Summer Glade looked at the anklet in stunned silence. She wasn't one for jewelry, nor was she one to enjoy showing off wealth or status, but something about the simple piece of shaped silver made her reconsider her position. Three roses were embossed on its outer surface, polished to a mirror shine that dazzled the eyes in the morning light. It was a little loose around her foreleg's fetlock, but looked no less marvelous for its slight flaw; if anything, the extra room improved its appearance.

“I figured it would look nice with your necklace,” Springs explained, motioning to his friend's neck. Twilight and Cadence looked as well, though they knew precisely what he was pointing to. The Ring of Hircine hung around her neck on a slim chain of silver, its mock wolf head staring at the ground wherever Glade went, keeping her inner beast at bay.

“I agree; it looks lovely,” Cadence replied, smiling. She knew Reman wore something very similar during his first visit to Equestria, which, in her mind, made her believe the artifact was a gift.

“I love it, Springs,” Glade sighed happily, looking at her friend. Truthfully, she couldn't help but equate the roses to Azura, and their number didn't help in that regard. To her, she was wearing symbols devoted to two Daedric Princes, and she couldn't help but notice Reman's gaze drifting to the anklet in question. “I'll find a way to pay you back, alright?”

“Nonsense,” the effeminate Lunar Guard replied. He looked at her for only a second longer before slumping forward in his seat, smacking his head against the table. A soft snore told the others he was quite fine, only tired from a night of running and strenuous labor. Cadence was already motioning for other guards to relieve him even as Reman and Shining Armor walked over to provide any assistance they could.

As Renoir Belmont walked into the grand hall, he couldn't help but wonder how Equestria managed to do anything when it couldn't go three hours without an emergency of some sort popping up. He finished wiping his arms down with a towel, cleaning off the water-thinned blood as he went. Luna followed him directly, trotting in such a way that gravity itself seemed secondary to her whims. To the casual observer, she looked giddy as a meadowlark; to those in her inner circle, she appeared nervous enough to vomit up her intestines.

The vampire casually noted Reman's appearance, and wondered for a moment how he managed to scale the castle's walls while in full Dwemer armor. At least he left the helmet in his suite, so he was courteous enough to keep the table uncluttered. He knew his friend's behavior was a show, a way to prove to any guests that may have joined them for breakfast that he was indeed human, living, beneath the bronze shell. Even when he was not required to prance about in the guise of a politician, he could only fall into old habits.

“Renoir,” Reman acknowledged as he looked up from the unconscious stallion. Another stallion, one with a coat and mane very similar to Glade's looked at him curiously. For a moment, he wondered if they were related, but he guessed by the stallion's lack of wings and Glade's lack of a horn that they were no closer than he and Reman. “Meet Prince Shining Armor.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Winter Tundra walked about the castle grounds with his wife, Spring Valley, at his side. He heard from a very reliable source that his daughter was back in town and staying at the castle. He would have words with this Reman, as he heard Glade's special somepony was named, and he would have everything brought into the open. He'd spent his entire life devoted to Equestria and Princess Celestia and he'd be damned if he'd stand for the same need-to-know bullshit he'd been fed since the Winter Solstice Festival. His daughter was missing for the best part of a month, and she'd been gone for a week before that.

“Dear, please calm down,” Spring Valley said, resting a hoof on her husband's shoulder. She knew his pain; she'd put up with Tundra's erratic schedule for nearly thirty years, and it was just as tough on her as it had been on him. “Our little filly won't hide anything from us.”

“It's the princesses I'm worried about,” he grunted, staring at the castle's large doors. It had been a few years since he could freely walk through them, but even normal citizens were welcomed within the palace's grand halls; it would just take him a while to get where he needed to go.

“Winter Tundra, it's been a while,” a voice called from behind them. It was a voice Tundra knew from his younger years, before he joined the Solar Guard. Night Light and Twilight Velvet had gone to high school with the two pegasi, and they'd kept in touch as best as anypony could. Tundra and Valley had never met their kids, and vice versa. The major wasn't even sure if the couple had any children. “Still enjoying the retirement?”

“As well as anyone can, I suppose.” Truthfully, he was often bored out of his skull. The only time he ever enjoyed his retirement were those scant few mornings he was able to sleep late before his wife had him do things. “And what of yourself? Library still running smoothly?”

“I'd rather be retired; it's more of a hobby that pays, at any rate.” Yes, Tundra remembered a fair bit of Light's personality from their school days; he was a good pony, dedicated, but had particular tastes. The unicorn looked at him curiously. “Are you signing back up?”

“Oh, of course not,” Spring Valley answered for her husband, her voice dripping with more malice than would have been expected. She was hoping to live out the remainder of her life in Cloudsdale, and she was not going to allow Tundra any opportunity to change that. “We're here to pick up our daughter, Summer Glade.”

“You mean the werewolf pony?” a little dragon asked as he poked his head from Twilight Velvet's padded saddlebag. Spike was getting tired of being lugged around like a child, but he knew the two unicorns cared for him like a son, even if it got on his nerves. “Are you Glade’s parents?” he wondered aloud, looking at the two pegasi.

“Why yes we are, sweetie,” Valley answered, smiling at the little, green dragon. As adorable as the little guy was, something stuck out to her. “What in Equestria is a werewolf?”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“Good morning, auntie,” Cadence called as Celestia walked into the dining hall. All in all, she seemed to be the best rested of the bunch, without a single, ephemeral hair out of place. She smiled as she saw her niece, taking note of the clump of bodies around her. Shining Armor and Reman seemed to have cast aside previous hostilities, though there was still some animosity between them. The prince was still steamed over the crashed festival and injured guardsponies; the noble was purely reactive. “I trust everything is well?”

“I see everypony is getting along just fine,” Celestia replied, happy to also see her sister and Renoir had joined them. She didn't particularly like the vampire, but he was Reman's friend and therefore warranted some chance to prove himself better than his kin in Equestria. For most ponies, his restraint was enough to clear him at least partially of suspicion; Princess Celestia had not been as successful as she was by being most ponies. “Is young Fluttershy unwell this morning, Twilight?”

“Sadly, princess,” the Element confessed. There was slight tinge to her cheeks as she thought of why. “She's a little.. under the weather.” Renoir suppressed a snicker, finding it tasteless under such circumstances, though he knew Reman would have found it equally amusing. There was, however, a slight twinge in his otherwise stony facade.

“Something funny, Renoir?” the Imperial asked, leaning on his elbows. He had known his friend for all of a year and had grown accustomed to his sense of humor; it didn’t help that both of them had once been of a rather hopeless sort. “You didn’t tell her about your youth, did you?”

“Hardly,” he laughed. “She drank an entire flask of Angelus.” Reman winced at his words, knowing the effect it had on most living things. While alcohol was ineffective on his lycanthropic body, Angelus was another toxin entirely, and could drop him like a normal man after a few bottles of Nord mead on an empty stomach. “Relax; it didn’t stay down long.”

“I think I'm lost,” Shining Armor said, looking to the princesses and his sister. The pale human sent a shiver down his spine, but so had Reman when he'd first met him. The Imperial whistled and shook his head, laughing a bit to himself. He cleared his throat and tapped two fingers on the table to get the others' collective attention..

“Angelus Sanguinum is a special toxin Renoir and I distill for recreational use.” He flashed a smiled to accentuate his point, but knew that his nature was known to everyone at the table, and maybe even the guards who stood at the wall. “Ingestion tends to be rather fatal for anyone who does not have a sufficient resistance to poisons.”

“That seems like something you would make,” Celestia said after a moment. She knew more about the Imperial than anypony liked to admit, but she couldn't help but understand how useful it could be. “I don't suppose the recipe is available?”

“I'd be surprised if you had the ingredients for it,” Renoir laughed, leaning back in his chair. He wasn't much of an alchemist, but most mages trained in Restoration had at least some knowledge of medicines, both magic and mundane. In the right dosage, that which cures most certainly kills, and Reman's skills as a black mage made it rather easy to refine and concentrate the vile liquid. “I imagine it would be a tad unsavory for anyone with such... delicate systems.”

“Once again, I must inform you that it is rather rude to underestimate your hosts' capabilities,” Luna gave the vampire a look that suggested a challenge, one she was confident she could win. She was aware of how must unpleasantness seemed to permeate every corner of Nirn, and even more knowledgeable on how its denizens could adapt it to fir their needs. “I assure you that we are all adults and quite capable of tolerating anything you can throw at us.”

Renoir smiled and looked to his friend, who seemed just as satisfied with the conversation's turn. They did not partake in conspiracy as often as one would assume, given their reclusive habits, but they did enjoy the occasional practical joke when they visited the College. “We only get to distill a batch every now and again; Reman can tell you more.”

“Well, the process begins when a group of dungeon crawlers or bandits decides to see if our storehouse holds more than cobwebs and broken machines.” The Imperial smiled deviously, taking no small amount of enjoyment in finally speaking about his work. The alchemical and magical aspects that went into making Angelus Sanguinum were simply sublime, if one cared for the creator's opinion. “Now, it is important to know that this requires an elf of some sort, preferably a Bosmer or Dunmer; Falmer and Orsimer are too sour, and Altmer are far too sweet.

"We take them alive, but only after we've dispatched the other intruders.” Reman tented his fingers and smiled directly at Princess Luna, silently telling her that it was no one's fault but hers that this was being spread to everyone in the room. “First, we string the elf or elves up by their wrists and ankles, facing the ground. Then, while Renoir is using his Restoration magics to keep them alive, I make a few small cuts along the thighs and arms, just enough to get them bleeding at a decent rate, but not too fast so they don't bleed out before we've extracted all we need.”

“That's terrible,” Cadence said, putting the pieces together in her mind. She had grown accustomed to the Imperial's brash behavior, having seen more brutish ponies in her time as ruler of the Crystal Empire, but this business bordered on magics that were not merely misunderstood or abused as dark magic, but truly evil. “This borders on necromancy, which is very much illegal in Equestria.”

“Then I suppose it is very good that this is visceromancy, which falls under Restoration, and has since it was used to determine the cause of Red Death,” Renoir replied in place of his friend.

“As I was saying, we need a large vat of elven blood because much of it is lost during the refining process,” Reman continued, tapping a finger against his chin as he recalled the details. Shining Armor was looking at him like he was a psychopath, though there was a bit of apprehension as he also looked to his sister. Twilight, in many ways, was one of the most acclimated to Nirn's ways; she shared more with the humans than the blood on her hooves. “Now, after the blood has been collected, we add a number of servings of nightshade and Namira's rot, depending on how much we have.”

A guard walked into the dining hall as the Imperial spoke, heading directly for Celestia. It was neither unheard of nor unexpected for the guardsponies to first locate the princess on duty, only looking for the other if she was unavailable. He whispered something into her ear, and a look of relief crossed her features. “Reman, as nice as it is to hear all this, we must cut this short,” she said, trying not to look too happy.

“Princess, he was just getting to the good part,” Renoir added sarcastically, grinning at the alabaster alicorn.

“That will have to wait until after our guests have left the castle,” she replied, nodding her head to a guard next to the door. The stallion silently walked to the handles and pulled them down, refraining from using his magic as part of the reverence required of Solar Guards while on duty. Unfettered by the perceived limitation, he opened the tall, mahogany doors for Her Majesty's guests, relying on momentum to carry them as he quickly returned to his post.

“Reman Tullius and Renoir Belmont,” she began, smiling in a reserved and controlled manner, the sort expected of one with her status and responsibilities. “It is my pleasure to introduce Night Light and Twilight Velvet, the father and mother of my faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.” As the Imperial and Breton nodded their greetings, she continued to speak. “I would also like to introduce Major Winter Tundra and Spring Valley, father and mother of Summer Glade.”