“Aww, come on,” whined Apple Bloom. “I can help. I don't even have to fight! I could dig ditches or something.”

Applejack sighed. “For the last time, no. The sunsworn are nearly here, and there ain't much we can really do to prepare at this point except be ready.”

Big Macintosh nodded sagely, the towering plant-pony hybrid pausing just long enough to give his approval before trotting by. With a heavy bag slung over his back, the farmer dumped his burden on the waiting wagon before walking back past Apple Bloom and Applejack. The two sisters stood slightly off to the side in the shade of a large apple tree.

“Then I can fight!” Apple Bloom declared. “I’m tougher than darn near anyone, and that's without armor either!”

The young pony thumped a hoof against her bark-like chest in emphasis.

“I don't care how tough you are. You’re still a kid,” Applejack declared.

“But I can also do this, see?” Apple Bloom declared.

The young pony then sprinted several feet before stopping and whipping her tail towards a small bush nearby. The thorny appendage ripped through the plant, sending shredded leaves high into the air. A quick twist and another flick sent Apple Bloom’s tail through the bush once more, leaving the bush little more than a skeletal husk devoid of greenery.

“Awesome, right?” Apple Bloom declared. “I can even do the same with my mane, but it's a lot harder.”

“That is quite cool, but you still can't come. And didn't I tell you not to mess up any more bushes? They are a part of the orchard too,” Applejack sternly exclaimed.

Apple Bloom groaned, trotted over to the bush, and planted her forehooves on either side of it. Her eyes glowed even brighter, turning into twin headlamps of yellow light that illuminated the dark forest. The bush then shivered briefly before sprouting new leaves and even growing an inch or two taller.

“There. Happy?” Apple Bloom exclaimed.

“Over this specific thing, yes? In general, not so much,” Applejack replied.

Apple Bloom groaned and rolled her eyes. “Come on. You have to let me fight! This is my home too, you know?”

Winona ran up to Applejack and barked excitedly, the two-foot-tall timberwolf running excitedly between the pony’s legs.

“Now ya got Winona all riled up,” Applejack muttered, leaning down and extending a hoof. “Come here, you little rascal.”

The wolf dutifully trotted over and allowed Applejack to lift her up into the back of the wagon. Where she nestled amongst the bags of supplies already piled within, her eyes flicking from one sister to the other.

“Now then. Where were we?” Applejack asked.

“You were about to let me join the guard and help you fight!” Apple Bloom declared, stomping her forehooves in emphasis.

Applejack sighed. “That wasn't what was happening at all.”

“Well, that's what should be happenin’!” Apple Bloom declared.

“Now don't go shoutin’ at your sister,” Granny Smith declared, the aged farmer trotting out from the row of trees and over to the wagon where she set down a pair of saddlebags. “Not when she's bein’ the voice of reason for once.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Granny.”

“It's the truth,” Granny declared, patting the other mare on the back. “Y'all can be a bit bullheaded for your own good. Somethin’ that runs in the family.”

Apple Bloom snorted. “See? Granny Smith believes in me.”

“That ain't what I said, child,” Granny Smith stated. “Y'all can be as tough as the forest itself. but it ain't gonna help ya. Not against what these youngins are about to face.”

“Then why do they get to go but not me?” Apple Bloom complained.

“Because they got experience with this whole adventurin’ thing,” Granny Smith snorted and gave Applejack a firm look. “Besides. It ain't like she's going to listen to me anyway.”

“Well, I ain't gonna listen to you either!” Apple Bloom declared.

Applejack sighed and ran a hoof down her face. “That isn't how this works, Apple Bloom.”

“If I may,” interrupted Big Macintosh, the wolf-like stallion stepping between the pair.

Applejack gestured at her sister. “Be my guest.”

Big Macintosh turned to the younger pony, who flinched before quickly standing tall once more.

“Do y'all know how to fight?” Big Macintosh asked.

“No, but-”

“Do y'all know how to fight in a unit along with others?” Big Macintosh pressed.

“Well, no-”

“Do y'all know how to handle a weapon?” Big Macintosh inquired.

“Does a shovel count?” Apple Bloom replied.

Big Macintosh blinked. “No.”

“Well, then no… but that doesn't matter, ‘cause-”

“‘Cause nothing,” Big Macintosh interrupted. “If you joined the fight, you would be more of a danger to your allies than the enemy. This isn't some schoolyard bully in need of a thrashing. This is a well-disciplined and experienced army.”

“Well, I…” Apple Bloom muttered before falling silent.

“There ain't much you can do here, sprout,” Big Macintosh declared. “Yer sister has trained a bunch with her friends, and I’ve spent the last few winters as a guard.”

“Besides. You have to take care of Granny Smith, right?” Applejack asked, glancing expectantly at the older farmer.

Granny Smith winced and clutched her lower back with a hoof. “Oh, my hip’s acting up. I don't know if I’m going to get out of here unless you pull that there cart, Apple Bloom.”

“I know what you're doing. Not like it matters because I guess you're right or whatever,” Apple Bloom muttered.

“Darn tootin’ we are,” Applejack declared.

“Now bring it on in. I want one last hug before y'all go,” Big Macintosh exclaimed, opening his forehooves wide.

“Oh alright, you big sap,” The young pony then hugged her brother tightly before moving onto Applejack. “Don't worry. I’ll look after Granny.”

“I know you will,” Applejack exclaimed.

The pair then embraced one another tightly before Apple Bloom quickly extracted herself and ran over to the front of the cart. As she hooked herself into the straps, Granny Smith trotted over to Applejack and gave her a tight hug as well.

“Be safe now, y’all,” she whispered, pulling Big Macintosh in as well. “And don't you worry none. One way or the other, the Apple family always survives. It's what we do.”

“Thank you, Granny,” Applejack whispered.

“We’ll see you again soon,” Big Macintosh offered.

“See to it that you do,” Granny Smith stepped back. “I just got my farm back, and I’m going to need a pair of strapping youngins like yourself to help me harvest it all.”

“We’ll come back to ya. Ain't that right Mac?” Applejack asked.

The wolf-like stallion nodded. “Eeyup.”

Sunset Shimmer trotted down another flight of stairs and paused at the bottom, her horn glowing. A moment later, a flat circle of numbers, letters, and words appeared above her hoof.

“Hmm, a bit of an elevated heart rate but other than that it's all in order,” Sunset Shimmer muttered. “Probably just getting intimate or something.”

Shaking her head, Sunset Shimmer dismissed the brief bout of envy and focused on the path before her. Traveling deeper, the undead unicorn made her way through the labyrinth of stairs and layers before finally reaching her target. The final door was far larger than the others and had a bored-looking skeleton standing in front of it, the pony leaning on her halberd.

Upon spotting Sunset, Sharp Eye perked up and immediately departed her post. “Do you require assistance?” she offered.

“No. Twilight was just setting up this big dinner thing, and I was going to invite Beaker as well as yourself,” Sunset Shimmer replied, trotting up to the other undead mare.

Sharp Eye cocked her head slightly. “She does know that all three of us are undead, right? And not like, half undead like her, but dead undead.”

Sunset Shimmer chuckled to herself. “Yes, I do believe Twilight knows that. I think she's planning something and wants an excuse to gather us all one final time before the big battle.”

“Ahh, yes, that will be tomorrow,” Sharp Eye murmured. “I do hope this Twilight is at least half as brilliant as the one I knew.”

“I can't be certain, but I feel like she is,” Sunset replied.

Sharp Eye stared off into the distance. “I suppose we should wait for Beaker to return so we can pass the news to him as well. He should be back soon from his delivery.”

“He's been brewing more potions, I assume?” Sunset Shimmer inquired.

“He has,” Sharp Eye replied simply.

Sunset Shimmer hummed thoughtfully, the pair falling into a quiet that lasted for nearly a minute.

“You are… very beautiful,” Sharp Eye all but whispered.

“Th-thank you,” Sunset Shimmer mustered, her illusionary face turning a shade or two redder. “I, um, could teach you the same thing. I think.”

“I don't know if that's a good idea,” Sharp Eye muttered. “Unlike you, I was not a pretty sight.”

“I’d still like to see you. If I could,” Sunset Shimmer replied.

Sharp Eye’s jaw clenched for a moment before relaxing. “If that is your desire.”

Sunset Shimmer lit her horn. “Now, I need you to imagine yourself exactly as you were before you passed on. The clearer the picture, the better the spell will be, I think.”

“You think?” Sharp Eye inquired.

“I’m not sure,” Sunset admitted. “I’ve really only had the last ten or so minutes to try and replicate the spell. Though I think I’ve got it.”

Sharp Eye nodded slowly. “Then you may continue.”

“Thank you. I hope to replicate it for others like us. I know how much disconcerting our forms can be,” Sunset Shimmer muttered, her horn glowing brighter as a flat circle of runes appeared above the glowing appendage.

“It never bothered me,” Sharp Eye declared. “Though I suppose I could see why some may find it uncomfortable.”

“You didn't think about what it would be like to get your old body back during your long stay down here?” Sunset Shimmer inquired.

“It passed my mind a few times, but not frequently,” Sharp Eye tilted her head upward and stared off into space. “It was strange, standing here for so long. I barely noticed the passage of years. There was just this all-consuming demand to remain outside and guard against intruders long dead.”

“Was it lonely?” Sunset Shimmer whispered.

Sharp Eye shook her head. “No. It was like… being asleep, only my eyes were open.”

“Did you dream at all?” Sunset Shimmer pressed.

“All the time,” Sharp Eye muttered in a slightly wistful tone. “I would find my mind drifting to the past, to my home village, and my time in the guard. I must have relived my life a dozen times over the years.”

The skeleton released a dry chuckle.

“That's good,” Sunset Shimmer declared, her magic pulsing briefly before shifting and losing a bit of its power. “Without something to occupy the mind, you likely would have gone mad down here.”

“Nothing quite so dramatic, I’m afraid,” Sharp Eye replied. “It was just… quiet. When I saw Twilight and her friends, everything changed, and for the first time in what turned out to be centuries, I was able to think again.”

“Only a few more seconds. Try to hold that image as firmly as you can,” Sunset Shimmer declared.

“Okay. I am,” Sharp Eye stated.

Sunset Shimmer closed her eyes and focused everything she had on the spell, her horn glowing brilliantly. Then, with a flash of nearly blinding light, the spell took form, becoming a series of rune-filled rings that fell over Sharp Eye. These strange hoops spun around her while also moving up and down at a slow, but steady pace.

“Just keep focusing and try not to move,” Sunset reminded Sharp Eye.

The guard required no prompting and remained still until the circles widened, covering her entire body in a shimmering veil. One which soon dulled and began to split like a curtain being cut, falling away to reveal Sharp Eye’s new, yet old visage. Unlike Sunset Shimmer, whose illusionary form was nude, Sharp Eye appeared to be wearing a full suit of royal purple armor.

Much like the rusted mail she had long since discarded, this new set encapsulated her body completely. Heavy greaves covered her hooves, thick plates obscured nearly everything, all save for her head, which lacked a helmet. Unadorned by semi-real armor, the undead pony’s face was completely visible, as well as the nervous expression on her face.

A face that was scarred and aged, beaten by the passage of time, as well as more than a few close calls. The remnants of mostly healed stitches could be seen along her neck, while a deep scar was visible down her face. Starting above her left eye and traveling down the guard’s face, it ended below her right eye, only an inch or so below the orb itself.

Not only that, but she was missing the majority of her right ear, a fact which was plainly visible due to her mane style. Which had been cut very short along the sides, while the top had been allowed to grow long and had been bound in a tight braid. This matched her tail, which too had been braided, though it hadn't been allowed to grow even as long as her mane.

Sunset looked on in a mixture of shock and awe, studying each small detail in the guard’s weathered features. Nothing seemed to be left out, the pony evidently having committed every last bit of her reflection to memory. Allowing Sunset Shimmer to gaze upon the other mare’s strong chin and chiseled features with increasing curiosity.

“You’re… handsome,” Sunset Shimmer murmured.

“I… thank you,” Sharp Eye muttered, the mare’s face contorting in embarrassment. “I’m amazed you think that about such an old mare like myself.”

“I don't think age means much to people like us,” Sunset Shimmer pointed out.

“Still. You don't look a day older than twenty-eight,” Sharp Eye offered.

“I’m at least a hundred, though I could be as old as a hundred and thirty,” Sunset Shimmer offered.

Sharp Eye frowned and remained silent for several long seconds. “Once this is over, do you think we could…”

“We could,” Sunset Shimmer replied after several moments of quiet. “I warn you though. I’m a bit… broken.”

“Time heals all wounds, and what is time to ones like us?” Sharp Eye offered.

Sunset Shimmer smiled. “Very true.”

“Oh, uh, I’m not intruding, am I?” asked a voice. “Oh wow, you two have like, illusions now. Very, um, cool as they say nowadays.”

The two mares turned towards Beaker and smiled at the nervous skeleton standing before them. The male wore heavy layers of padding over his torso, allowing him to sport a jacket with many, many pockets. Though that was where his attempts to appear alive ended, as he had no other clothing or layers.

“Thank you, Beaker,” Sharp Eye muttered.

“You weren't intruding. We were just… practicing a spell,” Sunset Shimmer added.

“Neat. What are you doing down here anyway?” Beaker inquired, trotting right up to the two mares.

“Twilight is organizing a get-together and has requested our presence,” Sharp Eye stated.

“Oh uh, that's good,” Beaker muttered. “I suppose we should get moving then.”

“We should, and quit feeling guilty. We’ve all forgiven you,” Sharp Eye declared.

“Yes, Miss Sharp Eye!” Beaker exclaimed, eagerly trotting towards the exit.

“We’ll, uh, talk more after the battle,” Sunset Shimmer whispered.

Sharp Eye smiled. “I would like that.”

Rarity paced back and forth, her many legs skittering loudly against the polished floor. The edge of one of her hooves was stuck in her mouth, the arachne chewing anxiously on the appendage. Before her stood Sweetie Belle, the younger female wearing a backpack stuffed to the point of nearly bursting at the seams.

She was joined by a slightly nervous arachne with a yellow coat so light that it was nearly white. Standing a full head shorter than Rarity, this other female wasn't quite as agitated as her employer, though she did occasionally touch the collar she wore. The slim piece of folded cloth was a soft purple and had a slip of red cloth tied around the front, holding it all together. She also ran a hoof through her soft two-toned mane of straight cut teal hair, smoothing out the fraying edges.

“It's fine, really,” murmured the smaller of the two adults. “She has everything she needs.”

“Yeah, I mean. I got enough food for a week, and more clothes than I know what to do with,” Sweetie Belle added.

“I know, but perhaps another dress would be for the best. Something formal, in case you get invited to a fancy event,” Rarity offered.

Sweetie Belle frowned. “I don't think that's very likely.”

“But it might!” Rarity exclaimed. “We should go back to your room and try out a few options.”

“Rarity, she already has three dresses,” murmured the other adult.

“I know, Coco, but think about how embarrassing it would be if…” Rarity stumbled briefly before loudly continuing, “If she gets approached by an officer who invites her to a charity event for the refugees.”

“That's a little far-fetched, don't you think?” Coco pressed.

“Yeah. Besides, you guys are like gonna win and stuff, so I’ll be back in like two days,” Sweetie Belle declared.

“Yes, but we must prepare just in case!” Rarity declared. “Quick, grab another back bag and meet me in your room. We need to pick out a wider range of clothes.”

“Look, Miss Rarity, I really appreciate you helping me out of my contract with that greedy dragon Suri, but we have to get going soon,” Coco exclaimed. “The last group is leaving in mere minutes, and I really don't want to get left behind.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sweetie Belle added. “As much as I want to stay here with you and help, I know that it's better left to the professionals. And you, I guess.”

“Now, Sweetie Belle, we must be prepared, and I will not have my sister prancing off to who knows where without a proper wardrobe,” Rarity retorted.

Coco sighed. “If you’re worried about someone looking after Sweetie, I told you I got it. I won't leave her. I promise.”

“Oh, I know, darling,” Rarity began, her hoof touching Coco’s shoulder. “But I really am just trying my best to set Sweetie Belle up.”

“Yeah, for failure,” Sweetie Belle muttered.

“W-what?” Rarity exclaimed in shock.

“Rarity. If you guys win, it will only be a day and a bit before the town comes back,” Sweetie Belle replied. “You keep demanding I take more and more clothes, but I won’t need them. You, Spike, and the others aren't going anywhere.”

Rarity sighed and turned to Sweetie Belle, gripping the younger arachne by the shoulders. “I know I am doting on you a bit much, but we have to consider the possibility that… that I won’t make it out of this.”

Sweetie Belle scoffed. “Did you see Spike’s giant other body? I bet he could beat those guys with a single claw.”

“Well, he is still mostly buried,” Rarity muttered.

“But he's not alone,” Coco added. “You’ve also got a bunch of crazy necromancers. I heard the guard captain’s old order, the Black Rose will be joining you guys.”

“I get it,” Rarity declared, holding up a hoof. “We have a bunch of very awesome people on our side. But I am just planning in case of an emergency, and if you fail to plan, you are planning to fail.”

“I know we will win,” Sweetie Belle declared. “And I too am reminded of a quote. If you don't plan for success, you plan for failure.”

Rarity frowned and stared long and hard at her younger sibling. “Just… just be careful, okay? I don't know what I would do without you.”

“Don't start crying. You’ll make me cry,” Sweetie Belle replied.

Rarity hugged her sister tightly, tears beginning to bud at the corner of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle, but that's something you’ll just have to plan for.”

Sweetie Belle buried her face in the crook of the larger pony’s arm and sighed. “It's okay, I forgive you… mom.”

“Knock, knock!” Pinkie Pie called, banging her hoof against the already open door of Zecora’s small house. “Is anyone home?”

“Yes, there is someone here. Whatever do you need, dear?” Zecora replied.

The zebra leaned around the large cauldron which occupied the center of the main room. Now that the zebra was unobscured by the deep black smoke billowing out from the enormous pot, Pinkie Pie noticed that Zecora appeared paler than usual. Her stripes stuck out considerably, and splotches of discoloration could be seen all across her fur.

“Oh, I was just checking in with you before the big fight tomorrow,” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “Twilight and the others were going to have dinner together, and I thought we could catch up.”

“It warms my heart to find you catch up with me, but I am more curious as to how things are with thee,” Zecora exclaimed. “The battle to come will define a generation and determine if we still have a nation.”

Pinkie Pie kicked the door shut behind her and flopped down into a waiting pile of fluffy pink pillows. “I know it's going to get pretty crazy, but I can't help but feel optimistic about it, ya know?” Pinkie Pie offered, rolling onto her back and extending her hooves towards the roof. “We have so many cool people on our side that we gotta win. Ya know?”

“Though our situation is bleak, our allies are quite unique,” Zecora exclaimed.

The zebra reached into one of the bags that hung from strings on the ceiling and plucked a handful of greenish powder. Which she then threw into the pot, immediately smothering the smoke and causing the mixture to gain an emerald hue. A few more turns of an enormous ladle and the cauldron’s contents had been stifled, returning to a low simmer.

“Though I wonder if in your plan there was room for your clan,” Zecora offered. “I know their letters you have spurred, refusing to send back your word.”

Pinkie Pie winced and rubbed the back of her neck. “I don't want to worry them, you know? I’d rather respond to their letters after all the fighting is over. Mom always loses sleep whenever she hears about what's going on in Ponyville.”

“I know you don't want to hurt those at the farm, but don't you think silence is a sort of harm?” Zecora pressed.

“I guess,” Pinkie Pie admitted. “But it doesn't matter now. Even if I sent a letter right this second, it wouldn't get there until after the fighting is over.”

“Then take this moment to rejoice, for I have taken away your choice,” Zecora exclaimed.

“What do you…” Pinkie Pie stopped just when her hooves began to twitch, and she spun around to face the door to the small cabin. “They wouldn't come here, not knowing what is about to happen.”

“You, my student, are being dumb. Of course your family would come,” Zecora declared. “Now go out there and say hello, don't dither in her and be slow.”

Pinkie Pie hopped out of her bed of cushions and pointed at the zebra. “I will, but after this, we are going to have a long talk about boundaries, missy.”

“That is something I can accept, upon your hooves I have stepped,” Zecora replied.

Pinkie Pie snorted and sprinted towards the exit, throwing open the door to reveal that her siblings were standing outside. Ranging from a little shorter than Pinkie Pie herself to towering over the troll by a good head and shoulders, her sisters varied greatly in size. The shortest of which was Marble, and the tallest of whom was Maud, with Limestone being nearly the same height as Pinkie Pie.

Marble Pie was a bit shorter and had a slimmer, more demure build when compared to her siblings. The rocky growths most trolls were known for were mostly absent from the young female’s form. All save for a foot wide square on her chest and right side that had both been polished to a resplendent, off-white shine.

Besides that, her fur was a soft grey and nearly the same color as her mane which was a few shades darker. The hair upon her head was also quite long and combed over to one side, obscuring the majority of her face. All save for a single deep purple eye that peered nervously at the pink troll standing before her.

Unlike her sibling, Limestone Pie looked downright furious, her bright lemon-colored eyes glaring intently at Pinkie Pie. Her mane and tail were also much shorter and much lighter, having a light grey hue rather than the darker color of her younger sibling. She was also covered from head to hoof in rocky protrusions that were downright jagged in most instances.

The white and grey masses stuck out an inch or two from her flesh, and likely would have made wearing clothes difficult. Like the rest of her siblings, she wore a pair of saddlebags which were draped over her sides and stuffed full of supplies. Even that seemed to be difficult for the pony as the strap which bound the bags together had been nearly cut by a spike rising from her back.

Maud was a different story altogether, as the troll was completely expressionless and merely stared straight ahead. Her slightly flat purple mane was cut short at the front but like her tail, the back was allowed to grow a little bit longer. Like her siblings, save Pinkie, Maud sported a neutral fur color that was the most greyish grey of the bunch

She did have her differences though, like her seafoam colored eyes and the fact that she wore a rather utilitarian blue dress. She also sported no stony protrusions, but what looked like shiny plates seemingly bolted to her flesh through unknown means. Little of her fur was actually visible, as the strange metal covered her almost completely, leaving just enough room for her eyes, nose, and mouth.

“Pinkie Pie,” Maud deadpanned.

The pink troll winced. “I know, I know. I should have sent you a letter.”

“You damn right you should have,” Limestone declared. “You’re just lucky that Zecora didn't send a letter sooner, or else mom and dad would have made the trip as well.”

Pinkie Pie shuddered.

“Are you okay though? They aren't running you too ragged, are they?” Marble gently inquired.

“No, I’m fine,” Pinkie Pie exclaimed.

“Good, because when I’m done pummelling you, there won't be much left than a pink smear on the ground,” Limestone shouted.

“Limestone. Relax,” Maud exclaimed, turning her gaze towards the excited troll.

Limestone gritted her teeth. “You really should have told us about this. When dad heard about what was about to happen and realized you hadn't said anything, he was ready to disown you.”

“That's not a surprise,” Pinkie Pie muttered. “He already wanted to disown me for leaving the farm.”

“He doesn't mean it,” Marble added. “He’s just worried and doesn't know how to express those feelings in a constructive manner.”

“He sure has a funny way of showing it,” Pinkie Pie whispered.

“That does not matter,” Maud declared sternly. “We are here to help.”

“Yeah. Where are those damn sunsworn anyway? I’m ready to bash some heads,” Limestone proclaimed, pounding her forehooves together and sending small flecks of shattered stone flying all over the place.

“I’m here to help the wounded,” Marble added. “I, uh, finished all my nursing courses.”

Pinkie Pie sighed. “I guess there isn't anything I can do to talk you out of it, huh?”

“No,” Maud replied simply.

“Well then…” Pinkie Pie hopped up and pulled all three of her sisters into a tight hug. “Welcome to the fight, fellow Pies! Come, I’ll fill you in inside before I head off to dinner at a friend’s.”

“Well that was an abrupt shift,” Limestone remarked.

Pinkie Pie released her siblings and took a step back. “No use crying over spilled milk. Besides, if I butted heads with Maud, I’d need a new skull.”

“My head is quite durable,” Maud declared.

“So, um, will Zecora show us to the castle, then?” Marble Pie asked.

“Probably. But let's not worry about that right now. First, we gotta catch up,” Pinkie Pie began. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about all that grim stuff later.”

Fluttershy chuckled to herself as she floated down to the center of her grove. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that Mrs Raven. I was worried after I didn't see you for Sunday snacks last week.”

In front of Fluttershy, sitting on a low hanging branch, was an aged black bird beside which sat a slightly younger member of the same species. There were many other creatures in attendance ranging from bears to more winged critters and hundreds that fell between. Nearly every surface available in the grove had an animal sitting upon it, with predators and prey sitting next to one another.

The raven squealed several times in rapid succession.

“That's good that it turned out to be something so small. Though I’m sure Mr Raven didn't appreciate getting caught in that updraft,” Fluttershy replied.

The smaller of the two birds squealed twice and ruffled his feathers angrily.

Fluttershy giggled. “Yes, well, at least you made it out alright, and now you can say you’ve flown higher than pretty much any other raven in history.”

The small bird blinked several times before looking up at his mate with wide, proud eyes. The larger of the two merely squealed once and used her wing to bop him over the head. This caused a brief flurry of squawks that ended with the pair flying away together, both arguing, but happy nonetheless.

“I’m so glad that they both found someone,” Fluttershy murmured, turning back to the gathered crowd of creatures. “Now then. Who else was I supposed to help?”

A pair of vultures with white fluffy necks and small, beady eyes stepped forward along with a third of their flock. This last individual stumbled briefly, its wings wrapped tight over its stomach in apparent pain. Its fellows looked expectantly at Fluttershy, with the largest of the trio piping up and speaking in a flurry of short, high-pitched squawks.

“Uh-huh, so he ate something bad, and…” Fluttershy frowned, the dryad running a hoof down her face. “What did I tell you about scavenging on sunsworn?’

The two vultures looked at one another guiltily before swiftly looking away, their mutual friend in too much pain to do anything.

“Their bodies are filled with bad magic, and where do you think that goes when they die?” Fluttershy demanded.

The smaller of the two vultures raised a wing and squealed out a response.

“No, it does not go into the air, it stays inside of them,” Fluttershy answered, hooves crossed over her chest. “You're lucky your friend didn't pass away.”

The vultures looked at one another before hastily shoving their friend toward Fluttershy and squawking in a flurry.

“I’ll help him. I’ll help him, just relax,” Fluttershy exclaimed.

The two vultures stepped back, and though they didn't say anything else, they continued to shift from one foot to the other.

Fluttershy ignored them and focused on the stumbling, disoriented vulture who was struggling to stand without his friends. A gentle hoof on his back kept him from falling over while Fluttershy studied his chest closely, her eyes glowing faintly. After a few seconds of tense quiet where no creature made a noise, the dryad released a long sigh and nodded.

“He’ll be okay,” she exclaimed.

A collective sigh of relief was had by every animal present, while the two healthy vultures fell against one another.

“But I’ll need to pull out all the bad magic,” Fluttershy added.

She didn't wait for a reaction this time and merely pushed her hoof into the sick vulture’s stomach. Nearly half of the dryad’s hoof disappeared into the animal’s belly before she seemingly found what she was looking for. Fluttershy’s expression darkened, and her brow furrowed while her leg began to glow a faint buttery yellow color.

After several seconds of intense concentration, the dryad’s expression morphed into one of relief. She then pulled back her hoof, extracting a writhing mass of gold and red energy that twisted like a ball of snakes. The maleficent magic spat sparks everywhere while shrinking slightly now that it was outside of the vulture’s body.

Fluttershy squeezed down on the ball, causing the mass to compress into a smaller and smaller space. Until at long last it popped, sending a flurry of sparks in all directions before disappearing and leaving behind only a hoofful of black dust. Which Fluttershy threw up into the sky above, allowing the winds to take it and spread it over a wide enough area.

“There we are,” she murmured, turning her attention back to the vulture.

Who still seemed to be in pain, but was looking around in confusion. Upon seeing that their friend was okay, the other two carrion feeders wrapped their wings about him. After a brief hug, all three turned to Fluttershy and bowed, the two unconfused ones squawking their thanks.

“It's no problem at all. Just remember what I told you, okay?” Fluttershy exclaimed.

The vultures all nodded to various degrees of enthusiasm, the trio falling back into the mass of creatures and blending in.

Fluttershy cleared her throat. “Now then, who is-”

Fluttershy’s question was answered before it could even truly be uttered when a roar could be heard from near the grove’s edge. Barrelling through the wall of trees came a bloodied and injured bear, a small cub tucked under one of its legs. Though missing an eye and having lost a considerable amount of fur from recent exposure to intense heat, it ran with all haste it could muster.

The various creatures parted like the ocean in front of the prow of a large ship. Giving the bear all the room it required to sprint up to Fluttershy and hold out its still child up to the dryad. An arrow stuck out of the large cub’s midsection, its feathers stained red with the animal’s blood.

“Oh, oh my,” Fluttershy murmured. “Place him here and step away please.”

The bear hesitated a moment before complying, allowing Fluttershy to nervously begin inspecting the cub. It was larger than most young, and sporting a slightly deformed head that left it with one fewer eye than normal. Despite this physical abnormality, it would have been okay, had it not had a run-in with whoever had shot it.

Though deep and clearly life-threatening, the arrow was the only injury the small bear had accrued. It was a nasty sight, one which didn't elicit much hope until Fluttershy noticed that the small animal was still breathing. The faint and ragged rise of the creature’s chest kindled a rage in the dryad’s heart the likes of which she had rarely felt.

That righteous anger was guided inwards, turning into a bright light barely contained by the dryad’s meager form. This energy was shifted, splitting in two and separating into her forehooves, making them glow. With power coursing through her and the confidence that came with indignation, Fluttershy reached forwards.

Both of her hooves sunk into the bear’s chest, vanishing all the way until they nearly reached her shoulders. Her brow then furrowed once more, and she began to move frantically within the creature’s body, her hooves glowing brightly. Energy ebbed and flowed inside of her, the flow of magic nearly constant as she worked with an almost manic intensity.

Minutes ticked by as the adult bear loomed large a few feet away, a veritable swarm of animals hugging it tightly. Throughout it all, Fluttershy never once blinked, her focus unbroken and her efforts continuous. It wasn't until nearly ten minutes later when she finally pulled back one of her hooves and gripped the fletching of the arrow tightly.

What felt like the entire forest held its breath while Fluttershy readied herself before finally tugging firmly. With a single powerful yank, she extracted the arrow and revealed that there was only pink, freshly grown skin beneath. The projectile was tossed aside and crushed by the angry bear who stomped on it until not even splinters remained.

Fluttershy herself breathed a sigh of relief only after she noticed the small bear was beginning to stir. Its chest rose and fell with increased vigor, and its only eye opened, curiously peering up at her. Only then did she pull back fully and extracted her other hoof from the animal, allowing it to stand on its own four legs.

“There you go. Go on back to your dad,” Fluttershy coaxed.

The slightly deformed young bear placed its head against Fluttershy’s chest for several seconds before turning around. It lopped awkwardly into the larger bear’s waiting embrace, quickly becoming buried in a mountain of dark fur. With the crisis averted, and the young animal healed, every creature present celebrated, voicing their joy to the heavens.

Fluttershy merely smiled and trotted up to the bear. “What happened?”

The black mountain looked down from his child to Fluttershy before growling for nearly a minute, its pitch rising and falling.

“No matter how much you wish to protect them, sometimes there isn't anything you can do,” Fluttershy replied.

The bear grumbled quietly.

“I know it isn't fair, but at least your son will survive,” Fluttershy offered.

The large bear growledand stomped his foot angrily, gesturing back the way he came.

“I know, I know,” Fluttershy placated, forehooves raised before her. “The sunsworn are a menace, but they’ll be dealt with soon enough.”

This seemed to catch the bear off guard, and he growled in confusion.

“Yes, it's true,” Fluttershy replied. “The other creatures of the forest have rallied all we can at the old castle. There we’ll fight, and there we will beat them.”

Fluttershy’s jaw tightened, and her hoof clenched. “This I swear.”

Rainbow Dash stopped in front of the small, out-of-the-way room hidden within the depths of the night guard barracks. Tucked away in some long ill-used section of the castle, it was the perfect place for a group of thestrals looking for quiet. She found little in the way of silence, however, as nearly everywhere she could hear the sounds of celebration.

Glasses were clattered against one another, and toasts were shouted over the sounds of speeches or rants. Here at least Rainbow Dash could hear herself think, though it was still difficult on her sensitive ears. The castle’s acoustics were good, but time and weather had beaten down this section quite badly. At least it still stood and didn't appear ready to collapse like the section which held the Nightsworn’s soldiers.

One last check to her saddlebag assured Rainbow Dash that the bottle of mead was still there. With that done, she pushed open the door and was immediately greeted by a hearty shout from all four of the room’s inhabitants. Three of whom were stallions, the last being a mare, all of which were thestrals in service of the night guard.

“If it isn't Rainbow Crash!” exclaimed a large, broad-winged stallion whose face was partially covered by his moplike brown mane.

“Here to steal a bit of our booze no doubt,” added another stallion with an equally obscuring mane of white, though he had a darker brown fur and was a little shorter than his fellow. “You better hide it, Score.”

“Well, she can't have any,” declared the shortest of the three, a slightly rounded grey-furred male with a cleanly cut mane of dark black hair and a bottle of unlabeled booze in his hoof. “We only got the one, same as everyone else.”

“Nah,” proclaimed the lone other female who reclined in her bed and swirled a glass of dark orange liquid. “She’s here to check me out.”

“Pfft, you wish, Night Glider,” scoffed Rainbow Dash. “I don't want to deal with whatever swill they assigned to you, so I brought my own.”

“Hey, it ain't swill,” exclaimed the largest of the three stallions. “Dark Hallow busted out the good stuff for us.”

“I still think it tastes a bit pompous,” murmured the shortest of the bunch. “And it's not like we have enough to even get a little tipsy anyway.”

“Can't have you three drunkards hungover during the battle tomorrow,” pointed out the other female, her dark blue hoof running through her slick-backed mane of white and grey hair. “Not like we’d be losing much though.”

“Hey. We had the best scores in the guard and were top five even after Rainbow Dash left us,” the brown-coated stallion added, tossing a wink at Rainbow Dash.

Who rolled her eyes. “You say that like it was my intention. May I remind you that I did not leave you; I got reassigned.”

“Same difference,” added the orange stallion.

“Hoops, Dumb-Bell, you two are idiots,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “It's lucky you have Score and Night Glider to help you. Or at least Score, anyway.”

“Hey, I’m smart!” Night Glider exclaimed.

“Yeah, when it comes to constellations. Anything outside of that and you're as ignorant as a newborn,” Score pointed out, causing everyone else to laugh.

Even Night Glider, who chuckled briefly, before shifting over on her cot. “Take a load off, Crash. Unless you're angling to squeeze in with those three bozos.”

“And ruin the gay love triangle they got going on? No way,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, dropping down next to the other female.

“H-hey!” shouted Hoops.

“Give it up, Hoops. I’m pretty sure all of Ponyville heard about our escapades after the last Hearth's Warming party at work,” Score remarked flippantly.

“That did get a bit more heated than I would like…” Dumb-Bell murmured.

“Aaanyway,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, pulling the bottle from her bag and popping its top. “I gotta run in a bit, so y'all might have to help me out here.”

“Now that's something I wouldn't mind giving you a hoof with,” Score declared eagerly, sitting further up on his cot.

“Finish what you got, ladies,” Night Glider shouted.

With a combined wince, the four thestrals all threw back their remaining drinks and swallowed hard. They then extended their hooves, allowing Rainbow Dash to fill up their empty cups before she took a swig from the mostly empty bottle. For a moment they all took a sip, or a much larger mouthful of booze, enjoying it for several seconds or simply swallowing it without a second thought.

“Ahh, not bad,” Dumb-Bell murmured. “You don't have a half-bad taste in booze, Crash.”

“It's too bad your taste in mares ain't as good,” Hoops declared.

“Hey, Fluttershy is the best person I’ve ever met!” Rainbow Dash declared.

“There's no doubt about that,” Night Glider exclaimed.

“I’ve heard of robbing the cradle before, but never robbing the grave,” Score added.

Rainbow Dash sat back down, grumbling bitterly to herself while the rest of her former squad shared a laugh.

“For real, though,” Night Glider began, leaning forward, “we’re all real proud of you for finally shackin’ up with her. You certainly were eying her for long enough.”

“Yeah, well… it was complicated,” Rainbow Dash murmured.

“Knock knock,” exclaimed a voice from the doorway. “Excuse me.”

Everyone present in the small room turned towards the entrance, where a tall, spindly thestral stood. She wore the tight, form-fitting, and all-encompassing leather armor only seen amongst the members of the nightsworn. Though it lacked the usual added plates and chainmail undershirt, there was no mistaking her for anyone else.

“What is one of the nightsworn’s death knights doing here?” spat Hoops in a low tone, cup held close to his chest.

“I merely wished to share a drink with my fellow warriors,” offered the towering thestral with glowing blue eyes and midnight black fur. “Unless you don't wish to partake in my glow root wine.”

Everyone looked to the large, almost black glass bottle that contained a swirling mixture of shimmering dark blue liquid. The single candle that burned on a shelf illuminated the contents, its light reflecting off the many strange sparkles contained within. It was a mesmerizing sight, one which immediately made the mouths of nearly every thestral present begin watering.

“Err, yeah, take a seat!” Night Glider offered.

“Hold on a second. Are you sure we should be drinkin’ with her?” Dumb-Bell whispered.

“I don't see why not. We are allies, aren't we?” replied the nightsworn evenly, her tone vibrating strangely. “I suppose if you are unnerved by me, then I can take my drink elsewhere.”

“No!” Score shouted, only to quickly sit back down. “Err, no. You can stay.”

“Excellent,” declared the strange mare.

She stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and then plunked down on the ground. With a flick of her wrist, she retrieved a knife from her belt and plucked the cork from the bottle. She tossed the used stopper aside and was about to pour everyone a glass, only to see they were still chugging the contents of their cups.

All save for Rainbow Dash, who sipped at her bottle quietly, her gaze never leaving the newcomer.

“Say,” Rainbow Dash began, “I thought you guys were all undead.”

“You are half correct,” replied the taller mare. “We contain within us the spark of undeath. This hint of necromantic power gives us strength beyond strength and resilience found only in our eternalized siblings.”

“That's the word for your zom- err, undead soldiers, right?” Hoops muttered, hoof extended with empty cup held tight.

“Yes,” replied the newcomer through gritted teeth. “Though I appreciate you watching your words, I would appreciate it if you kept a more diligent eye on them. To dishonor the fallen is an insult worthy of death to some.”

“Err, sorry,” Hoops murmured.

“Apology accepted,” replied the other thestral, who poured him and the others a cup of the swirling liquid. “And my name is Mist Walker. Though if you feel comfortable, you may simply call me Misty.”

“Mist Walker it is,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed.

“Wow, this is very good,” muttered Dumb-Bell. “Like, really good.”

“I had heard that glow root was good, but I would have never expected that it was this good,” added Hoops.

“To think something could be so sweet, and still taste like wine,” whispered Score.

“You got any more of this stuff?” Night Glider inquired.

“Only the one bottle, I’m afraid,” Mist Walker replied. “And I would offer you all more, but your friend here received none.”

All eyes turned to Rainbow Dash, who frowned the second the attention landed on her. The looks on her friends’ faces were read so easily that their intentions may well have been written on their foreheads. Half wanted her to try, the other half wanted her to decline so there was more for them.

Though intrigued, Rainbow Dash couldn't help but turn to Mist Walker herself before a decision was made. What she found in those glowing orbs was a strangely prominent warmth as well as an earnest desire for companionship. Peering a little closer revealed that she was still a little nervous, her muscles tighter than they needed to be.

“Oh, alright,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, prompting a wave of groans from her former squad. “Just pass me a cup.”

Mist Walker smiled, having relaxed slightly. “Of course, Miss…”

Rainbow Dash snagged an empty cup handed to her by Night Glider. “It's Rainbow Dash, and you better not forget it.”

“I won't,” Mist Walker claimed. “I promise.”

“So, I’m going to assume that you don't know anything about cooking, and that having you in the kitchen is a bad idea,” Spike deadpanned.

Twilight blinked once, twice, then a third time. “I mean… I’m not very good.”

“That might be a bit harsh though,” Midnight offered.

Spike shrugged. “It's fine. My Twilight was an absolute burden when it came to making food. It took me forever to get her trained enough that she made a decent prep chef.”

“I think I can manage to chop and prepare stuff for you,” Twilight exclaimed. “I assisted my mother plenty back before my illness progressed and my hooves shook too bad.”

“That's good to hear,” Spike exclaimed, gesturing to one of the counters along the wall of the kitchen. “Then you’ll set up here. I’ll pass you stuff, you cook, peel, or otherwise prepare it for me, okay?”

“Got it,” Twilight exclaimed.

The undead unicorn trotted over to her spot, though she didn't initially do anything, merely staring off into space.

“And what would you have me do?” Midnight Moon offered.

“I want you to grab all the fresh supplies we have left. I want to see what we can make with it all,” Spike exclaimed.

“Got it,” Midnight declared.

The shadowy pony grew taller and used her newfound height to begin rummaging through the cupboards, pulling out every bit of fresh food they had and adding it to a slowly growing pile on the counter. Twilight, meanwhile, was still staring off into space, her gaze distant and unfocused on any one thing.

“So, gonna be a big fight tomorrow. Do you think we’ll win?” Spike asked.

“I don't know,” Midnight Moon replied. “I want to say yes, but so much is unknown about Celestia’s forces.”

“But I thought you saw all the reports we had on them?” Spike shot back, pulling various vegetables from their bags and placing them in piles. “Shouldn't you know all that?”

“I’ve seen the testimony and heard the opinion of your commanders, but it isn't the same,” Midnight Moon explained. “I need to see them fight with my own eyes if I am to truly gauge their strengths.”

“I don't think you have eyes,” Spike pointed out.

The shadow pony paused mid-step and shot the diminutive dragon a glare. “You know exactly what I mean.”

Spike chuckled. “Anyway.”

“Yes, anyway,” Midnight picked up, her hooves pulling open another cupboard. “I can get a good idea from the info gathered, but it will be interesting to see how they truly stack up. My knowledge of warfare might be a thousand years out of date, but I doubt this time period has seen the scale of battle that I have.”

“True,” Spike admitted.

Midnight Moon shifted over next to Twilight and reached towards the cupboard near the undead unicorn’s head. “Excuse me, Twilight.”

Twilight gasped and stumbled back, a hoof going to her heart.

“I’m sorry to startle you,” Midnight Moon quickly added.

“It's… fine,” Twilight exclaimed between gasps of air.

“Are you alright?” Midnight Moon pressed, leaning in close.

Twilight's already wide eyes only grew wider still, and she struggled to speak, her chest rising too rapidly for her to utter a word.

“Back up,” Spike quickly interjected, stepping between the two.

Midnight Moon obliged, stumbling away from the despondent undead. “What's going on?”

“She's having a panic attack,” Spike explained. “We need to get her some water and space to breathe.”

“Of course,” Midnight murmured, swiftly trotting away.

Spike leaned down and gently lifted Twilight from the floor, his eyes scanning over her slightly pale form. Her heart, long-dormant, now thudded in her chest, and a sweat had broken out over her entire body. Twilight could barely even seem to look in a single direction for long, her eyes rolling around in their sockets as she panted for breath.

“Just breathe, Twilight. In and out. Focus only on that,” Spike whispered calmly.

Midnight Moon returned a moment later with a cup of cool water. “I don't understand. She isn't even alive.”

“Yeah, but her unconscious doesn't know that,” Spike exclaimed, taking the cup and pressing it against Twilight's lips. “Here, drink.”

Twilight nodded mutely, sipping briefly before pushing the cup away.

“It's going to be right here when you're ready for more,” Spike whispered, placing the cup a foot from the undead mare’s midsection. “Now I want you to draw circles with your hoof on your other hoof. Can you do that for me?”

Twilight nodded once more, doing as she was asked without question.

Several tense moments passed before the mare’s breathing began to return to normal before stopping entirely. The sweat that covered her began to dry, and her eyes finally focused on a single point for more than a few seconds.

“I’m glad that's over,” Midnight murmured.

“A panic attack can last ten minutes or even longer. The worst effects have merely subsided,” Spike explained. “Are you ready for more water?”

Twilight nodded. “Thank you, Spike.”

“It's okay. I had to help my own Twilight with this more than a few times,” Spike replied.

“She was so strong and confident though,” Twilight offered before sipping more of the cool water.

“Confidence has nothing to do with a panic attack,” Spike declared. “Even Celestia herself suffered from such events before, well… you know.”

“I… did not know that,” Midnight Moon muttered. “Though my memories of Luna grow fainter by the day.”

“Those with great responsibility are the most stressed and the most prone to these attacks. It's not a matter of strength,” Spike continued.

“Thank you,” Twilight muttered. “Maybe I should step outside for a few minutes.”

“That may be for the best,” Spike replied, turning to the shadow pony. “Go with her. I’ll handle making dinner.”

“Do you have any tips?” Midnight offered.

“Keep her mind off what's going on and don't mention what started this all,” Spike answered.

Midnight Moon winced, glancing over to where Twilight was stumbling towards the kitchen door.

“You mean her mother, right?” Midnight whispered in a low tone.

“And try to avoid talking about the battle or death in general,” Spike added.

“Keep it light. I can do that,” Midnight exclaimed.

“Good. I’m trusting you with this one. Dusk has a lot in common with my Twilight, so she’ll probably need someone there to keep her from spiraling,” Spike stated.

Midnight nodded. “I won't let you or her down.”

The shadow pony trotted over to the unicorn, catching her just as she was about to fall over. They then walked out the door together, making their way outside and out of earshot of Spike.

“They are so much alike,” he wistfully remarked before turning back to the counter. “Now then. What the heck can I make with this pile of random odds and ends?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Midnight Moon asked gently, her shadowy hoof pressed against Twilight's shoulder.

The undead unicorn rolled her eyes. “For the third time, I’m fine.”

“Well, I had to be certain. I promised Spike, after all,” Midnight replied.

“I understand, but just trust me now,” Twilight exclaimed.

“Alright,” Midnight acquiesced.

Twilight smiled faintly as she reached for the entrance, pushing it open and stepping fully into the library. Leaving the empty, quiet streets of Ponyville behind, Twilight walked into a lively scene that immediately made her stop. Her friends and assistants were all present, as well as Cadance, Chrysalis, Trixie, and of course Spike, though the dragon was not seated like the others.

Upon Midnight closing the door behind them, all eyes landed on Twilight, and the room became quiet. At least for a single second anyway, as a cheer immediately went up.

“Oh, thank the stars you’re here,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “Spike wouldn't let us eat until you showed up.”

“It's rude!” shouted the dragon from the kitchen.

“How are ya feelin’?” Applejack asked, the mare’s voice carrying no pity, only simple and genuine care.

“Better,” Twilight replied, trotting over to the empty chair but stopping herself before she sat down. “I just need to grab something.”

“Be quick about it. Smelling this food without being able to eat is torture!” Trixie shouted.

“Take your time, darling,” offered Rarity as Twilight trotted away.

Spike returned a moment later with another large pot, adding it to the three which were already sitting out. A quick sniff determined that it was done and required only a pinch more salt as well as a ladle to make serving just a little easier. He made sure to check the other two large serving containers before finally seating himself and cluing into the conversation.

Nearly everyone present was chatting about something, having broken off into smaller groups to talk. Except for Midnight Moon, who was standing next to his chair, the towering shadow pony peering intently down at him.

“Is that… stew?” asked the ethereal creature.

“And soup,” Spike corrected. “There wasn't much I could do with what we had left, so I did a quick garden vegetable and threw in some spices.”

“It sure smells good,” Applejack murmured, the mare sniffing the air intently.

“Pfft, not enough rocks,” Pinkie Pie declared.

“You know you can just add rocks to your own bowl, right?” Spike replied.

“Way ahead of you, big guy,” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, the troll pulling out a bag of stones and dropping it onto the table with a loud thump. “I brought all my best-tasting stones. You guys want any?”

A chorus of no’s was accented by a single enthusiastic yes from across the table.

“That's if you wouldn't mind sharing,” Cadance added with a smile.

Pinkie Pie blinked before bursting out into a grin of her own. “Well, of course not. I wouldn't have offered if that was a problem!”

Spike hummed. “You know, now that you mention it, I wouldn't mind giving one a shot.”

“I got plenty to go around,” Pinkie Pie proclaimed.

As the gang began to eagerly discuss what exactly a tasting rock did to a bowl of soup or stew, Twilight descended the stairs. A small wooden box was held in her grip, one that she placed gently on the table before opening it up. Revealing six simple gold bands and a seventh that was adorned with a purple gem in its center.

“What are those?” inquired the gentle voice of Fluttershy.

“These are simple bands enchanted with a teleportation spell,” Twilight began, lifting the rings from the box. “Sunset Shimmer and I made them as part of a plan I was working on.”

“Oh, whuf dat?” Rainbow Dash asked through a mouthful of stew.

“Well, it's fairly obvious that Celestia’s goal is twofold,” Sunset Shimmer began. “One, to test her new golems, and two, kill Twilight.”

“It is still quite strange to hear that Celestia is evil. Why, it feels like just yesterday that she patted me on the back and thanked me for helping the previous Twilight with her studies,” Beaker remarked. “I mean, she did so with enough force that she nearly knocked me onto my belly, but it was still nice.”

“That is because you are weak,” remarked Sharp Eye critically.

“Regardless,” Twilight interrupted, “I expect that they will have some sort of plan to pierce the castle and strike me directly. With this in mind, I was thinking that when the time came, I could summon you to my side. If that's alright with you guys, of course.”

“Well, of course it is, silly!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “Why wouldn't we do our best to help our friend?”

“Yeah, you’re family now, Twi,” Applejack added.

Twilight smiled as the rest of her friends all nodded or spoke their agreement. “That's wonderful to hear.”

“We were hoping that by having you spread out where you were best suited to help, the commander, this Tempest pony, would grow overconfident,” Sunset Shimmer continued. “Allowing us to reverse things on her with mass teleportation.”

“I assume that it would work even for me?” Fluttershy inquired.

“Yes, it should work on you as well,” Twilight replied.

Fluttershy sighed. “Oh, good.”

“Not a bad plan. Though I would have chosen veteran fighters rather than your closest friends,” Chrysalis pointed out.

“I’m sure that Twilight considered that,” Cadance remarked before leaning towards Spike. “This stew is amazing, by the way. I’m impressed you brought out such powerful flavor from the rather lackluster ingredients.”

Spike beamed. “Thanks, Cadance.”

“I did,” Twilight declared. “I really only know how to fight with them, and I don't have time to receive real combat training with another group.”

“See?” Cadance pressed.

Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “Still, I would have gathered Dark Hallow’s best and simply stood back, allowing them to fight while you remained safe.”

“I can't in good conscience ask others to fight my battles for me,” Twilight winced and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, not all of them, anyway.”

“It is a good idea,” Sharp Eye stated suddenly, her calm voice cutting through the air. “You and your friends are more powerful than you seem, and together that power is increased tenfold.”

“Power alone does not win battles. I have seen armies felled by only a single, well-placed dagger,” Chrysalis remarked flippantly.

“This fight will not be a subtle one,” Sharp Eye continued. “It is one of raw, naked aggression and overwhelming force meeting one another in battle. Celestia is not the subtle type, even now.”

“On that, we agree,” Chrysalis murmured.

“Regardless,” Twilight picked up. “The rings should fit on your forehooves, either under or over whatever armor you will choose to wear. They will also heat up and vibrate just as you are about to be teleported to me.”

Sunset Shimmer used her magic to distribute the bracelets to Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, and herself. Leaving the one adorned by a single purple gem directly in front of Twilight.

“Ooh, the tingler. I think I saw this kind of thing in a rather risque shop once,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed while spinning the bracelet around on the end of her hoof.

“Don't be crass,” Applejack exclaimed.

“I think it looks nice,” Fluttershy added.

“Is that all the grim talk out of the way?” Spike asked while he walked back into the kitchen. “Because I found a couple of bottles of wine at the back of one of the cabinets and thought it might make a good addition to dinner.”

“Ooh, what kinda wine you got, Spikey Wikey?” Pinkie Pie eagerly inquired.

Spike returned a moment later with a large, dark bottle in his claws. “Chat’o Roth’s’child. Or something. I don't speak Prench.”

“Aged for a thousand and fifty years,” Applejack murmured as she inspected the label. “This could be good.”

Sharp Eye clacked her jaw in irritation. “Now I really wish I had my tongue.”

“I think I know why too,” Beaker added, whispering into where the other skeleton’s ear would be.

“Quiet, you,” Sharp Eye hissed, her illusionary self blushing profusely.

“Actually,” Sunset spoke up, “I have a spell for that.”

Sharp Eye chuckled. “In that case, bring on the booze.”

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