charges, and may or may not be reduced in exchange for a guilty plea, and or good behavior while imprisoned.”

Although there was no stammer in her words, Twilight appeared to have lost a bit of her edge. She hesitated slightly in looking down at Orion, Flash noted, and seemed to draw her head back a bit, preparing for an outburst.

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna still had one eye on her, the other now focused on Orion. Prince Blueblood, too, must have noticed the shift, and, for the first time, seemed to be interested in the trial. The Prince divided his gaze as well.

After an eternally long, split-second pause, Twilight asked of Orion a third time, “Do you understand?”

“Oh, yes, I understand,” Orion seethed, baring his teeth as he glared back up at her.

The hostility in his words and his stance and his eyes was more discernible than a summer breeze or a winter’s chill. Anger proliferating through him like cold fire, icy and blazing, Orion stood tall, ready for what was to come. Waiting. Biding.

Flash Sentry could feel it from here, and it sent chills down his spine.

Sparking her horn, Twilight bought herself a moment with a glass of water. Perfectly healthy, there was no tickle in her throat, no thirst on her tongue.

She knew it was coming, too, and needed a moment.

When she was finished, all eyes locked upon her, Twilight Sparkle glanced up from the lawbook and spoke directly to him.

“Orion, son of Comet Trail and Starlight, you have been charged with three counts of assaulting an officer of the Royal Guard and one count of attempted assault upon a member of the Royal Family. The maximum penalty for these charges is ten years in prison.

“How do you plead?”

In four words, all attention and oxygen shifted to him. Orion, son of Comet Trail and Starlight, a noble’s noble, now commanded the attention of the Royal Courtroom. Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Prince Blueblood, Princess Twilight Sparkle all looked to him, waited, hanging on his words.

His tormentors had him in shackles, in chains, and asked him if he were guilty or innocent.

In the silence—thick, hot, nauseating—Orion savored this moment, committed it to memory, and relished it more than he would any delicacy. If he had been a lesser stallion, he might have licked his lips, or laughed, or grinned.

He didn’t.

”Innocent.”

The stenographer’s quill hung in a wavering aura, useless, lost. Captain Ironhoof’s muzzle upturned into an expression of pure outrage and mated with his wide eyes and flattened ears. Shield and the two pegasi guards let their jaws fall agape in shock.

Leaning against his spear like an old stallion would a walking stick, Flash Sentry should’ve caught the moment in his teeth when it came, but he didn’t.

You just…

It was not Princess Twilight who broke the silence.

It was Prince Blueblood, with a gasp and a scoff. “Innocent?! How can you even—”

“Blueblood, enough!” Princess Celestia snapped, rounding on him. Her wings began to flare. “Silence!”

“But he is a fool!” Blueblood pointed at Orion. “He is wasting our time! Just put him in the dungeons already and throw away the key!”

Celestia narrowed her eyes on her nephew. “Everypony is entitled to—”

“Oh, you would like that, would you?”

All eyes snapped to Orion again. Celestia turned her head slowly from Blueblood to the prisoner below her, meeting his gaze.

Dropping his mask, Orion allowed himself to pierce through, and gritted his teeth as he stared back up at the hypocrite. “You would like to lock me up and throw away the key, wouldn’t you, Celestia?” He snarled, drawing his lips back in a twisted, smug display of aggression. “You would like to see me rot in—”

Both pegasi yanked his chains, pulling him to the ground. Orion groaned as his belly met the floor. Flash took a step forward and braced himself, holding his spear normally.

His eyes wild, Captain Ironhoof spun on the prisoner. “You shall NOT talk to our Princess that way!”

Orion looked up, growling low as he said, “She is not my Princess, and she should not be yours!”

Ironhoof raised a forehoof and began to draw it back. “How dare y—”

“ENOOOOOOOOOUGH!”

The Royal Canterlot Voice ricocheted off the walls and ceiling, piercing through the eardrums of all in attendance, including Luna herself. Flash groaned, bringing a forehoof to his head, as did the others. Holy—

“There will be ORDER in this Courtroom!” Striking her podium with a forehoof, Luna lurched forward and leaned down towards Orion and Ironhoof, her majestic wings flared fully. “Both of you!”

Orion began to laugh, filling the Royal Courtroom with a series of maniacal cackles. “Order? Order?! Ha! Ha, ha, ha! Kek, kekeke! Order, order!”

Luna struck the podium again. “SILENCE!”

Rising to his hooves, Orion whooped another laugh. “Order! Order!” Calming quickly before Luna could object to him, Orion stared into Princess Celestia, saying, “That is all you care about! Order! All of this is because you would not let me marry my wife!”

Twilight brought a forehoof down on her podium this time. “Please! Silence!” she exclaimed, unable to hide a slight reluctance in her words.

Captain Ironhoof, his face a mix of disbelief and fury, gestured to Flash Sentry with a flick of his muzzle. Catching the signal immediately, Flash flared his wings and tightened his grip on his spear, ready to fly.

Luna raised her forehoof again, but Celestia cut in.

“That is NOT true!” Celestia shouted, rising to her hindhooves. Her mighty wings began to unfurl, the light in her eyes overwhelmed by a building blaze. “I care about far more than you would ever know!”

Princess Twilight reached over to her mentor, her eyes wide. “Celest—”

“No you don’t, you haughty old TYRANT!” Orion writhed against his chains as the pegasi pulled them, struggling to keep himself on his hooves. “You only care about yourself! You know nothing of LOVE!” He screeched with all his might on every word, squirming and writhing and thrashing against the chains as Silver Shield joined the fray.

Celestia’s wings extended to their full length, banners of white that would not surrender. Her mighty horn was lit in a blinding-white aura. Her keen eyes were aflame, not a trace of violet to be found in them—only black against white, tempered by red. “You—you—you—!!!”

Captain Ironhoof sparked his horn—the final signal.

Flash Sentry propelled himself forward with his wings, rocketing across the Courtroom in the blink of an eye. Colliding with Orion, he toppled him over, pressing him down to the floor with the spear against his throat. This time, the limiter prevented any chance of a counterattack. Orion thrashed and squirmed, screaming gibberish as the two pegasi, Shield, and Flash held him down.

With his silver magic, Captain Ironhoof brought Orion’s head up to face him. “Give me one damn good reason why I shouldn’t just bucking muzzle you right now!”

“This,” Orion said, and spat on him.

The saliva trailed down Ironhoof’s cheek, forming the last straw. With another burst of magic, a blue muzzle engulfed Orion’s mouth in a swath of silence, rendering his screeches mere whispers.

Royal Court was now in complete disarray. Princess Luna kept banging her forehoof on the podium, shouting, “ORDER! ORDER!” Prince Blueblood was gesturing with his forehooves to the thrashing prisoner on the floor, a complete expression of “I-told-you-so” written on his muzzle. Princess Twilight was flipping through the lawbook with her magic at an impressive speed, appearing to be searching for any possible solution to the madness unfolding before her.

And, in the middle of it all, Princess Celestia—lone ruler of Equestria for a thousand tumultuous years, who’d raised hooves against Discord, Sombra, her own sister, and a Changeling Queen—stood, silent, stone, statue.

Then, when Twilight glanced up at her for guidance, Celestia stepped back from her podium, turned around, and galloped out of the Royal Courtroom.

“CELESTIA!”

Rolling over onto his side, Flash Sentry looked up to see Twilight Sparkle, taking to her hooves as the last strand of a multicolored tail slipped through the back doors.

Underneath his muzzle, Orion grinned so widely that it hurt.

Prince Blueblood dissolved into a fit of hollow laughs. Smacking his forehooves against his belly, he declared to the chaos as he stepped down, “Court is adjourned! Court is adjourned!”

Still laughing, Blueblood stumbled through the back doors, almost tripping over his own hooves.

Leaping from the podium, Princess Luna landed on her hooves a few feet from the fray of guards. Lighting her horn, she engulfed Orion in a haze of purple magic, levitating the stallion up towards her. Orion struggled against his restraints and the aura, but could not resist.

Her patience exhausted to the bone, Princess Luna decreed as she tightened his limiter and his hoof-cuffs with her magic, “Your trial shall be in four weeks' time! For now, back to the dungeons with you, troublemaker!”

Setting Orion back down, she spun on Captain Ironhoof. “Get him down to the dungeons as soon as possible! I don't want him spitting in any more faces!”

Ironhoof bowed, prompting the rest of the Royal Guards to do the same. “Yes, Your Highness! Of course, Your Highness!”

Her own eyes a fire of their own, Luna nodded and turned to the stenographer. “I must go and console my sister. Please, Bright Quill, tell me that you recorded everything?”

Trembling, Bright Quill nodded as she bowed her head. “Y-y-yes, Your Highness! Several sheets were needed due to the in-interruptions, b-but—”

“Good. You are dismissed, Bright Quill.”

In another flash of magic, Princess Luna was gone.

Left alone with his wards, Captain Ironhoof took charge. Pointing at Silver Shield and the two pegasi, he commanded, “Take the prisoner back down to his cell immediately! Remove the muzzle only once he is inside! He shall not disturb anypony else more than he has!”

With quick bows and mumbles of, “Yes, sir,” the three headed towards the exit, two hovering and holding Orion in the air, the third stomping towards his sanctuary.

Once Silver Shield closed the doors behind him, Ironhoof turned at last to Flash Sentry. “Good work, Flash,” he said, unable to manage a smile.

Flash leaned against the spear, catching his breath in an attempt to calm the racing of his heart. “But, sir—”

“No buts. That scumbag is a nightmare!” Ironhoof lit up his horn, using his magic to adjust his armor where it had been knocked about. “We did all we could. The Princesses wanted to let him speak, and he did. I didn’t muzzle him until he assaulted me.” With a smirk, he added, “Another charge to be brought against him in the trial.”

Feeling himself begin to pale, Flash muttered, “Y-yes, sir. Trial…”

“I must ensure that our Princesses are alright. Flash, lead Bright Quill safely back to her chambers.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Good.”

With a kick off his hindhooves, Captain Ironhoof galloped out of the Royal Courtroom the same way as the others.

Flash Sentry was alone with a mare again. He trusted himself to be professional with this one.

Still continuing to pale, Flash Sentry walked over to Bright Quill and bowed his head. “Madam Bright Quill? Shall I escort you to your room?”

Bright Quill sighed and began gathering her supplies, securing them in her magic. “I suppose. Thank you, Flash.”

He stepped aside and waited for her to finish. “Not a problem.”

Shaking her head, Bright Quill said as she looked over to him, “All of that rage over a law everypony knows about? Attacking the Princesses and the Royal Guard over something that’s been in place for over a thousand years?” She scoffed. “How can one be so stupid?”

“I—”

Not now.

Flash Sentry bit his tongue and nodded.

How indeed…

As he led Bright Quill out of the abandoned room, Flash Sentry let his thoughts tunnel down to, as Spitfire would have said, the low places.

And he wondered.