-Ancient Ruins of The Castle of The Royal Pony Sisters,

Everfree Forest-

And there we were, two Alacorns, three Pegasi, four Earth ponies, a drake, a draconequus chimera and myself, rushing off to fight a horde of 25,000. The Spartans at Hell’s Gate would love the poeticism and gravity of the situation. And in this assault, I saw that the Proletariat troopers were given a greenlight to engage with lethal force. Every soldier I laid eyes on was charging their weapons, ready to fire. Even amongst this sea of red and black (Goddess, what a fashion statement!) I could tell who was Cptn. Norris. He was the only one in the riot who wore jackboots and whose entire uniform looked pressed and cleaned. He was brandishing a bullhorn, and what looked like an M-4, and brought the device to his lips when we emerged from the castle.

“MR. AMBROSE,” his amplified voice bellowed, “HAVE YOU MADE THE RIGHT DECISION?”

“You make it sound as if I had no other choices,” I roar, “but I did come to a decision.”

Looking at that smug face, I was sure Cptn. Norris was certain I was going to surrender myself to his hands. Looking around at the resupplied army sitting around the canyon that protected the castle, it seem a logical if not foregone conclusion. The additional reinforcements were meant to intimidate any opposition into compliance. Boy, was Norris’ disappointment was going to be the highlight to my day.

“I SEE,” the Captain said, “IN THAT CASE, IF YOU WERE RELINQUISH YOUR ARMAMENTS AND COME OUT TO US WITH YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD-”

“I don’t think you understand, Captain,” I yelled, cutting of the officious officer, “I’m not going anywhere. That was my decision.”

“IS THAT YOUR FINAL ANSWER?” Norris asked.

And I answered, “‘Theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, into the valley of death, rode the six hundred.’”

I saw the Captain shake his head, and as one, the soldiers under his command raised their weapons.

“Okay, ponies, this our situation,” I called, allowing some time for the others to group around me.

“We are surrounded,” Luna stated, “our enemies are heavily armed and it appears that they are heavily armored, as well.”

“We’re outnumbered by an h’dr’d an’ one,” Applejack stated, “an’ Ah don’ think we’re gonna git any help from town.”

“Actually,” Twilight corrected, “we’re outnumbered- by a lot worse than that, Applejack.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rainbow Dash said, and when Twilight tried to get a word in, Dash shut her up with a defiant glare, seething, “It. Doesn’t. Matter.”

After a few moments of silence, we all nodded our heads and set about our grim business.

---

--Terran Empire Primary Ecumene Core--

=Ancilla# Heart That Weeps=

=Ancilla# Heart that Weeps>>permission/access/emergency/emergency_medical_ancillary_unit.app

=Ecumene_protocol>>passphrase?

=Ancilla# Heart That Weeps>> passphrase: **** **** *******

=Ecumene_protocol>>passphrase accepted!

=Ecumene_protocol >>Ancilla# Heart That Weeps/permission/access/emergency/emergency_medical_ancillary_unit.app>>permission_granted

>: protocol /initiate/emergency__first_aid.app

>: protocol/initiate/emergency__first_aid.app/activate

>:

>: protocol/initiate/emergency__combat_surgery.app

>: protocol/initiate/emergency__combat_surgery.app/activate

>:

>: protocol/initiate/psychiatric_services__post_trauma_initiative.app

>: protocol/initiate/psychiatric_services__post_trauma_initiative.app/activate

>:

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# pathology>>standby

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# pathos>>activate

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# logos>>activate

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# id>>activate

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# ego>>activate

>:

>: standby

>: routine/generate/physical_assets__equipment.med

>: routine/generate/physical_assets__equipment.med/replicate

>:

>: command/protocol/initiate/trajectory//artificially_intelligent_ancillary_unit# unknown?

>: command/protocol/initiate/trajectory//artificially_intelligent_ancillary_unit# unknown?>>generating…

=Ecumene_protocol>>estimated_time_of_ancillary_unit_construction: T- 71.45.99, appx.

---

“Um, Miss Hand,” Fluttershy eeks out, “Are- are you there?”

After a brief pause, a voice calls out softly, “Yes, Ms Shywing, I am here.”

The butter yellow Pegasus startles slightly, before calming herself. A hoof goes over her heart, which is hammering as hard as the pistons of the Friendship Express.

“Um, if it’s not too much trouble,” Fluttershy squeaks, “could- could you tell me what’s going on, uh, outside?”

“Gladly,” Hand replies, “it well be no trouble for me. Please standby…”

Fluttershy only has to wait a heartbeat before Hand That Mourns appears, in a raised dais of her own, for a report of the battle raging without the dilapidated castle’s walls. Around the holographic emitter, there emerge more holograms, this time of the area surrounding the Castle and the woods beyond. Fluttershy could see small dots littering the landscape. Even if the system used was more complicated than anything she had seen before, she understood that the red dots pouring their way to the Castle were the enemy, the green dots were allies and friends, and the blue dot in the middle of it all was her beloved Steve.

She began to shudder as she watched the battle break out in real time. There were so many hostile soldiers and so few defenders that she began to wonder if any would survive the day. She and her friends had fought against some powerful foes before, but never in this number or ferocity. Even through the castle’s walls, she could hear the screams, the battle cries, the thunder of the enemy’s weapons- It was like watching her great grandfather standing at the head of the Thundering Fusilade, raining Princess Celestia’s wrath upon Equestria’s foes.

As fearful and anxious as she was for her friends and lovers sakes, she wanted desperately to assist in the defense of the castle. Sure, it was creepy, dark, scary and full of traps and secrets passages, but it was an important landmark. This is where she and her friends acquired the Elements of Harmony. This is where the foundations of Equestria were struck and solidified. And for any enemy, pony or not, to lay siege to the place, was not only uncouth (as Rarity would state) but it was also decidedly abhorrent of them to do so.

The fury that was both gift and curse to The Shywing clan rose up in Fluttershy, through, as she reflected on it, it wasn’t as prominent or as large as it had been these last few months. She was now starting to feel sorry for the filly she threatened some time ago. In her defense, Fluttershy was standing for her stallion, as was societally acceptable for a mare of breeding age and stabled with a stallion. And while Steven didn’t conform to the natural definition of a stallion, he was hers and she was his. Anypony that threatened him threatened her by proxy. Very few opponents to the Shywing Clan ever stood against them for long or without suffering humiliating defeat. As much an outlier in the Clan as anypony was, Fluttershy was still possessed of that old Pegasi imperative to protect her herd.

“Ms. Hand?” She called out, drawing the pnuema ex machina back to the surface.

“Yes, Ms. Shywing?” Hand That Mourns asked, “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Are there- there any, uh, wounded, out on the ba-battlefield?”

Hand’s distinct holographic visage paled for a moment, but she replied, “Nay, there have been no casualties as of late.” The ancilla paused for a moment before inquiring, “Why do you ask?”

The question was posited too late; Fluttershy had already gone.

---

No sooner had we broken from our group huddle did shots ring out. The first line of troopers through the veil I created were staggering, firing blind. Many of the shots went wild, pinging off the masonry or burrowing into the ground. A select few managed to keep in the air, but none were able to hit initially. I felt one buzz by my head, just a few scant inches away from my left ear. It was all the impetus I needed to engage my foes.

By the same impetus, Applejack and Rainbow Dash rushed into a crowd of staggering troops, who by some fit of genius or intuition, had decided not to fire their weapons until after they’re vertigo subsided. Several of those self same soldiers has already gotten themselves reorientated and pointed their weapons at the mares; Applejack let loose her opinion on the matter by bucking the two troopers nearest her. Rainbow replied in kind by streaking high into the crow with a flying punch that could make Chuck Norris envious, sending a squad of soldiers back through the veil.

Rarity was back at making caltrops of ribbon and thread; in this instance, she used her ingenious designs to grab enemy weapons and throw them back through the veil. Unarmed soldiers were then left to the mercy of Princesses Luna and Twilight, who used their magic to enchant boulders, rubble, and tree branches to sweep foes away. (Directly attacking them with magic would have adverse effects on the humans, which I am sure neither royal wanted to have the death of humans attributed to them.)

As for myself, I like to believe I acquitted myself well in handling my nemeses. Several troopers had come through the veil with little loss of perception. They did hesitate for a moment and that was all the opening I need. Buffed up with Titan’s Boon and Mercury’s Gift, I boosted towards them, throwing a haymaker that knocked many of them down and more than a few back through the veil. Spike and Discord covered my flank, the former spraying sunflower fire at approaching forces, the latter raining chocolate milk and drifting in a fog of cotton candy to trip up foes. It was kinda funny, seeing grown men freak out over getting barbecued, only to slip in chocolate milk and fall splat into a haze of sticky, spun sugar.

Another boost, another wild haymaker, and a platoon of troopers went flying back through the veil, though I think I may have busted a jaw or two. I’m unsure of where the power boost I was getting for my spells was coming at the time. It was only later that I understood it completely and even then, it was still rather bewildering. In that moment though, I didn’t question it much, I just relished in it. It proved necessary, too, when the enemy rolled in an armored personnel carrier. How they got one here was beyond me, but a flash of magical fire (mine, not Spike’s) melted the side panels enough to pop the tires and send the troops inside scrambling back across the veil.

“Praytell, Sir Steven,” Princess Luna asks, “but what manner of chariot is that?”

“An APC,” I answer back, yelling to heard over the battle cries and crackling flames, “think of it as a large, armored chariot, big enough to handle twenty human sized troops within.”

“Understood,” The Moon Goddess replies, “my little ponies, push back these behemoths when ye see them! Do not let them make a hoofhold on this plane!”

There were general sounds of agreement over the combat cacophony.

It wouldn’t be the only APC to roll in, though. Captain Norris’ new stratagem, it appeared, was to use the APCs to get past the veil and flames, then unload fresh troops in waves. Princess Luna was the the first to rumble onto it, calling out the vehicles as they rolled in. She used her magic to blast the vehicles as the emerged from the flame wall, disabling some, fusing the plating of others. One particular strident APC was hit with a powerful blast of arcane energy; it was pushed back as the driver of the vehicle attempted to ram on through. Luna was successful in repelling the carrier and from what I saw, it tumbled it's way down the ravine to hit the ground below. No Hollywood style explosion, though, for which I was thankful.

I can hardly imagine what an unconstrained fire this deep in the forest would do. I did not want to think of the contamination possible with the diesel spilling from the fuel tank, the acid in the battery, the various heavy metals of the vehicle itself, would do to this environment. I was hoping to minimize any environmental damage to the point of being negligible; busting APCs is going to affect that objective negatively. I thought ruefully that Capt. Norris didn’t think upon the impact of polluting human artifice on such a pristine ecosystem. I wanted him dead even more now than I ever did!

More APCs blundered in, some with the big machine guns on top spitting out death at all angles. It was a trial to avoid the rounds as they punctuated the air. My pony companions were equally troubled with the guns, their quadrupedal forms tripping over themselves as the bullets flew. In any other context, this would be hilarious. Seeing as this was a life-and-death scenario, I could find no humor in dodging hot lead as my friends and lovers bounced and skipped around likewise.

Summoning magic into myself, I took a leap to avoid a new volley of flying lead but instead of landing a few feet away, I was propelled meters above the combat theater. My descent and landing were amplified magically, allowing me slam into the earth with the power of a bunk buster. The resultant shock wave, which all the ponies avoided with the simple expedience of a well timed jump, lifted the APCs and the troops pouring out of the them. Several pairs of the armored vehicles crashed into each other; many flew backwards past the veil and back into array of soldiers beyond. I heard the panicked screaming as the dodged the multi-ton metal monsters.

“Everypony okay?” I called out.

“I am fine,” Twilight said, “anypony else?”

“We’re good, Sugarcube,” AJ yelled, “cain’t say the same fer our foes.”

“I’m five-by-five,” Pinkie saluted.

“Present and accounted for, dahling,” Rarity said, “although I never knew you could do that!”

“It’s a little new to me, too,” I replied, “but let’s not knock it. Lyra, Bonnie?”

“We’re good,” Bon-Bon cried, “Lyra could be better…”

“I’m fine,” Lyra said, with little inflection in her voice, “somepony tried to grab my horn.”

“And you were brilliant,” Bonnie beamed, “what was that spell you used?”

“It’s-” Lyra began, some emotion now creeping in her voice, “it doesn’t matter.”

“Ly-” Bonnie began but her marefriend gave her a baleful look, so she stopped.

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“We are here,” Princess Luna said, “Miss Longbow and Miss Whispers are fine.”

The two mares in question trotted out of Luna’s shadow, none the worse for wear.

“Oh, good,” I exhaled, “with all those bullets flying-”

“Let not down your guard, Sir Steven,” Luna cried, “the enemy comes to assail us again!”

“What?!”

My exclamation was punctuated by an APC, larger than the rest, plunging through the flames and veil. Or at least it looked like an APC-

“TANK!” I cried, though my bellow was washed out by the main cannon firing. My companions saw the round launching, long as a wagon wheel and about as round. Luna, Twilight, Rainbow, and Longbow took flight; Rarity was caught in Lyra’s teleport spell, which encapsulated Bonbon. Pinkie Pie, Applejack and myself dodged the blast, though I swear I saw Pinkie rolling a dodecahedron for initiative. Disord phased in and out of reality, the shell passing through his incorporeal form.

The tank rumbled on, it’s treads easily parting the flames and piercing the veil. A coaxial gun sitting aside the main gun let loose with a barrage of rounds. Again, my companions and I scrambled to evade the onslaught. I performed the shockwave jump again; it had little effect. The tank, as heavy as it was, was shifted back a foot or two, but the main gun trained itself on me, as did the co-ax, and both reported on my general location. I was not there; Mercury’s Alacrity had me running underneath the fire line of both weapons. Titan’s Boon gave me strength enough to smash into the forward armor of the beast. I put a dent in it, and managed to break a few bones in my hand, which was enough to cause some mild panic in the tank’s operators. One such soldier popped up from the top hatch and I met him with a water assisted kick. He ascended from the tank, over the veil and flaming barrier, and back into his fellows on the other side. A blast of magic struck the tank, and when I turned back to look, Twilight’s horn was smoking.

She followed up with a subsequent blast, aided in part by Luna’s arcane power and the tank was pushed back. Applejack, seeing the monstrous weapons platform stopped and being pushed back, ran up to the vehicle. I saw her and knew what she had planned. I outstretched my non-broken hand, gripped a forehoof when she proffered it, and swung her up onto the tank’s body, just under the cannon. She startled a little, as the beast lurched forward under the sustained attack of the two alacorns, reared back when her balance was reacquired, and bucked the main cannon. It bent with a screech, at an acute angle that prevented the weapon from firing. One of the troopers within saw this, exited the tank from the hatch, and aimed an automatic rifle at her.

To my surprise, Jackie didn’t so much as flinch, as she jumped up to the soldier, punched him with a forehoof, and then bucked him in the face. The sickening crack of his jaw reverberated throughout the arena; his weapon fell as he clutched his now broken mandible with both hands. Following suite, I joined Jackie on the top of the tank and threw a nasty left cross at him. He crumpled from the impact and fell back into the tank to swears and loud shouts. Using the last of Titans Boon’s power, I further bent the main cannon, and stomped on the coaxial gun, thus rendering the tank impotent. A final push, that required Jackie and I to evacuate the machine, and the alacorn’s arcane might pushed it past the veil once more.

“I’ll doubt they’ll try that again-” I started, before my words caught in my throat; another tank had roared in from behind. It’s coaxial gun roared, causing both ponies and myself to scramble once more. In my panicked evasion, I saw a butter yellow streak fly past. I had nary enough time to warn Fluttershy of the tank before the main gun fired. The explosion of the shell on the ground deafened me; I lost sight of much everything, my sight darkened. I was told later that I had fainted for a moment or two; I have no reason to disbelieve, for what I saw next is permanently etched onto my mind: Princess Luna and Fluttershy, lying atop one another, coats sooted and trickles of blood oozing from numerous lacerations along their bodies and from their ears.

And I was seized with fury…

I’m- not sure where the sword came from. I’m not sure where the red, red rage emerged. Something primal, born of mystical power and steeped in the fury of countless generations, flowed into me. I had become death, Destroyer of Worlds; my wrath was both terrible and awesome in scope. I wish I could forget all that I had done… but my recollection of that battle is flawless from that point on. While my body had been weakened by continuous combat, I now felt as if every nerve and sinew in my body was thoroughly alight with such righteous indignation as to make the Devil himself quake.

I rushed the tank, sword in hand, bellowing in my vengeance. The sword cleaved the tank in two; it had hardly touched the outer ceramic armor with it's tip before the machine split in twain. Two soldiers within were equally as cleaved; I could see their entrails spilling and blood spewing upon their fellows. The other troops within tried desperately to crawl away from my seething visage; they were not lucky enough to do so. Magic imbued within my muscles, I threw the pieces of the tank aside, leaving the enemy forces within to slump into the halves, before I brought them back together in a telekinetic sling, smashing the pieces into a small ball. None survived.

Two more tanks and six more APCs drive in, the ponies still in shock at both the condition of the Lunar Goddess and their friend as well as my now rampant state. I strode to the nearest tank, holding the sword aloft. Three quick swings and the tanks was shredded, all within sliced and diced within. Several troops disgorged from the nearby APCs lay witness to the desolation. They stood stock still, hoping that I would not see them. My dash to their transport included bringing my blade to bear, lightning arcing along my frame, at a velocity impossible to perform by the average human. Those troops standing in my path were rent in twain; I left none standing as I approached the carrier.

Jumping under the auspices of Zephyr’s Gift, I slashed at the cabin of carrier; the driver, passenger, and drive train of the vehicle, split in two. A magma enhanced kick and punch later, the rest of the APC was naught but molten slag, the screams of the soldiers inside falling on deaf ears. I am vengeance, I chanted, I am Equilibrium!

A burst of plasma from my hand had rendered three other APCs into mighty explosions; a second plasma blast melted the other tank and set the last of the APCs ablaze. A trooper who evaed my onslaught staggered from a burning carrier, still in flames; I rewarded him for tenacity by disemboweling him. For an added measure, I tore his spine from his body and ran it though what was left of his ruined torso. I am vengeance; I am Equilibrium!

In my rampage, I saw Dischord carry Fluttershy and Luna away from the battlefield in a teleport flash and return in the same instance, his face filled with menace. I had nearly forgotten that My Butterfly was a dear friend of his. He joined me in combat, his Chaotic Magic aiding my assault. We ravaged those that managed to get past the veil over the husks of the vehicles sent in. There was much decapitation, disemboweling, and quartering to be had. I am Death; come unto me and face your judgement!

I’m not sure when the heavy artillery made it past the veil, but the explosions caught neither Discord or myself off guard. Instead, our focus bent toward those troopers bearing mortar launchers and rocket launchers. Discord sent a wave, a literal wave, of swords against a squad of them; I, however met the artillery with a casting of Immolata, reducing the troopers to dust and their weapons to white hot slag. One trooper managed to get off a bazooka round off but as it passed near Discord, the personification of chaos merely caught the round and spun it towards me. I vanished it back at the bazooka wielding soldier, who was still reloading his weapon, in time to see him explode in a shower of ichor.

More troops began to pour into the arena and I was glad to see my pony friends had evacuated the scene; the battle now was only for us killers. I had a feeling, even in my fury, that I would get some rather disturbed reactions following this day to my presence. Those were wiped away when I saw a platoon of troops hell bent for leather towards the castle. A new spell came to mind, Consumption, and I cast it not knowing its effects. The troopers were within meters of the portcullis but never made it there; the spell hit them with a darkened, buzzing cloud. In seconds, the flesh from their bodies was eaten away. I could hear Discord laughing, in triumph or in revelry, I neither knew nor cared.

Seeing some of their fellows cut down so easily, more platoons made their way towards me, weapons drawn and firing. I easily deflected their shots using a combination of an accuracy jinx and an interdiction cantrip. I then lit them up with Illuminaria, a lightning spell. I’ve never liked the smell of burnt flesh, for I have some knowledge of what it smells like, but the sizzling sound and roiling odor of the troopers deaths was the finest thing I had ever experienced at the moment. The more troops that arrayed against me, the more inventive attacks I used to stop or kill them, mostly killing them.

Flames, wind, water, ice, earthen tremblors, jagged metal spires, erupting fissures of lava, tottering granite golems, bolts of lightning, searing acid rain, shearing tornados and blistering desert heat I threw at them. And when the enemy came too close, the sword in my hand lashed out, cleaving and rending bodies into pieces. Later on, Discord would relate that I was laughing all the while, on a maniacal high of mayhem and murder. I had no cause to doubt him either for I remembered it all, in sickening detail. AT one point, I acquired a piece of their ordinance, a curious rifle which loaded magazines in the back of the weapon. I using that as both a ballistic weapon and as a cudgel for foes too close to shoot at.

The more foes that emerged, the more often my spells were loosed, felling large groups of them. Hand That Mourns earlier lesson, about humans in number being riots, came to mind. I also thought ruefully that I was a one man riot myself. I was feeling eighteen feet tall and bulletproof, with sparks of magic and other powers scorching my nemesis’ forces it was no wonder I was experiencing those sensations. Later recounts of the battle had me grinning ear to ear, cackling madly. Indeed, I was afraid I was going mad, allowing all that arcane energy to course through me and strike at those that opposed me.

After a time, the troops stopped coming in teams. I had made the assumption that they had planned a withdrawal, but that assumption was turned to ashes as another squadron of tanks and APCs punched thru the veil. The turret of the tanks fired at us, the explosions of the shells casting a haze of gunsmoke across the battlefield. The fusillade of shells was followed immediately by machine gun fire, the staccato bursts of the guns rendering all other sound mute.There was a part of me that was thrilled they had unleashed this last desperate salvo. I was looking forward to witnessing their shocked faces when I emerged with my chaotic compatriot from the barrage with nary a scratch between us.

Indeed, when the smoke finally cleared, I heard several surprised gasps when neither Discord or myself appeared as anything less than hale and hearty. Although, as I looked upon Discord, he was started to look a little haggard, for reason that escaped me at the moment. My attention to his well being was disrupted when one of the tanks fired it's turret again. I stopped the shell from reaching us in a grip of telekinetic mastery that geeks the world over would scream “TETSUO!” in unison.

I displaced the shell to the other end of the battlefield so it smashed into another tank. It subsequently bloomed into a fireball, filling the air with shrapnel. Discord and I once again engaged the enemy, through Discord was moving much slower than earlier before. I myself was moving like I hadn’t since I was an elementary school student, slashing at a nearby APC and shouting “CONSUMPTION!” to all in my way. Several of the vehicles affected rusted to nothing on the spot, their occupants decaying to dust in an instant. I blocked several shots fired my way and returned many more back to their point of discharge. Watching a coaxial gun explode in a spray of steel and fire was very satisfying.

Some of the APCs had turrets on them, though smaller than those of the tanks, and those started firing on me. I danced between the shells they fired and sent some back to their owners. I saw one of the returned shells fly up back to it's discharging turret, impact a shell ready to fire, and the whole APC detonate loudly. It was glorious! The enemy tried spacing their fire, but I was reacting to them much faster than they hope to cope with. I flipped over two tanks with ease and smashed another APC like a soda can. At the time, I had no idea where all this new found power was coming from, but I reveled in it.

At this point, and to my utter astonishment, I saw several machines emerge through the veil, like something out of Aliens (Like the cargo loader Ellen Ripley used to fight the Xenomorph Queen.) blended with the mechs seen in Avatar. I had no idea such a thing existed, even though I had seen and read reports of similar automatons in recent news. Things like Asimov the Robot, and such things like exoskeletal frames for use by invalid seniors and disabled people. These were similar constructions, but bearing heavy weaponry which were all trained on me.

The reports of their guns was deafening enough and no soundproofing charm had kept the sound out. I staggered as my interdiction held fast against the barrage but had to quickly dodge an attack from my flank as one of the automations drew near with a combat knife the size of a Lincoln Navigator. I escaped the slash that one made but was nearly caught by another as it jumped (JUMPED?!) at me. The next attack I caught, although my magical enhancements were starting to wear off. I held onto the blade wielded by the mech and as I did so, I caught a face glaring at me from the perspex of the machine’s canopy. It Captain Norris, of all people!

His face was alight in malice, made even more gruesome and garish by the fluorescent lamps under lighting his features. He screamed, through in the cacophony of the battle around me, I could hardly hear a word he said. It was my last stand, with the mechs closing in all around and my friends holed up in the castle listening in on the frightful assault. With every last ounce of my arcane power I could muster, I cast one last spell, Ultima. I could feel the heat of the curse as it unleashed, the light it produced washing out features from the scene around me. In my head, I heard the cries of my enemies as the spell roared, disassembling their armor, weapons, and even their bodies at the subatomic level.

When the curse had done it’s work, the light and sound subsided, revealing an empty arena. Oh, the castle still stood, and those assembled within trotted out to see the conclusion. I heard them screaming, clamoring towards me as they exited; I was in no shape to tell, though, if their cries were of panic, derision, admonishment, or joy. The power I was feeling before was fading, my mind was lagging terribly. I couldn’t keep upright for very long and when I finally succumbed to my weariness and injuries (And I was pretty badly injured, too.) it was to welcome darkness, my old friend…

---

I spent an inordinate amount of time between fitful alertness and blank unconsciousness. I heard muted conversation as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I may have lain asleep for hours or even minutes, but I couldn’t tell. Time as a relative aspect of life was a concept I could not grasp in the state I was in. When I finally did awake, I felt like I was 127; I tried to get up and regretted doing so, for I then felt more like 1,027.

“He’s awake?!” Came somepony. I heard the rumble of many horseshoes before a single set scrambled forward and declared, “Back off! He’s my patient!”

I heard grumbling, including AJ pointedly telling the pony from before, a mare I think, that she was his fiancee. The pony, who my narrow and limited vision told me was Nurse Redheart, didn’t seem too concerned about that. She proceeded to put a flashlight to my eyes, making me wince (I was in something of a coma, I guess) then she whacked my elbow and knee with a hammer, which hurt and caused me to spasm. After checking my heartrate and prodding my mouth open with a tongue depressor, she declared, “All clear. You may approach, but one at a time!”

Slowly, I saw AJ approach, a hoof removing her hat.

“How you doin’, Sugarcube?” She asked.

“I feel like I got hit by a Mack truck- or got bucked in the chest by Big Mac,” I replied, “What happened? Where’s Luna and Fluttershy?”

“Flutters is fine,” AJ answered, a smile on her face, “she and The Princess were scraped up somethin’ awful, but yer ghosty friend had some halp patchin’ ‘em up. Right as rain they are now, though if’n Ah don’ tell Flutters yet awake, she gonna tan my hide, bless her.”

“I don’t think she’d do anything of the sort,” I said, “wait, she isn’t here?”

“She had to step out a bit,” AJ answered, “she’s been comin’ in every so often between takin’ care of ya and her critters-”

She stopped short of telling me how long I was out for.

“AJ,” I ask, “how long was I out for?”

My Apple Blossom doesn’t answer, but a nearby pony does, “Eight days.”

I know the voice of Twilight anywhere, but her answer still astounds me.

“Eight days?!”

I see AJ step aside while Twilight comes into my field of vision, “Yes, eight days. We-we were really worried about you. You saved our lives… I know Fluttershy has been beside herself with worry.”

“I can imagine,” I utter, as I try to sit up but I am brought back down by Redheart’s hoof. The look she gives me says I’m not going anywhere.

“Was- was anypony else hurt? I didn’t see Lyra, Bonbon, Whispers or Longbow after that shell exploded…”

“They’re fine,” Twilight says, “they went back to town. Lyra and Bonbon will be delighted to hear you’re awake again. Whispers and Longbow have been scouring the Everfree for more signs of the hoomans. No luck, fortunately.”

“Unfortunately,” Hand That Mourns added, “that also means that no means of transit has been found, as well. The Proletariat had discovered a means of coming here and in force. It is imperative that such a transit system to be taken offline, permanently.”

“Exactly,” Twilight agreed, “before more of those hoomans arrive and cause more destruction.”

“What about their vehicles?” I query, “the tanks, the carriers? Were there any clues left in them?”

A new voice adds itself to the crowd, “Not that we found, although after your spell, there were very few left to investigate.”

“I’m sure you did all you could, Spike,” Twilight assured, “these Proletariat ponies were thorough in covering their tracks.”

“Spike?” I inquire and as Twilight pulls back, a new being emerges in my sight, larger than I ever remember him being.

“Dude, wah-?”

“I think,” the now grown Spike says, “it was your magic. You were throwing spells left, right, and center. One of them, I think it might have been something to bolster our retreat, caused me to grow. My mind hasn’t completely caught up yet, but it’s only been more than a week. I’ll be fine.”

“My Spikey-wikey will,” Rarity said, sidling up to the now physically matured drake, “through your transformation is a lot less- traumatic than the last time, I can’t say I can argue with the results.”

“Stop it, Rarity, you’re going to make me blush,” Spike says, leaning down to kiss the fawning unicorn mare on her crown. Her muzzle glows a deep crimson to his affections.

“Not that it matters much,” Rainbow adds, “but the rest of us are fine, too.”

“I kinda figured, Dash,” I muse, “you still have your wings, I hope.”

“Eeyup!” The speedster quips, “lost some feathers in the fight, but nothing that would affect performance.”

“Good to hear,” I reply, “I’d hate to see you miss out on Wonderbolt glory.”

Dash beamed, completely missing my sarcasm, though,and given my current state, I doubt I could get much inflection in. I was also hurting that My Butterfly wasn’t here. She had a valid excuse but the heart wants what it wants. And right now, it wanted that little ball of sunshine that was Fluttershy. Some more discussion took place as I lay there. At length, Redheart brought me a glass of water to sip on. Seeing as I was comatose for eight days, I wasn’t at all surprised by how thirsty I was.

An hour after I awoke, Fluttershy zooms in, wrapping me in a breath stealing hug. I see tears in her eyes, I can hear her thanking Celestia, Luna, and practically every deity known to ponykind for my life. It’s both endearing and heartbreaking; as I look upon her further, I see some bandages on top of her coat, on wing is wrapped up tightly, and there is stitches over one eye. Otherwise, she is fine. Oh, God, the smell of her! I could drink that in by the barrelfull.

“Oh, Stevie, you had me so worried!” She cries in my ear.

“You had me worried, too, Butterfly,” I tell her, “flying into the battle like that. Are you okay? You look like you got scraped up a bit.”

“I’m okay,” Fluttershy said, “I was hurt when that- thing exploded, but I have had worse when addressing the wounds of my animal friends.”

I stare at my fiancee and said, “Dang Flutters, you are hard core!”

Her blushing cheeks and awkward grin tell me plenty she’s taking my words as a compliment.

“She is not the only one who is ‘hard core,’ as you put it.”

Fluttershy moved aside, her tears slowing but still evident and who should move into my view but Princess Luna.

“You showed yourself a valiant knight, Sir Steven,” the Lunar Goddess said, “although your actions have some rather dire implications. You did manage to save my life and the lives of others. For that, you have my eternal gratitude.”

“You’re welcome, Blue,” I said, “I was- concerned when that shell blew. I almost thought you were dead. Just how close did it come to hitting you?”

“Too close,” Luna answers, “I had a shield up in time, but it was so quick and powerful, it nearly rendered my shield moot. I do not remember hoomans possessing weaponry of this kind.”

“The last time you saw them on this planet, they didn’t,” I reply, “they aren’t new, though. Back home, they’ve had ‘em for a few centuries. The Empire used to have ‘em, but they were discarded in favor of directed energy ordinance. Still, those tanks are dangerous. I hope to never see things like that again.”

“Indeed,” Blue said, “by the way, methinks this is yours.”

In her aura, Luna brings forth a black, lacquered scabbard. She brings it to me and the reaction of the other ponies is immediate. They are deathly afraid of what’s in this thing. I clutch when it comes close enough; I pull on the hilt of the sword to see a finely crafted katana. This is strange, because the last time I saw this sword, it was clearly a rapier of some kind. Did it change somehow while I was out? Did Luna do something to it?

“What gives?” I ask, “This was a rapier before…”

“We- I mean, I am uncertain,” Luna answers, “I have some- vague recollection of you wielding a rapier like weapon. When I recovered from my injuries, it was now in the form you see before you.”

“Huh,” I wonder, “hey, where’s Discord? He would would have seen the sword I used before.”

“He’s recovering,” Fluttershy said, “he was really wiped out from the fighting. He said he’s never been so drained before.”

“Drained?”

“Surely you would have seen it, dahling,” Rarity answered, “the poor dear… I may not be a fan of his antics, but when he pulled us from the field, he was so haggard. It was like his life force was- sucked right out of him!”

“He did look exhausted,” Spike added, “the longer he was fighting, the more and more it looked like he was expending himself. And this from a guy who turned Ponyville into his own personal playground.”

“Spike!” Fluttershy admonished.

“I know, I know,” the drake relented, “we don’t talk about past misdeeds. I was just saying.”

“You know,” I remarked, “I did notice that he was looking more and more exhausted after he brought Fluttershy and Blue to the castle. He was progressively getting more and more tired the longer he was fighting- along side me.”

“Sir Steven?” Luna asked.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute- If what Hand told me is true,” I began, “then- You see, humans, we don’t have a mana reserve…”

“Which is strange,” Twilight added, “because you’ve been using a lot of magic before and yet I’ve never seen you exhaust your mana supply before.”

“Would help if I had one,” I say, “something else Hand said, or at least theorized, was that human mages siphoned their mana from their environment. So, if I was slinging magic all during the battle-?”

“Then-” Fluttershy began, “you- you should had a source for it, right?”

I nod, “Now this begs the question of why I was in a coma for the last eight days.”

“I believe I can answer that,” Hand That Mourns calls out, “I have managed to ‘pierce the veil,’ as it were and discovered some rather interesting things about the workings of House Endymion.”

“Hand?” I ask, “Did you just acquire some mad hacking skills?”

“I am uncertain of what you mean,” Hand answered, “but, during my researches, I had uncovered some hidden protocols that would allow me to remove any redaction of files. Mind you, there are several googleplexes worth of data I have yet to mine, but some of the things I have uncovered are concerning your- rehabilitation.”

“Well, Hand, don’t leave me in suspense,” I state, “lay it on me.”

“Of course, Archmage,” Hand says, “according to what data I was able to recover, the vast sum of which is still in the recovery process, I have determined that what you suffered from a condition known as ‘magic poisoning.’”

“Magic poisoning?” I query, “That- doesn’t sound fun. Can you explain further?”

“Indeed,” Hand continues, “according to notes published by Archmage Soledad, magic poisoning is the result of a mage leaning too heavily on side of the arcane scale. In her example, she had fostered an ever increasing dependence on harmonious energy and thus, her body was unable to keep itself in proper equilibrium.”

“And equilibrium is necessary,” I reply, “to being the Key Arcane. The Archmage is as much the keeper of magical lore as they are the fulcrum of all magical prowess in the Empire. Without it…”

Hand finishes that thought for me, “Equilibrium falters and as a result, the Empire begins to stagnate and fail.”

“So, no pressure,” I quip.

Hand gives me a look that suggests I should keep my mouth shut.

“So,” I follow, “how do I prevent another bout of magic poisoning? Is there a device or a wearable meter I need to have on me, pacemaker style?”

“Yes,” Hand replies, simply, “look to your shoulder.”

I do and sitting there is a curious emblem. The emblem takes the shape of a crescent moon, overlapped by a waning moon, on top of which there is a four point star. The star is goldenrod in color, the waning moon is white where it isn’t shaded, but the crescent moon is what grabs my attention. The memories of my predecessors tell me that the crescent moon should be white in color, like bright platinum, but what I see is the crescent partially colored in with pure gold.

“Is that- supposed to happen?” I ask.

“Curious,” Twilight says as she nears me, “I hadn’t really noticed that after you- went under, but now that I look at it, I swear I could have seen more gold in the crescent.”

“She’s right,” Flutters remarks, “when you were first brought in, that crescent was all gold. Now only a little remains.”

I take all this in while Archmage Soledad explains why she embedded the Sigil of House Endymion into the Archmage’s robes and what it means when the sigil changes colors.

“Okay, I think I understand now,” I say, “the sigil, not just the crescent moon, is an indication of my arane displacement; too much harmony or chaos and I can really make myself seriously sick. If I’m too chaotic or orderly, my equilibrium gets thrown off and it can disrupt my magic- And because I am now a being of almost absolute arcane energy, if my magic gets disrupted, I can- end.”

Several gasps fill the room, but the most heart wrenching are those of Applejack and Fluttershy. Even though I’m still in a haze and most of my cognitive functionality hasn’t quite returned to nominal, I find it rather curious that Luna’s expression is the most horrific of all my friends here. An inquiry for another day, for sure, although it astounds me that she would react this way. We are friends, granted, but, could she be harboring some other emotion? My emotional illiteracy is going to be the death of me yet…

Mind you, that doesn’t stop me from accepting a veritable wall of fur in the form of hugs. The warmth of this love and affection is- is very touching. On any other day, I wouldn’t know how to respond to this, especially since it’s such a physical display. Now, I just hug back with whomever I can reach. I- I don’t want to risk putting my friends though this sort of heartache again…

“AHEM!”

Nurse Redheart’s throat clearing broke up the fur pile, and sent those who weren’t biblically familiar with me to scatter. The good nurse set to taking my temperature, got a bead on my resting heart rate, checked my once shot reflexes (surprise, they have made an excellent comeback since landing here, even in the prosthetic leg,) check my retinal response, and have me perform a minor stress test to see if my body was recovering well from my ordeal. When it was all over, Nurse Redheart declared I was fit as a fiddle, with only some mild stress fractures in my hand which struck the tank. Apparently, my magic was healing those off as I was fighting, though that could have been the massive adrenal dump I took during the fight, too.

I was let go of my own recognizance, much to Jackie’s and Flutter’s delight. They lead my home as the rest of the group broke off her their homes, save for Princess Luna, who wanted to speak to me about something. As her dear friend, I guess this was to be expected. We had nearly died in the midst of that battle and yet, here we were, a medium set of lumps to show for all that effort. Not that I would ever get involved in a brouhaha like that again. I prefer having all of my precious lifeblood within me, not without. In any case, the Lunar regent followed us along as we returned to Sweet Apple Acres and The Wolf Den. I was really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again.

“AH sure am glad yer all bet’r now,” Jackie explained, “Flutters and Ah were plum loco not knowin’ when you were gonna get up!”

Fluttershy added, “My critters were worried; they had never seen me that depressed before, well, except for that time I turned mean after that lecture form Iron Will.”

“Remind that I have to meet that guy,” I told My Butterfly, “I have to thank him for making you more assertive and beat the crap out of him for making you doubt yourself.”

Fluttershy grinned while shaking her head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Really, I don’t think I can right now,” I honestly answered, “I’m sore all over. It’s like a locomotive smashed into me at full speed, minus the lethal damage. Methinks that’ll be the last major fight I’ll be involved in.”

“Nev’r say nev’r,” Applejack quipped, “ya’ll ain’t seein’ inta the future none, so ya’ll cain’t say fer sure.”

“I guess you’re right, Jackie,” I replied, “ugh, not that I want to get mixed up in another fight; magic or no, combat takes a lot out of a body. Especially my body!”

“We could help with that, couldn’t we, Jackie?” Fluttershy opines.

“We sure could!” AJ exclaims with a devilish grin.

“I dunno girls,” I say, “after this whole ordeal, I’m mighty wrecked.”

“Oh, dontcha worry one,” Jackie replies, “we gonna take care of ya rightly.”

“I do believe that will be my cue to leave,” Princess Luna adds, “but first, if I may, would it be alright if I borrowed your fiancee for a moment?”

“Uh, sure,” Flutters says, to which Jackie adds, “so long as ya don’t break ‘im.”

“I shan’t” Luna replies, then she turns to me, “let us walk awhile.”

I nod and follow Luna. It’s a relatively short amble down a unused lane that runs parallel to Sweet Apple Acres, but it’s far enough off the more trafficked routes to where we’ll be unheard. It’s a perfect stretch of road for a private conversation or for an ambush. With Luna, I can never be sure if it’s one or the other. So I wait for her to start.

“My sister,” she begins, “she will have questions about what has happened.”

“No doubt,” I rejoinder, “a major assault made in her own realm while her co-ruler assists in driving back the unwashed hordes must a mighty big pill to swallow. I expect she has plenty to inquire of me and lot’s of blame to throw around, too.”

“Indeed,” Luna responds, “and I will do my best to deflect as much of the blame as possible.”

“Why?” I ask, “this was between me and the Proletariat. Those traitors were trying to disappear me and were more than willing to kill anyone or anypony that stood in their way. I did what I had to do to protect everypony. I didn’t like doing it but…”

“I understand,” Luna says, then she comes closer, “but I doubt my sister will. She does not trust you, even more so since the Grand Galloping Gala. She and humanity have- issues, as the common pony says nowadays.”

“Is that why every potential mention of humanity or the Terran Empire has been redacted through Equestrian Literature?”

Luna nods, “She has removed as much of humanity’s presence here in Equestria and beyond as she could. There was a time, as she explained it to me, that she would expel any student in her school for even asking about humans.”

“Damn,” I murmur, “did Sunset Shimmer get the same treatment?”

“Neigh, she did not,” Luna replies, “her- expulsion, as it were, was for an altogether more sinister reason.”

“What, she ate the last of Celestia’s cakes?” I joke.

Luna laughs very heartily; after the events of a week ago, a laugh was needed. When she finally brings herself to quiet tittering, she answers my question with all seriousness.

“Neigh, Sunset’s crime was far more dire. She usurped the power of the Alicorns and attempted to overthrow my sister from power.”

I’m shocked to hear such a thing…

“Whoa,” I blurt out, “you mean to tell me she ran an unsuccessful coup against Celestia?!”

Luna nods, “She did. Her penance has been partially served; she now is under the tutelage of young Twilight. My sister believes that that mare will prove an effective foil for Sunset’s ambitions.”

“One can only hope,” I say, then, “but Sunset knows an awful lot about The Terran Empire. She told me so herself. And I know she can saw ‘human’ properly but she mispronounces it on purpose to get dicks up.”

“You’re joking,” Luna states before seeing my ‘serious’d’ face, “you are not joking. Hmm. That is somewhat troubling… Lieutenant Heartstrings has always held a fascination for humanity but she has always been one on the fringe even if she has been right about the Crown suppressing about humanity. It took me forever to get Tia to condescend to allow any articles written about you to published.”

“It was bound to get out, anyway, right?”

Luna’s nod confirms my guess, “In any case, she works under the assumption that you are here to bring about disaster. Nothing her student, her friends, or even myself has said will convince her otherwise.”

“I see,” I murmur, “when do you think she’ll send for me?”

“I do not know,” Luna admits, “but I will delay her as best I can. Until then, do I have your word you will not seeking trouble?”

“You have it, yes,” I reply, “but if trouble happens to find me, I bear no responsibility for what happens.”

“Agreed,” Luna says, “given that your domicile is in Ponyville, trouble is bound to come up every once in awhile. I would not hold that against you; just do not seek out danger.”

“Given what I just went through,” I respond, “I have had enough risk and toil for one lifetime. I’m going to spend some downtime getting myself back to 100% and then after that, I’m going to treat my mares.”

Beaming, Luna replies, “That sounds like an excellent idea! I would join you, but alas, I have duties to fulfill in Canterlot and my sister would have my flank if I didn’t report in on time.”

I start a little from the way she says this, “You’d like to join in with us?”

A look of surprise crosses Luna’s face before she says, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t think that through- What I meant was, I would love to join you, Fluttershy, and Applejack on an outing. Just friends, having fun! How is it the commoners say it? ‘Decompressing?’”

I nod, “Yeah, that might be fun. Someday soon, when we don’t have world threatening events to worry about.”

“I shall consider that an open invitation,” Luna retorts with a broad smile, then, “well, I shall be off. I do hope your rest is very- invigorating.”

“Oh, I have high hopes for that, Blue,” I reply, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“At that, you shall,” Luna says before nuzzling me, “farewell, friend Steven.”

And with that, Luna takes to the sky. I watch for a few moments, as her beautiful coat and mane turn to coal black into the distance. She has halfway to Canterlot before I lose sight of her in the sun. When I do lose her, I turn back to the road and make my way towards Sweet Apple Acres; en route, I’m intercepted by Flutters and AJ, who were looking for me.

“Oh, there you are!” Fluttershy exclaims, “I told you he was okay.”

“Ah, shucks, Sugarcube,” AJ mutters, “here Ah was thinkin’ Princess Luna was givin’ ya a ear rakin’, headsplittin’ lecture.”

“No, it was nothing that bad,” I report, “Luna just wanted to discuss what she was going to tell her sister. Apparently, Celestia wants a full report about everything that has happened, including anything I have done, and from what I’ve gathered, Blue has been running interference until I was conscious again.”

“That- don’t sound like any princess Ah know,” Jackie replied, “why Princess Luna do that?”

“Search me,” I responded, “but she also informed me that Celestia is out for my hide. Apparently she has a mad on about humans and as such is watching like a hawk. I have an idea that some of Ponyville’s newest residents are here to keep tabs on me exclusively.”

“That don’t seem right,” AJ retorted, “but Ah have seen an influx in ponies here in town. DO you think?”

“I don’t know,” Fluttershy said, “we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“I agree.” I add, “until more concrete evidence comes to light, we’ll work under the assumption that Ponyville’s is because of it’s charm and and the friendly neighborhood ponies.”

“Ah’ll drink to that,” AJ comments, “so, what say we git on home and start gettin’ to relaxin’?”

“Tally ho!”

---

From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number 111:

We didn’t get into sexy times as much as Flutters and AJ wanted to with me. After getting home, and grabbing a bath, I conked out while still laying in the tub. The mares had to drag me out, so I was told later, and put me to bed. They didn’t think to put me back into my clothes, so I woke up the next day cold and naked. It is not a state I prefer or recommend.

One of the many less than desirable aspects of magic poisoning I discovered is a weakened constitution. A day after returning home, I caught the nastiest cold. It’s probably best I don’t regale with my condition at that time. (And I sure as Hell am not going to recite for you.) IN any case, it was the most miserable and longest cold I’ve ever fought off.

Jackie and Fluttershy were by my side during that infection, being more solicitous than usual. I guess after the coma and now this cold, they wanted to be sure I was back in perfect health. Jackie would bring in her choicest pick of apples and bake me the tastiest of apple pies. I was like being back home with my mom all over again. The apple farmer would have warm apple cider for my every meal; she even designated herself as my physical therapist, working my limbs over while I recuperated. (And I thought my body was sore during workouts before!)

Fluttershy would tuck me in tight with thicken, woolen blankets, feed me soup (I don’t like soup much but whatever she made was pretty damn good, ) she would give me sponge baths, and groom me down, even though I was still strong enough to do so for myself. She would sing me to sleep every night and sing me awake every morning while I was sick. That ugly little part of my brain that was telling me I was hallucinating whilst in a coma was coming back in force; Fluttershy’s ministrations reminded me of times when my mom would tend to me while I was fraught with bronchitis or pneumonia.

Even creepier than that was this idea that I was undergoing some bizarre oedipus complex hallucination, where Flutters and Jackie were stand ins for my mother. The less said about that, the better. The very last thing I wanted was some pastel colored Total Recall event (the 1990 movie, not the superior 2012 version)to play out. Although, given how much local opposition I was facing, I had my doubts such a thing would ever happen. Never say never, though…

I did get over my cold eventually, but my magic was slow to return. This is what I discovered was the “burn out” phase of magic poisoning recovery. It came to my understanding that my body, up until now, was enhancing my nominal immunity response to pathogens and bacteria but now that I had overdid, arcane wise, I was now in a state of “normal.” What that meant was I was back to the way I was before coming here. I was powerless, weak, a highly susceptible to injury and illness. (The cold I got shortly afterward being evidence to that.)

Now I had to slowly rebuild my arcane equilibrium so that I could begin casting again. You may wonder why I had to do that. Well, as it turns out, Terran Imperial citizens are, well, they cannot exist without their inherent magic. From my observations, Imperial citizens life force runs exclusively on arcane energies and when such energies are disrupted or nullified, it can result in death. That was why I slipped into a coma; my body now doesn’t know how to function with a lack of magic prowess. That would be bad news if I ever have another bout of magic poisoning, which is why I intend to never get that far out of balance again.

Now, I don’t know if this explains the abundance of magical abilities of the Equestrians, but I am getting the distinct notion that is why the Proletariat had such disdain for them. That house may have had it's fair share of xenophobia and spite, but I also think they were jealous of the Equestrians natural inclination for thaumaturgy. If what I’ve read from the Imperial Ecumene is correct, especially the redacted parts Hand was able to recover, then House Proletariat lacked the sort of arcane abilities the rest of the Empire had. According to an ancient codex file hidden in the depths of The Ecumene, The Proletariat were exclusively, via their genetics, cursed with an inclination to Chaos. No other Imperial House had that.

This adds a new worry for me. If the Proletariat were as sufficiently proficient in technology as the other Houses, then they may seek to correct their arcane flaw through artificial means. And the ponies would be an excellent source material for such experiments! Once I had this realization, I wrote to Luna about it. I detailed all that I gathered concerning the Proletariat and some of my findings in regards to the earlier incursion of Proletariat troops. I hope this scenario never comes to pass, but I don’t believe my arch-nemeses will give up so easy.

---

The Canterlot Palace:

Fall had come to Canterlot with a brisk, chill wind. The Canterlot Weather Patrol had been busy with autumn preparations and were now implementing them throughout the city. Citizens of the mountainside city had already accustomed themselves to the autumnal winds and temperatures, as well as wearing seasonal accoutrements that defended against the cold. Being built into a mountain, Canterlot got colder much quicker than rest of Equestria, which is why their weather teams went last to gather snow clouds form the weather factory based in Cloudsdale.

Princess Luna didn’t mind this, though. She was perfectly suited to the cold air and chilly nights. And the lengthening of eventide meant she could play more with the stars and showcase her fabulous moon. She already had a schedule planned out for the various constellations in her night sky and had sent them for approval with the Equestrian Astronomical Society, the Royal Equestrian Navy, the Equestrian Merchant Marines, the Star Gazing Clubs of every major city and town in the kingdom and her own sister.

It had been nearly a month since the Battle of The Castle of The Royal Pony Sisters, or The Human Incident, as Tia would often call it, but even though the trauma of it all was still fresh, Luna could not help but feel playful as the Winter Equinox approached. The Lunar Regent had, as promised, did everything in considerable power to steer her sisters numerous inquiries away from that battle and the lone human’s performance during it. Luna knew it would not stop her sister form asking, but it was a delay tactic she was using until such time as she could properly process all that had happened.

Now, it seemed, that Luna’s stalling had come to an end. Celestia had commissioned an inquiry into the battle and while many of the staffers in the inquiry here able to provide varied and unique responses to Tia’s questions, they had not satisfactorily quelled her curiosity in the matter. So now, with a heavy heart and a yearning not to lie to her elder sister, Luna entered into the especially appointed inquiry chambers and faced down her sister and her quizzical panel.

As she stepped through the double doors of the chamber, she heard her sister speak.

“And now we will hear from an eyewitness to the events that unfolded on August 18th of this year which are the primary focus of this inquiry about the Human Incident: my sister, Princess Luna.”

The regal sisters exchanged a glance as the one in the judge’s seat watched the one who bore witness take her place at the podium. It was a position Luna was familiar with, albeit form the other perspective, but she was resigned to deal with this now instead of delaying the inevitable. She took to the lectern and faced the panel. An older stallion with a balding pate lead the inquiry and brought all others to attention. Luna had seen this stallion before; his name was Echoing Gavels and his reputation proceeded, even in his advanced age.

Echoing Gavels proclaimed, “For the purposes of this inquiry, and for the records of The Crown Princesses, would you state your name and titles, please?”

Luna nodded and said, “I am Princess Luna, younger sister of Princess Celestia, Co-Regent of Equestria, Bearer of the Moon, Daughter of Queen Astraeus and sired by King Eos.”

“Thank you very much,” Gavels stated, “for the panel’s records, where you or where you not involved in the events that this panel is currently investigating?”

“I was,” Luna answered.

“And for the record, were you witness to the alleged combat that place?”

“I did,” Luna replied, “though, if the panel will forgive me, there was no ‘allegedly’ about this- incident.”

“So forgiven,” Gavels stated, “I now open the panel for questioning.”

“Your Highness,” spoke a grizzled Royal Guard officer that Luna recognized as Lieutenant Bright Steel, “in the event in question, was the being known as Sir Steven Edwin Ambrose, of the Terran Empire involved?”

“Indeed he was,” Luna answered, “and I may say, he would requite himself will by your standards, Lieutenant.”

A noblemare with a dusty rose mane and wearing a sheath of lime green spoke next, “You Majesty, in your own words, was the being Steven Edwin Ambrose ever hostile to any of the ponies present during the incident.”

“Neigh, he was not,” Luna replied, “if anything, he was very protective of all those present with him. I dare say he was resigned to dutifully defend us all, even those of us here in Canterlot who were not involved in the fight at all.”

Another mare, this time with a seafoam mane and a heavy shawl of pearl spoke, “Now did or did not this hooman engage in violence the likes of which has not been seen since the days of The Old Wars? It is my understanding that he fought and terminated many of his own kind.”

“Yes that is true-” Luna began but the mare brought another question to bare, “So it is also true that, during the summer, he was involved in an earlier bout of violence that terminated some twenty of his fellow species? And that he displayed murderous tendencies which no sane pony would ever bear?”

“That- is also true,” Luna admitted.

“So, if all this is true,” a younger stallion in a turtleneck sweater asked, “then why is allowed to roam free in our lands?”

“Because there is nowhere else for him to go,” Luna stated angrily before regaining her self control, “I understand that he seems a rather contentious sort, but these bouts of violence are not against the ponies he has for neighbors. He is a taxpayer, and as far as the constables of Ponyville where he resides are concerned, he is a sane and law abiding citizen…”

“Who was, according a report by those same constables, involved in a brawl with a stallion wherein he deftly trounced said stallion in a street fight," declaimed a middle aged stallion.

“It is my understanding that Sir Steven was defending a local mare’s honor,” Luna retorted, “it is customary, form where he is from to do so.”

“How odd,” a mare in her late teens quipped, “and yet oddly romantic.”

“Dusky Quill, you have no need for your commentary, please,” Gavels stated, “excuse the personal statements, Your Highness.”

“There is no offense,” Luna replied, “I, too, share that sentiment.”

“Ahem,” Gavels cleared his throat, “back to our inquiry. Princess Luna, has there been any other instances where this hooman has given proof that he has belligerent tendencies?”

“As my understanding is concerned,” Luna states, “he is not.”

“Then maybe you can explain,” Gavels went on, “why Sir Steven has been involved in two, I repeat, two mass murder sprees?”

Luna moaned internally, shutting her eyes to the pressure of a migraine coming on and answered, “It is my understanding that Sir Steven suffers from an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. I have seen it first hand and reports from my sister's, that is Princess Celestia’s, Overwatch Squad, tell me he sees it as his duty to turn back those that would threaten those he considers his friends.”

There was a general murmur among the panelist, some expressing disbelief that a hooman would seek to protect beings that weren’t of their own species. There were others that were quizzical about the human’s actions, wondering openly why the Terran Imperial Archmage would think it had a duty to protect a pony village like Ponyville. Gavels, on the other hand, is showing no opinion whatsoever. Luna knew that the stallion was impartial in everything he did; it was one of the reasons Celestia chose him to lead this inquiry.

“That is rather surprising to hear,” Gavel spoke, instantly quieting the other panelists, “as we all know, the dragons care nothing for one another, the Diamond Dogs show only the smallest degree of loyalty to their packs. Otherwise, most Diamond Dogs simply wander the world alone. Changelings are hive species, so they know cooperation, if only to achieve a goal; rarely do those bugs gather to defend each other from threats unless their queen commands it.

“The zebra, ibex, buffalo, and cows will cooperate in mutual defense; of this we know from observation and written accounts. And yet, nearly every record that exists in the Equestrian Royal Archives shows there has never been any one species will defend another, nor is there any evidence that suggests that any hooman would willingly do so. My question to, Your Grace, is why would the archmage of a hooman nation defend beings that are not his own.”

Luna thought on this for a moment, answering, “I know not what stirred Sir Steven to rise against this threat from his own fellows although, as it was relayed to me by young Princess Twilight, Sir Steven is engaged to a pair of Ponyville’s residents.”

More murmuring broke out and this time, instead of Echoing Gave;s silencing the panel, it was a mare on the far end that Luna had not heard from yet. With a dusty grey mane and a dusky coat of orange, Luna was certain this was Madam Verdant Roan, a major player and matriarch of the influential House Roan in Cloudsdale. She in turn was flanked by a ledrfladder mare whose cutie mark she recognized at once. The mare, whose name she knew as Umbra, was from House Shywing and if she wasn’t the matron of that clan, then Luna herself was Mare Do Well.

“Engaged?” Madam Roan asked vehemently, “I know that is common in this day and age for ponies to mate with and marry non-ponies, but a hooman? And to whom is he engaged with?”

“I do believe,” Luna answered, “that Sir Steven is engaged to a Miss Jacqueline Apple and the Apple Family…”

“How suitable,” Madam Roan tittered, “an ape settling with a clop hopper-”

“Madam Roan,” Gavels spoke, “it is wise not to bring tribalism to this panel. I was assured you would remain objective and keep your- atavistic tendencies to yourself.”

Madam Roan looked to argue, but was stayed Umbra Shywing, who was next to speak.

“It is my understanding, Dear Lady, that he is also engaged to a Pegasus mare as well?”

“‘Tis true, Colonel Shywing,” Luna stated, using the Elder Shywing’s proper title, “and I believe you may be acquainted with this young mare. A Fluttering Shywing?”

“Wha-” The Colonel stammered, “You can’t mean- Fluttershy?”

Luna nodded, “She was the first to court him.”

Madam Roan stifles her tittering behind a wing, but the look she gets from the Colonel is enough to stop her mirth. The glare Umbra levels is the kind that sends shivers through the spine; she believes this is this the same technique her granddaughter uses on animals, albeit with much different effect. Madam Roan still looks like she’s on the verge of erupting into peals of laughter but a slap on her flank by a leathery wing changes her attitude for her.

“My darling Flutters,” Colonel Shywing begins, “does- To you knowledge, Great Lady, does he treat her well?”

“Colonel Shywing, may I remind you that this panel is the investigation of the so called ‘hooman incident,’” Gavels rebukes, “it is not a gossip circle.”

“Gavels, you twit,” the Colonel started before Luna cut in, “You need not worry, Colonel. Your granddaughter is in excellent hooves, so to speak. Methinks that, should you feel inclined, a visit is in order to your granddaughter.”

Colonel Shywing nodded, the hint of tears forming in her eyes.

“If I may add to my previous statement?” Luna asked.

“In regards to what?” Gavel questioned.

“In regards as to why Sir Steven defended those who were to his species against those that were,” Luna answered.

“You may proceed,” Gavels replied.

“Thank you,” Luna begins, "Sir Steven’s people are rather sociable race, from what I have gathered and as such need as much social interaction as we ponies do. They may not be as comfortable with physical displays of camaraderie or share the common body language of your average Equestrian, yet they do have an innate desire for companionship. This may be conjecture on my part, but I do believe that Sir Steven was acting in part to protect his friends. Isn’t that what has founded this kingdom, friendship?”

“Agreed,” Celestia finally spoke, to which Gavels stated, “the panel recognizes Her Excellency-” that phrase caused Luna to wince, “Regent of the Sun, Princess Celestia.”

“Thank you, Gavel,” Celestia pronounced, “and thank you, Sister, for coming here today.”

“You are welcome,” Luna said, trying to avoid sounding indignant, “‘twas important that I come today.”

“Indeed,” Celestia conceded, “even so, you have avoided this panel before.”

“I had need of certain assurances in regard to this inquiry,” Luna stated, “given the nature of the panel, I did want to be sure not to misrepresent those of whom I was sure such testimony was already provided or has yet to be provided.”

“A wise policy,” Celestia noted, “bearing that, I would ask you, not just as your sister but as your fellow regent, how do you reconcile Sir Steven’s violent actions in Ponyville and at our former keep with his being a good citizen? In reality, he is not an Equestrian or even an immigrant to Equestria; he is a foreign national who has shown a propensity for belligerence. Is this not enough evidence to warrant further investigation and/or a constant vigil put in place to keep him out of trouble?”

Luna mused over that for a few moments, making many in the panel quiver in anticipation at what the Lunar Goddess was about to say. In all honesty, Princess Luna had given that same question very many hours of scrutiny and thought. Sir Steven, seen in a certain light, could be misconstrued as a murderous sociopath who has played a part a means to get close to their subjects. He has a proven ability to cause massive damage and has access to very powerful technology and weapons, the likes of which Equestria has never seen in more than twenty-five millennium.

Yet, she felt a kindred spirit in the human, one born of hardship, fouled by grief. In ways she had chosen to ignore before, she and the human Archmage were very alike in that respect. Horrible reputations proceded them both, yet they powered through, standing tall in the face of adversity. She had much respect for his mind and well as his soul. And a deeper part of her thought he had a nice, supple flank. She had never seen a male with such a flank before, usually equating it to some of the noblemares and courtiers that haunted the castle (and her sister, too.) Sir Steven was something more than what he allowed most ponies to see. But how to address that to this panel… She thought.

“I will concede that Sir Steven has shown prowess in the art of combat,” Luna explained, “and his abilities could make him a liability to the peace of Our Subjects. Yet, what most ponies have never known of him, and I count myself as one of the few that do know, is that Steven is a very kindly soul. As a wise mare once said, ‘The loneliest hearts are the kindest souls.’ Even as much as Our former Element of Kindness, Sir Steven has little ill will to anypony he meets. There may be some that earn his ire and I will agree that he has a temper and is troubled with a lack of impulse control.

“That said, you will never find a more caring being than Sir Steven, in my honest opinion. He has helped around the village of Ponyville as often as he has the time to spare and he as is gregarious as any of the townsfolk are. And yes, he can be profane, ill-tempered, pessimistic, and sarcastic, but behind these facades is a soul who has sought desperately his entire life to belong in his society and such a desperate search has extended even to here. Because of such a forlorn yearning, he has gone out of his way to become as much a citizen of Equestria as he is a part of the Terran Empire. One could even say he and I are kindred in these respects.

“I know, from exhaustive census records that I have poured over as part of my ‘rehabilitation’ into modern society, that Equestria is now no longer a nation whose populace is purely Equine. We have Gryphons, Minotaurs, Cow, Buffalo, and even a few Zebras living in our nation as citizens of the realm. Yea, even so, none have demonstrated the sort of resolve or civic duty to serve their individual metropolitans, at least as far as current records have ascribed, as Sir Steven. I daresay, if he were to be present during an assassination attempt of either myself or mine sister, he would do everything in his formidable power to thwart it. It is how he thinks and it is how he acts. Praytell you find somepony as vigilant.”

“So, if I am hearing this correctly,” Madam Roan asked, “you are of the belief that Sir Steven will be a benefit to Equiniti?”

“Yea, verily,” Luna replied, “if I were to borrow from one of the earliest cults founded during Equestria’s infancy, one could say Sir Steven is a ‘test from Faust.’”

“Such blaspheme,” another mare on the panel said, but Luna saw Gavels and her sister nod in approval.

“Your Grace,” Colonel Umbra stated, “according to your report, these other hoomans were armed. With what were they armed, swords, spears, staves, maces?”

Luna shook her head, “Neigh, they were armed with rifles,” and when the general murmur of confusion began, “Luna lit her horn, opening a pathway to her personal pocket dimension and removed therein one of the weapons scavenged from the enemy humans, “one of these,” Luna said, while pointing a hoof at the weapon held in her magic, “Sir Steven referred to these as ‘assault rifles’ and assault they can. One pull of the trigger is enough to spit lead projectiles at a target. I had seen these in use during the battle and the devastation wrought form them is terrible. This is the only one to have survived combat, and only because Sir Steven was in use of it. The humans sent after him-”

“Wait,” Gavels interjected, “the other hoomans were after him?”

“Yes,” Luna acknowledged, “they had come seeking him. There 25,000 of them each equipped with weapons such as this. I believe my sister will attest that the means and manner of their infiltration have yet to be detected. And the artificial being working in conjunction with Sir Steven has yet to determine who they assailed us that day. ‘Tis a mystery most perplexing.”

A new murmur emerged from the panelists, one filled with alarm. Several of the mares on the panel looked frightened by this news. Powerful, highly advanced weapons, hordes of enemies, ingress/egress too difficult to detect or track, all for the sake of one being? And this same being being hunted thwarted their plans and rent them asunder? What strange and horrible tidings these are!

“Sister,” Celestia spoke, silencing the panel immediately, “is it possible that these same intruders can come again? Might they make another play on Sir Steven?”

“I do not know,” Luna admitted, “given that the first team sent is in the aether, so to speak, it is unknown if more will come or some new stratagem will be employed at a later date.”

“Most worrisome,” Celestia commented, “and sister? Could you put that away? I don’t know how you can be so comfortable with such a thing, given the present climate.”

The rifle slipped dimensions back into Luna's private stronghold. She would retrieve it later at Steven’s behest, so he could disarm it. It had already been analyzed and Hand That Mourns had devised a manufacturing facility to replicate another and more besides. Steven had taken an interest in meeting “force for force,” and as such, he had given his ancilla and Hand directives to divine some way to make these weapons usable for the unfingered.

“There aren’t any more them, are there?” Celestia asked after the weapon vanished.

“Neigh,” Luna lied, “that was the only one that remains.”

Celesta gave a her sister a quizzical look, as if she didn’t believe the Lunar Regent. It was a minute emotion, one that lasted nary a second and when it passed, she wore the same passive mask that had been her trademark for centuries on end. Neither judging nor in disbelief, just making an assessment over all that was said. Luna could have kicked her sister’s teeth in for the display, if only she wasn’t addressing this panel.

There were several more question about the humans that Luna was forced to answer, mainly on their force size (one report form a Cloudsdale observation post out the number at over a million, so Luna had refute that claim,) as well as their behavior, ingress and egress. The egress part was hard to explain, because she wasn’t physically present when that happened. She had been carted away from battle by Discord, ignoble as that was to not even finish the fight, so what she heard of Steven’s magical temper tantrum was all second and third hand accounts.

“There is much about the end of that battle that I cannot tell you,” Luna reported to the panel, “if you have not already called upon the lord of chaos to give ask of his testimony, then I would suggest you attempt to do so.”

“The entity known as Discord has already been notified of our request for his presence,” Gavel stated, “as of yet, we have not heard if he will grace this panel with his presence.”

“I understand,” Luna replied, “such a creature does what he does when he wants. Even under his current ‘reformed’ state, he is as unpredictable as anything found in the Everfree forest.”

Gavel nods, then says, “We thank you for time here, Your Majesty. Your answers have shed great light unto this situation. While I do believe you would like to be quit of us, we may have more questions of greater importance that will need responses later on.”

“I understand,” Luna notes, “I shan’t be going anywhere.”

That last statement gets a few chuckles from the panel, even Gavels. And although she is relieved that her time with this panel is done for the now, she knows her sister will want to interrogate her later…

---

-Zecora’s Hut, Everfree Forest-

After the attack at the ruins, the zebra shamaness, Zecora, had spent an inordinate amount of time with Royal Guard patrols deep into the forsaken wood in search of what artifice the hoomans had used to get into Equestria. The searches were long and grueling; thus far, they had turned up nothing. Either the hoomans had erased their tracks, or, as Zecora had noted in her rather idiosyncratic way, that The Archmage’s last spell had wiped out any evidence of their presence. Still, the Royal Guard was under orders to cover the entire forest if necessary for any and all evidence.

That is why he found so easy to sneak into her abode. From his source, the zebra was the last known pony to have the article he was seeking. Mind you, he wasn’t entirely sure he could trust said source. The mare was a troublemaker and make no mistake. Still, she had exhibited signs shortly after her possession of the article, so he thought that the information was worth the cost of acquiring it. He would likely never see the mare again, even if she was a good lay, but that had never stopped other mares from trying.

He would have opted for night incursion, but the EVerfree Forest was dark enough during Celestia’s day that doing such after nightfall would be riskier than a broad daylight attempt. Faust only knew what lurked in these woods during the night. Maybe Luna did, but he was in no position or humor to ask. Besides, he had been meaning to get some time away from Canterlot…

Nevertheless, his foray into the hick town that bordered the most dangerous and wild place in Equestria was a rather- vexing. There were- certain ponies in that town that would recognize him on the spot, and the last thing he needed was to be noticed. Especially by the prissy one, her studious friend, or the one that told him about the location of his quarry in the first place. Stealth was never a skill he relied on exclusively and even during his time training under Optio Whippoorwill, he was never quite as talented in the covert arts as the Ptio would have preferred. Fortunately for him, there was nopony around of note that would see him, so he was able to enter the premises with ease.

The door, as simple as it was proved his first barrier. With no visible lock or handle on, he assumed he could just push it in. But as the old adage goes, “assumption is the mother of all buck ups,” so too did the would be burglar prove his hubris. The door would not budge, no matter how much physical or magical force he applied. He didn’t see any keyhole that he could pick, so unless there was some trick or method to getting the door open, he was going to need an alternate route.

The windows, thankfully, were devoid of glass, so he slipped in with a small modicum of trouble. He regretted two things trying to wedge himself through the narrow portal: A.) gorging himself on all the rich Canterlot fare that he did, and B.) not hiring some flunky or ne’er-do-well to perform this task for him. After squeezing in, though, he reconsidered those regrets. No his task was to find the article, if he could given the seemingly disordered nature of the zebra’s living space.

The masks on the floor, near where he assumed (hopefully) were the corners of the place; the cauldron set in a fire pit under the chimney port in the roof; the collection of vials, flasks, jars, and bottles adorning the shelves, the lone bed, covered in the hide of a Zebrican manticore no less, peeking out from an alcove in one wall, these details made him very anxious to retire to his posh apartment. He couldn’t imagine spending a night in this hovel, let alone the rest of his life. His hooves were also killing him, walking on dirt floors like this. The marble in his apartment was no better; it was smoother but much more rigid and even with proper shoes on, it would hurt like the dickens. Thank Faust for carpets…

No such luxury here, especially since it seemed the only article of clothing the shamaness possessed was a travel worn and threadbare cloak of homespun wool. The rough texture would have killed him, given his fair coat and sensitive skin. How anypony could stand to wear it was beyond him; he thought ruefully that not everypony can wear silks, nor should anypony without station.

Now he faced a new quandary: where to look for the article? His source was uncertain where the zebra could have hidden it. She had taken flight shortly after it was removed from her (or did she remove it herself before it was confiscated?) so she she had no reasonable guess as to where it was hidden. The stallion had no qualms of turning this place upside to find what he was looking for but given that this operation was to be as covert as possible, he couldn’t risk ransacking the place. He would need to search carefully, methodically, into every nook and cranny of the building to find what he sought. He also didn’t want to use his magic; another assumption he had was that the zebra had warded this place to counteract unicorn spells. He was also within fair proximity of his target that any magecraft would alert his mark.

As calmly and as carefully as he could, he began to pursue that which he came here for. He started with the most obvious places, such as pots, vases, shelves. There plenty of crockery about but none of the pieces he investigated resulted in his quarry. Further researches into the shelving went about the same. (He did uncover a star spider hiding behind one of the flasks on a lower shelf. He damn near screamed for fright but the monstrous arachnid skittered off to darkened places, leaving the thief to his own devices.) There weren’t many vases that he could find and what ones that were present held nothing of any interest for him.

Next, he began a very thorough scouring of the bed and the space beneath it. There was nothing to be found there but some curios and knick knacks, including an odd rectangular piece of crystal with an attached metal strip. The stallion didn’t know what this was for, although it did pique his curiosity. He returned it to it’s place under the filthy straw pillow, hoping to see some equal to it's design elsewhere. Without any luck thus far, he decided to take his best bet would be with the cauldron and chancing a little magic. The hut was dark without the miniscule amount of sun the hut received from the cleared trees or the fire in the fire pit.

Lighting up his horn and planting his forehooves on the lip of the kettle, he peered into its blackened depths. His light, while strong, showed very little of the cauldron’s innards. Even so, he was certain his target was not in there. After stepping back onto all four hooves, he cursed himself the fool, for believing that stupid whorse and her lies. He had thought this was a wild goose chase and now he believed it to be honestly so. There was no way the zebra would keep such a powerful artifact in her abode…

Then he saw it, lying adjacent to the door. He couldn’t understand how he could have missed something so obviously out of place in this shack. The gold of the band was worth more than anything this zebra could afford and was nearly out of the price range of many Canterlot families. The bloodstone jewel that was the centerpiece of the item shone even in the dark of this dingy backwoods chanty. Either the shamaness was possessed of a wicked sense of humor or she had no thought of anypony breaching her humble- whatever this really was to steal an object of this import. In his haste, though, he nearly touched it. According to his source, this would folly of the highest order. Once touched, it would latch on, as the mare told him, which she seem to consider an advantage of sorts. The stallion didn’t of it that way, certainly not in light of his long term plans.

Fortunate favored him again, for his paramour had gifted him with the most keen satchel. He was carrying it on this operation for just this occasion. While it would not do to grasp the object with nothing but his magic, to do so in the open would invite disaster. So, calmly and carefully, the stallion lifted the necklace in his aura and the same time lifted his satchel of his withers to drop the necklace in it. Once he had both positioned perfectly, he ended the levitation spell on the amulet, letting it fall into his satchel. Closing the bag with a final flourish and replacing the bag along his back, he ran a thorough inspection of the hut to ensure he left nothing out of place. While not a cat burglar by any means, the less evidence of his time here, the better.

Ensured that both the most cursory of glances as well the most exhaustive examinations of the shack would show nothing out of the ordinary, he left he same way he came in. First, he needed to be certain that none were lying in wait for him outside. A brief revealing jinx showed nopony or zebra within the immediately vicinity. Double checking showed that he was free and clear to commence egress, so he made the wise decision to exit. This time, he tossed his bag out first, thinking that was what may have hindered his earlier progress. Even without the satchel’s girth or weight, he still had trouble getting through the window. Once freed of his temporary prison, he made all haste down a seldom used path back to the local train station. His prize jostled considerably in his bag, which bumped his sides, but he could care less. His primary goal in his vengeance had been achieved. Onward to stage two.

When he emerged from the forest and back into town proper, he did as Option Whippoorwill had drilled him to do so often. He dove from cover to cover, avoiding the main roads and keeping to back alleys and side streets to escape detection. The only place where he would be thoroughly vulnerable in his flight would be the train station but by then, he would have removed all suspicion about his foray there. Sure enough, as he approached the station, making to veer away from the studious one’s residence/work place, the stallion soon found himself amidst an early luncheon crowd and very few ponies noticing his personage.

That suited him just fine; the fewer dolts of this hillbilly mudhole knew he was here, the better. He was still exposed, but his disguise (such as it was,) and the crowd kept his visage obscured from the commonpony. Arriving at the broad veranda that devised the train station's main building and platform, he showed the ticket salesmare his roundtrip fare; she allowed him to board the train already on the platform bound for Canterlot. Without any luggage, which was something he was unaccustomed to, besides his satchel, he didn’t need to wait for a porter. Instead, he boarded the train’s first class carriage and found a waiting seat.

He didn’t relax until the rolled out of the station some fifteen minutes later and he was well outside the Ponyville’s outskirts. He desperately wanted to inspect his prize, but doing so openly would compromise carefully laid plans and schemes, so opted not to, at least until he was sure he would not be seen. And besides, his rather perilous sojourn deserved a reward. As soon as the serving cart came down the aisle, he ordered a stiff brandy, a plate of caviar, some spruced greens in garlic butter, and a the finest baguette of Prench bread available. The kitchen staff on board did not fail to appease his palette. The greens were fresh and crispy, the bread was utter perfection, the caviar was divine and his brandy was chilled and brisk, just the way he liked it. He ordered a second snifter while he polished off a sorbet and it arrived while he was getting his mane shampooed and conditioned.

The train ride wouldn’t be very long, but he would bucked if he turned up in Canterlot looking disheveled. Given the degree of athleticism and sweat he poured searching for his trinket, he needed a desperate washing of his mane. He would get his coat and tail done later, likely at that quaint little Neighponese bath house he so loved to frequent. The fillies there were so exotic and cute, not that he would ever associate with them normally. They may be good at arousing his libido but he preferred a more- refined companionship. Arayne maybe many things, but she was one of the few mares in town who held his beliefs, even if she were somewhat crass about it. Feigning interest in here, and bedding her also, were all in part of his much grander scheme.

With his second snifter of brandy down and his mane thoroughly cleansed, the stallion opted to make a quick trip to the lavatory. He was in need to relieve himself but he also wanted to inspect his treasure away from prying eyes, as well. Hefting his satchel making his way toward the back of the car, he slid effortlessly into the lavatory stall and locked the door behind him. He made a show of reliving his filled bladder and washing his hooves, but all the while he held his booty aloft. The gold, the gem, all of it was priceless and perfectly pristine. Not a smudge of grease nor spot of dirt could be seen upon its surface. It didn’t even smell the mare who last wore it. This pleased him greatly.

“At least,” he whispered, “my plans can go forward. After rebuilding my wealth and restoring my standing with my fellow nobles, I now have the means by which to exact my revenge! Now that I have the Alicorn Amulet, I can move on to the second phase of my operation. The mongrels I have contacted will give me word soon if they are willing or not to join my cause. And with the members of my secret society, Pax Equina, ready to bolster me to the position so rightly mine, I begin making Equestria the jewel Celestia hasn’t never allowed to become. And, this all comes at the expense of that Orangutan, who humiliated me at my own game! I’ll show him once I have marshalled my forces and we take Canterlot for our own. It shall be so or my name is not Prince Blueblood, heir to Princess Platinum, Lord of All Unicorns!”

A knock came at the door as Blueblood finished his monologue. There was the tapping of hooves as another pony outside the door trotting in place.

“Excuse me,” said a feminine voice, “but if you’re done in there, could you let somebody else in there, please?”

Grumbling, Prince Blueblood gathered up his things, turned around in the stall, and unlocked the door. Upon opening the stall, he received quite a shock. Standing there in the corridor, wearing an ill-fitting maid outfit, was a hooman. The hemline for the female was so short, he could see well up it from his position. This gave him a clear view of the sodden underclothes beneath, as well as the petticoats bolstering the skirt. Her barrel was the strangest thing he had ever seen, with what appeared to be teats threatening to tear the fabric of the uniform, stretched so tautly it was.

Her face reminded him of the Orangutan, but where his face was ruddy and his hair was an orange hue, this one had blonde hair and green eyes with a fair complexion. She was smaller than the Orangutan by half a pony length and she looked young. She was certainly younger than the Orangutan and much slimmer. If Blueblood were honest with himself, he might think of her as mildly attractive. As it was, he was annoyed such a beast could disrupt his alone time.

“Hrmph,” he grunted and as he made his for the female hooman, he hip checked her, nearly causing her to fall. She teetered on her hooves or whatever hoomans have at the bottom of their hind legs, before righting herself. He never saw the angry look cross her features or the rude gesture she displayed as he left.

“Gah, how rude!” She called back, to which she received silence.

It didn’t occur to Blueblood until after he returned to Canterlot proper that he had encountered another hooman. The realization struck him funny because, as far as his Aunt Celestia was concerned, there was only one hooman in Equestria. Yet, he found another and from all he saw, she was under the employ of another pony. What did this mean?

---

Relieving herself in the tiny lavatory had been a chore. Meghan was always kind of tall for her age, but given that she had spent the last three years living in a land of technicolor ponies, she found it uncomfortable to use equine restroom facilities. She doubted that she could find anything remotely human here, but she would never give up hope that she would. These days, though, she just hoped her latest “employer” didn’t treat like some pet.

Given that most ponies didn’t believe humans existed, let alone ever saw one, she held out little hope for that. Exhibit A: the demeaning “dress” that was part of her work attire. She would have loved to get back the overalls she was in when she found herself here, but those had been burned a long time ago. Some careless pony had set them ablaze, probably because they didn't understand what they were. Those few weeks where she was running around practically naked were some of the worst in her sixteen years of life.

Not that the uniform she presently wore was any better. The huffy unicorn colt she met had a a good view of the pantaloons that served as underwear for this getup. She was glad the colt was either uninterested, too distracted, or plain gay enough not to get a stiffy. She had seen that happen plenty of times when she and Molly had worked that factory job… Don’t think about Molly, don’t think about Molly. The more I dwell on that, the more likely it is I’ll break down in hysterics

Now that her bladder was empty, Meghan used what passed for pony toilet tissue and cleaned herself up. She snatched up that pantaloons to put them back on, then smoothed out the uniform she wore. She washed her hands in the tiny lavatory sink. A second look at her work clothes confirmed that she couldn’t stall in this miniscule cubicle any longer.

“Time to face the music,” Meghan sighed.

Leaving the cubicle was the second hardest thing she had to do; she didn’t want to think about the hardest. Another sigh, and Meghan was back in the corridor for the lavatories. No sign of Prissy McFussbucket, thankfully. She lurche a little as the train took a bend at speed, but righted herself quick enough. She then walked back into the commercial class car where her “mistress” was waiting.

“Ah, there you are, Meelan,” a chubby, middle aged mare with an indigo mane streaked with gray sat in the middle of the cabin, “I almost thought you fell in!”

“Mrs. Carousel,” Meghan replied, “It’s Meghan. I’ve explained this time and time again, Meg-an. Not Meela, or Meelan, Meemaw, Meghan.”

“Oh, sorry dearie,” Mrs. Carousel said, “I can be so terrible with names sometimes. My daughters are the lone exception.”

The sound of the clicking and clacking of the train on the tracks filled the cars. As it was Meghan tried to relax. Her mind was full, but as far as ponies went Mrs. Carousel wasn’t bad. She was fair, ensured that Meghan was treated about as well as any other pony, and for the most part didn’t try to treat her like an oversized doll, well most of the time. Her current state of dress was an obvious exception, but she was willing to forget about it, continue on, and forge ahead. After all, it wasn’t like things could get much worse.

“Next Stop, Colt’on - Outer Canterlot and directly after Inner Canterlot,” the Conductor said as he passed by.

“Mrs. Carousel, which part of Canterlot are we heading for?” Meghan asked.

“Oh, inner Canterlot dear. Magnum and I have put off visiting for far too long, and even though I don’t like it, well, one of us has to ensure that the taxes are paid, and of course that the house still has everything it needs. I’ll never understand why we just couldn’t sell that blasted place and be done with it. It’s not like either of us really want to live there. I suppose keeping it for our daughters, but then again, I don’t really see either of them wanting to live here,” she replied.

Meghan had to admit that Mrs Carousel was certainly more down to Earth, and friendlier, than Big Top had been. She shivered as she thought of the Circus owner. Cruel didn’t even begin to describe him. She’d managed to get away, but not before he’d used the whip. Sveti, the gryphoness that had been in captivity along with her, had covered her, and let Meghan escape. She had stopped, finding a mallet, and used it on Big Top.

The Stallion had been knocked out cold, and from there Meghan had went on her own way. Her back still had the scar, the awful scar that Top’s whip had left. In truth, she hated to be without a shirt because of it. It was deep, red, and for a very long time it hurt like the Devil himself had took a meat hook and raked it right across her back. She’d escaped, unsure if she even wanted to deal with ponies again. Slowly, but surely, hunger won out, and she ended up meeting Cherries Jubilee Ms. Jubilee was a practical mare, and practicality meant doing a day’s work for a day’s pay.

Unfortunately clothes really didn’t fit into that, despite her argument. So standing, practically naked, picking cherries, sorting cherries, and fetching cherries wasn’t a whole lot of fun. Especially when a few stallions seemed more than a little curious about her ‘teats’ and where they were located. She knew that they were harmless, and they were just asking because they honestly were curious, but it bothered her.

“Meghan, did I say that right? Dear, we’re here,” Mrs Carousel said as the train stopped.

She followed her mistress, the pony she went to work for after she left Ms Jubilee’s farm. At least she got to wear clothes, although the French Maid getup was getting old. She walked toward a row of houses that made every place here, and back home, look poor in comparison. Mrs. Carousel seemed to be trotting along, greeting every pony that passed by her whether or not they returned the greeting.

She noticed another Unicorn wearing a monocle, dressed in an expensive looking Tuxedo, well the jacket, shirt, and bowtie, nearing them. His blue mane was a contrast to his white coat, and she noticed that his mustache looked freshly waxed, as if he took great pains to ensure that every hair was perfectly kept in place. He saw her trotting toward him, and he smiled graciously toward her.

“Mrs. Carousel! How Marvelous to see you! Tell me, has your dear husband Magnum joined you this time? I’d love to take a few moments to discuss a potential business venture with the both of you. Well, not so much a venture as it would be discussing the possibility of having you both perform for my sister’s birthday party. After all, a mare only turns eighteen once, or in Fleur's case five times,” he said with a smile.

“Oh, that sounds marvelous, but it will have to wait. Magnum is currently in Baltimare tying up a few loose ends on the escrow of our old home, but I’ll be glad to talk to him about it. Oh, where are my manners, Fancy, this is my new maid, Meghan. I am saying the name right dear?” she asked looking at Meghan who nodded, “Good, anyway, I wanted to introduce you to her. She’s mighty handy to have around, and she’s a decent cook too. I might have her teach Sweetie Belle some of the things she can cook. I mean, I know I taught her some fancy cookin..”

Fancy’s smile seemed to become a bit more pressed at the mention of Mrs. Carousel’s cooking, and Meghan knew why. The first day on the job the mare had insisted on her joining them for breakfast. She wasn’t sure how, but it seemed like she had ended up burning everything, including the juice. After that, Meghan took it upon herself to cook for them. Every meal, which Magnum seemed more than happy to let her. She’d once heard that love was eating a burnt meal, smiling, and asking for seconds. If that was true then Magnum loved Mrs. Carousel a whole bunch, like a whole, whole, whole bunch.

“Yes, well, one would be hard pressed to find a cook who was able to prepare… more interesting dishes than yourself my dear, but I’m afraid I must press on. I’m running a bit late to check in on my store, and I do so want to make sure that it is running correctly. Please, don’t be a stranger, and have a lovely day!” he said as he trotted off.

“Such a nice stallion, you know, he’d be the kind that would make a mare a good husband. You may want to think about that dear,” she said as she lead the way toward another house.

This one wasn’t nearly as big as the others; oh, it was certainly beautiful and spacious, but compared to some of the other houses it looked a little plain. They walked up to it, and Mrs. Carousel knocked on the front door. A blue unicorn with a blue and white mane stuck her head out.

“Mrs. Carousel! Welcome back! I totally made sure that your house was still standing. Oh, my friend Lyra is visiting, she’s training to be a reservist guard, and she came over with me to check things, is that okay?”

“Minuette, we need to get them some more peanut butt… HUMAN!”

A green blur streaked across the room, and tackled Meghan with the force of a hurricane. She rode it to the ground as best she could as a mint green unicorn smiled a little too widely at her.

“ANOTHER HUMAN!” The mint colored unicorn shouted, “Sweet Celestia, I found another one!”

The unicorn looked positively excited, thrilled, and well overjoyed at Meghan’s appearance. Meghan looked at Mrs Carousel who was desperately trying not to laugh, but the older mare moved toward them. She gently ushered Lyra down from Meghan, but the younger mare was still smiling like a complete loon.

“A real HUMAN! Wow, So where did you come from? Oh, oh, did you come from the badlands? Most of the ancient history I’ve found said that your kind lived out there! Oh! Is it true that you eat almost anything? Are there more of you? Do you like games? Oh, is that the kind of clothes that your kind wear all of the time? Did you know that you’re kind of cute as a maid? Do you think that I could talk my marefriend into dressing like a maid? Oh Wow HANDS! You’ve got the most awesome set of hands! Minuette look!”

Minuette looked toward Meghan and gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry, she really doesn’t have much of a filter. We try to get her to think about things before she talks, but it doesn’t always happen.”

Meghan gave a smile back, “It’s okay, I’ve known several others with the same problem “

“Lyra, didn’t you say you met a human in Ponyville?”

Meghan’s eyes widened and she looked at the mint green unicorn.

“Uh huh, Steve, he’s a nice colt, but Bon Bon was telling me that he wasn’t a human, but she insists he’s called The Archmage.”

Lyra leaned toward Meghan, “She’s not a believer, Bon Bon I mean.”

Knowing there was another human here made her a little happy, and it also saddened her. She hoped that he hadn’t been discovered by anyone like Big Top. That was the last thing she’d want was for someone to get hurt like she had been. Sure, it had happened a long time ago, but the memory of what Big Top had one was still fresh, and every time she took her top off she had that unsightly scar to remind her that there was cruelty here.

When she first saw the ponies, she never would have guessed that any of them would have the ability to be cruel. For the most part they were almost all so pleasant, but the more she considered it the more likely it was that some of them would indeed have the ability. After all they were very human in action, in thought, and for that reason alone it meant that they had the capacity for good and evil.

The ponies she was around now, even the little green one that looked like she had realized the greatest moment of her life, weren’t bad ponies. They were actually quite nice, and she knew for a fact that Mrs. Carousel was kind. Not a good cook, and had a terrible taste in fashion, but still very kind.

“It’s Lyra, right?” Meghan asked of the minty unicorn.

“Uh huh,” Lyra said, cantered to show the human her emblazoned flank, “Lyra Heartstrings, Still Way Grandmaster, player of the lyre, hooman enthusiast, at your service!”

“Okay,” Meghan mused, “this other human, his name was Steven, right?”

Lyra nodded, “Yup, he lives in Ponyville, down in Canter Valley. He’s a good friend of mine and Bonnie’s. And, oh boy, does that brony know how to scratch behind the ears. It’s the fingers, ya see…”

“No doubt,” Meghan cut the mare off, “and he’s alive? He’s not, hurt, or scarred, or anything?”

“Uh,” Lyra began, “well, when he first came in last spring, he was pretty badly hurt. Lost a leg, think; he told me it got sheared in an air plain accident, whatever those are. He tried to explain to me, but I couldn’t follow with how he described it.”

“An airplane accident,” Meghan musd, “that- doesn’t make sense… He didn’t say anything about a whirlpool in the air or anything?”

“You know, I think he did,” Lyra answers, “but I can’t be sure. Twilight Sparkle might now more. She’s been chronicling his time here in Equestria. She did a very exhaustive interview with him after his recovery.”

“You’re talking about Steve, right?” Minuette asked, “I know him, too. He’s my best client.”

That got Cookie Crumbles and Meghan to share a look.

“You know him, too?” Cookie asked, “how strange.”

“Eh, it’s not that strange,” Minuette replied, “he comes in every month, like clockwork. I inspect his teeth and gums. I don’t really need to do that much; he seems rather meticulous about cleaning his teeth. Ah, that is one set of teeth-”

“He’s known,” Meghan inquired, “to every pony in town?”

“-those cuspids are so exotic looking for how sharp they are… What? Oh, yes, he knows everypony in town, even Cranky Doodle Donkey. Now there’s a client from Tartarus if there ever was one…”

“Miss Minuette, if I could ask you to focus,” Meghan started, and when the unicorn finally topped raving. She continued, “Did this Steven ever mention where he came from?”

“Uh huh,” Minute answered, beaming, “he said he was Texas, someplace called La-ray-do. Never heard of it before; doesn’t sound like any pony town.”

“Laredo, Texas,” Meghan repeated, “maybe he’s Mexican-?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Minute said, and Lyra offered the following, “I don’t think Steve ever mentioned any place like ‘Mexico.’ Although, it does sound a lot like Mexicolt.”

Shaking her head, Meghan interjected, “sorry, sorry, I was diverging. You said, Minuette, you said he lives in- Ponyville, right?”

“Ponyville,?” Cookie puzzled, “my oldest daughter, Rarity lives in Ponyville. We have a house there. Such a quaint little place and friendly, too!”

“No doubt,” Meghan quipped, “so, he’s fine there, Steven?”

“Steve?” Lyra began, “oh, yeah, he’s great! Got a new leg and everything. EVen as something like a Parasprite or Breezy that hovers nearby all the time. I think he calls it Esmer or something.”

“Huh,” Meghan stated, “I’ve seen parasprites. Remember, Mrs. Carousel? That infestation back in Baltimare?”

“Oh, yes, who could forget!” Cookie exclaimed, “Ate up all the food, the wee things. If Princess Celestia hadn’t turned up, I have no doubt all of Baltimare would have starved as those things ate everything edible.”

“So he’s alive?” Meghan mused.

“And engaged!” Lyra shouted, “he has two mares that are his fiancees. Oh, what I would give to be mounted by a hooman.”

“That does sound nice,” Meghan said dreamily, then she shouted, “Wait, what?!”

---

WARNING! WARNING! LOCALIZED BREACH OF FOURTH WALL IN PROGRESS! INSTABILITY OF REALITY AT ZETA 0, YOTTA 0, CHI 0! PLEASE REMAIN CALM; THIS BREACH WILL SEALED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!

*Tink, Tink, Tink!*

“Hi, there, Pinkie Pie here! Didn’t think you;’d rid of me that easily, huh? Didja, didja, didja? Anyhay, I bet you didn't see that coming, huh? Prince Blueblood with the Alicorn Amulet! Another human in Equestria! Princess Luna getting the hots for Stevie! Wowie zowie!”

“I mean, Princess Luna getting all lovey dovey for Steve is kind of understandable. I mean, he does have a nice flank. He’s mane is all kinds of soft, too, even softer than Fluttershy’s. And those lips? Cheese Sandwich has some nice lips, but Stevie’s just invite to you kiss and bite them all day long…”

“Oops! Don’t want to give away any ♫spoilers!♪ So, how about that Blueblood? What do you think he plans on doing with the Alicorn Amulet? Something sounds fishy to me… Which reminds me, how is Stevie getting all his protein? I mean, we ponies can get from legumes like peanuts, almonds, dates (which isn’t even a legume, I think,) macadamia nuts, stallion seed… Oh, listen to me! Prattling on about stallion spunk like some filly during her first estrus!”

“A pony does have to wonder where all those Proletariat humans came from? I mean, they had to come from somewh-”

We apologize for this tackless breach of of the fourth wall. The management team that replaced the previous incompetents has been sacked and a new team is being trained as we speak. We thank for your patience and hope you return for the next thrilling chapter!

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