I opened the door and snuck into the house as quietly as I could. The sun was just over the horizon, casting Canterlot in a glowing haze. The door shut with a gentle click behind me. My hoofsteps thumped dully against the thick wood boards, the subtle smell of oak and pine wafting from the walls as I took a right into the kitchen. In the humble room where the Oak family made and ate their meals, a certain patriarch dressed in golden armor sat at the table; twin trails of ghostly steam rising from the warm cups of coffee before him.

The stallion looked up at me. His eyes bored and tired, still drooping slightly as he took a long draw from his cup. “You know you don’t have to sneak in right?” Iron Oak said, his voice boomed and carried through the small abode, deep and slightly raspy from years of commanding soldiers.

I sighed and slumped down at the table, reaching for the coffee in front of me. “I know, I know.” I said before taking a sip. “Regardless, I’d still err on the side of caution when it comes to accidentally waking the foals up.” I looked around at the freshly built cabinets, filled with the fine Chineigh that had survived both the war and the trip from the Everfree. In the corner, a small wood stove had been installed, now giving off a gentle heat, bringing the room to a cozy temperature.

Iron quickly stomped his hoof solidly against the wooden floor. I jumped at the thunderous crack. Instantly my ears perked up as I cringed and waited for the inevitable sound of crying to come down the hallway.

One....two...three. I counted the seconds until disaster struck, but miraculously, silence continued to reign through the small household.

Iron chuckled as he stared at me with an amused look. “I’m telling you Waxing, those foals could sleep through anything. They only wake up when they want something and that’s it.”

I relaxed in my chair slightly once more, and just hoped my buddy was right about that. While he was confident in the their ability to sleep, he also didn’t have to stick around if he was wrong and could just escape to his duties.

“So how was the night shift, Night Warden?” he mocked, dropping a cube of sugar into his drink.

I rolled my eyes as he used my new title. Celestia had insisted on it since she decreed the Lunar Guard disbanded. Basically I was her confidant, adviser, and liaison to the Nocturne. Most importantly however, I was her friend. Most nights, like last night, I’d simply sort scrolls and reports; write down my viewpoint on certain decisions I felt I had some authority on and chat with her until she eventually fell asleep. Every now and then however, when the stress became too great, or the banishment of Luna would weigh on her too heavily, I’d listen, hugging her and rubbing her back as she cried. Beneath all the power and gold, she was a pony like any other.

“Eh, uneventful honestly.” I flicked my tail and scratched at a phantom itch slightly below my front left knee,

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Only you could say that like it was a bad thing.”

I chuckled softly. “I’m not saying it is. It just leaves me with a lot of time to myself to simply just think.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Careful. You think too hard, and you might hurt yourself.”

I glared back. “Ha. Ha.” He simply waved of my sarcasm with a hoof.

“Seriously though, what do you think about?”

I cracked my neck, working out a kink that had developed. “Well, a lot of things really. ‘Will I be a good father?’ tends to come up a lot. I also do a fair bit of wondering about how the future of the Nocturne herd, since I’m now their de facto leader in Princess Luna’s absence.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “What do you mean? I thought y’all were going to be a secret society of nighttime vigilantes.”

I snorted. “As cool as that sounds, it honestly isn’t ideal.”

Iron put down his cup, giving me a long, hard stare. “Waxing, what are you saying exactly?”

I fidgeted with the cup in my hooves a little. “I’ve just been thinking over something Princess Celestia mentioned to me,” I gestured a hoof towards him. “As you know, she pardoned all members of the Lunar Rebellion and told all of us, that instead of seeking retribution, to forgive and be forgiven.”

I stared down at my coffee while my tail lashed and curled around my haunches. “That didn’t settle well with several of the more outspoken Loyalists and much less so with the families of the fallen.” I rubbed a hoof against my foreleg. “Not that I can’t blame them too much for that. Losing family is hard and sucks, no matter how you shake it. Fortunately, nopony has issued a threat or sought out their own brand of vengeance, but it doesn’t change the fact that the Nocturne may as well be lepers amongst ponies. When we are seen, we get the evil eye at the very least. But being jeered at, dealing with flat out rudeness, or being forced to dodge the occasional thrown object aren’t uncommon. Personally, the worst is when I’m just walking about and a mare breaks down crying at the sight of me.”

“Wax, I think you’ve rambled off a little,” Iron cut in. “What did the princess say that has you thinking so hard over it?”

I regarded him for a second. “I need you to keep in mind that when she said this to me, it had only been a few days after combat had ended, and I think she’s hardly given it a second thought since then.”

“Wax,” his gaze bored into me. “Either spit it out, or keep it under your hat. But you aren’t going to kill me with suspense.”

I took a deep breath and a small sip of my coffee before continuing. “She told me that she was contemplating sending us to form our own settlement elsewhere in Equestria.”

Iron stared at me for a minute, cogs turning in his head as his brow furrowed in confusion. “So, let me make sure I got this straight, you’re going to take the entire herd, lead them to some plot of land, go start your own settlement just for thestrals? Just pick up and leave?”

I shook my head slowly. “Not exactly. I don’t want really want to go that far.” I stole another sip of the bitter drink in front of me, relishing in its ability to stave off the weariness that had been weighing on me. “That said however, I don’t think the idea is entirely flawed either. Clearly, me and my ilk aren’t exactly the most welcome around Canterlot.” I propped my head on a hoof. “It might be good for some of the thestral herd to get away, you know? To be able to start their own lives away from the fallout of the war.” I gestured vaguely to the vast reaches of Equestria. “The ponies out there don’t know all the details of the civil war. They didn’t live it! To them it’s just a story, or a piece of history that happened! And they sure as hell don’t wake up hearing the screams of the dying or the horrible silence of the dead in the middle of night! It could be a fresh start for some!”

He raised a solemn eyebrow. “I'm sorry, a civil war? Is that what we’re calling it?”

I slumped down in my seat. “I suppose. Even though it lasted a week, I certainly don’t no what else to call it” I stared out towards the Everfree, studying the dark treeline. It felt strange that I had lost so many ponies to defend my part of the city, just to abandon it so quickly. It all just felt...like a waste; empty and hollow. “It seemed much longer than that, didn't it?”

Iron nodded his head a few times, staring off in the past. A quiet “yeah” was all I got from him. We had aged in ways our bodies could never show.

After a few moments of silence, Iron came back to the present. “So you were saying something about moving away.”

“Not me. I’m staying here,” I explained. “I’m just saying that if some of the others want to pursue their lives elsewhere, they should. It could be better for them.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t know!” I threw my hooves up exasperated. “Maybe? My hope is that by sending as many families to other parts of Equestria, those that are willing to go at least, that they can raise the foals in an environment where every day the parents aren’t reminded they had to end lifelong friendships at the point of a spear or learn that a pony that they had once called brother had died!” I shouted, voice cracking slightly. “Or they couldn’t pay their damn respects at the funeral because they happened to be on the wrong damn side!”

I slammed my hoof down into the table as tears began to well up in my eyes. My chest seized and my barrel shook as I choked on a series of shuddering breaths. The noise reverberated through the small house and fortunately, Iron continued to be right about the foals being able to sleep through everything. I looked down as something warm and wet soaked my hoof. My coffee was now spilled all across the table and a small gash bleed from where the shattered mug had cut me when I accidently smashed it.

“Wax?” Iron asked as he started wiping up the mess with a rag in one hoof and pulled me into a hug with the other. Tears and snot marred the shining surface of his breastplate. “This is about Bronze Helm’s ceremony yesterday, isn’t it?”

I nodded my head a little and Iron hugged me closer, rubbing my withers. Bronze’s wife had made it exceedingly clear that only Loyalists were allowed to attend. I and Iron had served with him on the eastern front repelling a force of griffon invaders. The stallion had saved my life there. I hadn’t seen some griffon bastard swooping down on me, but Bronze had. He came galloping and full speed, and knocked me to the ground while digging the butt of his spear into the ground where I had been standing. The griffon couldn’t stop fast enough, and fell chest first on the spearhead, sliding three quarters of the way down its shaft.

Finally my breathing came back to normal as the sharpest pain of my grief passed. Iron got up silently, and trotted over to the linen closet. I lifted my bleeding hoof up to my face and sucked at the wound, cleaning it up a little with my tongue. The copper-iron taste of blood played along my tongue and fangs. My eyes reflexively narrowed a slight bit as predatory urges started to rise. My fangs weren’t just for show, and meat wasn’t an unfamiliar meal choice in the Nocturne. Certain the wound was clean enough, I pulled my hoof away. Iron returned and hoofed over a clean rag for me the apply to my wound.

“Thanks.”

He continued to stare at me concerned, but nodded his head. “Will you be okay?”

“Yeah. It’s largely superficial.” I glanced at the slice.

“I wasn’t talking about the bloody hoof Wax.”

My ears flickered. There was no real use in lying.

“...I’m not really okay. I mean I’m not doing poorly either, it’s just sort of…” I sighed. Emotionally, I was exhausted. I wasn’t exactly sure how to explain everything I was feeling inside or all the thoughts in my head. All of it circled back to the big four in my life: the war, the recovery efforts, immortality, and fatherhood.

I stared at the table in front of me. “I don’t know Iron.” I took a deep breath, calming myself down. “There’s a lot to deal with and I don’t know how to sort it all out.”

I watched as he walked to the cabinet and retrieved another cup and refilled it with coffee.

“Well.” He set down the fresh cup in front of me and sat down. “We have the rest of our lives to do that.” He took a long sip from his cup. “And if you want to get some of it off your chest, I’ll be here to listen. And if you want to sit there and ponder over it until you reach some sort of enlightenment that allows you to make sense of it and move on, that’s fine too.” He squinted out the window at the rising sun. “The point is, what’s done is done and we can’t change that. We also can’t change the actions of others, only our own.”

I chuckled emptily. “You make it all sound so simple.”

He gave a small smile. “Sometimes it can be.”

I weighed what he said in my mind before asking, “Do you ever feel guilty?”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Guilty?”

“Yeah. For surviving when others didn’t.”

He stared at me, visibly weighing his words. “No. I guess not.” He stated bluntly. “I know I feel guilty over certain calls. I feel guilty for having to kill some of my friends. But for surviving? No. I got lucky. I had as much a chance as dying as the rest of them, but just managed not to. Somehow.” He stared at me, studying my face. “Since you brought it up though, I’m guessing you do?”

Even though he worded it like a question, it wasn’t much of one. “Yeah, Iron. I do. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think ‘I shouldn’t be here.’ or a passing thought of who I’d trade my life for.” I looked at the wall, as if I could see Breeze through it. “I’d trade places with her mom in a heartbeat.”

“Hmmm.” he murmured, and finished his coffee. “Be careful with that line of thinking. It’ll swallow you up. And don’t go getting any funny ideas about suicide or consorting with some sorta necromancer, thinking you be doing some kind of an honorable deal. The fact is you’re alive and that little filly has a father and that’ll just have to be good enough.”

I snorted. “If you say so.”

“I do say so.” He stood up. “Now I have to get to the Royal Compound, but if you need me to knock some sense into you throughout the day, you know where to find me. Alright?”

I gave a half hearted chuckle. “I’ll be sure to stop by if I do.”

He came over and engulfed me in a hug. “Seriously though brother, you are needed here and I’ll listen to anything you have to say, but just promise me that you’ll let that train of thought go. Guilt will get you nowhere and you should find some sort of closure before that shit eats you up.” Suddenly I felt my lungs expand as he released me. “Also next time you decide to adopt a foal, find your own wife first. I didn’t intend on sharing mine.”

With that he was gone and the muffled crackling of the burning wood from the stove filled the room.

I just sat there, staring at my steaming cup. As much I knew Iron was right. Guilt would do nothing but eat away at me. I didn’t have some sort of savior complex where I thought I could save everypony, but by the same token... I wished I had been able to save more. I sighed and shook my head. Reaching forward, I took a swig of my coffee, before spitting it back into the cup. I don’t know how long I’d been there, but apparently long enough for my drink to get cold.

I stood up and stretched, marveling at how good it felt to hear my spine pop and to feel the built up tension melt away around the surrounding joints. Despite what the recruiters might say, guard duty was hard on the body and if you performed a lifetime of it, you were bound to feel the wear and tear. Knees, hips, back and shoulders were the big ones to go.

Any feelings of guilt left unsettled in my mind, I pushed aside. I put on my ‘dad’ face and strolled deeper into the house. Thoughts such as those had no place around my daugther. I could always brood about them later when I went on duty. I stood outside the wooden door that separated me from Breeze, staring at the waving grain of the wood. Taking one last breath, I pushed it open quietly and peeked in the dimly lit room.

Against the wall furthest away from the window were two cribs and collapsed on a pile of bedding was Sunflower, Iron’s wife. She was an attractive earth pony mare, but judging from the ragged appearance of her dark yellow mane and the bags under her resting eyes, taking care of the two foals was taking a toll on her. I tip-hoofed over to her side. Picking up the edge of a blanket in my mouth, I draped it over her, carefully as not to disturb her precious moments of sleep. A soft smile came to my lips. Sunflower had been my savior and ally when it came to caring for Morning Breeze. She had taken me from a “hapless fool in over his head" and whipped me into shape, teaching me the basics of foal care. She’d also generously taken over wet nurse duties since, well, I wasn’t exactly 'equipped' for such a task.

Turning my attention from the sleeping mother, I found myself at the side of Morning Breeze’s crib. Her soft snores rose up in an adorable fashion as she gently stirred; her tiny wings barely fluttering against her sides, instinct already looking to lift her in the air.

“Hey beautiful,” I whispered to her softly, combing a hoof through her soft, yellow mane. “You didn’t give poor missus Sunflower a hard time last night did you?”

Her continued snores and a small gurgle from her belly were the only response. I snorted and gave a muffled chuckle as I lifted her out of the cradle. I wrapped her in my wings and supported her tiny frame in my left foreleg. Sitting down on my haunches, I rocked her to and fro; slowly as Sunflower had shown me once. She had explained that the gentle, repetitive motion helped to soothe and comfort the young and since little Breeze didn’t hardly stir during the transfer, continuing to sleep soundly in my embrace, Sunflower proved once again to know what she was talking out. Iron Oak was lucky to have her for a wife.

I looked down and nuzzled my daughter’s head, smiling whole time. In that moment, I was somewhere I never imagined I’d be and I couldn’t be happier. Fatherhood held a special, natural magic to it, and it was the greatest and most fulfilling burden I’d ever bare. Breeze weighed so little in my embrace, and yet so much at the same time. Almost as if I could feel the weight of her promise and the many years she’d live, going forth to make her mark on Equestria. My eyes grew moist as I cracked a wry smile. I held part of the future in my hooves, and as far as I was concerned, she was the most important bit, and I’d boast it to anypony that'd listen.

I never had really seen myself as being a father. Family wasn’t exactly something I had, and never saw myself starting. The Guard and Nocturne were as close as it came for me. My parents had died when I was young. My mother passed birthing me, and my father passed a few years thereafter. Depending on who I asked about his death, he had died from a variety of things. Heartbreak, sickness, an imbalance of the humors. I had heard it all. Regardless of what the elders told me, I still remember trotting in the front door after he’d sent me out to fetch some berries by myself. I’d felt so important and proud that my father trusted me to go off by myself. I’d picked a whole basket, minus the ones that didn’t survive my snacking. I burst through that door, ready to show him how good and responsible I was and that for once I wasn’t as useless as he said I was. Instead I found him dangling from the rafters, one rope pinning his wings to his sides, and another wrapped around his neck, his lifeless eyes peering down at me, judging me, one last time. To this day, I still blame the rope that killed him. Heartache and humors be damned.

After that I was raised by the Nocturne village. A few months in one home, and couple in the next. That was just the way it was to help keep the burden from overwhelming any one family. I wasn’t treated badly or anything. For the most part, I had a good foalhood. I just didn’t exactly have anypony I called ‘mom’ or ‘dad’. Breeze suddenly shifted in my wings, turning fitfully, shaking me from my memories.

I quickly resumed the gentle swaying, and, sure enough, she settled back down. A little whine of contentment escaping her. It was official, she was the definition of adorable.

A pang of fear gripped my heart. “Will I be a good father for you?” The question came unbidden to my mind. She stirred and snuggled closer to my chest, settling into the thicker, softer tuft of my coat that covered my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, my fears assuaged for now.

I couldn’t say how long I sat there, but it was long enough for my right hind leg to fall asleep. Carefully rising to unsteady hooves, I walked out of the room, leaving through the kitchen, and out the front door. I stopped in the house’s shadow cast by the morning sun. Far up above us, on the side of the mountain, the foundations of the new capital and palace could be seen being built in the morning sunlight. Celestia, Iron Oak, and I had all agreed that the new capital needed to be somewhere that could be defended easily, and should use the terrain as a means of natural defense while we bolstered the ranks of the guard. We’d lost many of our experienced members and leave it to Celestia to come up with the idea of building an entire fortress off the side of a mountain. Initially, Iron and I had laughed. At least until she lit up her horn and carved a huge swath of solid rock off its face, leaving behind a flat surface to build from and exposing the caverns beneath. That shut us up and I now carried a much greater respect and fear for her, beyond what I already had.

I shielded Breeze’s face from the sun as I walked across the street into my own small home, and shut the door gently. The coffee I had shared with Iron was starting to wear off, and I knew I’d be due for bed pretty soon if I was to be up by mid afternoon. Thankfully, Breeze was still young enough that she mostly slept, and so she ordinarily wasn’t a problem except when she wanted to eat. In which case, it was a quick trip across the street to Sunflower and back.

I walked back to my bedroom and laid her down in the crib next to my bed. She fussed slightly at suddenness being removed from her warm thestral-wing cocoon but quickly settled down when I introduced a soft blanket to her which she snagged instantly and curled up in. I laid down on my bed and just watched her rest.

I wasn’t entirely sure how our schedules would work out as she grew. I was mostly nocturnal whereas she, being a healthy pegasus, would end up being diurnal. Effectively, the only bits of overlap for the two of us the really see each other would be the mornings and evenings. Also the matter of the fact that she seemed to spend more time over at Iron Oak’s household than mine weighed pretty heavily on me. I understood the necessity of it. I didn’t have a wife, much less anyone but Sunflower that was willing and capable of nursing Breeze. The only other mare I had any sort of familiar relationship to was Princess Celestia, but the thought of asking her to nurse my adopted daughter just seemed…

My face contorted as my brain tried to comprehend that particular hypothetical. Not only would it feel inappropriate considering the private and personal nature of nursing a suckling foal, but also question of whether Celestia could even perform such an action. Common sense and biology told me that she was like any other mare and had all the same...parts. I shook my head rapidly, trying not to imagine the princess’ 'undercarriage'.

Despite rationality saying that Celestia, in all likelihood, was capable of nursing, my sense of awe that surrounded the mare prevented me from fully believing that she was like the rest of us mortals. I scrunched up my face as it occurred to me that I wasn’t exactly amongst the rest of pony kind in that regard anymore either.

“What the hell do I even consider myself?” I scratched my head painfully as I tried to describe my current state on the spectrum of mortality before finally giving up.

“The point is, for the sake of argument, even if Celestia could nurse a foal, who’s to say that the simple act of doing so wouldn’t give the foal some strange Alicorn strength, or talent, or something?” I facehoofed. It was a stupid idea.

Abandoning that train of thought, I settled into sheets, determined to get some rest before anymore strange ideas rolled through my head. Rolling to my side, I stared at Breeze dozing one last time before closing my eyes.

“Hey daddy! Are you home!?”

I rustled in my sheets as Breeze’s voice shouted through the house. I swear it felt like I had just finally fallen asleep.

“Daddy?” she called out again.

I sighed as I drug a hoof across my face. Last night had not been kind. Ever since the completion of the castle and the surrounding city, the entire population of what was now being called old Canterlot had made the transition here. With such a large influx of ponies came a lot of paperwork for Celestia. Taxes, census data, petitions, titles and deeds. All of which flowed upwards.

The most irritating part were the complaints. It felt like half my job, currently, was about sifting through and separating out the genuine issues from trivial matters. For instance, some mare wanted the Princess to shift the angle that she raised the sun so that it didn’t disturb her rest in the mornings when it shined through her newly installed stained glass windows. I’m not saying I hate the more monetarily endowed of the population, but they sure seem to have a way of evoking certain emotions.

The room shook as my bedroom door practically exploded off its hinges and a light blue-coated blur of energy came barreling in, tackling me on the bed.

“DADDY!” I felt, more than heard, the small intruder scream into my chest as two tiny forehooves wrapped no more than a quarter of the way around my barrel.

Lazily, I wrapped my hooves around Breeze, giving her a gentle squeeze. I slowly opened my eyes to find her blurry, smiling face staring at me with childlike joy and excitement. I found it impossible to be annoyed or angry at her honest and innocent enthusiasm. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to play it up a little.

“Hey, little one,” I grumbled, trying to sound as worn and tired as possible, which wasn’t that much of a stretch.

She immediately jumped off me and to my right side. I felt her bury her head against my side and try to roll me off the bed and onto my feet. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing at the sight of her struggling as her four little legs strained and shook from the effort, sliding and dragging the sheets every which way behind her.

“Come on! Get up!” she grunted. “Today you promised that we’d go when I got home, and now I’m home! So come on!”

I shot my right wing out from under the covers, sweeping her off her hooves and scooping her into its folds. Successfully wrapping her up, I held the cocoon against my belly, where I could hear her squealing and laughing as her little head pushed itself out at the top where she looked up at me with her big eyes full of joy.

“Oh I promised something, did I?” I teased. “You’ll have to remind me, because I can’t seem to recall anything of the sort.”

Now that was a lie. I knew exactly what she was talking about, and to be honest, I was looking forward to it myself.

She gasped adorably. “You promised that you’d take me flying with you! You promised!”

I stroked my chin in a thoughtful manner as I peered at some abstract point above my head. “Are you sure? I still can’t recall anything like that”

She playfully smacked her hooves on my stomach, or at least as best she could, all things considered. “Yes!”

“Hmmm.” I continued to keep up my charade. “Well if you say so…”

There was an excited intake of air, and I peeked down to see her face light up like she’d just been given the greatest gift in the whole world.

“Well come on, let’s go!” she vibrated vigorously with an energy that only the young seemed to possess.

Smiling, I nuzzled her forehead and kissed it. “Alright honey.”

I unfolded my wing and, in a manner that made me question if she was capable of teleportation, she disappeared out the door.

“Yaaaaaaymydaddyisgoingtotakemeflying!” could be heard at a much greater volume than indoor etiquette strictly allowed as she tore down the stairs to the front door.

I shook my head and rolled out of bed, stretching a few of my more tired limbs. Breeze was at an age where every pegasus, thestral or winged creature, I’d imagine, wanted to experience the open air, but found their wings not quite yet suited to their desires. The first flight was always the most memorable, and the most sacred of memories when it came to flying. The first spike of adrenaline as you leave the ground. The feeling of the wind through your wings. The rush of wind in your ears. The comfortable chill of the breeze through your coat. I couldn’t think of a better gift to give Breeze on her birthday, nor one she’d cherish as much.

I trotted down the stairs, finding her bouncing at the door.

“Lehsgo-lehsgo-lehsgo-lehsgoooo!” she chanted, smile spanning from ear to ear.

“I’m coming,” I laughed softly. “And it’s not like you can leave without me, you know.”

I couldn’t blame her. I’d be excited too. Regardless, that little reminder seemed to get her to calm down a wee bit as we stepped out of the house and onto the cobblestone. Sunflower waved to us from across the street.

I waved back as she returned to tending her garden. So far we were the only two homes on this street, having elected to live close to the face of the exposed mountain side. Many ponies wanted the novelty of living close to the edge so they could stare out over Equestria. As a thestral, I understood the appeal, but Iron Oak’s and Sunflower’s earth pony sensibilities weren’t so keen on it and wanted to stay as far away from the ledge as possible. Having no wings themselves, I could understand that. Plus there was the concern of the foals possibly getting a little too adventurous for their own good. So here we were, no more than a stone's throw away from the palace, in our own little cul de sac.

I locked the door behind us and knelt down next to Breeze.

“Are you ready, birthday filly?”

I received a vigorous series of nods.

“Well then climb on,” I laughed and extended a wing to the ground.

Her small hooves scampered up my side as she settled in, straddling my back. Her forehooves wrapped themselves around my neck as far as they could reach.

“Ready for takeoff?” I asked, shifting my weight and getting a feel for how secure she was. Satisfied she was safe and not going to interfere with the movement of my wings, I stood up.

A soft, near imperceptible whimper greeted my ear.

“Oh,” my ears perked up. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t respond immediately, but after a few seconds I finally heard her whisper, “What if you drop me and I become a pegasus pancake?”

If it weren’t for how sincere she was, I might have started laughing at the sheer cuteness of how she said the phrase ‘pegasus pancake’. Fortunately, I had years of guard experience to help me keep a straight face.

“Honey. Breeze.” I peered at her out of the corner of my eye, “I would never drop you. And even if, by some chance, you slipped off my back, there isn’t a force in Equestria that would stop me from catching you, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied. She didn’t sound any more confident than she had a minute ago, but I felt her heart rate coming down as my words seemed to calm her nerves a bit. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

She grit her teeth and nodded her head. “Okay. I’m ready.”

I tensed my rear legs in anticipation for takeoff. “Here we go!” I shouted and jumped into the air, my wings surging forward and down in strong beats. She squealed and her grip tightened as we rose and picked up speed.

“Doing okay back there?” I shouted over the wind.

She nodded her head into my withers.

I glanced back over my shoulder to find her with her eyes shut tightly and head buried in the base of my mane. I slowed down to a hover and nudged her with my nose.

“It helps if you open your eyes sweetie.”

Slowly but surely, she peeked out around my neck. An audible gasp sprung from her lips as she stared with amazement at the sight of clouds, so close she could touch them, and how small the ponies of Canterlot looked as that filed through the streets below us. A huge grin plastered itself on her face as the earlier vestiges of fear melted away.

Taking that as a cue, I sped up a little threw in some wide banking turns that soon had her laughing and giggling all the while. Her little wings propped themselves open, and she shrieked with joy as the wind caught them, tickling her primaries and down. We looped and glided and banked long into the twilight hours. I don’t know how long we were up there, but the sun was a hairbreadth above the horizon when I decided to take a break. Seeing a good sized cloud, I landed softly.

“So what’d you think?”

“That was the coolest thing ever!” she shouted, her forehooves waving in the air as she stayed perched on my back.

“I’m glad you thought so,” I chuckled and knelt down into the cloud. I tossed my head. “Hop off.”

She cautiously dismounted, unsure of the white fluffy substance beneath her hooves as she gingerly made contact. Discovering it to be solid enough to support her weight, she leapt off, giggling as she kneaded the material beneath her hooves, enjoying the soft but firm feel of it. I sidled up next to her on my knees, tucking her closer to me with my chin.

“Happy birthday, Breeze.” I kissed her on the top of her head as she leaned into me, nuzzling the underside of my neck.

“Thanks daddy! I love you! You’re the best daddy ever!”

I just smiled as a warm feeling spread through my chest. “I love you too, sweetie.”

We snuggled for a little bit while I cooled down and she continued to play with the small wisps of cloud she was able to bat around.

“So, what did you do today in school?” I asked causally. Honestly, school was kind of a glorified daycare for parents, not that I was going to complain. The only curriculum that was truly covered taught basic stuff like reading, writing, simple math, and a bit of history. The teacher just gave the students the essentials for everyday living in Equestria. ‘School’ was an excuse to allow foals to socialize with ponies their age until they discovered their talents and could find apprenticeships.

Instead of her usual excitement, I felt her shrink down into a ball, going from the happiest filly in the world to something less so. “Breeze? Is everything okay?”

“Kinda,” she said demurely.

I raised an eyebrow at that. “‘Kinda’? What do you mean by ‘kinda’?”

“Weell,” she started, sniffling. “Today we had to draw our families, and some of the colts in the class started making fun of my drawing.”

My heart skipped a beat as I found myself wishing I hadn’t asked. My hackles raised as some sort of sixth sense told me where this conversation was heading. Regardless, the subject was open, and there was no shying away from it now. I took a deep breath as my ear flattened against my head. “So why were they making fun of your drawing, sweetie?”

“They....they said you weren’t my daddy, and I wasn’t your f-filly because we don’t look anyt-thing alike!” She started to cry. “That y-you were a b-bat pony and could-dn’t have a pegasus f-filly like me!”

I drew her closer with my wing and nuzzled her gently as she continued.

“A-and then they started a-asking why I didn’t d-draw my mommy and w-where she was!” She wailed. “And I didn’t know!”

“Shuush. It’s okay honey. It’s okay.” I pulled her into my hooves and rocked her gently. Deep inside the ice in my veins grew colder, whereas the raging heat of my anger was starting to rise. “So did the teacher step in or something while all this was happening?” I measured my tone carefully. I needed to be as comforting and supporting as possible right now.

She shook her head as snot dribbled from her nose and matted my coat. “No. She had to go get Lock Heart out of the tree because he was too scared to climb back down. Anvy saw the whole thing though and told them to knock it off, but they didn’t listen.”

As much as I hurt for my little filly right them, I did feel a small surge of pride to hear Iron Anvil, Oak’s son, was on the path to growing up to be a good stallion. And possibly got his father’s streak for protecting the little pony.

“So what happened after that?”

“They said some mean things about you being a –” she cringed down. “A vampony,” she whispered, as if it was the worst possible word she could say. I wasn’t exactly fond of the phrase myself, but the rumors weren't entirely unfounded. “Then Anvy warned them one more time to go away. Instead they shoved him and told him to get lost.”

“How’d that go for them?” I asked, calming down some. At least somepony had my daughter’s back.

She seemed to brighten up a little at that question. “Well, it wasn’t exactly fair since there was three of them, but he hit two of them pretty hard before their friend got a shot in.”

I chuckled softly. Definitely in his father’s hoofsteps. “Sounds like he did well enough, don’t you say?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“So happened next?” I asked.

“Miss Golden Rule pulled them apart. Then after she sent them all off to separate corners to cool off she pulled me aside and told me not to pay attention to what those colts had said and that you are my dad as much as Uncle Oak is Anvy’s dad.”

“She’s right you know,” I said and draped a wing around her.

“So why do we look nothing alike, and where is mommy?” she asked, looking up at me.

I cringed internally. This was not a conversation I wanted to spoil her birthday with. I wouldn’t lie to her though. If the teasing was starting already, then she needed to be prepared with the truth before somepony else used it against her.

“Breeze, listen carefully.” I started. I felt her settle more comfortably and give me her undivided attention, letting her runny nose and tears drip down my chest.

“Family doesn’t include just who you share bloodlines with or who you happen to be related to. It encompasses all those you care about and share the tightest of bonds.” I lifted up a hoof and began wiping away some of her tears with a little piece of cloud. “I once heard it said that ‘friends are the family you choose’, and I believe that’s true. I consider Iron Oak my brother, even though we both came from different parents. You don’t have to share an ancestor to be family.” I nuzzled her dried cheek and kissed her delicately on the nose. “Does that make sense?” I spoke gently.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she said with a tiny smile and another sniffle.

Here came the hard and delicate part. I took a deep breath and flicked my tail. “Well, that's not the only way to expand your family either. Do you know what it means to adopt?”

She narrowed her eyes in confusion, and shook her head.

“Celestia help me,” I pleaded mentally. “I don’t want to do this tonight.”

“It is when a grown-up pony decides to take somepony in, typically when they are a foal, as a son or a daughter. To raise them as they would their own. To love them and care for them. To take a stranger and accept them as blood and kin.”

The shock on her face almost paralyzed me as she started connecting the dots. “I am still your dad, and you-” I squeezed her a little tighter. “-are still my little filly.” I couldn’t stop myself from tearing up. “And nothing can or will ever change that. I will always be there for you, and I will love you always. From the bottom of my soul.” I cupped her chin and looked her in the eyes. “And don’t you ever doubt or forget that, okay?” I kissed her forehead. “I chose you for a daughter, and it was the best decision of my life.”

She smiled through her own tears. “So...I’m adopted.”

I nodded my head. “Yes honey.” Damn those colts for forcing my hoof. “Does that bother you?” I asked cautiously.

She paused and cocked her head thoughtfully. My heart froze in fear. Suddenly she jumped up and gripped my neck tightly, nuzzling it with all the affection she possessed. “No. You’re still my daddy.”

Tears of joy filled my eyes as I pulled her tightly to my chest. “Always Breeze. Always.”

A week had passed since the little revelation on the cloud and Breeze had taken up a strange sort of pride in the fact that she’d been adopted. I wasn’t exactly sure that was how ponies were supposed to feel about that, but as so long as she was happy, looking on the bright side, and still drew pictures of me titled “best dady evr!” with little stars and sparkles, I wasn’t going to stop her. Correct her spelling maybe, but never stop her.

With as much pride and celebration she took in our forged bond, she also took an active interest in asking questions about my family.

“So you were adopted too!?” she shouted across the dinner table. Bits of salad sprayed everywhere, including in my own plate, where I had added some grilled up bits of chicken. While I could enjoy meat, I made sure to keep all things flesh away from my daughter’s plate.

I deadpanned as I began picking out the half chewed bits of lettuce and spinach that had landed on top. “Sort of honey. I was raised collectively by the community. I wasn’t ‘adopted’ in the sense that you are.” Satisfied that my dinner was no longer seasoned with half chewed leaves, I took a bite, savoring the crunchiness of the fresh leaves with the tender, rich flavor of the chicken. Swallowing, I continued. “I didn’t have somepony to really call my parents growing up.”

Her excitement died down. “Oh.” She took a small nibble of her meal, crunching down on a carrot she had picked out. “Sho, ‘id ew evah new er actool perants?”

“Honey. Please don’t talk with your mouth full. Chew it with your mouth closed and swallow, then try again,” I reprimanded. I understood her question, but she needed to learn some manners, and I needed to think about whether I really wanted to discuss my bastard of a father.

She swallowed loudly. “So did you ever know your actual parents?” She asked again.

I mulled over my response a second more. “I never met my mother. She apparently passed on during foal birth and my father...he followed her when I was about your age.”

“Oh.”

I waved her concern away. “It’s okay dear. It’s ancient history.”

She cocked her head and studied me while I continued eating. After a few bites I raised an eyebrow at her. “Is there a problem Breeze?”

“You don’t look ancient.”

I snorted, choking on my food a little. I coughed and took a sip of water. “Um, thanks?”

She giggled at my near non-death experience. That was another discussion for another time. When she was way older and mature enough to not spill my secret to everypony within earshot. I knew there would be a time when I would have to explain to her, and probably Iron Oak's family, why they were getting older while I was not. Fortunately that was much further down the road.

“Well you said it was ancient history and you don’t look that old.”

“It’s an expression sweetie. It just means it happened so long ago that it isn’t really relevant today.”

“Ooohhhh,” she nodded in understanding. She was too adorable sometimes. Also I wondered how long it’d be before I could use that phrase without being metaphorical. Perhaps Celestia could give me a timeline.

I finished my dinner and set out cleaning up the dishes and wiping up her mess from earlier while she continued eating. I was hooves deep in the sudsy water when a thought occurred to me. I still had an hour to spare before I had to be on duty and prepare Celestia's docket for the next day. That could be just enough time to...yes.. that could work. If not, it’d just end up being ‘bring-your-daughter-to-work-day night’.

“Hey Breeze?” I looked at her over the counter.

“Yeah?” Even though she was still staring down at her plate, finishing off the last bites, her ears perked up in my direction.

“You’ve been asking about my parents quite a bit, but would you like to visit your mother?” I offered.

Her head shot up, “YOU KNOW WHERE MY MOTHER IS?” She flung herself from her chair and was immediately at my side asking all sorts of questions so quickly that I didn’t even know if she’d taken a breath.

I berated myself immediately realized that I should have chosen my words more carefully. “Breeze!” I raised my voice to get her attention.

She froze.

“Sweetie,” I lowered myself to the ground. “When I said ‘visit’, it was another expression like I talked about earlier. I’m really asking is if you want me to tell you more about her and come to the castle with me.”

It hurt me to see her spirits deflated so quickly, but she looked up at me and nodded once.

“Alright. It’s settled then. Let me clean up your plate and we’ll be on our way.”

We landed on the grass in the castle courtyard. I’m sure I drew a few looks from the on duty guards, with my daughter riding on my back, but none of them stepped forward to bother us.

Carefully I tread off the grass, not really eager to make the gardener angry at me for leaving hoof divots in the lawn, and onto a gravel path that ran at the base of the wall.

“Here-” I gestured at the wall before us, “-are engraved the names of all the ponies who died in the Lunar Rebellion.”

She stared wide-eyed at the vast stretch of stone bricks, each engraved with the name, rank, and service of a pony who’d fallen. “There’s...there’s so many.” She breathed.

“Aye. There are.” I nodded sadly. I remembered watching the masonry ponies build this stretch of the wall. They handled each brick reverently, as a pallbearer would a casket and at the top of the wall engraved the words “In Remembrance…”. Castle rumor was that they refused payment for their services, saying that to be paid for it would only cheapen what they had built. I'd argue that we couldn't pay them enough. 'Priceless' has many meanings.

I walked along the wall a short ways before stopping in front of a brick I’d visited before.

“Breeze, this is who I wanted you to meet.” I lifted my hoof and gently laid it against a brick inscribed:

Breeze stood up on her hind legs, placing her forelegs on my head as she peered over me.

“Your mother served directly under me as my intelligence officer. She was brilliant, sweetie. She could look at a blank map and tell me everything about the terrain, resources in the area, enemy troops, defensible locations, anything.” I blinked away a few tears. “But while that was what she was good at, her proudest achievement was you. You had been born shortly before the conflict had started. Only a few months old at the time. Carried around a lock of your mane with her everywhere. I caught her several times just rubbing it when we were able to catch a break. More than anything, I think she wanted to be with you in the safe zone and the way she’d look at that small memento of you, anypony could tell that she loved you with all her heart and wanted to be a good mother to you.” I took a few steps back onto the soft grass. I reached up and lifted her off my head, and set her on the ground between my legs, wrapping her in a tight hug as she stared up at the cold brick. “She was a good pony, and I know she would be so proud to see the filly you’ve grown up to be.”

“So,” she took a deep breath. I could tell she was trying to be strong. So much stronger than anypony age had any reason to be. “What happened? Why isn’t she here?” She continued to bore an unwavering hole in the stone brick with her eyes.

Panic rose in my chest. The impact. The wall collapsing. Her eyes. Always her eyes.

My voice was haunted as I told her. “A blast hit our command post. I don’t think it was even intentional. Just one of those things that happened in the chaos. It weakened the structure and it all came down on us. And that was that.” I rubbed her back as soothingly as I could. “I’m sorry Breeze.” I looked down at her as she just sat there.

“Breeze, are you be okay?” I asked as gently as I could. I felt stupid asking her that, but I didn’t know what else to ask her. I had dropped a lot on her.

She released a shuddering sigh. “Yes. I mean...I guess so.” The air was filled with a pregnant pause. I just waited and rubbed her back until she was ready.

“I just…” She knelt down on all fours. Her ears tilted down and her tail tucked itself between her legs as she shrunk down as small as she could get. “I don’t know.” She whimpered pathetically. “I just feel kind of...” Her face scrunched as if she tasted something bad. “Empty?” Her ears laid flat against her head as she rested her head on her hooves.

I laid down next to her pulling her to my chest.

“Does that make me a bad pony?” she asked, cocking her head at me, looking up at me with big eyes.

I opened my mouth to respond, when a large white wing descended over my back causing me to jump.

“Does what make you a bad pony, little one?” Celestia asked, her voice regal, and yet still kind as she knelt down beside us.

Silence reigned as Breeze stared up at the ruler of Equestria, her eyes wide and breathing shallow. Deciding that she might need a little help to snap out of it, I gave her a little nudge with a hoof. She startled a little, but that seemed to snap her out of it. Celestia just sat there, waiting patiently and serene as always.

Breeze opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to work out what she wanted to say. “Am I a bad pony because I don’t feel sad that she is...gone?” She blanched, realizing how that sounded. “I mean, I’m sad she’s gone, but not really sad. Not like really, really sad like I would be if my daddy here--” She shook her head, apparently not willing to finish that thought and huffed. “ I’m just, kind of sad, because she sounds like she was a good pony.” She ducked her head down and balled up as small as she could.

Celestia reached forward with a hoof, and lifted her chin gently, looking down at her with kind, ageless eyes. Her voice was a lullaby. “No. That doesn’t make you a bad pony.” Those few words rolled over Breeze, calming her. “I imagine it would be difficult to miss somepony you never knew and the fact that you feel sad at all shows that you are a good and kindhearted filly.” She smiled down at Breeze with a benevolence that only an immortal goddess can manage. “So no, young Morning Breeze, you are not a bad pony.”

Breeze nodded softly, before a small yawn escaped her. That was her cue that she was falling asleep. I looked to the sky to discover that the stars and moon were now shining brightly. I supposed it was about her bedtime.

“Thank you Princess,” was all I heard from between my legs as she got comfortable.

Celestia hummed thoughtfully, and pulled me closer to her as we looked up at the Remembrance Wall. “Telling a filly she’s adopted isn’t what I’d call a suitable birthday gift, Waxing.”

I questioned whether Celestia was omniscient sometimes. “Some colts in her class her teasing her about only having a thestral for a father in her family drawing,” I explained quietly. “I’m afraid I don’t know of many ways outside the truth to explain why daddy is a thestral and she is a brightly colored pegasus.”

She gave me a squeeze with her wing. “You are doing the best you can Wax. I don’t doubt that you are and will continue to be a good father to her.” She glanced down at Breeze once more. “If the way she’s curled up against you right now is any way to tell, I’d say that regardless of the circumstances surrounding her parentage, she trusts and loves you. Cherish that and hang onto that forever.”

I looked up to see Celestia’s face. Her eyes seemed to stare off into the distance, through time and space. “Celestia?”

She came back to the present and looked down at me.

“You speak like a mother.”

I felt her breath hitch.

“Were you ever?” I asked softly. Celestia and I had grown closer in recent years. Some nights we’d talk until she fell asleep. Talking through fears the other had, hopes and dreams. Other nights she would talk about her past. I’d occasionally ask a question about something and if she didn’t want to revisit a memory, she’d typically respond with a one word answer; her subtle way of closing a conversation point.

She nodded softly. “I was once.”

I settled in against her side, prepared to listen.

Her horn lit up and a ghostly vision of a young unicorn foal nursing danced along the memorial wall in front of us. Judging by how it looked and the personal nature, I was seeing Celestia’s memories through her eyes. I reddened a little at such a private moment, but if she was comfortable enough to share it, I could be mature enough to handle it.

“I had my first and only foal about 600 years ago. His name was Radiant Crest.” The vision switched to another one where he was a few months older, being cradled in Celestia’s forelegs. “He was such a good foal. Hardly cried, good tempered. Loved to snuggle.” She gave a dry smile. “He was just like his father in that regard.”

That kind of took me by surprise, even though it really shouldn’t have. It was just a little strange to imagine her in bed with a lover. The memory changed. This time Radiant Crest was a more than a few years into his colthood. He stood excited in front of his mother, staring at the map cutie mark on his flank.

Celestia grinned from ear to ear. “Here he found his cutie mark. He loved exploring and mapping out the land. Wanted to visit the lands beyond our borders at the time and learn about others.”

New memory again. This time it there were two headstones. Celestia’s voice grew darker and suddenly tired. “A plague came through two summers after that. Killed thousands, and took Wave and Radiant with it. Luna stayed up with me for days as I mourned.”

Daring greatly, I extended a hoof over Celestia’s. “I’m sorry.”

The vision blinked out as her horn dimmed and she smiled down at me. “It’s okay. I miss them, but I don’t regret it. A child’s love is a precious gift and I’m better for having known it.”

I had to agree with that. She leaned down and kissed Breeze’s right ear, causing it to flick reflexively. “Maybe some other day I’ll dare to have another foal. Maybe.”

"I mean, there's always adoption too, right?" I joked lightly and Celestia gave a goodnatured snort.

And there we sat, in the privacy at the foot of the memorial wall, tucked away near the royal gardens under the stars. It occurred to me then and there that one day it’d be me sitting where Celestia was. Reminiscing over Breeze’s foalhood days long after she’d passed on. It scared me and made me cling to her just a little tighter. For this moment though, I'd do what Celestia said and just cherish it.

My ears twitched and swiveled to the sound of steel-shod hoofsteps galloping towards us down the gravel path. Celestia's wing fluttered against my side and her ears pivoted back annoyed at the intrusion.

A single guard approached us, out of breath. "Princess," he panted. "There's been an accident."

Author's Notes:

As always, special thanks goes to stanku for editing and pointing out where I go too far astray.

Finally! Sorry it took so long to get this out here. Between university and travel, I've been busy. Regardless, here it is. Hope to see y'all next chapter!

Update (7 Dec 16): Good grief. I know I've looked over this many times, but I'm still finding mistakes and typos. Seriously, if you see something off, let me know.