“So,” Imperator said to the saddlebag-wearing pink pegasus stallion in front of him, in the Starlightopolis palace lobby, “you are the new envoy that Elder Big Rat has given us.”

“I am,” he replied, “and I have the scout reports for you here, just as Starlight Glimmer requested.”

Imperator looked to Starlight and Checkmate, who stood together behind him. “Did you hear that? Our scout reports have arrived.”

“Took them long enough,” Starlight said.

“I'm just surprised you have the Brotherhood working for you in the first place,” Checkmate added.

Starlight looked over to the pink stallion. “Do you know what happened to Bright, by any chance?”

“Afraid not,” he replied. “We've had no word of or from him since he went to negotiate your terms with the Legate. The Elder has officially declared him 'missing in action'. Likely dead, possibly enslaved.”

“But what about the thorny branches?”

“Snakefang is rather iffy with parlay, it seems.”

“Hm. That's a shame. I kinda liked Bright. So, who would you be?”

The pink pegasus stroked his curly red mane. “I am Red Velvet. From Kov.” He looked to Imperator. “Along with the scout reports, I also have a letter bearing the seal of the Equestrian head of state.”

Imperator replied, “The Equestrian head of state… you would not mean Celestia, would you?”

“I would. It's addressed to Starlight. Technically, the scout reports are also addressed to Starlight, but we all know you'll be the one using those.”

“I see.” He lit his horn, and after opening the saddlebags, he lifted two papers, both folded and sealed. One was sealed with the Elder's snarling rat, and the other was sealed with the image of a sun shining over an apple orchard. “Move along now, Mister Velvet. Keep us updated on future reports.”

Starlight watched as Red Velvet, without a word, nudged himself through the palace doors, letting them shut behind him when he was through. Then, she looked at the folded letter in front of her. Once the letters were levitating in place, Starlight took Celestia's letter with her magical grip, and pulled it towards her.  She knew that this was, indeed, Celestia's seal. The scent emanating from the paper struck her. It was the smell of decomposing flesh. It made Starlight raise an eyebrow.

Checkmate tapped Starlight in her side. “Go on. Read it. It must be important.”

“Alright,” replied Starlight. First, she peeled off the seal, then she unfolded the letter. She was treated to a block of messy, erratic handwriting, etched on a paper dotted with stains of coffee and cake frosting. It read:

Starlight's eyes widened, and she pulled her head back with her teeth grimaced in a cringe. 'Good god,' Starlight thought, 'she's gone completely bonkers.' Just then, she noticed another block of text directly below it. This one was more cleanly written. It read:

P.S. (From Princess Cadence) Luna and I thought it would be best to show you Princess Celestia's mental state firsthand. This is just the latest of many letters she has tried to send, to you and to many others. They all are pretty much the same, but they have been getting more incomprehensible and paranoiac with each one she writes. You should know how badly all this is affecting her sanity. Please, take pity on her. She's ruled in peace for millenia; change does not sit well with her. Surely, even you are not so heartless as to ignore this level of suffering. All of Equestria loves her, and seeing her in this state saddens us all deeply. I am trying my best to mitigate the damage that her illness causes to the realm, since Luna is busy leading our forces in war. Please do not force us to take more drastic measures. I fear the death of Celestia would mark the beginning of a second Ice Age.

Starlight looked to Checkmate with pursed lips, and discomfort in her eyes.

“What's wrong?” Checkmate asked.

“Ugh. What isn't wrong? You have to read this!” Starlight exchanged magical grips on the letter with Checkmate, who began examining the letter. As her gaze drew down the paper, she remained cool and inexpressive. But, about three quarters of the way to the end, her eyebrows shot up. Checkmate eventually finished reading, and she looked back to Starlight with a slight cringe.

“What happened?” Checkmate asked.

Starlight hesitated. “Well, we kind of… sort of… sent her Princess Twilight's charred corpse with a forged letter of provocation from the Kaiser to get her help in our war.”

Checkmate let out an airy chuckle. “That is completely and utterly deplorable. Even by Wasteland standards.” She chuckled. "I love it."

“Yeah, I expected her to take it hard, but not this hard!” Starlight's voice was becoming distressed. “Oh god, what did we do?”

Imperator turned around and walked up to Checkmate and Starlight. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I don't know! I got this letter from Princess Celestia, and… and it's all one big word salad. I can hardly understand it.”

“Let me see…” He exchanged magical grips on the letter with Checkmate, and took a quick scan of it before looking back to Starlight. “I recognize this sort of language handicap. The technical term is, indeed, word salad. It is caused by deep psychosis, often found in discount slaves, caused by botched lobotomies.”

“So, you can decipher it?”

“Not with complete accuracy, no. But back in the day, I did serve some time stationed as a guard at a slave holding chamber, and I did gain a modicum of skill in deciphering confused language in that time. And this letter is not entirely unintelligible.”

Starlight let out a huff. “Go on, then. Read it.”

Imperator locked his gaze on the paper to read it more thoroughly. “Hmm. It seems that the Princess believes that you were taken under Twilight Sparkle's wing as a student of friendship.”

Starlight rolled her eyes and scowled. “That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Seriously. What kind of idiot would even think of that crap, let alone write it?”

He continued reading. “It seems that her sister told her that she was insane. It also seems that she is having hallucinations concerning a friendly version of the ancient chaos god, Discord, which serves to affirm her delusions, so Luna's testimony is probably for naught.” He paused. “She comforts herself by gorging herself on sweet pastries, but is afraid that Luna might be poisoning it.” He looked to Starlight. “Perhaps she is somewhat suicidal. She would otherwise be avoiding cake if she feared it was poisonous, would she not?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Keep going.”

He continued. “She seems to have developed an irrational fear of dresser drawers. Considers them harborers of demons. She claims to have banished them from the kingdom, considering bags to be the better substitute. Apparently, she believes that placing a bag over her head protects her from demonic possession.” He read more. “She murdered her favorite castle guard, probably with her royal scepter, having either mistaken him for a demon or believed that he was possessed by a demon. Either way, I can only imagine the grief adding to her psychosis.” He read more still. “Luna told her that you were possessed by a demon.”

Starlight shook her head. “Probably in an attempt to convince her that I'm a bad mare.”

“Likely.” He continued. “She somehow got the idea that clean white socks help ward off demons.”

“Well,” Checkmate said with a smile, “they certainly help my hooves stay nice and warm. Maybe she's not completely insane.”

He kept reading. “Her guards have told her of her paranoia. She has taken this as evidence that her guards are conspiring against her, with Luna as the head of their plot. She also suspects Luna of being possessed by demons.” He paused. “She is asking you for advice on how to deal with the situation, as since you are Twilight Sparkle's student of friendship, you are the most well-equipped to help her.”

Starlight rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Sure. Friendship will ward off the demons. And who better to wield the power of friendship than a brand-new student of it with a teacher who's barely out of school, herself? Excellent plan. Foolproof.” She paused. “Keep going.”

“Hmm. I think you will take a liking to this one, Starlight.”

“What?”

“It seems that Celestia has taken in Princess Twilight as her bedtime cuddling partner, going so far as to give her kisses. Whether or not those kisses are platonic, I cannot guess.”

One corner of Starlight's mouth tensed up. “But wait. Twilight's dead.”

“That has clearly not been a deterrent.” He continued. “She has grown accustomed to, perhaps even fond of the corpse's stench, as she believes it to be a repellent to demons. She also cries regularly, and uses the corpse to soak her tears. Interestingly, although she hallucinates speech from Twilight, it is incomprehensible to her, but she does understand some things.”

“Like what?” Starlight asked.

“Apparently, Twilight forgives you for something you did. What that something is, I cannot guess. She also says that Twilight wants to come see you again, and lay in Celestia's bed with her.”

Starlight tried to purge the mental image of herself sleeping in a filth-ridden bed with a charred, rotten alicorn corpse.

Imperator concluded, “Well, Starlight, Checkmate. Celestia is, indeed, mad. I am sure this revelation comes as a complete shock to you.”

“Yeah. Shocker.”

“Cadence seems to be attempting to put it under control, so I do not see why you are so concerned.”

“I don't know. I just feel like I should be concerned. We're supposed to be trading partners with them. If Celestia steps off the throne, then Luna's going to take her place, and I'm not sure if she'll let us trade as freely, if at all.”

Checkmate looked to Starlight. “You can try trading with them by proxy.”

“What do you mean?” Starlight asked.

“If you can't buy directly from Equestrian merchants, then you can tell merchants from other places to buy Equestrian merchandise, then sell it back to you. You'll have to pay quite a bit more money, sure, but it's not the end of the world.”

“But I also wanted to import skilled labor.”

“Darling. Surely, Equestria isn't the only industrial country out there.”

“Yeah, I guess not. But it is the only one with skilled labor in sufficient quantity.”

“Give a mare an apple, you'll feed her for a day. Teach a mare to grow an orchard…”

“Hm.” Starlight put a hoof to her chin, thinking about it for a moment. “So, you're saying I only need to get a few of them so they can teach the Wastelanders, themselves, these skills?”

Checkmate smiled, then nodded.

“Additionally,” Imperator added, “Cadence should keep Celestia tied to the throne just long enough for us to take what we need while still keeping things relatively stable. We may not even have to trade by proxy. And the weakened leadership will just make it easier for us to betray them if such a course of action should prove beneficial. Really, Celestia's descent into madness is a good thing, is it not?”

Starlight drew her gaze to the side, conflicted over whether she should be worried or not. But Checkmate and Imperator both made good points. And Celestia probably deserved it, too. It was her fault for not keeping her brash, young, hot-blooded vassal on a tighter leash. Celestia should have seen this one coming.

With her mind made up, she looked up to Imperator with certainty in her eyes, and confidence in her smile. “You know what? You're right. To hell with her. I don't know what I was thinking! Getting all worked up over something like that.”

Imperator lifted a hoof and caressed Starlight's cheek. “Ah, there is the Starlight we all know and love! You had me worried there for a moment. I was starting to think you were losing your resolve.”

“Nope.” She leaned her head against his hoof and laid one of her own over it. “I'm still your favorite mare, and I'm still fully committed to equality.”

“That is what I like to hear. Do you want to see that last surprise I saved for you now?”

“I do.”

“Very good.” Imperator slid his hoof off Starlight's cheek and set it back down. “Our scouts report that the Empire has begun its assault on Brustworth Bridge. Speed is of the essence, but it is imperative that you see this before we go. I think it will help you greatly in your fight against the Legate.”

“Well, then. Lead the way.”

A biting chill loomed in the air as a full moon cast its light down from the nighttime sky. On the wooden deck of the Dodger Young, the black flagship zeppelin of the all-pegasus Equestrian Mobile Infantry, Private Rainbow Dash stood at attention with her squad, led by Sergeant Lightning Dust, and the rest of her company, to hear the briefing of Major Hurricane Blitzer for today's mission. The Major stood over his company on a platform, under bright fluorescent lights swinging from loose rubber-coated wires, with a topographic map standing on a trifold board and marked in the middle with a red X.

“Attention, company,” the Major ordered. “As you may have already been told, we're here to do one thing, and one thing only: kill Legate Snakefang Gelder. This primary objective comes all the way up from Luna, herself, and you will dedicate your lives to it. Now, you may be asking yourself: 'Why kill the Legate?' The best answer is because I told you to. But some of you won't be content with that, so I'll tell you why Luna wants us to kill him.

“Intelligence tells us that Snakefang has been the Empire's top Legate for over thirty years, and has held the rank of Legate for forty. He is one-hundred-twenty-seven years old. That might seem fanciful to you, but that's a typical age for an Imperial Legate. These are some dangerous folks, born and bred exclusively for war, with decades of experience being the norm rather than the exception. They're big. They're highly resistant to pain. They have razor-sharp sight and hearing. They're super-strong, and super-tough. They have absolutely no qualms about killing – they actually enjoy it, in fact – and are immune to combat fatigue. And as a unicorn-only race, they have extremely potent magic that they use almost exclusively for combat. Don't even think about engaging one unless you outnumber him ten to one.

“All this is why Luna would rather fight them directly as little as possible. Snakefang commands his forces with fear and terror. But more importantly, Snakefang is the Kaiser's uncle, and resides in the same familial house as him. Having Snakefang defeated by us 'lowly' Equestrians will reflect poorly on the Kaiser, perhaps even prompting his own personal bodyguard to murder him. This, too, may seem fanciful to you, but it is standard procedure in the Empire. However, even if this does not happen, Snakefang's death will weaken their morale, and leave them confused until they find a replacement for him. Just long enough for Luna and her ally in the east to give them a good double whammy.

“So you know the importance of this mission. Now, Snakefang has just left the city of Benn after a meeting with the Kaiser, and is now heading back to his camp to prepare for his own attack tomorrow morning. He's all alone. Wants to stay mobile and inconspicuous. But it was a foolish decision. We'll have him surrounded by our whole company, four whole platoons, ambushing him from all directions.

“We will be attacking in three waves. One squad from each platoon will attack before the other. Now, I want First Lieutenant Fast Bolt to hide behind this hill here.” He tapped a place on his map. “First Lieutenant Wind Whistler will take the hill north of Fast Bolt's. First Lieutenants Thunderlane and Flitter will take this hill and this hill, respectively.” He tapped two places on his map. “Thunderlane is with me.” Lt. Thunderlane led the platoon to which Sgt. Lightning Dust and Pvt. Rainbow Dash were assigned. “You will notice that these four hills conveniently look over the point on the road here from four sides.” He pointed to the red X. “On my signal, I want every First Lieutenant to send a squad against the Legate. If you ever get discouraged by seeing more of ours fall than theirs, then just remember: If one legionary dies for every ten of us, we'll do fine. Now, are there any questions from my Lieutenants?” There was silence. “Then consider yourselves dismissed. You have ten minutes to get everything prepared before we move out. I suggest going light on the armor. His blasts will easily punch through even our heaviest gear, but they won't punch through anything they don't hit.”

Some time later, Rainbow Dash and all the rest of Thunderlane's platoon were huddled in an assortment of foxholes, dug hastily with shovels held with teeth, underneath beige cloth blankets held up with sticks and topped with a thin layer of sand. Sgt. Dust had told Pvt. Dash and the rest of her squad, in no uncertain terms, not to speak until spoken to. So, Pvt. Dash was reduced to counting the rings on her standard issue thin chainmail suit to pass the time, dwelling on her life choices as she did. She took special note of the many rings that were brown with rust, as well as the gaps left by rings entirely absent.

Pvt. Dash recalled that Sgt. Dust was still sore over what happened at the Wonderbolts Academy, so she always went out of her way to ensure Pvt. Dash had the worst equipment and the most unpleasant duties. Sgt. Dust had joined the Mobile Infantry quite some time before the war, giving her just enough time to rise up to the highest enlisted rank available. This was due, in no small part, to being kicked out of the Academy; yet by sheer chance, it gave her the opportunity to enact some sweet revenge on this fresh new recruit who'd ruined her dreams in another not-too-distant life.

These thoughts dwelled in Pvt. Dash's mind, until she finally found a distraction from them: a hushed conversation between Second Lieutenant Cloud Kicker and Sgt. Dust. Pvt. Dash focused her attention in on it.

“Word from Thunderlane,” Lt. Kicker said. “Snakefang stopped moving.”

Sgt. Dust had a glazed look in the eye, fixed on a cockroach scurrying around in the sand. “Great. More sitting around. That's real good news. Have any other useful facts for me?”

Lt. Kicker groaned. “You know, you should treat your officers with a bit more respect.”

“Or what, new meat? You'll report me?” She looked to Lt. Kicker. “I'm the best sarge this company has. It's not my fault you're a meek little college filly who sucks at leadership. Why don't you just give up if you can't even get respect from your subs?”

Pvt. Dash got the urge to stand up to Sgt. Dust. With a heaping helping of hoof to the face. Too bad that was extremely against the rules. Stupid rules.

“Hey, I didn't think we'd be going to war!”

“If you didn't want to go to war, then you shouldn't have joined the MI, sweet-cheeks.”

Just then, she heard a throaty, guttural shouting, echoing over the hill. “Hey there, girlies! I see you there. Yes, you! The beardless ninnies behind the hills. Stop hiding like scared little goats and come die like a real stallion. I dare you.”

Pvt. Dash's heart sank. The element of surprise, the one thing they had to count on, was lost. As if to not be noticed, Pvt. Dash lifted her steel cap off her head and cradled it in her chest as she laid on the ground, quivering in fetal position.

Sgt. Dust stood over Pvt. Dash with a grin, and laughed. “Aww. Look at the big, bad Rainbow Dash, waying down wike a widdle baby. You gonna cry, little baby? Go on. Cry. I wanna see you CRY!”

Lt. Thunderlane ordered his first squad out to the Legate. The air echoed with the booms and crackles of deadly unicorn magic, and the pained screams of pegasi being either shot down in midair or crushed by Snakefang's armor-clad hooves. The fear and hopelessness that struck Pvt. Dash made her sob like an infant. She tried to hide her crying by holding her cap up to her face, but Sgt. Dust knew, and Pvt. Dash knew that she knew.

Sgt. Dust kept taunting her. “Oh, you have no idea how long I've waited to see this, you dumb little cunt. Even your fellow squadmates are laughing at you, little miss 'I'm as good as the Wonderbolts' Dash. For all your talk, this is what you do when it gets real. And I hope you die like this. Die in dirt and your own pathetic puddle of tears. Stupid cunt.” Lt. Kicker couldn't be bothered to help with this situation. There were more pressing matters. Pvt. Dash heard some muffled speech a few yards away, but couldn't quite understand it. Immediately after the speech stopped, Pvt. Dash heard more laughter from Sgt. Dust, followed by a hard kick in her stomach that made her puke a little in her mouth. “You hear that, baby Dash? Second squad is out, Thunderlane is dead, and the Major can't be assed to deal with Kicker.”

But then, a noise from the Major rung throughout the field. It was not an order. Not a comment. Not even someone's name. It was a scream laced with agony, followed by silence. The Major was dead. The central leading figure of the company was now gone. And at this point, the only sound to be heard was Snakefang's joyful cackling. This foxhole now only had Sgt. Dust's squad, with the only officer around being Lt. Kicker. Pvt. Dash lifted her cap back up to her head so she could see what was going on. Lt. Kicker and Sgt. Dust were arguing.

Sgt. Dust flung a hoof up and yelled, “Yeah, and we have HOW MANY left?”

“None. They're all dead. We're the only ones left. But you and Dash are our company's best, and Snakefang's coming up the hill alone.”

“Psh. And, what? You think we can take him? Look at Private Dash. You think she's in any shape to fight Snakefang?”

“I know it looks grim, bu-”

“But what? You wanna do a 'heroic sacrifice'?”

Lt. Kicker stuck out her chest. “It's what we signed up to do. I took an oath to die for my country, and I'm going to do it. And you're going to do it, too.”

“Or what?” There was a long silence, until Sgt. Dust looked at Lt. Kicker with a razor-sharp stare, and a grin eager for blood. “Yeah. You can die for your country, sweet-cheeks. Here, I'LL HELP YOU!”

Sgt. Dust pounced on Lt. Kicker, knocking her down to the ground like a bull on a hapless matador, then pummeling her head into the ground with a hoof, making her wail in anguish. Pvt. Dash stared horrified as Sgt. Dust slammed her hoof into Lt. Kicker's head again and again, until her brains oozed from cracks in her skull, and then until her skull shattered entirely. Sgt. Dust's blood-spattered grin only grew as she pulverized the leftover brain, but it was cut short when the squad's makeshift camouflage cover was ripped from the ground in a green aura and thrown away with careless abandon. Sgt. Dust's smile shrunk. The squad looked up at the top of the hill, and found Snakefang in his signature green and purple armor, looking down at them.

Snakefang chuckled. “A bit of unfriendly fire, I see.” He looked directly at Sgt. Dust. “And you look like you're enjoying yourself.”

Sgt. Dust said, “As leader of this squad, I surrender.”

“Hmm… and why should I accept?”

“I'll be honest. I can't think of a good reason. I just think this is my safest bet.”

“I like you. How's that for a reason?”

Sgt. Dust smirked. “Enough to take me out to dinner sometime?”

“Hah! Keep that up, and I just might.”

Pvt. Dash looked around. Each and every one of her squadmates stared stricken with terror at what was happening. Not just for Sgt. Dust brutally murdering her commanding officer with manic glee, but also for getting along with the infamous Legate Snakefang Gelder better than she did anyone in her own army.

Sgt. Dust motioned to her squad. “We're all gonna follow the good Legate, okay? It's our best chance to come out of this thing alive.”

Snakefang pointed to Pvt. Dash. “You want to bring that thing with you, miss…”

“Lightning Dust. Sergeant. Mobile Infantry.”

“It is a pleasure meeting you, Lightning Dust. I am sure you know who I am.”

Sgt. Dust nodded.

“Good. Now, about that blue thing…”

Sgt. Dust chuckled. “I want to watch you to do some horrible things to that one.”

“Kid, you don't know the meaning of 'horrible' until you've visited an Imperial torture chamber.”

She pointed to Pvt. Dash. “I want you to teach it to her. She's a bitch.”

“Hah! You remind me of my eldest daughter. Trust me, that's a complement.” He put a hoof up and extended it to her. “Come with me. I'll have to put you in a cage just like any other prisoner, but otherwise, I will give you very special treatment.”

“I couldn't have asked for more.”

He put his hoof down. “And, if you're a good little filly, then I'll put the blue one through some work in the chamber, and I'll let you watch. Consider it our first date.”

“Don't forget the wine.”

“I would never dream of it.”

With her grin returned, Sgt. Dust walked up the hill, motioning her squad to do the same. Pvt. Dash was petrified in despair at this point. After waiting a few moments for Pvt. Dash to get up, Snakefang eventually grew impatient, and lifted her up with magic. Pvt. Dash got sick in the pit of her stomach, seeing evil not only not punished, but rewarded. Hoping this was all just a bad dream, Pvt. Dash closed her eyes, thinking that maybe if she ignored the horrors of the Wasteland, they would go away.

“Your surprise is in here.”

Imperator swung open an oaken double-door, and Starlight saw a wooden box roughly her own size standing in the middle of an empty marble chamber. Then, the box was surrounded by a golden magical aura, and it burst into millions of flying splinters that rained down like confetti. Starlight shut her eyes, not wanting any to get in them.

After the last splinter fell, Starlight looked back into the room, and she saw a lavender suit of Imperial-style plate armor standing on an armor rack. Her smile grew wide as she examined it. The plates' color matched that of her coat perfectly, except for the black equal marks on its flanks, and reflected light from its sleek curvature like a glazed pot. It was articulated with utmost precision at every joint. Its helm had a plume of plucked slaves' hair that matched her own mane's color scheme exactly, and a gold-plated crown of thorny branches welded on it. And most impressively to Starlight, the two openings in the back had metal frames to protect the flesh and bone parts of her wings, like the frames Imperator had on his.

Imperator stood next to the armor and turned to Starlight. “What do you think of it?”

“I love it!” She took a breath. “Can I try it on?”

“Please. By all means.”

With her magic, she slipped each part of her toga off her body, making sure to fold each one neatly before setting it on the ground. She felt coolness brush through her coat after the toga was removed entirely, and stacked in a pyramid on the ground. Finally, she lifted her crown off her head and set it on top of the pyramid before she looked to her suit of armor.

As she clad each part of her armor on her, she couldn't help but smile at how it hugged every part of her, from her head to her haunches, and from her withers to her hooves. Because it was a masterfully crafted suit made specifically for her, there wasn't the slightest bit of chafing or wobbling, and she could move around in it just as well as if she wasn't wearing anything. The suit was lined with a smooth padding so that her coat didn't get stuck in the plates, and so she'd be as comfortable as possible in it. But oddly, the helm's eyeholes were covered from the inside with clear glass.

Starlight looked to Imperator, who was still watching. “This is wonderful!” She strutted around the room, pleased at the sound of her own voice muffled through the helm. “It fits me like a dream, and you even put my old mark on there. How sweet of you. So, how do I look?”

“You look dashing,” he replied.

She stopped and looked at him. “But, you know, I don't think it's safe to have glass near my eyes.”

“That is not just regular glass, dear. That is an Equestrian import. Acrylic glass, they call it. Plus, it has highly specialized ward, so that even putting a scratch on it would be a gargantuan effort."

“Well, what if it's hit with something that can break it?”

“In that case, you will have other things to worry about.”

“Like what?”

“Like pigs sprouting wings and taking flight.”

“Oh, okay. So, are there any other things about this suit I should know about?”

Imperator's horn began to emit fire. “It is fireproof.” Starlight suddenly found herself engulfed in fire from in front of her, yet its only effect on her was a twinge of warmth on her skin. The flame, itself, seemed to glide off her helm's air slits as if they weren't there. Starlight felt a rush of excitement, and laughed. The fire suddenly went away, and a mirror was being held in front of her, its handle covered in a golden aura. Her reflection showed not a single singe or stain; even her plume was untouched.

Imperator set the mirror aside. “It is also magic-resistant.” A flurry of golden magical missiles struck her from Imperator's horn, followed by various dings and clangs from each place she was hit, but no pain.

Starlight walked up close to Imperator, and she tried to shoot him a smug look, but then realized her helm concealed it. “Anything else?”

“One last thing.” Without warning, Imperator struck her jaw with a lightning-fast backhoofed blow. Yet, although her head was flung back from the hit, the pain was minimal. The sound and the vibrations of her armor ringing from her helm to down her back was more noticeable. “It is shock absorbent.”

Starlight recovered from the blow. “Hey! That's the second time you did that.” She paused. “Do you like hitting me?”

“Do you like being hit?”

She chuckled. “You know me. I don't mind a little rough treatment now and then. Just don't overdo it. I'm not a masochist.”

“I will try not to.”

She touched a hoof on the spot where she was hit. “And I'm assuming you didn't leave a dent in there?”

“Of course not. I would not be so cruel as to damage your gift just after giving it to you.”

She nodded. “Good. I'd hate to face down the Legate with a dent in my helmet.”

“Your duel should be soon. Cordelphi should go down with practically no effort, and we should be meeting the Legate's forces in short order.”

Starlight sauntered past Imperator, and through the room's exit. “Well, let's go, then. I'd rather not waste any more time.” Next Chapter: Chapter 23 Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 43 Minutes