DayBreak

by MyHobby

First published 12th of October, 2014

After an attempt is made on Celestia's life, Twilight Sparkle must assemble a team to track down the assassin and bring her to justice. Danger awaits as they delve into the origins of both the attacker and alicorns.

Celestia is not invincible. Strong, yes. Ageless, assuredly. Magical, undoubtedly. But not invincible.

The Princess of the Day has been attacked, and she did not escape unscathed.

While Luna fights against the mortal fear gripping her subjects in the wake of the assassination attempt, the enemy runs free. Twilight Sparkle must assemble a team to bring the pony to justice. Few ponies can be trusted, and fewer still can be expected to succeed.

But the kingdom has heroes: The Knights of Harmony. Ponies who have stood against evil and won, who fight to make Equestria a safer place. Each is an expert in their particular field, masters of their trades, but they have yet to work together.

An adventurer past her prime.

A tinkerer with too much time on his hooves.

A spy whose primary instinct is to lie.

A dishonored soldier with an axe to grind.

As they delve into the origins of the assassin, they find that Equestrian history still has secrets long buried. Can the knights come together as a team before she finds her next mark?

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Rated Teen for

Action Violence
and
Drama

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Part of The Heart's Promise Continuity
Lord Mayor Applejack
Fahr Drill
The Unmitigated Disaster
Scootaloo Will Fly!
Nature in the Wild
DayBreak
Lightning Struck Home
In the Absence of Sunset Shimmer
An Equestrian Griffon
If You Weren't Afraid
The Worst Kept Secret
Rhythm and Rhyme
In the Absence of Twilight Sparkle
The High Pariah of Breezy Bastion

Hurricane

The soldier’s wings tapped against his golden armor. He had accompanied Princess Celestia to dozens of shows in his years of service. This time, same as every other, he was to keep an eye on the ponies in and around the opera house. Most of the time, the most exciting thing he did during the event was stop Prince Blueblood at the door to make sure he didn’t smuggle in booze.

The opera had been going on for a while; at least an act or two. The guards generally shifted around just after an intermission, and he’d moved from outside the princess’ booth to just inside the opera house’s door. He didn’t expect to see anypony except fellow guards until the next break.

It came as a double surprise, after a sea of unicorn nobles, to see a pegasus mare walking through the doors. Her dress was backless, allowing her pale blue wings freedom of movement. Her white mane drifted around her face like feathers. The guard felt his eyes trail towards her hind legs, where the dress split open almost to her cutie mark. He cursed the thought that he was still on duty. He puffed his chest out and decided to at least find out why she had arrived so late.

That was when she killed him.

He extended his right wing towards her in a classic pegasus salutation. Her eyes flicked towards him, followed by the rest of her face. Her left cheek held a deep scar, surrounded by bare skin and purple veins. Her wing snapped forward in a smart salute. A small, glinting object flew from between her feathers. He didn’t have time to react with anything more than a blink.

It was a blade, with an edge keener than a hairsbreadth. A golden glow flashed across his coat as his armor’s enchantment fought with the weapon, but the magic was parted in an instant. A sharp pain in his neck cut off any chance of a scream.

She caught him as his knees buckled and set him gently, silently, on the ground. The last thing he ever saw were her gray eyes, hard as granite.

It was Celestia’s favorite part of this particular play, when the hero confessed his undying devotion to the mare of his dreams. She had to refuse his affections, of course, because her father forbade her ever marrying a common earth pony. It was still obvious that they were madly in love.

It was, in short, the scene where the opera got good.

The two other ponies in her private box were plainclothes guardsponies, her personal protectors Care and Caution. Long ago, when the opera house had first been built, she had been accompanied by soldiers in full ceremonial armor. The glint of armor caused one too many singers to miss a beat or two, so Celestia insisted on the distracting protection being left outside.

Caution Tape, an earth pony from Fillydelphia, pulled at the neck of his tuxedo. He wasn’t too fond of romance, more’s the pity, and so busied himself crowd-watching. Care Carrot on the other hoof, a unicorn from Manehattan, kept one ear to the opera and the other behind her, listening for word from the guards stationed in the hallway.

Celestia placed a gentle hoof on Care’s reddish-orange shoulder. “Is something bothering you?”

Care shook her head. “No, your Majesty. I’m just staying alert.”

Celestia sighed through her nose. “I guess I can’t begrudge you doing your job. Someday, though, we need to attend an opera when you’re not on duty.”

“All due respect,” Care said with a small smile, “wouldn’t I still need to help out in an emergency?”

“It’d give you an excuse to keep both eyes on the stage.” Celestia’s eyes sparkled as she beheld heartfelt vows rebuffed by tearful pleas. “Ooh, here comes the father…”

Earth ponies were the strongest of the tribes. Pound for pound, muscle for muscle, there was no denying they contained greater force. It was part of their innate magic connection with the land that they could be as firm as boulders.

So the earth pony guard found herself a bit surprised that she was being manhandled by a random pegasus mare.

She had been on her way to take her place at the outer doors, fulfilling the rule that guards should at least come in pairs. She’d stopped just long enough to make sure Blueblood was behaving himself. It was plenty of time for the pegasus mare to sneak up on her and lock her in a hold.

The edges of the guard’s vision became cloudy white. She was vaguely aware that the hold was designed to just knock somepony out, but one wrong move, one bit of pressure expertly applied, could snap her neck. Instead of trying to muscle her way out of the mare’s grasp, the guard opened her mouth to sound the alarm.

One bit of pressure expertly applied ended that particular call for help.

The guard’s spear clattered to the marble floor. The mare bent down to pick it up not in her hooves, but with her wings. She carried it at her side as she marched down the corridor, casting sharp glances at the numbers above the entrances to the opera hall. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she heard an accusing voice tell her to halt.

She looked behind to see three guards trailing her. Two pegasi and a unicorn. The unicorn wore a red sash denoting him as a lieutenant. His horn glowed green, aiming a paralyzing spell at her. She was under arrest for suspicions of murder, he said, and she would do well to surrender immediately.

Her wings flared out, shooting dozens of razor blades in all directions. The unicorn erected a hasty shield before him and his fellow soldiers which, combined with their armors’ enchantments, was enough to stop the blades.

Or it would have been.

One of the pegasi took to the air in an instinctive defensive maneuver and flew above the shield. He fell to the ground in a heap, pierced by metal shards. The unicorn lieutenant cursed as he fired the paralysis spell.

The mare wasn’t standing still, though. She, too, had taken to the air along with the soldier. She dived at the two remaining guards with her hooves held forward. Her wings gave a mighty flap that reversed her flight path, but left the spear zipping forward. The lieutenant dodged the spear as the other guard met what he thought was a headlong charge.

The spear grazed the guard’s side. While he was off-balance, the mare twisted her wings. He was caught in a gust of wind that threw him against the wall. His armor absorbed the impact, allowing him the opportunity to bounce back at her. He caught her with a glancing blow to the side of her head.

She ducked under him and swirled her wings in opposite directions. He felt his feathers grabbed by separate, conflicting currents. He tried to pull them in, to dive to the floor, but there was no moving fast enough. He cried out as his wings were each wrenched out of their sockets.

As the mare kicked his fellow guard out of the air, the unicorn fired off his spell. She raised her wings, drawing up the razor-sliced guard’s body to her with a whirl of wind, where she used it as a makeshift shield. The lieutenant snorted steam and charged at her, horn lowered.

She flew low and made a loop around him. She continued in circles, faster and faster, until he was surrounded by a tornado. He gasped for breath as the oxygen was sucked away from him, and his armor glowed as it absorbed blows from high-speed dirt particles. After a moment, the blades that had bounced off his shield cut deep into his body.

He glared up at the mare who had cut a path through his troops. She gazed at him with hard, gray eyes, as if sizing him up. With a shake of her head, she picked up the spear and walked away, leaving him to bleed out in the hallway.

“Father, Father, hear my plea
The warrior’s life is not for me
I’ve found such love here on the land
Of tender grass and warming sand”

The singer who played the father had a gigantic moustache that squirmed over his face as if it had a mind of its own. It blew in the breeze made by his powerful voice.

“My dearest Pansy! You know I care
A life fulfilled you will not find here
An earth pony’s home is toil and pain
Come and meet Commander Hurricane!”

Care leaned towards Celestia’s ear. “Did Private Pansy and Smart Cookie really have a bittersweet love life?”

Celestia chuckled. “Most of this story is technically true, but Pansy would be mortified to find out the playwright got his and Cookie’s genders reversed.”

Care’s eyebrows shot up. “How did that happen?”

Celestia’s wings rubbed against each other. “Years blur facts. History grows old and quiet. Life moves forward, and those who care to look back can never see the whole picture.”

Care inclined her head, brushing her turquoise mane behind her shoulder. “Unless you lived it.”

Celestia shrugged. “Even I forget things.”

Caution stood from his seat as he was tapped on the shoulder. A guard leaned through the curtain of the royal box and whispered into his ear. Caution in turn whispered to Celestia, “There’s somethin’ up. Get ready t’ move.”

Celestia gave him a grave nod. She turned towards the stage with dim eyes. “Seems there’s always something.”

Care stood and faced the curtain with her horn glowing. “We’ll have a peaceful night one of these days, your Majesty.”

“Promises, promises.” Celestia shifted in her chair. “I haven’t had a peaceful night in a thousand years.”

Just as Pansy’s singer reached the song’s crescendo, a bloodcurdling screech came from the other side of the curtain. A growing murmur peppered the crowd. Celestia jumped up, her wings flared to their full majestic length. “Stay still, my little ponies!” she shouted. “But be ready to evacuate calmly and quickly!”

Care almost snorted at the thought of the opera-goers doing anything but stampede. She squared her hooves as her horn began to spark. “Should I go out and—?”

“Stay,” Celestia said. “Maybe Caution will be able to handle it.”

The curtain was torn aside. Caution lay on the ground, a nasty gash in the side of his head. The pegasus mare stood tall, her chest heaving, her muscles tight in her legs and back. Her cold gray eyes met Celestia’s sunlit purple.

Celestia’s throat made a tiny gurgle. “Hurricane?”

The pegasus lunged with the speed of lightning. Her face contorted for the first time that night, taking on the heat of rage. “Thus to all usurpers!”

The spear hit Celestia square in the chest. She stared at the wooden shaft leading into her body with a slacked jaw. Her hooves failed her and she tumbled onto her back, her wings splayed.

Far too late, Care cast a wall of fire at the attacker, backed by a scream. The pegasus flapped her wings to avoid being fried, but the flame caught the edge of her evening dress. She tore it off with barely a glance, and jumped over the fire. Her hooves and Care’s met in a grapple. Care pushed with her forelegs, but the pegasus’ were far stronger.

The unicorn guard felt herself leaning over the edge of the balcony, where a long drop would end in a bone-shattering stop. Her horn flared with a concentrated pillar of heat, which singed several of the pegasus’ hairs black. The attacker jerked back, and Care shoved her with newfound leverage.

Care pressed her advantage by following up with a series of quick punches to the pegasus’ face, chest, stomach, anything she could get an opening for. When the mare stumbled, the guard jumped back and charged up a fireball. She launched it with the intent to remove the pegasus mare from existence.

The mare beat her wings, making the air sing. A whirlwind ate the fireball and turned it into a cauldron of heat. Care winced away, taking her eyes off her opponent. Big mistake.

The pegasus flew through the wind and tackled Care right over the edge. They tumbled towards the seats below, where ponies were already trampling over each other for the exit. Care wrapped her hooves around the other pony’s neck and pulled her close. She twisted herself in the air so that the mare was below her.

They landed hard, shattering seats and scattering stragglers. Care rolled to the side as her muscles clenched up, protesting her continued consciousness. She felt blood trickle out of her nose where something had smashed into her. She tried to move her forelegs, but they were unresponsive.

The other mare stood up. Her wings hung limp, her right foreleg was clutched tight to her chest, but she stood up. She looked down at Care with a scowl, but the hard look ended with a wince. She hobbled away, joining with the crowd that cared more about running than what they were actually running from.

Care got a good look at her cutie mark: A mass of swirling, spiraling clouds, growing darker as they reached the middle. At the very center was an opening, a pale blue spot on her coat the clouds failed to cover.

The clouds churned, rolled, and whipped in Care’s swimming vision. She let her head rest against a demolished seat cushion. She looked up at the balcony where, just seconds before, she had been enjoying a quiet evening at the princess’ side.

Where Celestia was enjoying one of the few things left to her.

She closed her eyes and could hear the paramedics already attending to the princess. The wood shaft of the spear was sawed off, and she was carried away on a specialized stretcher that nopony ever expected to actually use. Care could wait. It was the princess who really needed attention.

Minutes later, they came for her. A light shined in her eyes when the medic checked her pupils. They told her to rest quiet as they ushered her through the hallways. Through her hazy, swirling, clouded vision, Care saw the edges of the halls lined with blanketed lumps. Two… three… five…

She’d seen that mare’s cutie mark before. Not on a pony, but a map.

She was loaded into an emergency carriage. Her head flopped on a limp neck. A nearby paramedic mentioned something about the hospital, about the supply of ambrosia being strained, about how he wasn’t sure there would be enough.

Caution was loaded into a separate ambulance, a series of bandages wrapped tight around his head.

Care drifted in and out. There was the squeal of a siren, the clomp of hurried hooves, the reassuring whispers of a nurse who looked far out of his element. She next awoke on a hospital bed, covered in tubes and gauze. A golden bag of precious ambrosia dripped into her bloodstream, speeding her cells’ reproduction and mending her damaged body. She would be on her hooves in a week.

But for now, she was tired. Tired and angry.

She failed the princess, she thought. She failed her solemn duty to defend the pony who was said to never need defense. She failed to protect a pony whose power was greater than any ten, twenty, thirty ponies combined. All that, and she still fell. A moment’s hesitation from Care cost too much to ever be repaid. A stupid mistake. The worst mistake.

She’d never repay the cost of her mistake, but she could try.

She would track the mare down. She would search high and low. She would travel from the Smoky Mountains to the Badlands. She would do anything and everything to find the attacker.

And then Care would end her.

The cutie mark rose in her mind as the light in her eyes faded. The swirling clouds with the empty center. A storm. A maelstrom. A hurricane.

Now, the mark of a deadmare.

Princess Luna sat in a hospital waiting room. She stared at the far wall, which held a tacky striped paper coating in lieu of paint. It was infinitely uninteresting, but it was far better to focus on that than…

She shuddered from horn to tail. A damp trail ran down her cheek as drops pattered on the floor. She had cried before, only a few minutes before. And a few minutes before that. And before that.

And before that.

She did not know how long it had been since they had called her from the Dream's Keep, the dream-watching tower. Hours, most likely. She had not lowered the moon, so it had literally been less than a day. It would remain less than a day until she guided it along its prescribed path.

She did not wish to do so until Celestia was ready to raise the sun.

The tears subsided again, and she dried her face. She brought her wings around to embrace her body, covering it like a blanket. Her head dipped low. She blinked the last of the water from her eyes and regarded her cutie mark.

It was a crescent moon, the same as it had been since the day she discovered it. Ancient days long past, much like the ponies she had shared them with. “What did we promise, dear sister?” she asked. “What did we promise together so long ago?”

She shifted her gaze to the black patch of hair that surrounded her cutie mark on both sides, extending to cover the rest of her rump. “Why did we make such a terrible promise?”

“Luna!” a welcome voice said. “Luna! We came as quick as we could!”

Twilight Sparkle ran into the waiting room, skidding on the smooth floor. Spike came behind her and grabbed her tail to keep her from tumbling. Twilight stood still, taking in deep breaths.

Spike spoke for the both of them. “Is she alright?”

Luna kept her face still. She spoke in a low, deliberate voice. “No. She is not.”

Twilight and Spike stood together, holding each other. They had both grown over the years. Twilight was slightly shorter than Cadenza, and Spike a bit shorter than that when on his hind legs. Spike released Twilight and crawled towards Luna. “What happened? Where is she?”

“They are operating on her, Spike.” Luna placed a hoof on his bowed head. “They did not let me see her. All we can do is wait and pray.”

She sighed at the offensively boring wallpaper. “And decide what shall become of the kingdom during her recovery.”

Twilight rubbed the end of her snout. She blinked reddened eyes. “We need to find the assassin and stop them.”

“Indeed,” Luna said, “but most of the witnesses are either dead or severely injured. Everypony else got caught up in the stampede when the attack happened.”

Twilight’s feathers ruffled. “So we wait.”

Luna gave a humorless laugh. “I am not fond of it either, Twilight. Every once in a while, there is nothing we can do.”

Twilight and Luna sat beside each other, while Spike made slow laps around the room. His hefty frame shook periodically as his long tail waved behind him. He lifted his head with a start. “I’m getting something to drink. Can I get you anything?”

Luna shook her head, but Twilight rubbed her forehead. “Coffee, please, Spike.”

Spike scurried up to the coffee maker on all fours, then lifted himself onto his hind legs. He grasped the cups and ambled back to Twilight. Just as he reached her, a pony dressed in a white coat walked into the room.

“Your Majesty?” he said to Luna. As she and Twilight stood, he bowed. “Your Highness.”

“Dr. Fine,” Luna said, “you bring news.”

“Your Majesty…” Doctor Hefty Fine cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, I do. Princess Celestia is alive.”

Luna’s neck stiffened. “As she was when she arrived. Did you bring any new news?”

The doctor took a step back as Luna loomed over him. Twilight placed a soft wing on her back, and the princess relaxed.

“Please continue,” Luna said.

“You may wish to sit down,” the doctor began.

“Speak.” Luna brushed Twilight’s wing away. “Now.”

“She is alive, but she is not stable.” Dr. Fine’s eyes flicked to Spike, then back at Luna. “We will have doctors with her twenty-four seven, I promise. We are doing everything we can to help her.”

“As you should.” Luna closed her eyes and turned away. “How bad is the damage?”

“It’s impossible, your Majesty,” Dr. Fine said, “but… her heart has been destroyed.”

Twilight, Luna, and Spike shouted simultaneously. “What?”

“She is alive, I assure you!” Dr. Fine held up his hooves. “The spear that pierced her chest went through her heart, tearing it into pieces. She should by all rights have been dead on arrival.”

He shrugged. “Her brain activity is weak but consistent. She is breathing with assistance from an oxygen pump. There is no way this should be possible, but it is. There is something keeping her alive that has nothing to do with what we’ve done here. We removed the spearhead, but now all we can do is help the flesh heal.”

The doctor bit his lip. “I was hoping you could give us a clue as to exactly what is going on.”

Twilight licked her lips. “Is there something about alicorn anatomy you guys haven’t told me?”

Luna opened her mouth, but stopped short of speaking. She took two breaths before answering. “No, Dr. Fine, I do not know what happened. Please carry on as you were and inform us of any changes in my sister.”

Dr. Fine bowed to the princesses, nodded at Spike, and hurried for the exit.

“Wait,” Spike said. “Can we see her?”

The doctor tugged his coat. “I suppose. A short visit. Follow me.”

Twilight Sparkle guzzled her coffee as she walked. “I’m thankful she’s alive, but this is way too weird. What in the wide world happened?”

Luna marched with rigid legs, her wings half-extended. Her horn sparkled with blue magic, and a tiny voice spoke directly into Twilight’s ear. “Twilight, there was a time when alicorns were impossible.”

Twilight looked over the rim of her mug. She let it settle in a waste basket once it was empty. Her horn glowed purple as she replied with the same privacy spell. “And?”

“We were a legend. A myth. A fantastical prophesy made by downtrodden ponies living in a world that wanted to kill them.” Luna shivered. “And when we came, we were a miracle.”

They walked down a staircase and through a set of heavy doors. Luna brushed her star-sparkled mane down the side of her face. “We were mysteries then, and we are no less mysteries now.”

Twilight hunched her shoulders. “I’m getting sick of all the mystery around here.”

“I as well.” Luna moved to the side as an orderly pushed an empty stretcher back the way they came. “It is said to be the honor of kings to reveal a matter, though.”

Twilight barked a laugh. She covered her mouth when the doctor shushed her. “That’s pretty rich,” she continued quietly. The edges of her eyes grew tight. “I guess… I like mysteries when they don’t involve friends.”

They stopped outside a gray door.

“There’s no pretending otherwise,” Luna said. She opened the door and stepped inside.

Celestia lay on an oversized bed. Her mouth was covered by a mask, with a tube leading up to it. She was covered with white blankets. Her coat was matted, and her skin held a worrisome pallor. A pulse monitor was hooked to the side of the bed, showing an erratic line.

“No heart, but a pulse,” Dr. Fine said. “It’s unprecedented.”

Noticing that neither of the princesses were paying any attention to him, the doctor took his leave. “Ten minutes.”

Spike came up to the side of the bed. He rested his claw-tips on the mattress. “H-hay, Princess. It’s Spike. I brought Twilight. We’re both… We’re glad to see you’re safe.”

Luna stared at her sister. She rubbed the damp tracks on her cheeks. “I never thought… it would be like this.”

Twilight couldn’t breathe. The walls closed in, growing tighter and tighter until there was nothing but she and Celestia. She wobbled.

Spike jumped up and carefully laid his hands on her shoulders. “Twilight! Easy. Just take in deep breaths, okay? Deep breaths. She’ll be alright. I promise.”

One of his tears dropped onto Twilight’s hoof and sizzled. She yelped and pulled it back. Spike flinched back, keeping his face away from her.

Her eyes focused on Spike. She wheezed. “I c-can’t—”

She lunged forward, wrapping her forelegs and wings around him. He held the sobbing princess close, careful not to burn her with his tears.

Luna stood over her sister. She looked her up and down, running a gentle spell across the surface of her body. She found no enchantments, ill-willed or benevolent. Just the potions and elixirs administered by the doctors. She leaned down and kissed Celestia on the forehead.

“Dearest sister… what are we?”

Author's Notes:

Here we have the latest story set in my own little world. References will be made to previous stories in the continuity, but I'll do my best to fit them in a way that doesn't require you read anything but this particular fic.

Goodbye

“She’s awake.”

Care shifted on her bed as the doctor’s voice came from outside the door. Her mane pulled until she lifted her back to let it free. She looped the mane over her shoulder and smoothed out her bed sheets to make herself the least bit presentable. When the open door revealed two princesses on the other side, she bowed her head with a quick nod.

“Your Majesty, your Highness.” Care cleared her throat. “I would bow, but—”

“No need for apologies, Captain,” Luna said. She walked to the far side of the room to give Twilight space to enter. “You are looking much better.”

Care lifted her hoof, where a single intravenous cord was feeding her painkillers. “They took me off ambrosia yesterday, once my muscles healed.” She touched the bandage on her forehead that sat just above her eye. “So, to what do I owe the visit?”

Twilight levitated a scroll from her saddlebags. A pen followed it out. “Are you ready to talk about the attack, Care? It’s fine if you aren’t but… well…”

Luna extended a wing. “We must do it eventually, but only when you are ready. Would you tell us about that night at the opera?”

Care rested against the pillow. “The guards outside told Caution what was going on, so he went out to help. A few minutes later, a pegasus mare tore the curtain away and stabbed the princess with a guard’s spear. She shouted”—Care squinted as she thought—“‘Thus to all usurpers.’”

Twilight scribbled on the scroll. She looked to Luna. “Usurpers? Is she a tribalist? Or maybe a pegasus purist?”

“It does us no credit to jump to conclusions, Twilight.” Luna inclined her head. “Can you describe the mare?”

“Yes,” Care said. “Pale blue coat. Wispy white mane and tail. Gray eyes.”

Luna tilted her head. She was silent for a long moment. “Curious. Distinguishing features?”

The tip of Care’s tongue stuck out from between her lips. “There was a deep scar on her left cheek. The skin immediately around it was bald. It looked like it came from an untreated wound.”

Luna pressed her hooves together and propped her chin up. She shook her head. “Nay. Too much of a coincidence.”

Care pulled the blanket higher. “I’m sorry?”

“Consulting with myself. Please forgive me.” Luna placed her wingtip on Twilight’s shoulder. “Would you carry on?”

“Of course,” Twilight said. She put pen to paper. “Can you describe the mare’s cutie mark, Care?”

Care’s jaw clenched tight. “Yes,” she hissed. “It was a cloud pattern, spiraling outward. Storm clouds heavy with rain. There was a small hollow in the center.”

Twilight dotted an “I.” “That’s odd. It’s a—”

“Hurricane,” Luna said. She drew up beside Care’s bed. “Captain, think very hard. How did Celestia react to the appearance of this mare?”

Care’s eyes flicked from Luna to Twilight, but the younger princess just shrugged. “With surprise,” Care said. “So shocked she couldn’t move. She said ‘Hurricane’ just before the mare stabbed her.”

Twilight nearly dropped her pen. “What? Who could shock Celestia so badly that she wouldn’t be able to react—?” She stood up. “Luna? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen… um…”

Luna stared ahead with wide eyes. Her jaw was slack and her wings drooped. “I-it is alright, Twilight. It is a c-cliché, but it is apt.” She finished with a whisper, “I look as though I have seen a ghost.”

Care sighed. She stared up at Luna with bitter intensity. “So did Celestia.”

“Okay,” Twilight said. She combed a hoof through her mane. “Okay. But why? Whose ghost?”

“Why?” Luna rubbed her eyes. “‘Why’ is because the mare with those colors, that scar, and that cutie mark has been dead for years. There is no conceivable way for her to exist in the here and now.”

“Please.” Twilight walked around to the other side of the bed. “If something is inconceivable, that just means that nopony’s thought of it yet.” She unfurled the scroll and raised her feather pen. “Now then, who do you believe the mare is?”

“Commander Hurricane.”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and her pen did not move. “Commander Hurricane.”

“Yes.”

“The Commander Hurricane.”

“Yes.”

“The one Rainbow Dash played in the Hearth’s Warming Eve play?”

“Yes, Twilight.” Luna took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Twilight gritted her teeth. “You’re right. That’s impossible.”

“I know.” Luna bowed her head. “But impossibility has a habit of laughing in my face.”

“Okay,” Twilight said. Her eye twitched. “Let’s take a moment to pointlessly speculate on why one of the founders of Equestria would rise from the dead, murder Royal Guards, and try to put the princess on ice.” She grinned with not an ounce of humor. “Captain, what are your thoughts on the matter?”

Care shifted away from her. “I couldn’t say.”

“We value your input. Luna?” Twilight turned her false smile on the elder princess. “Care to address my growing concern for your mental state?”

Luna scowled. “It is dwarfed by mine for yours! Get a hold of yourself. We have only begun.”

“Only begun?” Twilight’s wings flared out. “Only begun! Six ponies are dead and four are hospitalized, one of them Celestia! How much farther are we going to have to go, Luna?”

“We keep going until the assassin is defeated!” Luna stood tall. The room darkened as the shadows grew around her, cloaking her in blackness. “Do not take me for a fool, Twilight, I am aware of the price ponies have already paid!”

Care’s throat went dry at the display. She turned to Twilight, who grimaced with unadulterated belligerence. After several heartbeats, the purple alicorn closed her eyes and bowed her head.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said. “I have nothing to be angry with you about.”

The shadows faded. “We all have reasons to be angry, Twilight,” Luna said. “But most certainly not at each other. Please stay by my side. I need that magnificent brain of yours.”

Twilight smirked. “Well, I think you’re stuck with it.”

Care tapped her hooves together. “May I ask something?”

Luna and Twilight started in place. They turned to the unicorn they’d both forgotten about. “Yes, you may, Captain,” Luna said.

“Well, how could a mare from ancient history be in the here and now?” Care shrugged. “How is that possible?”

“I’d like to ask the same thing,” Twilight said.

Luna smiled. “Aren’t you the mare who told me about the time you were visited by yourself from the future?”

“But… but that…” Twilight floundered. “But that was a week, and you’re talking—”

“Hundreds of years.” Luna sucked in a long breath. “But stranger things have I seen.”

“It’s a place to start,” Twilight said. “As long as the assassin isn’t some insane history buff who’s decided she’s the reincarnation of Commander Hurricane and wants to cleanse the world of impurity.”

Luna flicked her ears forward. “I believe you will do well to follow this small lead.”

Twilight tapped a hoof on the floor. “Luna, what reason would Hurricane have for attacking Celestia? What does she want?”

“I do not know, Twilight.” Luna peered out the small window in the hospital room, which overlooked Canterlot downtown. “She never seemed to dislike us, in all the time we spent with her.” She closed her eyes. “It was she who taught us to fight.”

Twilight wrote down a few notes. “Fine. I’ll take what I know and look for clues. I know a few subject matter experts I could consult, too.”

“Thank you.” Luna hugged Twilight from the side. “I believe the matters of state shall be easier to handle knowing that this mission is in your capable hooves.”

“I want in, too,” Care said.

Both princesses looked at her in silence. Care pressed her case, “I want to help you with the mission. I’m Celestia’s personal guard. I keep her safe. Right now, that means tracking down her attacker and stopping them before they come back to finish the job. Please let me do this. At the very least, I can help… apprehend the assassin.”

“‘Apprehend,’” Luna repeated. “And bring her to justice.”

“Justice. Absolutely.” Care gave her a firm nod. “May I help?”

Luna stared into her eyes. When Care held her gaze, the princess lifted her head. “If Twilight has no objections.”

“No, I don’t,” Twilight said. “I’m sure you’ll be a big help, Care.”

“Thank you,” Care Carrot said. “I won’t let you down.”

After Twilight and Luna had left, she added under her breath, “Again.”

Spike was waiting outside the door. “Well? Do you have anything to go on? Can you find the attacker?”

Twilight stuffed the scroll in her bags. “Not much more than a hunch, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll be heading back to Ponyville at the end of the week. You should go today.”

Spike wrung his hands together. “What if Celestia wakes up before then?”

“Then you’ll still be one of the first to know, and you can hop on the next train right away.” Twilight rubbed his back as they and Luna walked down the hall. “I promise, she’s safe in the hospital. She wouldn’t want you worrying over her all the time.”

“No, and she wouldn’t want to be alone, either.” He stomped a foot, and his claws made marks in the floor. He hunched his shoulders and shied away from a passing nurse. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Twilight walked on. She wrapped her wing around his shoulders. “Spike, I think it’ll be good for you. You’re gonna make yourself sick if you just stay here.” She held a hoof to his lips. “Don’t say you’re abandoning her. You’re not. You can do so much more good going about your own daily life than standing outside her door sending up prayers.”

They came to the stairs. Twilight smiled as best she could. “So, are you gonna go back home?”

“Yeah.” He looked away. “Ponyville needs a librarian, I guess.”

Before going down the stairs, he waved at Luna. “Princess, I wanna apologize, but I was listening at the door.”

Luna frowned. “That is rude and dangerous, young dragon.”

“I know, but what I heard…” He shifted from all fours to his hind legs. “The mare said ‘Thus to all usurpers. I think that means you’re the next target, Princess Luna.’” He looked from one pony to the other. “Be careful. Both of you.”

He skittered down the staircase.

“I think he loves too well,” Luna said.

“It is impossible to love ‘too well,’” Twilight said. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

“It is like you said, he will make himself sick out of worry. If he stays, he’ll completely abandon his own care. He will grow weaker until he runs out of love to give, and then he’ll be a mere shell.” Luna opened a nearby window. “You were right to send him away.”

“I didn’t send him away, I sent him ahead.” Twilight rubbed her foreleg as she watched Luna climb out the window. “What are you doing?”

Luna hovered beside the hospital building. She pointed her horn at the horizon. “It’s time to do my duty.” She gasped as her eyes glowed white.

The horizon took on a purple sheen that gradually faded to orange. The stars winked out one by one. The inky blackness of space was pushed aside by the rising sun. When the Greater Light was high in the sky, the moon dipped beneath the earth.

Luna exhaled in a rush, her wings making slow, even flaps. She lowered herself to the ground and lay so that her trembling limbs could regain their strength. Twilight landed beside her.

“Celestia would be proud,” she said. “It was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Luna said. “I-I have not practiced much besides the last few days.”

They sat together on the lawn, the sun warming them with its bright rays. Luna closed her eyes and lifted her chin. “We must decide what to tell the people. We cannot hide the fact that she was attacked.”

Twilight frowned. “What’s to tell? She’s alive. It’ll bring hope.”

“Yes.” Luna spread her wings to catch more heat. “But if the assassin were to find out that she failed in her mission, would she not try again?”

Twilight rubbed the short blades of grass with her wingtip. “I don’t feel comfortable using Celestia as bait.”

“No, I shall serve as bait, Twilight.” Luna opened her blue eyes. “Spike, I feel, was right in that regard. So, is there a way to reassure the people while dissuading the assassin?”

“Maybe—” Twilight started. She nibbled the tip of her mane. “Maybe we can tell the truth… but make it a lie.”

Luna lowered her eyebrows. “I do not follow.”

“Tell the people Celestia is alive, but tell it in a way that seems unbelievable.” Twilight framed a box with her hooves. “Tell them how well she’s doing. How fully she’s recovering. Tell them how much she misses being out and about, and how she can’t wait to get back to her duties.”

Luna sneered. “Those falsehoods would taste sour on my tongue.”

“Exactly.” Twilight leaned closer, pulling he mane out of her mouth. “It’ll be obvious you’re lying. Most people want to believe Celestia’s okay, they’ll take what you say at face value. Anypony who’s looking for a lie will notice yours right away. The assassin knows what she did. She knows that nopony who takes a spear to the chest is gonna be up and about so soon.”

Luna’s mouth dipped open. “And ‘Hurricane’ will believe the opposite of what I say.” She sniffed. “When did you become a politician, Twilight?”

Twilight shook her head. “I can’t remember if it was before or after I sold my soul to Tirek.”

Luna gave her a startled double-take.

“That was a joke, Luna,” Twilight said. “Just joking.”

Care knocked before entering Caution’s room. The earth pony stallion lifted his head. “Come in, or were yah gonna do that regardless?”

“Probably.” Care wheedled her intravenous drip along behind her in a cart. “We have a lead on Celestia’s attacker.”

“Great,” Caution Tape said. “Lemme know when the kids down in tracking nab the witch.”

Care pulled up a chair and sat beside his bed. She looked around his room and saw a bundle of balloons next to the window. By his bedside, a pile of cards sat in various positions. “Family visited?”

“True enough. You’d ’ave thought oi stopped an army of diamond dogs singlehandedly, from the hero’s welcome oi got.”

Care smiled. “I thought you did that daily.”

“Naw, only for special occasions.” He narrowed one eye. “Speakin’ of which, wot’s the occasion for visiting me?”

“Like I said, we have a lead on the attacker.” Care crossed her forelegs. “I want you on my team when we track her down.”

Caution yawned. He winced and held his bandaged head. “Oog. You mean now, don’t yah?”

“As soon as we’re on our hooves,” Care said. She rolled her shoulders. “You don’t wanna come.”

“They offered me three months leave, not includin’ hospital time.” Caution put his hooves behind his head. “After the beating we took, oi’m inclined to accept.”

Care’s teeth snapped together. “You can’t just give up—!”

“Oi ain’t givin’ up!” Caution sat up. His eyes crossed from the swirling in his head, but he soon found his balance. “The princess is alive an’ safe. That’s our job, Captain. Now oi’m gonna take some well-earned time off an’ spend it with moi family. You’d do best followin’ moi lead.”

“The job isn’t done,” Care said. “Celestia is down, and it’s up to us to make sure she gets the chance to get back up.”

“No it ain’t.” Caution lowered himself back into his bed and drew up his covers. “Oi’ll come back when the time comes, but for now, moi part’s over.”

“I’m not gonna rest until the assassin is dead meat, Caution.”

“You’re not gonna rest until you get yourself killed.” Caution put his hoof on Care’s shoulder. “Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t go provin’ the ponies right wot say a soldier’s job is to die.”

Care scowled. “Isn’t it?”

Caution shook his head. “No. A soldier’s job is to make sure that people get to live peacefully, and the bad guys get put in their place.” He let his hoof drop. “Here in Equestria, at least. We’re here to protect.”

“I failed that mission, Caution.” Care tested her horn before grabbing a cup of water with her hooves. “I hesitated. I let the assassin—this ‘Hurricane’ person—hurt the ruler of our nation, and, and a friend. And…” She shut her eyes tight. “And she killed the ponies in our squad. She murdered them outright. How can you stand for that?”

“Oi can’t. And oi won’t.” Caution shuddered. “But oi ain’t ready to go back yet, Captain. Sometimes all yah can do is sit back an’ pray that the Creator intercedes.”

He flashed pearly white teeth. “Oi’m gonna get moiself recharged and then come out with hooves swingin’. Don’t be worryin’ ’bout that.”

Care laughed. She slugged his shoulder and stood. “I’ll see you at the funeral, then?”

“Aye.” Caution rolled onto his side. He blinked moisture from his eyes. “Full dress uniform. The works. Our mates deserve all oi have tah give.”

Care sniffed. She walked out of the room, failing every attempt to wipe the gnarled frown from her face. “They do, Caution. And Hurricane will deserve everything I give her, too.”

Caution covered up his head with his blankets. “Don’t do anything stupid, Captain. Please.”

Crowds lined the streets on a breezy, early-autumn day. Red, yellow, and orange leaves drifted down with every step of the hoof. A few foals ran and played somewhere behind their parents. Their laughter carried through the otherwise quiet air.

Care’s face was stone. Unmoving, unexpressive, solid. Her armor was polished to a shine, down to the last rivet. The purple sash of her captain’s rank was draped over her shoulder and across her chest. Her orange coat and turquoise mane were hidden under the illusory white and blonde of the Royal Guard.

She marched before six caskets in silence, save for the rattling of her armor. Caution followed close behind her, pulling the caskets with his full might. Bringing up the rear of the procession was Windblown, the pegasus guard who had escaped the assassination with dislocated wings. He carried the Banner of the Alicorn Sisters with one foreleg as they walked through the streets of Canterlot.

Only three of the nine remained, and barely that.

Caution flicked a switch on his yoke, separating the front three caskets from the rest. He carried them across a field, to where three fresh graves had been dug. Luna waited for him there.

“Each of these coffins holds an earth pony soldier; the brave souls who fell defending their princess and their country. They will be honored by their families, and live on in stories told by those that loved them. May they one day be reunited.” Her horn glowed as she lowered them into the graves. “Sons and daughter of the earth, return to the clay from whence you came. Bring life to the land you worked, that others may follow in your stead.”

Windblown stood by two of the caskets. With the banner still in his grip, he nudged his burden forward with his forehead. He came to a series of stone slabs, stacked in a pyramid. Luna flew over, and again gripped the coffins with her magic.

“Each of these coffins holds a pegasus soldier; the brave souls who fell defending their princess and their country. They will be respected by their fellows, and followed in their wing beats. May they forever fly, until the day they return.” She set the caskets down and lit the pyre. “Sons of the sky, return to the wind you were born into. Fly free and remind us how much we need each other.”

The caskets and the bodies within burned, and their ash filled the sky. Luna retreated from the altar, turning to the final pony.

They walked together a ways, pulling the final coffin between them. They were followed by the other soldiers from a distance. They came to a series of cave opening in the side of the mountain.

Care pulled the casket into one cave. Her horn glowed the same pink as her eyes, lighting the way. She and the princess found an alcove marked with a family seal.

“This coffin holds a unicorn soldier; the brave soul who fell defending his princess and his country. He will be honored by history, and remembered throughout the age. May he lie in eternal sleep, until the time when all awake.” Luna pushed the coffin into the recess. “Son of the sun and moon, enter your rest. Light the sky with your warmest dreams, and fill our hearts with the fullest of hopes.”

They left the cave. Caution rolled a large stone over the entrance, ending the ceremony with the resounding crash of rock on rock. The guards lined up before Luna and bowed.

“Please stand, my little ponies.” Luna waited until they were upright. At that point, she bent her knee and lowered her own head. “It is to you I must give reverence. To all of you. Without you, my sister would have fallen that night.” Her lips trembled as water dripped from the corners of her eyes. “Thank you. So much.”

Care felt a lump form in her throat. “Th-that’s why we’re here, your Majesty.”

Luna took a calming breath. “Caution, Windblown, your leave begins now. Care, I think there is somewhere else you need to be.”

The crowds had already dispersed by the time the guards reached the city. The returned to the barracks, removed their armor, and exchanged a final embrace.

They went their separate ways.

Bronze parts clattered on the tabletop. Gears, levers, springs, casings, screws. Ticking was heard all around as an earth pony worked diligently at his latest creation. He gripped a screwdriver between his lips, making small adjustments here and there. He rubbed oil onto the joints with a cloth, then sat back.

“Come on then, my little beauty,” he said to his device, “walk.”

His brown hoof wound the key on the back of the machine. He set it gently on the table and released it. It ticked and tocked as a thin leg moved forward at a painfully slow pace. It touched the table, and another of its four legs made the journey forward.

He tousled his own unruly, dark brown mane. “Maybe there’s too many teeth in the one gear. Or too few in the other. Maybe I got them switched around.” He nudged the device with his nose. It tottered on two legs for a second, then righted itself. “Gyroscope works just fine. I’d say that makes it a success.”

He lowered a pair of dark goggles over his eyes and lifted a blowtorch. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, there’s no success that can’t be made better with a second draft!”

There was a knock at the door. Dinky Doo poked her head in. “Mister Turner? There’s somepony here to see you.”

“Tell them I’m in a meeting,” Time Turner said. He opened the gas nozzle of the torch. “Tell them I’m speaking with some very important people.”

Dinky narrowed her eyes. “More important than a princess?”

“No… no, probably not.” He pushed up his goggles and turned to her. He flicked a piece of flint across a rock absently. “What? Why’d that come to mind?”

Dinky pushed the door open all the way, revealing the clock shop where she worked as a cashier. “Because the pony that wants to see you is Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

The flint scratched one last time. “Princ—”

The torch ignited from the spark. Time Turner held it away from his body with a yelp. “Shoot! Blast! Cuss darn you—!”

Dinky’s horn glinted as she turned the gas valve off from across the room. “You need to be more careful, Mister Turner.”

“You don’t say, you really don’t say.” He set the blowtorch down and hunched over his table. “Did the princess say why she paid a visit?”

Dinky shrugged. “Just that it was urgent.”

“Ah. Urgent visits are always the most pleasant.” He gripped a gear between his hooves. “Nopony just takes their time anymore. Nopony just takes it easy.”

His device reached the edge of the table and stopped. The ticking resumed as it switched directions.

“Time Turner,” Twilight Sparkle said from behind Dinky, “did I come at a bad, well, time?”

“Of course not, of course not.” He turned his chair around with a plastic smile on his face. “Tell me, what brings Ponyville’s favorite princess to my humble little clock shop?”

Twilight Sparkle wore a warm saddle to keep off the autumn chill. She walked into the back room of Time Turner’s shop and sat in the middle of the floor. “In a phrase, time travel.”

Time Turner grinned. “Begging your pardon, your Highness, but from what I hear, you’re the only pony in this room who’s time traveled.”

“Turner, do us both a favor and drop the attitude.” Twilight pointed at him. “I know about what you did as a Knight of Harmony. Are you really going to sit there and deny all the work you’ve done—?”

“Absolutely,” Time Turner said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Actually, Mister Turner, I was just about to close up shop for the night.” Dinky crossed one lanky foreleg over the other. “If that’s alright with you.”

A clock on the wall of his workroom, one of many, chimed a “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” as it struck five. Time slid out of his chair and waved a hoof. “Go on home, Dinky. I’ll lock up. Tell your mother I said hullo.”

Dinky smiled, bowed to Twilight, and slipped out the front door.

“That beanpole of a girl finally learned to stop tripping over her own hooves, but hasn’t quite managed not to trip over Pipsqueak,” Time Turner said. “Bless their hearts.”

Twilight’s cheek pulled back in a half-smile, which disappeared almost instantly. “What they hay is the blowtorch for? I could understand a welder, but—”

“None of your business.” Time shoved his chair up to the table, causing his device to wobble. It creaked to a halt once the spring was fully unwound. “In fact, I don’t think any of my life is your business, and if it is, it does not belong to you exclusively. I would be much obliged if you would please step out.”

Twilight forced a groan of exasperation back down into her chest. With some effort, it didn’t come out. “I need your help, Turner. It’s a matter of life and death.”

He scooped the various baubles off of the table and into a plastic box. He carried it over to a shelf and shoved it into place. “Well, that’s a matter in and of itself. Whose life and whose death are we talking about?”

“Princess Celestia’s,” Twilight said.

“Oh.” Time Turner’s forelegs fell limp at his sides as he sat beside the shelf. “Oh, well that’s—”

He rubbed his head and pulled out a chair. He indicated another on the far side of the table. “Very well, you’ve got my attention. Spell it out. What happened?”

“There was an assassination attempt. Her injuries aren't public yet, so don’t tell anypony.”

Time Turner blew a long breath through his lips. “Yes, because when you think of ponies who blab, I’m the first to come to mind.”

“I wasn’t saying…” Twilight rubbed her temples. “Never mind. The thing is, she’s alive, but she’s hurting. We need to track down the assassin before she strikes again.”

Time Turner lifted a wry eyebrow. “Time is of the essence.”

“Don’t be a smart-aleck.”

“I wasn’t. I was being candid.” Time leaned on the table. His hoof bumped his walking machine, causing it to wobble. “I want to help Celestia. Creator knows I owe it to her. But I’m not a knight anymore, Princess. I can’t do it. I can’t just go gallivanting off.”

“I’m not asking that.” Twilight brought her hooves together. “I just want to consult with you in an area of your expertise. And believe me, you’re the expert here.”

Time Turner looked around his workroom. Clocks in various states of disrepair lined the walls, some in the process of restoration, some cannibalized for parts. He settled on the one functioning cuckoo clock, ticking away. “What do you want to know?”

“We have a small lead. It might be nothing, but right now…” Twilight shrugged. “We think the assassin might be a time traveler. Is it possible to travel into the future?”

Time chuckled. “Of course it is. As a matter of fact, we do it all the time. We’re all on a one-way trip to the future, Sparkle.”

“I mean magically—”

“Magically assisted, of course.” Time’s chair groaned as he pushed it back. “Theoretically, you can go as far forward as you want.”

Twilight’s shoulders slumped. “Even a thousand years?”

Time Turner’s back went stiff. The hairs on his back stood up. “It is very much not recommended. You… can’t go back.”

“Huh?” Twilight said. “I went back in time.”

“Yes. Yes you did.” Time flicked his tail. “How much power did that take?”

Twilight gulped. “Too much.”

“For how long did you stay before being ripped back to the future?”

“About thirty seconds.”

Time Turner nodded slowly. He stood up and walked around the room. He gave one broken clock more scrutiny than it really needed. “That’s the thing. You can’t change the course of time. You can interrupt it. You can speed it up. Slow it. You can fudge it a little. You can’t turn it back on itself without getting hurt.”

Time bowed his head. “You got hurt, didn’t you? How far back did you go?”

Twilight licked her lips. “A week.”

“Seven days.” Time’s ears bent low. “And when you were pulled back, you aged, didn’t you? One year for each of those days.”

Twilight cleared her throat. She cleared it again before she could get the words out. “Yes.”

“Did anypony notice?”

“No,” Twilight said. “I wasn’t… I didn’t look my best.”

“But when you got cleaned up, you noticed.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You were—what?—seventeen?”

“Yeah.” Her lips trembled. She took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her mouth. “It was kinda a shock. I got over it.”

“And you hid it.” Time smirked. “Makeup and illusion spells are wondrous things, are they not?”

Twilight Sparkle’s lip twitched. “You got hurt, too, didn’t you?”

Time Turner ignored her. He continued around his shop in a loop, scratching his cheek. “So to answer your original question: Yes, it’s possible to travel a thousand years into the future with a powerful enough spell. Or device. It’s not recommended, because you’ll leave behind everything you ever thought you knew.”

Twilight stretched her wings. “What could drive a pony to do something like that?”

“Terrible things, Princess,” Time Turner said. “Blasted terrible things.”

Twilight stood up. She folded her wings against her saddle and backed toward the door. “Well, thank you for your time, Turner. You have been helpful, despite yourself.”

As she reached for the door handle, Time Turner spoke up. “Princess Sparkle—”

He wound up his walking machine and set it wobbling across the tabletop. “If you need anything else… if it’ll help Celestia… please let me know. I do want to help her.”

Twilight tilted her head with a small smile. “I’ll keep in touch.”

Author's Notes:

Here we start to slowly, surely meet the members of the team. I'm not above alternate interpretations of characters.

Ponyville

A crystal radio hissed with static in the darkness. A hoof reached out to adjust the frequency, as much as was possible on the homemade device. A voice made itself heard from amidst the white noise.

“Prin—una had this—at the pre—onfrence this morning,” a pony with a good radio voice and a better radio face said.

It switched to the unmistakable, bellowing voice of the younger High Princess. “It is with a heavy heart that I l—those ponies to rest. However, their sacrif—as not in vain. I am most rel—ed to report that my sister, Princess C—ia, yet lives.”

The scar itched on her cheek. The mare in the dark forced herself not to scratch it, because that would only cause a great amount of pain. She knew the ways of old wounds. She knew the power of poison. She feared poison.

Poison went straight for the heart and shut it down.

“Her injuries were heav—ut she heals well,” Luna continued. “Please join me in praying that her r—ery is swifter still. She bids you all a warm gr—ting, and is eager to ret—o her duties in short order.”

It was the third time they’d played that clip in the same day. Heavy, yet cheerful. Optimistic. Hopeful.

Either deluded or distorted.

Celestia, the scarred mare knew, was the princess with an outward appearance of happiness and a core of unmovable rock. Luna was the princess with an outward appearance of solemnity and an inner core of certain… childlike qualities.

Luna did not do well playing the part of her older sister.

The mare fiddled with the radio, eliciting only a high-pitched whine. She switched frequencies until she found a station playing slow, soft melodies through the static. A voice like silver bells joined in. A modern opera.

It wasn’t quite the same.

The mare lifted a silver thermos and unscrewed the cap. She used it to measure out a couple millimeters of golden liquid, which she threw down her gullet with a grunt. Ambrosia burned on its way down. The healing properties of the breezie-brewed beverage were astonishing. Unbelievable. Miraculous.

Deadly.

She’d seen the effects of an overdose of ambrosia. She’d seen what happens when a pony ingests too much of a medicine that promotes rapid cellular growth. She’d seen the blood clots, the burst vessels, the fatal strokes.

She’s seen a substance meant to heal become a poison.

She checked beneath the bandages around her chest and wings. The broken bones had set. The burns had been eaten away by the regenerative properties of ambrosia.

Still that accursed scar itched.

It was much the same for Equestria. What was meant to be a healing salve had become a poison, one with the name of Princess. A poison that was respected, honored, loved.

She would fight poison with poison. She would go straight for the heart and, like any good poison, stop it cold.

She shut her eyes, lay down on a ratty cot, and listened to the song.

Care Carrot disembarked the train amid a cloud of steam. For a moment, she was back in Manehattan, a mare in a crowd. Awash in a sea of color. Sheltered by a curtain of noisy greetings and heartfelt goodbyes.

Then the noise ended. The crowds dispersed. She was alone. In Ponyville, the bustle only lasted as long as there was something to bustle about.

Care buttoned her red plaid coat up to her neck and picked up her luggage. It rolled along beside her, its handle secure in her orange magic glow. The train station was close by the downtown market, fittingly enough, ready to catch new arrivals’ eyes with shiny knickknacks and fresh food. An apple stand here, a basket weaver there, a bevy of gold bits and silver pieces changing hooves…

And at the end of one particular row, a familiar face. Care pushed through the fairly sparse crowd, leaves crunching under her hooves. The stall’s sign held the picture of three crisp, crunchy carrots, bright orange and lush green. It was copied off of the curly orange-maned proprietor’s cutie mark. Care put a smile on her face and laid her forelegs on the stall’s table. “Hi, Golden Harvest.”

“Welcome to the harvest,” the mare said. “I was just about to close up, but there’s always time for one more customer. What can I get you?”

“I might have to grab some carrots another time.” Care chuckled as she presented her profile to Golden Harvest. “I just wanted to say ‘hay’ to my favorite cousin.”

Golden squinted at the mark that was very much like hers, except that Care’s greens were connected. “Carrot… Care? Is that you? I haven’t seen you since the reunion!”

“The one and only,” Care said. “How’s the Ponyville branch of the Carrot clan, Goldie?”

“We’re absolutely fine!” Golden Harvest swung her hoof. “Good bunch this year. We’ve got a bundle of carrots—and various other vegetables, if you don’t mind me saying—ready to ship. Nowadays I mostly run the stall for fun.”

Silence descended between the two once Golden Harvest finished. She cleared her throat. “So, how are things for the Manhattan Carrots? Your farm was east of the city, right?”

Care pursed her lips. “East of the city is the ocean, actually. We’re a little north.”

“Oh.” Golden scratched the back of her neck. “So how are things… up north?”

“Good?” Carrot scrunched her nose. “I think. I’ve been doing a lot of guard work. Haven’t been home much.”

“Oh.” Golden Harvest’s eyes lit up as she reached for the next conversation topic. “What do you guards think about the whole Celestia assassination thing?”

Care cringed. “I was there.”

“Oh, wow,” Golden said. “What happened? Is the princess alright? I mean, everybody’s heard Princess Luna on the radio, but—”

“I’m really not allowed to talk about it much.” Care shuffled her hooves. “But Celestia’s gonna be just fine. I know she is.”

“Oh.” Golden Harvest ducked beneath her stand and pulled out a couple carrots. “Hay, here’s a little something on me. Cousin to cousin. I gotta close up shop before it gets late.”

Care leaned over the stand and watched Golden gather up her baskets. “Need any help?”

“Nah, nah. I’ve got it.” Golden smiled and waved. “Hay, it was really neat seeing you. Just goes to show that when you’re part of one of the largest earth pony families”—her eyes jumped to Care’s horn, then back down to her baskets—“one of the largest families in Equestria, you’re never really alone.”

Care gave a short sigh through her nose. She lifted the carrots into her luggage. “Yeah. Never alone. Good stuff.”

“You have a good stay in Ponyville, okay?” Golden Harvest called over her shoulder. “Maybe we can run into each other again.”

Care rolled her eyes when Golden wasn’t looking. “Yup. Sounds like a plan. Good luck with the whole ‘carrots’ thing.”

“See yah!”

Care Carrot moved on, her head hanging low. The back of her plaid coat pulled on her tight ponytail, drawing forth a low moan of frustration. She journeyed down another isle, one that led closer to Ponyville’s monolithic crystal castle. After a few paces, she let her mane fall loose.

A passing glassworker’s stand gave her opportunity to glance in a mirror. She arranged her mane so that it flowed over her shoulders. She moved it to one side. She pulled it all back and tucked it under her jacket. She sat down, scowled, and perused the other baubles on display.

“S-see something you like?” a white stallion said. He kept his hooves close together as he walked, as though he was afraid to do anything besides just inch forward. His shoulders were hunched and his head was low. He gave her an almost-smile. “Th-though I’d g-guess not.”

Care gave his shop another glance. Her eyes landed on her ruffled reflection. “Not especially. It’s probably time for a change.”

His pink eyes squinted. He shivered as a chilled wind blew through the market. “Th-that’s been g-going around. Lots of p-ponies want a ch-change, but d-don’t always think ahead of th-the change.”

Care snorted. “I was just talking about a mane cut.”

“Of c-course. Of course y-you were.” He turned to go into his little tent. He started to sort the mirrors and glasswork within. “You can k-keep l—keep looking right until I’m packed to go, j-just in case you find something w-worth keeping. I’ve got to c-catch the five-o’-five to Canterlot.”

Care leaned over to look at him as he worked. His cutie mark was a six-slice color wheel. “You live there or are you just visiting?”

“I t-travel.” He wrapped some bowls in paper and laid them in a box. “Sometimes I s-stay, but m-mostly I travel.”

He held a bleach-white hoof out to her. “Blankety Blank, at y-your service.”

“Nice to meet you,” Care said with a hoof bump. “Care Carrot, at yours.”

He shuffled to the four corners of his tent and pulled up stakes. He saved the mirror in front of her for last, which he eased onto the top of the pile of glasswork. “M-maybe since we’re both travelers, we’ll s-see each other ag-again. Could I c-convince you t-to buy something?”

“Not today, sorry.” Care shrugged. “I’m a little light on cash.”

“Another t-time, then.” He lifted the tent bundle onto his back and rolled his case of glass behind him. “Take c-care, Captain.”

“You too, Blank.” Care tugged at a lock of her mane. Her eyes opened wide as she spun around. “‘Captain?’ I never told him—”

He had vanished. Care took a mental snap-shot of every pony present; none of the features matched even a little. Many ponies carried tent bundles as they closed down shop. Dozens of luggage cases rolled along beside and behind ponies, including her own. Leaves swirled as the wind picked up.

“Okay, nothing odd about that conversation.” She said with a leery smile. “Nothing odd at all.”

“Spike!” Twilight’s voice echoed off the crystalline walls. “I need a letter sent!”

She sat on her throne, in her castle. An incredibly bright, eye-searing castle, but it was home. Her friends’ thrones stood like sentinels, joined together in an open circle of friendship. The crystal seat should have been cold in the autumn weather, but it was heated from within by what she supposed were the “fires of friendship” spoken of in the Hearth’s Warming carol.

A cloud of pens surrounded the throne, joined by a cloud of scrolls. Each pen was writing a different report under Twilight Sparkle’s guidance. Legibility was somewhere between first year grade-schoolers and hoof painting. Further practice was obviously required, in the princess’ opinion. “Spike! Hello? Can you hear me?”

The noise of claws on crystal was joined by the clomp of hooves as Spike approached the throne. He was flanked by Captain Care Carrot. He pulled a scroll out of the sack he always held at his side and pulled a feather pen from behind his ear. “Sorry I’m late. Care and I got lost somewhere around the second foyer.”

Twilight blinked. “We only have one foyer.”

“Whatever that other big room is called, then.” He tapped the pen against the paper. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Twilight smiled at Care. “Just a second, please.”

Care nodded and stood at strict attention, which was distinctly offset by her flannel jacket and her loose, turquoise mane.

“Dear Mom,” Twilight Sparkle said, “I really need your help. No, it’s not about money and it’s not boy troubles. You can stop asking me about those.”

Spike coughed into his fist.

“Shut up, Spike. Instead, I need to ask you a question of great importance. Again. Where might I find the author of the Daring Do books? This might mean the life and death of a pony, not to mention the fate of the kingdom. Your help is appreciated. Ex oh, ex oh. With love, Twilight.”

Spike rolled the letter up and burned it. It transformed into a plume of smoke that trailed out the window and towards Canterlot.

Twilight crossed her forelegs. “So, Care, I don’t suppose you have a place to stay here in town?”

Care grimaced. “No, your Highness, I do not.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve got a guest room ready for you.” Twilight pulled a scroll up to her face, tried to read her own penmanship, and soon grew cross-eyed. “As a matter of fact, we’ve got tons of guest rooms. Dozens. Gazillions. We’ve got more rooms than I’ll ever know what to do with.”

Care lifted her head to view the high-vaulted ceiling. “Princess Celestia managed,” she said with a grin.

Twilight laughed. “Good. So it’ll only take me a thousand years to get used to this place. Excellent.”

Spike burped a plume of green smoke. Twilight caught the letter that materialized. “Thank you, Spike,” she said. She slit the letter open with a spell and read aloud. “‘Dear Best Princess, let it not be said that Twilight Velvet stood in the way of the fate of Equestria. You can actually find that silly author skulking around the Everfree Forest right about now, searching out some vaguely-mystical butter knife. She’ll be in close proximity to the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. Give the princesses my best and smack Yearling around for me. With love, Best Mom.’”

Twilight squinted at the bottom of the page. “‘P.S. Spike, make sure Twilight behaves. Love you, too.’”

Spike polished his claws on his chest scales. “Best mom, indeed.”

Care’s brow furrowed. “So we’re headed to the Everfree?”

“I’m headed to the Everfree,” Twilight Sparkle said. “You’re getting settled in. Spike will—”

Care took a step forward. “Hay, I joined up because I wanted to help—”

“You are going to help.” Twilight touched her wingtip to Care’s shoulder. “I’m not going after the assassin right now. Nopony is. I’m just going to grab some information.”

Twilight tilted her horn at Spike. “Why don’t you show her some of the landmarks around town? Help her get acclimated. I’ll be back by evening.”

Spike flexed his arms. “You really should take me with you when you go someplace dangerous. I can help now, you know.”

“I’m not saying you can’t Spike,” Twilight said. “I’m just saying that, like Care, now isn’t the time for those skills. Don’t discount your gentlepony skills.”

Spike shrugged. “I don’t. Be safe.”

“Always.” Twilight nodded at Care before flying off. She exited through a high window, which closed shut after her.

Care moaned deep in her throat. “I’m feeling a little second-rate right now.”

“Welcome to the life of a sidekick.” Spike motioned towards the door. “Shall we?”

As the bird flies, it was a quick trip to the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. The ruins were aged, decrepit, and cold. There was even less of a castle, nearly a decade later, than there was during Nightmare Moon’s return. Weather, magic, and various other phenomena had occurred, and none of it had done the stonework any favors.

But the Everfree Forest was beautiful. In autumn, it was an explosion of reds and oranges and yellows. Swirling in the wind, drifting to the ground, glowing in the light. It was almost enough to forget what an aberration the untamed land was.

Twilight landed in what was once a recognizable courtyard, and was now little more than a stone floor surrounded by rubble. Digging through that rubble were several ponies, donkeys, and at least one camel. They chanted a steady beat as they worked.

“There’s a treasure buried here

That’s not been seen for long years

We dig for knowledge and for gain

We pray for grants to pay our way

“Chalice used by ancient kings

To catch the blood of pigs with wings

Dream catcher for duchesses’ bed

Or flyswatter for the servant’s head

“There’s a goal that must be found

The one time history comes ’round

Dynamite blows blockage up

And bulldozes the china cup”

A griffon, who was drawing a scale map on a spare scroll, looked up at the sound of her wings. He bowed. “Princess Twilight.”

“Hay, Martial. Is Daring around?”

“She’s further into the ruins.” He pointed a talon. “You’re in luck, she’s in a good mood today.”

Twilight let her eyes roll back. “We’ll see how long that lasts. I’m not exactly bringing happy news.”

Martial Paw clicked his beak. “Is it about the Celestia thing?”

“Yeah.” Twilight patted the waterproof saddlebags at her sides. “I’m hoping she can help out.”

Martial Paw went back to drawing his map. “More power to you.”

Twilight crawled over crumbling stone. The core building of the castle was more easily recognizable as such, though only barely. She was thankful again for the foresight to bring the Palace’s library to her own castle. Wet drips echoed in dark crevasses, and the rattle of falling rocks rumbled in the distance.

Twilight turned a corner and entered the old throne room. The walls were bare where restored tapestries had been moved to museums. Scuff marks dug into the floor where heavy furniture had been moved. At the far end of the room, between the thrones, stood a mustard-yellow pegasus mare.

She pulled with all her might against rope attached to a stone slab. The massive thing refused to budge. She slumped to her rump, caught her breath, and started over.

“Need a little help?” Twilight said.

“Don’t need no help!” the pegasus snapped. “I’ve lifted rocks heavier than this thing!”

Twilight brought herself next to the stone, pressed her forelegs and chest against it, and gave it a mighty shove. It slid aside with little resistance. Behind the blockage lay a long, narrow hallway, leading down.

“Okay,” the pegasus said, brushing her grayscale mane out of her eyes. “Okay, you’ve earned your keep, whoever you are.” She lifted her face, then bowed down low. “Oh, uh, your Highness.”

“Get off the floor, you’re embarrassing yourself.” Twilight giggled. “Miss Yearling.”

Daring Do brushed her green shirt off and plopped her pith helmet on her head. “Don’t use my work name, I’m in the field.”

“Then don’t use my work name,” Twilight said. “So, I hear you’re searching for a mystical butter knife.”

“You’ve been talking with your mom.” Daring Do brushed past Twilight and headed down the uncovered hallway. “Twilight’s the best editor I’ve ever had, but darned if she isn’t a pain sometimes.”

Twilight followed close behind her, lighting her horn to cast a purple glow over the two of them. Daring Do kept her voice low. “It’s not a butter knife,” she said. “It was a blade used in sacrifice. Pony sacrifice. The princesses hid it away millennia ago to keep it out of the wrong hands.” Daring raised an eyebrow. “Like Ahuizotl’s.”

“Creepy.” Twilight ducked a cobweb. “And you think you found it?”

“Not really, just a clue about its whereabouts.” Daring Do shook some mud off her feet. “I’m hoping that if anyone’s found it, they just dropped it in a volcano like sensible folks.”

“Chances of that?”

“Pretty much zero.”

“Ahuh.”

Daring Do pushed her helmet back. “Hay, do me a favor. Keep an eye out for quicksand. Some of the foundations of this palace have basically disintegrated.”

Twilight’s hoof squelched in the mud. “Oh.”

Daring Do squinted. “Oh? What’s ‘oh’?”

“Just that the mud is up to my ankles, now.”

Daring Do tossed her mane. “That’s nothing. To get quicksand, you’ve gotta have a real deep puddle of mire. It ain’t quicksand if you can touch bedrock. Now, there was this one time in Zebrabwe—”

With her next step, Daring Do fell into a pool of muck up to her shoulders. Since she had been following close behind, Twilight fell nearly on top of her.

“Don’t struggle!” Daring said. “Just try to float on top. Almost like wading.”

A few bubbles gurbled up out of the mud. Daring sunk deeper. “Oh yeah,” she said. “Everfree dirt. Malevolent Mud.” She sighed as her mouth went under. “Son of a g—”

Twilight’s horn glowed pure white as she teleported herself out of the quagmire. She gripped the tip of Daring Do’s tail in a telekinetic spell and pulled. The pegasus flew out with a wet splurch.

The two mud-covered mares looked at each other for a long moment. Daring seethed. “I should have seen that coming.”

When Twilight didn’t say anything, Daring extended a wing. “Come on, let’s get back to camp. We’ll need a full team to get through this.” She licked the corner of her mouth and spat out dirt. “Say, why’d you come to the dig anyway?”

Twilight walked behind her as they made a much slower trip back up. “I assume you’ve heard about the attack on Celestia?”

Daring’s wings drooped, but she nodded. “Yeah. Just heard on the radio that’s she’s doing fine.”

Twilight looked away. “You know that she’s not really alright, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I was just hoping—” Daring Do sucked in a steadying breath. “What’s it got to do with me, though?”

“The weapons found on the scene. I think you might know what they are.” Twilight said. She opened her saddlebags’ pocket and drew forth a small blade. “Look, but don’t touch. The edge’s almost impossibly keen.”

Daring Do examined it in Twilight’s light. “Classic pegasus design. It dates to Pegasopolis. The design, not the blades, they’re brand new. I’d have to cross-reference, but these might even be in the style of those used in the Elite Squadron, Commander Hurricane’s personal attack dogs.” Daring Do scratched her chin. “It always ticks me off that they cast Pansy as a private in the plays. He was a centurion at the time. Leader of the Elites. Go figure they completely wuss him out just ’cause he was a nice guy.”

Twilight laid a hoof on Daring’s back. “Anything else you can pick up from the blades?”

“Nothing that I can get without a lab and a pile of reference books.” Daring Do scraped the gunk off of her helmet and set it on her grimy head. “But you give me either or both, and I’ll get you what you need. We’ll catch that assassin, you can bet double or nothing.”

“‘We’ll’ catch her, huh?” Twilight said with a chuckle.

“You heard me.” Daring Do’s eyes glinted in the lavender light. “Nothing hurts the princess and gets away with it. Nothing and nopony.”

Once they were out in the open, Daring Do walked up to the griffon cartographer. “Marty, you’re in charge. I’ll be back soonish. Got a personal thing to take care of. National security, you understand.”

“Yes,” Martial Paw said. He gave Twilight a longsuffering smile. “Personal matters of national security are a regular thing around here.”

Twilight giggled. “I’ll take care of her, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Martial extended his wing in the classic pegasus salutation. “We’ll be here when you get back, I’m assuming.”

Daring Do waved a hoof. “Dunno. Might take a while. Finish up here and compile the info. I’ll get in touch once this thing’s wrapped up.” She snorted at his lowered eyebrows. “Come on, Marty, this is a cakewalk. This is what you guys were trained for. You don’t need me.”

She flicked her tail in the general direction of the castle. “By the way, there’s a new passage I just uncovered. Don’t go in without being ready for some sticky mud that actually wants to eat you. Get Humphrey to dry it out with his freaky camel powers.”

“I resent that,” the camel said.

“Well, then,” Martial said, “I guess we’ll see you when we see you, Doctor Do.”

Daring flashed him a cocky grin. She gave the same smile to Twilight. Alright, princess. Teleport us outta here.”

Twilight stretched her muddy wings. “I figured we could just fly. I know Ponyville and Canterlot like the spirals in my horn, but it still takes me a few minutes to calculate a jump between them. I don’t even wanna think about how long it’d take to bring us out of the ever-changing, always-malicious Everfree.”

Daring Do’s ears flicked back. She marched away from the princess and towards Ponyville. “Okay then. We’ll walk.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. She rushed after Daring Do. “Hay, what about flying?”

“Th-there’s mud on our wings,” Daring Do said. “We’d have to wash them off. Nowhere to do that around here unless you think getting eaten by piranha plants sounds fun.”

Twilight’s horn sparked, flinging most the mud off of both her and Daring’s wings. “Problem solved.”

Daring scowled. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

She spread her wings and took a short leap into the air. Her neck muscles tightened as she held herself aloft with slow, steady flaps. Sweat trickled down her sides.

Twilight circled around her with easy strokes. “Are you alright?”

“Let’s just get going,” Daring snapped. “We gotta hurry if we wanna get back before nightfall.”

They flew off at sluggish pace. Twilight stayed close to Daring Do, just behind and beneath her, as the adventurer fought to stay in the air.

Spike gestured with a hand. “There’s the library”—he indicated a restaurant—“the local Hayburger”—he stopped before an officious building—“and City Hall. And now you’ve seen downtown. Congratulations. What do you think?”

Care lightly ground a hoof into the stone road. “It’s nice.”

“Nice.” Spike shrugged. “What? Nothing original? Nothing deeper than ‘nice’?”

“It’s a nice little town you got here, pardner.” Care shrugged. “What more can I say? It is a nice, small, growing city.” She sat on the steps to Ponyville City Hall. “I’ve always preferred bigger cities, like Manehattan and Canterlot.”

Spike propped his hands on his hips. “Well, sure it’s gonna look like a little town next to city-states like those.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Care said. “I just can’t say it actually moves me or anything.”

Spike tapped his lips. “Huh. Different strokes, I guess. So what do you wanna do now? We could grab a bite at Hayburger before we get you settled at the castle.”

“Now, ain’t no friend of mine gonna eat that trash while ah’m in earshot!”

Care turned at the new voice. She stood and bowed in one swift motion when she found the owner. “Lord Mayor Applejack.”

Applejack untied her cravat as she walked out of City Halls’ front door. She tipped her hat to Spike. “Stand on yer hooves, Care, yah don’t gotta eat dirt fer me.”

Care shook Applejack’s offered hoof. “It’s been a long time, Applejack.”

“Shoot, yeah. Been what, a year?” Applejack grabbed Care’s neck in a sideways hug. “Maybe longer. Seems like forever since the new Sapience thing happened.” She grinned and looked Care right in the eyes. “Good tah hear that Celesta’s still kicking after that attack.”

“Yeah,” Care said with as straight a face as she was able. “She’s doing great.”

“Uh huh.” Applejack let a moment of silence hang in the air. She looked at Spike. “You guys got dinner plans with Twilight?”

“Nope,” Spike said. “She’s away and might not be back tonight.”

“Gotchya.” Applejack motioned for them to follow her. “Then let’s all head down to the acres an’ ah can get yah some good, old-fashioned, homemade vittles. It ain’t right fer yer first taste of Ponyville tah be”—she made a sour face—“Hayburger.”

Care shook her head. “I couldn’t impose—”

“An’ you wouldn’t.” Applejack trotted across the street. “C’mon, Spike, let’s show Care what bein’ an Apple’s all about.”

Spike bared his teeth in a glee-filled grin and skittered off.

“But…” Care hurried after the retreating pony and dragon. “But I’m a Carrot!”

“Ah won’t hold that against yah, none.” Applejack snickered. “Think of it as a’ honorary membership, like Spike here.” She patted his tail. “Not a drop of Apple in his blood, unless yah count the gallons of cider he guzzles every season.”

“Somebody has to keep up appearances when Rainbow Dash is outta town,” he muttered.

It was a quarter of an hour before they crested one last hill on the dirt road to Sweet Apple Acres. There was a red barn, freshly painted, in which a few cows were wrapping up their day’s work. The farmhouse was lit from the ground floor windows as the sun disappeared over the horizon. Apple trees stood with bare branches arching over the road. A few pumpkins had been placed here and there as artistic merit warranted.

Apple Bloom bent over a sawhorse, cutting a length of two-by-four to size. Her mane was wrapped in a tight, red bun, and her vest held a wide variety of tools. The beginnings of a wagon stood a few meters away. She turned her head to greet her sister, but froze, her eyes wide.

“Gol’ darn, AJ! Ah didn’t know yah was invitin’ company over.” She frowned to cover up her pink blush. “Ah didn’ even get a chance tah gussie up.”

Applejack smirked. “Is Big Mac cookin’ the soup?”

Apple Bloom tilted her head. “Yeah?”

“Then yah got plenty of time.” She jerked her head. “Come here, though. Gotta introduce yah.”

She laid a hoof on Care’s back. “This here’s Care of the Royal Guard. Personal guard to Princess Celestia herself, if yah can believe it. This here’s mah lil’ sister Apple Bloom.”

Care looked up at the young mare, who had seemed to inherit whatever family gene gave Big McIntosh his size, as she was nearly as tall as him. “Pleased to meet you.”

Apple Bloom’s tools clinked as she curtsied. “Pleasure to make yer acquaintance, ma’am.” She booped Spike on the nose. “Finally gettin’ some real good eats, huh?”

He crossed his arms. “Hay, I can cook pretty well, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, ah still see yah droolin’ every time yah come by.” Apple Bloom grinned for a long moment, then cleared her throat. “Ahem. Anyhow, ah’ll get ready fer supper. See yah guys then.”

She rushed off, pausing only to pick up a dropped hammer.

Then entered the farmhouse. Cheerilee smiled as they approached. She held a small baby in her forelegs as she graded a few early-year tests. “Look, Cinnamon, it’s Aunt Applejack! Say hello!”

“Bubba!” the little burgundy filly giggled.

“So that there’s mah sister-in-law, Cheerilee,” Applejack said, “an’ in the kitchen yer gonna see mah big lug of an older brother.”

Cinnamon gasped when she saw Care’s orange coat. “Owngg! Scooroo!”

Spike lifted a hand and let the baby grab at his claw. “No, that’s not Scootaloo, cutie. It’s Care. Can you say Care?”

“Car!” Cinnamon called out. “Upplejock!”

Care and Applejack stood upright. They shared a slow, mystified glance.

“Wow,” Care said, “the more things change…”

Cheerilee leaned against the table, her cheeks propped up by her hooves. “So when President Mangle said that all the world leaders were coming…”

“He meant all of them,” Care said. She licked a bit of cucumber off of her lips. “Turns out discovering a new sapient lifeform is a big deal.”

“An’ were they colorful or what?” Applejack shifted on her chair, her hat draped over the back. “We had breezies, zebras, donkeys. Most of them idiots, too.”

“Seabreeze wasn’t so bad.” Care slurped up some broth. “And Shardscale was actually pretty cool.”

“Points to them for not bein’ total ignoramuses,” Applejack conceded.

Apple Bloom had traded her tool vest and bun for a simple ponytail tied with a pink bow. “Who’s Shardscale?”

“The Chronicler of the World,” Spike said. “She’s a dragon. I’ve met her a couple times. She flies around from country to country and records the important events that happen.”

Apple Bloom pursed her lips. “What’s she like?”

“Um, I dunno.” Spike bit deep into a slice of bread, covered in apple butter. “She’s big. Kinda funny. I think she’d describe herself as ‘groovy,’ honestly.”

Big Mac spoke up for the first time since saying “hello” to Care. “That mean she’s flyin’ here tah record the assassination attempt?”

Care chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure how it works. I don’t know if she has to be summoned, or if she’s just flying around randomly, or if she just…” She shrugged. “Knows.”

Apple Bloom leaned on her elbow. “How about you, Spike? You gonna be the Chronicler of the World when Shardscale retires?”

“Maybe?” He looked at his bare back. “My wings would have to grow in, first.”

Cheerilee patted her daughter’s head as Cinnamon messily dug into her applesauce. “What brought you to Ponyville, Care?”

Care went through a mental checklist of things she could and could not share. “I’m helping Princess Twilight Sparkle track down the pony responsible for Princess Celestia’s injuries.”

Cheerilee sighed. “I hope you catch them quickly, for all out sakes. Is the princess doing well?”

“Yes.”

The lie slid out easily enough, but the look in Applejack’s eyes said that she caught it.

“Sure as heck,” Applejack said. “Been proven time an’ again that ain’t nothin’ can keep Celestia down fer long. Ain’t that right, Care?”

Care sipped her water. “Sometimes we wonder why she even has guards.”

Author's Notes:

In movies, characters may often have a short musical piece that represents them, referred to as a leitmotif. Since books ain't the most musical thing, authors have to make due with recurring phrases or ideas that encapsulate a character. Part of this story for me is going to be exploring what, if anything, I can do with literary motifs.

Flavor

Notorious flirt. Rarity didn’t much appreciate the moniker, but she wore it well enough. She couldn’t be said to ever lack a kind word, or a genuine compliment, or an appreciative reply. Certainly, she found herself giving and receiving most of such with those of the masculine persuasion, but she could be forgiven her preferences. Couldn’t she?

She could, the mare lounging on a couch decided. Her horn glowed as she raised a delicate glass to her lips and took a dainty sip. The other guests at the soirée also sat on lounges in a circle around a central food platter. Fancypants, the Mayor of Canterlot, was to her right. Fleur de Lis, who was looking as thin as ever, sat to her left. A few other guests of note—the owner of Barnyard Bargains, a rich viscount from the mountainside, a few hangers-on of the same—occupied seats at random around the room. A thousand generous words floated through the mare’s head as she searched for a pony to give them to.

Then Prince Blueblood spoke up, and the mare on the lounge wished very much to not be Rarity at the moment.

“What of you, Lady Rarity? I would have thought you Element Bearers would be tracking that vicious assassin down.” The blond-maned prince’s beverage had been diluted to the tenth degree by water sometime in the last few hours. He had still somehow managed to lose what little subtlety he possessed in the first place.

The mare who regretted being Rarity sighed, brushing her purple curl out of the way of another sip of juice. “As difficult as it may be to believe, your Highness, I’m afraid I’m not the first pony the Guard looks to when recruiting adventurers.”

That earned her a general chuckle around the circle of ponies. Rarity was a beautiful mare, there could be no mistake made, but she wasn’t the most physically fit. She kept herself healthy, and that was the extent of her expedition in exercise.

The viscount munched on a cheese cracker hors d’oeuvre. “He has a point. It was only a few years ago you were featured in just about every headline as the Knight of Generosity.”

“While that may be true, Viscount”—she briefly fumbled over his name. Some sort of stringed instrument?—“Viscount Dulcimer, it sadly is not the case nowadays. Things change. While the connection between my friends remains strong, our powers cannot be said to be the cure-all, end-all for every problem that Equestria faces.”

“Surely you could do something,” Blueblood muttered into a glass of almost pure water.

“Give the mare a break, husband,” Fleur said, hissing out the last word in a thick Fancy accent. “Let the lady be and push on with the business.”

“I agree. Let’s talk about our new business venture.” Fancypants smiled. “We should be careful about asking ‘what more can you do,’ lest it be asked of us, also.”

Blueblood narrowed his eyes and spoke no more.

The mare silently thanked the two of them for forcibly removing her from the spotlight. There was a time to shine, and there was a time to pass barely noticed. She reclined more comfortably and faded into the background of the conversation. She paid the words no mind unless they were to her directly. The words weren’t why she was there.

She was there for the emotions.

There was a general excitement from most of the ponies there, mostly business owners and investors. It tasted like bubbles in the air, popping on the tip of her horn. There was a constant feeling of frustration from Blueblood as he struggled to keep up despite the fog in his brain. That tasted, no surprise, like alcohol; tart and musty. A similar, duller annoyance rose from Fleur as she beheld her husband’s antics.

But there was a subtler strain running through the gamut. A hint of an almost-flavor, contained and repressed. The mare who called herself Rarity shut her eyes tight as she tried to discern its source. It had spice. It had vigor.

“Lady Rarity?”

The mare’s eyes snapped open.

Filthy Rich of Barnyard Bargains gave off an aura of light, silky concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m sorry, I was just…” The mare cursed herself for neglecting to keep up appearances as she scrambled for an excuse. “I was just trying to imagine what the project would look like.” That was what artists did, she told herself, they visualized.

“That’s where my construction company comes in, Miss Rarity.” Viscount Dulcimer’s horn glowed as he lifted schematics into the air. “A four-story building is already under construction for our indoor marketplace. Once it’s done, all we need to do is move your respective stores in and rent out the rest of the space to anypony who cares to join up.”

“A marketplace, raking in the cash rain or shine. In downtown Canterlot, no less.” Blueblood smirked at Fleur. “Not a bad investment, if I do say so myself.”

Fleur shrugged. “It’s your cash to invest, husband.”

The mare faded out of the conversation, focusing once more on the emotions. This time, she was careful to at least look like she was listening.

There! The spice. The vigor. The faintest hint of ill will. The anticipation of something horribly wrong going horribly right. Again, she couldn’t immediately discern the source, but the target?

Blueblood, just as suspected. Someone wanted something very bad to happen to him. Someone was looking forward to that certain something, maybe even catalyzing the awfulness into action. But who?

Fancypants was Blueblood’s buddy from their school days, perhaps the prince’s only real friend. He put up with his antics regularly. That was the history the mare knew. On closer inspection of the stallion’s disposition, she found only the bubbling excitement of a dinner party, and a refreshing splash of interest in Viscount Dulcimer’s project.

Fleur de Lis, wife of Blueblood. The result of a marriage of convenience, some said, in which his bank roll was enriched and her status elevated. Other said it began in love, but soon soured like old milk. Either way, she harbored the most open negative feelings about the prince. But there was no spice. No edge. It wasn’t her.

Filthy Rich was awash in a sour field of self-disappointment, hidden beneath his outer wall of genial interest. The servants were focused on their duties, leaving little room for diabolical plans. The other prospective business partners were checked off one by one as the mare calling herself Rarity examined them.

Then she focused on the viscount and found the source.

She lifted her perception from the emotional layer to the visible. She saw how even in the midst of his presentation, his eyes kept flickering from the blueprint to Blueblood. The spice intensified when a third object intersected his gaze: An unopened bottle. The bottle being saved for the toast. Could it be poisoned?

“In conclusion,” Viscount Dulcimer said as the mare focused on his voice, “Prince Blueblood is correct when he says the indoor marketplace is a wise investment. Shall we drink to a successful business venture?”

The servants came and poured glasses for all those present. The mare looked into her own. Was the viscount planning to poison all of his business partners? It made no sense. The flavor of his ill will was directed only at the prince.

She turned her eyes to Dulcimer and watched him down his whole glass, a smirk on his face. Immunity was possible, but highly unlikely. It didn’t add up for him to be the only investor still alive. He would be caught instantly.

Blueblood swirled his drink around. He brought the glass to his lips.

The mild spice running from the viscount to the prince jumped from bell pepper to habanero. The hair on the back of the mare’s neck stood up. It was time to either act or watch a pony die.

She coiled her legs beneath her, leaped over the hors d’oeuvres table, and knocked the glass out of his magic grip. The room went silent as everypony stared at her.

She ducked her head and grinned. “W-would you believe me if I said it was p-poisoned?”

The door slammed open. A disheveled mare walked in, one with a pure white coat and a purple mane. Her frown was intensified by the waved of boiling anger rolling towards the mare who called herself Rarity. Worst of all, the two of them seemed to be wearing the same dress.

“That mare,” the newcomer said with an accusatory hoof, “is an imposter!”

It was at that point that the mare who called herself Rarity noticed several servants carrying hidden blades underneath their coat sleeves. She also noted that calling herself Rarity was a moot point.

The disheveled Rarity stalked towards the accused. “She drugged me with some sort of magic and left me in a closet! A broom closet! Arrest her at once!”

The servants looked at Blueblood, waiting for him to make the call. The prince’s already foggy mind had no hope of coping with the circumstances. “Um…”

“Grab her!” the viscount helpfully supplied.

The servants rushed her. With no other options in sight, the mare sprouted wings from her back and flew to the ceiling. They were thin, translucent, membranous wings. Once at the top, she flipped over and grabbed the plaster with cloven, claw-like hooves.

The real Rarity shrieked. “Dear darling Creator, it’s a changeling!”

“Kill it!” Blueblood said, some semblance of wit reentering his head. “Bring it down!”

The changeling dove down through the doors, passing by Rarity along the way. She ducked as it flew overhead, its disguise disappearing in a burst of green fire.

The servants chased after the changeling. Once they had gone, Rarity put on a smile and turned to the other businessponies in the room. “I trust the meeting went well?”

The changeling ran into a branching corridor. Once it was out of sight, it climbed up to the ceiling. The servants following it failed to look up when they rushed past. Its chest heaved while it waited a few moments before dropping down. It raced through the Blueblood wing of Canterlot Castle, searching for an out-of-the-way room to take a new face.

It was a stroke of genius to use a pony whose whole life had been recorded by the media. Plenty of openly-available history. That part of the plan went exceedingly well. That said, next time the changeling needed to take more care in making sure the pony wasn’t a light sleeper.

The clack of armor sounded throughout the castle as the general alarm was sounded. The changeling sighed in relief as a hideaway came into view: A broom closet that wasn’t the one Rarity had been napping in. Just as the changeling reached it, a shout came from the end of the hallway.

“Changeling!”

A spear hit the wall right beside the changeling. It yelped and took off at a full gallop, its wings beating and its hooves scraping the marble floor. Its multifaceted eyes widened. It was heading away from most of the escape routes it had planned out if the operation went south.

The air shimmered as a fireball zipped past.

The changeling narrowed its eyes. There was only one viable exit strategy. It turned down one corridor and jumped straight at a stained-glass window. The glass rattled as the changeling’s body collided with it, and the creature was thrown to the ground.

There wasn’t nearly enough time to craft a new face before the changeling was surrounded by spear points. “What are you waiting for?” Blueblood said from the rear. “Stab it! Don’t let it get away!”

The changeling swallowed the phlegm building up in its throat. It turned to one of the guards. “Th-the gig’s up, Bugly! They’ve g-got us!”

The guards turned as one to face “Bugly.” With their attention elsewhere, the changeling zipped out from among them like an arrow from a bow. It flew through the corridors of the castle in a mad rush, not paying much attention to where it was going.

Its journey took it to a long, thin bridge between two towers, a skyway. At one end, two unicorn guards and a pegasus were barring the way. The changeling was flying so fast that it didn’t come to a stop until it was in the middle of the skyway. A quick glance said that yes, the glass enclosing the bridge was thicker here than at the stained-glass windows.

The skyway was soon blocked off at the other end by more soldiers, backed by the prince. The changeling lowered itself to the floor and spread its forelegs wide. “I s-surrender.”

Most of the soldiers stopped their forward rush, though they kept their weapons and horns trained on the changeling. Prince Blueblood, however, didn’t get the memo. He shouldered a golden-armored guard aside and lit his horn. He fired a blast of half-focused, half-raw magic energy at the changeling, which spiraled down the skyway in a tornado of crackling lightning.

Instinct took over. The changeling leapt over the maelstrom of murderous energy, letting it glide past unhindered. It continued to the three soldiers on the other side. The leftmost unicorn’s armor glowed bright yellow as its built-in shield enchantment worked to save the guard from being torn apart by the drunken spell. Metal shrieked and hair singed as the wayward spell exploded in a ring of light and force.

The ring cut through the top and bottom of the skyway, severing it from the tower. Thanks to the designers, the bridge was supported fully by its connection to the far side, though it still wobbled in the force of the destruction. The two unicorn guards slumped to the ground as smoke billowed out of their end of the corridor, produced by melting glass, burning carpet, and the aftereffects of a crazed spell impacting a sturdy enchantment. The pegasus jumped through the smoke.

The guard’s hoof glowed, his armor’s enchantment adding an extra boost to his strength. The changeling ducked the punch, then skittered between the guard’s legs. It held its breath as it moved through the heavy smoke, seeking shelter on the far side.

It found shelter in the form of a quiet guest bedroom, long unoccupied save for a weekly cleaning. The clank of armor through the castle was slower, cautious, searching. They’d find the room soon enough, but the changeling would be gone before then.

It looked in a mirror and beheld a nightmare. A nightmare to ponies, at any rate. Black armored exoskeleton, blue-green multifaceted eyes, long fangs, a scraggy horn…

It lifted its hooves to its face. Holes bored through its forelegs. Its wings were torn and perforated. Its ears were low and scratched. It took a few steps away, its hooves close together as though it was afraid to do anything besides just inch backward. It kept its head low and its shoulders hunched.

Its horn sparked with green fire that gradually covered its entire body. When the flame extinguished, a new pony stared at the reflection. White coat, bleached blond mane, pink eyes, color-wheel cutie mark. A stallion of little merit and less fame.

He dressed himself with a coat he found discarded in the servant’s quarters. He took a pass through the kitchen, took a tray piled high with food, and walked calmly through the castle. If anypony noticed him, they quickly ignored him. The one or two guards that questioned him bought his ready story immediately, even giving him an escort should he be accosted by roaming changelings.

Or maybe they were following him to make sure his story checked out. Either way, they let him go in the end.

He delivered the food cart and headed straight for the exit. He passed by an argument near the doors, between Blueblood and Viscount Dulcimer.

“I was just attacked by a changeling in broad daylight!” the prince said. “I am in no condition to continue the meeting!”

“But—” the viscount raised a hoof as the prince thundered off, accompanied by several guards.

Dulcimer sat down beside the window the changeling had smacked into. Unlike the windows in the great hall, this did not have a scene from history inscribed on it. It was just patterns and colors.

The viscount was a sturdy, strong stallion, not quite as well-built as the prince, but close. His pink coat might have looked silly if he didn’t carry it proudly. His purple beard was fashioned into a goatee, and his mane was pulled back in a ponytail. He turned to the disguised changeling as he passed. “What do you suppose the changeling wanted?”

“B-beg pardon, yer Grace,” the changeling said, “I don’t fink I know all o’ wot’s goin’ on. Just been passin’ through when th’ alarm wus sounded.”

He hesitated a moment before carrying on. Viscount Dulcimer spoke up again. “What’s your name?”

“Bl—” The changeling cleared its throat. “Crisper, yer Grace.”

The viscount smirked. “Don’t mind me too much. I remember what it was like to be a servant. Viscount isn’t a hereditary title, after all.” He turned back to the window. “Fascinating cutie mark, by the way.”

The changeling’s eyes subconsciously went to the viscount’s cutie mark. An open fob watch. “I ’spect just ’bout every mark has somefin important be’ind it, yer Grace.”

Dulcimer went back to watching the window. “Crisper” trotted away at a polite pace, resisting the urge to dig into the emotional flavor of the air. Even a slight use of such magic might cause suspicion during a ponyhunt.

The changeling slipped out from underneath the guards’ collective nose. The street in front of the castle bustled as reporters got wind of a new story breaking. Questions were flying about whether the attempt by a changeling on Blueblood’s life was connected to the near-assassination from earlier that week.

The changeling swam through the reporters, stood on the edge of the street, and clamped onto a passing carriage. He slid in through the door and took a seat across from a middle-aged mare. “It’s D-Dulcimer, Chief,” he said. “There’s n-no evidence, but the emotions c-came from him. H-he’s the one who w-wants Blueblood dead.”

The curtains in the carriage were drawn, enclosing both occupants in shadows. The mare crossed her light-gray forelegs. “Well, at least we know who to watch.”

She sniffed the air. “Were you on fire, Blankety?”

“I’m a ch-changeling, it happens.” Blankety Blank tapped his hooves together. “S-so, my cover’s blown.”

“And how.” The Chief rubbed her eyes. “We can’t exactly let you jump right back in after that.” She brushed her purple-white striped mane out of her eyes. “What exactly happened back there?”

“M-my face pony woke up, just after I kn-knocked a cup of poison from Blueblood’s hoof.” He shrugged. “They p-put two and t-two together. I t-tried to surrender, since m-my cover was blown re-regardless, but Blueblood wasn’t taking any p-prisoners.”

“So you got out.” The Chief leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “You did good. You saved Blueblood’s life and uncovered the pony responsible.”

“I should have found some evidence, stopped him for good,” Blank said. “Now what?”

The carriage stopped. The Chief opened the door and led them into the back door of the Canterlot Police Department building. “Now we get you the heck out of here until things cool down. Until the ‘changeling attack’ becomes a fluke memory.”

A pony ran up with a folder tucked under their wing. “Twilight Velvet, Chief! Canterlot Health just reported a missing quart of ambrosia.”

Police Chief Twilight Velvet took the folder and flipped through the pages. “Timeframe?”

“Within the last couple weeks, ma’am.”

“Right next to the assassination attempt. That’s an odd coincidence if there is one.” Twilight Velvet shrugged. “Follow the thread. It might lead us to the whereabouts of this ‘Hurricane’ pony.”

Twilight motioned for Blankety to enter her office. She closed the door behind him. “I’m gonna get you out of Canterlot, but I’m not sending you far. Ponyville’s pretty quiet right now, not a whole lot of snoops around. My daughter will give you a nice place to get settled in.”

Blankety Blank nodded, shuffling from hoof to hoof.

“I recommend you treat this as a vacation, Blank,” Twilight said. She sat behind her desk and pointed him to a chair. “Any work you do might just draw attention. I’d rather not lose my best asset.”

“I-I—” Blank rubbed his short mane. “I’ve never had a v-vacation before, Chief.”

Twilight Velvet sighed. She activated the coffee machine she kept in her office. “Then think of this as a learning experience. A starting line to living like other ponies.”

She poured them both a mug. “Besides, my daughter knows a dragon who can teach you a lot about being a pony.”

Blankety Blank murmured contentedly as he guzzled his coffee. His eyes snapped open. “Wait, what?”

It was long after hours when Time Turner heard a knock at his front door. He stumbled out of his workroom, welding goggles pushed up on his forehead. “We’re closed!”

The knock insisted.

Time unlatched the locks on his door, mumbling all the while. “Oh, ‘closed’ just means ‘I need to knock harder,’ is that it? ‘After hours’ is another way of saying ‘everypony’s welcome,’ is that right? Well, let me tell you—”

He opened the door, revealing two mares covered from head-to-tail in mud and smelling of much worse. He stumbled back. “Um. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“An opportunity to help Celestia,” the taller mare said. On closer inspection, Turner realized that she was an alicorn. A specific alicorn. “You have a materials lab, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Time Turner said after a second. “Hardness testers, heat-treat ovens, even a spectrometer. Why?”

“We’ve got a couple of artifacts to examine,” the shorter mare said. She scratched her mane, causing mud clumps to fall to the ground. “We can’t find out too much about them until we know what they’re made of.”

Time Turner licked his lips and held his breath. “My lab is specifically for metals.”

“That’s what made me think of you,” Twilight Sparkle said. She levitated the wing blade out of her saddlebags. “They’re small throwing knives based on an old design.”

“An ancient design,” the shorter pony added.

Time Turner moved to the side to let them in. “If it’ll help Celestia, you’re certainly welcome to use my lab. I’d like to… request you get yourselves cleaned up, first. Shower’s upstairs and to the right.”

The shorter pony looked down. “Oh yeah. I guess we’re kinda dirty. A little.”

The mud on Twilight Sparkle’s face cracked as she frowned. “I don’t think we have time for—”

“There’s always time to keep me from vomiting on my instruments,” Time Turner said. “Upstairs, shoo.”

The short pony pulled off her pith helmet, revealing the grayscale mane beneath. “I’ll save the hoofshake for later, but I wanna say it’s a real honor to meet you, Turner. You’re a legend with the Knights.”

Time Turner’s ears flopped down. “Thank you, but legends often differ from facts, Miss…”

Twilight stepped in. “Time Turner, this is A.K. Year—”

Daring Do pushed her aside. “Daring Do, in the flesh.”

Twilight threw her legs up. “Right. Why do we even have secret identities in the first place? Who needs ’em?”

Time’s eyebrows shot up. “Daring? As in the actual Daring Do?”

Daring Do crossed her forelegs. “So you’ve heard of me?”

“You might say that.” He took a deep breath to say something further, but gagged on the Everfree air. “Ugh. Daring Do in my shower is not quite as sexy as fan fiction led me to believe.”

Daring stared at him with wide eyes. She burst out laughing.

Twilight felt a headache coming on. “Well, both of us need to get cleaned up. You start setting up the devices, Turner.”

She walked swiftly up the staircase, Daring Do on her heels. Time Turner watched them go, before entering his workroom to clean up a few loose tools.

Evening fell over a half-finished building in Canterlot. Construction crews packed away their tools, shut of the cranes, and left for home in one rush-hour mass. Only the forepony stayed behind to lock up. He was about to seal the last gate when he was tapped on the shoulder. “Hay, this area’s off-limits.”

“I don’t know about that,” Viscount Dulcimer said. “I’m the owner.”

The forepony jumped. “Oh, boss! Didn’t know you were coming by.”

The viscount rested his foreleg around the forepony’s shoulders. “I didn’t either until earlier today. I’m a little bit curious about how the construction’s going on.” He looked behind himself. “Coming, Scuttlebutt?”

Scuttlebutt, the viscount’s personal aide, was a short, thin pony. When he smiled, it often reminded ponies of a rat about to eat cheese. On that note, he smiled altogether too often for most ponies’ taste. “Yes sir.”

The forepony puffed his chest out. “We got a lot done today. First two floors are good, just need to move the stores in now. Windows need installing on the third floor, and the iron skeleton’s just about finished up top.”

They walked towards a set of stairs. Dulcimer slowed down. “Pardon me, Forepony, but my assistant has a bad knee. Are any of the elevators active?”

“B, C, and F are, boss.” The forepony pushed a button, causing magical currents to open the elevator doors. “Running on local siphons right now, but we’re hooking it up to the grid in a couple weeks.”

“Excellent,” Dulcimer said. “Come along, Scuttlebutt.”

The three ponies piled onto the elevator. Viscount Dulcimer pushed the button for the top floor. “I hope you don’t mind. I like to take every opportunity I can to see Canterlot at night.”

“No problem, boss.” The forepony sat down. “We’ll start the tour on the top floor is all.”

“What’s your name, Forepony?” Dulcimer asked.

“Stacks, sir.” The forepony chuckled. “Stacks of pancakes, stacks of bricks, stacks of bits, it’s all good.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Stacks.” The viscount looked at the glowing buttons as they hit the second floor with a “ding.” “What do you know about changelings, Stacks?”

Stacks shrugged. “I know they’re bad news, boss.”

“Alright,” Dulcimer said. His voice took on an edge. “What do you know about assassinations?”

Forepony Stacks blinked. He fought the urge to scuff his hoof. “Assassinations? Like what happened to the princess?”

“That.” Dulcimer tilted his head. “There was also a changeling assassination attempt on Blueblood’s life today. What do you know about that?”

Stacks couldn’t stop his ears from laying back on his head. “Don’t know nothing, boss. I’ve just been working here all day.”

Dulcimer shut his eyes and nodded in understanding. “So you mean to tell me that you didn’t find out about my plans to poison Blueblood. You didn’t go to the police with a hint about the time and date. You didn’t send it in anonymously to avoid being caught.” He opened his green eyes and smiled. “And it wasn’t your fault that a changeling interrupted my murder?”

Sweat poured out from under Stacks’ hardhat. “I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about, boss.”

The elevator “dinged” again as they hit the third floor. Viscount Dulcimer patted Stacks’ back. “My mistake, of course. I didn’t mean for the information to fall into your hooves. That was an oversight on my part. There really wasn’t anything else you could have done. It was your civic duty to turn me in.”

Viscount Dulcimer traded a glance with Scuttlebutt. “And if you had concrete evidence, it might have worked.”

Forepony Stacks was an earth pony. He lifted bricks for a living. He was no slouch in the muscle department. When he threw the punch at Viscount Dulcimer’s head, it really should have flattened it. Instead, it clanged uselessly against the wall of the elevator, rocking it on its pulleys and metal cables.

The viscount’s voice came from behind the forepony. “Tisk, tisk. You don’t have time for this.”

The forepony gaped. There had been no flash of teleportation. No blur of movement. No flicker of illusion. There was no way the viscount could have moved that fast.

A hefty weight hit the back of Stacks’ head. He tumbled to the ground under the blow from Scuttlebutt’s buck.

“We’ve arrived on the top floor, sir,” Scuttlebutt said. His cheese-eating grin crossed his face. “How would you like to take care of this problem?”

The doors opened, allowing Scuttlebutt to exit. Dulcimer walked out and leaned his face close to Stacks’. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to fire you. I’m not going to kill you either. Your family will get your full life insurance, plus a hefty care package from the company. I’ll take care of them far better than you ever could.”

Tears dripped from Stacks’ eyes. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna kill me?”

“I’m not.” Dulcimer’s horn flared bright. A bubble of magic gripped the metal cables above the elevator. The cables rusted right before the three ponies’ eyes. “But it’s not the fall that kills you.”

The cables snapped. The breaks disconnected. Stacks screamed as the elevator carried him down four stories to a crushing end.

“Speaking of insurance,” Scuttlebutt said, “our premiums are about to go up.”

“But for the publicity this is going to get?” Viscount Dulcimer smirked. “It won’t cost nearly as much as what we’d pay the advertising agencies.”

He walked to the edge of the fourth floor. The walls had yet to be added, so he was standing in open air. Lights sparkled into existence like ground-bound stars. “Though Blueblood’s still among the living, I’ve managed to root out an information leak, sealed several contracts from various businesses, and learned that my enemies have a changeling.” He turned to Scuttlebutt and smiled. “All in all, it’s been a pretty good day.”

Author's Notes:

This sequence was originally conceived as a one-shot starring the changeling, but it works better as part of a larger tale. It also serves to raise the tension a bit before settling back into the lower-key sections of the team meeting up.

Alloy

Daring Do glanced at her sketch of the throwing knife. A bandage was wrapped around her hoof where she’d accidently sliced herself trying to handle it. The blade had not gotten much duller since its use a week before.

Most of the knife was comprised of its microscopically-sharp blade, which had a channel running down its length to allow blood flow. Swirls like rippling water flowed up to the tip. Where one would usually find a handle were a series of barbs in the shape of a comb, securing it to the user’s feathers and releasing it quickly when needed. Between the combs and the blade, various symbols were carved out of the metal.

Daring Do flipped through a tome from her private reference collection. Wingblades of various shapes and sizes decorated the pages, each representing an era of pony history. Symbols and their translations were called out in diagrams and notes. Hieroglyphics depicted heroic deeds and vast battles.

“There’s as many different knives as there are historic figures,” Daring grumbled.

Time Turner had the actual blade. He slid it underneath a machine and pulled a lever.

“That’s not gonna destroy it, is it?” Twilight Sparkle asked. “It’s sorta important evidence.”

“Not at all.” Time Turner motioned her closer. “See that tiny diamond point? That’s going to drive a small indention into the metal while the gauge records how deep it goes. We’ll compare that to the charts and see how hard the material is.”

Twilight frowned. “You’re poking holes in my evidence.”

“Tiny indentions,” Time said. “Tiny, unnoticeable indentations. It’s called non-destructive testing for a reason.”

He pulled the lever and lowered the weights. The diamond point sunk into the metal as a needle gauge shuddered. “That’s a beauty. That’s a… huh?”

He rubbed his chin. “Went off the charts. Load more weight onto the press, princess.”

“Wait, what?” Twilight huffed. “You’re gonna poke more holes in it?”

“Tiny, infinitesimal indentations.” Time Turner motioned to the weights. “Fifty more pounds, if you please.”

Twilight loaded the black disk onto the machine. She narrowed her eyes and watched Turner carefully.

“Hay, Sparkle,” Daring Do said. She ruffled her mane with both hooves, getting the last bit of dampness out. “Did this thing have any poison in it?”

“No. No poison, just precision.” Twilight cringed as the needle gauge jiggled from the pressure. “She knew right where to hit the guards.”

“Yikes.” Daring Do spoke around the pencil in her mouth as she took notes. “But also interesting.”

“She?” Time Turner looked up from his own notes. “You mean this assassin person?”

“The one and only.” Twilight leaned over his shoulder. “What have you got?”

“It’s hard,” he said, “really hard. It’ll hold an edge like you wouldn’t believe. It’s also tough, very tough. It can be bent quite some ways before breaking.” He lifted his hoof to pick it up, but hesitated. “If you would, please?”

Twilight lifted it in a spell and walked it over to a metallic box. Time Turner wound a crank on its side. “This spectrometer,” he said, “will reveal the chemical composition of the material.”

“How’s it do that?”

Time paused in his turning. He coughed. “By hitting it with a bolt of lightning and recording how light passes through the debris cloud.”

“Whoa, really?” Daring Do walked over, her pencil clenched in her teeth. “You’ve got a generator in here?”

“No!” Twilight shook her head. “No, no, no. You said you weren’t going to destroy the evidence.”

“I’m not, really.” Time Turner opened a hatch. “Not by much. How can I tell you what it’s made of unless you let me find out?”

“I’ll take it to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. I’ll give it to the lab as a special credit project for the students.” Twilight held her nose up, then her head droop. “And… swear everypony involved to utter secrecy under pain of treason, I suppose. Brilliant idea, ain’t it?”

Time Turner turned one blue eye to the floating blade. “They’ll have to do it the same way, just with unicorn magic. Is this the only blade, Princess?”

Twilight hesitated. She sat down with a huff and lowered the knife into the box. “No, there’s dozens. This is the only one the Guard let me keep, though, so don’t mess it up too bad.”

“This I gotta see.” Daring Do peered at the side of the box, where the crank connected to bits of machinery. “Never got a chance to get up close and personal with lightning that wasn’t trying to kill me.”

“You aren’t going to see too much through the insulated box,” Turner said. “But if you’ll lend me your ears…”

They all leaned close as the box hummed. It grew into a low buzz. The lights in the shop dimmed.

“That’s it. Wake up.” Time Turner placed his hoof over a button. “Wake up and tell me what this thing’s made of.”

He pressed the button and the spectrometer popped. A printer beside the device wound up and began to gradually spit out graphs.

Daring Do blinked. She turned to Time Turner. “That was it?”

“You were expecting maybe a thunderstorm?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Time Turner opened the hatch. “Careful, it’s probably hot.”

Twilight Sparkle gripped the wingblade in her magic and set it nearby. A dark spot was burned into the center. “We better be getting some real good data from that thing.”

Time examined the printer’s results. “Mostly iron, no surprise. Nickel and—well, that’s odd. What do you make of this?”

Twilight looked over his shoulder. “Carbon molecules?”

Daring Do looked between them. “Am I missing something important? Why’s there carbon in metal?”

Twilight shuffled back to let Daring into the huddle. “You know what carbon is?”

“I know we don’t use carbon dating anymore because of how inaccurate it is.” Daring scratched her cheek. “It’s in living things and charcoal and stuff.”

“Yeah, that.” Twilight glared at the burn. “And now it’s in an alloy.”

She tucked her wings in. “I’ll look into it later. Right now it’s kinda late.”

The cuckoo clock chimed eleven.

Time Turner wrinkled his nose. “Missed supper again. Anypony want a quick sandwich?”

Daring Do motioned them over to the reference book. “Quick update on this stuff first. It’s weird.” She pointed at her sketch, then at the sketch in the book. “Check it out, they match.”

Twilight squinted. “‘Match?’ How much?”

“Exactly.” Daring traced a hoof over the symbols in the book. “It’s got all these carved on it, too. Down to the littlest details.” She leaned her elbow on the table. “I think whoever this assassin is, she’s Commander Hurricane’s biggest fan.”

The hair on Twilight’s back stood up. She shivered. “It’s an exact match to Hurricane’s blades? Really?”

“Like I said, exactly.” She pointed to a hieroglyph shaped like a spear, then to one shaped like a shield. “This symbol represents the day Hurricane joined the Pegasopolis Air Calvary. This one’s when he achieved the rank of Commander.”

“She,” Twilight said, her mouth dry. “Luna said Hurricane was a mare.”

Daring lowered her eyebrows. “I guess I don’t wanna argue with somepony who was there. Anyway, this is the weird part: It has all the symbols, down to the very last one Hurricane ever added.”

Time Turner wiped down his spectrometer. “What’s that?”

The symbol Daring pointed out was of a horn and wings surrounding a heart. “This one, symbolizing the unification of the three tribes.” She spread her wings in a shrug. “You ask me, I don’t think the pony who wanted to hit Celestia would want to remember the unification. She definitely wouldn’t if she was a pegasus tribal purist like you’ve guessed, Sparkle.”

“N-no,” Twilight stuttered. “She wouldn’t.”

“Now, getting into super-freaky territory.” Daring Do sat down with the tome on her lap. “You said the blades weren’t poisoned? It says here Hurricane hated poison with a vengeance. Some sort of trauma from his—um—her early life. Scarred hiiii—her left cheek something awful.”

“You don’t say,” Twilight said. She shook her head. “Gosh I feel like a sandwich right now. Anypony else really feeling a sandwich coming?”

“I’ll get the tulips, my treat.” Time Turner trotted towards his kitchen.

“Hay,” Daring Do said. She put a hoof on Twilight’s back. “You okay?”

Twilight took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her mouth. “I don’t know. I’m just not sure. The more evidence I see, the more it’s leading me to believe something horrible.”

Time Turner leaned into the hallway, his ear cocked.

“The more I see, the more I think Luna’s theory might be right. The assassin is Hurricane.”

Daring chuckled. When Twilight didn’t join in, her smile melted away. “That’s impossible, right?”

Twilight didn’t say anything. She just gave Daring a level stare.

“Well, it doesn’t make sense.” Daring Do snapped the book shut. “I mean, Hurricane helped raise the princesses. H-she was a father figure… or something to them. Why would she want to murder Celestia?”

“And why would she travel to the far future to do it?” Time Turner called out. “Something doesn’t add up.”

Daring Do jerked her head. “What say we carry this conversation to the kitchen?”

“Sounds like genius.”

The table was set for three places. Twilight let her wings down to touch the floor as she slouched before her sandwich. Daring Do swallowed hers in three bites. Time Turner just nibbled.

“So,” Daring Do said after a hearty gulp, “you’re younger than I expected.”

Time Turner narrowed one eye. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. You were already a legend when I first got inducted into the Knights.” Daring Do pushed her plate forward and crossed her forelegs. “How old are you, anyhow?”

“Thirty-five, last I checked.” Time Turner kept his gaze on his meal. “Why? How old are you?”

Daring tisked. “Don’t you know not to ask a lady that?”

“I have some idea as to proper etiquette, yes.” Time Turner smirked. “Perhaps I just choose not to use it.”

Daring snorted. She tapped Twilight on the shoulder. “You gonna finish that?”

Twilight wordlessly slid the untouched sandwich over. Daring downed it in four mouthfuls. “’Cuz it’s like, you couldn’t go anywhere without the old guys talking about Time Turner. I joined the Guard eighteen years ago, so you’d have had to have been—”

“I got a young start.” Time took a larger bite and chewed slowly. “What about you? How’d you get Celestia to believe your book series wouldn’t bare Equestria’s deepest secrets to the world?”

Daring Do smiled. She chucked Twilight’s shoulder, but the princess didn’t seem to notice. “She hired Sparkle’s mom to edit. Seems like being the former Captain of the Guard builds trust or something.”

“Ah, that it would. That it would.” Time Turner draped one foreleg over the back of his chair. “How much does she usually edit out?”

“Not as much as she used to, I’ve been learning the difference between ‘dramatic moment’ and ‘detailed information on troop movements.’” Daring Do rubbed the back of her head. “Yeah, and we tone down the violence a lot, ’cause it’s an all-ages series. A lot of bad guys tend to fall down bottomless pits, if you know what I mean.”

“I believe I know the gist of it,” Time mumbled.

“What about you?” Daring said. “How much of the Legend of Time Turner is real-life?” She cupped a hoof to her mouth. “Did you really go back in time to be a younger Celestia’s secret lover?”

“What!” Twilight yelped.

“No!” Turner shouted. “Heck no! Cuss no!”

Daring crossed her forelegs, jutted out her lip, and gestured for Time to continue. Twilight eyed him suspiciously.

“I just… As the Knight of Time, I kept an eye on time travel-related activities.” Time Turner’s gaze bounced between the two mares. “Artifacts crafted by Starswirl. Beings known to experiment. Criminals who… wanted to exploit it. That’s all. It was no great adventure. No impossible journey. No…” He groaned. “No young stallion’s fantasy.”

Daring Do rubbed her upper foreleg. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to hit a sore point.”

“I know. I can’t hold it against you.” Time stood up and gathered their plates. “I’d want to know more about such a legend, too, you know.” He winked. “Maybe I’ll get the chance.”

“Oh, you will.” Daring Do flashed him a lopsided grin. “Trust me.”

“Fifth wheels on a date go round and round,” Twilight Sparkle muttered.

“You say something, Sparkle?” Daring Do asked.

“Nope.” Twilight Sparkle stood and stretched her wings. Her back cracked. “Oog. Thank you for your help and hospitality, Mr. Turner, but we’ve got to turn in for the night.”

“My pleasure.” Time licked his lips. “I’ll give you a copy of the results and look them over myself. I’ll let you know if anything interesting comes up.”

Twilight nodded. Daring Do gave her wings a decisive flap. “We’ll catch the son of a gun,” Daring said. “Heck yeah, we will.”

Early morning was the best time to run, Care decided. She wasn’t a morning pony, but there was something about galloping through empty city streets that woke a body up. Her hooves pounded the new pavement, laid the previous summer courtesy of Applejack’s budgeting work.

The street weren’t completely empty. There were a few vendors setting up their stalls in the early twilight. A performing musician was seated on a park bench tuning her lyre. The first tantalizing whiffs of baked goods floated out of Sugarcube Corner.

A smile threatened to tug at Care’s cheeks as she caught a hint of pumpkin spice.

“On yer left!”

Applejack rumbled past, her cravat flapping in the wind of her headlong charge. Her hat only held on to her blonde head by virtue of sheer willpower. She laughed as she pulled ahead of Care. “Yer gonna have tah to better’n that if you wanna run the rodeo!”

“I’ve already got you beat in endurance, your Lordship!” Care laughed.

She slowed to a canter and let Applejack peel off towards City Hall. She found herself in town square, an open area with a fountain in the middle. There was a storage shed off to the side full of chairs to set up for Sunday Meeting. She knelt down and took a slurp from the fountain.

Gentle hoofbeats brought her ears back. She turned her head to get a quick peek at whatever other pony was up before dawn. He was a white-coated, light-blond stallion, making his way nervously across the square.

“Mr. Blank?”

He froze. He turned on his rear hooves and cleared his throat. “M—miss Carrot.”

She wiped her muzzle and brushed her long mane over her shoulder. “I thought you went to Canterlot. Business not work out?”

“N-not like I hoped.” His thin legs shook almost unnoticeably. “B-but not uns-ss-salvageable.”

She walked over to him and lowered her head to his level. “Where’s your cart? You didn’t have to leave it in Canterlot, did you?”

“T-train station.” Blankety Blank pointed back the way he came. “They’re k-keeping it until I h-head out. I’m just finding a place to stay.”

Care lifted a hoof. “I can show you where the motel is, approximately.”

“I h-have a place already, thanks.” Blank’s mouth smiled, but his eyes didn’t. “I should g-get going. Th-they’re expecting m-me.”

“Oh, well good luck to you.” Care bobbed her head and took a step back. “I should head back, too. See you around.”

“S-see you.” Blankety walked slowly forward, his head bowed. His hooves almost shuffled across the ground.

Care decided to give her legs a break and settled for walking back to the castle. They’d gone about a quarter of a mile before she noticed he was still right beside her. “Are you following me?”

“N-no!” Blankety shrunk in on himself. “No, I j-just—my place is th-this way.”

“Right. Sorry.” Care winced. “Just trying to make a joke, I guess.”

Blank shrugged. “K-keep trying, I guess.”

Care let out a heavy sigh. “Story of my life, guy.”

Blankety Blank gave a chuff of laughter, then fell silent.

“I’m curious, though,” Care said. She looked down at him. “How’d you know I was a captain?”

Blank sucked in a breath. He let it out slowly. “Oh. Y-yesterday.”

“Yeah, yesterday.” Care tilted her head to the side. “Marketplace, autumn wind, introductions…”

“I’ve seen you in the papers,” Blank said. “N-next to Celestia.”

“I’m usually in full armor.” Care flicked her tail. “With the visual enchantments.”

Blankety Blank studied his hooves as he walked. “Y-your name’s in the label, sometimes.”

Care lidded her eyes. “Right. Sure.”

Silence descended, but Blank nudged it aside. “Th-thank you for w-what you do, by the way. It means a l-lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“W-with the Guard. P-putting your life on the l-l-line.” Blank sucked his lips in. “I d-don’t think Celestia would be here t-today if it wasn’t for y-you.”

“I didn’t—” The skin around Care’s eyes grew tight. She left her mouth half-open, waiting for the rest of her reply to come out. It didn’t.

Blank’s pink eyes searched her face. He sighed and turned back to the front. “Means a lot.”

Care looked up at the monolithic Ponyville castle. “See you around.”

“Yup.”

She put her hoof on the left doorway. Blankety put his hoof on the right. They looked at each other.

“You’re staying at the castle,” Care stated.

“Y-yeah.” Blank’s mouth twisted. “You, too, huh?”

“Yup.” Care opened her door and moved to the side. “After you.”

“L-ladies firs—”

“Just move it.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

Blank plodded his way into the foyer. He gasped.

His neck craned his head far back. The castle’s high-vaulted ceilings arched into the distance, held aloft by naturally-formed crystalline pillars. Crystal facets ran across every surface, and everything glowed with a soft light. Windows of multicolored crystal took the place of stained glass, each depicting the shape an Elements of Harmony. The floor was carpeted with red fabric, soft like pegasus down.

“It’s beautiful,” Blankety Blank whispered. He took a few steps deeper into the castle and found his reflection on a pillar. He frowned at himself.

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” Care unzipped her plaid jacket and hung it on a coat rack near the doorway. “Real easy to get lost in here, though. It wasn’t exactly designed by an architect.”

He and his reflection stared at each other with drooping ears and glum looks. Care nudged him. “Hay,” she said, “the princess and Spike are probably gonna sleep until midmorning. I’ll show you the kitchen and we can get breakfast.”

“Sounds good.” Blank broke off his staring match and turned his eyes to the carpet. “Lead the way.”

It was a good five minute walk to the room Twilight Sparkle had decided was the “kitchen.” It was in one of the castle’s towers, to allow for smoke to escape through a window that had grown in the side. The second thing Twilight did after that was install a few elevators. Care pushed a button marked “KITCHEN FLOOR” in scrawling script, sending them climbing upward.

Blank squinted at the other labels that had been taped on. “Bedroom floor? Bathroom floor? Fire-exit floor?”

Care smirked. “It makes for easier navigation, I’ll say that.”

Once on the floor, Care pulled open the door to the kitchen. The two of them stopped when they found somebody already eating at the small table, hidden behind the morning’s paper. Care cleared her throat. “Hay.”

Daring Do’s eyes popped over the top of a newspaper as she sipped her orange juice. “You the room service? I kinda expected more servants in a castle this big.”

“Um. No.” Care walked around the table to get a better view of the other pony. “Who are you?”

“I asked you first.” Daring folded her paper in half. She chuckled. “Aw, good ol’ Minus and his blanket. The funny page’s greatest source of wisdom.”

She stuffed a whole pancake into her mouth and spoke around it. “Seriously, who are you people? Din’ know Sparkle had company.”

Blank shuffled away. “I’m just gonna m-make oatmeal.”

“I’m Care Carrot, I’m a Guard.” Care pointed her horn. “That’s Blankety Blank. A mirror merchant, I guess.”

“G-glassware, actually.”

“Well, there you have it.” Care crossed her front legs. “Your turn.”

Daring Do stuffed another pancake into her mouth and slurped up the syrup. “A. K. Yearling, author of the Daring Do books. Heard of me?”

“A little.” Care glanced at Blank to see that he was boiling water, then rummaged through the cupboards to find the oats. “Read the first couple books as a kid. I liked them.”

“Stirring praise, Care.” Daring Do dumped a blob of syrup onto her last pancake, folded it over, and ate it in two bites. “Did yah catch the movie this summer?”

“Nope.” Care gave a box of oats to Blank and scooped out a few raisons. “To be honest, I don’t care much for movie adaptations.”

Blank measured out the oats and followed up with the fruit. “I th-thought Rainbow Dash b-brought a great new d-dimension to Daring Do’s character. Made her f-feel like a real pony.”

Daring Do snickered. “Sure did.”

Care pulled up a chair. Daring Do held the paper out to her. “Funnies?”

Care shrugged and took it. She began looking for Leaven and Cobs. “So what brings a famous author to Ponyville’s castle?”

“Visiting an old buddy. Sparkle’s mom and I go way back. Kid’s like a niece to me.” Daring Do licked a bit of syrup off her nose. “I’d ask what a Royal Guard’s doing in Ponyville’s castle, but that question sounded dumb even before I said it out loud.”

She looked past Care. “So glassblower, what’re you doing here?”

“Merchant,” Blank said. He stirred his concoction. “I’m a… friend of Tw-Twilight Velvet, too. I’d r-rather not talk ab-about it.”

“Wow. Mister Mysterious over here.” Daring Do grinned. “I bet he’s a spy.”

Care rolled her eyes. “Yup. That’s the only logical explanation.”

Blank slid a bowl of hot oatmeal over to Care, then set one in front of himself. “Bon Appétit.”

“Thanks.” Care blew the steam before digging in.

Daring Do giggled.

Care gave her a look. “Hmm?”

“Just thinking about how Sparkle’s gonna feel when she wakes up and finds all her guests making themselves breakfast.”

The three of them shared a quiet laugh.

Twilight Velvet circled the downed elevator. It had collapsed in on itself when it hit the ground floor, and resembled a cereal box crumpled up for the waste bin. The medical first responders had removed what was left of Stacks about an hour ago. Another unicorn stood close by, scanning the area for magic remnants.

“Got anything suspicious, Pixel?” Velvet asked.

“No oxidation spells for the broken wires, Chief, so it looks like the rust is natural.”

“Natural, my wrinkly—” Velvet grasped his shoulder and dragged him forward. She pointed at the wires. “Ever know metal wires to rust all the way through in one spot and leave the rest of the dang thing untouched?”

“No, Chief.”

“Of course not.” Twilight Velvet marched away. “Tell Corky to remove the wires and ship them out to our labs. We’re gonna figure out what the heck went wrong, come Tartarus or floods.”

The sun crested the horizon as she picked her way through the crowds of construction workers. The new forepony called out to her, “Hay, Chief! Get yer cops outta my construction site!”

“Get your construction workers out of my crime scene!” She shoved a hefty brute of a stallion aside. “Or do you wanna find more of your guys squished underneath an elevator?”

She shrieked. A crane claw the size of a dragon’s hand landed beside her and hoisted a case of bricks to the fourth floor. She pulled her hardhat low and glared at the forepony.

He jumped off the crane’s driver seat. “Boss says it was an accident. All I know for sure is if we don’t work, we don’t get paid. We don’t get paid, our families don’t eat. We level?”

“I understand your issues.” She lifted her nose and stuck it right up against the forepony’s. “Now understand mine. Accident or no, I need to investigate it. If it isn’t a murder, it’s negligent construction or corner cutting. Neither one is gonna look good on anypony’s resume. We level?”

The forepony sneered. “Yeah. We’re level.”

“Groovy.” She went around him and continued her march to the gate. “Somepony get this guy a coffee or something.”

She dug through the pockets of her duster and pulled out a set of keys. She unlocked the gate, slid through, and locked it back up. While inside the gated construction site was a crowd of workers, outside was a crowd of reporters. She slid against the wall, making her way behind a stage that had been hastily set up for a press conference.

“The true tragedy of the situation is how preventable it was,” Viscount Dulcimer said from his place behind the podium. “For years, Equestria has worked with materials produced nationally. Our iron, our bronze, our aluminum is far inferior to those made by our neighbors. We have been shown time and time again that our facilities, our methods, are inferior to the extreme.”

Twilight Velvet sat at the bottom of the platform’s staircase. She looked out over the reporters, watching them take vigorous notes or speak into magic recorders. “The body isn’t even cold, you jerk.”

“That is why I am begging Princess Luna to seek a new trade agreement with the griffons.” Dulcimer leaned on his lectern. “How many more ponies must be injured or killed before the cost of lives outweighs the cost of bits? What can King Andean ask that goes too far for us to supply Equestrians with stable, quality materials?”

He took a sip of water, allowing the reporters a moment to ask questions. “From what we’ve seen, the griffons guard their iron jealously. What good will asking Luna to step forward do?”

A cold, gray, clammy hoof clapped down on Twilight Velvet’s shoulder. She tensed up, but resisted the old instinct to simply wheel around and punch the pony in the face. She turned her head, giving herself an eyeful of Scuttlebutt’s cheese-eating grin.

“Have something to say to the Viscount, Police Chief?” he said. “I could take him your message so that you can get back to work.”

“I’ve got time to wait,” Velvet said, brushing Scuttlebutt’s hoof off her shoulder. “I’d like to have an actual conversation, not play letter tag.”

Scuttlebutt’s brown mane hung limp around his ears, which swiveled every which way constantly. “Fair enough. I should warn you that he’s already told everything he knows in the police report.”

“That’s what they all say.” Twilight Velvet sniffed the air and detected a mixture of baked goods, coffee, and dust on the wind. “I’d like a transcript of this speech, by the way.”

“But of course.” Scuttlebutt’s eyes jumped back from wherever they’d wandered. “It’ll be on your desk later today.”

He skittered away into the crowd of reporters, who barely spared him a glance. Twilight Velvet shivered. “What a creepy little pony.”

The reporters stood up almost as one, firing questions in an incomprehensible din. Dulcimer descended the stairs. He raised his eyebrows and spoke over the noise. “Chief Velvet. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Viscount.” Twilight Velvet pointed toward the gate. “A word or two?”

Dulcimer tightened his tie with a flash of magic. “Why not? Let’s have words.”

The reporters’ questions died down when they disappeared behind the staged “First of all,” Velvet said, “I didn’t catch the last part of your speech. What’s got you so sure the griffons will cooperate?”

“Every pony has a price, unfortunately.” Dulcimer scratched his goatee. “The trick is finding King Andean’s.”

“Yeah, really.” She shrugged. “Simple as that.”

“Not quite, but it’s a start.” The viscount gave her a bright smile. “What can I do for you, Missus Twilight?”

“I want to hear what happened last night, from your own mouth.” She dug through another pocket and produced a notepad and pencil. She levitated them between her and Dulcimer. “Just tell me what you saw.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I saw the best forepony I’ve ever had lose his life to faulty equipment. I came within a few inches of death myself. There was a snap, a scream, and a crash. What more can I say, Missus Twilight? It’s not a moment in time I enjoy reliving.”

He sighed and let his ears droop. “May I return to my work, ma’am?”

“If there’s really nothing else to say—” A gust of wind grasped her notepad. She held it tight and brought it to her chest. “What the hay?”

The wind played with Dulcimer’s ponytail. He covered his eyes to protect them from flying sand. “What the blazes are the pegasi doing?”

Reporters snapped and cursed as a few chased after hats, notepads, and various other articles. Clouds swirled overhead, untouched by pegasus magic.

Twilight Velvet caught a flash of green in the twisting cold front. “Everypony, remain calm. Clear the street!”

The reporters continued to scramble around. Velvet took a deep breath and shouted at the top of her lungs. “Get out of the road, you morons!”

With that said, the reporters moved to the sides. Some took shelter beneath soon-to-be-shredded awnings. Some huddled beside dumpsters. Some huddled inside dumpsters. Some buckled down by the stage and began to speak into their recorders like they were on the front lines of some war or other.

“What’s going—” Dulcimer started to speak, but Twilight Velvet stuffed a hoof in his mouth. She left him standing by the stage and made her way to the middle of the road.

Pixel and Corky rushed out of the worksite and came to her side. “What’s going on, Chief?” Corky asked, his wings extended. “Rogue tornados? Disgruntled weatherponies? Something worse?”

“Nah.” Twilight Velvet smirked. “Just an old buddy coming to visit.”

The wind’s intensity picked up, causing them to close their eyes. A moment later, all was calm.

They opened their eyes and were met with a wall of green scales. Everypony present looked up, up, up, until they found themselves eye-to-eye with a full-sized dragon.

“That’s not something you see every day,” Dulcimer muttered.

The dragon leaned down, placing its giant claws beside the three officers. It opened its mouth, displaying teeth as sharp as swords. Warm air flowed out of its smoking nostrils.

Pixel and Corky ducked down and covered their heads with their forelegs.

“Hi, Missus Velvet,” the dragon said in a deep, yet distinctly female, voice.

Pixel and Corky peered out from between their hooves. Twilight Velvet sighed. “Hay, Shardscale. It’s been a while.”

Shardscale looked around at the cowering reporters and the nearby stage. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not really. They were just wrapping up.” Twilight Velvet reached out and touched Shardscale’s wrist. “You here about Celestia’s situation?”

“Sure am. I’m the Chronicler, after all.” Shard sucked in a breath that may have been a sniff. “And a friend.”

“Yeah.” Twilight Velvet stood up straight. “Need a place to stay while you’re here? Our backyard’s available.”

“Thanks, but I gotta stay in the palace.” Shardscale leaned close and cupped a claw over her mouth, though everypony could still hear her. “Not just here to cover the assassination. We’ve got company headed our way. It’s big, feathery, and carries a chip on its shoulder.”

Twilight Velvet took a quick step back. “Andean?” she hissed. “What’s that old birdbrain want?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Shard drummed her fingers against the road. “And right now mine isn’t worth a tin can in a dragon hoard.”

She stretched up to her full height. “So I’ll see you around, hopefully.”

“Yeah.” Twilight Velvet waved. “Stop by for supper sometime this week. We’ll have a place ready.”

“Thanks, Missus Velvet.” Shardscale spread her wings. “And, um, the rest of you guys can carry on or whatever.”

A blast of air cleared the street of debris when Shard took off towards the castle. Twilight Velvet cast a few spells to set her mane back into place. She looked down at her cowering partners. “Canterlot’s Finest, shivering at the feet of the world’s biggest nerd. What a day.”

Dulcimer readjusted his tie. He watched the dragon circle the castle once before landing in the courtyard. He leaned towards Velvet as she passed by. “You have friends in very surprising places.”

“Gotta know how to network.” She pursed her lips. “Looks like you’re gonna get that chance to find out King Andean’s price.”

“All in all,” Dulcimer said, “things are looking up.” He hailed a taxi that had gathered up the courage to rumble down the road. “Take care of yourself, Missus Twilight.”

Twilight Velvet grimaced as she watched him roll away. She shook her head and walked towards the police carriage, her coat flapping in the remains of Shardscale’s squall.

Arise

Princess Luna stood upon her sister’s throne. It was meant to be shared; Celestia’s in the day, Luna’s at night. But the sun was high in the sky, and banners with the solar symbol hung between the stained-glass windows. There was no question whose throne it was.

There was no question that Luna was out of place.

A large, green-scaled dragon filled the audience hall. Her kind eyes looked down on Luna with uncertainty. “Um… Hay.”

“Greetings, Shardscale, Chronicler of Dragons and Equestria.” Luna bowed her head. “You are a most welcome sight. I hope you find your accommodations acceptable?”

“Oh, sure, sure. It’s nice. Good bed. Lots of gems. I’m a simple gal.” Shard fidgeted a moment before pointing a claw at Luna. “Nice to finally meet you, Princess Luna.”

Luna blinked before raising her foreleg. Hoof met claw. “Likewise.”

Silence. Luna resisted the urge to fidget as well. “So, perhaps you could tell me what usually happens when you visit Equestria?”

“Oh, sure!” Shard blew a jet of fire which hung in the air. She swirled her claws through it, forming a large scroll and pen. “Usually I have a little talk with Celestia about what’s going on, then I observe whatever I came to, you know, observe, then I talk with witnesses… that sort of thing. I write it all down for posterity and stuff.”

She put pen to paper and scribbled.

Luna nodded. “What might you be writing right now?”

“I’m transcribing this conversation.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yup.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Luna watched the pen dance. “It sounds a bit exhausting.”

“Not really, once you get used to it.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“How very odd,” Luna said. “So, do you have any specific questions?”

“Not at the moment.” Shardscale dotted an ‘I.’ “I’d like a general overview of that night before getting into the specifics. Just so I know what’s what right away. How things went down. What can you tell me about the event?”

Luna slowly sat down. She looked at a nearby stained-glass window, depicting her sister and her raising the celestial objects. “So it is an ‘event’ now.”

Smoke billowed out of Shardscale’s nostrils. The scales around her eyes slid together as the skin tightened. “Well, what am I supposed to call it? ‘The greatest tragedy of our time’ comes to mind.”

“She is not dead ye—” Luna clamped her mouth down hard. “She is not dead. She is injured and recovering.”

“Then why can’t I see her?” Shardscale bit her tongue. “Sorry. I’m just—sorry. I can guess that you’re dealing with a lotta junk right now.”

Luna winced. “Yes, I am. Perhaps since it is high noon, we should retreat to the gardens for lunch.” Her horn glowed, and she whispered into Shard’s ear. “And a more private conversation.”

Shardscale glanced back at the ponies waiting their turn to petition the crown. Most of them were hiding behind the massive doors leading into the hall, while a few waited on the sidelines, all but passed out from shock. She grimaced. “Maybe that’d be a good idea. Lunch sounds great.” She shuffled her way backwards out of the audience chamber.

Two bat pony guards stood at Luna’s side. She leaned to her left to speak with the one named Snipe Hunt. “Have the artisans prepare a pile of gemstones, high quality, and bring it to the gardens. She will also require an archaeopteryx steak, well-done.”

Snipe nodded. “At your command.” He spread his webbed wings and sailed off silently.

The guard on her right, Skyhook, walked alongside her on her way to the garden. “Do we have anything to fear from Shardscale, my Lady?”

Luna lit her horn to whisper in Skyhook’s ear. “Not fear, but concern. She is an old friend of my sister’s, but she is also a thorough record keeper. We must all watch what we say. The lie cannot be undone yet.”

“Understood.”

The warm colors of fall leaves belied the chill in the air. Luna slid a light blue shawl around her shoulders. Her hooves swooshed through the leaves that hadn’t yet been cleared from the paved path. When she eventually arrived at the center of the garden, with its stone benches and tables, its patches of dormant flowers, and its centerpiece of an ancient tree, a picnic had already been set out. Snipe Hunt stood watch in the boughs of the old oak, nearly invisible unless one was looking for him. Even then, all that stood out was a faint shadow among sticks.

Behind the tree, Shardscale struggled to get comfortable in surroundings that weren’t designed for dragons. Her tail slithered through a hedge maze. Her wings pressed tight against her back to prevent them from blowing the falling leaves into a whirlwind. Her claws nestled themselves between bushes and flowerbeds.

“I am sorry, Chronicler,” Luna said. “I can assure you that your accommodations in the courtyard will be a great deal more… roomy.”

“S’okay. M’used to it.” With her limbs positioned, Shard flopped to the ground with a satisfied sigh. Something crunched beneath her belly. “Oops.”

“A small matter.” Luna lay down on a soft blanket. She grasped several items in a bubble of kinetic force: A cup of water, a bag of dry beans, and two sugar cubes. The beans ground themselves into powder, the water heated itself, and the sugar was mixed in with the rest. In a moment, Luna had a perfect cup of coffee.

Shardscale smiled. “Like to brew your own cuppa, huh?”

“A habit from my younger days.” Luna took a sip. “Do you drink coffee? I can’t imagine the bill, if so.”

“Nah, you can never get it hot enough to notice. It all boils away before it even feels warm.” Shard snapped her claws. “Cold drinks, that’s where it’s at. Don’t much care for the brain-freeze, though.”

“Aye, it is enough to drive a mare to…” Luna held herself back from saying “insanity.” “Distraction. If we could get rid of brain-freeze, I feel my consumption of frozen drinks would triple.”

The wind blew leaves between them. Luna held up a foreleg to shield her face, but Shard just snorted them away. Shard tapped her claw tips together. “Look, about your sis—”

“She is alive, but hurt.” Luna set her hot coffee on the blanket and met Shard’s eyes. “We have a lead on who her attacker might be, and we have ponies searching for her. Celestia will heal, and then this whole thing can be over with.” She lifted her chin. “That is the gist of it, as you requested.”

Shard nibbled a scale on her lip and pried it loose. She summoned her scroll and pen in a plume of flame, then scribbled down her notes. “Well, I guess that’ll do it, then.”

Luna brushed a lock of shimmering mane out of her eye. “I’m sorry, but to tell you more could place many, many ponies in mortal danger. If word got out, into the wrong hooves, it could cost everything.”

“Look, I trust you to try to do the right thing.” Shard gripped the scale between her teeth as she wrote. “I really do. It’s just that others are gonna have questions. President Mangle, Seabreeze, King Andean, they’re not gonna be satisfied with that. They’re gonna want to know what happened to Princess Celestia.”

Luna stood up. “She was hurt. That’s all there is to it. Hurt by a madmare who needs to be put down. Nothing I say to you, or to Andean or Mangle or Seabreeze, will help anything.”

A pony walked up, rolling a cart full of gemstones behind him. He set it before Shardscale and hurried off.

Shard popped a ruby into her mouth. “Maybe I wanna help. Maybe Celestia’s my friend, too, not just a person I write about. Maybe you could use a giant kick-butt dragon on your side.” She lit her scroll on fire and watched it vanish back to where it came. “Please, I’m asking as a friend, please tell me what happened.”

Luna’s eyes grew hard. “And then what of your duties? What of the reprimand you will undoubtedly receive from Leviathan should he find out you neglected to record something?”

“Who said he has to find out?” Shard made a fist. “Can I trust you not to rat me out? Can I trust that guard next to you?” She glanced at the tall oak. “Or mister ‘don’t-look-at-me-I’m-a-tree’?”

Snipe Hunt grumbled in the branches.

Luna set her jaw. “What you ask is a hard, dangerous thing.”

“Hay, maybe if you tell me about it, I can help you make up a cover story for Andean. He’s coming soonish, you know. You can’t just tell him what you told me.” She gave Luna an uneasy grin. “You think I’m pugnacious and tenacious? Yeowch.”

A pegasus flew in, bearing a platter. She uncovered the steak with a flourish and left it steaming before Shardscale. Skyhook eyed it, a bit of saliva collecting in his mouth. He pointedly ignored it and continued to scan for threats.

Luna shut her eyes. “Celestia was stabbed in the heart with a Royal Guard spear, stolen from one of her personal guards. She is currently lying in a comatose state, surviving with the help of an oxygen pump and all the ambrosia we can spare. Her brain activity is consistent, but she hasn’t moved since that night at the opera.” Luna glared up at the dragon. “I don’t care who you tell, as long as you keep this a secret until the investigation is over and Celestia is once again in her proper place.”

Shard’s lips trembled. “Okay.”

“If words gets out, and somepony gets hurt, and I find out it was your fault,” Luna said, her voice shaky, “you will die. Do you understand?”

“Hay, I can dig it. It’s cool.” Shard zipped her lips. “Tight lid.”

They ate silently, Shard her steak and Luna her salad. When she was done, the dragon picked her teeth with her loosened scale. “Do you have any clue why Andean’s coming to visit?” she asked

“He is not too fond of Equestria as a whole. I doubt it is a holiday.” Luna pulled the shawl tighter. “The timing is awfully coincidental.”

Shard frowned. “You don’t think he had something to do with the assassination, do you?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Luna pressed her wings against her sides to hold off a sudden breeze. “Celestia would say it is dangerous to assume anything.”

“Yeah, and maybe add something about pointless speculation.” Shard blinked. She wiped her eyes, leaving her claws sizzling. “Dang, she needs to get better. I’m gonna be a wreck until she does.”

Luna nodded. “I recommend a quart of ice cream. Or in your case, a bath.”

Shard tossed an emerald into her mouth. She sucked on it, letting it dissolve away. “Maybe if I start saving up gems instead of eating them. Maybe then I could afford it.”

The hospital was quiet. Deathly still. Luna let her hoof fall soft against the floor, as if making a sound would be a deep offence. Snipe Hunt and Skyhook were even more quiet than she was, the flutter of a wing the loudest noise they made.

There was a nurse reading at her desk. Luna broke the stillness. “My little pony.”

The nurse squeaked, dropping her book. She bowed hastily. “Your Majesty. What can I do for you?”

“I am here to see my sister.” Luna pointed her horn towards the heavy metal doors. “Please guide me to her room. My guards will stay here.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the nurse gasped out, “but nopony is allowed to visit Princess Celestia.” She swallowed a lump in her throat and added, “Doctor’s orders.”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “Doctor Fine is not in right now, is he?”

“N-no, ma’am.”

“Who is in charge?”

“Well.” The nurse gave several false starts. “Well, I am, but I’m under orders—”

“Nurse”—Luna read the pony’s name tag—“Flower Wishes, who am I?”

“Um.” Flower Wishes shook her head. “Princess Luna?”

“Yes.” Luna rested her hoof atop the desk. “High Princess and Diarch of Equestria. Mover of the Moon and acting Setter of the Sun. Former Bearer of the Elements of Harmony. Watcher of Dreams.” She leaned her head close to Flower’s. “Tell me again, Nurse Wishes, who is in charge right now?”

“You are, your Majesty.”

“Thank you. May I see my sister?”

“Uh huh.”

Flower Wishes opened the metal door and let Luna through. Skyhook and Snipe Hunt took up positions on either side of the door. “Her room’s at the end of the hallway,” Flower said. “I-I shouldn’t leave my post for long. In case of emergency.”

“Agreed.” Luna walked down the hall, her head high and her wings half-extended. “Thank you, Nurse Wishes.”

The door shut with a decisive click. As Flower passed, Snipe touched her shoulder with a wingtip. “Sorry about that, miss. She’s going through a lot.”

Flower Wishes smiled and scurried back to the desk.

Skyhook chuckled. “Softy.”

“Hay, it’s a habit.” Snipe smirked. “A good habit, at that.”

Celestia was still. Still motionless. Still unresponsive. Still breathing with the help of a tube. Still taking in ambrosia. Still dead to the world.

“Ten years, Celestia.” Luna paced before the hospital bed. “Ten years I have been back. Welcomed to society with open arms. Crowned princess and loved by thousands of thousands. Praised in song and ceremony.” She hung her head. “I have no idea what I am doing.”

She pulled up alongside the bed and stared at the tubes leading into Celestia’s body. “I never expected ten years to undo several lifetimes of wickedness and isolation, but I hoped to understand more about what I am supposed to do.” She turned to the window. “No. A lie. I wanted to understand what you do. I wanted to be as strong as you. I wanted to be able to fill your horseshoes if the need arose. I wanted to be equal.”

She sat down and lifted her hooves. “Now that chance has come and I am left without a guiding hoof. I am without knowledge of where to go next. I still need you, and if you are not here—”

She let her forelegs drop. The heart monitor ticked away just at the edge of her consciousness. “I understand Twilight. I understand her need to be useful. Now I have to be useful, but I have no clue how. I am lost.”

She stood up and walked to the door. She paused. “I was lost before.” She studied her rump, where the dark hair grew around her cutie mark. “So very lost. I do not wish to lose myself again. I refuse to lose myself!”

She punctuated her statement with a stomp of her hoof. The sound was unsatisfactorily muffled by the walls of the room. Luna bit back a groan. She opened her wings and dared to rest a wingtip on Celestia’s leg. “Sister, I miss you so. Please come back quickly. Please.”

Air flowed from Celestia’s mouth, guided by the magic-powered machine at her side. If Luna looked closely, she could see the gentle, gradual rise and fall of her sister’s chest.

“Beloved sister.” She blinked her eyes. “Oh Creator, why did this happen?”

The deep wound in Celestia’s heart was felt in Luna’s own. She clutched her chest and slumped to the ground. Tears poured from her eyes as she allowed the sobs to come. “Please come back. Please come back. Please come back.”

She pulled herself up to look at her sister’s face. “Please… please give me a sign that you’ll come back. Please give me something to hold on to.”

Celestia said nothing.

Luna dried her tears and calmed her cries. She took several deep breaths before heading towards the door again. “Good bye, Celestia.”

Above the beep of the heart monitor, beyond the hum of the breathing tube, something caught Luna’s ears. A strange scratching sound. Luna turned her head and narrowed her eyes.

A roll of paper came out of a machine that scribbled jagged lines with several different colors. The wires from the back led to Celestia’s head.

Luna’s eyes widened. “My stars. Consistent brainwaves.”

She staggered over to the bedside, her knees trembling. She sucked in a deep breath. “Sister, do you dream?”

She licked her lips, her pulse quickening. She skipped to the door and down the hall, almost not daring to hope. She called her guards to her side as she moved, her wings already spreading to their full length. She gave a nod to Flower Wishes and then was off to the entrance.

Once outside the hospital, with its many instruments that could be disturbed by powerful magic, she teleported the three of them to the tallest tower in Canterlot Castle: The Dream’s Keep. The guards shook their heads to rid themselves of their daze, then took up position beside the entrance.

Luna hurried up the spiral stairs. She tripped halfway up, nearly sending her nose into the steps. She broke free of the staircase and spent a moment catching her breath.

The room was rounded, with several mirrors set into the walls. From the gilded, domed ceiling, a bell hung, ready to be rung in case of emergency. At the far side, a telescope sat on a balcony. Luna set foot on the marble tiles that formed the shape of her cutie mark. She sat down in the center of the room.

The mirrors came to life. They were not as lively as they would be late at night, but each mirror still held a dream. Ponies who slept during the day and worked at night, elders taking a siesta, college students asleep on their textbooks…

Luna scanned them, her breath coming in spurts. Every muscle in her body tensed. She shook, half hoping she was right, half expecting crushing disappointment.

There. That mirror. A glimpse of something few ponies would understand. A flicker of something few ponies still alive had ever experienced. Luna leaned forward, squared her shoulders, and cast a spell.

Luna’s sleeping body curled up in the center of the room as the Watcher of Dreams set out to greet her sister.

A young alicorn mare landed at Luna’s feet. Luna stumbled back, kicking up dust as she went. She reached to help the mare up, but froze at a word.

“Come, Luna. We begin again.”

Luna’s eyes snapped up. Her wings extended as everything inside her told her to run. It was her.

Commander Hurricane walked across a wide circle of dirt. She wore light armor over her pale blue coat. It was tough but soft, enough to defend against hoof-to-hoof strikes, but not enough to stop a spear point. “Get up. Thou art not learning from the dirt, but from me.”

Luna’s mouth dried out. She looked down as the young alicorn mare groaned. The mare’s coat was dark blue, while her mane was lighter by far. Her knees were barked. Her hooves were chipped. Her feathers were a mess. Her lip was bloody. She staggered to her hooves.

“Thou can do it, Luna!” a voice called from the sidelines. Luna turned her head to see that the speaker was another young alicorn, one with a white coat and pink mane. “We believe in thee!”

Hurricane crouched low, her wings spread. “Keep thine hooves up. Go.”

The young, blue alicorn lunched, her hooves a flying frenzy. Hurricane barely moved as she caught each strike. She flapped her wings, catching the young one in the sides of her head. A quick jab to the chin knocked her onto her back.

Hurricane stood victorious above a bruised and battered Luna. “Thou art striking with thine heart, not thine head. Think. Do not allow anger to control thee.”

Luna watched with held breath as her younger counterpart stood up. She cantered up to the sidelines and sat beside a unicorn mare, who ignored her. She looked past the unicorn to look at the pink-maned alicorn, who sat on the edge of her seat.

“Pray tell, young one,” Luna said. “What transpires?”

“The Commander tests our skills in the martial arts.” The alicorn did not take her eyes off the match. She giggled. “I am to be next.”

Luna nodded slowly. “Dost thou think thou shall be victorious?”

“Nay, but I shall give a good showing.” The mare winced as the younger Luna fell to a powerful punch. “Though I think Luna may wish for more training.”

Commander Hurricane pulled the young Luna to her feet. “One more round, then I am finished with thee.”

Luna ripped herself out of Hurricane’s grip. Her eyes smoldered under her mussed mane.

“For today,” the commander said, her own eyes emotionless.

The elder Luna gasped as a memory flashed by in her mind. She stood and raised a wing. “Wait! Look out!”

The young Luna’s horn flared white, grabbing Hurricane and smashing her into the dirt. She bared her teeth and threw a lightning bolt at the prone commander.

Hurricane rolled. The lightning turned dirt into glass. She gave her wings one powerful flap and threw herself at her opponent. Her forehead impacted against the young Luna’s eye. She wrapped her forelegs around Luna’s neck and held her down. “Thou fool! Magic shall not aid you in every event! Enemies shall counter it, spells shall negate it, monsters shall feast on it!”

“Let me go!” young Luna screeched.

“Thou would put thee and thy allies at risk with thy foolhardiness.” Hurricane’s muscles strained to hold the adolescent alicorn down. “Thou shall learn thy lesson or others shall suffer for it.”

The pink-maned alicorn stood up and hesitated. The unicorn put a hoof on her shoulder. “Wait a moment, then go to your sister, Celestia.”

The elder Luna looked down at the little unicorn mare. She wore a full-length cloak that hid her body from view, save for the reddish braid pulled over her shoulder. “You are certain that—?”

Hurricane let Luna get to her feet. “Five minutes,” she called out before flying off.

Celestia rushed to the young Luna’s side and spoke in a hushed voice. Luna stood up to move closer, but the unicorn mare touched her shoulder. Luna looked down and saw two magenta eyes.

“I can only hope Luna grows out of her hubris before she hurts herself.” She sighed. “And her sister.”

Luna looked at the two young alicorns. Celestia had Luna in a gentle embrace, and was rubbing a damp rag over her cuts. “I fear not, Clover.”

“It is her heart’s promise to make, of course,” Clover the Clever said as if she hadn’t heard Luna. Considering how similar the dream was to memory, perhaps she hadn’t. “When I first read those prophecies, I did not believe they would be fulfilled like this.”

Celestia stared at Clover, her ears perked. She pressed her lips together and rubbed Luna’s back. “Thou just needs be a little swifter in thy movements. Then thou shall take the Commander by surprise!”

“Thou jest, sister.” Young Luna brushed the damp cloth away. “My strength lies not in the hoof, but the horn.”

Celestia smiled. “Aye, but thee and I have the potential for our strength to lie in hoof, horn, and wing. The wizard told us.”

Young Luna’s forehead furrowed. “His beard is as long as his tales are tall.”

The elder Luna chewed her bottom lip. She trotted over, barely noticing that Clover had ceased to exist. “But he speaks the truth this time, young one. You are more than you realize.”

Young Luna didn’t respond, instead taking the time to stare at the glass she’d burned into the small arena. Celestia looked surprised. “How could you know such things, your Grace?”

“Because she is not your sister,” Luna said with a pointed look at the memory of herself. “I am.”

Celestia squinted as, all around, the memories faded to a dull blur. “Luna? Thou lookest…” She pulled back her upper lip. “Old.”

“And thou lookest just out of diapers.” Luna chuckled. “Oh, sister, I can’t tell you how good it is to see you up and about.”

“Of course,” Celestia said with a chipper smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Luna’s merriment dissipated. “You… you see, Celestia, you—”

“If thou truly art my sister, then stop being so formal!” The world returned to sharp contrast as Celestia grabbed Luna’s hoof. “Come, I must show thee all the things we have been doing! Even now, Centurion Pansy says, diamond dogs are amassing for an attack on Fort Everfree!”

A fort it was, and a hastily built one at that. The walls were firm stone, but held together by weak cement. The watchtowers were staffed by overtired soldiers weary from a running battle. Armor bearers worked constantly to sharpen weapons and repair armor.

“All shall go as planned,” Celestia piped up. “The Commander and I shall lead a force to draw them into the open, and thou shall cast buffs on us to protect us! All the while, the Centurion’s Elites rain down arrows. And more than that…”

Celestia stood proud before the ugliest diamond dog Luna had ever seen. Chains restrained every limb. His fur was ratty. His teeth were crooked. His eyes were red and bloodshot. He smelled of filth and decay. His tail had a chunk removed. Scars ran the full length of his body, centered around his thick neck. He grimaced at them. Or maybe it was a smile.

“Since we have captured their leader, Wulf,” Celestia said, “they will be completely confused.”

Luna’s heart raced. “No. No, no, no, no, of all the days to be reliving, sister…”

Night came without Luna’s command. She spun around, reminding herself that it was just part of the dream, not someone stealing her control. Campfires burned as most of the soldiers did their best to rest after a long struggle.

Luna was alone next to the chained diamond dog chief. He chuckled faintly to himself. Celestia was nowhere to be found.

“Celestia!” Luna ran through the camp. “Celestia! Wake up! To arms! To arms!”

No one could hear her. They weren’t real, just figments of imagination in a dream built from memories. The memories, however, were real. As were the first screams.

Diamond dogs erupted from the earth beneath her hooves. Luna stomped them back down, but they popped up elsewhere. They grabbed hot coals with their bare hands and flung them onto the tents. They slid blades into the chests of sleeping ponies. After they could no longer keep themselves quiet, they howled at the full moon in triumph.

Hurricane woke first. “To arms!” she shouted as she burst from a burning tent. She laid a diamond dog low with three well-placed strikes. “Arise! To arms! The enemy is among us!”

Celestia stumbled out of a tent, the young Luna behind her. She shrieked and planted her rear hooves in a dog’s chest, sending him flying into a nearby inferno. The younger Luna screamed and lifted two diamond dogs into the air on a current of magic. She threw them over the wall.

The elder Luna met Celestia. “We need to get out of here! You don’t need to live this again, sister. You have already dealt with this!”

“I cannot leave them behind!” Celestia grappled with another dog before throwing him to the ground. “I have to protect my people!”

She brushed past Luna and barreled into a dog, knocking it down before it could slay a soldier. Ponies and diamond dogs crowded into the melee, obscuring Luna’s view of her sister. She flew above the battle and searched with wild eyes. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to see this again. She had to make sure Celestia didn’t.

But she failed. The dream moved forward, as they often do. Wulf was free from his chains, which were instead used to hold Hurricane, Clover, and Pansy. Two of the strongest diamond dogs held Celestia steady with their burly arms. All around, dogs and ponies lay dead and dying.

The younger Luna cried out when Wulf stomped down on her wing. He lifted a sword shaped like a jagged fang. “Diamond Dogs!” he shouted.

“Diamond Dogs!” came the response.

“Gems we find!”

“Gems we hog!”

“Moving rock!”

“Digging dirt!”

“Gems uncovered!”

“By our work!”

“Carts to ride!”

“Swell with pride!”

“Smash their bones!”

“Flay their hide!”

He grabbed young Luna’s light-blue mane and lifted her up. “Pony prophesies say you savior?”

She raged as her horn glowed.

He slapped the flat of his blade against her horn, halting the spell. “Talk with horn? Then I talk with hands.”

The elder Luna dove at the scene. She flew through the diamond dog chieftain without even fazing him. Nopony else noticed her, once again.

“Let her go!” Celestia wailed. “Let her go, thou monster!”

“Release my chains, dog!” Hurricane said. “See how brave thou art!”

Wulf slapped Luna across the face, leaving a cut in her cheek. He snarled and tossed her towards the Founders. “This what happen to pony saviors! This what happen when you try take our land! Our gems! Our soil!” He howled at the moon, and his dogs with him.

The elder Luna swung a hoof that trailed right through a diamond dog’s head, leaving him unscathed. She grabbed another, who turned to shadow in her grasp. She held down the lump in her throat. “Celestia… you need to wake up.”

Celestia glared at the trampled grass underfoot. Her body trembled as she lifted her gaze to Wulf.

Wulf sauntered over to the young, blue alicorn. “We show you what happen to all pony if little annoying ponies ever come back!” He twirled his blade, letting it come to a rest against her back.

“Enough!” Celestia said. “No more!”

The diamond dogs holding her tightened their grip. Her eyes flashed with visible light. “Let her go!”

Wulf’s grin disappeared, replaced with a confused scowl. The grimacing smile soon returned. “Sorry. Can’t hear little pony whine over Wulf’s own laughter. What?”

Celestia closed her eyes and strained. Sweat appeared, rolling down her forehead and sides.

Wulf shuffled his feet. He shook his head and raised his sword. “Don’t worry. She not feel it. Much.”

Celestia howled. Her eyes opened, emitting a blinding whiteness. Wulf froze in shock, his mouth hanging open. Light appeared over the fort’s east wall.

All ponies and diamond dogs turned as one to see the sun rise, deep in the middle of the night. The moon was obscured from view as the darkness ceased to exist. Celestia rose into the air, her entire body shimmering with sunlight. Her captors dangled from her sides.

She burst into flame. The diamond dogs at her sides dropped to the ground, shouting and rolling in the dirt as fire licked at their hides.

Wulf let out a high-pitched whine as what was left of his tail tucked itself between his legs. In the next moment, he snarled. “Pretty light show… over!” He lunged, his blade outstretched.

A pillar of fire came down from the sun and landed on Wulf. His bronze sword melted in his hands. His fur turned white and blew away in a strong, hot gust of wind. His skin turned black, before it, too, turned to ash.

Celestia crashed to earth. The fire went out. The sun set. There was only silence, save for the crackling pit of embers that had once been Wulf.

There was a shuffling, a sound of dirt moving, and the diamond dogs had retreated.

Fort Everfree disappeared, leaving Luna, Celestia, and the embers. Celestia stared at the orange glow, her mane hanging around her face, her eyes bloodshot, her mouth agape. Her breaths came short and quick. “I killed him.”

Luna sat behind her sister. Celestia was small enough to fit into the space between her front legs. She held her tight. “I’m sorry, Celestia.”

“I k-killed him.” Celestia choked. “I could have just broken his leg… or taken his sword… or threw him across the fort. B-but I killed him.”

With her final words, she broke down. Tears flowed freely as sobs wracked her chest. Luna rocked her, her cheek pressed against the top of her sister’s head.

“It is good that you cry, Celestia. Crying helps us heal.” Luna blinked back the dampness in her own eyes. “I only wish your dreams had not reopened this wound.”

Celestia buried her head in the blue hairs of Luna’s chest. Blue feathers encircled her in a warm, comforting embrace.

Luna’s ears swiveled at the sound of hoofsteps. She turned to glare at whoever would intrude on their moment. Clover the Clever stood a scant few meters away, her face obscured by her cloak. Magenta eyes shined in the shadows.

“‘I saw a pony with eyes of lightning. Her heart was hard and strong with a yearning for justice. She carried the sun on her right wing, and the moon on her left. Fire rained from heaven and consumed her enemies, and all trembled at the sight of her.’”

Luna clenched her teeth. “Please, for once just leave the prophesies out of this. Just let us be.”

Clover’s head tilted. “I saw a second pony with eyes of shadow. Her heart was merry, though encased in a prison of stone. She carried the moon on her right wing, and the sun on her left. Darkness was her enemy and constant companion, but she would not surrender.”

Then Clover was gone.

Luna held her sister close as Celestia wept over her first time raising the sun.

Author's Notes:

Headcanons firing on all cylinders, sir!

Batten down the hatches, boys, we're going in full throttle!

Spar

Twilight swung at the hanging punching bag, which made weak paff noises every time she connected. Her hooves jerked back and forth. She winced with each impact, as if she was afraid the bag would hit back.

Daring Do snickered from the other side of the bag. “You haven’t practiced at all, have you?”

Twilight groaned. “I keep telling my mom”—paff—“I’m an alicorn”—paff—“I have so much magic”—paff—“I can turn any attacker”—paff—“to paste.” She sat back and took a swig of water. “You want to see my self-defense classes? Take a look at my magic portfolio.”

Daring Do nudged the punching bag to let it swing. “Then what’s all this for?”

Twilight smirked. “Because if she asks me if I’ve been keeping up, I can answer with an honest ‘yes’ and avoid the lecture.”

Daring Do caught the bag. “I’m so telling on you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I so would.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Actually, I was gonna write to Velvet anyways. Two birds with one stone.” Daring Do held a hoof to her mouth. “Spike! Hay, Spike! Got a job for you!”

Twilight Sparkle grabbed Daring’s shoulder. “You are literally going to tattle on a princess.”

“Impeach Twilight Sparkle!” Daring Do hollered. “She’s disobeying her mom!”

Twilight pulled her mouth to one side. “You can’t impeach a princess.”

“So it’s banishment, then?” Daring Do poked Twilight’s chest. “To the moon with you, and no supper.”

Care Carrot walked in, her coat damp from her morning run. She whistled as she looked around. “Now this is a workout room. Treadmills, barbells, chin-up bars…” She rubbed a hoof over a countertop. “And a nice thick layer of dust.”

“Behold, the Royal Guard has arrived to haul our delinquent princess away.” Daring Do hid behind the punching bag. “We salute their bravery.”

Care stopped on her way to a weightlifting station. She cocked an eyebrow. “Is she drunk?”

Daring Do rolled her eyes. “Why does everypony keep asking me that? No, I’m just having fun.” She nudged Twilight’s shoulder. “Little Miss Magic here hasn’t been practicing her self-defense.”

Care wrapped bandages tight around her hooves. “Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Daring Do waved her off. She hunched down before the bag. “Come on, Sparkle. You’ve got earth pony magic in you. You should be able to hit ten or eleven times what I can. You’re holding yourself back.”

Her hooves slammed into the punching bag as she hit it with a one-two-three combo. She finished up by dropping to her forehooves and twisting around to buck. Sand poofed through the seams. “See? This is about hitting solid. Hard. You aren’t gonna knock a creep-o down by slapping them.”

“Not necessarily,” Care said. She walked over to the bag, tightening the last of her wraps. “If you can hit somepony enough times in a short time-span, you can blow them off their feet.”

Twilight Sparkle sighed. “Guys, I just don’t wanna get into a fight. I can suspend a pony in midair. I can glue their hooves in place. I can freeze them if they really need taking down.” She shrugged. “I can leave the fisticuffs for experts and professionals.”

Care danced lightly on her hooves. “You wanna take down this Hurricane person, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Twilight said. “But that’s why you’re on the team, right?”

Daring grabbed a foreleg to stretch it across her chest. “Celestia’s pretty good at magic. Hurricane took her down.”

Twilight and Care pursed their lips and looked at anything but each other. Daring shrunk in on herself. “S’what I get for having a point,” she muttered.

“I can’t force you to practice,” Care said after a moment, “but if you wanna, I’ll help out.”

“Thanks, Care.” Twilight smiled. She lowered her eyebrows and looked at the guard’s bandages. “What’re those for?”

Care double-checked her knots. “So I don’t break somepony’s nose when I kick them in the face.” She chuckled. “But really, I use a lot of side-strikes in my hoof-to-hoof. After a while, my skin starts getting a little roughed up by the training dummies.”

Daring popped her neck. “Looking for a sparring partner?”

Care raised an eyebrow. She looked Daring up and down, from her grayscale mane to her muscular legs. “You look like you can take it, I think. Sure you’re up to sparring with a guard, Miss Yearling?”

“Not every author is a flabby pony who sits on their butt all day.” Daring trotted over to the counter and wrapped her own hooves in the white wrap. “I was a guard, back in my day. Served under Sparkle’s mom.”

“Really?” Care turned to Twilight. “Who’s your mom?”

“Twilight Velvet,” Twilight said, adding another “paff” to her collection. “She’s Yearling’s editor.”

Care’s mouth fell open. “Twilight Velvet? The Twilight Velvet? As in, ‘former Captain of the Royal Guard’ Twilight Velvet?”

Daring stretched her wings, one at a time. “So you know her?”

“Not personally, but geeze.” Care bumped her forehead. “I don’t know how I didn’t make the connection. Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Equestria. Your brother’s the former Captain of the Guard and current Prince of the Crystal Empire. Of course your mom would be Captain Velvet.”

“I’m pretty sure heroism runs in their genes,” Daring said.

“Now you’ve got me curious.” Care leaned close to Twilight as the princess continued to weakly box the punching bag. “Who’s your dad? A noble knight? A former mercenary? Maybe a retired ambassador to the dragons?”

“He teaches astronomy at Canterlot Junior College.”

Paff, paff, paff.

Care pulled a face. She turned a dull stare on Daring. “Translation?”

Daring held her hooves up. “That’s all I got, too. He discovered a comet once, I guess.”

Care and Daring stood across from each other on the mat. Care fastened a padded helmet. “I’m pretty sure you guys are just messing with me.”

Daring Do tightened the chin strap on her helmet. “Seriously. His defining feature is that he hasn’t faced a titanic monster his entire life. Kicked butt when the changelings invaded Canterlot, but we were all together for that one.” She punched the air twice. “Were you even out of diapers when that happened?”

Care scrunched her muzzle. “I was thirteen.”

Daring grinned. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Care squinted. “You’re trying to get me riled up. It won’t work.”

Daring spread her wings and balanced on her hind legs. “Show me what you’ve got, rookie.”

Care hunkered down on her back legs to keep her forehooves close to her face. “No magic?”

Daring nodded, folding her wings tight. “Cool with me. No quarter asked or given?”

Care tilted her head. She lowered her hooves. “Excuse me?”

“Just a joke, rookie.” Daring rolled her hooves around each other. “You say when.”

Care clenched her teeth tight. “When.”

She kicked her back legs, sending her leaping towards Daring. She rolled and came up swinging. Ten punches hit Daring’s upraised forelegs in quick succession. Care swung a rear leg in a semicircle to catch her opponent’s, but Daring Do hopped over it.

On her way down, Daring brought her hoof towards Care’s helmet. Care clapped her hooves together and caught the punch. She twisted Daring’s foreleg, but the pegasus rolled with it, spinning through the air. Daring wrenched out of Care’s grasp and followed up with a strong uppercut.

Care leaned away to avoid the blow. She used the inertia to carry her into a back flip. She kicked her legs out and wacked Daring in her chest. The pegasus stumbled back one step.

“Whoa-ho, the rookie’s got some skill.” Daring Do dropped to all fours and bounced. “Do I detect some mastery with the way of the woodpecker?”

“I know a little, yeah.” Care Carrot wiped her nose. “What’ve you got, Yearling? Just boxing, or something I haven’t seen before?”

Daring Do jumped alongside Care. Before the unicorn could turn around, Daring slammed her shoulder into her middle. Daring wrapped her forelegs around Care’s torso and took her to the ground. After a quick scramble, all four legs were restrained in a tight hold.

“Maybe a little,” Daring grunted. “Betchya didn’t see that coming.”

Care broke a leg free, brought a knee to Daring’s side, and then rolled away. She brought her forelegs up in a ready stance. “Got me with it once…”

Daring Do jabbed, then followed up with a left hook. Care caught the first, then ducked under the second. While she was low, she let loose a flurry of hits to Daring’s side. Daring reached down to block, but Care shifted around to the pegasus’ back. She circled around, constantly moving, constantly delivering volley after volley.

Daring smacked her in the side of the head with a sweeping backhand. Her next strong uppercut landed square in Care’s shoulder. The force of the blow carried the unicorn up and over to the edge of the mat.

Care lay there for a moment, her legs in the air. She let herself flop down, her chest heaving. “Uncle.”

“And experience triumphs over youth once again!” Daring held her hooves in the air. She reached down to grasp Care’s foreleg. “Great job, Captain. Next time, try not to tire yourself out.”

Care got to her feet and pulled off her helmet. “You’re not so bad yourself, Miss Yearling.”

“Call me Amber,” Daring Do said. “Amber Kestrel Yearling.”

“Woo-hoo!” Twilight Sparkle pounded her hooves into the floor. “Go Aunt Yearling! Woo!”

“Don’t cheer too loud, Sparkle,” Daring said. “You’re next.”

Twilight froze. “Huh?”

Daring clapped a hoof on Twilight’s back. “But first we gotta teach you how to actually punch.”

Care shook her mane out. “Your Highness, I’ve been meaning to ask—”

Twilight rubbed her eyes. “‘Twilight,’ please.”

“Fine. Twilight.” Care grabbed the bag and held it while Twilight paff, paff, paffed against it. “Where’s Mister Blank? I haven’t seen him around since he arrived.”

“He’s holed up in one of the guest rooms.” Paff, paff, paff. “One of the many guest rooms. He said he wanted to keep mostly to himself.”

Care frowned. “I don’t like it. I don’t trust him. He’s hiding something.”

“My mom seems to vouch for him.” Paff, paff, paff. “I trust her.”

Daring Do did a few slow wingups. She winced each time she pushed up. “I don’t see what the big deal is. He’s just this weenie little stallion. Makes good oatmeal, maybe, but he ain’t done anything suspicious.”

“He dodges all my questions, or outright says he won’t answer.” Care brushed a lock of green mane over her shoulder. “Call me paranoid, but he’s one big…” She smacked herself in the forehead. “Blank. Of course he is.”

Daring Do took the bag from her. “Maaaybe you should stop treating every conversation like an interrogation.”

Care bit her bandages to free her hoof. “He’s a potential danger living right in the castle—”

“He’s also a potential friend.” Paff, paff, paff. “Again, my mom’s my secondary litmus test for whether something’s good or bad.”

Care shook her legs one by one. “Who’s your primary?”

Paff, paff, paff. “Spike.”

“Yeah?” the dragon in question walked in on all fours, carrying a sheet of paper. “You need something, Twi?”

“Maybe encouragement.” Twilight let her forelegs drop to her sides. “Eagh. I think I’m done for the day.”

“Good, because I just got a message from the mayor’s office.” Spike passed her the note. “You’re wanted in a meeting ASAP.”

Twilight took the sheet and skimmed it. “Does it say what Applejack wants?”

“Not a word.” Spike waved. “Hay, Aunt Yearling.”

“How’s my favorite dragon?” Daring Do squeezed Spike in a bear hug. “Getting bigger, but you’re still a little scrawny in your legs.”

Spike flexed a muscular arm. It swelled to about twice the size of Daring’s hind legs. “Whoops, guess I’ve been neglecting it.”

Twilight blew a breath through her lips. “I’ll be back later, guys. Apparently, this can’t wait.”

“We’ll hold down the fort.” Daring Do gave her a light shove. “You just do your princessy things. Change the world a little while you’re at it.”

“Should I come, too,” Care asked.

“I’d like you to come, but it says it’s a private meeting.” Twilight removed the sweat bands around her ankles. “Maybe you and D—Yearling can figure out something about the throwing knife while I’m gone.”

Care’s head snapped to Daring. “You have one of the knives?”

“Had,” Twilight said through gritted teeth. She shook her head and trotted out the door. “Just try not to kill each other, okay?”

Twilight Sparkle flapped her wings to slow her descent. She sighed. The protestors were already picketing City Hall. And of course, Miss Merry Mare, former Mayor of Ponyville, was already preaching to her own personal choir through a magically-enhanced megaphone.

“It’s autumn, Ponyville!” she said. “And still there is no word from Applejack whether she will restore the Nightmare Night Celebration! Are we to just lie down and take it while such a culturally important event is set aside for the selfish desires of our mayor?”

“No!” the crowd shouted.

“What will become of our children if they are deprived of candy? Of the opportunity to showcase the costumes they’ve worked so hard for?” Merry Mare gripped her podium. “All in the name of roads that have not seen an iota of improvement!”

Twilight Sparkle groaned. She nudged her way through the crowd, making sure to bump as many ponies aside as possible. She stood up next to the podium and cleared her throat.

Merry Mare narrowed her eyes behind her glasses. “May I help you, Princess?”

“Why I’d love to speak!” Twilight said, taking the megaphone from Merry. “Attention People of Ponyville! The Nightmare Night Celebration is not, in fact, cancelled! Nor was it ever. Nor will it ever be, thanks to Princess Luna!”

She smirked at Merry Mare. “What is happening is that, due to budget constraints, there will not be a complimentary apple-bobbing game, or a band from out of town. Instead, all activities and entertainment will be provided by individual citizens of Ponyville. Also, I hear Pinkie Pie’s taken a personal interest in organizing trick-or-treating this year.”

Merry scowled. She reached for the megaphone, but Twilight turned away to address a different portion of the crowd. “By the way,” Twilight said, “there is free ice cream to anypony here who brings me a poison joke flower today. Thank you.”

She turned off the megaphone, set it on the pedestal, and walked into City Hall, leaving a quietly fuming Merry Mare to address a few very confused ponies.

Inside, at a desk marked “Assistant Mayor,” Pinkie Pie tapped away at a typewriter. She muttered to herself at a volume just below shouting. “Then we could take a loop through the Berryborough cul-de-sac, which would just about double our candy intake, followed by a trip down Mane Street, and finally ending at—” She looked up with a start. “Twilight! You’re here! You’d better go in right away.”

Twilight lifted a hoof. “Is it serious?”

“I dunno, but Applejack looks nervous enough to eat her hat.” Pinkie climbed over her desk and took Twilight’s foreleg. “They won’t let me go inside. They say it’s secret.”

“They?” Twilight’s brow furrowed. “They, who?”

“I don’t know!” Pinkie waved as Twilight opened the door. “If it’s a monster, kick its butt for me!”

Twilight giggled as she shut the door. Applejack sat behind her desk, her hat clutched firmly to her chest. A cloaked pony sat in one of the two seats in front of the mayor’s desk. Twilight took the other seat. “Hay, Applejack. What’s up?”

The cloaked pony removed her hood, revealing Princess Luna. “‘What’s up’ is that Andean is coming for a visit.”

Twilight Sparkle blinked. “Oh.” She looked at Applejack, who had twisted her hat in a knot at the sound of the griffon king’s name. “Oh.”

“I believe his visit may have something to do with Celestia’s… predicament.” Luna shrugged. “Whether he had something to do with it, or is merely coming to offer condolences, it offers us a challenge.”

Twilight idly began to chew on her mane. “Isn’t this the king who almost started war over dinner?”

“Ain’t quite the exact situation, but pretty much.” Applejack’s hollow chuckle did nothing to lift her spirits. “He’s cooled down a little since then, hasn’t he?”

“Perhaps a bit. Trade has stabilized, when for many years it was touch-and-go.” Luna leaned forward. “It may have something to do with the new weapons Felaccia has been producing.”

Twilight Sparkle rubbed the base of her horn. “He wants to show off.”

“It’s possible. Though as a show of force or a demonstration of a new product, I cannot speculate.” Luna rested a hoof on Twilight’s foreleg. “But that is not quite why I called you to this meeting. His visit offers an opportunity.”

Twilight patted Luna’s hoof. “How so?”

“He will no doubt be expecting some sort of welcoming party.” Luna waved a hoof. “A ball, dinner, some sort of shindig. I believe that if we throw such a party, it may attract other attention.”

Twilight sucked in a breath. “The assassin.”

Luna nodded. “Celestia was attacked during an opera. If Hurricane was willing to attempt such a ploy during a public show, then how much moreso will she try again during a grand ball?”

Twilight shifted in her seat. “She’d have to know security will be a dozen times higher. Not only with the Royal Guard, but also Andean’s Blitzwings. She’d be crazy to attack.”

“She’d have tah be crazy to attack Celestia.” Applejack shut her eyes tight and bit her lip. “It ain’t all, Twilight.”

“What do you mean, Applejack?” Twilight asked.

“Applejack knows the king the best out of all of us.” Luna pulled her cloak tighter. “It was she who spent the most time with him during the event with the Sapience, after all. Though I must play the host, after a certain time has passed, Applejack will distract Andean, while I go off to someplace less guarded. There, I shall act as bait, and Hurricane shall come.”

Twilight jumped up and grabbed Luna’s shoulder. “Wait. Hold on—”

“And then you and your team shall jump out and subdue her.” Luna smiled calmly. “You may have your doubts about my abilities, but unlike my sister, I shall be prepared.”

“I don’t doubt your abilities; I doubt that using yourself as bait is the best plan here.”

“How else can we flush out the fiend, Twilight?” Luna stood up to her full height. Her starry mane flowed out from beneath her cloak. “She must be stopped, and if I am to put myself in harm’s way, so be it. I’m already in danger.”

Applejack tapped her hooves together. “Ah think she’s on the right track, Twi. You wanna catch a critter, you gotta use the right bait.” She gave Luna a stern look. “Ah just better find out that the bait’s still alive at the end o’ the day.”

“Thankfully, this is not fishing.” Luna rubbed her chin. “But we still need the right hook. Ideas on a celebration?”

“As cliché as it might sound,” Twilight said, “what about a Nightmare Night Masquerade?”

“Much as it would give this Hurricane fellah a chance tah blend in”—Applejack smoothed out her old hat and plopped it on her head—“there is such a thing as makin’ things too easy for them.”

“But I see opportunity for plainclothes guards.” Luna nodded. “I shall consider it. Thank you for agreeing to help, Lord Mayor.”

“Just Applejack to friends, Princess.” Applejack bowed. “Ah guess ah’ll see you gals this weekend? That’s when the party is, right?”

“That’s when Andean’s coming, yes.” Luna covered her head with the hood. Her body shrunk down to the size of an average pony. “Twilight, would you walk with me?”

Applejack leaned on her elbow. “Ah guess ah’d better make an appearance for the protestors.”

“With luck, they’re digging around the Everfree for blue flowers to exchange for ice cream.” Twilight sniggered. “I’d better buy a pint or two in case they are that dumb.”

Applejack tilted her head. Her eyes lit up with realization. “You’d better keep that junk the hay away from Sweet Apple Acres, you hear? Ah ain’t fixin’ on shrinkin’ again anytime soon.”

Twilight grinned as she slid through the door. “Goodbye, Appletini.”

“Gowan before ah kick you out.” Applejack took a large green stamp and thumped it down on the first of several requests.

Twilight Sparkle and Princess Luna walked side-by-side through the city streets. Twilight nibbled a strand of mane. “So I guess the disguise is because of the assassin?”

“I cannot very well walk around in full view of everypony, no.” Luna’s hood bowed. “It would put the ponies around me in danger.”

Luna walked in silence for a few more steps. “I have news of Celestia.”

Twilight nearly jumped out of her skin. She trembled as she kept her nervous energy from spilling out. “H-how is she?”

“She is… dreaming.” Luna sighed. “She is reliving her memories, one by one, day by day. She’s seeing each one as if for the first time.” Her steady hoof-patters faltered. “Even those that she fought so hard to overcome. She’s being crushed by sorrow. All over again.”

Twilight felt tears well up. “M-maybe it’s part of the healing process. Do you think it could have—have something to do with her heart?”

“Chance may have it.”

Twilight’s ears lay back. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yes.” Beneath the hood, Luna’s eyes grew hard. “Catch the assassin. Bring her to justice. Make Celestia safe.”

Twilight stopped. She wrapped her forelegs around Luna. “I will. I won’t let you or her down.”

Luna kissed the top of Twilight’s head. “I know you won’t.” Her horn shone with bright magic. Blue sparks descended around her. “I go to prepare, Twilight. See you later.”

She vanished in a bright teleport. Twilight Sparkle stared at the now-empty spot, sighed, and returned to the castle.

Care turned the throwing knife over in her telekinetic bubble. She flipped it over to look at both sides of the burn mark. “This is it.”

“Yup.” Daring Do pulled up a page of her sketchbook, showing the marking as they’d looked before the test. “Details match Hurricane’s blades exactly. It sounds freaky, but Twilight said this pony might actually be Commander Hurricane.”

“That’s what Princess Luna thought.” Care set it down in a padded case. “Brought here through the ages… to kill alicorns, apparently.”

“And not a single clue about why.” Daring Do tugged at the ponytail her mane was tied up in. “You know what? If we run into her, feel free to interrogate all you want. I dunno how else we’re gonna get answers.”

The tea kettle whistled. Care walked through the kitchen and grabbed it with a hot pad. “One hot cocoa, coming right up. One marshmallow or two?”

“Three. If it don’t fit, make it fit.” Daring scratched her cheek. “Yanno, if this gal is the real deal, maybe history has the answers.”

Care rolled her eyes as she stirred a scoop of chocolate into the hot water. “What? Do we look for some book called Ye Olde Exposé: Why Commander Hurricane Secretly Hates Alicorns?”

“Well, it’s never that easy…” Daring Do accepted her mug and took a swig. “But you’d be surprised how much dirt you can find on the Founders just by trolling through their diaries.”

Care pulled her chair closer to Daring. “How many did that?”

“Starswirl kept a journal, obviously.” Daring counted on her feathers. “Clover had a diary, but it’s mostly full of diagrams for a bunch of magic enchantments and constructs. Real technical stuff. Chancellor Puddinghead never learned to write, but he kept in contact with the Crystal Empire by dictating to Smart Cookie. I think Princess Platinum had the minutes of the royal court read to her as a bedtime story every night. Kinda a sleep aid.”

Care blew on her cocoa. “Or a way to make sure she didn’t miss anything.”

Daring licked marshmallow fluff from her upper lip. “Huh. Maybe.”

Care did a mental headcount. “What about Hurricane and Pansy?”

“Pansy wrote poetry. Don’t think he recorded much of his own life down, unless the poems are riddles.” Daring Do glanced over her shoulder. “But this. This right here is the freaky part.” She leaned over the table and motioned Care closer. “The Royal Library locked away everything Hurricane touched.”

Care let her mouth hang open in a scowl. “And why has nopony said anything before now?”

“Because it’s a secret her writing even survives. I don’t even know if the princesses have read it. Maybe they’ve even forgotten about it.” Daring opened her eyes wide. “Some say it was nearly destroyed in a fire. Some say it’s enchanted to be unreadable. Some say it contains secrets mortal ponies were not meant to know.”

“Who are ‘some’?”

Daring snorted. “The archivists. When all you have to do is shuffle books around all day, the mind wanders.”

“We can’t go looking for a ghost story, Amber,” Care said. “This is serious.”

“I’m being serious.” Daring Do tapped a hoof to Care’s chest. “This is me being deadly serious. If we can’t track down this mare, a lot of good ponies are in danger. When you find a better lead to go on, we’ll follow that one. Until then, I think it’s time we asked Princess Luna for the key to the library vaults.”

Care smoothed the orange hair on her chest. “And if it’s nothing?”

“Then it’s nothing, but we’d at least rule something out.” Daring popped the joints in her wings. “This, my fearless Captain Carrot, is where guard work meets field work. Enjoy the ride.”

Care looked into her mug, at the last of the frothy drink. She raised it towards Daring. “To good success, then.”

Daring Do grinned. “To good success.”

They clinked the mugs and downed the last of the drink. A bright flash filled the room. They jumped up, sending their chairs to the floor, and assumed combat-ready positions.

Twilight Sparkle walked out of a cloud of magic dust. She blushed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

They relaxed. Care picked up a chair, while Daring crossed her forelegs. “So, Sparkle,” she said, “what’s the word from the mayor?”

Twilight Sparkle spread her wings and lowered her horn. “Pick out your Nightmare Night costumes, girls.” A determined smile slid across her face. “We’ve got a plan.”

Wingblades flew through the air and embedded themselves into the back of a ratty old couch. The scarred mare trotted across the room and examined her handiwork. She pulled them out, one by one, and slid them between her feathers. She flew into the air and swung one wing in a strong stroke.

The blades hit the couch, burying themselves deeper.

“In other news,” the homemade radio hissed, “High Princess Luna has decided to move the Canterlot Nightmare Night Masquerade up a week to accommodate King Andean’s visit to Equestria.”

The mare floated down to the radio and turned it up. She settled herself down on her cot and flicked her ears around, searching for any sounds out of the ordinary.

“When asked how this would look with High Princess Celestia still injured, Princess Luna stated that Princess Celestia did not want life in Equestria to grind to a halt because of her injury.” The mare’s eyebrow lifted. “No word yet on who did and didn’t get onto the invitation list, but we’ll update you as soon as we find out!”

Her scar itched worse that day. Without treatment, it would soon start to burn. She pulled out her silver canister of ambrosia and daubed a little onto a cloth. She patted her injured cheek with the medicine. It cooled almost instantly.

But it didn’t heal. It never healed. It never would.

She shook her white mane and retrieved the blades still embedded in the couch. She looked around the dark, cold room she’d been staying in. A small, abandoned warehouse on the edge of Canterlot’s ledge. Owned by a pony named Dulcimer, she’d seen on the sign over the door. Only one magic-powered light still had a working bulb, so she’d set up her few pieces of furniture underneath it.

She clicked to a different channel. “You’re listening to ‘Good Afternoon, Ponyville!’ Next up is Sweetie Belle with her hit—”

Click.

“Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of ponies? The Shadowfright know—”

Click.

The next channel burst out with a series of screeches, thumps, and beeps that caused the mare to press her wings to her ears. She slammed a hoof down on the radio, shutting it off.

All was quiet.

A cold chill permeated the room. The scarred mare wrapped her wings around her body to hold in warmth. She shut her eyes tight and gritted her teeth.

A long, low sigh, like an ancient beast coming awake, reverberated around the warehouse. The mare opened her eyes and stared at her hooves. Slowly, hesitantly, she lifted her head and looked at the far corner of the room.

Just beyond the glow of the overhead lamp, just before the shadows enveloped everything in darkness, there sat a mirror. The frame was gold, molded into vine-like swirls and leafy spirals. The mirror was smoother than should have been physically possible, flat down to the molecules.

The scarred mare’s hooves shook as she took a step towards the mirror. The sigh sounded once more, accompanied by air blowing past her mane. Her heart raced. She forced herself to take even breaths. But even with that, she had to fight her own sense of panic every step of the way.

She stood before the mirror, but there was no reflection. There was only a gray, swirling mass of clouds. She prostrated herself, no longer daring to look into the void. Her teeth chattered as another sigh, another breath, touched her body.

“Kill the younger alicorn.”

With that, the chill in the air disappeared. The feeling of panic resided. The presence left the room.

The scarred mare stood, brushed herself off, and bowed her head. “As you have said, Master.”

Author's Notes:

I changed Mayor Mare's name to Merry across all my stories. I don't know why it took me this long to figure out, but sometimes you need time to think things through.