“Follow our words. Close your eyes and let our voice guide you inward.” Luna's crown, and the magic jewel within it, lit up with a magnificent series of white rays, which flooded the training field and the trainees' minds with the energy of a potent sleep spell.

When the dazzling light cleared, Ensign Brandywine Breeze found herself flying through the air, much like the usual training dreams, in which she and her squadron practiced formations and maneuvers under Luna's watchful gaze. The five of them were flying next to her as always, but this time felt different. Not only was Luna nowhere in sight, but the air tasted stale, and the sky had a subtle orange tint to it. It was like a sunset, except there was no sun visible, nor a moon. As she pondered where the light could be coming from, she noticed a flicker of movement to the side. There was a gigantic black thunderhead at her nine'o'clock, which she had somehow completely missed until now, and something big was moving inside.

Scanning the area in the intermittent flashes of lightning coming from within the cloud, Brandywine got a better look at it. Or them. They were long, wispy forms that seemed to be made of purple ink, and they flowed just as quickly. There were a lot of them.

“Do you all see that?” she said to the rest of her flight. They turned and nodded, as surprised by the sight as she had been. “We should take a look.”

“Yes, it could be trouble,” the squadron commander said. “Everypony stay in tight formation. We're going in.”

Banking to the left, the pegasi swept straight toward the enormous cloud. Even before they drew closer, it seemed to grow and expand, until it was filling their entire field of vision. Brandywine rested a hoof on the spear bound tightly to her flank, getting ready to either tighten or unlimber the weapon at a moment's notice, depending on whether she would need to charge or fend off a close attack.

At the exact moment that the weight of the steel started to become reassuring, she heard a loud scream in between the strikes of lightning. It was coming from inside the cloud. The commander altered course toward it, and Brandywine and the others followed, forming a sharp arrowhead flying straight at the source of the scream.

They made contact with the cloud, and it was like trying to fly through molasses, and about as easy to see through too. A lightning bolt flashed in front of the squadron, narrowly missing them, but still singing off half the mane of the lead pony. He flew on at the same speed though, even increasing it as they heard another scream, thick and distorted by the atmosphere around them. They could start to make out words in it.

“Brandy!” a stallion's voice shouted. “Brandy, where are you?”

“Dad?” In her confusion, she fell slightly behind the others, but quickly recovered her composure and joined them again. They looked at her, just as confused.

“They took Gale!” he said from off in the distance, relief mingling with the terror already in his voice. “We have to find her!”

“Where did they take her?” Brandywine shouted back.

“I think they took her up, but I can't tell which way is up in here.”

She could vaguely recall which direction was up, so she immediately started flapping her wings harder to generate more lift. She expected the rest of the squadron to follow her, but they were still flying toward the voice of her father.

“Ensign Breeze,” the commander called out. “Get back in formation!”

“Come on, it's this wa—“ She was cut off by the sound of a foal screaming, which came, as her father had thought, from somewhere up above.

“Don't worry, little sister! I'm coming for you!” She grit her teeth and flew faster, dimly aware that it was faster than she ever could have flown in the real world. Something about that nagged at the back of her mind.

“Breeze! Back down here, now!” She did not hear him calling to her, his voice lost amid the crashes of thunder all around them. All she could clearly hear was Gale's crying. With a twitch of frustration, he started leading the rest of the squadron upward as well to try to catch up to Brandywine.

The crying grew louder and louder, both because she was getting closer, and because Gale was in more and more distress. Finally, she tore through a break in the cloud and came to the source: a pair of the inky, formless monsters she had seen before, which were perfectly mimicking pony sounds. Gale was nowhere in sight. It was only one of the shadows, crying in that high-pitched wail Brandywine had come to know so well before marching off to war. The shape continued crying just like her younger sister as it advanced on her, forming sharp, jagged pseudopods on its body.

“Get out of the cloud!” she screamed down to the rest of the squadron. “It's a trap!”

More shadows flowed into being around her, and down in the path of her comrades. They were all forming their bodies into menacing instruments that seemed designed to inflict maximum pain. She turned away from the ones in the cloud clearing, earning some deep, agonizing scores along her flanks in the process, but she was quick enough that she could still make it down to intercept the monsters heading toward the other recruits.

Brandywine put all the force of gravity and her body together into one powerful buck into the nearest one. The thing shimmered and shook from the impact, causing it to lose its aim on her wingpony. It whirled around and drove its cleaver-shaped appendage right into her gut instead. It was so cold, as if it were sucking all the warmth out of her. She summoned every once of the strength she had left to kick it off, sending it spiraling down back into the cloud. She shouted at the others to get out while she held them back. She turned to face the next one that was about to attack her squadron.

“Brandy, behind you!” her wingpony cried.

She kicked back without thinking, her strike finding home on something. But that something, or one of the countless others now materializing around it, grabbed hold of one of her hindlegs and chopped it cleanly off. Her scream was cut short as a swirling purple razor sawed its way across her throat.

She was trying to scream in the dream, and as she woke up, her effort resulted in a deafening screech of pain and horror. Brandywine was held back from bolting away by a set of dark, strong legs. Her eyes darted around wildly, expecting the monsters to have somehow followed her into the real world, but instead they saw Queen Luna's face, which was set in a stony featureless-ness. Luna was speaking to her, and Brandywine managed to hear the words even over her own howling.

“Focus, Ensign,” said the quiet, rock-solid voice of the Queen. “Extend thy wings. Stretch them out.”

For a few moments, Brandywine kicked and bit at her own sovereign without thinking. Luna bore the assault without flinching, even when the strikes missed her plate armor and made contact with what little flesh she had exposed, keeping a firm grip the entire time. Eventually, it dawned on her that even if Luna were a monster in disguise, there was no escape from this hold. And the voice did not seem like that of a monster. She was unable to relax yet, but she did manage to follow the instructions and unfold her wings. They were clamped so tightly to her flank that it was like uncoiling a steel spring, but she did it.

“Wonderful,” Luna continued gently. “Now, focus on the sensations they are conveying. Feel the cool air of this night brush against thy feathers, as soft as thy infant sister's first breath.”

“How-how did you know about—“

“Mind that not,” Luna said, gradually easing her grip on her shaking soldier. “Pay attention to the air currents. Remember that thy young sibling will need to know about them when thou teachest her to fly.”

Brandywine let out a series of body-wracking sobs. After each one, her shivering became slightly less violent, until she was finally standing still in Luna's embrace. She was breathless and red-eyed, but her heartbeat was slowing down. She glanced around, suddenly acutely aware that everyone around was watching silently. Color flooded to her face and she dropped her head, as if instinctively trying to bury it. She felt the cold metal of Luna's hoofcap under her chin, lifting her head back up.

“Art thou calm now?” Luna asked.

Brandywine's cheeks were still burning, and her face was soaked with tears, but she had stopped crying and shaking. She nodded.

“Then tell me what went wrong.”

“There were too many of them.” Brandywine winced. “There was nothing I could do. I fought so hard, but there were just too many...”

“No. The enemy numbered less than thy squadron.” Luna kept her tone neutral, trying to make it a statement of facts, rather than a value judgment. “Because thou didst not stay in formation, these few were able to penetrate it and overwhelm thee and thy comrades from all sides.”

“I-I'm sorry, ma'am!” Brandywine's lip quivered slightly.

“Do not apologize,” Luna said, taking the hoof that had lifted the Ensign's head up and using it to brush her frazzled, sand-colored mane. “Mistakes will happen. That is the purpose of these exercises. That, and to suss out the true worth of our soldiers. To that end, sacrificing thyself to ensure the safety of the rest of thy squadron was a most noble act, with which I am greatly impressed. Once thou hast had time to rest and reflect, we shall perform the drill again. Remember thy mistake, but remember thy virtue as well.”

Luna stepped away several paces and saluted with one foreleg crossed over her brow. Brandywine Breeze returned the salute, trying to look professional despite her face's repeated twists into almost-smiling and almost-crying.

“Return to the training field in one hour,” said the Queen. “Dismissed.”

As Luna watched the young mare go, her heart raged with a mixture of pride and sorrow. She took a moment to shove it away, to push it down to the unconscious depths of her soul, then turned to the line of recruits that remained. Nineteen more squads of six ponies each remained before the death drills were done for the night. Each dream took only seconds, and was more of an emotional drain than a physical drain, so Luna had been going through hundreds of ponies each night. At this rate, her army of nearly eight thousand souls would have the minimum training they needed in less than a month. They would have to train more on the march before she could truly call them ready, but with as many enemies as Equestria had, she could not afford to wait any longer than that. She was thankful that the diamond dogs were such a disorganized rabble, which her relatively small, elite force would be ideal for fighting.

Luna hardened her heart and beckoned the next group forward, already wondering what she could do to manipulate them into making a fatal mistake. Each dream required an intimate, though temporary, connection to the pony's deepest thoughts. What she learned about each of them was nothing new, but the nature of the work made them seem like the most important thoughts in the world while she was within their minds.

This one's mother was unkind to him. He left home at a very young age, and his only support was another runaway. The runaway is here in the army somewhere... and now in this one's nightmare. What will he do when his best friend since childhood betrays him and sells him to the enemy?

These three siblings came together. How far will they go for each other? How much will they suffer, that the others might be delayed pain a moment longer? Which will be the first to kill for the others? The first to die?

This one joined the army to try to find something worth living for, or to die in the process. She has not found it, so she plans to hang herself unless she dies in the first battle. Will she be so keen on strangling herself when the slavers come and beat her to it, when she feels every moment of suffocation in the dream?

This one's brothers were taken by slavers. He has joined to seek vengeance. But can he raise his hoof against them when the slavers force his stronger brothers to fight him?

This one left his one true love behind, to whom he had just proposed. He believes he is fighting to keep her safe, but what if she is not as safe as he thinks she is?

This pony is full of passion and patriotism. The first time she saw Celestia with her own eyes, she decided to devote her life to civil service. Now she hopes to serve Equestria at the vanguard of an army of righteousness. She knows it will need her to fight, but what if all Equestria truly needs is for her to die?

On, and on, and on, the dreams went, destroying entire universes of memory and feeling. Everything the recruits thought to be good and sacred about themselves, as well as everything vile and shameful, was swept away in a maelstrom of torment until there was nothing left but tears and wreckage. In the eye of this storm stood the dark, shimmering form of the Queen of the Night, resplendent in her shining armor. Silently, using only her soulful gaze, she let them know what they would need to survive and rebuild. Obedience. She had been there before, more than once, that was what her eyes were telling them. She had had her spirit rent apart and consumed, and the only thing that had allowed her to continue on was obedience to a strict code of conduct. If they followed her path, she wordlessly promised them that then when death truly came for them, there would be no fear, nor shame, nor regret. When pain inevitably visited, they would have the tools they needed to defeat it.

When it was all over, and the exhausted recruits were back in their tents crying alone or—she hoped—comforting each other, Luna felt the deepest part of her spirit ready to burst. She needed to do something physical, to remind herself that she existed, that she was not just a wicked mare of darkness who brought death to innocent ponies, and she needed to do it now. Her frantic eyes settled on a team of earth ponies who were digging defenses for the base camp. She moved among the many large, white-canvas tents, toward the earth ponies, as fast as she could without drawing any strange looks from the soldiers going about their duties. When the engineers saluted her, Luna almost neglected to salute back before throwing herself into the hard labor.

Luna stripped off her boots and dug her hooves deep into the earth, scooping up huge sections of dirt and throwing them aside. Though her hooves lacked nerves, the magic of the earth pony part of her soul could still feel every speck of dirt and all its possibilities. Combined with its numberless siblings, it could provide nourishment for plants, or for worms. It could be walked upon. It could provide shelter. It could simply exist. Or, as was the case currently, it could be dug and fashioned into fortifications designed to defend against the slave-trading diamond dogs, who did not understand or appreciate its primordial magic. Not like the earth pony engineers beside her did.

The squad of six was also digging, making a wide trench around the perimeter of the Argent Army's new camp. The muggy night air was thick with the smell of sweat, both theirs and the Queen's. As nearly an hour passed, Luna could feel through the vibrations of the earth that their strokes were becoming slower and sloppier. She paused and gradually drew her breathing down, looking up at the gloriously bright full moon as she rested. A soft, easy smile came to her lips when she saw the shadows of a patrol of pegasi pass over the moon's face.

Luna noticed, with a slightly broader smile, that the ponies beside her did not stop their work when she did. Only when she commanded them to cease did their legs stop moving.

“Your shift is at an end,” she said, facing her soldiers as they came to attention. Some of their legs were quivering slightly, but they had spent just spent hours doing hard labor, after all. “Before you go—“she pointed at one of the six”—Engineer Bright. Tell us where the support beam for this section should be placed.”

The yellow-coated mare in question delivered a crisp “Yes, ma'am!”, then closed her eyes. Luna recognized the way the soldier's body began to sway. She was communing with the land, making herself one with its altered form. Luna wished she had more time and practice at it, because while it came naturally to earth ponies, it was difficult even for elder ones, much less for a pony who had been born a unicorn.

The engineer walked out of attention, which drew some reflexive, nervous gulps from her comrades. Luna made no sign that this was a breach of discipline, however, so they quickly relaxed, as much as they could with their legs locked and their eyes straight ahead, at least.

Engineer Bright swayed from one end of the trench to the other, letting the lay lines of the earth guide her movements. Finally, she stopped and opened her eyes. “Here, ma'am!” she said, tapping the ground with one of her hooves, then resuming her stoic posture.

“Excellent,” Luna replied. She had followed her soldier's movements closely, and having a collapsible beam there would indeed create a good choke point should any tunnelers try to assault the camp. “You are dismissed.”

The earth ponies shared a brief look, then the commander spoke. “Ma'am, we respectfully request to stay on for another shift.”

Luna suppressed her grin. It would be unseemly for them to know how happy the request made her. They must have noticed that she had not slept, and seldom rested, ever since becoming Queen. She did still tire, but sleep was an unnecessary luxury now, and with her secretive yet semi-regular diet of meat—including a delicious feast on a wild fox earlier—tiring was rare. So as she made the ponies around her work in shifts, she continued to toil at whatever tasks needed to be done with only brief breaks.

“It is time for another group to assume this duty,” she said. “While we appreciate your enthusiasm, we must deny your request. Go inform the next group scheduled, then retire.”

The soldiers each raised one foreleg up. She saluted as well, then watched them climb up the bank of their trench.

When the next team of earth ponies arrived, Luna spent a few minutes instructing them to erect a support beam and begin digging a tunnel perpendicular to the trench, and sloping down, deeper into the earth. She informed them that she was going to eat and rest for ten minutes, levitated her armored boots back onto her feet, then stalked off, wind rushing in her wake. She had to stop herself from galloping to her tent, forcing her steps to be measured and firm. The labor had helped, but not completely. Killing dozens of ponies, most barely into their twentieth year, was not so easily forgotten, even if the murders were only in dreams.

The Queen's campaign tent was a rich purple color outside, with gold embroidered along its pointed edges. That was the only concession she had made to her political position. Inside, there was nothing but the grass on which it was pitched, not even a rug or pillows, save for a plain brass basin in which to wash herself. She flung her crown on the grass as she dashed for the basin and plunged her head inside its lukewarm water. It almost relaxed her tense muscles, but a flashback of the last time she had been submerged in water suddenly assaulted her. She imagined the glassy eyes of the undead ponies that lived under the lake where she had faced Thin Mint, and she could feel their hooves on her body, trying to pull her farther down. Luna felt Thin Mint's hoof brush slowly through her mane.

She tore her head out of the water, choking back a scream. In her panic, she knocked the tub over, spilling its contents on the ground and herself.

“That's... not the entrance I was expecting,” someone said from the other side of the tent.

Luna cursed silently as she remembered that she had requested that Blueblood the Younger be brought to her tent tonight. He stood up straight and watched the scene with a studied indifference. Water was abundant where the army had camped, but most of it was from wild streams and lakes, and fine grooming was not in great supply, so his white coat had become stained and disheveled. She did not think he looked any worse for it; if anything, she liked him even more this way. It made him look rugged and dangerous.

“Pardon that outburst,” said Luna as she straightened herself up. She floated the crown back onto her head and clenched her abdomen, trying to force back the depression and panic that had almost seized control of her. “I have been working hard. That is all.”

“It's fine,” he said. A cough, then, “Do you mind if I ask why you had me brought here?” There was an edge to his voice that seemed both eager and frightened.

Luna cocked an eyebrow. “Not for that,” she said. “Such trysts do hold a certain appeal, but I greatly prefer the comfort and security of the figurative marital bed.”

Blueblood sighed. Whether the sigh was one of relief or of regret was hard for Luna to tell.

“Uh, actually, I meant why did you bring me along on the campaign at all?” he asked. “Especially if I'm going to spend all of my time alone and under constant guard. It seems highly unnecessary.”

“I did not wish to leave my attendants in charge of both thee and Celestia,” Luna replied cautiously. “Since this march would be too hard on my sister in her current state, that left thee to bring. I apologize for the extreme supervision, but it is necessary, considering the risks. Besides...”

He cocked his head as Luna paused for a couple seconds. She stared off to his side, unable to look directly at him.

“Remember how thou remarked that we know nothing about each other?” she finally asked. “Consider this... an opportunity to rectify that problem.”

She laid down on the ground, her body upright but relaxed, or as relaxed as it could be. It was easiest to forget her troubles during combat, but sometimes conversation also temporarily banished the demons.

“Come lie upon the grass with me,” she said softly, “and let us converse.”

“Do you have any pillows or anything?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck and surveying the nearly empty tent.

“Nay.” Luna looked him up and down disapprovingly. “What, didst thou never sleep upon the ground during thy duties as a commander?”

“We always stayed at a barracks when I was stationed at Canterlot,” said Blueblood, “and we stayed at the finest inns when I was patrolling my father's lands.”

Luna simply shook her head, not trusting herself to comment further on that matter. Instead, she looked at him and waited.

“Well, I suppose I can't get any dirtier.” Blueblood complied.

The two of them sat on the tall grass in silence for several moments. Luna opened her mouth to speak, but out of nowhere, she found that she could not think of anything to say that would not sound either condescending or meaningless to him. She stared at his scarred face and its one-and-a-half blue eyes, which shimmered with the reflected light of the stars in her nebulous mane. She soon realized that her cheeks were flushing. Really? she admonished herself. This is not thy first crush, Luna. At least she was not smiling bashfully at the ground and tracing heart shapes in the dirt. Why was this so difficult? Zecora had been so comfortable and easy to talk to...

Her body and mind immediately seized up as if caught in a trap. Blueblood tilted his head quizzically at Luna as she shivered. She felt more phantom sensations, this time of Zecora's legs tenderly wrapping around her as she wept over the death of her student. Zecora's muzzle brushed softly back and forth against her neck, and Luna started to grind her teeth. She preferred the previous tactile hallucinations. At least they did not come along with a heap of pleasant, unwelcome emotions. She swallowed the heavy lump in her throat and tried to ignore the false sensations, as well as Blueblood's extremely confused expression.

“So,” she finally got out. “Hast thou been married before?” O stars, she groaned inwardly. How romantic.

“I can't say I have, no,” said Blueblood, even more bewildered.

“That was an idiotic question,” Luna said, shaking her head. “Forget it. What I meant to ask was—if thou hadst been to wedding ceremonies before. I wish to know what they are like now, so that I do not inadvertently commit any breaches of etiquette.”

He looked down, then shook his shining yellow mane with a scoff. “They are dreadfully dull affairs, I'm afraid. Full of ponies who claim they want to get to know you, but who really only want your wealth or status. Or they're disasters, like the wedding of Princess Cadence and Shining Armor...” Unconsciously, Blueblood reached up to scratch his scar with the back of his forefoot. “You're not a changeling, right?” There was a jesting air to his question, but also a paranoid, fearful edge at the back of his voice.

“That is not possible,” Luna said. “No mere changeling could ever command the celestial bodies as I do.”

He laughed, a little too hard. “That's good.”

“Assuming our wedding is not a disaster, then,” Luna said, talking over his laugh with a roll of her eyes, “what should it have? Should I provide cake? If so, what flavor, or flavors? What is the modern protocol for inviting guests? Be there any styles of fashion that I must needs avoid?”

“Oh my, you haven't been reading those atrocious bridal books, have you?” Blueblood scrunched up his muzzle.

“There are books upon this subject?” Luna asked. “I shall inquire with Twilight Sparkle when next I see her, then. She will know what I should do, or she will know of books that will elucidate the matter for me.”

An odd twinge struck the strings of her heart when she mentioned Twilight. Where is she now? she wondered, a hint of guilt in the back of her mind for sending her and her friends on that fool's errand to find Zecora.

“Honestly, though,” Blueblood said. “Why even bother? You do everything else your own way. Why not do your wedding your own way too?”

“I have not been married for one-hundred and twenty-two years.” Luna's eyes fell downward, and her voice became small and quiet. “Or rather, that length, plus another thousand more, I should say. Is it wrong of me to want the day to be... perfect?”

“No, I suppose not.” Blueblood shifted his body, like he was trying to find a less-dirty patch of earth to lie on.

“I was hoping for thy input, as well.” Luna lifted her head up, smiled, and tentatively reached out to touch one of his hooves. “This is not an ideal situation for either of us, I know, but I believe we should attempt to make the most of it.”

He stared down at her hoof and, after hesitating for a couple seconds, put one of his on top of hers. “Okay,” he said, forming his mouth into a smile that did not seem completely forced to Luna.

“Excellent!” She laughed lightly, with Blueblood joining in a second too late. “Anyway, what wouldst thou like to know about me?”

“Hmm. Give me a minute to think.” He drew one of his yellow locks into his mouth and chewed on it as he thought. Luna's heart fluttered a little bit at the cute image. Less than thirty seconds later, he said, “I can't think of anything at the moment.”

“What?” Luna's eyes flashed and she put her other forehoof on top of his, creating a tight stack of three hooves. “I have lived through ages. I have seen empires rise and fall. I have built wonders and conversed with legends. I helped to found this very nation! And there is nothing, not one thing, that thou canst think to ask me?”

“That's the problem!” Blueblood protested, attempting to squirm away. “There's just too much to ask. I don't know where to begin.”

Luna kept her eyes narrowed, but let go of his leg.

“Why don't you ask me something?” he suggested.

Luna's mouth worked silently for a few moments. Somehow, she had not planned for that eventuality. She had assumed that conversation would flow naturally from him asking about her epic, storied life.

“Why do I have to?” she said. “I asked first.”

“You certainly don't have to,” he said quickly. “It was just a thought.”

“Thoughts are good. We should reflect together in silence, I think.”

They spent the rest of the ten minutes that Luna had allotted for them to speak in dead silence. She listened to the sounds of her soldiers marching, eating, and talking, with a genuine happiness in her heart. She wished that she had been able to bridge the gap between herself and her groom, but maybe tomorrow evening would be better.

Sighing, she lifted her head and watched him for a moment. “Our time is at an end for tonight. I shall see thee tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Blueblood replied, pretending to intently study a dandelion that was blooming in the tent.

Luna called for her guards to take him back. She did not waste a moment in idleness, lest a greater darkness than a sad, uncomfortable conversation descend on her again. Instead, she picked herself up and walked straight to the largest tent in the camp, where she would be conducting her first meeting with her new council of war. It was hard not to look back and watch him go, but she managed to keep her neck stiff and straight ahead.

Three ponies besides Luna sat in the grass inside of the tent, leaning over to look at the map that had been spread on the smooth tree trunk that served as the tent's table.

She had selected a provisional captain for each division of the army.

The earth pony “infantry” was commanded by Gumball, a common baker whose fuchsia-colored hair had been burned in many places from oven accidents. Without complaint, even with a measure of satisfaction, she also served as both the army's quartermaster, and its head cook. She relished each job with a silent serenity that impressed Luna.

The unicorn “artillery” was commanded by a young scion of House Heartstrings named Lyra. Luna would normally have been wary of selecting a pony whose uncle had recently been chosen to command the Royal Guard, but Luna discovered in the dream training that Lyra's family did not even know she was here. If anything, her presence here was a boon that would help to ensure the loyalty of the Heartstrings.

Finally, the pegasus “cavalry” was commanded by one of the rare draconic hybrid ponies named Basilea, who had, until recently, served as a charioteer for the Night Guard. She, like most of the strange dragon-spawned cousins of the pegasi that lived in the caves of Canterlot Mountain, was fiercely loyal to Luna. When they heard of the formation of Luna's expedition, they resigned their prestigious positions for places in the common ranks of the army.

After a thorough lecture on what their roles in the army would be—in short, to serve as her voice wherever she was not present, and to administer the logistics of her general orders—Luna went over the plan of attack.

“Our first target will be the city of Barkstone,” Luna said, pointing it out on the old, ragged map she had found of the area. “As the diamond dogs are not expecting our assault, taking it should be easy, provided we prepare appropriately...”

There was a stir of movement outside of the tent, and the flaps were drawn aside. There stood Gethsemane Heartstrings, frequent bane of Luna's existence, his rusty coat covered with the gold-and-white parade armor of the Royal Captain.

“Guards,” Luna said, glaring past the new Captain toward the two armored stallions posted at the entrance flap. “This pony is not a member of our war council. Why is he within this tent?”

The guards glanced at their superior, who began to speak for them.

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” he said. His head was bowed, but his eyes were wide open, and fixed on Luna's. They flickered to Lyra for an instant, showing a moment of surprise, but soon refocused themselves. “There is a grave matter that we must discuss, and it cannot wait any longer.”

“We decide what can and cannot wait,” Luna said icily. “Not thou.”

“I am sorry, but not this time,” said Gethsemane Heartstrings. “For the past few nights this camp has been filled with the screams of innocent ponies, and we have heard some talking about dark nightmares you have visited upon them. The Royal Guard demands an explanation.”

One of Luna's ears twitched, but otherwise her body remained perfectly still. “We can recall many nations,” she replied slowly, choosing her every word carefully, “in which it was, in former days, illegal to question royalty. A few still remain today, no doubt. While we respect the Royal Guard's decision to name thee as Shining Armor's replacement too much to dismiss thee, thy continued disrespect is forcing us to seriously consider adding Equestria to that ignoble list.” She suddenly pounded a hoof on the table, causing everyone but the stoic members of the guard to jump.

“But happily for thee, the tradition of the guard selecting its own officers is one which we are unlikely to change as yet. We require its support as the solid, experienced core of our army... for the moment.”

She did wonder briefly why the tradition existed at all. It had not been so before her banishment. Perhaps it was a way for Celestia to keep a check on herself, by increasing the guard's autonomy? Or perhaps it had been meant as a check on Luna, should she return...

“However,” she went on, “if this insolence continues, we shall learn to make due without you. Is that clear?”

Captain Heartstrings closed his eyes slowly and spoke in a weary, gravely tone. “The character of these recent events and those a thousand years ago was too similar to be ignored. It has always been our duty to protect the royal family, even if it must be from themselves.”

“Did Celestia always tolerate such questioning from her own guard?” Luna asked, scraping at the ground as if preparing to charge. Heartstrings looked ready to make some reply, but he held his tongue as she continued speaking. “Thou knowest nothing of 'events' from a thousand years ago. If thou did, then thou wouldst know that these training methods were instituted by both Celestia and myself, and the peerless soldiers that were produced as a result were instrumental in defeating all of our foes, from Discord's legions of chaos to King Sombra's ensorcelled crystal lancers. Our drills are tried and true. Yes, they cause pain and distress, but it is a tiny fraction compared to what our ponies would suffer without the benefit of our guidance. Art thou satisfied now, Captain?” Luna practically spat the title at him.

“I am satisfied if you are, Your Majesty,” Heartstrings said as he bowed low.

“We are relieved,” she said, not even bothering to hide her scorn. “See to it that the rest of the Royal Guard knows that as well.” She flicked a hoof toward the exit. “Now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He tilted his head again to her, then turned to Lyra. “And Lyra, your parents are worried sick about you. You really should tell them where you are.”

“Sure, uncle,” Lyra said, scratching her mane nervously. “I'll get right on it.”

He nodded stiffly, then left.

Luna cleared her throat. “Let us take this opportunity to note that each of your positions are tentative, pending actual engagement with the enemy. They are based on our current judgment of your character and abilities, and nothing more.” She looked pointedly at Lyra for a fraction of a second. “In this army, rank is based solely on merit, not social position, nor political connections.

“Now, where were we? Ah, yes, Barkstone. First, we shall need cloud material. A huge quantity of it...”

The council listened intently, with mounting wonder, as the Queen explained exactly how the war would begin...

It took less than a fortnight for Luna to finish the basic training, much less time than expected. This was good, because tension with the Royal Guard was worsening, and she was making little progress in her courtship of Blueblood. The latter problem was insignificant and petty in the grand scheme of things, but it was sometimes the little things that got to Luna the most. Battle would make for a fine distraction. There would be much more drilling on the week-long journey to diamond dog territory, but the soldiers were now at least disciplined enough to march.

Each Captain organized their forces into thick columns. Luna watched them from a nearby hilltop, the morning sun at her back, as thousands of ponies formed up to march. Squadrons of pegasi broke away and flew ahead to serve as advance scouts, while the remainder of them stayed on the ground to conserve their wingpower.

The soldiers finished preparations quickly, considering most of them had never even dreamed of being in an army before now. After only a couple months, Luna believed they would be able to meet her expectations. She did not berate them for it now, though. She simply observed and waited, savoring the vibrations that coursed through her body as her beloved trainees stepped off to war.

The city of Barkstone stood at the crossing of two major roads, going north-south and east-west. It had once been part of the Principality of Equestria, but Nightmare Moon's rebellion had seen it change owners many times as the war-weary ponies withdrew and consolidated farther from the frontiers. The city had gotten its name from the unique, brown-streaked rocks that had been used to build it, and the diamond dogs kept calling it that as a pun on “bark”, a mockery of the fact that ponies named so many things the same way.

It had become a large, multicultural hub for the unsavory. Minotaurs who rejected lives in Equestria, exiled or adventuring griffons, horses of all sizes and nationalities, even young, questing dragons all passed through, frequently to purchase the many wares the diamond dogs scrounged up from their vast network of underground settlements. Not the least of which were slaves, which could command a high price since slavery was illegal in the large, economically powerful nation of Equestria, and Celestia had demanded the same laws from all her allies. Barkstone, being the only above-ground settlement the diamond dogs controlled, served as a natural center for their lucrative trade in captives to and from the rest of the world.

It was a misty morning on the grassy plain surrounding the city when the Argent Army attacked. The first thing the inhabitants noticed was the roll of distant thunder. Then they noticed a gargantuan, pitch-black storm cloud coming in at unnatural speed from the east. The few scouts that came back alive told how the cloud was teeming with heavily-armed ponies above, below, and even inside. There was scattered laughter, and only half-hearted attempts to organize a defense... until the first lightning bolt streaked out of the sky and struck a tower, sending brown shards of stone flying in every direction and scorching the lone sentry within.

The alarm went up. Nearly everyone tried to flee at first, but most of the exit tunnels had been collapsed in a series of equally unnatural earthquakes, and whenever a group moved toward any gate but the eastern one, that gate would be pounded with a barrage of lightning, as well as by multicolored blasts of purely magical energy. No single leader arose to tell them to do so, but the diamond dogs grabbed whatever sharp implements they could get their paws on and rushed out of the only gate the ponies were not attacking. Some bodyguards and miscreants of other races joined them, but there were still thousands of diamond dogs in the city, and their home was under attack, so they formed the bulk of the hastily assembled militia. Over a thousand rushed out to meet the attackers, with thousands more waiting in the ruins, hoping they would be overlooked in the bombardment, so they could strike back if they had to.

Outside of the gate, less than a hundred yards away, a two-hundred-strong phalanx of sturdy, spear-strapped earth ponies had stealthily assembled under cover of the storm cloud. At the head of the formation stood the largest pony most of the defenders had ever seen: a tall, lanky mare with her firm, taut muscles hidden almost completely under a full array of glowing silver armor. She wore a tattered cloak that flapped violently in the increasingly fast wind, and the motion created a rainbow of light in its thread, as if it were encrusted with tiny diamonds. The mare's ethereal mane and tail also created a similar effect, though they were blowing more calmly and in a different direction, like they were caught in a completely alien wind that no one else could feel. Her coat was such a dark shade of purple, and the light of morning so scarce now, that she appeared to be black.

A simple metallic band was wrapped around her helmeted head. With the long, spiraled horn that glowed faintly jutting out of the helmet, and the dark-feathered wings that stretched straight up from her sides, it soon became obvious to even the slowest among them that her metal band was a crown, and that they were facing something they were not the slightest bit prepared for. Still, there were many more of them, and ponies were meek and cowardly at heart.

Luna, eyes burning bright from under the shadow of her helm, sent a small flare up with her horn, signaling the heralds to sound the charge. Trumpets blasted, the lightning and unicorn spell strikes ceased, and the infantry ran across the field, with the pegasus cavalry flying out from their positions inside the cloud to join them from above. With quick aerial dives, the pegasi pinned the enemy down long enough for the other three earthy pony phalanxes hidden in the shadow of the cloud to advance and surround the haphazard army. Though the thunderhead moved forward with them, engulfing the entire town in darkness, no rain poured down, enhancing the eeriness of the phenomenon.

Although these tactics' effect on the morale of the diamond dogs was devastating, the militia's actual casualties were relatively low. The unicorns were unused to actually casting attack spells, despite the Queen's constant, day-and-night firing drills with them, and in the face of truly inflicting harm on others outside of dreams, many of them had not felt compelled to correct their aim. The spear-wielding pegasi had been pulling up from their dives too soon, causing glancing blows that should have been skewering kills, and complete misses that should have been hits.

Most of the earth ponies at Luna's side were advancing only because she was with them, and because their herd mentality nudged them on. Their kicks with their sharp, steel-cleated shoes were sluggish and lacking confidence. Instead of thrusting the spears strapped to their barrels through the bodies of the dogs, they allowed the enemy to merely be driven back by the threat of being skewered. The thick layers of chain metal barding each soldier was draped with were effective against the claws and farming implements wielded by the diamond dogs, but several of the ponies were still wounded or killed.

Now that the infantry had made close contact, the unicorn artillery began to fulfill their secondary function: levitating out and healing the wounded. Auras of every color and strength mingled to lift the blood-dripping bodies away quickly, although not quickly enough to prevent their comrades from getting a good look at the holes and tears that had been inflicted upon them.

Fear gripped the entire line with each casualty, but Luna continued to move forward. More slowly than she would have liked, than her body yearned to go, but still forward.

“Stay steady!” she urged them at full volume, a blast of speech that shocked the enemy and even surprised some in the pony army. “The slaves within are counting on you to restore their freedom. Fight!”

At the forceful insistence of a single ancient pony who could control the entire sky, whose voice boomed like thunder across the entire battlefield, the army had little choice but to fight onward.

As the ponies pushed themselves to follow their Queen's commands, Luna was facing a struggle of her own. With soldiers being wounded, sometimes killed, all around her, she was becoming acutely aware of the powerful oath spell that bound her not to kill any ponies. One misplaced strike, and the curse would kill her. Not only did she have to hold herself back so she would not break the formation and undermine the discipline of the line, but she also had to hold back lest a spell or kick run out of control and cause collateral damage. As a result, stomping on the dogs' bodies, blasting them with elemental magic, and fending off their counterattacks was not as satisfying as it could have been.

In a way, Luna was glad for that, because not getting lost in the rage of battle gave her enough clarity of mind to recognize when the enemy was defeated. With their backs pressed against the crumbling city walls, pegasi circling overhead like vultures, waiting for one of them to break ranks, and their escape routes collapsed by magic, the diamond dog garrison threw down its weapons and cowered on the ground.

“Halt!” Luna bellowed, stopping her assault and raising one leg straight up as a signal to the army. They stopped attacking immediately, although she was unsure whether to attribute the swiftness of their obedience purely to discipline. “Divisions two through five, secure the perimeter. Division six, bind those who have surrendered and gather them at the eastern gate. Squadrons one and five of division one, form with the Queen.” Something felt right about once again using the Royal Canterlot Voice to command a military force.

As the majority of the army spread out to maintain hold of the city, twelve earth ponies, from squadrons near her which had only sustained minor wounds, formed up in a line at her sides. Luna began walking through the central roadway of Barkstone, leaving a bright red trail on the rough-hewed stone.

Most of the citizens were diamond dogs, but there were a scattering of other races watching from the windows, especially from the many inns. The streets that she and her entourage passed were all empty, and many of those windows were packed with fearful faces. Though she was still watchful for signs of ambush, Luna was very confident that seeing the city's defenders completely routed in less than ten minutes would make any would-be freedom fighters think twice.

Then she turned the corner around a huge, gaudy, gem-encrusted inn, and her eyes fell on the town's slave market.

Cowering in crowded, stinking metal pens all around the mosaic plaza were the usual victims of diamond dog raids: cows, donkeys, deer, and, of course, ponies. Some still had a spark of life left in their eyes, but most of them had long since resigned themselves to wearing the thick iron chains that bound their limbs together. The chains were modular too, so they could be attached to other slaves, or to ropes, or to the holding pens, as they were now. A marvel of ingenuity.

Luna tried her hardest to turn her scowl to a look of stern compassion, like she had seen Celestia use so often, then stepped forward and prepared to speak. The words died in her throat when she saw one particular mare.

Black coat, brown mane, brown eyes, a painter's brush for a cutie mark. She was physically unremarkable, save for one detail: her belly was swollen. Luna noticed the distinctive odor of afterbirth in the mare's cell before she saw it. She could not have given birth more than a few days ago, probably less. Luna followed the mare's sunken, hollow eyes across the street to a different holding cell, where a tiny black-haired foal, his body still not completely dry, had already had chains clamped to all four of his small legs. Leading out from those chains was another set of links attaching him to an emaciated deer. He was bound so tightly and awkwardly that his already-weak limbs would not allow him to stand.

Luna turned to the soldiers at her side, who were still taking in the entire scene with their jaws hanging open.

“Gather up the slave merchants in this town,” she said to them. “Find any of your comrades who are not busy and enlist their aid. Go through every single building until you find all of them, then bring them here.”

The ponies hurried away, shouting Luna's orders to other squadrons.

As she waited for them to return, Luna set about dismantling the pens. “Dismantling” in this case meant bending and tearing the bars apart using only her hooves. Those inside stepped out cautiously through the openings, very few daring to look at her face. Luna herself was somewhat glad she could not see it at the moment.

She started with the cell the foal was in, and soon after made her way to where his mother was imprisoned. The mother's eyes stared up at Luna vacantly before sliding back down to her child, who was struggling to exit the cage with the deer next to him.

As the last of the cages was destroyed, Luna saw that some diamond dogs, wearing fine clothing and jewelry, had started to trickle into the square, herded there by pony soldiers. She ignored them and set about her next task: the breaking of the chains. She tried to speak to the captives, to reassure them before she did so, but her tongue would not yet obey her. Instead, she pulled each set of chains flat on the ground, lining them up carefully...

Thankfully, most of the slaves were too drained or exhausted to resist or even react as she reared back, pumped her forelegs in a wheel, then brought them down on the links with a terrific slam that sent chunks of metal and pavement alike flying through the air. Two stamps for each prisoner and then they could walk freely once again. A third, if they were attached to someone or something else. It was intense work, as the market was packed with nearly a hundred imprisoned souls, but she was filled with vigor and determination to see it done.

Luna did not want to do the newborn pony either first or last. She wanted to give him and his mother long enough to recognize what she was doing, to try to lessen their fear, but she also wanted to reunite them as soon as possible. She went to him after freeing about ten others. As she stepped toward the foal, he began to wail. Aside from the distant shouts of Luna's soldiers rounding up the merchants, his shrieking cries were the only sound that could be heard in the city.

The crying got even louder as she pounded his chains with her boots, splitting them apart instantly. She turned briefly toward the deer whom the child had been bound to, and saw that she was crying as well, though in complete silence. She nodded to Luna, then looked away, shuffling off to another group after Luna broke her bonds too.

Very carefully, Luna reached down toward the screaming infant. His crying intensified, but she scooped him up nonetheless. She held him to her neck and began to hum a deep melody that did little to quiet him, nor the emotions raging inside her. She walked carefully toward the mare with the paint brush cutie mark and, still without a word, laid the child at her feet.

The mother's eyes were wide, uncomprehending. Instinctively, her hooves were reaching out to hold and stroke her son. The motion pulled at the chains on her hindlegs, causing her to tumble over with a loud smack. She barely seemed to notice her fall. In fact, she appeared grateful for it, as it allowed her to crawl her way over to her baby and finally touch him again.

The baby, however, did notice her fall... and was giggling at it. All the tears that were flowing from him before were transferred to his mother like a kind of magic, and she sobbed and wailed as she pulled the laughing child to her.

Meanwhile, Luna took advantage of the mare's position to smash the metal keeping her limbs locked awkwardly together. She did not notice that she could now squeeze her son even tighter, but Luna did not expect her to.

“Ma'am,” a soldier said. “These are all the slave merchants we could find, based on documentation and testimony.”

Luna turned and saw that fourteen diamond dogs had been forced into a row by the rough press of her soldiers.

“Well done,” she remarked to the earth pony squadron commander who had spoken. Then, she fixed her gaze on the dogs. “Which of you is responsible for this?” She gestured toward the mother and son, who were both still nearly oblivious to the outside world.

They did not respond quickly enough for her liking, only mumbling and shuffling their paws. Luna stalked forward in a rush of motion that sent the dogs scrambling to get away, though they were pushed back into place by the ponies standing behind them.

“Who thought themselves the master of these two ponies?” she shouted, the sound threatening to burst their ear drums. “Who dared to claim ownership of them?”

This time, the diamond dogs pointed... each at a different one of the fourteen. A couple even changed their minds and started pointing at another merchant midway through.

“Absolutely disgusting,” said Luna, her lip curling up. “Not a shred of honesty nor integrity among you. We should have expected no less, of course. Have ye no hearts at all?”

She seemed to be waiting for a response, rather than asking a rhetorical question. Most of the fourteen said nothing. A few said “yes”, and one said “no... I mean yes.”

“There appears to be some uncertainty in the matter.” Luna's voice was cold, distant, and dangerous. “How can we know, unless we look?”

“It has been a thousand years since I have seen you like this," said the place where Nightmare Moon had been, using Celestia's voice. Luna snarled at the oh-so-wise condescension of the Elements of Harmony and tore a spear out of the grasp of the nearest soldier. In the blink of an eye, she stabbed it into the chest of a diamond dog, its gore-tipped point jutting out of his back. The other thirteen shouted and tried to run, but her horn glowed with tendrils of white-hot magic that lashed out and grabbed their paws. They tripped and fell as the aura drew them inexorably toward her. Luna struck with the spear again and again, their external screams mingling with her internal screams of rage, hate, and guilt.

Only one sound overcame the cacophany that flooded her senses, and that sound was the only thing that kept her salivating jaws from clamping down and eating the flesh of these vile creatures. A foal's cry. The sheer terror and distress of the infant snapped her back to reality, to the fact that she had just killed fourteen surrendered beings who may not have been directly responsible, and to the fact that her army was watching her every action.

She turned to her troops, expecting horror and revulsion. What she got was steady, disciplined stares. If they were disturbed by the scene, they were hiding it expertly. Her stomach nearly turned. That was exactly how she had moulded them to be...

Suddenly, Ensign Brandywine Breeze stepped out of the crowd. She stared into Luna's eyes, and Luna saw that, for this soldier at least, horror was not being hidden. It simply was not there to begin with. Brandywine began to stamp her hooves on the street, at first a little timidly, but picking up strength and volume as Luna watched. The Queen willed her jaw not to drop.

The mare was applauding the grisly scene, using hooves that, little over a month ago, had been used mainly to cradle her newborn sister. She was soon joined by many others, including the Captains Gumball and Basilea. Most of the army was still occupied with the duties they had been given, but the several dozen ponies nearby who had no specific tasks generated a lot of noise. The earth under the entire city shook, and the inhabitants holed up in its buildings drew as far away from the windows as they could.

“Search the city for any other slaves,” she forced herself to say, silencing the applause. “Take them, along with the freed ones here, to the eastern gate. Give them food and water, but not too much at once, lest they become ill.”

Luna looked down at the slaughtered bodies of the slave merchants and tried to ignore the slight trembling in her knees. What she had done to the dogs did not hurt nearly as much as what she had done to the her own army, that they would so whole-heartedly approve of what she did. The fact that over a hundred captives were now free helped. Without her, they would have lived out the rest of their lives in mindless servitude, fear, and pain. But it did not help as much as she would have hoped.

“And leave these corpses here to rot,” she pronounced. “Let the inhabitants of this accursed town see and smell what their evil hath wrought.” And me, she finished. Let me see and smell the evil that I have wrought as well.

Luna desperately wanted to flee, if only for a few minutes. She looked up to the thundercloud the army had brought along. Its size and darkness had diminished significantly after all the lightning strikes they had kicked out of it, each one draining the magic that held the cumulonimbus together, but it was still dark and secluded enough to make a fitting place to brood. Her wings started to twitch slightly, but she forced them to stay folded. She could wallow in her rising anger and depression later. For now, there was a great deal more work to be done, funerals for the fallen to be held, and battles to be fought.

Author's Notes:

This is part one of three, this time. The other two parts are not complete, but a lot has been written for them, and I think this part reaches a good cut-off point until I can finish the whole bit. Thank you all for your patience!

I want to give special thanks to Stryke for helping overcome my doubt and writer's block about this chapter. Without him, it might have taken me even longer.