30th day of Frostfall
454 Years after the Defeat of Discord by the Sisters

It was a quiet night, with almost no wind. Clouds hung low over the city, making the moon and stars invisible and plunging everything into pitch blackness. Lanterns were hung all around Countess Flare’s manor, beacons of almost pure white, the magelights burning like tiny suns. A light snow was coming down, little more than a dusting.

There were only a few guards posted outside, and only one at the back door. The mercenary there paced back and forth, trotting between two lights. He had been ordered to look alert, and figured patrolling was the best way to do just that. It was an easy job, really. Working in the city was practically a dream. No trenches, no mud, a pub around the corner for when he wasn’t on duty.

He reached the far light and turned back, and frowned. Something was wrong. He hadn’t seen the hoofprints in the snow next to his own before, and with the dusting coming down, they couldn’t have been there for long.

He followed them around a corner, where they abruptly vanished. The mercenary blinked, confused. He never saw the dark shape drop down behind him from where it had been hanging from a tree overhead. There was a flash of pain, and the snow turned red.

“It appears Lulamoon is going to be late,” Flare said, looking around the table to her eleven other conspirators. She pulled her cloak tighter around her body. There was a draft in the room tonight.

“Just as well,” Golden Showers said. “I’m not comfortable with bringing somepony in this close to the operation. Afterwards there will be plenty of ponies who want to join us, but until we finish this stage, we’re vulnerable.”

“It wouldn’t be shocking if she got cold hooves,” said another pony. “She hasn’t had time to come to the same conclusions we have.”

“We should focus on the operation,” the griffon said. He gestured to the table, where maps of the city and the surrounding countryside were marked with tokens and figures, as if they were plotting troop movements on a battlefield.

“Agreed,” Flare said. “We need to make sure the square is busy that day. We want as many casualties as possible. Those in favor will be warned away, of course.”

“The only difficult part will be making sure that the public associates the disaster with Princess Luna,” the griffon noted.

“The Night Guard uniforms we have are from the official supplier,” Golden Showers said. “They can pass any possible inspection, and are untagged and unnumbered, making it impossible to identify where they came from.”

“Perfect,” the griffon said. “The item is already in the city. There’s nothing like a good atrocity or two to get people motivated.”

“And with the Night Guard implicated, they’ll be motivated in the correct way,” Flare nodded. “We can have the people demanding Luna be removed from power. Then we just revive the petition for an elected government composed of the nobility, and we can slowly push Celestia into being even more of a figurehead than she already is.”

The lights in the room flickered. The assembled group looked up just as the lanterns failed.

Pallas dropped the broken eggshell, the outer surface painted with silver runes, Silver Tongue’s enchantment having done its job of snuffing out the magelights in the room when she cracked the egg. Unlike the unicorns and griffon sitting at the table, she could see in the gloom left behind, her eyes glowing in the darkness.

She ran into the room, jumping onto the table with a heavy thud as her armored horseshoes hit the wood. Maps and tokens scattered to the floor, and the ponies around the table started to panic.

Pallas started with what she was most comfortable with, Hungry Ghost’s borrowed wingblades slashing across the griffon’s throat, his blood spraying into the air and across the table. The masked unicorn sitting next to him lit up her horn with a pale gray light. Even with the light, Pallas was almost invisible, the moving shadows and darkness allowing the cloak she’d taken from one of the fallen assassins to work to its fullest. Pallas struck at the sudden flash, misjudging the distance. Her wingblade skipped off of the unicorn’s cheek, across her left eye, and into her horn, severing it near its base.

The unicorn screamed, and sparks erupted into the air from the severed horn as she fell, clutching at her ruined face. Pallas kicked backwards, hitting the stallion opposite her in the chin, his neck snapping to the side with the sound of crunching bone as he slid out of his seat limply.

The rest of the table was slow to react. They were nobility, not trained soldiers. Pallas flapped her wings and sent a blizzard of maps and tokens into the air from where they were lying on the table. The ponies were already confused and terrified, starting to run towards the doors in the sputtering light. Pallas jumped onto Flare as she tried to get up, knocking her back into her chair and stabbing her through the gut as she moved to the next target.

The first pony off of the table got to the door. Pallas grabbed for a pullcord with her teeth, and spring-loaded blades launched from a box strapped to her shoulder, the darts impaling through the stallion like crossbow bolts. The mare behind him skidded to a stop in horror, giving Pallas time to cut through two more ponies before she reached her, grabbing her tail and pulling, throwing her across the room and into the wall.

There were four left standing. Pallas stepped towards Golden Showers, and two ponies, a stallion and a mare, got in front of her. Pallas ducked down as the mare fired a bolt of green energy overhead, and was forced to roll away as a blade of orange magic came down towards her like an extension of the stallion’s horn.

Pallas’ back hit one of the chairs, and she grabbed it with her wing, throwing it at the stallion with the magical blade. The chair hit him in the face, and his head was thrown back, the magical blade cutting into the ceiling. Pallas slashed across his front legs, severing them at the knee in a spray of gore.

The mare fired again, Pallas barely dodging the attack, the bolt going past her neck and making her coat stand on end in its passage. She slashed at the mare, the unicorn not even reacting quickly enough to put up a defense. The massive blade hit her in the shoulder and tore through to her chest.

“You’re the monster who killed my son!” Golden Showers gasped, as she backed up into the wall.

“I’m glad you remember me,” Pallas said. “This is what you get for trying to kill me and Bianca. No one hurts her and lives.” Pallas jumped into the air, flapping her wings and coming down at her in a short dive. Golden Showers grabbed the unicorn that Pallas had thrown into the wall and tossed it at the thestral. Pallas hit her, cutting her in two just below the ribs and slamming into the wall, her blades sinking inches into the dense wood and sticking there.

Golden Showers ran for the door, screaming in terror for the guards. Pallas grunted in annoyance and tore her blades from the wall, splinters falling around her. She stomped on the unicorn whom she’d de-horned with one of her first attacks, crushing her neck.

“No escape,” Pallas said. She pulled the pullcord at her other shoulder and another volley of darts was launched towards Showers, most scattering wide but one hitting her flank, piercing her cutie mark and making her stumble for one crucial moment. Then Pallas was on her, knocking her down and leering at her. She’d been thinking about how to kill Golden Showers since Zudah had died, and now that she was at her mercy, Pallas found her imagination lacking.

It didn’t mean she was going to let her live, though.

Pallas stabbed Golden in the gut, twisting the blade for a moment while the Duchess screamed silently. Blood dribbled from her lips, and her eyes rolled up as she passed out.

Pallas stood, kicking her. The Duchess didn’t wake up, blood pooling around her. It didn’t feel like enough, like it was over too quickly. She sighed and stood up, not looking at the far corner of the room.

“I haven’t forgotten you,” Pallas growled. “Looks like it’s just you and me now.”

“This is- you don’t need to-” the mare tried to sputter out an explanation. Pallas jumped at her, slamming her sword down. Sparks flew as it hit a magical barrier, the shield spell holding back the strike. “Please! It’s not what it looks like! I’m with the Solar C-”

The shield flickered and failed, not up to the task of holding back Pallas’ wrath. Her wingblade hit the pony in the side of the neck, enough of the force ablated by the shield to keep it from going all the way through, getting stuck on her spine.

Her mouth kept moving as if she was choking on her words, but only blood came out of it. She fell to the ground, the light in her eyes dimming.

Pallas looked around the room full of the dead and dying. The only one still conscious was Flare, still in her seat, blood pouring from the wound in her gut.

The door opened, somepony standing in the doorway. Pallas lunged instinctively, stabbing the half-seen shape the moment she became aware of it.

Silver Tongue’s spell of darkness finally faded away, and the lights came back on.

Pallas’ eyes went wide as she saw who she’d attacked. A colt, too young to even have a cutie mark, was impaled on the end of her blade, looking at the steel through his chest in surprise. Pallas backed up, pulling her wingblade back. The colt fell to his knees, blood gushing from the wound.

He looked up at Pallas with fear in his eyes, starting to shake as shock took him.

Pallas grabbed his hoof.

“I don’t… I’m…” Pallas whispered, not sure what to say.

The colt slumped over his hoof falling away from hers.

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally. She turned at a croaking sound, and saw Flare pointing towards her, her expression evidencing pain beyond just that of somepony with only physical wounds.

Shouting drew Pallas’ attention. She looked down the corridor and saw mercenaries running towards her, stout earth ponies, one of them almost as big as she was. Luna’s command echoed in her ears. Nopony was to see her and live.

Pallas galloped towards them, the cloak around her making her shimmer in the light like a wave of distortion passing through the air. She hit the mercenaries like a runaway wagon, trampling them and cutting them as she moved. Blood sprayed over her, turning her vision red as she lost herself to the fury of battle, slashing left and right with her wingblades and only stopping when the screaming stopped.

Pallas slumped against the wall, blood pooling around her so deeply that it reached her ankles. She panted, trying to catch her breath. She felt something clawing at her, terror and fury in equal measure. She felt a need to escape, her heart pounding so strongly in her chest that she worried she might pass out right there.

She stumbled towards a window, tearing a white sheet down from the wall as she tried to steady herself. The whole world was spinning around her. She heard screaming from outside, and the sound of battle.

Pallas took a deep, struggling breath. It was all wrong. She could hear orders being screamed in the distance. Everything had a fuzzy, dreamlike quality, like she couldn’t be sure what was real, like reality and fantasy were fading into each other. She put her hoof on the windowsill, looking out over the city.

She grunted and smashed through the window, broken glass slicing her coat and cloak, blood falling from the shallow wounds into the snow as she laid still in it for a few moments, the frost helping her focus again, the sharp cold something real. She stood up and shook her head, the night air clean, not stinking of hot gore like the slaughterhouse she’d left behind her.

“Stop right there!” Yelled a voice behind her. Pallas turned, her blade high. She hesitated for one crucial instant, remembering the foal.

It saved Captain Morning Glory’s life. He looked as shocked to see her as she was to see him.She pulled her blade back, starting to slump again as she realized how close she’d come to killing somepony she respected.

“Pallas?” He said, then looked around. His voice dropped to a whisper. “What in Tartarus are you doing here?”

“I was…” She stopped. Morning Glory sighed.

“Wait. Don’t tell me.” He turned away. “I don’t want to know. You’re covered in blood and you look like Tartarus. If you tell me anything I’ll have to report it. Just get out of here before anypony else sees you.”

“I…” Pallas looked back to the window.

“Go over the wall and avoid the main streets. Stick to rooftops. The checkpoints were designed to catch unicorns, not pegasai. You understand?”

“Yeah,” Pallas said. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. Not for this. I just hope to Celestia that you haven’t done something I’m going to regret letting you go for.”

Pallas didn’t answer, launching herself into the air and over the wall, running away from what she’d done. She had to find somepony that could tell her she’d done the right thing. She had to find Luna.

“I’m sorry, but Princess Luna is in the middle of important discussions with the griffon ambassador,” the guard said. Pallas wasn’t sure if he outranked her or not, as she’d never bothered to learn the ranks for the Solar Guard.. She’d thrown herself into the showers, stripping the weapons and armor from her body and leaving them where they’d fallen in her room.

“I need to talk to her,” Pallas mumbled, looking down at her hooves.

“It will have to wait until the discussions are over,” the guard sighed. “Princess Celestia ordered no disturbances tonight. They’ve gotten sidetracked enough already. You can either wait out here or I can have somepony get you when they’re done.”

“No, I… I’ll just find her when she’s done,” Pallas said, turning and starting back to her room. The palace felt strangely empty, most of the patrolling ponies not at their posts. Were they out on the streets, dealing with whatever mess she’d caused? Would they be coming for her next?

“Pallas?” said a voice from above. The thestral looked up and saw worried red eyes. Bianca stared at her, and obviously had been watching for some time, hanging from the rafters by her tail.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” Pallas started, her voice cracking. Bianca dropped down and nuzzled her.

“What is it?” She asked quietly, whispering into Pallas’ ear.

“Can we just… go somewhere private?” Pallas mumbled, not trusting her voice. Bianca nodded and led her like a child towards her quarters, both of them walking in troubled silence. Pallas stumbled to the bed and collapsed onto it. Bianca hopped up next to her and settled down at her side.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bianca asked. “We’re alone here.”

“I… I was only following orders,” Pallas said, sniffling. “I didn’t… I had to…”

“What happened?” Bianca pushed, worried. Pallas turned to look at her and finally broke, embracing Bianca and weeping.

“I killed ponies, Bianca. I had to. I had to kill them. Luna ordered me to kill them. But there was a foal! I didn’t think… I didn’t know there would be a foal there! I didn’t even look before I attacked!”

“Shhh…” Bianca squeezed Pallas gently. “Just let it all out. We’ll talk to Luna and fix this.”

“She can’t fix this,” Pallas whispered.

“She can fix anything,” Bianca said firmly. She pulled away from Pallas and put a hoof under her chin, raising her gaze up so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “I love you, Pallas. We’ll get through this.”

“I love you too…” Pallas mumbled. Bianca smiled and kissed her. Pallas relaxed, sighing and slumping down. Bianca guided her head to a pillow and pulled a blanket over her, settling in next to the bigger thestral and holding her as she fell asleep, tears still falling from her eyes.