Solid Charge sat in front of a desk, the wooden surface hidden underneath a respectable piles of paper, most of which he had no idea if he needed or not. He didn’t particularly care about finding out at that point. He was too busy supporting his head with his hands as he lamented his fate. He was lost. Completely and irrevocably lost.

He sat back straight and brought his clenched fist down on the table, hard enough to cause a small paperslide from the edge of the desk down to the floor. He got up tiredly and knelt back down to pick them up, using the opportunity to try and figure out what some of them were for. Reports, reports, reports… he was weary of the word itself. It corkscrewed into his mind and jumbled the contents inside, making his headache worse with each repeat of the thrice-damned concept.

Reports on every little knack Sharp Chisel had in his home that each inane guard felt the need to write a novel about. Reports on every pony he knew, every client. Reports on every transaction he made in the last six months. Reports on every pony that left Baltimare. Reports on every pony that came to Baltimare. Reports, reports, reports...

He struck the wall next to him, not wanting to have to kneel down before the paper kingdom again, glancing guiltily at the dent on the wall of the office that didn’t belong to him. Was he supposed to read and digest this information? This was impossible. He wasn’t trained for anything like this. He was never meant to do anything like this. His training involved putting on a thick armor and running forward, trampling everything in his path. That was it. He knew how to hit, use a couple of weapons, and some tactics he had picked up through years of service. The focus of his training had been to obey orders, which he, to his great shame, took to easily and enthusiastically. He certainly hadn’t been trained to force his way through a cacophony of writing, searching for hints to a conspiracy he wasn’t sure existed.

He wanted to flip the table and all its infuriating contents, and leave. Head back to Minos and find a simple, unassuming job or even none at all. A small hut somewhere far off from others, maybe near a river where he could fish, living off the land. He sighed and, rubbing the side of his face, pushed the chair back into place to sit back down. What you want to do is not what you need to do. He was given a taste of that lesson when he hid behind a tree trunk and watched a friend get eaten alive. He wanted to avoid that fate himself, the flat teeth of the Catoblepas. So he stayed silent when he needed to speak up.

He’d never forgive himself for that mistake. Especially since he failed to learn from it. Cast Iron was a constant reminder to that. He only wished he heeded that reminder more than he did. He might not be sitting here if he did.

He picked up a paper at random and started working through the jumble of packed words, trying to organize the chaotic piles to some semblance of order. This side containing everything about Sharp Chisel. This area here about Baltimare. This place reserved for other ponies he suspected were in the unknown conspiracy, completely empty so far. He wasn’t sure which ones to put there. He looked out the window, noting the bright day and noticing the tops of trees in the distance swaying gently in the wind. He placed paperweights over everything and got up to open the window, letting the breeze fill the doctor’s office he had taken over.

When he sat back down he placed every pony Sharp Chisel had interacted with for any reason in the suspicion pile. He didn’t have the luxury to assume anyone was innocent until proven guilty. Not with lives on the line. He wanted to, but he could not. He kept reading, just enough to place everything in its proper order, stopping often to re-arrange the stacks. Want over need was what happened with Miss Rarity too. He wanted to get the whole sordid affair over with and get out of there, hopefully with enough bits to not worry about starving for a while. He needed to stop what was happening, but...

His formerly broken arm shook and he clutched it instinctively with his left. Miss Rarity was as rare a gem as her name alluded. He wasn’t surprised when he later learned of her being a bearer of one of the ponies’ vaunted Elements. She had saved far more than their lives, and he didn’t mean that thanks to her they were finally off the streets. She kept talking to them so pleasantly, so fully interested in their well-being, that he had no doubt anymore that she had genuinely forgiven them for their role in—

He bowed his head. Better not to think of that anymore. He didn’t want this job, he didn’t want the responsibility. Who would? It was want however, and want no longer mattered as much as it used to. Want no longer had a say.

He would do what was needed.

What he needed to do right now was focus and do his job. With a heavy hearted grunt he started over. Sharp Chisel wanted to kill Princess Luna. What was his motive? His own work, the statue he carved? Could be. It could be that he was always teetering on the edge. Maybe that was the final push.

Solid Charge went back to the window, looking over Baltimare. He could see all the way to the ruined bay, its waters a glossy shade of diseased green. Sharp Chisel had probably seen the Leviathan’s coming and death as the end of his city. He was an old pony after all, and he probably wouldn’t live long enough to see Baltimare return to how it used to be. In his own mind… it could make sense.

The Leviathan… He shuddered as he thought of that monstrosity, of the rifts it came from. What else existed out there, able to pop in his world at any given moment? He didn’t even acknowledge them in his daily life, their existence too larger than life to contemplate. Who was sane enough to do so? What else could arrive one day? What if the Leviathan of Minos awoke? Other worlds. Other monsters. Other creatures that travel through them, some of them dangerous beyond comprehension. Raegdan himself was one of them. He said so himself to Princess Celestia, Solid Charge was close enough to listen.

“What if I had arrived a few years earlier?” He had asked.

What if indeed? Solid Charge stood up to him the day before, when he was calling for Sharp Chisel’s blood. For all the shouting and promises of pain however, Solid Charge reckoned that he hadn’t been angry. Not truly. He doubted there would be shouts when Raegdan’s rage really hit its peak. People like him… it’s when they are utterly calm that they’re most dangerous. When they’re silent.

He needed to do everything in his power to keep Princess Luna and Raegdan alive, and on their side. He had been forced to leave the ranks of the sane and think scenarios that only the insane would dare dream. If there was anything else like that murderous biped or the rest of the Leviathans out there...

The minotaur supported his arms on the ledge and leaned outwards, breathing in the salty air. He scrapped everything he suspected about Sharp Chisel’s motive. Until Leaf Stream had something to tell him, it was better to keep his mind off it. The reason was not that important. What he wanted to know was whether he had help or if anyone else was involved.

He suspected there was. Why would an earth pony sculptor know about runes? Why did he decide to work on a statue of Princess Luna? Was it commissioned, and if so, by whom? Did someone else push him into believing all that nonsense he had shouted?

He hoped Leaf Stream would finish up soon. He needed to have a starting point before trying to figure his way out of this maze.

“—and the doctors had to cut them off. I didn’t even get a say in the matter, you know. There wasn’t anything else they could do, sure, and I would say heck no anyway, but it stung, ya know?”

“I am deeply sorry for your loss,” Sharp Chisel said sympathetically, looking at the short stumps up close with saddened eyes. “I cannot even imagine the pain involved.”

Leaf Stream shrugged and sat back on her seat across from the elder pony. “It’s not the physical pain that I mind. Can you imagine how it would feel if you couldn’t sculpt anymore? Not lose the ability, but the means.” She eyed his front legs meaningfully.

Sharp Chisel dragged them closer to his torso. “I quite understand your point. What I do not understand is why you would even consider helping the Nightmare after your ordeal.” He scowled with disgust when he said the name. Leaf Stream scowled too, though for a different reason altogether. Did she also sound like such a complete, massive pillock a few weeks back?

“Friends close, enemies closer, you know?” Leaf Stream said, laying with her front half on top of the desk as she tilted her head, completely relaxed and unafraid of the chained sculptor in front of her. She had to show him she was on his side, that she trusted him. What she really wanted to do was knock a few teeth out. She’d never forget that rattle as a metal sphere rolled towards them.

She had been making quite the memories these last few weeks, each one better than the last. A year of this and she might try her hoof at publishing. What would she call the book? “Memoirs I Wrote Down Before I Drank Enough Cider to Kill a Dragon in an Attempt to Forget, Tell My Therapist That Last Cheque was Bad”? Pretty long, yeah, but accurate enough.

“I’m trying to get proof. Something to have to show to ponies, to convince them of the truth.”

“It should be self-evident,” Sharp Chisel said bitterly.

Leaf Stream nodded along to his words. “Should. It’s not. You must know something I don’t. I mean, you haven’t even met her yet here you are, trying to act. You got caught, and there’s jack shit I can do to help you, but you might still be able to help me.” Put you and the rest of your asinine friends behind bars, she added in her mind.

Sharp Chisel looked sideways at the wingless pegasus. “I thought this wasn’t a proper interrogation. You’ll fight against her? You really mean it?”

Leaf Stream forced her stumps to move erratically. “You tell me.” She enjoyed this. Best part? She hadn’t really lied so far, the idiot simply interpreted her words differently than what she meant. Ok, by a stricter definition she was lying her flank off. She loved this interrogation so far. She’d love it more when the charade was done, and she told him in his face what an idiot he was. Maybe she could make him cry.

She needed to look into buying a camera as soon as possible.

The elderly pony stayed silent, thinking. “I started working on a statue…” he said hesitantly.

“The one of Princess Luna, yeah.”

“The Nightmare,” the stallion corrected her sharply. “Always the Nightmare. There’s no ‘Princess Luna’ or anything of the like,” he said, speaking the princess’s name with utter contempt. “It has always been the Nightmare. Never let yourself fall into the trap of thinking of her otherwise,” he warned Leaf Stream with dread, starting to shiver and shake in his seat.

“Alright,” Leaf Stream conceded if only to keep him from preaching. She had enough of that in her life and it had benefited her as much as breaking rocks with her face would—less, actually. She might have led a happier life if she had brain damage. “But this isn’t helping my case at all. I can’t use a statue you made as evidence to convince nopony.”

“It wasn’t made to be,” Sharp Chisel said. “I released the shape out of the stone to make sure myself, to ascertain the truth beyond any doubt. It’s my talent you see, my whole reason of existence.”

“So what, you were able to deduce what she’s really like just by hitting a piece of rock without ever meeting her?” Leaf Stream said, standing up straighter on her simple chair.

“It… might not be as accurate if all I have to work from is a photo, but it was enough. I was completely convinced.”

Leaf Stream tapped the table with her hoof, thinking. “Convinced. What made you start… suspecting, let’s say,” she finished, waving her hoof in circles.

“A mare approached me. She told me of the danger Equestria faces. She told me how many ponies gather together to put a stop to the Nightmare, using our unique talents. She wanted to conscript me to the cause of saving ourselves from a second reign of Nightmare Moon. I refuted her claims at first, but the consequences of being wrong were too great. That’s when I decided to make the statue. I gave her my wholehearted aid at once.”

“Who was she?” Leaf Stream asked. “If I can find her I might be able to help her.” ‘Help’ was a relative term. Help her by locking her in a really deep dungeon so a couple of certain sparkling personalities didn’t tear her limb from limb was a legitimate form of help.

“I was not given a name so the Nightmare could not pull the secrets out of our very minds.” Sharp Chisel leaned as close to Leaf Stream as his chains allowed, a grimace of agonizing warning on his features. Leaf Stream barely kept herself from face-hoofing at the old stallion’s idiocy for buying that line. “Beware of the Nightmare. She will not shy from mucking with your mind as it fits her purpose. Keep away from her as much as you can, and do not let her cast a single spell on you for any reason.”

“Well, that’s a given. No worries, old colt. I’m careful. So, no way to contact her? Seriously?”

Sharp Chisel shook his head. “I was given a place where I could leave messages and receive them in turn. Nothing else. I doubt she or anypony else would approach it again after my failure, but keep vigilant, and she will come to you in time. They are probably wary of stepping too close to the Nightmare’s influence.” The aged stallion suddenly clammed up and retreated, pushing himself away from Leaf Stream.

“What’s wrong?” Leaf Stream asked as gently as she could.

“I- I have said enough. You are too close to the Nightmare. I shouldn’t say more to you. I’m sorry. All I have to say is… if you find a chance to kill her, do so. I tried, and failed. I only hope my renegade actions won’t inhibit the rest of those who, like us, know of her true intentions from saving us from her teeth.”

Leaf Stream walked backwards, smiling sweetly at Sharp Chisel, and being smiled back in return, until she closed the door in front of her face. The moment she was out of the pony’s sight, her smile was replaced by a tired frown.

“Anything?”

For one glorious moment she felt like she had her wings back as she touched the ceiling.

She didn’t scream or yelp in surprise, and Tartarus take anypony who claimed otherwise. She just… choked while breathing out a bit too forcefully. She turned towards the minotaur who she really could have beat the crap out of, she simply wasn’t in the mood right then, and gave him a nice, wholesome, glare of death, just like mom used to make them.

“You dirty mother—”

“Please watch your language. You’re supposed to be a captain of the Lunar Guard now,” Solid Charge warned her.

She pursed her lips, frowning, looking up and down the tall bastard. “Wow. She hasn’t even nailed you, yet you’re still thoroughly whipped by Rarity’s pu—”

Solid Charge coughed warningly: a loud, disgruntled noise. Still, point made. She smiled widely and innocently. Maybe not the last one. She wasn’t sure if she even had the capacity to achieve that anymore. Not since she hit puberty. She started walking, heading away from the door and towards the other end of the floor. The door was thick, and Twilight Sparkle had made sure to enchant the door so they couldn’t be overheard, but that didn’t mean they had to take risks.

She paused and went back for a second to grab the written notes of Sharp Chisel’s interrogation that a Royal guard kept while overhearing the “friendly” chat she had. She passed them to Solid Charge, letting him leaf through them as they walked.

“The old coot is a loon,” she said. “Somepony figured out they could use him and he took their bait hard.”

“He didn’t work alone then.”

She made a half-gesture with her head, not a yes but neither a no. “Kinda. I think the attack here was something he cooked up on his own. He mentioned a mare but refused to go into descriptions, no matter how much I pushed. There are limits to how much he’s willing to trust me. She’s supposedly recruiting ponies around to ‘save’ Equestria.”

“What did they need him for?”

“Beats me what their reason was. He ain’t saying. Look, check the last part, that’s where all the juice is, lacking as it is. He told me everything he believes he can tell me while—”

Solid Charge lifted an eyebrow in surprise of what he read. “He thinks we’re being mind controlled?”

“Loon. I thought we covered that.”

The minotaur closed the binder and put it under his arm. “Still, even I know that mind control is a fairy tale.”

Leaf Stream bit on her lip, wondering how to best break the news about reality to him.

He noticed her shifty expression. “It is, isn’t it?”

She decided to throw him a bone. “It is very, very, very hard.” She let a second go by. “To do properly.”

Solid Charge growled, exasperated. “More complications… Is it possible that Sharp Chisel is under mind control? How hard is it anyway? How many can do it?”

“I’m pretty sure that the only one I’ve ever heard of that could do it with complete success was Discord. Other than that you could get something that resembles what he could do if you’re very powerful or very skilled. Twilight Sparkle for instance could easily learn how to do it. As for how many…” She shrugged. “Who knows? I doubt anypony who knows how to do it right advertises it. Not many at any rate. We get the errant idiot who does one of the stupid versions every now and then. Most of them try to use it to make ponies do work for them. Some others…” She coughed meaningfully. “Well, let’s just say that Princess Celestia isn’t all smiles and sunshine with them.”

“And Sharp Chisel?”

She scowled. “Why bother with mind control in his case? The idiot thinks he can look at a photo of you and make a statue of your inner self. I’ve seen ‘professional’ psychics who claim less.”

She looked around, making sure nopony was around to hear her. Nopony was but she chose to whisper nevertheless, in case anypony had gotten creative. “He might not be saying more to me but… he might say more to a certain someone, if forced to.”

Solid Charge stopped for a second. He shook his head and started walking again. “No.”

“Raegdan might be able to pull something more out of him,” Leaf Stream noted.

“He’ll probably pull a lot out of him. No! We start this crap and we might not be able to stem it. The answer is no and it will stay no.”

“Gotta say though,” Leaf Stream insisted, “that if there’s a point where it could be excused, might be this.”

“I will not even entertain the mere idea,” Solid Charge said, harshly, “until we exhaust every last possible alternate route, and we are absolutely certain Sharp Chisel knows what we need. Got it?”

“Got it. I agree with you, just, you know, wanted to make sure we had all our bases covered. You ask me, I would say heck no, seriously, but you’re the boss now and you’ve gotta be aware of all the options. It’s your call.”

They reached the office that Solid Charge used. Leaf Stream gave him a friendly shove with her shoulder and turned around. “I’ll leave you to your reading. I’m gonna head and see if I can check on our poor widdle Raegdan for a minute,” she cooed, sarcastically. “I’ll be right back.”

“Try not to delay. We have work to do,” Solid Charge reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah, grandpa. I’ll not take candy from strangers either.” She headed for Princess Luna’s room.

Solid Charge walked into his temporary office, opening the binder again, ready to read it start to finish. His plans were derailed when he found Cast Iron waiting for him inside.

Cast Iron spent most of his day in Sharp Chisel’s manor, working with the Royal guards and helping them search through everything they deemed even slightly suspicious. He felt guilty while doing so, for he had an ulterior motive. He would have helped either way of course, it was his job, but this, this was for his love.

He finally got his chance and told the guards that he would take over investigating Sharp Chisel’s workshop. He had a background as a blacksmith and would be easier for him to identify something wrong in there. Thankfully, being part of Princess Luna’s guard was currently, in the here and now, a major advantage. The captain left here in charge agreed at once.

It was true. He didn’t lie. It was all true. He was a blacksmith, and he would probably have an easier time of finding out if anything was out of place. Having other reasons forefront in his mind didn’t make the other reasons any less true.

When he closed the door behind him his face lit up with a smile akin to a child waking up on his birthday that knew there was a bundle of gifts waiting for him at the end of his bed. His eyes travelled slowly over the lines of tools and workbenches, his smile getting wider with sheer joy. He stood in the workshop of a master. Different discipline, that was true, but Cast Iron believed that there was something you could learn about your own craft from everything and everyone.

He started walking slowly around the room, his hand reaching almost reverently for the tools, the works in progress, and the rejected remains of art long completed. He picked up the chisels, one by one, noticing the differences in size, admiring the ones whose edge was curved, with wonder over the skill needed to use them. He spotted the wear on them and the leftover grinding marks of a whetstone, used to bring them back to service. Sharp Chisel had the money and resources to have a new tool delivered to him when an old one showed the tiniest fault, but he didn’t do that. He kept working with them, spending as much time and effort on them as he did for his creations. Cast Iron couldn’t help but respect a craftsman who respected his tools. It showed care and appreciation for the work, the art itself.

A small sculpture of a pony caught mid-jump was waiting for the return of the sculptor on a table, still unfinished. Cast Iron carried a small selection of chisels with him and tried to identify the grooves. He placed the chisels’ ends over the marks, working out backwards how Sharp Chisel used them to carve this piece. The large heavy ones to cut the general shape, slowly grading down to smaller ones. Tiny details carved with the help of one whose end was almost needlelike. A small curved one, used for the eyes, and the ears’ interior.

He spotted a small hammer, almost toylike in size. Carefully, he placed the curved chisel in place and hit it lightly, curving its path even more with a slight movement of his wrist as he cut a tiny sliver of stone, almost paper thin in thickness. He gently blew the dust away and passed his thick finger over his attempt. He examined this one cut for over five minutes, pondering how it worked with the rest, if he should deepen in or cut in another direction. He asked himself how it would change if he had made the carving upwards instead. He placed the chisel in place, but hesitated to strike. He placed both tools down. He wouldn’t experiment on this piece any more than he already had, even if Sharp Chisel never finished it. He had already overstepped a boundary here.

Cast Iron turned to the remnants of past works instead, picking up the stones one by one, doing his best to identify their type and the spot where they had been separated from the main body. He spent some time on this, until he picked up a pebble he could have recognized just by weight and texture.

Copper.

A very small piece. He inspected it carefully. It was a thick drop that had been allowed to cool off on its own. Probably dropped on the floor or some other surface. He made a quick walk around the workshop.

There was no copper to be found. This was strange. There was a small foundry though. This was more his field. It could be used to smelt copper, but what for? Where was the metal first of all?

There was a wide door at one side that he suspected lead to a storeroom. Inside, he found pieces of marble and granite in various sizes. He found coal and wax. He found clay.

He didn’t find any copper. He wondered if Sharp Chisel had used all of it to construct the four bombs he had made. It was the obvious answer. He turned to leave the room—

—And walked back inside. Wax and clay. A lot of wax and clay. He hadn’t seen anything in the manor that would need them so far. Sharp Chisel wasn’t the type who made a small model from wax or clay before he set to making his real piece. He was too good for that, too experienced.

Wax and clay were used for molten metal casting too. Make a wax replica of the item you need, put it in a clay mold and fire it. The wax would melt off, leaving you with the perfect mold to pour the metal in. The process would heat up the clay and remove the water from it though, which was exactly what you wanted when planning to pour molten metal in it. It would destroy the clay though. So you needed enough of it if you wanted to make more castings. Every mold was a one-shot.

There was a huge pile of clay in here. Half of it was missing. It was easy to figure out how much by the empty space between it and the stones stacked up next to it. Way more than you would need to make four metal spheres.

A lot of clay. A lot of wax. No copper and… he found an empty spot in the storeroom. He bent down, inspecting the floor. Rectangular scratches, scratches that he recognized. Metal ingots. Lots of them.

Way more than those needed for a few metal spheres. The runes on the bombs were perfect. He had taken a close look at them, how could he resist? Sharp Chisel was probably the best of the best in his field and he had a great talent for it, but it’s not that what made him the best. The runes didn’t seem like something raw talent was enough. They were the result of practice and experience.

“Oh no…”

He rushed for the discarded remains he had seen in the workshop, digging among them for signs of dried up clay and metal trimmings.

Leaf Stream went on her way, humming a merry tune, silencing herself the instant somepony got in hearing range, choosing to visibly smolder in faked anger instead. It wouldn’t do to have ponies think she was fine. Then they would be all uppity about what reason she could be complaining for later on.

She felt like everypony was out to get her sometimes. She just wanted to have a little fun at everypony else’s expense. Was that wrong? Didn’t she deserve that?

Maybe she really was a jerk after all. Something to consider, another day though. Her brief introspective travels were cut short by something she hadn’t seen in days.

Princess Luna was outside her room.

“Princess.” Solid Charge might be making sure never to address without her title because he felt he had to show respect for her position. Leaf Stream instead made sure not to be amiss on how he addressed her in case she got pummeled for disrespecting her. Though it was a little easier to be respectful enough ever since the ‘princess’ managed to make her way out of a Leviathan’s stomach and not by the end she’d expected.

Princess Luna was positioned next to one of the large glass panels scattered on the floor. She had sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, her head resting on the white border of the window. She was looking through a scratched out portion of the paint, gazing somewhere down below with a soft, content smile on her lips and an unexpected easiness in her eyes. A few thestrals were standing a few meters away from her, constantly scouting up and down the corridors, guarding her. Drum Beat and Night Lilly were standing prominent in front, the rest of their brethren behind them. The princess hadn’t noticed Leaf Stream coming near, though the thestrals obviously did, quieting down when she gave the right signal.

Leaf Stream took the chance to observe Luna quietly for a few moments. Celestia’s feathers, she really wanted to kick that little smile off the princess’s face. She would never forget how, when she lay sprawled on the dirt of the arena, spasming in agony she would never have believed was possible for a pony to feel, that the first thing she saw when she forced one of her eyes open was Princess Luna riding up on her monster’s shoulder, laughing over her and calling her an ass.

Not her specifically. It would be far better if she had, but she hadn’t been worthy of being insulted directly in her eyes. She was nothing more than an insect they stepped on. Leaf Stream examined the princess’s injuries, just like she did every time she saw her. The broken leg, the burnt wing, the torn flesh, and the part where something inside the Leviathan had gotten a bite out of her. It was always soothing to see them. What goes around, comes around. She hoped she really, really hurt when she got partially eaten. She hoped those burns Raegdan got would never heal.

She felt extremely guilty for these thoughts immediately after. She remembered the pain she felt herself all too well. Truth be told, under normal circumstances she wouldn’t want anypony else to end up anywhere like that, not even these two. They had though, and a part of her that she didn’t feel proud of, loved it.

Maybe she really, really was a jerk. The thought wasn’t that funny when she considered it might be the honest truth. She faked a cough.

Princess Luna tore her eyes away from her view, whatever it was she saw out there, and looked at Leaf Stream’s direction, blinking in surprise as if coming out of a daydream.

“Ah,” she intoned softly. “My captain. How does your investigation fare?”

“It is still... ongoing, Princess,” Leaf Stream answered. “I finished asking Sharp Chisel a few questions only minutes ago actually.”

“Hmm,” the princess said, turning back to her view as if she had lost interest. “Do we know if he worked alone?”

Leaf Stream answered hesitantly. “We believe the strike here was his own plan, but we have reason to believe he had been already part of something bigger.”

Princess Luna nodded, smiling, though probably not at what Leaf Stream said if she was any judge. “How much bigger?” She asked, still looking outside, shifting her head higher to get a better view.

“Still unknown, Princess,” Leaf Stream answered respectfully, but kind of creeped out by the Alicorn’s behavior. “We’ll get there. So, uh… did Raegdan get to read my get-well card?”

“I assume the one where you also apologized for kicking his genitals with such force?”

“Uh, yeah, that one. Did he say anything?”

“Yes. He said you’d better be sorry. He was urinating blood for two days—was that laughter?” Princess Luna asked, tearing her eyes away from her view to glare at Leaf Stream.

Leaf Stream did her best to control her treasonous lips, swallowing the giggles back down. “No, just—choked a bit,” she said, which was true. It was either choke on her own spit or go into full blown, manic laughter.

The Alicorn turned back to her gazing.

“Should you be out here?” Leaf Stream asked immediately. “I thought you weren’t ready to walk yet.”

“I’ve spent more time making splints for broken limbs than you have been alive. I desired to move a little, and a little walking won’t make my wounds any worse. It is pain, nothing more. It is preferable than lying on a bed for weeks. I had began to feel like a corpse.”

“So, is Raegdan any better at least?” she asked awkwardly after a few seconds.

“No. The concussion will take time to heal,” Princess Luna said. “He needs to rest, avoiding work of any kind for a few days. It is why I left him alone for a spell. Hopefully he’ll get bored enough laying on the bed on his own to go to sleep. The memory lapses have gone away, so that’s a blessing.”

“Right, right,” Leaf Stream said absently, regretting what she heard. She meant that piece of paper as an icebreaker, an attempt to breach the real issue she wanted to talk about, but as always, her timing sucked. Some help wouldn’t be amiss either. They were doing well so far when it was clear what they had to do. Talk to the guy, look over his place, ask questions… she feared however that when the time came for the real work to begin they wouldn’t be able to find their own flank.

“He has taken a liking to you.” Leaf Stream stood a little straighter, caught by complete surprise at what she just heard. Princess Luna turned to look her in the eye for a brief moment. “But he explicitly said that you shouldn’t expect an apology for your wings.”

… Right. Leaf Stream didn’t really expect one anyway. Why should she, anyway? She didn’t need one either way.

The Alicorn’s eyes stopped looking into hers. “He has mentioned however that he’ll make sure you don’t lose any more limbs if he can help it.”

Leaf Stream blinked. Now, what the Tartarus did that mean?

Solid Charge was suddenly upon them, putting a stop to her introspective, dragging a reluctant Cast Iron behind him. “We have a problem,” he announced.

“Totally,” Leaf Stream agreed, her mind still on personal matters. “Wait, what? What now?” Princess Luna huffed in dismay of being interrupted from her birdwatching or whatever that was she kept doing.

“The bombs weren’t a one time thing. This was exactly what the mystery mare recruited Sharp Chisel for. To make more of them for her,” Solid Charge said, a grimace of misery on his face. His nostrils had widened and pulsed as he breathed in and out loudly, filled with worry and anxiety.

“Really?” Leaf Stream said, her good mood unabated by the news. “Good thing we stopped him then. Talk about being lucky.”

Her newly appointed commander had to bring her mood crashing down of course. “We didn’t. He mentioned a drop-off point, didn’t he?”

“Oh. Right.” She withered slightly under Princess Luna’s and Solid Charge’s critical stare. “Doesn’t mean he—”

Solid Charge pulled Cast Iron next to him. “Cast searched his workshop. There was copper stored there recently, but he didn’t find a single scrap of it. Why do you think that is?” he asked.

Princess Luna cut through the growing panic speaking calmly, her facade—had to be, this was bad—steadying them. “How many did the sculptor make, Cast Iron?”

“I- I can’t know. I searched for receipts, but I couldn’t find where he bought the copper shipment from. I think he got it off the books. I don’t know how much he had,” Cast Iron said, keeping his eyes down to the floor.

“Best and worst case scenario then. Guess to the best of your abilities,” the Alicorn said, channeling some of her sister’s soothing demeanor.

“If- if we assume it was only the few ingots I found marks from… I would say ten or twelve.” Leaf Stream felt her coat pricking up. Four of those things down… did that mean there were six more at least around?

“But that wouldn’t make much sense now, would it?” Cast Iron said, mostly talking to himself now, overtaken by the logistics of blacksmithing. “Most of the scratches on the floor of the storeroom were a little old. The bomb he tried to use on Miss Twilight had recently carved runes. The carving was still fresh, I could tell,” he half said, half murmured, rubbing the side of his face absently, leaning one hand on the wall.

“I would wager that the one he tried to use here was carved on the same day or within a couple of days,” Cast Iron continued. “Take into account the time needed to prepare the copper sphere and the rune complexity, combined with the number he had with him… I think he’d be able to make one per day at best, amazingly fast really. The floor was granite and it hadn’t stained, so the metal couldn’t have been sitting there for long. I think… he could have made as many as thirty, forty at worst.” He finished off with a proud smile that stayed on his lips for only a couple of seconds until he figured out that this wasn’t good news at all, despite his great attempt at deduction.

“Forty…” Solid Charge said in a daze. He reached out for the wall and let his weight rest on it.

Leaf Stream let gravity take over. Her flank landed on the cold floor with a plop.

Luna simply hummed pleasantly in thought.

“We have to do something about this!” Solid Charge spoke loudly and grimly, rubbing his forehead with the palms of his large, burly hands.

“We have no clue who they are!” Leaf Stream reminded him in a growing panic.

“We have to do something,” Solid Charge insisted, breathing out forcefully through his nose, like a bull ready to attack.

“I disagree,” Princess Luna announced, getting everypony’s attention back to her. “There is only one action available to us. We shall stop and waste no more time on this.”

Leaf Stream rubbed her ears. Right one first, then the left one. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” she asked, pleasantly. The two minotaurs simply stared with mouths open.

“Forty bombs!” Solid Charge repeated loudly, still not willing to believe what Princess Luna just uttered. “We can’t let this—”

“Forty metal spheres, the width of a few centimeters, with no magical trace until activated,” Princess Luna said, still in a voice that approached a monotone. “They could be buried under a flower-bed right next to my tower until they were needed, and we would never know. How are you going to locate them, my commander?” she asked, not expecting an answer.

Solid Charge tried to give one, Celestia bless the little soldier’s soul. Leaf Stream saw him struggling to come up with something, anything. She could almost hear his brain whine and squeal as it tried its best, and came up short.

“They are going to use them to kill you,” he said, lamely.

“I doubt it,” the Alicorn said, fluttering her wings in a quick movement and triggering a short spasm of pain in Leaf Stream’s heart. “They are of minimal use as a weapon against me. I can potentially evade them by flying or teleporting, as well as nopony knows yet how vulnerable I truly am at the moment. Any attack using them would involve them using all or most of them to make sure,” she told them. “If they have gone into that much trouble, why not go a step further? They are not the real threat, but they will likely be used in a trap. Bait me somewhere the environment can be controlled, and use the bombs as part of the attack. Though I believe these bombs are not truly meant for me, at least not entirely.”

“Raegdan,” Solid Charge said, understanding immediately. “You don’t go anywhere without him, and he can’t avoid them or shield himself like you could.”

“Indeed,” Princess Luna said, nodding. “As well as any of you, now that you are part of my guard,” she added, making their eyes widen when they realized they were also included in the deal now. “If it was me planning this, I’d use them as the first stage of the attack stage. It would either kill me or leave me undefended and unsupported, laying the groundwork for the following attacks to come one after another in rapid succession until the objective is complete.”

“We are so dead,” Leaf Stream whispered.

Princess Luna paid her no attention. “We do have one advantage. Raegdan survived a point blank explosion, but nopony outside of us know that he was wounded by it.”

“What about the doctors?” Cast Iron pointed out.

“Neither he nor I notified them despite Twilight Sparkle’s insistence. Weakness should not be advertised,” the princess answered. “As far as the plotters should know, their precious weapon did not even manage to scratch him. Everypony saw him walking back here unaided.”

“They will doubt their weapon’s effectiveness and that of their plan,” Solid Charge said, thoughtfully.

“And they shall hesitate,” the night princess continued. “As long as they value their skin intact, nopony will enact a plan that would not kill both me and Raegdan with certainty. Raegdan will take measures when we go back to Canterlot to make sure everypony understands that he will be quite bitter if he were to suddenly find himself unemployed. We will reinforce the idea that my death could be confirming their own deaths in turn.”

“So… what do we do then?” Solid Charge asked, seeking guidance.

“You will give the reporters what they have been hungering for. You will give an official statement telling them exactly what happened, everything they wish to know, holding nothing back, with a small exception. You will tell them how one of the bombs exploded right on top of Raegdan, but you will have them believe it didn’t affect him at all. You will also point out that we’re stopping any further exploration into this case, turning everything, including Sharp Chisel, to the local Royal Guard as we do not believe it is worth our time.”

“But in reality we will…” Solid Charge prompted, hoping for something more.

Luna shrugged. “Ignore it. It is all we can do for now,” she repeated, making her Lunar Commander deflate. “They shall either try to kill me at one point or not. We can’t afford to stay holed up in fear. We will wait for another chance and keep our eyes open, buying as much time as we can.” She sighed, suddenly tired. “I’m heading back to my room. I’ll leave you to your work.”

She took one last look through the painted glass, sighing once more, and turned to leave. Leaf Stream, Solid Charge and Cast Iron watched her go, limping as she kept her broken leg aloft, and muscles trembling as she fought to bring the back leg that was closest to the bite forward to complete another step.

Broken Gust watched the throng of ponies surrounding Princess Celestia as the large Alicorn was bending down to accommodate the little filly she was talking to. The Sun Princess’s very own guards were standing at the ready, but she tried to keep an eye out herself, even from this distance. It gave her something to do, seeing as almost nopony tried to enter the hospital, too absorbed by their ruler’s presence to remember why they came here in the first place. When their medical need or pain finally overcame their curiosity and admiration, it was an easy task to perform a quick search on them, seeing how they barely dribbled in.

Hearing a bomb went off at a hospital tended to make ponies seek treatment elsewhere, even if they had to go to busier ones.

The blue maned thestral had heard about how Princess Celestia kept court back at Canterlot, listening to the poorest pony with the same attention she reserved for the greatest and richest. It must have become quite the habit for her, Broken Gust reasoned. That’s probably why she spent some time each day out here, in front of the hospital, speaking to ponies.

She turned to her fellow Lunar guard. Her heart skipped a beat with joy as she thought about that. Lunar guard. She was a Lunar guard. She was chosen to serve Princess Luna, just like their ancestors had been, so long ago. Even if she ended up dead in a week, it was an honor like no other. Let her fall, she thought, as long as she did so fighting to protect ponies, even if nopony ever knew how she died or why. She would die in defense of others, and that what’s important. Princess Luna would remember her when all others forgot.

Cradle Song was gently patting at his blackened eye. She hissed at him to lower his hoof and stand up straight.

“Sorry, sorry,” Cradle Song apologized, letting out a slight whimper as he tried to open his eye as much as he could. “It hurts.”

“Then you shouldn’t have lied about your name,” Broken Gust hissed back in reply.

The thestral stallion tightened his jaw. “You all did the same. Socking me for that wasn’t right.”

“You’re the one who started it. And thanks to you, we looked like idiots in front of Princess Luna!” Admittedly, ganging up on him, holding him, and blackening his eye was a bit too much. They shouldn’t have followed Cradle Song’s lead, but after what happened at that rich guy’s manor, and realizing they had been of as much use as a belt is the average pony, they needed to blow off some steam. Poor Cradle Song had become an acceptable target.

She’d make it up to him somehow later on.

“Would it kill you to act like a proper guard?” Broken Gust asked, exasperated.

“I am acting like a proper guard,” he answered with a huff, poking the bruised flesh around his eye once more. “The princess is fine, and there’s no way that anypony wanting to try anything is going to go through the front door.”

“We are here as a message,” she said, hissing again. She liked Cradle Song, everypony did, but he had about turned her into sounding like a deflating balloon all day long. If this kept on for too much longer she might be tempted to grab that little red beard he was so proud of and remove it, hair by single hair. “That the Lunar Guard is—”

“Guarding their princess, yada, yada, doo.” He flinched back with a grunt when he pressed his hard hoof too hard against his injury. “The only one I see that we should be worrying about is that photographer.”

Broken Gust’s head whipped around fervently, trying to spot the pony Cradle Song mentioned. “Who? Where? I don’t see anypony.”

Cradle Song motioned lightly with his head towards Princess Celestia. “She’s hiding behind the crowd,” he said, not even looking at the direction he pointed. “She pretends to take pictures of the princess, but you can see how she keeps looking up and around. If there weren’t so many ponies around she’d be trying to fly up there by now.”

“I don’t—”

“White mane, blue coat, pegasus mare. Probably just wants a picture of Princess Luna.”

She got a glimpse of the pony he described, if only for a second, through a brief opening in the crowd. Her head was pointed at the Sun Princess direction, but she thought her pupils were staring up to the last floor, although that might have been her imagination, spurred by what Cradle Song said. She didn’t have enough time, and the mare was too far. Cradle Song sounded sure enough however, and she would trust him on that point.

“Well, she ain’t getting inside then,” Broken Gust said, decisively. “Can you keep an eye on her?”

“It’s all I can spare,” he smirked back.

The Lunar Guard Commander—Broken Gust still couldn’t believe Princess Luna chose a minotaur—and the only other guard who currently held a rank walked through the open glass doors, standing beside them.

Captain Leaf Stream watched Princess Celestia for a second before taking a few steps forward, gazing up at the building, and huffing loudly. She then addressed the two of them.

“Anything going on? Did anypony try to come through riding a dragon and throwing spells around?”

“No,” Cradle Song replied before she had a chance to. “But there was a dragon riding a unicorn. Does that count?”

The captain pursed her lips in distaste, though Broken Gust managed to catch a moment of her lips twitching. “No, she doesn’t. So you’re the smartass of the bunch, right?” She approached Cradle Song, glaring at him. “You know, these eyes don’t really match. I’m a big proponent of harmony vibes, did you know that? You’re kinda wrecking my Mane Shui. We should even these out—”

“That’s for furniture,” Commander Solid Charge said, breaking off the captain’s rant.

“Well, what’s a good excuse for blackening his other eye then?”

“None.”

“You have no clue of how to have fun, do you, big guy?” Captain Leaf Stream wondered, smirking at him vindictively. “Must come with age.” She turned to Cradle Song instead of waiting for an answer. “Sorry about that. It was a joke, I’m kind of in a mood right now, and oh my Celestia I still want to punch you for that name crap you pulled on me!” She closed her eyes and took a big calming breath before shining a huge, nerve wrecking smile on them. “So, anything happen?”

“Not really, captain. All we have spotted so far is a photographer acting weird,” Broken Gust answered quickly before Cradle Song had the chance to say anything and get himself in a real hot spot.

“Weird?”

“Probably sticks around so she can attempt to take a picture of Princess Luna, captain. Not much else going on today.”

Broken Gust glanced at the commander at her side as he forcibly exhaled in amusement. Captain Leaf Stream plastered another fake smile over her face. “Picture. Yeah, don’t let him. It will probably bite us in the flank, like the other one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cradle Song asked, slouching in his position.

The captain looked at him, frowning. Cradle Song clearly wasn’t making a good impression, and the idiot either didn’t realize or didn’t care. “Remember that stupid statue we had you smash the rest of the way down? The idiot we caught yesterday took a picture of Princess Luna and made that thing out of it. One photo, tons of trouble.”

“A photo of Princess Luna?” Broken Gust said, showing off how impressed she was with a long whistle. “Lucky guy.”

Commander Solid Charge looked down at her, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s one of those memorabilia collecting fans,” Cradle Song answered absently.

Broken Gust’s eyes widened in shock, and she felt her dark grey coat taking a crimson hue at her cheeks. “Shut up,” she hissed in a whisper.

“She has been flying daily to the closest village or city to get her hooves on newspapers and magazines for months now,” Cradle Song continued unabashed, explaining without malice, even though that wouldn’t excuse him from what Broken Gust planned to put him through for mouthing off like that.

“What, just to get more pictures of Princess Luna?” the captain asked her directly.

“Or any at all,” Broken Gust confessed. She pointed at Princess Celestia, who was still talking to ponies some distance away. “It’s not like Princess Celestia who has had thousands of pictures taken of her. All I’ve found so far are a few pictures from the first day of Princess Luna’s return, and now she doesn’t look anything like she did then.”

The commander addressed their captain. “You said he had a picture, right?”

“He did!”

“Well, where did he get it?”

Captain Leaf Stream scratched her disheveled brown mane in thought. “Our mystery mare?”

The minotaur’s chest rumbled. “She gave him a photo that pictured Princess Luna as she is now. A photo that’s not easy to find. I’ve never seen a recent photo of Princess Luna in any newspaper either.”

“Perhaps it’s a photo that she or somepony else took themselves in secret?” Captain Leaf Stream asked nopony in particular.

“A photo that I really want to see right now,” commander Solid Charge finished. “You two, find someone to replace you, and come find us at Sharp Chisel’s place.”

“There’s nothing here,” captain Leaf Stream screamed in frustration, throwing a chair at a wall.

“Calm down, keep searching, and stop breaking the furniture,” the commander advised, struggling for calm against his own frustration. “We will find it.”

“Are you absolutely sure it’s not lost somewhere in that paper mountain you told me about?” the captain asked, breathing hard. Broken Gust bent her head and kept going through the motions, searching through drawers they had searched through more than once already.

They kept returning to what they believed to be the rooms Sharp Chisel used the most out of the whole manor. It made Broken Gust bristle with indignation how some ponies lived like this, in houses with twenty rooms for a single pony while she and her people had to cluster up in their tiny wagons. They were homely, full of personality, and rich in their own history, but there was no way to get some privacy for… reasons in there. They had to stumble out in the woods and hope nopony else caught them in the act. More often than not, that “nopony” included things with fangs.

The room they were currently in was the bedroom, and she eyed the huge bed with jealousy. One pony, one single pony slept on that. Her own bedroom wasn’t as big as that bed, and she had to share.

“I would have seen it, I’m sure. Maybe you should go back and ask him instead of acting moody,” commander Solid Charge said, getting a little upset himself by that point.

The captain barked out a single laugh. “That guy won’t tell me what time is it anymore. He’s scared witless that I’ll get his secrets sucked out of my brain. Look, maybe he burned it,” she suggested.

“It’s a possibility,” the commander admitted, “but one I doubt. He probably didn’t have anyone else to talk to about what he was doing. He needed to remind himself he was right, that’s why he kept the statue around. If that’s true, he might have kept the photo too.”

“Well, I found crap so far,” captain Leaf Stream complained, exasperated. She kicked one of the cabinets, making one of the frames on it fall down, the glass cracking loudly. “There’s nothing here. Not even a dirty picture, much less a photo of Princess Luna. Maybe we should have brought Rainbow Dash along. She has a gift for finding a certain kind of item,” she said sarcastically.

Broken Gust looked at the fallen photo frame, thinking. The memories of her home, her previous line of thinking, and the current exchange brought something else to her mind. She had been travelling back and forth to cities often, that was an undisputed fact, and almost every thestral knew why, thanks to certain tactless ponies. What they didn’t know, because she would never tell anypony, was that sometimes she also bought an extra magazine or two.

She was a growing mare, she had needs, and when puberty hits you hard while you spend all your time watching and practising alongside lean, muscular stallions and mares, you need some release lest you do something you shouldn’t in such a close-knit community. Everypony did it, she was -almost- sure, it just so happened that she had many opportunities to get some visual aids.

She couldn’t keep them of course. Space and privacy were an issue that forbid her from keeping her Playmare issues. But, and that was a big but, there were certain photos that were simply too… delectable and too much of a favorite to throw away. So she kept them. Not many. Very, very few that she only now realized, biting her lip almost hard enough to bleed, had forgotten to take out of her hiding place before leaving her home behind. Somepony was bound to get a surprise sometime in the future. She wondered if they would know it was her or if one of her sisters would get saddled with the blame.

Broken Gust picked up the fallen frame and took out the picture. Nothing here. They had lots of frames and paintings back home too. Small ones mostly. She took another photo out of the frame, looking behind it. Neither of her parents had ever thought of checking to see if she had hidden extra photos behind the ones showing -at least, she hoped they didn’t. She took down another frame, took the photo out, and-

“Got it! I found it, commander, captain, I found the photo!” she yelled, excited.

“Let me see,” captain Leaf Stream yelled, scrambling to her side. She examined the picture for a couple of seconds before deflating in disappointment. “Well, that tells us crap.”

The commander gently took the photo in his hands, examining it himself. “No. Not yet. It’s obviously a personal photo. Princess Luna must know who took it. We will show it to her when we get back.” He smiled at Broken Gust. “Good job.” He gave the photo back to her to carry.

Broken Gust looked at the photo again, hoping she could keep it for herself. It was the best picture she would ever be able to find of Princess Luna, she knew, unless she managed to somehow entice the princess into letting her take another photo. Maybe if she did a good job she would be allowed to take a picture next to her. She examined the photo, the fanfilly in her screaming with joy.

Princess Luna was on a balcony, the night sky filled with brilliant stars behind her, merging with her flowing mane. She sat on a pillow and smiled softly at the camera, posing for the photo, almost blushing.

She looked incredibly sweet and innocent.

Night Lilly waited in the kitchen next to a small food trolley, trying to stand rock still as the terrifying mare in front of her whirled around her domain, knives, forks, and spoons flying around her in a dazzling display of magical skill. It didn’t take too long for somepony watching Twilight Velvet to understand where her daughter got the magical talent from.

“Dear, could you please take these trays off the counter?” Twilight Velvet asked, pleasantly. “Be careful, the soup is really hot.”

The white maned thestral didn’t let herself be fooled by the motherly tone or the playful smile. She loaded the trays of still steaming plates on the trolley, almost sweating with the intense effort of not fumbling and dropping the precious cargo. She let out a subconscious breath of relief when she was done.

A knife floated next to her head, the edge glinting malevolently in Night Lilly’s eyes. A gentle voice, filled with dark undertones -she would not be convinced otherwise-, spoke behind her, almost directly into her ear, too close and too personal for her liking. Twilight Velvet had creeped like an assassin behind her, almost killing her with a heart attack right there and then.

“You forgot the butter knives, dear. Oh, take this jar of strawberry jam along with some toast, and leave it there. They might want a light snack later on.” The knife moved away from her, and rested on the tray, along with a small glass container filled with a red, gooey concoction. Night Lilly could not help but imagine disturbing scenarios involving the terrible mare’s personal pantry, with an array of more sinister jars.

She got hold of the trolley handles with her wings and started pushing it, when the mare hit her with a hoof near her own cutie mark, a circle filled with a star-like web pattern and white feathers trailing beneath it. Night Lilly froze for an instant, but she forced herself to keep moving lest she reveal weakness.

“Run along now, dear,” Twilight Velvet said, turning her attention back to her cooking. “The princess must be getting hungry. It’s feeding time.” Night Lilly’s attention was overtaken by the last two words, hitting her brain like lightning.

The light sting on her flank seared across her mind as she made her way along the corridors, heading for Princess Luna’s room. She knew what that seemingly playful tap really meant. The mare had marked her, and tonight she was going to come for her. Feeding time. She had practically confessed.

She made the decision to crawl into Broken Gust’s bed tonight, probably holding a stout club. Her friend tended to get a little too touchy-feely when asleep, but she would gladly take molestation over opening her eyes to see the—superficially innocent—dual-colored maned mare grinning over her.

That freaky mare had cowed the Night Princess. Night Lilly didn’t know how she had managed that, nopony she had dared to talk to did, but she had no intention of personally finding out if she could help it. Thestrals knew one thing very well, and that was self-preservation. They knew they couldn’t attack or kill Twilight Velvet, but nopony had confirmed to them so far if Twilight Velvet had to follow the same rule.

She gave the guards, who were looking at her with obvious envy—oh if they knew what she had to endure—, a quick greeting containing one of the passwords, and motioned for them to open the door so she could roll the trolley through. A blunt wave of acoustic assault hit them the instant the door opened.

“—eak to me with respect!” Princess Luna shouted. Night Lilly panicked. She didn’t know what was happening, she didn’t know if she should stay out or go inside, but she did know that she couldn’t leave the door open and let everypony hear the princess yell.

Her fear over Twilight Velvet learning she served dinner cold won over her trepidations. She almost charged inside, dragging the small cart behind her, and rushed to close the door. She turned around, ready to face retribution for this kind of entrance.

Nopony even noticed her, apart from the strange biped that guarded the princess. The bandaged figure glanced at her for a moment before burying his covered face back into his palms, sitting on the edge of a bed and taking no part in what happened.

The minotaur who had been introduced as their commander was standing in front of Princess Luna’s bed, holding a piece of paper accusingly, looking very, very angry. She barely had time to notice three ponies behind him, their sole captain and two of her fellow thestrals, when the minotaur started bellowing in turn.

“If you tell us who could have taken this photo we could end this, but you refuse to—”

“Exactly!” the princess shouted, her features full of anger. “I refuse! This is my decision and you will abide by it. You will drop this, Solid Charge. There’s nothing to be gained by this line of enquiry.”

“They have all those runic bombs and—”

“What part of this simple order did you not understand?” Princess Luna shrieked. “This matter is closed. It’s over! That’s an order. Do you understand now? Is it simple enough?”

The minotaur took a step back. His lips twisted for a few seconds before he gained a look of utter calm. “Understood, princess.” He let the paper he held fall to the floor. “The matter is dropped. Permission to be excused?”

“You have it,” Princess Luna said, becoming calm herself with visible effort.

The minotaur sidestepped around Night Lilly, the other three following behind him. Before he had time to grasp the handle, the princess spoke again.

“Solid Charge. You will do as I have ordered. You’ve done a good job so far, but you need to learn that I have reasons for my actions I cannot share with you, not always. I still expect you to follow my orders nonetheless. Is this clear?” she spoke calmly, so unlike she did only moments before, from her position, laid upon on the bed.

The minotaur looked back, glancing at Raegdan. “Secrets… We are on your side, princess,” Solid Charge said, disappointed.

“I know,” the dark Alicorn said, austere. “ Take a couple of days off, have some fun of your own. You’ve earned it. We will be leaving Baltimare soon anyway.”

“Thank you, princess,” the minotaur said, still bitter, and left with the captain and the other two guards. Cradle Song exchanged a look with her, communicating all too clear his awkwardness at what he just witnessed.

The door closed, and Night Lilly was left alone with the irate princess and her… bodyguard, she guessed. The princess homed in on her almost instantly.

“And you are here for…” she asked, borderline hostile.

Night Lilly swallowed, wishing she had a glass of water available. “I- I brought your dinner, your highness. Twilight Velvet told me to bring it to you.”

“Ah,” Princess Luna intoned, softening in response. “Thank you. Night Lilly, wasn’t it? Could you serve it please?”

The change of attitude heartened her, erasing her fear she might get an earful due to another’s actions. “Certainly, princess.” She served her princess first, putting the dishes on a deployable tray that could stand on the bed, making it easier for her to eat.

She then moved the trolley towards the biped, thinking it might be easier for him to eat straight off it, being of a perfect height for him as he sat. The little wheels squeaked as they rolled along, and Night Lilly waited for the strange creature—Raegdan, she was almost certain that was his name—to acknowledge her.

He wasn’t moving. He sat there, elbows resting on his knees, his back bent, and his face resting in his open palms. She moved closer. She thought she heard something, but it couldn’t be what she thought it was. There was no possible way—

“Is he asleep?” Princess Luna asked behind Night Lilly.

Night Lilly could hear the light snoring. “Uh, yes, princess. He… is.”

The tinkling of silverware stopped. “It’s about time. You are excused, my guard. You can leave the trolley here. He shall dine when he wakes up.”

“Uh… thank you, princess,” Night Lilly said, not sure if that was the right answer or not, and left.

It looked to her that serving under Princess Luna as a Lunar guard was going to be quite different than what they expected or imagined. She didn’t think it was all going to be monster hunting and glory, not from what she was seeing. There was probably going to be a lot of adjustment for everypony involved.

Cradle Song wouldn’t mind, that stallion could shrug anything. Broken Gust hero-worshipped Princess Luna with an intensity that left the rest of them in shame. She had a certain image of the princess in mind, and who knew how meeting reality would leave her? Drum Beat… it was a matter of time until he got his face bashed into a wall. Too eager to prove himself. As Night Lilly was concerned, Eventide was a blessing. The older mare would prove invaluable as a support and a firm body to hide behind.

She froze, her thinking patterns obliterated by the realization of what she had allowed to happen. Raegdan was going to eat his dinner cold. Twilight Velvet was going to drink her blood and feast upon her soul, or what it was that dangerous mare was capable of, when she found out. What if she was one of those legendary necromancers? Or a poisoner perhaps, of untold capabilities, her knowledge of cooking nothing more than a disguise of her alchemical skills, and a way to bring her closer to her victim’s food and drink?

It didn’t matter. She was dead if that mare found out. Night Lilly ran down the corridors, searching for a heavy, blunt object, and a method to protect her chastity when she slept hugging Broken Gust for all she was worth tonight.

Drum Beat listened to Broken Gust and Cradle Song’s story, secretly wishing he had been there with them. He could have said something when the commander dared to challenge the princess’ orders, he could have shown how dependable and obedient he was. Instead, he got stuck guarding a door and checking saddlebags full of medicine or private property.

Eventide had listened without interrupting, lying still on her bed. The two thestrals had felt an urgent need to talk to somepony, but Cradle Song managed to convince Broken Gust to go to Eventide instead of Silverwing, citing they should keep all matters inside their new allegiances from now on as much as possible. The older, far more experienced mare was the logical candidate to unload their troubles on.

“I really don’t get why the princess doesn’t want the commander to find who gave that sculptor the photo,” Broken Gust said, looking back melancholically. Drum Beat and Cradle Song exchanged a knowing look. The obsessed mare was probably pining for the photo even while she kept seeing the object of her obsession in the flesh.

“Probably because she might know already,” Cradle Song said, playing with the IV tube feeding into Eventide.

The older mare reached out and pushed him away from there. “She might or might not. Why are you kids still concerned with this?” she asked with a hoarse throat. “Princess Luna ordered the matter over with.”

Drum Beat had waited patiently for this question. “Because that is our chance to show Princess Luna we—”

“Are a bunch of disobeying guards?” Eventide interrupted him, eyeing him through a blackened eye. “You make a mistake like this, she will kick you out. Scratch that, you disobey the princess like that and I’ll be the one to kick you. Understand?”

Drum Beat bowed his head in surrender. “Yes, aunty. I understand.” He felt his brief dreams shatter.

“Good,” the wounded mare said, and pushed her gray speckled mane out of her eyes. “Then go and make yourself useful. We’re supposed to go to Manehattan soon, aren’t we? Somepony could easily hide one of these things in the train. Help the commander figure out a way to make sure nopony tries anything like this.”

“But I thought we were supposed—”

“If I could stand, I would smack you,” Eventide said, pouting. “Drum Beat, you’re not trying to go against the princess’s wishes, you are trying to keep her safe. Go and do your job!”

“Yes, ma’am. Let’s go.” Drum Beat took the lead, rushing out the door, once again filled with purpose.

Eventide watched them leave silently.

She huffed as she laid alone on the single bed. What was the princess playing at?