A Tempestuous, Pharyngeal Engagement

by Raugos

First published 5th of April, 2019

Tempest Shadow and Pharynx have a disagreement. It's love at first fight.

Effective communication is important in any friendship.

Unfortunately for Twilight, Tempest Shadow and Pharynx communicate almost exclusively in overwhelming force.

Chapter 1

“Your drill sergeant is an idiot.”

Changeling and pony guards alike froze as Tempest Shadow’s comment rang throughout the training yard of Canterlot’s keep.

“Uh… what do you mean?” asked Thorax. He leaned over the platform’s railings to get a better look at the company of changeling soldiers assembled before them, then frowned and continued, “They don’t smell, do they? We all made sure to wash up before coming here.”

Tempest snorted and gestured at the changelings with a foreleg. “Sorry to say, Your Highness, but your troops have no formation to speak of. They fidget, they daydream, I’m very sure that the whole lot of them have never used a spear or sword in their life, and their armour looks like roof shingles held together with wishful thinking. Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing to watch.”

She flicked her eyes over to the adjacent company of Royal Guards and added in an undertone to Twilight, “Not that ours are much better, but give me another month and I might get them at least on par with the Storm King’s infantry.”

“Oh, I see…” said Thorax.

He then threw a nervous glance at Pharynx, whom Twilight fully expected to go on a rampage, if Starlight’s account of his personality was anything to go by.

Nothing of the sort happened, though. Instead, Pharynx simply gave Tempest a sidelong glance, albeit an intense one that reminded Twilight of a predator sizing up its prey just before an ambush.

Twilight resisted the urge to bite her lip in public. She had to defuse the situation quickly, before it could turn into yet another diplomatic incident that could damage their alliance with Thorax’s reformed hive. Princess Celestia and Luna had seen fit to leave the task of overseeing the rehearsal and pre-rehearsal in her hooves, and she could not, would not, betray the trust that they had placed in her!

She carefully sidled forward and paced, making a show of inspecting the troops before inserting herself between Pharynx and Tempest. “Maybe we should give them another day to rest before conducting this joint military exercise.”

Tempest raised an eyebrow. “This is just the rehearsal for that. Which is also the rehearsal for the parade…”

“Point still stands!” she said, hoping nopony had heard her voice crack. “It’s not like the fireworks have an expiry date or anything, right? They can wait!”

Tempest snorted. “If a flight from the Badlands has affected them this badly, I shudder to imagine what they’re like on the battlefield.”

Placing a hoof on the railing, she bent her hind legs and gracefully flipped right over it, somersaulting once in the air before landing squarely on all four hooves with an impact that echoed throughout the training yard. Thorax and Pharynx flitted after her with buzzing wings, and Twilight scrambled after them just in time to see Tempest sighing as she righted a changeling’s grip on his spear, guiding his foreleg until the tarnished tip pointed straight up.

“It’s no excuse for their non-existent weapons proficiency, either. The one in charge of training them needs to have their teeth kicked in,” Tempest muttered.

A hush had settled upon the training yard, chilling Twilight in spite of the warm afternoon sun. The birds and insects had stopped singing. She could almost feel every ear turned towards their exchange, eagerly waiting for more damning words.

“Hey, why don’t you come over here and say that to my face,” growled Pharynx.

And there it is…

Twilight felt her muzzle contorting into her trademark stiff grin and brought every ounce of willpower she had to school it back to a neutral expression.

One toppled domino wasn’t the end, not yet. She could still fix this!

Tempest whirled around to face him. “Oh, so you’re the drill sergeant.”

Twilight attempted to hold her back with a foreleg, but Tempest moved with all the inexorable momentum of an iceberg, and just about as much warmth. She had to release her or risk toppling over in front of everypony, and she could only watch with a sinking emptiness in her belly as Tempest sauntered over to Pharynx and appraised him from horns to hooves with a critical gaze.

Despite the precarious situation, Twilight couldn’t help making a comparison when they were standing so close together.

Of all the changelings present, Pharynx most closely resembled their old forms in terms of colour scheme and demeanour. When he wasn’t standing around brooding in silence, he had a tendency to prowl around his brother like an agitated guard dog, just waiting for an excuse to use his fangs. And all three of his serrated horns only added to the effect.

Tempest was actually a little taller than him, though. Or she certainly would’ve been if she still had an intact horn. Still, the jagged nub on her head lent her a similarly intimidating look when paired with her scars. And her dark armour, now with some lighter purple trimmings and a facsimile of Twilight’s cutie mark embossed over the effaced insignia of the Storm King, was reminiscent of a changeling’s carapace. She certainly could carry herself with the same imperious air as Queen Chrysalis when she felt like it.

“To be honest, I’m a little surprised,” said Tempest in a bored, low tone, with half-lidded eyes. “You look like someone with a spine, so it’s quite disappointing that so few of your soldiers have taken after you. Just how long have you been training them?”

Pharynx narrowed his eyes. “Six months of pony style formations. Years if you count swarming tactics.”

“Ah. Still disappointing.”

Thorax winced.

Twilight chuckled nervously and waved to get their attention. “Okay everypony, maybe we should all just take a deep breath and—”

Pharynx cut her off with a sharp buzz of his wings. “I’ve got to say, I’m a little surprised as well.”

Tempest cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I was expecting you to take that back the moment you realised that you’d just badmouthed the king’s brother.” Pharynx gave his underlings a pointed look and turned back to Tempest with a grin. “But it looks like you’ve got some shell, too. Didn’t think I’d see that in a pony.”

Twilight felt lightheaded. She kept switching her attention back and forth between Tempest’s and Pharynx’s faces, silently praying for the steely glints in their eyes to peter out, but to no avail. She could practically see the bolt of lightning crackling between them.

Bad. Very bad!

The corners of Tempest’s mouth curled up just a little. “You sound like you have more to say. Go on, let it out.”

Twilight glanced around in search of backup, but Shining Armour had conveniently vanished, and she couldn’t decide whether to feel miffed or impressed that he’d chosen that specific moment to take Flurry Heart around for a stroll.

Then again, he’d probably anticipated the coming explosion and done the smart thing by taking her niece far, far away from ground zero…

She also regretted having given Spike a break only fifteen minutes ago. He was probably showing Grubber around the place and chatting up a storm with him about one comic or another, which was really unfortunate when she could’ve used him to send a quick message to Princess Celestia for help if things really got out of hoof.

A scraping noise drew her attention back to Tempest, and she felt more butterflies in her belly when she saw Thorax struggling to hold Pharynx in place with a foreleg hooked around his chest. Pharynx barely noticed the additional weight, and he dragged Thorax along the ground like an outmatched dog-owner as he marched closer to Tempest, until they were practically muzzle to muzzle.

His eyes flicked up – at least, Twilight thought they did; it was a little hard to tell with their eyes – to Tempest’s stub of a horn for a fraction of a second before he locked eyes with her once more. He then smirked and said, “I guess I could say more, but what’s your point?”

Several members of the Royal Guard gasped. So did Twilight.

Oh dear.

Tempest’s right eye twitched, but she otherwise remained stock still as she scowled at Pharynx, as if seeing him in a new light.

Twilight edged a little closer. “Tempest?”

All she got was a sidelong glance and a curt “Yes, boss?”

“I’m sure Pharynx didn’t mean it that way.”

Pharynx’s smirk widened. “Don’t worry, princess. She’s a sharp one; she knows exactly what I meant.”

Tempest’s jaw stiffened.

“Pharynx!” Thorax snapped.

“What?” He turned to look at his scandalised brother, then sniggered. “Was that too blunt?”

A thick vein pulsed on Tempest’s neck. She opened her mouth, no doubt to deliver some scathing remark that would escalate tensions until it devolved into an unsalvageable catastrophe of cataclysmic proportions.

But not on Twilight’s watch!

She feigned a cough, which unfortunately came out more as a squeak, but it still sufficed to belay Tempest’s volley of incendiary words whilst Twilight stepped forward to reassert some semblance of control on the conversation.

“I think we can all agree that there are differences in the way ponies and changelings do things, and that one may not necessarily be better than the other,” she said evenly, using a little magic to project her voice so that everyone could hear. A quick sweep of her gaze to make sure that they all were paying attention, and she finished it off with a smile. “We’re all here to learn from each other, anyway, so there’s really no need to get too competitive. It reminds me of this lesson that I learnt from my friends Applejack and Rainb—”

“Great idea!” Pharynx cried.

“Huh?” Twilight blinked and stared at him. “What?”

“Pharynx…” Thorax tugged on his brother’s tail with a hoof and groaned with exasperation and petulance in equal parts. “Come on, don’t be like this. Oh, I knew I should’ve insisted that you attend the last hug session before we left! You’re always a little cranky when—”

“Relax, little bro.” Pharynx yanked his tail away and patted Thorax on the forehead. “You just let your big brother defend the Hive’s honour and go read a book or something.”

“I’m a foot taller than you…” Thorax mumbled.

Pharynx ignored him and gave Twilight a toothy grin. “I think it’s a great idea. Since we’re here to learn fighting techniques from each other, and there’s no better way to learn than to do it…”

Twilight raised a hoof. “Now, wait a minute. That’s not what I—”

“I agree,” said Tempest. She no longer had that vein popping out on her neck, but Twilight got the distinct impression that her blood was still simmering beneath her coat—it was hard to tell with her colour. A grim smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she added to Twilight, “I would very much like to see how their ‘soldiers’ hold up against our own.”

“Oh, so you’re not worried at all?” Pharynx inclined his head towards the Royal Guards and chuckled. “We’ve already beaten them twice. You sure you want to make that three?”

“No!” Twilight stomped a hoof and leapt forward to interpose with her wings. “No fighting between our soldiers!”

She then froze upon realising that she’d drawn all attention to herself once more. Tempest and Pharynx looked a little taken aback, and judging from the way some of their subordinates had their ears laid back flat, she might’ve used a teensy bit of the Royal Canterlot Voice by accident.

“Sorry!” Twilight giggled nervously and fluttered her wings to shake off the jitters. She then cleared her throat and beamed stiffly at everyone. “Princess Celestia always said that it’s poor practice for leaders to criticise one another in front of their subordinates. They also shouldn’t use them to settle personal issues. It’s not good for morale and sets a bad example. We can do better than that, can’t we?”

Pharynx frowned at her for a couple of seconds.

“Listen to her,” Thorax pleaded. “Remember, we’re here to become better friends!”

Eventually, Tempest broke the silence. “Fine, I see her point. We shouldn’t make them fight for us like that.”

Pharynx met her eyes, and his frown melted away a second later. “You know what? You read my mind!”

Phew. Close one… Twilight’s facial muscles almost hurt with relief when she allowed them to relax. “I’m glad that we're all—”

“You. Me. In the ring. Now,” growled Tempest.

Pharynx nodded. “Rules?”

“Anything goes, and we keep going until someone says uncle.”

“Anything? You sure about that?” Pharynx sniggered. “You’ve never actually fought a changeling before, have you?”

Tempest shrugged. “I’ve faced celestial bears and survived. I think I can handle a colourful short stack like you.”

Pharynx simply grinned and licked his fangs in response.

Twilight felt an eye twitch. Several strands of her hair sprang out of line and curled into a frazzled mess as she sputtered, “What? But, but I—”

“Clear the field! Move your flanks to the perimeter and get comfortable!” Tempest bellowed as she spun around to face her troops and swept a foreleg out in a wide arc. She then trotted into the centre of the training yard and spared a glance at Pharynx before adding, “Come to think of it, somepony go get a paramedic on standby. Our guest will need one very soon.”

Meanwhile, Pharynx had dismissed his soldiers to the edges of the training yard with a series of sharp clicks and chirps, sounding very much like an oversized grasshopper to Twilight’s ears. Not that she would ever voice that opinion. He then switched back to Equine and hollered, “All right, watch and learn, grubs! This is how warriors do business!”

When a few buzzing cheers rose up amidst the murmurs from the company of changelings, Pharynx snorted and turned his back to them. Although apparently not the kind of support he had been hoping for, he still marched forward to face Tempest in the middle of the training yard with plenty of confidence in his firm steps.

They stopped with roughly ten metres of space between them.

Tempest rolled her shoulders and hopped lightly in place, rapidly shifting her weight from one leg to another as she tested the balance and flexibility of her armour. When one of the guards approached her and offered his spear, she waved him off without a word.

Pharynx simply cricked his joints and waited.

Twilight shared a helpless look with Thorax. “You got any ideas?”

“No, not unless you want to physically separate them,” he said with a shake of his head. “What about the other princesses?”

Twilight spared a glance back up the platform, hoping to find her big brother back in place.

No such luck.

Come to think of it, where is Cadance?

She couldn’t remember anything in the schedule that required her personal attention, so where was she?

Twilight hadn’t really asked if Cadance still harboured any ill will towards changelings since Thorax had befriended them, but maybe she’d made an exception for the one changeling who’d taken after Queen Chrysalis when it came to his opinions on pony customs… Heck, the same could probably be said about the pony who’d endangered her child and handed their capital on a silver platter to a crazed warlord.

Twilight briefly considered teleporting to summon Princess Celestia or Luna, but she then reminded herself that they were scheduled to meet with the dignitaries from Zebrica, Canida and Thestralia for tea. Interrupting them to settle a spat between Equestria’s and the Hive’s top military personnel would surely reflect very poorly on everyone involved. And on top of that, calling them this early was practically an admission of defeat on Twilight’s part, and failure was not an option for the Princess of Friendship.

Inspiration would strike. She’d find a way to stop it before it really got out of hoof.

Right?

“You’d better clear out too, boss,” said Tempest as she and Pharynx began circling in the middle of the training yard. “Unless you want to play referee.”

Oh, who am I kidding? This joint military exercise is doomed. This whole parade is going up in smoke. They’re going to send me back to Magic Kindergarten! Again. Forever!

Twilight deflated as she joined Thorax by the sidelines.

A gentle breeze stirred up loose leaves on the ground, but it did little to cool her with the sun glaring down critically—very much like her mentor would once word got out of the impending disaster. Beads of sweat slid down her temples and soaked into her coat.

Tempest and Pharynx circled closer and closer like a pair of sharks, until the space between them had shrunken to barely more than a couple of metres at most.

That was when Pharynx bellowed and charged like a bull.

Tempest easily sidestepped and hooked a foreleg around his neck just as he went past her, and then swept one of her hind legs out to trip him whilst she spun around, gradually bending her legs and lowering her centre of gravity until she had pivoted a full three hundred and sixty degrees with him in a headlock. She then released Pharynx and sent him skidding and scraping across the dirt on his chin and barrel, leaving a shallow furrow in his wake.

“Easy as pie,” said Tempest as she straightened up.

Well, that was fast…

Some of the changeling soldiers gasped and murmured amongst themselves.

Growling, Pharynx flipped back onto all fours and advanced on Tempest once more. This time, he approached her like a brawler rather than a charging beast. He feigned once to the right, then to the left, before spinning around to buck her in the face.

Tempest evaded both of his hind hooves with practiced grace. When he followed up with a rapid series of kicks, swipes and punches, she somehow managed to block, deflect or otherwise redirect all of them with little more than a few grunts.

Twilight could see Pharynx’s face contort with growing frustration whilst he hammered away at her seemingly impenetrable guard. His attacks grew more powerful and reckless with each subsequent strike, until Tempest finally ducked under a particularly vicious buck and delivered a swift punch to his midriff.

Pharynx tottered on three legs and clutched his midriff with a pained grimace whilst Tempest repositioned herself abreast of him. She then delivered a heavy chop onto his back and practically pancaked him onto the ground with three limbs splayed out and one trapped beneath his belly. His eyes scrunched shut.

“Pharynx!” Thorax cried.

Tempest prowled around him like a cat and drawled, “Come on, didn’t we just agree that anything goes in this engagement? Where’s the fancy changeling powers I’ve heard so much about?”

Pharynx peeled one eye open to glare at her, then spat out a chipped tooth. “You asked for it.”

He disappeared in a flash, engulfed in a ball of green fire which expanded so rapidly that Tempest’s pupils shrank to pinpricks for a split second before she retreated with a backflip. When the flames faded away, a black-and-purple, hulking beast that resembled a cross between a hornet and a scorpion greeted her with a screeching roar. Each of its five purple eyes glowed with bloodlust, and each razor-sharp point on its claw-like pedipalps glinted as it leapt into the air.

Tempest uttered an expletive and darted away when Pharynx pounced on her like a praying mantis. His claws punched holes into the ground where she’d stood, and he continued raining a barrage of crushing blows as he advanced on her like some macabre harvesting machine. Tempest zigzagged like a rabbit whilst the guards alternated between shouts of worry and sighs of relief as each strike narrowly missed her.

She soon ran out of space as she approached the edge of the yard, but instead of turning to run along the side as everyone expected, Tempest stopped dead in her tracks and executed a particularly vigorous backflip that launched her in a clean arc right over Pharynx. He skidded to a halt and reared up to swipe at her, but his clumsy attempt only caught air.

Just before reaching the apex of her arc, Tempest stuck out a foreleg and slammed it into Pharynx’s neck with a meaty thud. That was enough to overbalance him, and he toppled over backwards with a screech whilst Tempest kept a vice-like grip around his neck.

He slammed onto his back with a crunch, and since he was top-heavy and had a fairly rounded back, the excess momentum pitched up his rear end so that he nearly completed a full roll. And Tempest, having landed on all fours next to his head, simply reached up, grabbed his hind-most pair of legs and heaved with a furious roar.

Twilight watched, slack-jawed as Pharynx was swung upward and then slammed down onto his back a second time.

Stars above, where does she keep all those muscles?

Silence reigned in the training yard for a couple of seconds whilst a ring of dust billowed out from the point of impact. A couple of Pharynx’s legs twitched feebly and curled inward as he lay on his back, very much resembling a dead spider.

Then, a cheer rose up from the Royal Guards as the changelings cried out in dismay. Twilight turned and saw Thorax covering his eyes with both forelegs.

Tempest dusted herself off as she sauntered over to Pharynx’s head and said, “The bigger they are…”

Pharynx vanished with a burst of green fire. A black, holey limb then reached out with blinding speed from the dissipating cloud of flames and swept Tempest’s legs out from under her.

She landed on her side with a startled grunt and barely had enough time to blink before Pharynx bit down on her tail, swung her up into the air and slammed her into the ground on the opposite side. Her armour produced a metallic crunch when she struck the ground in the belly-flop position, and her breath came out in a fit of wheezes and coughs.

“The harder they fall,” Pharynx finished with a grin as he loomed over his foe, having fully reverted to the old changeling form, complete with black chitin, dark-purple eyes, blood-red spinal crest and holes everywhere on his limbs.

“Whoo-hoo! Go Pharynx!” cried one of his subordinates.

Twilight stared at him. He wasn’t that much bigger than the average unreformed changeling – from what she could remember anyway – and yet he’d somehow thrown Tempest’s full, armoured weight around like a ragdoll. Wincing, she self-consciously rubbed her biceps and made a mental note to speak to Rainbow Dash about that.

Is everypony seriously capable of performing these feats of strength except me? I really need to work out more…

A collective outcry from the soldiers drew her attention back to the yard, and Twilight saw Tempest back on all fours, mouth set to a thin, grim line as she jabbed, swiped and kicked at Pharynx with merciless efficiency. He couldn’t block or evade every single one of them, and he lost ground at an alarming rate in his attempt to get some breathing room, apparently too off-balance to even leap into the air and fly away. Any retaliatory strike he made, Tempest easily blocked, deflected or otherwise allowed her armour to absorb whilst she kept up the barrage.

Then, Pharynx stumbled, and Tempest capitalised on it immediately by putting on a burst of speed and ramming her shoulder into him.

He flailed for a split second in a vain attempt to recover his balance before landing on his rump. He then scooted backwards to avoid getting drop-kicked in his nether region, and just when Tempest loomed over him with a hoof raised to strike, he transformed into a sky-blue unicorn filly.

“Wait!” squealed the little unicorn as she pouted at Tempest with enormous puppy-eyes.

Tempest punched her right in the muzzle and sent her flying.

Oh no! Twilight started forward, then halted just before crossing the line into the yard. She gingerly folded her wings and reminded herself that Tempest hadn’t actually struck a child. Not a real one, at any rate. Even a hardened mare like her wouldn’t ever dream of it. Right?

The filly crashed to the ground and ate dirt. Then, after taking a few seconds to haul herself back onto her hooves and massage her bleeding muzzle, she glared at Tempest and growled in a squeaky voice, “Wow. I’m amazed that didn’t even stop you for a second.”

Tempest shrugged. “I hate kids.”

Twilight blinked. Note to self: keep Flurry Heart far, far away from her.

Filly Pharynx blinked a couple of times. “Huh. Me too. Should’ve guessed.”

They both charged at one another.

But this time, Tempest didn’t have quite the same edge over her opponent, for whilst she still had him on the defensive, Filly Pharynx was nimbler than her. Instead of defending against her attacks, he ducked, wove, scurried and rolled around her like a pegasus foal on a sugar high.

He also managed to land hits here and there, mostly anywhere from her hocks to her pasterns. None of them looked particularly injurious, but they still had enough force to make her stagger and stumble whilst she fought to keep track of the filly running circles around her. He nearly managed to trip her once, but had to break away from the tipping blow in order to avoid a crackling bolt of energy from her broken horn.

Tempest growled irritably when Pharynx ducked under her guard, rolled right under her barrel and smacked her armoured flank on the other side with a mischievous grin. He then blew a raspberry at her and darted away before she could grab him, giggling like a brat all the while.

Before long, their dance had taken them more or less back to the middle of the yard. And by then, the company of changelings practically buzzed with enthusiastic cheering, matched by a chorus of booing from the Royal Guards.

“Hah! Missed!” cried Pharynx after dodging another crackling bolt. “What’s the matter, are you blind as well as pointless?”

Tempest gritted her teeth as a shower of sparks spurted from her horn. “No. You are.”

“Oh? What are you—hmm?” Pharynx looked down and frowned when the ground beneath his hooves glittered with blue and teal sparkles. He then chuckled and said, “Mare, you’re going to need something a lot brighter if you want to—”

A sparse cloud of sand and dirt erupted from the ground, right into his face.

“Aargh!” Pharynx stumbled as he fought to keep his balance and rub his eyes at the same time. Blinking profusely, he hissed in her general direction and muttered, “Stupid little—oww!—can’t see a thing!”

“Open up your eyes.” Tempest slapped him away with a powerful backhoof to the cheek.

He crashed and tumbled to a raspy halt a few metres away. The changelings fell silent.

Tempest marched towards him, grimacing as residual sparks danced on the jagged stump of her horn.

Twilight winced in sympathy. Even for somepony who had gotten used to a harsh life, casting that much magic with a broken horn couldn’t be very pleasant at all. He really must’ve gotten under her coat to make her resort to that.

Pharynx, still in his filly form, groaned as he sat up on his haunches and shook his head. He had his back to Tempest, and showed no awareness of her approach as he rubbed his eyes with a hoof.

She raised her right hoof to strike but hesitated, perhaps giving him a moment to surrender, before bringing it down to pummel the back of his head.

Her attack never landed. Pharynx intercepted it with a foreleg, which he’d transformed into a giant crab’s pincer, and he did it all without even looking. Then, he turned his head a full one hundred and eighty degrees to give her a ghastly, clownish grin, with pinprick pupils and nearly every tooth on display.

Tempest’s recoiled with her ears laid back, but since Pharynx’s pincer had a vicelike grip on her foreleg, she ended up tugging him along when she leapt backwards. When she stopped, his excess momentum swung him up, over her head and onto her back, where he clung onto her armour like a giant cockroach. He then transformed back into his dark changeling form – save for the pincer, which he kept tightly clamped on her foreleg – and used her own hoof to repeatedly punch her in the muzzle.

“Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?” he cried gleefully with each hit.

“Somepony—nngh!—has to,” she growled in between punches.

Tempest whipped her head back and reverse-headbutted Pharynx. He reeled from the blow, and she continued bashing her head against his repeatedly until he lost his grip on her foreleg. She then bucked and tossed in an attempt to throw him off her back, but he stubbornly clung to her like barnacle despite being a little off balance.

Snorting, Tempest rolled onto her back to grind him into the dirt. But then green flames engulfed him just before they hit the ground, and he burst into a growing mass of flesh that coalesced into massive cords of muscle that Tempest practically bounced off of when they landed.

Realising the danger, Tempest tried to scramble back up and leap away. But the mass of slippery scales and muscle coiled around her body and held her in place, which left her sitting on her rump with her forelegs pinned to her sides and her hind legs sticking out from beneath. The coils slid along one another with dull rasps, tightening their embrace until her armour creaked in protest.

Pharynx’s serpentine head then reared up and flicked a forked tongue in her face. “Hey, you ponies like hugs, right?”

Tempest grunted and heaved, but aside from a little flexing her and there, Pharynx’s coils didn’t give way. In fact, they only tightened when she had to exhale, leaving her even less room to draw her next breath. She wheezed as she fought for air, and more metallic groans came from her armour as the seconds ticked by.

Twilight squinted. Something wasn’t quite right.

Not that having the life squeezed out of Tempest by a changeling turned python could be considered right under any circumstance, but something definitely was off about the scene playing out before her: Tempest Shadow had gone bright red in the face, which was saying a lot for somepony with her colour. On the other hoof, it was also not unexpected, considering how Pharynx was squeezing more and more blood into her head.

Then, Twilight finally realised what was wrong with the picture; Tempest’s pupils had dilated instead of constricting like one would expect.

“H-harder…” Tempest moaned as she screwed her eyes shut. Teal sparks fizzed and sputtered out of her horn.

Is she—oh… Oh my. Twilight nearly planted her face into the ground when her brain short-circuited. Then, she felt her face heating up with the fires of a thousand bad fanfics.

“That’s right. Go to sleep, little pony,” Pharynx hissed.

“You’ll… have to try… harder than that,” Tempest grunted in between gasps. “Night-night.”

“Wha—”

A brilliant, blue corona radiated from her horn and engulfed Pharynx shortly before blue lightning arced from her horn to his body. Pharynx stiffened at first, then shuddered and twitched as they traversed the full length of his coils with loud crackles and pops whilst Tempest sustained the raw discharge of energy with gritted teeth.

Twilight flattened her ears as the electrical hum grew in volume, and she clenched her jaw when it turned into a discordant buzz that made her teeth itch.

Then, Pharynx’s serpentine form snapped like an overstressed rubber band.

At least, that was the impression Twilight had of the phenomenon. One second he was there squeezing his prey, and in the next, she saw his dark changeling form catapulted away from Tempest, trailing tongues of green fire, smoke and the stink of ozone.

With a gasp of relief, Tempest lurched up onto all fours and tottered around for a couple of seconds before she finally recovered her balance. She then shook her head and panted heavily, gradually recovering her focus, until she finally fixed her baleful gaze upon Pharynx, who leered back and coughed up a puff of smoke.

Neither made a move to close the distance between them. Instead, they backed away to get more room to recover.

Good. They’re tired.

Twilight opened her mouth to declare it a well-earned draw, but paused when she heard a chorus of cheers rising from the Royal Guards and changeling warriors.

“Tem-pest, Tem-pest, Tem-pest!”

“Pha-rynx, Pha-rynx, Pha-rynx!”

Ponies stomped their hooves and changelings buzzed their wings as they chanted the name of their champion. They’d long since dispersed from their uniform lines and formed two broad semicircles on either side of the training yard. Bits exchanged hooves as their owners wagered on the outcome of the match. Twilight also had no idea how some of them had gotten their hooves on iced drinks and folding chairs, but there they were…

Tempest looked like she was about to yell at her subordinates for getting rowdy, but then she cantered in a horizontal arc towards her supporters with a grin on her muzzle and waved her fore hoof up and up in the air to whip them into a frenzy, like in one of those filthy boxing rings Twilight had seen in Klugetown. Their cheers swelled into a roar, and the ground shook with their thunderous applause.

Pharynx was doing pretty much the same on his side of the training yard. However, Twilight noticed that he looked physically healthier with each passing moment. His chitin had taken on a decidedly lustrous sheen, and he strutted around with enthusiastic vigour previously absent from his posturing.

Wait a minute. Changelings feed on positive emotions. So that means…

There should be a rule against this, right? There’s no way this can be a fair side effect for changelings participating in competitions with an audience nearby. Emotional support makes changelings stronger—literally! I need to bring this up to the Board of Equestria Games before the next season—”

A roar brought Twilight’s mind crashing back into reality.

Blinking, she saw Tempest and Pharynx engaged in another round of ferocious hoof-to-hoof combat.

Tempest, bruised and bleeding from several cuts on her legs and cheek, grinned like a wolf as she bucked, dodged, blocked and punched with reckless abandon. Each strike was stylish and needlessly energetic, meant to impress her audience as much as it hurt her opponent. Twilight had never seen her that delighted before, except maybe that one time during the Storm King’s invasion.

Pharynx, on the other hoof, burned through his newfound source of energy at a breakneck pace, swapping forms in rapid succession. Whether insect, mammal, reptile, bird or some gross amalgamation of all four, he bucked, clawed, jabbed and whipped her with every appendage imaginable as he scurried, tromped and flitted around, never sticking with one shape for long so that Tempest couldn’t effectively adjust her fighting technique.

“Twilight, what happened?”

Twilight yelped and spun around to find Spike and Grubber scampering towards her as quickly as their short legs allowed.

“My brother had a disagreement with Tempest,” said Thorax. He still looked like he would’ve liked nothing better than to cover his eyes and pretend everything was all right.

“Oh.” Spike blinked. “That’s not good.”

“Bug boy must’ve triggered her with a horn joke or something,” said Grubber. He then winced when Tempest elbow-dropped Pharynx in the belly and added, “It’s the fastest way to make her go Full Metal Bitch on you.”

Twilight rounded on the little hedgehog. “What?”

Grubber smirked. “It’s her street name. Used it when she fought for money in the pits.”

“How’re we going to stop them?” Spike asked.

“Do we have to?” Grubber produced a bucket of popcorn and stuffed a handful into his mouth. “I haven’t seen her this happy in forever. Want some?”

Twilight considered batting aside his offering, then thought better of it when Pharynx transformed into a manatee and belly-flopped right on top of Tempest with a blubbery smack. Sighing in resignation, she pinched a clump of popcorn with magic and popped it into her mouth.

“I’m going to need therapy after this,” she muttered whilst she chewed.

Spike groaned sympathetically. “So are they, I think. Ooh, that’s gotta hurt.”

Twilight stole a glance at the spires of Canterlot Palace in the distance and sighed again. “I give up. I think it’s time to let Celestia know—”

A metallic clang cut off the rest of her words, and she turned back to see Tempest tossing aside a metal folding chair with an indentation on its seat shaped exactly like a changeling’s head, complete with a curved, kettle-like spout where its horn had pierced it. Almost immediately after that, a somewhat woozy Pharynx then swung a mallet like a golf club and sent Tempest flying.

Where’d they even get those?

She got her answer a second later when a baseball bat sailed from the throng of guards and clattered onto the ground next to Tempest. The changelings responded by tossing Pharynx a volleyball covered in what looked spikes fashioned from changeling resin.

Okay, that’s it.

She didn’t care if she made an interspecies incident anymore. This had clearly progressed far beyond a reasonable duel, and the soldiers were also getting dragged into it. If she didn’t stop it immediately, it was sure to get everypony in big trouble once her fellow princesses got wind of it.

And then it’s off to Magic Kindergarten with all of us…

“Enough!” she cried.

Changelings and ponies alike froze at the sound of her voice, save for the two combatants in the middle of the training yard. Twilight took a moment to muster her courage, then marched forward with a shield spell charging up on her horn. If they would not listen, she’d just have to isolate them in their own bubbles until she could talk some sense into them.

“Hey, stop!”

Pharynx and Tempest didn’t acknowledge her. They had practically wrestled themselves into a tangled mess of limbs, growling curses at each other as they rolled on the ground. And the closer Twilight got, the queasier she felt when she saw that they were both covered in long, crisscrossing strands of green goo, most of which seemed to be oozing from Pharynx’s leg holes.

“Is this how changelings soil themselves, or are you just happy to see me?” asked Tempest when she peeled a foreleg away from the ground, leaving tufts of hair on the sticky smear.

Pharynx deflected her punch and twisted her foreleg. “No, it’s how we give naughty grubs a time-out. Or would you prefer a spanking?”

“Hah!” Tempest elbowed him in the muzzle to free her foreleg, then body-slammed him to the ground and pressed a hoof to his cheek. “Impress me and I might even let you try it!”

Wait, what are they talking about now? Twilight’s steps faltered, and she had to slow down to fan herself with a wing. Is… is it getting hot out here?

Pharynx snaked out a long, fleshy, blue tongue from his mouth and wrapped it around Tempest’s foreleg, slathering her fetlock with thick, glistening drool. When she recoiled with a disgusted snort, he reared up, caught her in a bear-like hug and heaved her over his head. She just barely managed to squirm and twist in order to avoid landing on her skull; her armour crunched into the ground on impact, after which she clapped both hooves into his temples when he loomed over her. She then took advantage of his disorientation by tackling him to the ground.

And so they wrestled on, further entangling and gumming themselves up.

By the time Twilight had had sidled close enough to precisely and reliably separate them with magic, she was treated to the rather undignified sight of Tempest caught in a chokehold, with her face squashed against Pharynx’s armpit.

Twilight sighed. “Okay, I didn’t want to do this, but everypony’s getting a time ou—”

Blue sparks flashed on Tempest’s nub of a horn, and Pharynx immediately released her with an uncharacteristically high-pitched yip. She fell back onto her haunches, then got yanked back into hugging range by the veritable web of elastic resin that had practically glued them together.

Tempest blinked a couple of times whilst Pharynx stared at her. She then raised an eyebrow, and her face slowly, ponderously twisted into a deliciously evil grin as she crawled closer to him, dribbling more blue sparks from her horn.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me. This is just perfect,” she purred.

“Get back. I’m warning you!” Wide-eyed, Pharynx scooted backwards on his rump and kicked at her. All in vain, since the sticky resin prevented him from getting very far.

Tempest lunged.

Twilight gasped as Pharynx’s agonised scream rang out through the training yard. No! How could she impale him—wait…

“Aaugh! No-no—stop! Get off me! Hah! Ha-ha! Grubbing pony—nooo-aah-hah-ha!” cried Pharynx as he flailed and flopped around like a landed fish.

He also punched and kicked his adversary, but between his furiously impotent laugher and the resin arresting any momentum he could bring to bear, his attacks merely bounced off her armour. Meanwhile, Tempest simply continued pressing her horn nub into his armpit, twisting and wiggling around like a boar snuffling through the ground in search of a meal whilst continuously discharging sparks.

“Coochy-coo, motherbugger.”

“Hah-ha-aargh! This isn’t—hah! No, I will not be—ha-ha-hah-herk!”

Twilight could only watch the display with her mouth hanging open. When she turned to look at Thorax, she found him stuck somewhere between cringing and exploding, covering his muzzle with a hoof whilst he trembled with barely suppressed mirth. At the same time, his wide eyes and flattened ears betrayed a significant degree of apprehension, probably at the wrath that Pharynx was going to visit upon anyone who dared to comment on this apparent flaw in his defences.

The rest of the stunned guards and changelings also looked torn between laughter and disbelief.

As if this day couldn’t get any weirder…

Twilight’s ears swivelled towards a loud buzz, right before something smashed into her chest and drove her breath out as a wheeze. The ground fled as the impact launched her into the air, and Spike’s cry of alarm rapidly dwindled to a faint murmur. On instinct, she flared her wings and flapped haphazardly, only to send the world into a dizzying spin.

Thick, warm and sweaty goo clung to her coat. She glimpsed parts of Tempest and Pharynx in rapid succession—a purple leg here, a bit of red fin there, pink hair everywhere. They didn’t even acknowledge the fact that they’d absorbed an innocent bystander into their sticky mass; they only had eyes for each other as they continued wrestling and butting heads in mid-air.

Colourful shapes whizzed by with blinding speed in her peripheral vision. Twilight could hear and almost feel Pharynx’s wings buzzing erratically as they corkscrewed into the sky, and she had to initiate several hasty teleports in order to avoid crashing muzzle-first into a wall or building.

Still, she could only do so much.

The world slowed to a crawl as they smashed through some wooden shutters, ripped past a thick curtain and then plonked rump-first onto a heavy coffee table, smack in the middle of Princess Celestia, Princess Luna and a group of dignitaries. Twilight’s eyes met her mentor’s for a split second, just long enough for them to widen with surprise as a slice of cake smacked into her muzzle, before their momentum carried her away and out the next window. The sticky resin brought the tablecloth and confectionaries along.

They then plummeted for what felt like a good ten seconds with the wind whistling in her ears before smashing their way through a roof and landing on a cushion of splinters, cardboard and powder. Muffins, doughnuts and scones rolled off into the shadows.

Twilight coughed and spat out a wad of cupcake as she peeled herself away from Tempest and Pharynx, blinking against the brilliant shaft of sunlight that pierced the roof. Clouds of dust wafted in the air, along with a mildly pungent scent that she couldn’t quite place.

“Well, I hope you two are happy, because we are so, so getting sent back to Magic Kindergarten,” she moaned. “Is this really how our best soldiers are supposed to behave?”

“S/he started it!” Tempest and Pharynx said in unison.

Snorting, Twilight then conjured a bit of light to get her bearings, and was greeted by stacks of crates all around her. Most were nailed shut, but a few had been pried open, and a couple of large barrels standing in the corner didn’t even have covers at all. She shook her head to clear away the dancing stars and frowned as she stared at the colourful rods, tubes and cones poking out of the crates and barrels. Some of those also lay squashed beneath the combined weight of their bodies, spilling their powdery contents all over the floor.

Her blood froze.

“Everypony, don’t move a muscle,” she whispered.

Naturally, Tempest and Pharynx chose that moment to butt heads and emit more blue sparks and green flames, which immediately gave birth to orange-yellow flares on every fuse and pinch of black powder they came into contact with.

“Of course,” Twilight deadpanned. She didn’t even see the point in trying anymore.

The warehouse exploded.

Chapter 2

“Princess, can you hear me?”

Twilight shied away from the light and curled up into a ball, groaning softly. She then hissed when doing so made her limbs throb and ache.

“Ah, you’re awake. That’s good.”

She blinked rapidly to clear the gunk out of her eyes, then slumped when she recognised the keep’s infirmary, with its orderly rows of steel-framed beds, beige walls, thin curtains and the faint scent of antiseptic. She was the room’s only occupant, aside from the batpony stallion garbed in a field medic vest of the Night Guard, who stood next to her bed.

“Who’re you? What happened?” she asked, glancing out the window.

Stars twinkled in the dark sky, interspersed between the towers of the palace and their glowing windows. Then, memories of the duel flooded back into her mind like tidal wave. She sat bolt upright and clutched at her barrel with a gasp, expecting to find herself encased in a full body, wing and hoof cast. But she only found her coat singed black in clumps, with a few shaved areas to make room for some gauze patches slapped on with medical tape. Her ribs and hips felt awfully sore, though.

“Sickle Cell, at your service, Princess.” He bowed slightly and smiled. “You gave everypony a fright when the fireworks blew up all at once, but it looks like your alicorn constitution and natural resistance to immolation kept you from experiencing the worst of the blast. Sergeant Tempest and Prince Pharynx weren’t quite as lucky.”

Oh no.

Twilight flattened her ears. She then reached out with a foreleg, grabbed his vest and yanked him close until their muzzles squished together. “What happened to them? Are they okay? Ooh, I am so, so, so banished to the moon if they aren’t!”

“Easy, Princess!” Sickle Cell cried as he fidgeted in her grip. “They’re not exactly okay, but all things considered, they’re far better off than they had any right to be. First degree burns, fractures, couple of dislocated limbs, a few missing teeth… nothing we can’t fix with the right spells, potions and some good old bedrest. Turns out that changeling goo is an impressive flame retardant, and it helps that they’re both pretty much at the apex of equine fitness. Anyway, they’re up in the next room and—”

“You kept them in the same room? And they’re conscious?” Twilight all but shrieked, tightening her grip on his vest. “Do you have any idea what they were doing to each other before things went boom? Do you?”

He cocked an eyebrow and raised a bony wing-finger. “Yeah, but they seem quite—”

Twilight didn’t hear the rest of it.

Space collapsed around her with a pop, and she materialised in the adjacent room with a deep breath in her chest and a shield spell charging on her horn, ready to yell for order and to restrain all parties involved if necessary.

But all of that air whooshed out of her lungs when she found herself standing in an empty corridor instead of the adjacent room.

“Huh?”

Somepony had intercepted her in mid-teleport!

But who could—oh.

Twilight turned and found Cadance standing right beside her, who forestalled the question in her opening mouth by pressing a pink feather to her lips and pointing her hoof at the window before them.

Just then, Sickle Cell came barging out of the doors to the next room with a worried frown, but he relaxed when Cadance smiled and waved him off with a wing. After a moment’s hesitation, he silently bowed and retreated down the corridor.

Twilight watched him leave, then hesitantly followed Cadance’s gaze to the observation window. It was a one-way glass that gave her a good view of the room’s interior, which was practically identical to the one she’d previously occupied.

Tempest Shadow and Pharynx lay on adjacent beds, alive and very much conscious.

Not many ponies got to see Tempest without her armour, but there she was, swaddled up to her neck in thick bandages instead of metal plating. She had one hind leg in a brace and a nasty row of stitches on her forehead. Her cheek had swollen up until the left side of her face resembled a ripe cherry, with the thermometer poking out from the corner of her mouth being the stalk. The medics had also shaved her mane down to a fraction of its normal length, presumably to restore some degree of tidiness to it and to get rid of the charred ends. Her tail had been similarly cropped.

Pharynx, on the other hoof, had reverted to his more elegant reformed form, although the term could only be applied in the most generous sense at the moment. He had split and cracked chitin all over his body, mostly on his legs and barrel. Some areas had also turned an angry shade of bright red, with the chitin flaking off or curling at the edges like warped bark. But instead of using bandages or stitches, the changelings must’ve seen fit to apply their own treatment in the form of green, semi-translucent gunk slathered all over those wounds. They looked very much like dried snot to Twilight, colour notwithstanding. Nothing had been done for his scorched and shredded wings and tail, though.

It’s a good thing that changelings can replace their softer parts with each moult, she thought with a wince.

Then, her breath hitched in her throat when she realised that they were looking at each other. And they were both smiling. At least, as close to smiling as their bruises and swelling permitted.

Giggling, Cadance nudged Twilight with an elbow, and then her horn glowed softly as she activated the room’s audial spell matrix, allowing its occupants’ voices to filter out into the corridor.

“—have any idea what it’s like to grow up lost and alone in a world that doesn’t care squat about you?” asked Tempest in a voice that was a little stifled by her swollen cheek and the thermometer in her mouth. “Don’t even get me started on how I literally had to fight other street rats for food in between sleeping in the gutter to avoid freezing at night.”

Pharynx snorted. “I have four hundred and ninety-seven siblings, and we had only twenty-three captured ponies between us for regular feeding. In pony terms, that’s like eating one raisin a day, and that was for nineteen years since I hatched.”

“Oh, poor you,” Tempest drawled with a mocking grin. “I simply cannot imagine such squalor, being able to put something in your tummy every single day… At least you had a home. Do you know what it’s like trying to sleep with a tick infestation sucking you dry?”

“Meh. Grubling.” Pharynx waved a hoof dismissively. “We’ve got pests, too, like quarray eels, and they can swallow us whole! You can’t see it now, but one of my leg holes was actually a wound that never closed up after I got impaled by a maulwurf claw. Top that!”

Tempest simply stared at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Right, horn.” Pharynx cleared his throat and gestured vaguely with his hoof. “Sure, physical trauma is bad and all, but do you know what it’s like to have a mother like ours? Some of my older siblings liked to use me as a punching bag when I was a grub, and Chrysalis laughed when I cried and whined about it to her. She even encouraged them to hit me harder, and she watched! They only stopped once I got strong enough to make them, not because my mother did anything. And, hey, the last thing she did was to abandon all of us because she didn’t want to look like a fruit – which is kind of fair, actually – but still! Emotional trauma!”

Tempest rolled her eyes. “There was this griffon who found me on the streets and nursed me back to health after I’d gotten beaten up by a rival for picking garbage in her territory. Once I was better, he sold me into slavery, and he didn’t even have the decency to kiss me goodbye.”

Twilight blanched and whispered, “What? She’s never mentioned that before!”

“Hush and listen!” Cadance whispered back.

“Out of curiosity, just how much did he get for you?”

“I don’t know, but it sure was enough for him to set up a business and move into a cushy mansion the next time I saw him. That was after I’d joined the Storm King.” Tempest’s grin came back. “And I was going to make him pay.”

“Ooh, do tell!” Pharynx chuckled evilly. “Did you break his leg?”

“No.”

“Tie his tail in a knot?”

“No.”

Pharynx raised an eye ridge. “Poke his eye out?”

“Worse.” She leaned closer and said in an undertone, “I made him pay. Eighty-percent of his profits had to go to the city’s orphanages for the next five years, since I’d been such an essential investment to get his business going. It was either that, or I could seize one hundred percent of his assets for the Storm King.”

He blinked. “Wait, what? What kind of revenge is that?”

“He’s a griffon. Most of those catbirds would rather gnaw their own leg off than give away money.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll take your word for it.” He then leaned closer with his ears perked. “And how did he take it? Did he beg? Did he grovel and weep?”

Tempest smirked and drawled, “Like a bitch!”

Twilight gulped as the two patients shared a bout of villainous chuckling, then gasped when she turned and saw her old foalsitter watching them with sparkles in her eyes. “Cadance, I know that look! How can you even find this remotely heart-warming?”

Cadance clasped her hooves together and sighed wistfully. “How couldn’t I? They’re such a cute pair!”

Twilight’s right eye twitched.

Is this what a stroke feels like? I think I’m having a stroke…

Eventually, their laughter subsided, and companionable silence filled the infirmary, with Tempest and Pharynx gazing contemplatively at the ceiling.

Then, Pharynx shifted uneasily and said, “Something’s been bothering you.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You taste… annoyed. Been that way for the last ten minutes. Was it something I said?”

Tempest raised an eyebrow. “How’d you know?”

“Changeling.”

“Right.” Tempest shifted the thermometer to the other corner of her mouth—which, Twilight realised upon closer inspection, wasn’t actually a thermometer at all—and huffed, “No, it’s not you. This lollipop started off as strawberry flavour, but it’s pineapple on the inside. I hate pineapples.”

“Oh.” Pharynx averted his eyes and twiddled his hooves for a couple of seconds, then gave her a sidelong glance and added, “Umm, so, if you don’t want it…”

Tempest snorted. She then took a moment to manoeuvre the lollipop around in her mouth before finally spitting it free. “Knock yourself out.”

It sailed in a clean arc over the gap between their beds, and Pharynx only had to lift his muzzle slightly to snap it up in his jaws. One crunch, then two and three, and he spat out the plain stick neatly into the bin on the other side of his bed.

“Thanks!” He then happily crunched and sucked on the sugary remains in his mouth.

“You know, that was the first time anyone was able to keep up with me in the ring,” said Tempest.

Once Pharynx finished licking his teeth, he grinned at her and managed a partial salute with his foreleg’s severely constrained range of movement. “Right back at you. We should do this again! Just you and me, in a nice, secluded place with plenty of rough terrain.”

“Oh? Is this a date or a rematch?”

“Yes,” he said without missing a beat.

She grinned back.

His smile then twisted into a pensive frown as he murmured, “If the princesses would even let us, that is.”

“Technically, neither of us has said uncle yet…” said Tempest, rolling her eyes up to gaze thoughtfully at the ceiling. “We’re honour-bound to finish what we started. I’m sure the princesses would understand.”

“I like the way you think! Where have you been all my life?”

“Kicking ass all over the world. You should try it. It’s very therapeutic.”

“Therapeutic, huh?” He bared his fangs in a grin and transformed his foreleg into a fleshy imitation of a snake’s tail, which he then waggled at her. “I think I know something else you find very therapeutic…”

Tempest eyed his supple limb – again with dilated pupils, Twilight noticed, feeling blood rushing to her own face. She then gave him a thin smile whilst crackling, blue arcs of magic danced on her horn nub, writhing like tiny tentacles as she said, “Down, boy. You’re not the only one who acquired vital combat intelligence today…”

Okay, I do not need to see or hear where this is going!

Twilight tore her eyes away from the observation window and deactivated the audio spell, feeling a numbness descending upon her. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense!

“Cadance, how long was I out for?” she whispered.

“Just under six hours. Why?”

“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I must’ve been in a coma for a couple of years. Who even are these two? How’d they go from beating the snot out of each other to, to…” – she jabbed a hoof at the window – “To that?”

Cadance beamed at her, which Twilight recognised as the precursor to a long spiel about interpersonal relationships that frequently meandered into well-meaning but very unnecessary constructive criticism about her own love life…

Her gaze drifted around for a bit, until it settled on a clipboard tucked in the crook of Cadance’s foreleg.

With a flick of her horn, Twilight teleported it out into her waiting hoof and read:

OPERATION TEMRYNX

Compatibility: High

Affinities: Violence, martial arts, snarky humour, sweet tooth, maximum edge

1) Organise joint military exercise

2) Propose Tempest as new drill sergeant

3) Invite Thorax and Phar—

Cadance snatched the clipboard out of her hoof and tut-tutted at her, smiling with a rueful shake of her head. “Twilight, you know it’s rude to grab other ponies’ things.”

Twilight simply scowled back. “You planned this.”

“Now, what makes you say—”

“You totally planned this, I know you did!” Twilight hissed as several strands of her mane curled and twanged out of place. “I was this close to having a Twilynanas moment, Cadance. Hay, I think I’m about to have one right now!”

“Twilight, I—”

“This political manoeuvre is highly questionable!” babbled Twilight as she paced back and forth, counting away legal problems on the tips of her wing feathers. “Not to mention risky! We’ve narrowly avoided war with our neighbours several times already, but this… this plan of yours actually encouraged active combat between two high-ranking officials of our nations! What if they actually started hating each other? What if our alliance got knocked up—back! I mean knocked back all the way to square one? What if—”

“Twilight, I’m awfully flattered that you think I’m that much of a scheming mastermind, but really, on a scale of one to Celestia, it barely registers as a three. Maybe a four, at most.” Cadance hummed thoughtfully and tapped a hoof to her chin. “Then again, it’s not a bad idea. Would you like me to set you up as well?”

“What? I, uh…” Twilight ruffled her feathers and snorted. “No! And don’t change the subject!”

“Was worth a shot…” Cadance murmured.

“What?”

“Nothing!” Cadance rolled her eyes and smiled. “Just look at it this way: what’s done is done, and there’s no point fretting over what might’ve happened. What has happened is that Pharynx and Tempest like each other, and it’ll go a long way towards securing a positive relationship between our species!”

“But… shouldn’t we come clean and at least let them know, so that this thing between them isn’t based on an actual conspiracy?”

“No, that would ruin the fun of shipping!” Cadance grabbed her shoulders, assaulted her with huge puppy eyes and wailed, “Twily, it’s not every day that I get to ship a prince, and of a different species at that! Don’t take this away from me-he-hee!”

Twilight balked. “But, but what about Honesty?”

“Another Royal Wedding! Think about the research opportunities once they consummate their marriage!”

“How does that—”

Undaunted, Cadance flared her wings straight up and out, then slowly fanned them down to form an imaginary rainbow. “Potential hybridisation! Maybe even a whole new branch of magic!”

Twilight sucked in a deep breath in preparation to yell, then held it in when an idea treacherously wormed its way into her brain. She bit her lip and shivered with anticipation when she saw it: a publication in the Royal Canterlot Journal of Arcane Biology, featuring a ground-breaking article by Twilight Sparkle on the first-ever pony-changeling hybrid…

Oh well, I guess it won’t hurt to salvage something from this.

“I want first dibs on any thaumic residue and genetic material when you inevitably offer them a room,” she said. “For science.”

“Done!” Cadance giggled and clapped her hooves together. “Ooh, this is so exciting! Don’t worry, Twilight, everything will work out just fine!”

With a resigned sigh, Twilight smoothed down her mane and feathers before casting a nervous glance at the observation window. It was almost surreal to see Tempest and Pharynx so relaxed in bed, and making small talk to boot. If she squinted just right, she could almost see them lying side by side on a grassy knoll, watching the sun set.

“I hope you’re right…” she mumbled, before a huge yawn parted her jaws. “I’m going back to bed. Wake me up if they start a war or something.”

Chapter 3

The long, forlorn note of a war horn echoed throughout the valley leading up to the Storm King’s fortress, shaking dust from the crags and jagged spires on either side. A dark horde of storm creatures had formed a defensive line up ahead in the valley, the remnants of his empire in service of whoever had seen fit to take control in the power vacuum resulting from his defeat.

Twilight watched from atop a rocky tor in the middle of the valley, which rose from the dry riverbed of gravel and sparse grass like the bow of a sunken ship at a gentle incline, granting her a near-panoramic view of the soon-to-be battlefield.

The clouds hung thick and heavy over the shadowy fortress itself, but the skies remained clear all around it, and the sun shone with almost cheerful intensity and warmth. Changelings, yaks and ponies of every tribe garbed in azure plate barding of the Crystal Empire marched to the lively beat of drums, flowing around Twilight’s rocky perch like an army of ants.

Suddenly, the drums ceased, and the imperial legion came to a halt with the crunch of gravel, forming a line that seemed to stretch from one side of the valley to the other. Their crystal armour and the tips of their spears gleamed in the sun whilst their banners waved in the gentle breeze. Not one of the soldiers said a word.

“Glorious, isn’t it?” said Cadance.

Twilight turned to her right with an incredulous question forming on the tip of her tongue, but she snapped her mouth shut when she saw that it wasn’t Cadance.

The mare in question was nearly as tall as Twilight, though a bit slimmer at the hips. Her light pink coat had the shine of lavish care, and her purple and blue curls almost reached her shoulders, faintly sparkling and waving with innate magic. She wore an intricate tiara of shimmering crystal, and she carried herself with all the noble poise of a princess surveying all that she owned before her.

Then, Twilight looked into her opal eyes and instantly recognised her niece. “Flurry Heart? You’re all grown up! What’s going on here?”

Flurry Heart ignored her. She didn’t even show any sign of having heard her.

“It is indeed glorious, Your Highness,” said a smooth, oily voice from behind Twilight.

Twilight spun around and leapt out of the way just in time to avoid bumping muzzles with the changeling trotting up to her. He was tall and lanky, with black, holey chitin, a long, jagged horn and diaphanous wings of dark violet hues. The rest of him drastically deviated from typical changeling traits; he had long, magenta hair which he’d tied up into a slick ponytail, his teal eyes had actual pupils – though of the slit variety, and he wore a variant of Crystal Empire armour which had ornate runes etched into the plating, minus the helmet. He also had a sheathed sword attached to his barding.

Another changeling came after him and stood by Flurry’s other side. She was about the same height as Twilight, and she had a colour scheme that was identical to the male changeling’s, in addition to wearing similar armour. Unlike him, however, she had her mane done up as a spiky pixie-cut and kept her tail cropped short. She also had piercings – all the piercings. Twilight never would’ve dreamed of seeing a changeling who wanted to add more holes to their body, but there she was, staring at an arsenal of studs and rings inserted into practically every available stretch of soft tissue in the changeling’s ears, brows, lips and even the base of her wings.

Twilight frowned. These couldn’t be their offspring, could they?

Flurry regarded the newcomers with a smile. “Exsanguinatus, Asphyxia. My most trusted captains. Is everyone in position for the final assault?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. Yup. Definitely their kids…

“Everything is in order, Your Highness. Just say the word, and we’ll flatten the lot of them,” said Asphyxia with a bloodthirsty grin. Her scratchy voice sounded like she ate razor blades for breakfast.

“As she said,” Exsanguinatus affirmed with a slow nod. “I look forward to savouring our victory in the fabled halls of the Storm King’s palace. I also hope his personal library is better stocked than the one in the previous fort we captured…”

“Ooh, this is so exciting. I can’t wait!” cried Flurry Heart as she pulled the two of them close for a group hug. They glowed and almost seemed to visibly swell with power in her embrace, and upon releasing them, Flurry rubbed her hooves together and grinned menacingly at the Storm King’s army as she cried, “Go forth, and show them what we’re made of! Soon, the last of these barbarians will fall to the might and harmony of the Crystal Empire, and all will kneel before us as besties!”

Asphyxia drew her sword with blue magic, pointed it forward and bellowed, “March, sons and daughters of the Crystal Empire! For the Empress!”

Exsanguinatus then took his war horn and blew out a long, booming note that reverberated across the valley.

In spite of herself, Twilight felt her heart swell with restless courage and determination as the soldiers marched forward with brisk and heavy steps, filling the air with the thunderous staccato of hooves and clanking armour. She even had to swallow the furious battle cry working its way up her throat and force herself to refrain from joining the assault as the twins brandished their weapons and flitted away to lead the charge from the air.

Meanwhile, Flurry Heart, Empress of the Crystal Empire watched from her vantage point with a smirk on her muzzle and murmured, “That’ll teach you barbarians to petrify Mom and Auntie Celestia and Luna…”

Twilight opened her mouth to protest the disproportionate retaliation, but her vision swam and clouded up before she could utter a word. Shadows darkened the world, and the sounds of clashing steel and magic dulled to a distant murmur. She took one last look at the blurry silhouette of her niece, and then gasped like a drowning mare as the darkness swallowed her whole.

“Flurry Heart!”

Twilight sat bolt-upright in bed with her wings flared out.

Her niece was gone.

She flung her blanket off and scrambled to the edge of her bed as she frantically parsed the lingering images in her mind. She had to find Cadance and Shining, to let them know that Flurry Heart was in danger all the way south in the Storm King’s lands. She—

Wait a minute…

Twilight froze in mid-stride towards the door and frowned as she swept her gaze across the room. A shaft of pale moonlight shone in through the half-open window, reflecting from the marble floor and onto the smooth walls. The clock hanging on the wall ticked away steadily, and its hands glowed with soft, green light against the deep indigo dimness of the room. Three in the morning.

She was in one of the guest rooms of the palace.

“S’mthing th’matter, Twi?” Spike murmured as he stirred in his cot.

Maybe?

Twilight trotted over to the window and gazed out as if she might find the answer staring back at her from the streets of Canterlot, far below.

“It... I think it was just a dream,” she said as she hesitantly crawled back into bed.

“Oh, all right.” Spike yawned and blinked owlishly at her. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Right. I’ma go back to sleep, ’kay?”

Twilight nodded, but she couldn’t stop gazing out the window even as she tucked herself back under the covers. Logically speaking, it really couldn’t have been anything other than a dream. Flurry Heart wasn’t even old enough to go to school yet, let alone sit on the throne! But the image of her niece and the twin changelings was practically seared into her mind, and she could recall them with stunning clarity, right down to the intricate patterns on their armour and their speeches word for word. None of her dreams had ever possessed that degree of detail…

Unless it was a vision of sorts.

She vaguely recalled Celestia and Luna mentioning that they’d witnessed Tirek’s escape from Tartarus through their dreams. But that’d been about something that was happening in the present, not the far future…

Twilight bit her lip as she forced her eyes shut and willed herself to stillness.

She flattened her ears when Spike snored softly.

Worse still, her brain decided there and then to conduct a review of events leading up to her feverish dream.

Two days. Two days had passed since Tempest’s and Pharynx’s altercation in the training yard. Twilight herself had been discharged with little fuss after the first night, but she’d found little to do in any official capacity in Canterlot, what with the parade being postponed on account of their injuries and the loss of nearly three quarters of their stockpile of fireworks. That’d left her with marking assignments – conveniently teleported all the way from Ponyville – and delegating duties to Starlight and the others to compensate for her delayed return to the school.

Apart from a brief farewell and get-well-soon after getting discharged, she hadn’t really taken the time to see how they were doing.

She peeped at the clock and suppressed a groan when she found that only four minutes had passed since her rude awakening. The pile of unmarked papers on the dresser taunted her with unresolved academic and grammatical errors, perfectly in tandem with the niggling unease of what she’d seen in her dream. And despite her silent pleas, the gears of her brain kept ramping up in speed, and it soon got uncomfortably warm and humid beneath the blanket.

Oh, fine!

Twilight yanked the covers off and tottered a little in the dark before she found the mental balance necessary to teleport. She did so, taking care to use a slightly more intricate spell matrix to minimise sound and residue as the world collapsed around her.

She popped back into physical space with barely a puff of smoke in the infirmary, right outside the observation window and—

Oh.

Twilight was at the observation window, all right.

Just not on the correct side of it.

The regular ceiling lights had been switched off to let the patients sleep, but somepony had placed a nightlight crystal on the table between Tempest’s and Pharynx’s beds. It filled the room with a cool, dim, bluish-white light that gave the room a near-dreamlike atmosphere.

Whatever the hypothesis for her slightly miscalculated interspatial triangulation, it instantly blew away into the deepest recesses of her mind when she realised that only one of the two beds was occupied. Neither of the patients was missing, though.

Tempest and Pharynx had shed most of their bandages, braces and resinous casts, sporting only a smattering of bruises, scabs and discoloured patches of burnt coat. Which was good. Astounding, even, considering the severity of their initial injuries.

But one particular detail commanded the majority of Twilight’s attention.

Tempest and Pharynx were spooning. And Tempest was the small spoon.

The battle-scarred unicorn looked uncharacteristically peaceful in her sleep, with the barest hints of a genuine smile on her muzzle instead of a brooding scowl or disdainful sneer. The imposing pegasus stallion at her back had wrapped his forelegs around her barrel and rested his muzzle on the back of her neck. His wings also covered her midsection like a fluffy blanket.

Then, Twilight could’ve sworn she heard glass shatter when she saw the horn poking out of his dark blue, streaked forelock.

The stallion was an alicorn. A purple alicorn. With a starburst cutie mark exactly like hers.

What the hay?

Pharynx. It had to be Pharynx in disguise.

But… why?

Her eye twitched as she appraised him from horn to hoof. He had apparently transformed into an amalgamation of Shining Armour’s physique, Tempest’s stature and Twilight’s colours and manestyle, resulting in a male Twilight – Guylight Sparkle? – that made her heart flutter and her stomach churn at the same time. She didn’t know how long she spent standing there stumped like a procrastinator in an exam hall, desperately trying to keep her stiffening wings from flaring out.

“Never took you for a creeper, boss,” Tempest murmured.

Twilight squeaked and flattened her wings to her sides. “Sorry!”

Seconds passed. Five, ten, maybe more whilst she fidgeted on the spot with a stiff grin plastered to her face, acutely aware of every bead of sweat forming under her coat. The temperature of her cheeks and ears was rapidly climbing, too.

Without getting up or even opening her eyes, Tempest growled, “If you aren’t going to join in or tell us to stop, please get out.”

“Oh, right!” Twilight clumsily spun around and tottered towards the door. “Sorry, didn’t mean to butt in like this. Guess I’m not fully awake yet. But it was so… unexpected! I mean, how could I ever expect to walk in on my own guard snuggling with stallion-me? Ha-ha! Crazy, right?”

She stopped halfway to the door and squinted at Pharynx.

“It is stallion-me, right? I mean, I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I’m starting to get a teensy little bit suspicious that you might have a thing for me, which is getting a little weird. Actually, it’s very weird, because I don’t think I’ve ever known anypony who’d had a thing for me. Ever.” She then shook her head and marched stiffly towards the exit. “Oh gosh, I don’t-know-how-to-feel-about-this-so-I’ll-just-stop-talking-now-and—”

“I think we broke her,” Pharynx whispered. “Should we do something about it?”

Yikes, he even sounds like Shining Armour…

“Nope! Don’t want to be a friendship problem!” she cried as she plodded away. “Leaving now!”

Tempest sighed. “I’ve changed my mind, boss. Please stay.”

Twilight froze with a hoof pressed on the door handle. Slowly, she turned whilst hearing the bed creak under their combined weight and movement, until she saw Pharynx clambering back onto his own bed whilst Tempest sat on her haunches and gestured with a hoof towards the visitor’s chair. The room’s proper lights then flickered on, temporarily stinging her eyes whilst she obediently trotted over to take a seat.

She shifted uneasily on her rump and stroked her tail, feeling very much like that time she’d had to face her teacher after getting an abysmal B-minus in a test. Tempest had an awful case of bed-mane, but apart from that, she only looked mildly irritated instead of furious as one might expect from her intrusion. Pharynx, on the other hoof, was looking at Tempest the same way Shining or Spike did at the last pancake on the table, and he at least had the grace to act very interested in a spot of dirt on the sheets when he realised Twilight was watching him.

“You both look good—Well!—I mean, you look well.” She gave them a sheepish grin and gestured vaguely with a hoof. “You know, considering what happened…”

Tempest gingerly massaged her belly and grimaced. “With all the healing potions they’ve been pumping into us, I certainly hope so.”

“All that love helps, too,” Pharynx added.

Twilight stared at him, involuntarily cataloguing the differences between them whilst her self-consciousness nagged about how she could stand to improve in a few areas that he seemed to excel at. He certainly could pull off a smug, bad-colt attitude that she couldn’t ever picture on herself, certainly not without that chiselled physique and slightly unkempt mane. He looked like the kind of stallion who’d go out with several mares at once after having been expressly forbidden to do so by the parents of all parties involved…

“Pharynx, quit it,” Tempest intoned with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, okay, I got it. No more messing the princess.” Guylight Sparkle sniggered and transformed into Pharynx with a whoosh of green fire. “Was tasty while it lasted, though.”

“Yup, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Twilight shook her head and then swept her gaze back and forth between them on their respective beds. Thankfully, Pharynx was no longer quite so distracting in his normal form, which allowed her mind to get back onto some semblance of a normal track. “So… what was that all about?”

Tempest shrugged. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”

“No, I get that. But why, you know…” Twilight pointed a feather at Pharynx and swept it from horn to hoof. “That? Of all the forms he could’ve taken, why a stallion version of me?”

She didn’t get an answer immediately. The silence between them stretched as Tempest appraised her, almost like a parent trying to decide whether it was time to talk about the birds and the bees. Which was more than a little patronising, if that was the case. Twilight was pretty sure she knew far more about courtship and reproduction that the average pony; she’d even memorised all the statistics, charts and diagrams!

“You mares thirsty?” Pharynx suddenly asked. He then hopped off his bed and trotted towards a large table at the far end of the room, which had an assortment of pots and jugs on top of it. “I’ll get something to warm us up.”

Tempest watched him go, then turned to her and asked, “Permission to speak freely, Princess Twilight?”

“You’re my friend. You don’t need my permission to be honest.”

“Wrong. You’re also my superior, but that’s beside the point.” Tempest averted her eyes and worked her jaw as if she had something of questionable taste in her mouth. She then rubbed the back of her neck and added, “The point is that… I like you. Some of you.”

When Pharynx coughed loudly from the other side of the room, Tempest shot him an annoyed look and cleared her throat. “Okay, a lot of you. Unfortunately, you’re missing some essential equipment that would seal the deal for me.”

Stars above, what the hay?

“I… I didn’t know. It never occurred to me.” Twilight felt her temperature rapidly rising and fluttered her wings to offload excess heat. “You, you actually like, like me? In that special somepony kind of way?”

Tempest shook her head. “Let me make this absolutely clear, boss. I like your body. Most of it, anyway.”

“Oh.” Twilight felt her ears droop, though she had no idea whether to feel relieved or mildly affronted. She could just imagine Rarity getting red and huffy on her behalf, all the same.

“Yes, I’m shallow like that. There’s nothing wrong with you, Twilight. It’s just that, personality-wise, you’re just not my type.” Tempest then tilted her head towards Pharynx. “On the other hoof, since he and I find each other very tolerable company, stuck in here with next to nothing to do, and with him needing a top-up and me wanting to explore a fantasy…”

When Twilight glanced at Pharynx, he grinned over his shoulder and said, “She’s got good taste.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that. You have my word that we’ll never do that agai—”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Twilight waved her forelegs and chuckled nervously. “You’re both consenting adults and what you do in private is none of my business. After all, even Princess Celestia says that there’s no wrong way to fantasize!”

Tempest blinked. “Huh. She actually said that?”

“Among other things…” Twilight mumbled.

“So, why exactly did you drop by?” Tempest’s brow suddenly creased into that severe, militant expression that promised a very thorough dressing down if one gave the wrong answer. “There any reason it had to be in the middle of the night? And by teleporting, no less.”

“Umm…”

Twilight bit her lip as she weighed the pros and cons of telling her about that dream. The more she thought about it, the sillier it seemed. Surely it couldn’t have been more than a feverish dream brought on by the stress of recent events, right?

Before she could answer, Pharynx bought her a little more time by trotting back with a tray fully loaded with steaming mugs of – she discreetly sniffed – hot chocolate. A small part of her felt disappointed that it wasn’t coffee, but she reminded herself not to complain about gifts.

After cooling down her mug with a quick spell, she took one long pull and practically swooned when the creamy, chocolatey sweetness flowed smoothly over her tongue and down her parched throat, before finally soothing her belly with its warmth. Ooh, yeah. That’s the stuff!

“Oh wow, this is really good!” she said as she stuck her muzzle into the mug and inhaled deeply through her nostrils. “Where’d you learn to—”

“You can thank Thorax for that, so don’t mention it,” Pharynx huffed with a dismissive wave of his hoof. “Seriously, don’t mention it. Ever. I swear, you spend even a little time around him and you’d pick up the most frivolous pony skills…”

Twilight then caught Tempest’s pointed look over the rim of her mug. She cleared her throat and said, “Right. Visits. The reason I came to visit is because… well, this is going to sound a little silly, but I had a very vivid dream about you and Pharynx having children.”

Tempest raised an eyebrow. “You dreamed about our… foals?”

“Are foals the right term for pony-changeling hybrids?” Twilight tapped her chin and frowned. “Maybe nymphs would be more accurate, but if they’re already adults when I saw them, then I guess it doesn’t matter what we call the—”

“Focus, boss.”

“Right!” Twilight filed the taxonomic question away for later and nodded. “Anyway, I didn’t just dream about you and Pharynx having hybrid children; they also kind of went around conquering our neighbouring lands on behalf of the Crystal Empire. And they were best friends with Empress Flurry Heart. Weird, huh?”

Tempest and Pharynx shared a look.

Then, Tempest carefully set her mug down on the bedside table and asked him, “Is that even possible?”

“Nah. Ponies and changelings cannot crossbreed.” He shook of his head. “The only exception is that male ponies might sometimes fertilise a queen’s eggs, but that always results in pure changeling grubs. There’s no mixing of genes, ever.”

“Also, it can’t have been your first time having weirdly specific dreams, right? You’re stressed out, and it’s our fault that the joint exercise got postponed in such a spectacular way right in your lap. I’d be surprised if you didn’t dream about us.”

“Yeah, but—wait a minute.” Twilight slowly turned to frown at Pharynx. “Your history claims that changelings and ponies cannot crossbreed. But you guys have never tested it with a reformed changeling, have you?”

Pharynx opened his mouth, paused for several seconds, then lowered his gaze and muttered, “That’s actually a good point. I don’t know if we’ve changed that much, but… yeah, it’s possible. A little. Maybe. I have no idea.”

“I don’t see how this should be a concern, anyway,” Tempest said.

“Well, if I hadn’t intruded, would you two have…” – Twilight bumped her hooves together and grinned sheepishly – “you know… escalated things?”

“What, you mean fertilising eggs?” Pharynx cocked an eye ridge, then tilted his head towards Tempest. “With her?”

Twilight nodded timidly, feeling her cheeks burn.

“First off, getting a little personal there, don’t you think?” Tempest said with a wry grin. She then jabbed a hoof at Pharynx. “Secondly, this bug, though he’s admittedly very easy on the eyes, still has a long way to go before he gets close to ploughing my field. We’re barely at the point of forming a relationship, but since you’re so concerned, I’ll have to inform you that it’s… on the table. You have my word that I’ll put an end to it the moment it starts conflicting with my duties, though.”

“No, no!” Twilight hastily waved a hoof. “Please, I don’t want to get in the way of your friendship, even less so if you both want to take this further and make it something special.”

Tempest sat up straighter and shook her head. “Duty comes first. Always.”

“Twilight, you’re her leader. Just command her to keep both,” Pharynx growled. “I don’t see why you ponies like to compromise so much when you can have it all. Changelings are way smarter about this. Even Chrysalis would agree.”

“But—”

“Butt is right! If you need to get her to obey, just wiggle yours at her and stretch those wings a bit.” Pharynx waggled his eye ridges and gave a toothy grin. “I have it on reliable intelligence that it makes her very compliant.”

“I, umm…” Twilight glanced at Tempest and shrank back a little. “Ha-ha, good one!”

Tempest wore a thin smile tightly stretched over a stiff jaw as she leered at Pharynx and said, “Better watch what you say, for you are crunchy and I know where your chitin is thinnest.”

“That’s why I’ll always be extra fluffy for you.” Pharynx vanished with a burst of green fire, and a grinning male Twilight sat in his place with his wings outstretched. He then puffed up and stroked down the luxuriant tuft of fuzz on his chest whilst his tongue hung out as if he was licking an invisible cone of ice cream.

Tempest’s cheeks instantly shifted a couple of shades closer towards the red spectrum, but to her credit, she remained silent and unmoving whilst she glowered at him. Twilight, on the other hoof, nearly choked down an extra-large bolus of air along with her hot chocolate.

Whilst she sputtered and coughed to clear her pipes, Pharynx leaned close to deliver a conspiratorial whisper, “See? It totally works. You should try that sometime!”

By then, Tempest had sufficiently recovered that her smile carried a hint of iciness when she said, “You know, the disciplinary issues in your hive don’t look all that surprising anymore. Also, that’s enough of you exploiting my boss’ personal image and self-esteem. Stand down, or I’ll break something the moment she leaves us.”

“So long as I get to squeeze you first, it’ll be totally worth it.” He reverted to his changeling form, but his grin didn’t falter.

“I… I think I should be going,” Twilight murmured as she set her empty mug onto the table and rose from her seat to take a couple of hesitant steps backwards. “Lovely hot chocolate, Pharynx, thank you. And forget about my dream; it’s probably nothing to worry about – just me getting way too worked up over something that has a really, really low probability of happening. I need to get back to bed, anyway.”

“Do you need an escort back to your room?” Tempest asked as she swung her hind legs over the edge of the bed. “I can get somepony to—”

“It’s fine. I’m awake enough to teleport properly now, and I know this palace like the underside of my hoof,” Twilight said with a dismissive wave of her wing.

Then inspiration struck, and she drew herself up to full height, stiffening her posture and lifting her chin to mimic Princess Luna when she was feeling particularly imperious and continued, “At ease, Tempest. Focus on resting so that you’re ready for duty when they discharge you. Also, you have my blessing as the Princess of Friendship to pursue a relationship with Pharynx. We’ll work out the details if any difficulties pop up from that, and I expect you to at least try to make it work before rejecting it for duty’s sake.”

Tempest had watched throughout that delivery with eyebrows raised and her head tilted slightly, as if seeing her in a new light. A couple of seconds after that, she sighed, leaned back against her pillows and saluted Twilight with a resigned smile. “Yes, ma’am. Duly noted.”

Pharynx chuckled and buzzed his wings agreeably. “Hey, not bad. Wish I could get Thorax to be like that a little more often…”

Twilight waved at them with a wing as her horn flared to life, filling the room with purple light. She then smiled and said, “Goodnight. I’ll see you two in the morning.”

In a flash, she popped back into her bedroom and promptly collapsed into bed. Even with all her thoughts swirling around in her head, it didn’t take very long for sleep to come with its siren call, and she freely surrendered to it with a sigh.

And when the first rays of the morning sun drew her out of slumber, she had a rather hazy recollection of cuddling with a very rugged, warm and fuzzy stallion. Said stallion had a dark purple coat and a broken horn. She’d called him Typhoon Shade or something similar and asked him to be her special somepony.

Her heart fluttered and her stomach twisted at the notion, because she had no idea whether it was simply a male version of Tempest or Pharynx disguised as such.

Twilight buried her head in her pillow and groaned.

I swear, Cadance, you’d better not have put Luna up to this, or I’m really going to develop a complex by the end of the week!

Chapter 4

“So… where exactly is this special place we’re going to?” asked Pharynx as they trotted along the streets of Fillydelphia.

He’d disguised himself as a tawny-coated unicorn with green eyes and a scruffy, brown mane verging on red. Significantly taller than average to match her height, but with sufficient musculature so as not to appear twiggy, and he wore a simple, black vest over a white collared shirt that lent him an air of sophistication that mildly clashed with the way he was constantly scanning his surroundings like a watchdog on high alert. He’d been like that since stepping off the train.

“Not far,” said Tempest after giving him a sidelong glance. “Keeping an eye out for ambush points and exit routes?”

“Naturally,” he replied without pausing in his silent appraisal of every passer-by on the sidewalk.

However, she did notice him stealing glances at the skyscrapers every now and then. His ears were perked and his gait had started off briskly, but the farther they went into the city, more and more of his tension sloughed off, until he almost looked like a wide-eyed tourist rather than a wary bodyguard.

She smirked. “First time in a big city?”

“Yeah. It’s almost like a hive, you know? Everypony’s got their own business to mind instead of getting all up in your face and asking all kinds of dumb questions with answers they’re not interested in anyway.”

As if right on cue, a stallion gruffly harrumphed when he bumped into Pharynx’s shoulder, then carried on without so much as an apology or a second glance. In fact, he even picked up a little speed after glancing at his watch.

“Now that’s efficiency,” Pharynx said with a grin. “More places should be like this!”

“You’d be surprised how many places are already like th—damn.”

Tempest deftly sidestepped a dirty puddle and quickly trotted past the stretch of wet pavement ahead, lest an errant pedestrian’s hoof splash her dress with the remains of a light afternoon rain. Her sudden movement drew Pharynx’s glance, but if he could taste her sudden bout of self-consciousness, he didn’t show any sign of it. Neither did any of the pedestrians.

Yes, the great Commander Tempest is wearing a dress.

She wondered what the Storm King would’ve thought of that.

Granted, it was more like a really stylish jumpsuit with long, flowy sleeves rather than the skirted type that most mares liked to wear, but a dress nonetheless.

She would’ve vastly preferred the comfortable weight of plate armour, but she’d been under the impression that this particular outing with Pharynx carried certain expectations, and none of Twilight and her friends had seen fit to tell her otherwise. Thankfully, with a little bit of persuasion, Rarity had tailored one to her specifications: plain black, with no frills, beads, lace or any other unnecessary adornments, aside from some well-hidden pockets for utility.

It was probably a good thing that her mane and tail hadn’t fully grown back to their original lengths, otherwise Rarity might’ve insisted on styling them herself. As it was, the silver horn ring already felt a bit much, but that’d been the price of Rarity’s service, in lieu of tacking on any other ‘essential’ accessories that she’d attempted to coax her into wearing for her date.

A date.

I’m going on a date, she realised.

She and Pharynx had gone their separate ways for a time after the joint military exercise. After all, their jobs weren’t the kind that afforded them a lot of time to go wherever they pleased. They’d kept in touch mostly by mail and the occasional meetup in various locales anywhere between Ponyville and the Badlands. But those were social visits, often in the presence of their respective charges, with little opportunity to break away for some privacy. Not dates.

It was surreal.

Dating was the kind of thing that common folk got to indulge in, not for conscripted soldiers like her. Relationships in the Storm King’s army were not uncommon, but they rarely went further than the physicality of it. You either wanted it or you didn’t, and there was little time or privilege for anything beyond scratching a very specific itch. But to slowly work her way through the trappings of a relationship by choice, with the potential for a lasting, deeper connection rather than a plain hunger for intimacy…

Some deep-seated part of her felt foalishly giddy about the prospect.

A prospect that she’d forgotten about for almost as long as the feeling of magic coursing through the full length of her horn...

“Something on your mind?” Pharynx asked.

She banished the thought and returned her attention to weaving through hoof traffic. They’d reached a particularly busy intersection, and she had a vague sense of being followed. Several glances behind confirmed that there were a few pedestrians who’d been tailing them for the last couple of streets, but she’d yet to determine if it was mere coincidence or criminal intent.

Her days of watching for a dagger in her back were supposed to be over, but…

Old habits really do die hard.

After stealing another rearward glance, she shrugged and said, “Yeah, I know a few ponies in this city. Got some memories.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, the usual. Smuggling, collecting debts, some racketeering on the side. Dirty work for the Storm King before he was big enough to launch an all-out offensive.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“When we weren’t squatting for weeks in a warehouse waiting for instructions, sure.” She grinned. “You haven’t lived until you’ve fought off a police raid while high from accidentally inhaling dreamweed dust.”

“Too bad. That stuff doesn’t actually do anything for changelings.”

She slowed and cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’ve actually tried dreamweed?”

“No. But my subordinates have.” Pharynx rolled his eyes. “Some of them have pony friends who shared at parties. Didn’t work. Not even close to the effects of sugar and love.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a pity or something to be jealous of—”

Tempest spotted movement up ahead and quit speaking just in time to see a filly galloping right at her, laughing and squealing as a colt chased her through the crowd. She leapt aside just in time to avoid getting cannonballed.

“Hey, watch it!” she called over her shoulder as the filly dashed on.

The colt chasing her grazed Pharynx, stumbled a little and then mouthed off a hasty apology before turning his back to them and breaking into a gallop.

Or he would have, if Pharynx didn’t double back and pounce on him like a praying mantis.

“Aagh! Hey, what’s the big deal? Let me go!” the colt cried, twisting and squirming as Pharynx hooked a foreleg around his barrel and carried him back to where Tempest stood.

The colt had looked ordinary enough at first glance: unicorn, just above cutie mark age, wearing a loose-fitting jacket; the kind she’d expect to find running around parks and streets whilst their parents lagged behind.

But on closer inspection, the colt had a certain scruffiness and ratty scent that reminded Tempest of her early years in Kludgetown. There was dirt caked into the hair of his unshorn fetlocks and little smears of grime in his mane. His holey jacket was fraying at the edges and had way too many pockets on the inside surface.

Pharynx ignored his protests and dug a hoof into one of the pockets, barely flinching even when the colt zapped him in the muzzle with a spark of magic.

“This is mine,” he growled at the colt when he pulled out a little pouch that clinked softly with bits.

“Let me go!” the colt cried. “Help, help!”

Tempest glanced around, but nopony came to his aid. In fact, she got the distinct impression of everypony speeding up, as if suddenly remembering that they’d left the stove on or something.

She snorted.

No one cared enough to get involved, which made it the perfect environment for a pickpocket to make a clean getaway. No heroes to run after pickpockets on behalf of elderly mares, but not so good either if said pickpocket was a child and needed somepony to step in if they were caught.

“Give it up, grub,” said Pharynx, grinning as he sat the colt down and firmly held him in place by the shoulder. He then shook the pouch of coins before stuffing it back into his own vest pocket, saying, “My brother went to a lot of trouble to get me these. You’re going to have to do a lot better if you want to take them off me.”

The colt’s eyes widened. His lower lip trembled as he sat frozen to the spot, his chest rapidly swelling and compressing with shallow breaths as Pharynx sprouted fangs and leaned closer, as if to bite his face off. When Pharynx blinked, his eyes briefly flashed into a pure, soulless purple whilst a forked tongue flicked out of his mouth.

Tempest stepped up to them and swatted the back of Pharynx’s head.

“Ow! What are—”

“That’s enough. I think he’s learnt his lesson,” she said. She then turned her gaze to the quivering colt and added, “Isn’t that right?”

The colt nodded vigorously, still huffing and puffing.

“Good. Let him go.”

Pharynx looked at her for a moment, then took his hoof off the colt’s shoulder and straightened up. His fangs shrank back to normal as he growled, “Fine. Get lost, grub.”

The colt scurried off without another word, stumbling and teetering on his wobbly legs. But before he could take a turn and vanish down an alley, Tempest whistled sharply at him. He froze and hesitantly looked over his shoulder, then flinched when she tossed her own coin pouch his way. He caught it with magic at the last second, peered inside and then blinked a couple of times. Only after getting a nod from her did he finally retreat with his unexpected prize, rendezvousing with his filly accomplice in the distance before disappearing around a corner.

Aside from a few cursory glances, none of the other pedestrians showed any surprise at the scene before them. Pharynx was the only one staring at her.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she said, before resuming her trot towards their destination.

A couple of seconds later, she heard the clip clop of his hooves catching up.

“What was that about? I thought you hated kids,” he asked as he fell in step with her.

“I do.”

When Pharynx cocked an eyebrow, she added, “Doesn’t mean I want them to go hungry. And it’s not like I use that much money, anyway. It might be enough to keep them out of trouble for a while.”

His ears tilted back a little as he nodded slowly. “I… I see.”

“Just don’t bully them and we won’t have a problem.”

“Hmph. Okay.”

He didn’t look like he’d completely come around to the idea, but since he didn’t say anything else, she allowed him to mull it over whilst they walked. She couldn’t blame him. Sometimes, she didn’t feel like she had a definite grasp on what she was supposed to do with juveniles, either.

They crossed a busy intersection, and Tempest led him past a row of shop houses, then into a narrow back alley that cut right through the block. Thankfully, they didn’t bump into any other homeless or drunks there, and they emerged into the outer edge of a huge park filled with towering pines and oaks. Gravel paths twisted and curled around the trees and decorative boulders, with park benches strategically placed at scenic stretches of grass, flower beds and small ponds.

There were other young couples in the park, too. Some meandered along the paths, whilst others lay together on the grass, some on the benches, and some of the more nimble and adventurous ones, in the trees themselves. Most of them spoke softly, whispering sweet nothings to each other. Tempest felt slightly overdressed when she saw that the vast majority of them had foregone any clothing aside from scarfs, hats and the occasional shirt.

Pharynx slowed down and looked at her expectantly when they neared a clear spot of grass where a gap in the massive oak branches overhead provided a good view of the purple-orange sky, but Tempest simply shook her head and went right past it.

Something did not feel quite right about the park, though. That back alley may not have been as empty as she’d thought.

Tempest still vaguely felt like she was being tailed by someone in the distance, but despite her best efforts, she detected no signs of the supposed stalker. No rustling bushes, no skulking shadows, no gleaming eyes.

“Pharynx, let me know if you sense anything odd.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Ponies are odd, and they’re all around us.”

She smiled thinly and huffed through her nostrils. “You know what I mean. Give me a heads up if anyone’s trying to get the drop on us.”

“So that’s what’s been bothering you,” he said as he cast a quick glance around. “Is this place supposed to be dangerous?”

“No. But it never hurts to be prepared.”

Pharynx narrowed his eyes as he gave their surroundings another quick scan and nodded.

The relatively natural landscape of the park soon gave way to a more sculpted arrangement, more closely resembling the garden terraces in Canterlot. The grass was well-trimmed, bushes had been sheared into hedges, and the air was thick with the scent of roses and other flowers she couldn’t identify. The kind of ponies wandering around had also changed, wearing finer clothes in addition to having obviously spent significantly more time grooming their manes and tails.

The deeper they went, the more ornate the landscape. Topiaries, fountains, statues and pieces of ancient Cloudsdale architecture dotted the garden, with increasingly taller hedges that obscured more and more of the park until they were practically navigating a maze, albeit a generously spacious one.

Eventually, they reached their destination.

“This is the place?” asked Pharynx.

Tempest tilted her head back so she could properly take in the full height of the building before her.

The Wellspring Club was a sturdy, almost foreboding mansion constructed with massive slabs of pale, chiselled stone and marble columns almost three storeys tall. Stern griffons clung at the top of each column with the back of their heads connected to the roof, their gaping beaks serving as rainspouts. Warm, yellow light poured out of the opaque, stained glass windows depicting ponies hauling pots of water and harvesting grain.

With a spacious garden surrounded by tall, thorny rosebushes, the club certainly stood in stark contrast to the rest of Fillydelphia’s urban landscape. With so few proper trees around, there was nothing to stop towering skyscrapers from looming overhead, dominating much of the sky that was visible above the well-trimmed hedge. The sun had gone down, and the first stars were already twinkling in the bluish-grey sky, behind a sparse layer of clouds.

“Yup. This is it,” said Tempest.

A massive griffon stood guard beside the heavy double doors. He wore a black suit and shades, but Tempest recognised the speckled patterns on his grey feathers and the scarring on the scales of his forearms, right down to the missing talon.

She strode up confidently towards him and waited whilst the griffon watched in silence.

Then, the griffon lowered his shades to reveal bright orange eyes. “Commander?”

And there it is.

She nodded. “Captain.”

“I, uh…” the griffon shuffled his wings. “I don’t go by that anymore.”

“Neither do I,” said Tempest. She then smiled and bumped her hoof with his fist. “Been a while, Gillon. Never thought I’d find you here, though.”

“Heh. Work is work, and beggars can’t be choosers.” He then gave Pharynx a cursory inspection and nodded. “So, just the two of you? I’ll have to see your membership passes.”

Tempest fished two gold-plated cards out of her pocket and placed them onto his palm.

After taking a moment to inspect them, Gillon passed them back to her and pulled one of the double doors open. He then dipped his head and gestured for them to enter. “Right this way. Enjoy yourselves.”

She walked past him, but paused when he gently but firmly laid a hand on her shoulder. Pharynx bristled and opened his mouth, but she averted the impending confrontation by meeting his eyes and giving a brisk shake of her head.

“Not that it’s my business, but are you, uh… working, tonight?” asked Gillon as he withdrew his hand, giving Pharynx a conciliatory nod. “The kind that needs cleaning up after?”

Tempest took a couple of seconds to think. “Maybe.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, lashing his tail. “I’m the guy they pay to step in and escort troublemakers out. I don’t want to have to—”

“If it comes to that, I’ll call in that favour you owe me,” Tempest said with a wry smile. “If it makes you feel better.”

Gillon stared at her.

Chuckling, Tempest thumped him on the shoulder and trotted on into the mansion.

Just before the door boomed shut, she heard a distinct, “Aww, pluck…”

Pharynx gave the doors a suspicious glance and asked, “Is he going to be a problem?”

“Not likely. We’re just here to have a nice dinner.”

“And does anything else happen here aside from nice dinners?”

“Yes, but they’re none of our business tonight,” she said, giving him a firm shake of her head. “Besides, Gillon’s an old friend, and a smart griff on top of that.”

Pharynx chuckled. “Too bad. I could take him.”

“Maybe some other time. We’re running a little late.”

Their hooves barely made a sound on the thick, plush carpeting in the reception hall. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, filling the place with warm light that reflected on suits of armour standing guard along the walls, in between tapestries depicting ponies of historical importance.

A grand flight of stairs rose up directly in front of them, with two doorways on either side of their base that led to a courtyard in the middle of the mansion. To their left was an open door into a drawing room filled with bookshelves, pool tables, writing desks and couches, where Tempest spied a couple of middle-aged ponies conversing as they lounged in heavy chairs carved from hardwood.

Tempest looked to the right and saw rustic wooden door with a glass window set into its upper half, through which she could see slightly distorted figures, some seated at round tables and others moving briskly between them.

A bell tinkled softly when she pushed the door open.

Though the restaurant had similarly ostentatious décor, the slightly dimmer lighting, combined with softly-spoken idle chatter and the clinking of cutlery helped to give it a more homely and cosy atmosphere when compared to the rest of the mansion.

The round tables were covered with deep-red tablecloths, and each had supplementary illumination from a short, fat candle in the middle. Most of the tables were occupied; some by couples young and old, some by groups of friends, and some by syndicate-oriented individuals, characterised by the discreet but wary looks they gave her from the corners of their eyes. Nearly a third of these were non-ponies, consisting mostly of griffons and diamond dogs, but she did spot a minotaur at the far table and even a juvenile yak. Of the ponies themselves, a good quarter of them were thestrals, which was a startlingly high percentage when compared to the general population.

All were dressed either for courtship or business, but years of experience on the streets had taught her to read the temperamental undercurrent beneath the veneer of class and luxury. It was a den of predators, in more ways than one, and half the sheep who frequented it probably didn’t even know.

Pharynx flicked his tongue out and smiled. “I like this place already.”

A unicorn waiter trotted up to them and dipped his head respectfully. “Welcome to our establishment. Table for two?”

Tempest nodded. “I have a reservation.”

“Ah, Miss Shadow, I presume?”

“Yes.”

The waiter smiled and nodded. “Right this way, please.”

Their table was of the size reserved for couples, being small enough for intimate conversation whilst having just about enough space for an assortment of dishes. It was situated right next to the wall, with a high-set window that faced the garden outside. From there, they had a good view of the restaurant interior and most of its patrons, plus most of the potential exits. And most importantly, none of the tables directly adjacent to them were occupied, affording them greater privacy.

A strategically valuable position, though not entirely relevant at the current juncture in their date.

After sitting down, she breathed in through her nostrils and hummed in appreciation when a waiter trotted past with several dishes floating after him, trailing a mouth-watering scent.

“Tempest?” Pharynx sniffed a couple of times and blinked. “Is… is that what cooked meat smells like?”

She smirked and leafed through the menu. “The good stuff you can’t find anywhere in Ponyville. Order whatever you want; we probably won’t get to dine here very often.”

“That so, huh?” He glanced at his menu and frowned. “Wait, aren’t there supposed to be prices on these things? There’s no way that they’re free.”

“If you have to ask, then you can’t afford it. It’s a thing with these places,” she said with a shrug. “Don’t worry, we’ve got enough to cover the bill between us. I’ve made sure of that.”

“Well, if that’s the case…” Pharynx grinned at the waiter and tapped a hoof on the menu. “I want this, this and this. Hmm, better get some of this, too… And don’t bother with the leaves and flowers. I don’t like salads.”

“I… yes, of course. Very good, sir.”

Tempest had to stifle some laughter working its way up when the waiter blinked and fumbled for a beat whilst jotting down Pharynx’s purely carnivorous selection. He was either new and hadn’t yet been inoculated to the tastes of the eccentric, or maybe the establishment had yet to get its share of changeling patrons. She went easy on him and chose a more omnivorous course when it was her turn to order.

The waiter’s departure brought on an unexpected lull.

Tempest sipped from her complimentary glass of water and peered into its transparent depths.

I’m on a date.

I’m here.

On a date.

She looked at Pharynx, who was still poring through the menu, maybe wondering if he should’ve ordered something else.

You’re on a date, so get on with it!

The buck’s a mare supposed to do on a date?

Her predecessor once said that no plan survives contact with the enemy. Apparently, Rarity’s dating advice fell into that category as well.

Simply calling their get-togethers by a different name had an inordinately drastic effect on the experience. Under normal circumstances, they would’ve already finished bitching about the newest recruits and moved on to cuddling or maybe even some… rigorous exercise. Nothing that involved kissing or penetration—he hadn’t yet earned that right—but definitely something more exciting than what was polite in public. Unfortunately, they were in public, and most of their repertoire seemed crass and inappropriate even with the vague recollection she had of Rarity’s thorough instruction on what constituted a romantic evening.

She didn’t feel like Tempest Shadow. Stripped of her armour and fumbling for assurance in something that was not a battlefield, it was as if she had regurgitated all her years of experience until Fizzlepop Berrytwist came spewing out, lost and weak and useless.

Her grip on the glass tightened until she could’ve sworn that it creaked.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing…” she murmured.

“What’s wrong?” asked Pharynx.

Tempest reached into one of her hidden pockets and felt the enchanted gemstones she’d procured from Princess Twilight specifically for their outing. They were hard, unyielding to the touch, and oddly enough, a tactile reminder of her place in the world.

A date was unknown territory, but indulging in a little work might reset her nerves.

She transferred her grip on the glass to her magic, heedless of the minor crackling and discomfort, and then stood up. “I need a moment. Going to the restroom to clear my head. And to do… mare things.”

Pharynx’s brow creased slightly, but he nodded and remained in his seat. “Uh, okay. See you soon, I guess.”

“Be right back.”

The restroom was in the corner farthest from their spot, and she had to go past many other tables on the way there. She kept a firm magical aura on her glass, sipping nonchalantly as she walked towards the restroom. Whilst the conspicuous aura on her glass drew the attention of any observers, she divided her attention to pop the magical gemstones out of her pocket, bounce them silently on the thick carpet, and discreetly flick them under the most interesting tables she passed. It took a lot of concentration and more than a little pain to use her magic like that, but she eventually managed to activate and plant all eight far-hearing stones without drawing suspicion. From then on, they would record nearby conversations for the next hour and transmit them to another eight linked stones in her other pocket.

She faffed around in the restroom for a while, taking the time to appreciate the calming effect a little espionage had on her nerves, before finally returning to their table. None of the other guests even gave her a second glance on the way back.

After she’d sat back down, Pharynx grinned at her from across the table. “So, who was it who gave you ‘advice’ on what to do?”

Tempest blinked. “What?”

“Who put crazy ideas into your head about what we’re supposed to do on this date?” Pharynx asked whilst he fiddled with the table candle. “You know… fancy rules about what to say, how to sit, how to look at each other and all that grubbing stuff.”

“That… would be Rarity.” She set her glass down and snorted. “What gave it away?”

“Changeling,” he simply said, gesturing to himself. “But if it makes you feel better, Thorax put me through the same torture.”

“Thorax gave you dating advice? Really?”

Pharynx rolled his eyes. “You have met my brother, right? Big horns, about this tall, mushy on the inside and the outside, doesn’t realise he’s not actually a pony?”

Tempest chuckled. “I may have, yes.”

“So, what’s your plan for this date?”

She shrugged. “I’ve forgotten everything Rarity told me.”

“And I didn’t hear a word Thorax said.” Pharynx leaned back in his chair and huffed. “So who cares about what they want? We’ll just hoof it—or wing it, whatever you ponies say—and do what we want.”

“You know what? I like the sound of that.” Tempest leaned closer over the table and rested her chin on her bridged fetlocks. “And what do we want?”

“You taste like you’re ready to go through the final stages of… courtship,” he said slowly, almost as if he was savouring each word and judging its merits like a chef. He then gave her a cheeky grin and saluted. “I’m just here waiting for you to ask or give me the order, Commander.”

Tempest stared at him for a couple of seconds before a smile slipped through her mask. “Well, damn, that’s awfully direct. And here I was, preparing for us to beat around the bush all night until we drank enough booze to make us confess our feelings for each other. Rarity would probably be offended.”

Pharynx’s grin widened. “Even better.”

She pictured the mare fainting on her tactically deployable couch and stifled a giggle. Then, she shook her head and said, “All right, fine. I suppose we can go with the direct route.”

But before either of them could start on said direct route, a waiter trotted up to their table with several dishes in tow. Tempest bristled at the interruption, but reminded herself that he technically wasn’t her subordinate and silently watched as he gracefully levitated the bowls and plates onto the table.

“Your orders have arrived, Sir and Madam,” the waiter said airily, dipping his head as he lifted the covers off their dishes with a flourish. “Please, do enjoy!”

In spite of herself, Tempest smiled at him and nodded. The food smelled too good to spoil by feeling sour about the poor timing. Pharynx was already eyeing his food like a prowling cat, so there was no point in trying to get back on the topic of their relationship. Besides, her stomach was tying itself in knots with each passing moment of being denied sustenance.

Grilled salmon. Abyssinian desert skinks with stir-fried vegetables. Roasted rabbit with potato mash and catnip, Griffish-style. And a tropical berry cocktail to top it all off.

Pharynx had gone with some baked beetles in mango sauce, locust-encrusted garlic bread, and what looked like grilled chicken wings seasoned with dark peppers. He’d also ordered a glass of iced tea.

Might as well chow down, first.

Tempest was no stranger to fine dining, having occasionally attended such events when the Storm King bothered with pretences of diplomacy, but she never would’ve guessed that Pharynx had had similar training. He used the cutlery correctly and precisely, in stark contrast to his preferred method of sticking his muzzle into the bowl whenever they ate together in the mess hall.

In her case, she had to put in a little effort with magic in spite of the discomfort, since unicorns were apparently expected to do so in this setting. She didn’t want to stand out too much, either.

The first bite of skink—tough, salty and pungent—sent her mind reeling way back to her first campaign under the Storm King, when they’d had to make do with eating whatever they could find in the desert when their supply lines got disrupted. She closed her eyes and chewed in silence as she remembered the endless complaints of her fellow legionnaires.

Things were simpler back then. Follow instructions, and try to enjoy anything in between raiding, foraging and recuperating from injuries. Good fights, good times.

“Oh grub, the hive needs to capture whoever’s in charge of cooking this,” Pharynx said after crunching and swallowing the beetles in his mouth. He then used the napkin to wipe a bit of mango sauce dribbling down his chin and added, “Either that, or I’m getting Thorax to send some of our wannabe chefs here for training! It’ll at least make them tolerable.”

Tempest smiled and sipped some cocktail. “Told you this place was special.”

Movement at the edge of her vision drew her attention away from Pharynx, though.

A trio of newcomers had entered the restaurant: one griffon and two pegasus stallions, and they were markedly underdressed for the venue, in that they were wearing absolutely nothing. Not technically unacceptable, but they did stand out in their casualness.

The griffon carried himself like a fighter, and she noticed that he was scanning the restaurant’s patrons. His eyes met hers and lingered for an instant too long before he lazily turned his gaze elsewhere and allowed the waiter to herd him and his companions to a table.

He’d been looking for her, and didn’t want her to know.

Nice try, but you slipped up.

Looking across the table, she found Pharynx looking at her with one eyebrow slightly raised; he knew something had alerted her. Glancing at his half-devoured meal, Tempest worked up a casual smile and discreetly gestured for him to carry on as if nothing was wrong. She would just have to keep her guard up and inform him when it was safe to do so; an immediate reaction would tip them off.

In the meantime...

She speared a chunk of salmon and chewed, savouring its juicy, rich flavour. She then swallowed and said, “Now, where were we?”

“You were about to say something about us taking the direct route?” Pharynx said after crunching up the last beetle.

“Right. That.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I… bleeding hells, I have no idea if there’s a right way for me to say this, so I better get it out quick before I break again.

“Pharynx, this thing we have between us… I want it to grow. You’re unlike any soldier I’ve ever come across; you’ve taught me things no one else has, and I want you. I want you to be happy. I…”

She faltered, and distracted herself by spearing a bit of rabbit. Then, whilst she stared at the morsel on her fork, she murmured, “You know, there are entire nations in the southern lands that have lost contact with their extended families. They may not even recognise them if they crossed paths on the street.”

If Pharynx was confused by the change in topic, he didn’t show it. He simply looked on attentively and asked, “Okay, why?”

“Because we sold most of the adults into slavery, and the remainders no longer have photographs. Pictures. Genealogies, addresses, censuses, most forms of records or identifications. They burnt them all.”

“What for?”

Tempest bit the morsel off her fork and chewed. “Because they knew we were coming. We looked at photographs, family pictures… used them to figure out who had ties with whom, so we knew exactly who to torture if we wanted information.”

He nodded. “That makes sense.”

She swallowed. “And I thought them fools. I openly mocked them for allowing themselves to be saddled with such glaring weaknesses. Half of the cities we’d taken might’ve outlasted our sieges if their key personnel hadn’t broken the moment we started whipping their friends or families.”

Pharynx frowned, then squinted at the restaurant’s door.

Tempest followed his gaze just in time to see the door swing shut, but no one had entered. A second later, it swung open just wide enough to admit Gillon’s head, who looked around with a puzzled frown before reluctantly returning to his post outside.

Something was off, but Tempest couldn’t quite put her hoof on it.

“This place is being weird,” said Pharynx. “I can taste somepony really familiar, but I don’t recognise any faces around here, and I can’t pin down where it’s coming from.”

“You sure it’s not the food? They do like to put in fancy herbs and spices.”

“Please. I can tell the difference.” He then gestured at his dishes and added, “They’re delicious, but there’s nothing here that can mess with my head.”

Tempest shook her head and tapped her hoof on the table. “Whatever. Back on track.”

She leaned closer and locked eyes with him. Despite his equine disguise, she saw right through it, to the being that resided within, so alien yet so much like herself. Black, purple, cyan, red. Holes and spines. Wings and frills. Almost like he was a missing part of her that she’d only just realised she’d needed to be whole.

“Pharynx, for the first time ever since abandoning my childhood home and friends, I want to be something more than merely useful and competent.”

She grimaced and stuck her tongue out. “Ugh, I have to use the L word, don’t I?

“Pharynx, I love you.” She reached out for his left foreleg and locked pasterns with him. She swallowed and fought to keep her leg from trembling. “I want to be loved. I want you to be my greatest weakness; I want you to be my greatest strength.”

Solemnly, Pharynx placed his right foreleg over hers and squeezed. “You have me, Tempest. I am your soldier, from now until the hive is dust and memories.”

She shook her head. “I’m not your commander, and I’m not choosing you to be my subordinate. I choose you because you’re my equal.”

Pharynx grinned, and his eyes briefly flashed into a pure, inequine purple. “That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t want you to be my commander. I want you to be my queen. My mother raised me to be a weapon, the hive’s first and last line of defence, but for the first time in my life, I want to be a father. I want to fertilise eggs—your eggs. I would sire an entire swarm with you, if you would grant me the honour.”

For some reason, the thought of being mother to a family that could be classified as a swarm didn’t immediately fill Tempest with dread or disgust.

Instead, she laughed. “A swarm, huh? I like a stallion with ambition. But does it even work that way for us?”

Pharynx smirked and waggled his eyebrows. “Won’t know until we try.”

“Easy, tiger. We’ll work our way up, one step at a time…”

She released his hoof and shifted her seat around the table to get closer to him. He did the same, until they were practically side by side.

They touched shoulders. She could feel his coarse coat and his wiry musculature even through the fabric of her dress. Felt the warmth of his breath, seasoned with spices. His green pony eyes glowed softly, entranced by her gaze—or was it the other way around?

The world around them fogged up, dimmed and eventually faded away.

Tempest’s breaths slowed, lengthened as the distance shrank between their muzzles.

Her heart rate spiked as she tilted her head slightly sideways.

Should I?

She paused at the last centimetre.

Buck it, retreat is not an option!

Tempest closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his.

It started with a tingle in her lips, rippling across her skin from her muzzle to the rest of her face, down her neck and down her spine, until it raced to the ends of her limbs. Her tail lashed whilst her horn involuntarily fizzled with magic.

Then, she drew in a sharp breath and opened her mouth.

Their tongues met. His was forked, abrasive.

She shivered, but kept up the pressure and continued filling her lungs with his otherworldly scent with each breath through her nostrils.

Lightning raced through her nerves.

Fire danced on her tongue as she ventured deeper and licked his fangs.

Her tongue smarted, and it gradually spread until it filled her entire mouth with a pungent, stinging scent.

Her breath hitched.

The stinging rapidly intensified and spread to the back of her throat. The insides of her nostrils stung and clammed up. Beads of sweat erupted from her pores.

That can’t be right…

Tempest opened her eyes and spotted the remains of Pharynx’s meal. Specifically, the chicken wings. Besides some half-chewed bones on the plate, there were a couple of dark, shrivelled, triangular pods left soaking in the gravy. Then, the name of one of the dishes on the menu came back to her, unbidden.

Brimstone Delight: Succulent chicken wings with Nirik Horns, the deadliest peppers this side of Equestria!

Tempest blinked.

Oh.

Tears welled up.

Oh, holey ship, you’ve got to be kidding me!

She broke away from the kiss with a gasp and wheezed when her very breath seared the insides of her lungs.

“Tempest?”

She couldn’t answer. Too busy retching as she held onto the edge of the table.

“Tempest!”

Still too busy.

Her mouth might as well have been a lava pit for all the fire and brimstone it surely must’ve had seething in there, slowly cooking her tongue. She could feel Pharynx gingerly patting her on the back whilst she worked her way through some ragged coughing, sputtering and wheezing, before she finally slammed a hoof on the table and hoarsely bellowed, “Ice! Water! Now!”

Stunned silence filled the restaurant as all eyes turned to them.

“You heard her!” Pharynx yelled at a waiter. “Hop to it, grub!”

Said waiter dashed off.

Pharynx sniffed the air and winced. “Sorry. Forgot you ponies are super sensitive to chillies.”

“More like you changelings are the freaks with ridiculously high tolerance for hot and spicy shit…” she choked out, blinking the tears away. “How are you not dying right now?”

A waiter cantered over to their table and offered her a glass of water and a jug, along with a greenish lozenge which he levitated right up to her muzzle. “Here, Madam. Take this mint; it’s specially made for cooling you down.”

Tempest tucked the mint under her tongue and drank greedily from the glass. The icy water provided only a fleeting few seconds of relief, but the somewhat gummy mint had a surprisingly soothing effect. She pushed it around with her tongue, and slowly, like mud smothering a bonfire, the cool, minty flavour extinguished the burning agony in her mouth. It still smarted a little, but at least she could breathe again…

She collapsed into her chair and gulped down another mouthful of ice water.

“Feeling better, Madam?” asked the waiter.

“Yes, yes, thank you,” she said, waving him off. “Crisis averted.”

He nodded and trotted away.

One by one, the rest of the patrons turned their gazes back to their own business, too.

Pharynx placed a hoof on her shoulder, but she instinctively swatted it away and growled, “Wait. I need a moment.”

Sucking on the mint had helped tremendously, but it was gone all too soon, and it couldn’t do much about the aftereffects. She felt inappropriately flustered and sweaty, and her sinuses still had traces of the caustic aroma wafting around in them.

Pharynx sniggered, and when she glared at him, he held up both hooves in surrender, with a sheepish grin on his muzzle and said, “Hey, you have to admit it was funny!”

In spite of herself, Tempest grinned back and cricked her neck. “Oh, I’ll show you funny, you miserable sack of sh—”

A shadow fell across their table.

Tempest paused in mid-sentence and scowled at the intruders, silently cursing herself for not noticing the griffon and two pegasus stallions from earlier approaching from their table. They loomed over her and Pharynx, stances wide and ready for action.

“I know you,” growled one of the pegasi. “You’re Commander Tempest, aren’t you?”

Pharynx frowned. “What’s your problem?”

“Sit down, horn-head. Our business is with the good mare, here,” said the griffon.

“If it’s about the Storm King’s invasion, it wasn’t anything personal,” Tempest said slowly. “Besides, I got fired.”

“Don’t play dumb. You took everything from us!” the second pegasus snarled in her face.

Had she been with Princess Twilight, or on just about any other day, Tempest would’ve played nice, maybe apologised and tried to make amends, but under the current circumstances, she was fresh out of hoots to give.

So, she glared right back at them and said, “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Traitor!”

Tempest raised her foreleg to deflect the stallion’s incoming blow, but Pharynx intercepted him first, grabbing his hoof with magic and yanking hard so that he fell flat on his barrel across their table with a startled grunt. Plates and cutlery bounced and clattered all around the pegasus, and before he could roll off the table, Pharynx pounced on him and got him into a headlock.

The griffon, outraged by Pharynx’s assault, reared up and raised an arm to claw him, but seized up when Tempest leapt out of her chair and zapped him with a small arc of crackling magic. That gave her all the time she needed to grab his arm and twist it behind his back. For good measure, she snagged her knife with magic and pressed the tip into his wingpit.

The first pegasus, still unhindered by either of them, leapt forward and punched Tempest right in the cheekbone. She grunted but kept her hold on the griffon. It was a relatively weak and half-hearted blow, anyway, perhaps done out of fright rather than pure hate or professionalism; the stallion certainly didn’t look like a weakling.

“You get that one for free,” she said to him. Then, she applied more pressure with the knife—drawing a pained yelp from griffon—and added, “Try anything and I’ll make sure your friend here never flies again.”

“And this one might lose an eye,” Pharynx chimed in as he levitated a fork in front of the other pegasus’ face.

The free pegasus flicked his gaze between his companions, then snorted and retreated a couple of steps, tail lashing.

“Look, I get it. I know you all suffered during the invasion, and I’m sorry for being a part of that. But you’ve caught me at a really bad time right now, so unless you all want to go home on stretchers, I suggest you get back to your table and enjoy the rest of your evening,” she growled. “And if you’re still mad about it tomorrow, you can come to Ponyville and complain to Princess Twilight. She’ll make sure I’m properly disciplined for whatever I’ve done to you. Deal?”

All three thugs remained silent.

Then, the main door swung open as Gillon barged into the restaurant—one of the staff must’ve alerted him. He’d rolled up his sleeves and looked just about ready to toss someone’s flank out when his eyes found them. He then slowed to a halt and simply stared.

Tempest gave him an apologetic smile and addressed her captive griffon. “I’m going to let you go, and you’re going to walk back to your table and leave us alone. Nobody needs to get kicked out tonight over a little misunderstanding, right?”

Silence for a couple of seconds.

Then, the pegasus who’d thrown the first punch squirmed in Pharynx’s grip and muttered, “You know what? It looks like we got the wrong mare after all. Sorry for kicking up a fuss.”

“How about you?” she asked, nudging the griffon.

He grumbled. “Yeah, we cool.”

Tempest released him just as Pharynx did the same for the pegasus. The two thugs took a moment to nurse their strained appendages and wipe food stains off their coats before joining their third companion, and then all three of them stalked back to their table without another word.

Whilst Pharynx straightened out the tablecloth and tidied up their upset plates, she righted her chair, sat back down and cocked an eyebrow at her impromptu audience.

Most of the couples hastily averted their eyes and minded their own business. The waiters and staff took a little longer, but they too went back to work and acted as if nothing had happened.

The larger groups of more business-like patrons, however, had a few members who gave her long, appraising looks, like animals sizing up a potential intruder on their turf. But eventually, they ignored her, too.

And finally, Gillon rolled his eyes, gave her an exasperated sigh and lumbered back out, muttering under his breath.

“Well, that was fun,” said Pharynx as he brushed a few stray crumbs off his vest.

A waiter hurried over to assist with cleaning and tidying up their table, but Tempest simply waved off his rapid-fire apology on behalf of management and allowed him to leave with their empty plates.

She sipped at her cocktail, which had mercifully survived the scuffle, and watched the rest of the patrons enjoying their evening.

“Tempest, are you okay?”

I should not be here…

Whether justified or not, those thugs did have a point. Going by the laws of most of the nations the Storm King had subjugated, she was a war criminal. Had she lost to anyone other than Twilight Sparkle, she would be in chains, rotting in a cell or toiling in a field instead of wearing a pretty dress and having dinner in a fancy restaurant with Pharynx…

From behind her chair, Pharynx rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered, “You’re brooding again.”

“Mm hmm. I hear I’m really good at it.”

“Me too. Thorax and Starlight say it’s unhealthy.”

Tempest stroked his cheek and laid her hoof on his neck, but said nothing.

“Those grubs don’t know what they’re talking about, anyway. I could feel it.”

She remained silent.

“Hey, I’m sorry about the stupid spicy food thing. I keep forgetting there are things we can eat that make ponies annoyed or sick.” He then wrapped both legs around her barrel and continued, “How about we ditch this place and go somewhere quieter?”

“Hmm?”

“I could hold you. Real tight.” She could almost hear his smirk. “And if you feel like it, maybe we can try a different kind of brooding.”

Tempest’s grin promptly shoved her sulk off her face and tied it up in a trunk. “Not that I’m an expert or anything, but you’re a shameless flirt, you know that?”

“Of course. Shame is an aberrant mutation in changelings,” he said with a snort. “So… you forgive me?”

“Like I said, it’s not your fault.”

Tempest nuzzled him, then stretched her leg out and tapped on the table with a hoof. When Pharynx stepped back and gave her a quizzical look, she motioned for him to sit.

“Actually, I’m the one with a confession to make,” she said after he’d sat down next to her. She then flicked her gaze to the patrons, then back to Pharynx. “There’s another reason I chose this place, besides the food.”

“Yeah, been wondering about that.”

She leaned closer and whispered, “Short story is that this place is quite the popular hangout for those who have… dealings in the black market. Dreamweed, kirin beer, weapons-grade Poison Joke extract, cursed artefacts—you name it, there’s probably someone here selling. It’s not quite on the level of the cartels in Kludgetown and Abyssinia, but significant enough to warrant a crackdown.”

“Really?” Pharynx glanced at the other patrons and frowned. “Doesn’t look like there’s much room for big business.”

“Well, this is more the meeting place where the deals take place. Unless it’s something small like a spellbook or a packet of Siren scales, the actual shipments will change hands elsewhere.” – she made a circular motion with her hoof – “But here? This is where the bosses and their suppliers like to meet to conduct business.”

“And ponies have never caught them before?”

Tempest smirked. “They’ve never had my connections before now. In fact, I’m sure that some of the dreamweed stock I used to guard was sold here.”

“Okay, and what does this have to do with us?”

She fished one of the enchanted gems out of her pocket and placed it on the table. Then, she used Twilight’s auditory spell to replay what it had recorded from its twin hidden beneath one of the syndicate’s tables at a low volume. It didn’t take her long to tweak it to the parts with relevant information; several voices haggled over exorbitant prices for artefacts with illegal enchantments.

Satisfied, she slipped it back into her pocket.

“This was my contingency plan if things didn’t go smoothly for our date.” Tempest breathed in deeply and let her breath whoosh out. “And, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a bit of a rough evening, and our first kiss wasn’t quite as magical as I’d been led to believe. Right now, I just want to kick some criminal ass.”

Pharynx blinked and tilted his head in the direction of the patrons. “We get to fight them all?”

“Only those whom I have evidence on, and of them, only those who resist arrest. Also, we may have to share with the police if they get here quickly.”

“These grubs any good in a fight?”

“Well, these types tend to hire decent bodyguards, so I’d expect a reasonable challenge.” She then cocked an eyebrow when a massive grin split his muzzle. “You’re not disappointed that I’ve declared our date a subpar experience?”

“Are you kidding?” He sniggered and then nuzzled her. “How can I ever be disappointed when you’ve just announced the main course? You just saved the best part for last!”

“I… huh.” Tempest blinked at him.

Then, she nuzzled his neck, and slowly worked her way up until she found his mouth and kissed him. He protested with a cautionary mumble, but she knew better than to shove her tongue in there again and simply stuck to the basics when snogging. The residual spiciness still stung her lips, but that didn’t stop her from having another electrifying experience that simultaneously satisfied yet filled her with longing for more.

Eventually, they parted lips.

Pharynx smiled. “I love you, my queen.”

She felt herself redden and quickly huffed, “Love you too, my princely motherbugger.”

A moment of silence and contentment passed between them.

Then, Pharynx began taking off his vest and shirt, which drew a scandalised look from a mare at the other table.

Meanwhile, Tempest charged up a spell on her horn, and once he’d finished stripping, she sent a blast out the stained glass window. The blue, crackling bolt shattered one pane, screeched as it soared into the dark sky and then exploded into a shower of sparks that lit up the canopies of the trees below.

A split-second later, the resounding boom rattled the windows and chandeliers, which she took as her cue to stand up to her full height and slam her hoof on the table.

She then gave the patrons a couple of seconds to yelp, shriek and otherwise look around in confusion until they focused their glares on her, at which point she yelled, “Knock-knock, everybody, this is a raid!”

A flash of green fire punctuated her words, and Pharynx reappeared by her side in his dark changeling form, snarling and baring his fangs. “You grubs try anything stupid, and I’ll suck all the love out of every single one of you!”

Silence reigned whilst everyone took a moment or two to process the situation.

Practically all of the romantically-inclined couples stared at them in confusion, but the larger parties regarded them with newfound wariness. Diamond dogs bristled, thestrals bared their fangs, and horns glowed faintly with discreet magic. The trio of thugs were staring at them with their mouths hanging open.

Nobody made a move, though.

One seedy unicorn stallion with slicked-back hair rose from his seat and frowned at Tempest.

“My dear, perhaps you are mistaken,” he said smoothly, gesturing to himself and his cohorts. “This fine establishment has a long history of only admitting the most upstanding citizens in Equestria, and to imply that it is a den of criminal activity worthy of such a graceless invasion of privacy is a grave insult.”

“Also, you have no jurisdiction!” a grizzled diamond dog called out. “You’re not police!”

“And even if you were, you have no evidence or a warrant,” a griffon added.

Tempest smiled. “Glad you asked.”

She picked the gem recording from earlier and poured magic into it, tweaking up the volume until a smooth, oily voice filled the restaurant, saying, “—no deal, my friend. Ten thousand bits is a pittance for the last surviving copies of Non Consent’s Ensorcelments of the Mind and Doctor Jackal’s Fiendship is Magic. Thirty thousand, or they go my other clients in Hollow Shades.”

“Sounds like pretty good evidence to me,” said Tempest, when she stopped the playback and slid the gem into her pocket. Then, she turned her gaze to the diamond dog who’d challenged her and added, “You’re right, though. I’m no police mare; I’m Lieutenant Tempest Shadow of the Royal Guard, and—oh, guess what?—it turns out that I do have joint jurisdiction local law enforcement in all Equestrian territories.

“And that little lightshow from forty seconds ago? That was the signal for the cops to surround this property and secure all exits. Nobody leaves until we say so.”

The door’s tinkling bell heralded Gillon’s arrival once more. He gave Tempest one look, then grimaced, closed his eyes and massaged his forehead as he quietly pulled the door shut.

More silence.

Then, a middle-aged thestral mare bedecked in jewellery and lavish furs glowered at Tempest from a couple of tables away. She was surrounded by a posse of diamond dogs in business suits, one of whom had a distinctly wolf-like head and looked the equal of a minotaur in upper-body strength. When she whispered in his ear, he growled an affirmative and pulled out an enormous, spiked club from underneath the table.

“I suppose that leaves us no choice but to teach you a lesson.” The mare graced them with a sadistic smile. “It’s been a while since my boys have had some exercise, and dear Fluffy over here has been rather antsy all evening.”

“Now, wait a minute!” cried a portly earth pony as he came cantering into the restaurant from the staff quarters. “If you all would just kindly take this outside—”

The manager’s protestations abruptly ceased when Fluffy viciously brandished his spiked club and snarled, “Smashing time!”

Emboldened by his display, the other hirelings drew their own weapons or charged up their magic, jeering and hollering as they psyched themselves up for a brawl.

Mares screamed. Stallions shouted. The entirety of the staff fled to the kitchen at the back, whilst the guest couples cowered in the corners of the restaurant or sought refuge in the restrooms. A few, including the three thugs from earlier, simply sat frozen in their seats with glazed eyes, as if they couldn’t quite comprehend the situation they’d found themselves in.

Tempest, however, stood unfazed by the chaos.

She simply looked at Pharynx and stepped away from their table, at which point he stepped forward and shoved it aside with the sheer force of his rapid expansion as he transformed into his hulking hornet-scorpion form. He then screeched at their adversaries, forcing many of the batponies and diamond dogs to flinch and flatten their ears.

Tempest grinned back at the now-hesitant mob. “Mine’s bigger.”

For a moment, everyone stood still, at an impasse. Aside from a few muttered curses, nobody said a word. Then, a stack of plates shattered in the background.

“Get ’em!” someone shouted.

The mob charged, and Tempest barked a warning before snapping her eyes shut and firing a broad volley of sparks at them. A series of loud bangs accompanied the bright flashes that penetrated her eyelids, followed by a cacophony of grunts, yips and howls.

When she opened her eyes, she found many of her blinded adversaries sprawled on the floor and heaped against the furniture and one another. Those who’d flown were hovering and cursing as they blinked their teared-up eyes. Most had dropped their weapons, and the few unicorns had either misfired or outright aborted their spells.

Time to go to work.

Tempest advanced with Pharynx taking point. His bulk shielded her from most attacks, and he had the reach and strength to clear space with his massive, crablike claws whenever the mob threatened to surround and literally dogpile them. For her part, she guarded his rear and flanks, kicking, shoving and zapping anyone who’d otherwise have landed a successful sneak attack.

Whenever she could, she struck her enemies in their pressure points or most susceptible bits of anatomy within reach, by hoof of with magic, incapacitating them with combinations of nervous disruption, impaired breathing or sheer, exquisite pain. Pharynx, on the other hoof, preferred to induce catatonia by introducing their faces to furniture at extreme velocity. Fluffy got his head rammed clean through the middle of a table before passing out.

One by one, they whittled down resistance, but the numbers were still stacked against them.

She’d counted thirty-odd opponents of credible threat, and by the time they were done with half of them, the rest were beginning to take a toll.

Pharynx was her armour, but even though he intercepted blows from their strongest adversaries, he could not guard her from every angle. Her dress afforded no protection against their weapons, and she steadily racked up an assortment of cuts and bruises from knives, hooves, fists and claws. Worse still, a few amongst them were strong enough to hurt Pharynx with blunt force even through his tough chitin. His pained screeches felt like needles in her heart, which led to sloppy mistakes and even more injuries.

She hadn’t anticipated their relationship having this much of an impact on their combat effectiveness.

Even with backup on the way, one bad mistake might cascade into a series of disasters that led to her being taken hostage before their arrival, and if that happened, Pharynx probably would do anything to appease her captors and keep her from further harm…

Shit.

Then, as if out of nowhere, a griffon pounced on her back and sent her tumbling away from Pharynx. They grappled and rolled, knocking over chairs in the process, until they halted with the griffon straddling her belly.

Shit!

“Nighty-night, sweetheart!” he crowed as he raised his talons to rake her face.

Then, a plate sailed into his temple and shattered into a hundred pieces. He turned to face the source of distraction and barely managed to squawk before a flying wine bottle smashed into his forehead, drenching him in liquor and making him go cross-eyed with his tongue hanging out.

Tempest shoved his limp body off herself and saw the shadowy silhouette of a pegasus stallion looming in his place.

It then stretched out a foreleg to her. “Need a hoof?”

She blinked. It was one of the thugs who’d confronted her earlier. All trace of bewilderment had vanished from his face, replaced by a calm alertness that was in stark contrast to the chaos around them.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked as she took his hoof and sat up on her haunches.

“Uh…”

Tempest grabbed his mane and yanked him down just in time to avoid getting struck in the neck by a magic bolt. A second later, his pegasus companion leapt into view and overturned a nearby table so that they could scoot over and huddle behind it for cover.

“You guys aren’t civilians,” she said, frowning. “Who’re you?”

“Crystal Empire Militia, Division Six,” said the other stallion. “He’s Nimbus, I’m Feldspar, and that’s Greg.”

She heard a meaty thud followed by a yelp, right before a griffon vaulted over their table and crouched beside her.

“Thought you might appreciate the assist,” said Greg, wincing as he plucked a four-inch splinter from his bleeding thigh. “Sorry, lieutenant, but we had absolutely no idea we were tromping in on a covert op. Would’ve stayed out of your mane if we’d known.”

Tempest nodded and peered over the top of their cover. The mob had given Pharynx a wide berth and continuously bombarded him with anything they could get their hooves and hands on whilst they regrouped with their bosses near the restrooms.

“We’ll sort that out later,” she said. “Right now, we need to—”

“Taste my power, monster!” someone cried.

Then, a blinding flash of red light forced Tempest to shield her eyes. She heard a loud hiss and the rippling hum of magic, followed by crunching wood and a heavy thud.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a plume of green fire that left Pharynx in his normal form, sprawled across a slanted table as red magic crackled and arced over his chitin. With a groan, he stirred and rolled down the slope, leaving a long smear of gravy and condiments in his wake.

“Oh, hayseed,” Nimbus muttered, wide-eyed as he stared at the source of that magical attack.

One of the unicorns hovered a full metre in the air, engulfed in an aura of magic that resembled red, boiling oil filled with inky, black splotches. His eyes glowed white with reddish coronas, and his previously slick mane fanned out and waved as if he was floating underwater. A black pendant with scintillating runes on its surface hung from a silver chain that fit snugly around his neck.

“Oh, that’s just not fair!” Feldspar cried.

Then, the unicorn locked eyes with Tempest, and his horn blazed to life with red and black energy.

“Move!”

They barely had enough time to scramble away from the table before the empowered unicorn cratered it with an eldritch blast, which sent them sprawling across the carpeted floor nearly three metres away. Tempest could almost hear the sinister whispers as the magical residue evaporated along with the shower of wooden splinters and ceramic fragments, despite the cheering from the mobsters.

“Hold still, cretins!” The unicorn’s voice rippled with power as he fired a continuous beam of eldritch energy at them.

They scattered, and Tempest quickly realised that the unicorn was aiming for her, since he kept the beam hot on her tail as she dashed and zigzagged around broken chairs and overturned tables. Fortunately, he didn’t have enough juice to keep it up for more than three or four seconds, though she could tell from his clenched teeth and focused glare that he was mustering the will to make another attempt.

Could she close the distance between them before he managed another destructive beam? Definitely not with his cronies chucking the odd projectile at her every now and then, and Pharynx was still out of commission. She’d most likely have to bait him into burning himself out before she could take him down, and hope that he didn’t switch targets to someone less agile…

“All right, everypony, that’s enough!”

Tempest turned towards the new voice and frowned when she saw a hooded figure standing in another corner of the restaurant, roughly at right angles from the space between her original table and the mob.

The figure tore off its hooded cloak and then spread her wings wide in a protective stance whilst some of the non-combatant guests hid amongst the furniture behind her, and her horn simmered with purple magic.

Tempest’s jaw dropped. “Boss?”

“Say, ain’t that the new princess?” a diamond dog wondered aloud.

“Oh, we are so boned…”

“It’s just one puny princess,” cried the empowered unicorn. “Get off your flanks and attack! We can still take all of them!”

His henchmen hesitated.

Twilight stepped forward. “Mister, please take off that pendant. It’s a Class Four relic with corrupting side effects, and it’s extremely dangerous for untrained users!”

“I’ll show you extremely dangerous!”

Tempest leapt forward just as the unicorn unleashed a blast at Twilight, feeling her gut twist with the realisation that she would never make it in time to get her out of harm’s way. Then, she gasped and skidded to a halt when Twilight fired her own beam of magic.

The two beams clashed, but instead of exploding outward as Tempest had expected, they merged into one continuous stream, with the energy flowing towards Twilight. The seething, angry red magic gradually paled and calmed as it passed the midway point, turning purple and almost water-like before spiralling into Twilight’s horn.

“Wait, what are you doing?” The unicorn flinched and backpedalled, but remained glued to the spot as more and more red magic leaked out of his horn and the pendant. “You idiots, stop her!”

A particularly enterprising pair of goons, one griffon and one thestral, leapt into the air and dove towards Twilight. Tempest zapped the griff in mid-air with a stun bolt, jumped onto a table and then launched herself off it in order to intercept the batpony with a tackle before he could bash Twilight with a broken chair leg. The griffon crashed onto a table, twitching, whilst Tempest grappled with Twilight’s would-be assailant on the floor, kicking and punching each other until she landed a good hit on his solar plexus and temporarily paralysed him.

That was all the time Twilight needed.

A final burst of red light erupted from the pendant as it unclasped itself from around the unicorn’s neck, and it sailed towards Twilight in an incandescent cloud of purple magic that bubbled with green and black splotches. Its chain went around her neck and its clasp snapped shut whilst Twilight hovered in the air without the use of her wings, inhaling deeply as the last traces of magic spiralled into her horn and her nostrils.

Then, as soon as the magic vanished, Twilight dropped back onto all fours and grimaced as if she’d just swallowed something rancid. The pendant remained black and dormant around her neck, though some traces of gangrenous magic still sparkled on her horn.

“My power! What have you done?” cried the unicorn as he frantically groped at his neck. He then smacked a stout earth pony on the head and bellowed, “Get it back from her!”

If any of the henchmen had entertained any notions of taking on Princess Twilight with a cursed relic around her neck, they’d most certainly dropped them like hot coals when she stomped a hoof irritably and cracked the floor beneath an expanding ring of ignited carpet.

“Oops!” Twilight grinned sheepishly and hastily stamped out the purple flames before clearing her throat and schooling her face into a stern expression. “Okay, can we all call it quits for tonight? The police are here, and I’m sure that nopony wants to add more charges to their list of misdemeanours.”

Indeed, Tempest could finally hear the chatter of voices and stomping of hooves outside, signalling the arrival of her backup.

Shadows flitted outside the windows and red and blue lights flashed in the background. Then, the door burst open, and in poured a dozen ponies in uniform who shouted, “Fillydelphia Police, everypony on the floor, right now!”

The pack of criminals huddled in a defensive circle, most of whom still clutched their weapons as they muttered and whispered amongst themselves. The bosses, however, were busy rifling through their saddlebags and lockboxes, probably in search of another relic that they might wield against Twilight and the police.

But their last ditch efforts were cut short when a dark blue alicorn imperiously strode past the police and froze them all with a baleful glare.

One squat diamond dog dropped the spellbook he was flipping through and moaned, “Oh dog, it’s another one… they’re crawling out of the dogdamned walls!”

“What foul enterprise is this?” Princess Luna bellowed, looking from one criminal to the next. Then, she stomped a hoof when she saw Twilight’s ruffled state. “And to attack one of Equestria’s sovereigns, no less. The sheer gall of it! I would see you all banished to the abyss for this transgression!”

In an instant, all of the thestrals dropped their weapons and prostrated themselves before Princess Luna, squeaking and wailing and sobbing as they begged for mercy. Then, deprived of nearly half of their remaining comrades, the others followed suit and surrendered.

From there, Tempest only had to watch as the police swarmed in to secure the criminals and escort everyone else out under Luna’s watchful gaze. Paramedics arrived soon after to tend to those who’d been knocked out in the fight. Some of them looked a little unnerved by Luna’s presence, and for good reason; she did not look particularly happy with the variety of illegal substances they were confiscating.

Speaking of contraband…

Twilight was sitting at one of the few intact tables, sipping from a glass of wine as she watched the proceedings with an off-kilter smile. The pendant was glowing softly again.

“Boss!” Tempest dashed over to her and nearly bowled over a startled paramedic in her haste. Then, when she saw Twilight’s rigid posture, twitching wings and contracted pupils, she carefully sat next to her and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Well… I just found myself smack in the middle of a raid-turned-tavern-brawl—apparently orchestrated by my personal guard, I must add—that’s resulted in damages to private property, bodily harm and multiple arrests!”

Twilight grimaced and shut her eyes as her horn and the pendant flared in synchrony, and then subsided with a fit of hysterical giggling. “Oh, and I’m currently having a conversation with an evil relic promising me unlimited power in exchange for devoting the rest of my life to the consumption of the essences of sapient beings. It’s not being terribly logical about it, but I’ll give it an A-plus for effort in trying to brute-force its way through the defences I’d prepared. Aside from that, everything’s just peachy!”

Twilight then turned to an approaching figure and waved. “Oh, hi, Luna. Fancy seeing you here!”

“We could say the same about you,” said Princess Luna as she sat down with them. “This hardly seems the sort of place you would frequent.”

“Oh, you know…” Twilight waved a hoof dismissively and took another gulp of wine. “Sometimes you just need to stalk your bodyguard because you went into her office and found documents referencing criminal activities taking place in an out-of-town venue that happens to be in the same city and on the same day that she told you was supposed to be her date with a special somebuggy, leading you to suspect that she wasn’t being entirely honest and having all kinds of paranoid ideas about her slipping back into her old ways and stuff.”

Tempest winced. “Sorry. Didn’t want to trouble you, and I just wanted Pharynx and I to—”

Pharynx!

She sat bolt upright, ears flat as she scanned the restaurant. “Damn it, I forgot about him!”

“He’s fine,” said Princess Luna.

She flashed with green fire, and in her place sat Pharynx, smirking whilst Twilight’s jaw dropped.

“Why, you little hayseed—that was a dirty trick!” one of the criminals cried.

“You’re just mad because you couldn’t stop giving me the salute from down under!” Pharynx shot back as the thestral was hauled away in cuffs, furiously sputtering out a denial.

Most of the police officers had paused to watch with mild fascination when he transformed, with only a few actually balking to stare, and they were quick to get back to work once they’d satisfied their curiosity. Credit where it was due: their superiors had properly informed them of the fact that Tempest was working with a changeling in the field.

She gave Pharynx a quick once-over and sighed when she found nothing more than some minor scuffing and dents on his chitin.

“Okay, that was some good misdirection. I’m almost mad that I didn’t see it coming,” she said with a half-scowl. “You had me worried for a second.”

“Your concern was delicious, though.” He licked his lips and grinned as he rubbed his belly. “I’m feeling better already!”

“But I—what?” Twilight cried, shaking her head as she frantically looked from Tempest to Pharynx and to the officers milling around them. She then covered her mouth with a hoof and mumbled, “And did I just admit to stalking you? Aargh!”

Twilight raised a hoof to forestall questions and glared at the pendant. “S’cuse me a minute. Can’t think with this thing around my neck…”

She unfastened the clasp and tugged on the pendant with her magic. She winced when the chain necklace went taut, but she kept pulling it inch by agonising inch away from her neck, as if it was a powerful magnet attracted to her flesh. Then, it crossed an invisible threshold and released all that tension with an audible snap, leaving Twilight gasping for breath as she held it away at arm’s length.

She then summoned a lockbox, tossed in the pendant and snapped the lid shut. “Phew, that’s better!”

With the relic out of the way, all the tension leaked out of her like water from a punctured balloon, and Twilight slumped against the table with palpable relief. Her pupils dilated back to normal proportions, and even though her hair remained frazzled with residual magic, at least it looked more like a case of minor sleep deprivation rather than some eldritch mania.

Then, Twilight’s eyes shot wide open and her jaw dropped as she quickly scanned Tempest from horn to hoof. “Oh no, you’re bleeding! And your dress—it’s ruined!”

Tempest looked down and shrugged when she saw the numerous rips, tears and cuts on her dress, in addition to food stains and a few wet patches of blood. She had many superficial lacerations, most of which had already stopped bleeding. She would definitely feel the bruises in the morning, though.

“Unfortunate collateral,” she replied. “I’ll have to apologise to Rarity.”

“Speaking of apologies…” Pharynx interjected, giving Twilight a pointed look. “Didn’t you just admit that you were stalking us?”

“Yeah, about that…” Twilight ruffled her wings and chewed her lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, but to be fair, you actually were up to something that looked really questionable to an outside observer. I mean, what was I supposed to think when I saw those shipping manifests and missives to shady ponies on your desk? And that was on top of those audial scrying gems you asked for!”

“How’d you do it?” asked Pharynx. “I thought I’d tasted your nervousness back there, but I never saw you once. Were you invisible?”

Twilight shook her head. “Oh, no, that’ll be the Wallflower spell. In some ways, it’s even better than invisibility or silence, because it simply makes the user incredibly uninteresting to casual observers. You both came close to seeing through the spell a couple of times, though.”

“So, you were in here with us the whole time?”

“Most of it. And, uh, practically all of the way from the Fillydelphia Station. I took such a long time to get involved because I was having a panic attack, and then I got hit by your flashbang spells.” Twilight massaged her temples and scrunched her eyes. “They really hurt.”

A moment of silence, then…

“You know, you could’ve just stopped me and demanded an explanation at any point, right?” Tempest cocked an eyebrow. “I would’ve called it off if you gave the order.”

Twilight groaned. “I know, but I didn’t want to look silly if it turned out that you weren’t up to anything. And also…” – here, she averted her eyes and gingerly tapped her hooves together – “I’ve never gone on a date before, despite reading way too many books on the subject. I suddenly had the idea of conducting field research on the… reliability of those books whilst making sure you weren’t getting into trouble. You know, efficiency!”

More silence.

Then, Pharynx chuckled and said, “You should’ve been hatched a changeling.”

Twilight blinked. “What?”

“I mean, you seem to have a thing for spying on ponies getting together,” he continued, grinning all the while. “Did you at least enjoy the show? I bet you were eavesdropping with magic, too!”

Twilight turned beet-red and hid her face with her wings.

“Okay, knock it off,” said Tempest. “I think we can all agree that there’s plenty of fault to go around.”

“Speak for yourselves.” Pharynx leaned back in his chair and patted himself on the chest. “Innocent changeling right here!”

Tempest had no retort to that, but she was spared the need to do so when she noticed several figures approaching their table from the corner of her vision. She turned and saw a large, uniformed earth stallion leading the group.

He saluted. “Lieutenant Tempest.”

She nodded. “Inspector General.”

“These fellows say that they’re with you,” he said, gesturing to the two pegasi and griffon standing behind him, flanked by another pair of burly police mares. “Were they in on the op as well? Couldn’t find any ID on them.”

Feldspar raised a primary feather and sheepishly said, “Crystal Empire Militia don’t typically get IDs apart from our uniforms—we’re still a little behind the times—and we aren’t wearing them right now because we’re under cover.”

Tempest narrowed her eyes. “What’s your business here? I had no contact with the Crystal Empire for this operation.”

“Uh…”

Tempest gave Twilight and Pharynx a cursory glance and realised that neither of them showed any recognition for the militia. And judging by their nervous fidgeting, they didn’t have any unannounced ties with Twilight or Pharynx, either.

“You three aren’t crystal ponies,” she pointed out.

“We’re still Crystal Empire citizens,” said Greg, puffing out his chest. “We serve just the same as the sparkly guys. Been living there for almost as long as it’s been back from limbo.”

“And the Storm King never made it to the Crystal Empire, so what was all that talk about me destroying your homes and stuff?”

Nimbus opened his mouth, then snapped it shut when he saw Inspector General scowling at him.

Tempest suppressed a grin. She had them by the marbles, and they knew it. One word, and they’d be hauled off for processing with the rest of the criminals.

“So… let’s try this again.” She rested her elbow on the table and propped up her chin on her fetlock. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Nimbus gulped. “Princess Cadance, she wanted us to—”

“Shut it!” hissed Greg.

“The Princess of Food?” Pharynx tilted his head. “What does she have to do with this?”

Feldspar scowled at his companions and shook his head. “Okay, fine. I guess there’s no harm in telling you now…

“We were ordered to tail both of you and keep an eye on how your date was proceeding. If things got iffy between you, we were supposed to create a confrontation or a disturbance of some sort that would provoke the two of you into working together to keep the peace or eliminate the threat.”

“What?” Twilight shrieked. She then cringed when all eyes turned to her and tried to burrow her face into the table. “Oh, stars above, that mare is out of control…”

“I swear, we had no idea that you were planning an operation of your own,” Feldspar continued after giving Twilight a nervous glance. “So… yeah. Funny how that turned out.”

“That was reckless!” Twilight cried, flaring her wings.

Greg shrugged. “The hazard pay was good. Upfront, too, plus guaranteed coverage of medical bills and fines racked up while on the job.”

“How’d you get the timing right?” Twilight demanded. “Tempest didn’t inform me until a couple of days before, and I never said a word to Cadance!”

“Thorax…” Pharynx growled. “He’s probably been getting tips from her on my behalf. He knew my schedule, and of course she would dig that info out of him.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you three were basically sent here to be unsolicited chaperones for a couple of high-ranking officials from allied nations, in a city that isn’t part of your sovereign territory. Do I have that right?” Tempest rounded on them and raised an eyebrow. “She sent you to spy on us.”

Feldspar gestured vaguely with a hoof. “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way…”

Tempest narrowed her eyes. “She sent you to spy on us.”

He opened his mouth, paused for a couple of seconds and then deflated. “She sent us to spy on you.”

“Point of contact?”

“We had you marked from the train station. We knew how to keep our distance.”

“And how’d you get past the bouncer?”

“How else? Griffons love gold,” said Nimbus. “And the princess gave us plenty just for contingencies like this.”

Tempest huffed and shook her head. “Figures. I wasn’t imagining things after all…”

Then, everyone jumped when Pharynx suddenly burst out laughing.

“Hah! This is rich!” he said in between gasps for breath. “I can’t believe that I’m actually the least duplicitous guy in this room!”

“I’m confused, Inspector,” said one of the police mares as she flipped back and forth between looking to her superior for instructions and giving concerned sidelong glances to Pharynx. “Are we supposed to arrest these guys or not?”

“It’s fine, Inspector General. I’ll take them off your hooves.” Tempest beckoned the militia to seat themselves and then saluted the officers. “Been a pleasure working with you fillies and gentlecolts tonight. I’ll have the paperwork and evidence sent to the FPD tomorrow.”

“Works for me.” The inspector general smiled and tipped his hat when he met Twilight’s eyes. “Princess Twilight, Lieutenant Tempest, you all have yourselves a good evening. If there’s anything else you need, we’ll be around all night locking this place down and taking statements.

“Oh, and General Pharynx? If any of your folks are thinking about joining the force, please send them my way. You’ve just given me a new appreciation for what your people can do for law enforcement.”

With that said, he turned and took his subordinates with him, leaving them all in relative peace at their table whilst surrounded by a hive of activity as the police began combing through the debris for anything they might’ve missed.

“So… uh, thanks for covering our flanks,” said Nimbus. “Princess Cadance did say that we’d get royal pardons in advance, but she’d still appreciate not having any paperwork if we could avoid it.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, forestalling any protestations with a wave of her hoof. “Seriously, don’t. I don’t need the paperwork, either.”

By then, Pharynx had finally gotten most of the guffaws out of his system, and apparently swung all the way around to a melancholy disposition as he start blankly at nothing in particular. He then groaned and cradled his head with his hooves. “Oh grub, the changeling’s the least duplicitous one amongst a bunch of ponies. We’ve really fallen far, haven’t we? I’m a disgrace to the hive…”

“Or maybe you just lack imagination…” Twilight muttered.

Pharynx froze, and then slowly lifted his head to stare at her. “Did… did the Princess of Friendship just insult me to my face?”

Twilight’s eyes shot wide open.

But before she could stammer out an apology, Pharynx cracked a grin, thumped his hoof on the table and pointed it at her in triumph. “There, that! There’s hope for you after all. I’m so proud of you. Now, if you could teach Thorax to snark like that, I might even ease up on border security with Equestria when I get back to the hive!”

Twilight simply sighed and downed the rest of her wine.

“So, not that we’re in a position to ask, but… what happens now?” asked Greg.

Tempest and Pharynx shared a look.

Then, he sidled up and put a hoof around her shoulder, saying, “I want to spend the rest of the night with my special somepony. So, get lost.”

Feldspar sucked in a breath through his nostrils, then stood up and sighed. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Nimbus and Greg got up as well and politely dipped their heads before following Feldspar. Neither the police nor the remaining staff attempted to stop them. But when they were halfway to the door, Pharynx drew their gazes back with a shrill whistle.

“And by the way, tell your princess that the next time I catch anyone spying on me and Tempest, I’ll have them podded up and mailed back to her with eggs laid inside them.” He then grinned and added, “You three, however, are welcome to drop by and visit anytime. I might even get you a beer, or whatever it is you mammals like to drink.”

After a moment, Nimbus and Feldspar nodded with dubious smiles on their muzzles. Greg simply settled for a thumbs-up, and they all trotted out the door.

“I guess I’d better get busy, too.” Twilight stood up and summoned her discarded cloak. “These officers might need my help if they come across any more cursed artefacts.”

“Will you need an escort home once you’re done?” asked Tempest.

“We’re in Fillydelphia, not Kludgetown. I think I can make my way home in one piece,” Twilight retorted with a rueful smile. Then, she put a hoof to her chin and mumbled, “But… maybe it’s best if you tell me where you’ll be for the next few hours, in case we discover another den of hardened criminals hiding somewhere inside this mansion.”

“We’ll be outside in the park. Just send up a flare and I’ll find you.”

“Outside?” Twilight tilted her head as Tempest and Pharynx rose and began walking out. “Hang on, are you sure you don’t want to find another nice restaurant to pick up where you left off? I think I can recommend a few places on Glitter Street that’s only fifteen minutes away from here, or you could try—”

“It’s all right, Princess. The park’s better than any restaurant,” said Pharynx.

“Better? In what way?” Twilight blinked. “You’re not thinking about eating grass, are you?”

“Yuck, no!” Pharynx briefly met Tempest’s eyes before he turned back to Twilight and bobbed his head vaguely. “I just want to do… stuff.”

Tempest got his drift almost immediately, and narrowed her eyes whilst Twilight continued giving him a blank look. When he noticed Tempest frowning, the corners of his lips curled up, and his eyes twinkled with mischief.

Fine.

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Tempest turned to Twilight and said, “I’m Stuff.”

“Huh? What are you—” Twilight squeaked and went bright red. A stiff grin then worked its way onto her muzzle as she giggled nervously and said, “Oh. Oooh. Uh, have fun… I guess?”

Tempest gave her a casual salute. “Will do, boss.”

She trotted out the door with Pharynx by her side and Twilight’s burning gaze on her back. She probably could’ve fried eggs on Twilight’s cheeks.

Before leaving, though, she did make sure to pass all of her remaining bits to the bewildered restaurant manager; there was more than enough to cover their meals, and arrangements had already been made with the police in the event that the Wellspring Club saw fit to hold her liable for damages.

The police had set a clear perimeter around the mansion, but aside from giving them a few wary looks, nopony contested their departure from the area.

Once they were out of earshot, Tempest shook her head and said, “That was mean. Twilight’s going to be awkward around me for days. I owe her an apology.”

He sniggered. “You enjoyed it.”

“I know. You’re a terrible influence on me.”

He trotted right up alongside her and transformed his left wing into a feathery one, which he then draped warmly over her back.

Together, they slowed to a silent, leisurely walk and exited the mansion’s grounds by taking one of the gravel pathways to the park. Crickets were chirping all around, and the sky had darkened to a moonless, abyssal-blue sea filled with countless stars. The trees occasionally danced and rustled in a chilly breeze that carried the faint scent of night flowers.

The park was mostly deserted by then, save for a few couples here and there who discreetly made themselves scarce at the sight of them—probably in no small part due to her torn, bloodied dress and Pharynx’s classical changeling form.

Despite knowing that Twilight would’ve disapproved, Tempest couldn’t help smiling at the thought of how they must’ve looked to others whenever they trotted out of the darkness and into the dim light cast by the lampposts at intervals along the pathway. Friendship was superior, but there was nevertheless something about being feared that spoke to her on a primal level.

“Don’t feel guilty. A queen should be feared as much as she is loved,” Pharynx quipped.

“Reading the mood again, huh?”

“Oh, yes.” He chuckled evilly and leaned close to whisper into her ear. “If you like that kind of thing, there’s always more of it to be found in, I don’t know, starting a war? I hear conquest is a great way to feed your ego.”

Tempest slowed and gave him a mockingly stern look. “You really love dancing on the edge between flattery and insult, don’t you? And treason as well. It’s going to get you killed one day.”

“Hey, you have very specific taste.”

She snorted and thumped him on the shoulder.

Then, she pointed to a grassy hillock off to the side of the path and said, “Fine. As part of my new, glorious conquest, we’re taking that hill right there.”

Pharynx bowed. “As my queen commands.”

The grass felt cool and springy as she sat on her haunches, side by side with him as they gazed at the stars. But when they started nuzzling and caressing, an involuntary hiss escaped her when some of his feathers poked into one of her wounds.

Pharynx immediately transformed his wing back to normal with an apologetic chirp and motioned for her to take the dress off and lay down on the grass.

She did so without complaint, and he began rubbing his forelegs together around the holes. Thick, glistening strands stretched between them when he pulled his forelegs apart, which he collected and pressed between his hooves. He then gently stroked her bruises, leaving patches of warm, soothing ooze on her skin that tingled as they rapidly cooled and dried up.

When he started licking her cuts to clean them before applying the resin, she reciprocated by caressing his neck and gently nibbling on his ears. Changeling exoskeleton wasn’t normally the most pleasant thing to cuddle with, but this time he’d altered his chitin’s pliancy and texture until he felt more like a big, velvety plush toy filled with warm dough.

She then widened her eyes when his diaphanous wings twitched and vibrated, filling her ears with low thrums and clicks. Then, she felt him droning and chirping through his chest, almost independently of his steady breathing. There was a distinct melody to it, mournful and filled with yearning, with a secondary tune that almost sounded like foreign lyrics if she ignored the part of her brain insisting that they were just insect noises.

At some point, she found his lips again, and this time, they didn’t stop.

Not until her eyelids had grown heavy, and she’d curled up in the secure warmth of his embrace, still listening to the song of his heart.

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the long wait.

Hope the length somewhat makes up for it.