It’s no secret that I used to hate the Archons. Why shouldn’t I? Buckers are responsible for so much misery in this world. They deserve to get their tails handed to them, especially after what they did to Amethyst's family.

That’s how I used to think, anyway. Sometimes I wake up at night sweating because I realize… buck it all to Tartarus, I’m one of those bastards. I start to hate myself and panic and act like an idiot. Then I come out of it and I realize that it’s not their fault. It’s not my fault. When Fine first recruited me, I felt like the biggest hypocrite.

Now I know. I can’t claim to speak for every Archon out there, but at least when it comes to Fine and the Order, I get it. What he wants to do is impossible and it’s gonna take a motherbucking miracle to even come close. Goddess knows Celestia won’t help us, and her sister? Fat chance, not with that blasted demon in her head. It comes down to us, and every time I think about it I get chills. We all could die tomorrow, and nothing will have changed.

It’s worth the fight, right? The end justifies the means. The means isn’t even our fault.

But I keep thinking on my friend.

Ammy. I wish I could explain to you why he had no choice.

—Vinyl Scratch, Book of Shadows XLVIII

May 12, C.Y. 1007

Fine sat at his huge cherry desk, poring over letters that periodically appeared in small puffs of smoke. He tried not to think about how it had once been Hoofknife’s desk, as was the study it sat in and the ten-room suite of the castle he was now obligated to live in. Fine’s living arrangements were nothing short of extravagant and he hated every inch of the place. Even the beautiful view of Canterlot, shimmering orange in the dusk, earned his scorn.

This ‘reward’ was like a tantalizing fruit, begging him to take a bite and taste the poison that came with it. Had Celestia not ordered him to make this his new permanent residence, he wouldn’t have been anywhere near it.

He read through another letter and hastily penned a response. Once done, he rolled the letter up and dropped it into a tall bottle filled with a dark blue liquid. Within seconds the letter had dissolved, sent on its magical way to whomever it had been addressed to. Two more letters poofed into existence as Fine grabbed another.

This was a large part of his work; reading letters and making decisions based on them. There were, according to Celestia, five tiers of importance to the letters, but he was only getting the bottom three. The largest pile stood on the floor to the right of the desk. He didn’t look at them too often, as they were beneath his new rank, although he sometimes checked them as a means of quality control on the agents who now answered to him. The letters would disintegrate on their own once whatever Archon it had been addressed to dealt with their contents.

It always struck him as weird, knowing he had ponies under his command now. It was an entirely new experience that, were it not for the circumstances of his promotion, he might have thoroughly enjoyed. Fine had never understood just how good it would feel to be the one giving the orders for a change.

The second tier also didn’t require his direct interference, but they were higher in priority and thus warranted a bit more attention. The third tier, while technically still below his rank, were required reading to ensure that he kept track of major events. According to what he’d learned already, Hoofknife hadn’t been much for monitoring the third tier and had all-out ignored the last two. Maybe that explained the mistakes Celestia mentioned.

Fine didn’t intend to make the same decisions.

A bell rang somewhere in the ceiling. Grumbling, Fine set aside the letter he was reading and made his way through the rooms. Lush carpet covered the study, hallways and bedrooms, while dark hardwood floors made up most of the other rooms. The walls were lavishly decorated with fine art, mirrors and blue paint. Celestia had made it abundantly clear that Fine was free to redecorate the place to his heart’s content, but in three months he’d yet to make a single adjustment. Interior décor had been his father’s thing, and though Fine had inherited the eye for it, he’d never made use of the gift.

Besides, he felt his mentor’s ghost glaring at him any time he considered changing something.

The bell chimed a second time before Fine finally reached the door. He was supposed to have servants for this sort of thing, but had dismissed the lot of them. He pulled the door open with his magic.

“Oh, there you are!”

Fine never knew how to greet this particular visitor. He should probably smile, but that was hard considering the rude awakening she was set to have. The pony was a filly, only eleven years old and decorated with a flamboyant mane of crimson and gold. She ducked a little at Fine’s emotionless stare.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, Mr. Crime,” she said, “but Celestia told me to. She wants me to bring you to her quarters right away.”

Fine finally managed a smile at the filly’s anxious pout. “It’s okay, Sunset; I don’t mind if you come to visit.”

She perked up instantly. “Really? Thanks, Mr. Crime.”

He cringed and coughed into his fetlock. “Please, just call me ‘Fine.’ ”

Sunset Shimmer shook her head, brilliant mane whipping back and forth around her horn. “Nuh-uh! The princess says we should always greet important ponies properly. You’re the Mane Archon, Mr. Crime, and that means you’re a very important pony.”

He sighed and glanced away. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do!” Sunset sat and raised her hoof, mimicking one of Celestia’s dictating poses. “You are a very, very important pony. Only Princess Celestia is more important. She said so.”

Fine stared at the filly, trying to process what he just heard. “She said that? Really?”

“Yep!” Sunset nodded emphatically with a big grin. “It must be neat to be that important. Celestia told me she’s got a major test for you to take and that if you pass you’re gonna do big things for her. Isn’t that great?”

“Uh…” Fine hesitated, but couldn’t bring himself to burst the filly’s bubble. “Yeah, just great.”

“It is!” Sunset frowned and kicked at the floor, her pout coming back. “I wanna take a test like that. I wanna do big, important pony stuff for the princess.”

Putting on a smile took all of Fine’s willpower, but he pulled it off and patted Sunset on the head. “You’ll get there someday.” He didn’t dare mention that it would probably be the worst day of her life, and that assumed she succeeded. Goddess help her if she failed. “And if you want to be proper, call me the Mane Archon. ‘Mr. Crime’ makes me sound like a bad guy.”

Sunset giggled. “It’s just a name, silly, and you’re not bad. You’ve always been nice to me.”

With a sigh, Fine stepped outside and closed the door. “Just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’m good. You’ll learn that someday. Come on, best not keep the princess waiting.”

He walked slowly so her short legs could keep up, and she still moved at a trot. Always with that big, eager smile. Fine liked Sunset – a lot – but not knowing what Celestia had planned for her future left a perpetual knife in his guts. He never tried to warn her of the dangers, though. No point.

More pressing on his mind was this ‘test’ Sunset mentioned. Celestia had told him last week that she would be giving him the full responsibilities of the Mane Archon very soon. Perhaps this ‘test’ was to prove him ready for the role. Fine didn’t like the idea, but he had a job to do, and he never backed out of a job once given.

Celestia’s quarters were in the grand central tower of Canterlot Castle, so it took some time for them to get there. Sunset passed the minutes by cheerfully informing Fine of all she’d learned in the past week; new spells, history, politics, mathematics and so on. Her schooling was going well, and Sunset clearly made for an excellent student. No wonder Celestia had chosen her for an apprentice.

She’s already proven herself to be a remarkable talent. Maybe in a couple of years I can test her and make her my protégé.

“Mr. Crime? Are you okay?”

Sunset was studying him, standing on the tips of her hooves and stretching her neck out to peer at his face. He shook his head and smiled for her. “Sorry, just had a thought.”

“Oh.” They resumed walking, but her eyes were still set on him. “About what?”

“Nothing little fillies need to worry about.”

Twilight Sparkle. Fine would make it a point to look her up. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would mean for Sunset’s future.

At last they reached the large, golden double-doors of Celestia’s chambers. A pair of stern-looking guards stood on either side… or at least, usually stern royal guards. Their pale coats turned an extra shade of white upon seeing Fine and they shifted anxiously as he approached. Fine could never be sure what to think of the reputation that came with his new job title.

Sunset knocked on the door with her little hoof. “Princess Celestia? We’re here.”

Celestia’s voice, gentle as a mother’s, whispered in their heads. Ah, very good. Do come in, you two.

The filly practically bounced through the door; Fine followed at a more subdued pace.

Fine had been in Celestia’s rooms often enough. Due to the highly secretive nature of Archon activities, the princess preferred to meet Fine in private locations such as this. He’d grown accustomed to the lavish nature of the place, with its vaulted ceiling, exquisite wood furniture, silver-framed images and lush purple carpet. To be fair, Celestia only kept two rooms in such a state of grandeur, the lounge and the dining room, which were the ones she would occasionally meet foreign dignitaries in. The other rooms, while still decidedly royal, didn’t put on so much effort in flaunting it.

They found Celestia in her private study, entering just in time for her to discreetly slip some papers into a drawer. Sunset bowed before hurrying to share a quick nuzzle with Celestia; Fine merely stood opposite the desk and waited.

“You did very good, Sunset,” Celestia announced, patting the beaming filly on the head. “Thank you for being so prompt. How’s the reading on Shēnzào’s Enchanting Theorems coming along?”

“About half done,” Sunset replied, though she frowned. “I think some of the translations in that old book are off. They don’t make sense with Spark Dancer’s work on magic entropy.”

The princess ginned and nodded. “Very good, my little pony. Shēnzào and Spark Dancer were born both a century and a world apart, and neither knew of the other’s works. Comparing the two is difficult.”

Sunset’s smile came back in a flash. “And that’s why you assigned me the essay, right?” At Celestia’s nod, she sat tall and attained what was probably meant to be her most confident pose. “Don’t worry, Princess, I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can. Oh!” Celestia raised her hoof as if just recalling something. Her horn shined as a small box on a corner shelf floated towards the filly. “For you. It was a gift from the ambassador of Germaney, but I thought you’d appreciate it more.”

Sunset took the box in her magic and studied it, then bounced high. “The cinnamon kind! Thank you, Princess!”

Celestia grinned and patted Sunset’s mane. “Now you go on, I need to have a private discussion with the Mane Archon.”

“Okay. I’ll try to have the book finished by tomorrow night. Bye, Mr. Crime!”

Fine watched Sunset depart at a trot, then turned to Celestia. The princess waved after the filly before turning to Fine. She cocked her head at his bemused frown. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just wondering when you plan on ripping her heart out.”

Celestia smiled towards the door. “I admit, I’m looking forward to the day I can give her more… mature responsibilities. Sunset has been an exemplary student. If she passes all my tests then I may make her my archmage. I’ve not assigned one of those in…”

“Two-hundred-thirty-two years,” Fine said once her pause lingered too long.

“You’ve been studying.” Celestia’s smile returned. “I approve. Hoofknife said you were a quick learner.”

“Just making sure I can do the job. I’ve been going through the Book of Shadows collection; figure the more I know about what my predecessors did, the better I’ll be at avoiding their mistakes.”

“Smart.” Celestia looked genuinely pleased, but Fine didn’t trust the expression. “You’ll find they all made a mistake at some point or another.” Her smile didn’t fade, but Fine didn’t miss the shift in her tone. “I’m not good at tolerating mistakes.”

“Nor would I expect you to be.” Fine sat and leveled her with a expectant frown. “Now, what is this ‘test’ your naïve little apprentice mentioned?”

“Ah, yes.” Her drawer opened and the letter she’d been reading a moment ago rose into the air. “Tell me, do you know about Jewel Hoof?”

Fine cocked his head, but after thinking on the name he nodded. “He used to be the royal jeweler. That’s about as much as I know at the moment.”

“He had a foal recently.”

Fine glanced at the letter, then shrugged. “So?”

Celestia’s smile grew. “His wife is a pegasus.”

Once again, Fine could only stare.

“He is a unicorn.”

“Oh.” Understanding struck, and Fine’s lips dropped into a scowl. “You want me to punish a pair of ponies because they decided to disobey one of your petty, bigoted laws?”

“The law is the law.”

“It’s a stupid law,” Fine countered with a growl. He didn’t care that he was insulting Celestia; she’d made it clear that he was to voice his disapproval whenever possible, and thus far she’d not so much as given him a harsh look for his opinion. “It makes no sense to make interracial relationships illegal. And why only in Canterlot? Why not all of Equestria?”

“It is still the law. Even so, if it were just this then I wouldn’t be bothered.” Celestia let the letter fall to the desk and steepled her hooves. Her dark smile never faded as she repeated, “They had a foal.”

Fine felt like walking out then and there, but that would have been a mistake. Instead he just glared at Celestia and let the anger simmer beneath the surface. “This is something for the guards, not the Archons. Why bother me with it?”

“Because this is a test,” she replied, pushing the paper towards him with her magic. “It’s not a matter of can you do it, it’s a matter of how you do it. I want Jewel Hoof to be made as an example to the citizens of Canterlot regarding what happens when they disobey my laws. The Royal Guard make decent enforcers, but when it comes to striking fear in ponies’ hearts? That’s the Archons’ job.”

Fine stared at her, then looked to the letter. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach and he realized that he was almost desperate to not read it. Slowly, he reached forward and took the paper in his hooves. He began to read. He got through the first paragraph before putting it back down.

“This is… barbaric,” he whispered. “You actually think they deserve this?”

“Of course not.” Celestia’s smile didn’t waver. “They’ve done nothing wrong, save disobey the law. But it’s going to happen anyway, and you are going to be there personally to make sure of it.”

Fine slumped forward, a distinct horror filling him. “Celestia… don’t make me do this. They don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing. She merely watched with that patient, expectant smile. Once again, Fine picked up the paper in his shaking hooves. This time he read through the whole thing. Every word made his heart ache and his insides churn. “At… at least let it wait a few weeks. I just went to the dungeons three days ago, I can’t have a vision for at least another eighteen. I don’t think I can do this myself otherwise.”

Celestia giggled, regaining his attention. “That’s the point, Fine, I don’t want you to do it yourself. Let me be perfectly clear: this really is a test. I want this done within two days time, and then I want you to write me a full, detailed report on what happened. I want you to tell me how you arranged it and your reasons, without your judgment hindered by the Bloodmane. Pass, and you graduate to the next phase of being Mane Archon. Fail… well, you don’t want to.”

Fine swallowed to ease the dryness in his throat. “The ‘next phase?’ You mean I won’t be fully in the position at that point?”

At that question her smile faded, traded for a ponderous expression. “Very few make it to the full job of Mane Archon. Pass this, and you will be the Mane Archon, but certain doors will remain closed to you. Most Mane Archons remain stuck in that position for their entire careers, such as Hoofknife.”

“I see.” Fine shuffled and glanced at the letter. Part of him was horrified at the prospect of there being more horrors to learn about, yet he couldn’t deny his morbid curiosity.

Celestia leaned back and regained her smile, although this time it was a touch more pleasant. “Let me dangle a carrot before your face: if you do graduate to the full job of Mane Archon, I will give you something that only a pony in your position could desire. I cannot tell you exactly what it is, but I assure you that it will be worth it.”

Fine rolled his eyes and tucked the letter under his leg. “There is no material thing you can offer that would make this job more enjoyable.”

“I’m not offering you anything material.”

He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder with a curious expression. “Knowledge, then?”

She paused to consider her words, tapping a hoof to her chin and cocking her head one way, then another. At last she said, “Something more… ‘health’ oriented. Now go, do your job.”

He sniffed his derision, but did as he was told.

He was incapable of doing otherwise.

The great elevator at the center of Canterlot Castle was broad enough to fit a dozen ponies easily, but today it only held Fine and the five unicorn royal guards who powered the device. Fine sat in the middle of the group, watching as floor after floor of castle passed. He’d often questioned the wisdom of having an elevator shaft in the castle that went directly to the crystal caves beneath the city; it seemed like the easiest way for the denizens below to slip in and wreak havoc. To be fair, the shaft had been made centuries ago, long before the mines had been repurposed.

The last floor disappeared, replaced by rock and marble supports, but still the elevator descended. With every passing second, Fine fought a little more to maintain a calm expression. He kept his legs locked, his neck taut and his eyes focused forward, not daring to show any weakness before the guards. Fine sucked down a deep breath as the rock at last gave way to gleaming crystal. Several seconds later, the lift began to slow.

The lift came to a jerking halt at the very bottom of the shaft, but no opening was apparent. The shaft was now lit by dimly glowing crystals that remained imbedded in the walls, perhaps in the same places they’d been since the mine was first excavated centuries ago. Fine glanced towards the Captain of the Guard, who nodded and turned his attention and horn to a dark wall. With all five guards working in tandem, they managed to lift a section of the wall so that it rose into the ceiling.

Fine sucked down a deep breath to calm his nerves; his muzzle was promptly assaulted by the reek of unwashed bodies, trash and blood. The scent jolted him and he coughed before at last stepping off the lift. “Thank you, Captain. I’ll signal you when I’m ready to return.”

The captain nodded and closed the hidden exit, appearing as eager to be away from this place as Fine was.

Now on his own, Fine adjusted his new vest and checked to ensure his Archon talisman was visible. He gave it a cursory examination; a silver recreation of Celestia’s cutie mark, the tips of the sun touching an outer circle of onyx. At the center of the sun was an eye with a thin iris. It wasn’t the most interesting design, but not a single pony in Equestria would fail to recognize it, and that was exactly what he needed now.

Fine marched through the dim tunnels, not bothering to cover his muzzle against the smell. Before long he found the source; trash piled high and thick in every corner of the path, so constant he couldn’t avoid stepping in some of it. Moldy blankets and clothes, shreds of metal, shattered furniture and so many other things littered the area, but not a scrap of food. This made Fine wonder where the smell was coming from… until he spotted a rotting pegasus carcass amongst the discarded items. He moved on, preferring not to give the fly-infested thing a closer look.

In retrospect, it made perfect sense that this area would be used as a trash heap. Perhaps it was the locals’ method of ‘sticking it to the mare.’ Fine couldn’t blame them in the least.

At last, Fine escaped the tunnels. He stood upon a rise in the floor of a vast cavern of crystal, the roof and walls shimmering in unrivaled splendor. Yet within that cavern was one of the most notorious and worst-kept secrets in all of Equestria: the slums. The floor of the cavern was carpeted with tents, lean-tos and rows upon rows of blankets. Near the far wall stood what had once been a temporary miner’s town, the buildings still standing but in a clear state of disrepair.

The cavern floor was filled with ponies. Hundreds of them milling about, talking, sitting around in groups, fighting, arguing, nursing wounds. None seemed to take note of Fine’s arrival, but to be fair, he was still several hundred feet from the nearest inhabitant. He glanced around, noting the many different tunnels leading out of the cavern. On the other side of the decrepit town was the main entrance shaft, which from Fine’s vantage appeared open to all. He wasn’t fooled; he’d seen the great gates blocking the exit before.

Fine followed the wall of the cavern, making his way to a specific tunnel on his far left. A few ponies, outcasts even among the outcasts, hovered near the walls. A few actively avoided him, cowering in apparent terror as if they feared his gaze. Others watched him pass with blank stares, and some outright ignored him. Many were scarred or had been amputated and more than one appeared to be suffering from some kind of dire illness. A lot of them were thin to the point of exposed bones.

At last, Fine reached the tunnel he was after. A quartet of brutes, appearing a lot healthier than those along the walls, lazed about the place. They jumped to their hooves as Fine approached and moved to block him. Before Fine could even state his intentions, however, they caught sight of his talisman and backed away as if he were made of living flame.

Fine offered no greetings or smiles. He turned his eye upon the biggest of the guards, a half-bald pegasus with only one wing. “You. Tell your boss that I’m coming to talk to him. Nopony needs to be hurt provided he plays along.”

The stallion galloped off as if his tail were on fire. Fine followed, not bothering to even glance at the remaining three. They kept pressed against the walls as if scared to even touch him.

The tunnel within was neater than the rest of the slums. Items were stacked together in some semblance of order and the ponies appeared hardier than the rest of the rabble, even if one could barely call them ‘healthy.’ There was no small number of ponies, but they all gave him a wide berth. Fine thought he saw a mare hiding a foal beneath a blanket. Perhaps she thought he’d come to steal the poor thing away.

If he did, it probably would have been a blessing to the child’s future.

He came upon a three-way split in the tunnel. Fine glanced one way and saw a couple ushering foals away from him. The children appeared so horribly malnourished. He glanced another way and saw ponies hovering around boxes beneath tarps. The strings on the tarps were loose and the ponies were making an effort to block his view of any labels, but the smell of fruit and vegetables reached his nostrils even through the stench of their unwashed bodies. Did they think he was going to take their food supply away if he noticed?

Fine at last turned to the third path, in which ponies were already spread wide apart. Guessing that was due to the stallion he sent ahead, Fine walked along the thin tunnel. Ponies pressed against the walls as if hoping to slip into some unknown cracks as he passed, and he thought he saw more than a few praying. Their eyes were as focused on his talisman as they were on him.

At the far end of the tunnel, Fine came upon a curtain that hung from a rusty pole jammed into the walls. He paused several feet away and waited, his ears picking up the sound of muffled voices. Seconds passed as what seemed to be an argument played out just beneath the level of audibility. At last the voices quieted down, and a moment later the curtains parted.

A stallion stepped out, but came to an abrupt stop upon seeing Fine. He froze, blue eyes sharp and teeth bared. Surprisingly big for a unicorn, he was white with a curly blue mane and moustache. The most striking thing about him, however, was the crack that ran down the entire length of his otherwise impressive horn.

Fine offered no smile. “Hello, Fancy Pants.”

Fancy’s eyes darted to Fine’s talisman, then to Fine himself. He scuffed the floor as if considering whether to make a run for it. “What do you intend to take from me this time, Archon?”

“I don’t intend to take anything from you,” Fine replied. “I intend to work with you.”

Teeth bared, Fancy backed a step. “I want nothing to do with your kind.”

Fine sat and nodded. “I understand. If not for the Archons, nopony would have ever known you were secretly supporting Governor Cadance. To be honest, I can’t believe that Celestia didn’t send you to Tartarus with Blueblood, although I suppose it makes sense to have at least one lasting example in view of the public.”

Fancy eyed him as if expecting an attack. “Good, then you’ll leave. Right now.”

“I don’t think so.” Fine glanced to his left; a stallion with a bandage over half his face averted his gaze. Fine glanced right; a pair of mares attempted to hide, one burying her head beneath the other’s wing. Both were unnaturally thin.

“You’ve been carrying on your work.” Fine turned back to Fancy and worked to keep his voice soothing. “In a mere three months you’ve already made a big name for yourself in the slums. If it weren’t for a few of the more powerful gangs, you could be the leader of this place. More food for the most needy, less restrictive water control, fewer conflicts, more lives saved. You’re a philanthropist even when all your riches have been confiscated and your name been reduced to mud on the surface.”

Fancy growled, tail swishing as he kicked the floor a second time. “What is your point, Archon?”

“I am not just ‘Archon,’ ” Fine snapped. “I am Fine Crime, the Mane Archon, and my point is that I want you to succeed.”

“The… Mane Archon?” Fancy considered this, expression skeptical. “What happened to Hoofknife?”

“He retired,” Fine replied, cringing at how easily the lie came out. “I replaced him not long after the end of the rebellion.”

Fancy thought on this, but didn’t relax. “Archons are Archons. You’re still Celestia’s puppet.”

“You’re right.” Fine grimaced at the fact. “When she gives an order, I must obey. But that doesn’t mean I can’t adjust how things are done. That’s why I’m here.” He raised his hoof, as if to offer it despite them being too far apart for that. “Hoofknife put you down here, and there’s nothing I can do about it. However, if you’ll give me a chance, I think I can help you help these ponies. With time and cooperation, I might even be able to make you the one who hoofs out work permits.”

Eyes widened; now he had Fancy’s attention. “How do I know this isn’t some setup?”

“You don’t.” Fine toyed with his talisman, lacking the knife he usually carried. “Let’s go inside and talk. You can always reject my offer… but know that if you do, I’ll be forced to swing my favor in the direction of one of your rivals. I don’t want to do that. There’s a reason I came here first, Fancy.”

Fancy hesitated, body tense. He stared at Fine, then glanced at the ponies along the tunnel. His gaze fell to the curtain behind him, then back to Fine. Gears were turning in the former businesspony’s head and Fine was content to wait for them to finish working.

At last Fancy stepped back. “I’ll hear you out, Archon. I guarantee nothing.”

Fine relaxed. “That’s good enough for me.”

The hallway remained unlit, save for the lights emanating from beneath a door or two. It was also filthy with trash and covered in dust. A lone lamp hung from the ceiling, unlit and with a crack running along its surface.

Fine huddled in a shadowy corner, his heart pounding and his stomach reeling. Were his legs not firmly locked they would have been shaking. He ran the orders over and over again in his mind, but the repetition did nothing to end his disgust. Sometimes he would close his eyes and pray that it was tomorrow and the deed had already been done.

A stallion with all the heft – and brains – of a rock appeared at his side. “They in there, Packer say.” He grinned, revealing several missing teeth. The rest were yellow and didn’t help Fine’s insides. “Ready fer some fun?”

Where did Fancy find these stallions? “You know what you have to do?”

The brute flexed his shoulders and cracked his neck, never losing that wicked grin. “Oh, yeah.”

Fine nodded. “Just subdue them at first. Don’t get started with the—” he barely avoided shuddering, “—good stuff until I get in there to watch.”

“Hey, yer the Archon.”

That statement brought a curious thought to Fine’s mind. He turned to the stallion, tapping his big shoulder. For all his size and bravado, the brute still flinched at the physical contact. “Hey, a question: why do you work for Fancy?”

The stallion recovered and shot a toothy smile. “Ya mean ‘Why’s a good guy like that employin’ a freak like you.’ ”

Fine waved a dismissive hoof. “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

“Po-tah-to.” The burly stallion didn’t lose his grin, nor did he seem offended. “Lemme tell ya somethin’ about the slums: there are two things in very short supply down here. First’s food, second’s character. Now, Fancy-Schmancy’s big on character, but he gotta protect the food, ya hear? Not many ponies in the slums can do that an’ be all goody-four hooves.”

“Work with what you’ve got,” Fine concluded, expression grim.

“That’s it. You just sit back an’ watch, surface dweller. We might be bucking bastards, but we’re Fancy’s bucking bastards.” With that, he trotted off down the hall.

Perhaps these hired hoofs of Fancy’s were smarter than they appeared, but Fine was still mildly surprised at how well they took to taking orders from a ‘surface dweller.’ By all rights, they should hate his guts. Maybe they did. There were a lot of horror stories about what life was like in the slums and the kind of ponies that lived down here, but Fine had never been fooled. He was an Archon, and responsible for at least a dozen ponies being thrown into a major city’s slum level – four in Manehattan alone, and only one of those deserved it.

Still, that stallion and the five others helping out in this situation all obviously belonged down here. That had been clear from the moment Fancy had introduced them.

The stallion reappeared at the end of the hall, crossing it on his way to the targeted room. He was followed by the other five ponies, some carrying small cans and all moving with the stealth of a freight train; the task had begun. Fine walked down the hall, ears perking as hooves slammed into wood. Another three hits and something gave. A scream filled the air; nopony left their rooms to investigate. Screams probably weren’t that uncommon down here.

Fine’s legs wobbled.

The sounds of magic and fighting filled the air, but didn’t last long. As Fine rounded the corner, he heard a snap followed by a much more primal shriek. Somepony – a mare – was begging for mercy and a foal began to cry. Fine paused beside a doorway, the door itself a shattered mess barely hanging on the hinges. He stood there in silence, breathing heavy and steeling his heart.

He willed himself to walk away, or to step in and stop the brutes, or to order them to cease their work. He struggled to do anything other than what he’d been told to do. His legs refused to budge. He felt like crying, but instead he sucked down the desire and walked forward. It proved disturbingly easy.

Jewel Hoof was red and not a very big pony. He was prostrate on his barrel, held down by two massive earth ponies. His horn had been snapped off and now lay innocuously on the floor. A purple pegasus was pressed against the wall by another earth pony, while a unicorn pinned her wings with magic. A fifth pony, a unicorn mare, lay on the floor, unconscious and bleeding from a cut over her left eye.

“Here.” The brute Fine had spoken to earlier, the only one not unconscious or holding a captive, kicked the horn Fine’s way. “A souvenir.”

Fine lifted the horn and studied it with a deep frown. There was no blood, but he felt no relief from the fact. If anything, this only made the moment all the more real. He was tempted to drop the thing, but instead he held onto it with his magic.

The red stallion tried to raise his head, but it was pinned to the floor by a lone hoof. Even so, his wide eyes were locked on the talisman around Fine’s neck. “P-please, we didn’t do anything wrong! We left the city, what more do you want?”

Fine sighed and shook his head. “Celestia wants you made an example to the public. She gave me very specific instructions.”

“You don’t have to do this!”

“Yes, I do.” Fine looked into Jewel Hoof’s horrified eyes and felt his heart twisting. “I know you can’t understand, but I really do.”

The mare squirmed against her captors. “What have we done to deserve this? We didn’t hurt anypony. It’s not our fault we fell in love!”

Fine turned to her, taking a moment to study her features as best he could under the circumstances. He glanced at the horn floating by his shoulder, then at her wings. Using his magic, he plucked a long pinion from one of her wings. The act elicited a yelp from her, but her eyes were on her husband.

“I don’t intend to let this linger longer than it has to.” Fine looked to the stallion still standing by Jewel Hoof. The pony stared back, awaiting permission. Fine sucked down a deep breath and once again tried to resist. Celestia’s words echoed in his head, loud and ominous and commanding.

He nodded. It happened automatically.

The stallions atop Jewel Hoof began their work, kicked and pounding on him with grins on their faces. He shouted and cried and begged, but the blows didn’t stop. His wife screamed as she was jerked from the wall and thrown on the floor. She tried to run to her husband but was set upon by the remaining ponies before she could get even take a step.

She shrieked as one of the stallions mounted her. Squirming and sobbing proved useless; within seconds her entire body was bobbing to the thrusts. The unicorn pinning her wings gave each a slow twist, drawing out the process of cracking her bones as she howled.

Fine watched; he sat in the corner and observed the scene in its entirety. His ears picked up every scream of the mare as she was violated again and again, absorbed the pleading sobs of her husband as he was forced to watch. Whenever the brutes got tired of his pleas they would start beating him again, only to pause and trade roles whenever one finished with her. Every stallion got a turn, and when the big mare who had been unconscious finally awoke she got to play as well.

Fine just watched, and absorbed, and died inside. He cursed Celestia under his breath, and himself for not being able to resist her commands. He winced with every blow at first, but as time passed his flinching ceased. As Jewel Hoof stopped begging, as his wife ceased her struggles, as their eyes glazed over with acceptance and misery, Fine’s disgust shifted to anger. It boiled within him like molten lead.

All of this.

Over a foal.

The thought brought his focus back, and her glanced around the room. A makeshift, old, damaged crib sat in the corner of the room. Mind numb, he approached it. There, half-buried under a blanket, lay a tiny little lump of filly. She couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old. She stared up at him with big, uncomprehending purple eyes, her tiny horn just visible beneath a mess of dark violet mane. She shared her mother’s coat color.

“Almost fergot the kid.”

Fine barely gave the stallion at his side a glance. The pony reeked of sweat and sex and blood. The desire to stick a blade through his throat was strong, but Fine ignored it; he wasn’t about to go picking a fight against six ponies.

No… he’d deal with those bastards later, in the manner of an Archon.

Fine lifted the filly from the crib, cradling her in one leg. She batted at his talisman with a giggle.

The mare must have heard the sound, for she abruptly began to squirm once more beneath the stallion currently rutting her. “P-please…” Her voice was hoarse from the screams, barely amounting to a whisper. “S-spare my little Ammy. Please…”

Fine sat and raised his hoof as the stallion climaxed inside her. “Enough.” None argued; they’d all had their way with her multiple times as it was. She made no attempt to move as he approached her, fresh tears forming rivers down her soiled cheeks. Her face and mane were covered in semen, dried and otherwise.

She trembled on the floor, whispering pleas of mercy for her child. Fine glanced at the husband, but Jewel Hoof stared at the scene with the gaze of the broken. Fine knelt before the mare and displayed the foal. “What is her name?”

The mare tried to move her legs to reach for the filly, but they’d been broken by the overzealous rapists. Through a sob, she managed to whisper, “A-Amethyst Star. Please… please don’t hurt her…”

“I won’t.” He brought little Amethyst closer to her mother’s face, and the mare nuzzled the filly. Some of the white gunk on her face got on the foal, who giggled. The mare sobbed when she realized what she’d done. He waited for her to say something, perhaps a goodbye or some last words, but she did not. At last, he stepped back.

When he looked up, he saw the brutes were already pouring the contents of the cans they’d been carrying before onto Jewel Hoof. It was oil.

Fine glanced to the closest stallion. “She doesn’t need to watch.”

The stallion shrugged. “If you say so.” He leaned down to grasp the mare’s throat and began to squeeze. She gasped and squirmed, but her movements were sluggish with weariness.

With a grimace, Fine summoned one of his aural swords and thrust it forward, piercing the mare’s skull. The stallion jumped back with a cry; the blade had almost got his leg. Fine sucked down a deep breath, letting his anger simmer beneath the surface; the mare's convulsions ended. A single dark glance was all it took to silence the bastard before he could complain.

Fine turned his attention to Jewel Hoof just in time to see one of the stallions drop a match. The room lit up in an orange glow, and Jewel Hoof found the last bit of energy needed to shriek. Fine watched as the stallion, too broken to even run, became a living inferno. The brutes who had performed his dark deed for him left, laughing amongst themselves. Fine didn’t move.

He stared. He loathed. He simmered and cursed under his breath and sobbed for his villainy. When Jewel Hoof finally stopped moving, Fine turned and vomited, as if that were the final thing he needed for the sickness within him to be completed.

He shuffled out the door, tears streaming down his cheeks. He collapsed in the hall and clutched the foal close to his chest. He considered using one of those aural swords on himself. He probably should. Or maybe he should jump in the flames and burn like Jewel Hoof.

The sound of a yawn touched his ears. He looked down to find Amethyst snuggling up to him, eyes heavy and a small smile on her lips.

Celestia peered at the report floating before her, her expression stern. Fine sat opposite her, staring into the shimmering golden light of her horn and fantasizing about snapping it off. Between them, Jewel Hoof’s horn and his bride’s pinion lay across one another on Celestia’s desk. Fine hadn’t said a word since arriving fifteen minutes ago with his report, nor had he reacted when she told him to wait while she read it.

At last the glow of the horn died. The fog of Fine’s thoughts faded as the report dropped to the table, and he found Celestia’s eyes upon him. “This is good, Fine Crime. You did as you were meant to.”

Fine said nothing. He felt no anger or sadness or fear. He just felt… empty.

Celestia leaned forward, her gaze piercing. “There are two things I want to know. First, why did you choose to work with Fancy Pants – a known enemy of the crown – instead of using Archons for the job?”

Fine didn’t have to think on his answer. “Getting Fancy to control the slums will make things a little less chaotic down there. Makes keeping control of the place easier; less risk of riots and the like.”

She considered his reply, tapping a hoof to her chin. “And how did you convince him to help you on something like this?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Fine admitted. “Took a lot of talking. I convinced him that hurting two ponies to gain the power to aid all the slum bums was a good trade, although I know he won’t be sleeping well for a few weeks.” Nor would Fine.

“Hmm… I approve.” There was no smile on Celestia’s face. “The other thing, which is the one thing you left out. Care to tell me anything?” She waited for Fine to speak; he did not. “What happened to the foal?”

For the first time since entering the room, Fine reacted; he flinched. He worked his lips a bit, thinking on the response he’d prepared for her. “You said nothing about how the foal should be treated in your instructions, so I took my own path.”

Celestia’s stern gaze didn’t falter. “Answer the question directly, Fine.”

Another flinch. “I… sent her away. The foal will be raised in an orphanage far from Canterlot.”

The princess’s eyebrow rose. “And what was the point of that specific decision?”

He recited the answer in his mind yet again, buying time by tapping the knife around his neck. Thank the Goddess for her choice of phrasing! “You wanted Jewel Hoof to be an example. His daughter will be a living one. Her family tragedy won’t remain a secret for long; she will grow up with the knowledge that her parents died because of her, and everypony that cares to will know it. I gave her something special from the royal alchemist to make sure she never forgets what she saw.”

At last, Celestia’s gaze melted. She smiled. Fine had come to learn to never trust the princess’s smile, but he could have sworn this one appeared the most genuine he’d ever seen. “Very good, Fine. You’ve far exceeded my expectations.”

Fine blinked. “You mean… you wanted me to send her away?”

“Oh, no.” Celestia giggled, a sound which sent a shiver down his spine. “I expected you to leave her rotting in the slums, to grow up amongst thieves and murderers and the mentally depraved. This, however, is far better.”

He cocked his head and chewed his lip. “I don’t understand.”

Celestia pressed her hooves together and leaned back, her eyes going to the ceiling in an innocent pose. “Fine, did you really think I neglected to include Amethyst Star from your orders?”

Fine thought on this admission, rubbing his mane back. Realization dawned upon him and his eyes widened. “The foal was the test all along.”

“Very good!” Celestia grinned and nodded. “You spared her, and then you told me what you thought I wanted to hear. You wanted me to think that you were planning things with her misery involved. We both know that’s not really the case, but it also wasn’t a lie. You told me one inevitability of her life, but painted it as your reason for doing it when in reality you just wanted to make sure I didn’t cancel your good intentions.”

He gaped at her, knowing that there could be no denying her claims. “Y-you… Was I so obvious?”

Celestia smirked. “I’ve been playing this game for centuries, Fine Crime; you’re going to have to work harder than that if you want to pull one over on me. You do have talent, though. At any rate, you passed.”

“Passed?” Fine’s mind reeled and he wobbled, although that may have been the lack of sleep. “B-but… I let the foal get away. ‘Let’ nothing, I arranged for her to escape this place!”

“Which is good!” She chuckled and reached over to pat his cheek; Fine was too dumbstruck to be disgusted by the physical contact. “Oh, don’t give me that look. This shows that despite all the horrible things I’m making you do, you’re still trying to be a good pony. You’re resisting, Fine. That’s exactly what I need in a Mane Archon. I’m really looking forward to the final test.”

Fine swallowed the lump in his throat and refused to point out that he was terrified of the prospect. “Has anypony ever told you that you are very scary?”

“Only every Mane Archon who came before you.” Celestia giggled and waved to the door, which opened to her magic. “Now go on, get some rest. Take a day or two off. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to give you the major duties of your title.”

He stumbled away, still trying to take in all that he’d just learned.

“Oh, and Fine?”

He looked back over his shoulder to find Celestia grinning his way.

“Congratulations.”

Author's Notes:

This is almost certainly the worst point of Fine's story, but I can't say it's the worst point Order of Shadows will achieve. I have in mind two possible scenes from the stories of other characters, and depending on how I handle them they could be just as harsh as this chapter is. The good news is that these scenes are few and far in between in what's going to be a story of significant size.

Those of you filled with a morbid curiosity about the past of Amethyst Star in Trixie s. Equestria? Here you go. This isn't the last we'll see of the poor thing, either.

Character Ages:
Fine Crime: 19
Fancy Pants: 19