Nearly eight thousand pony warriors gathered outside of the collapsed walls of Barkstone. Some were on guard duty, some were watching over the freed slaves, and others were tending to the two dozen wounded that remained unhealed, but even those who were preoccupied were listening to Queen Luna's words, projected over the plain like a steady summer wind.

“Tonight, we honor the fifty-three ponies who gave their lives in service to our noble cause.”

Luna had taken down a thick tree trunk and used it to construct a pillar, standing at about her height if she stood on her hindlegs, at the epicenter of the fifty-three graves that had been solemnly dug in the field by her and many earth ponies. She enchanted the tip, and with a surge of her will, it lit up with silver light, a magical, long-lasting torch shining brighter than the moon.

“Take ye a branch from the trees of the earth, light it upon the mystic fire of this torch, and hold it aloft toward the sky. Thus shall we honor the valiant dead.” With her magic, Luna lifted a stick from the ground, touched it to the flame, and passed both the fire and the permanency enchantment along to it. Then she floated it over to the pony nearest to her, one of many who had begun to wander in and form a series of ad-hoc queues around the graves. He took it very carefully in his teeth, although the fire gave off no more heat than standing in a patch of sunlight during the spring. Luna favored the earth pony Engineer with a small smile as he took a place standing beside her.

“Our royal person shall stand here in vigil for the departed until we raise the sun, six hours hence.” She said, already taking the branch from the next pony. “Those of you who have not been assigned specific duties by your commanders are welcome to join us for some or all of that period, provided you will be rested enough to march, come the morn.”

“Captain Heartstrings,” Ensign Brandywine Breeze whispered from the middle of the growing crowd. “Could you translate what she's saying for me, ma'am?”

“You can call me Lyra,” she said, nudging Brandywine in the ribs. “We've been through that much together. And yes, at ease, you have my permission to speak frankly for this conversation, and all that jazz.” Lyra waved her hoof around dismissively.

“Luna said that this whole 'captain' thing is probably temporary, besides,” Lyra went on. “I'll most likely be a grunt like you again before long, especially if my uncle keeps pissing off the Queen.” Lyra sighed and watched as droves of ponies stepped forward, pieces of wood held carefully in their wings, telekinetic auras, forehooves, and even mouths, to have them lit with the cool fire. “Anyway, I'm pretty sure she's saying that if you want to mourn the dead, you can take a twig or something, light it on the big magic torch she's got there, and hold it up for as long as you feel you need to. Just as long as you make sure you have enough energy in the morning, since we're moving out at sunrise.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you, ma'am.” The Ensign saluted.

Lyra saluted back after another sigh. “You enjoy making me have to do that, don't you?”

“No, ma'am,” said Brandywine, smiling but keeping her tone serious. “At least not entirely. I... I think it's important to show respect for your superiors. After everything that's happened the past few weeks, it's... comforting.”

Lyra made a noncommittal grunt, caught off-guard by Brandywine's frankness. After chewing her lip for several seconds, she moved closer to the other mare and said quietly, so the crowd around them wouldn't be able to hear, “About that... I heard you led the applause when the Queen executed the slave merchants.”

“Yes, ma'am.” The soldier's chest puffed up slightly.

“Doesn't it seem wrong to you?” Lyra asked. “To just kill them without a trial or anything?”

“Why should it? We didn't give the diamond dogs trials during the battle.”

“Yes, but they were armed. Fighting us. These were unarmed civilians who had surrendered.”

“I'd guess the same would apply to everypony they enslaved during their careers, too,” said Brandywine. She stared into the huge white fire ahead, the ambient light growing brighter around it as more and more ponies added their own pieces to the flame. Despite its brightness, it did not hurt her eyes at all to look.

“I'm not good at this argument thing,” Lyra replied, her gaze wandering around the ground. “It just bothers me.”

“You should talk to Queen Luna, then, Lyra. Maybe she can explain it better than me.”

“I... Maybe.” Lyra rubbed her forehead for a moment. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, and when she opened them again, she was grinning over at Brandywine. “I'm going to get something to eat. See you around, soldier!”

Lyra turned away and left before even acknowledging Brandywine's salute, and another pony moved forward to take her place.

Ahead, Luna turned to the next pony in the line, and her eyes widened to see the young mother she had freed from the slave market, with her foal hiding beneath her legs. She went to one knee before her ruler, who quickly ushered her back up.

“You should both be resting,” Luna said sternly.

“I can't sleep,” she replied, a small crack sneaking into her voice. “And neither can my child. And I—I feel like I owe it to these ponies.”

“Thou owest us nothing. We have done our duty, and naught more. But if it ameliorates thy burdens to join us, then we bid thee welcome.” Luna's gaze was bordering on soft, which seemed to be the only thing keeping the child from crying at the sight of her. “However, if either thou or thy child seem to be in any pain, we shall insist upon sending you back to the healers at once.”

“I understand. Thank you.” She bent down to take the stick she had brought back in her teeth.

“May we...” Luna started. Her mouth closed and her eyes shifted away for a moment.

The mare paused, neck halfway to the ground. “What?”

“May we ask your names?” Luna said, so softly that the mother had to strain her ears to hear.

“Huh? You don't have to ask permission for that, Your Highness.” She cleared her throat and flashed an awkward, toothy smile. “I'm Scarlet, and my child doesn't have a name yet. I... I couldn't...” The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Luna's face drew close enough that her mane filled all of Scarlet's vision, like a second night sky swirling right in front of her eyes. She was mesmerized, and so was the nameless foal.

“I understand,” said the face within the sky. “Wilt thou do me the honor of allowing me to name him?”

“I don't want to argue, but wouldn't the honor be ours, Princess?” Scarlet's eyes trailed away as she followed one particular point of light in Luna's mane, traveling all the way down from her scalp to her smooth ends like a slowly falling star.

Luna smiled, and even felt little urge to correct the title. “Whomever the honor belongs to, is that a yes?”

“Of course!” The mother lowered her head so she could look at the little child underneath her. “Hey there, little one,” she cooed gently. “You can come on out. It's okay. Mom's here.”

The child stepped out a few paces, and then was gently nudged forward by his mother's muzzle. For a moment he looked ready to start shrieking again, but as Luna removed her helmet, crown and all, he calmed down. The foal sat perfectly still, staring up at Luna as she bent down to gently lift him in her forehooves. He fidgeted as their eyes met.

His eyes were a deep chestnut, giving a very dark aspect to him when combined with his charcoal coat. His fuzzy mane and tail, however, were a soft turquoise color, which, Luna imagined, would slightly lighten that impression as they lengthened with age.

“What is his father's name?” asked Luna as she surveyed the markedly different mane colors of Scarlet and her baby.

“Probably Thunderlane, judging from the mane,” she said.

“...'Probably?'” Luna's lip curled up slightly in confusion and discomfort.

“Yes, I'm lucky enough to have three special someponies in my life,” said Scarlet, followed by another quick grin, and another equally quick fade into a frown. Tears rimmed her eyes. “Oh, gosh! It has to have been about a year now. They must be so worried about me, if they don't think I'm dead...” Through her tears, she suddenly noticed Luna's uncomfortable reaction. “What's wrong, Princess? Was it something I said?”

The Queen sighed. From delving into the memories of her army, she knew that such multi-partner relationships had become somewhat common, especially among earth ponies. While experiencing the echoes of that love while performing dream drills with them was powerful, having lived through centuries of unquestioned prejudice was powerful too.

“Pardon my reaction, Miss Scarlet,” she said. “I have had some difficulty in adjusting to the... the mores of this era. It was impolite and uncouth for me to show that difficulty at a time such as this.” She looked back and forth between the mother and child. “In any case, you should both be at peace. We are sending a detachment to escort all of you home. You will be reunited soon.”

Reddened eyes crying yet more tears, Scarlet remained silent as Luna focused her attention back on her son.

“Tzimistos,” Luna pronounced. “The wild, righteous lightning which the tribal pegasi believed was sent by their gods to smite the wicked. That would be a fitting name.”

“It certainly is... unique!” Scarlet said, her forced grin becoming a genuine smile as her foal floated in a cloud of Luna's blue energy, giggling the whole way, back onto the ground at her feet. The two of them nuzzled and laughed.

Luna was so distracted by the sight that she almost forgot all about the herd of ponies around her, waiting to be granted torches for the vigil. She hurriedly lit the one lying next to Scarlet and planted it carefully in the ground next to them, so as not to disturb the tender moment. She heard a muffled, sobbing “Thank you” as she turned to light the next torch, and felt ready to weep tears of joy herself. This was not the time nor the place, however, so she pushed it aside, for now.

The number of torch-bearers continued to grow.

The next morning, the silver fire was extinguished as dawn broke over the city. Luna summoned Captain Basilea, and commanded her and five hundred of the pegasus cavalry to escort the freed slaves back to Equestria. She saw many tearful expressions of gratitude from the slaves who had not been completely broken, but the one that stuck out the most was Scarlet turning around to wave goodbye several times as they set off down the road. Little Tzimistos waved too, but only when his mother told him too. He did not even seem to know what he was waving at, but he was smiling. That was enough.

Then, after leaving another detachment of five hundred to garrison the city of Barkstone, the army pulled back the rubble from the collapsed tunnels around the town.

A unicorn was assigned to each squadron that descended into the earth. Each unicorn had been taught a special illumination spell by Luna and others of more advanced magical ability—such as Lyra and, to her surprise, Gethsemane Heartstrings—that projected light to a point of the caster's choosing, rather than centering on their horn. With the paths lit by a splendid array of vivid colors playing over the gray caverns, the army marched deep under the ground.

The tunnels were huge and extensive, branching off into many different paths, and opening into vast chambers, some hundreds of feet high. They had long since been mined of anything valuable. There were some wooden shacks, canvas tents, and smaller stone hollows, but they had all been quickly abandoned as the army approached. Some had cooking fires still burning, roasting the meat of the creatures of darkness that inhabited the tunnels. After making sure no one was looking, Luna sneaked bites of them as she passed. She frowned when she discovered bats over the fires, as they were among her favorite animals... but meat was meat. They tasted just as good. Besides, her not needing to dip into the rations of hay and grass that they had brought along meant more for the army. There was precious little in the way of vegetation down here, after all. It was a noble thing she was doing, Luna told herself.

Except for a few animals who fled quickly when the glittering torch spells neared, the tunnels were also devoid of life. Luna guessed that the intelligent inhabitants had fled to the nearest diamond dog warren. The map she had with her had proven correct so far, and if the accuracy held, that warren would be an abandoned dragon's hoard that had been ancient and unoccupied even back when she had been banished to the moon. It was named simply Dragon's Hoard on the map, and that was what the citizens of Barkstone called it. It would take over three days of regular marching to reach it. This was good, as it allowed Luna to make camp—or rather, three interconnected camps, since not even the largest caverns were big enough to hold all the soldiers—and continue their training.

While they were awake, Luna taught her ponies to defend themselves in absolute darkness. Then they trained for every possible angle and time of attack in more dream training. They succeeded, or they died, sometimes multiple times. Loath as she was to admit it, Luna did have an easier time with each one. It was no different than when she had prepared ponies to face Discord. Indeed, her descent into evil and possession did not truly begin until an army was no longer needed, and she began facing threats alone. She hoped that this army would not suffer as severe casualties as that one had, because the death of so many whom she had such an intimate connection with is part of what had spurred Luna to combat evil by herself instead. Luckily, what she had seen of the diamond dogs so far made that seem unlikely. Despite that, she began to mentally prepare herself for the agony of losing many, should it be necessary. It hurt and disgusted her to be imagining the true, final deaths of these brave, selfless warriors, but it was better than the alternative.

Delving into the psyches of her soldiers grew less and less tiring each time too, both for them and her. In fact, it began to become a source of comfort for Luna. Though each dream lasted only a few seconds, those few seconds were ones in which the greatest problems she faced were unkind parents, unfaithful lovers, or stressful days at work. While she roamed their minds, she did not have to worry about the fate of Equestria, the darkness that was slowly enveloping her spirit, or the guilt and betrayal that chipped away constantly at the walls around her heart.

It was also a surprise and a reassurance when their problems were similar to hers. Though it had not ended in imprisonment and temptation to evil for any of them, many of the soldiers had been betrayed by those they loved at some point in their lives. None of their siblings were powerful alicorn Princesses, but many did have spats and genuine conflicts with their family members. None of them had to manage affairs of state and disloyal subjects, but plenty had experience running a large household or an unruly family. Inside their memories, she learned more about life in modern Equestria, and about herself, than she had in two years walking the land, than since the last time she had trained an army, even.

A tense peace settled over Queen Luna, a kind of cease-fire between the bitter rivals that were the good and evil parts of her soul. She first realized how much it was affecting her when she found herself speaking easily with Blueblood during one nightly rendezvous.

“Thou wouldst look most fetching in a tuxedo of a pale blue pallor,” she said, sitting next to him on the cold stone floor inside her tent. They were so close that her flowing mane and tail would occasionally brush against him, a fact which both of them had noticed wordlessly. “A color that would at once call to mind a shade of silver and match thine eyes as well. What sayest thou?”

“I say I'd look good in any color,” said Blueblood, flipping a lock of hair out of his face. “So whatever you think is best.”

“Confidence is a most attractive trait,” Luna said with a wry smile, “provided that it can be backed up by deeds. I must confess that I have seen but little to warrant it as yet.”

“What?” He gaped. “Didn't you see me fighting those carbon dogs? I was like silk lightning.”

Luna laughed uproariously, and Blueblood continued to feign shock, though a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Silk lightning,” she said in between gasps. Then her eyes lit up and her laughter ceased. “Wait! That is an even better idea!”

“It is?”

“Oh, indeed!” Luna swept onto her feet in a smooth, elegant motion that sent a jolt through Blueblood's body. He shifted his sitting posture. “I wish that Miss Rarity were here so that she could capture my vision. Thou simply must wear silk, and it should be yellow, or white, perhaps both, in color. That can be matched perfectly with what I plan to wear.”

“'Rarity'? Why does that name sound familiar?” Blueblood remarked, chewing on a strand of his mane. He shook his head and shrugged. “No matter. That sounds lovely, Luna. What is it that you intend to wear?”

She turned back to look at him—noting with a small degree of satisfaction that his eyes flicked up from her rear as she turned—and paused for a moment. That was the first time he had called her 'Luna.' She was unsure why that felt so significant, but it did.

“I shall have to tell thee on the morrow,” she said with a soft sigh. She had hundreds more soldiers she needed to train today.

“You're just trying to keep me in suspense, aren't you?” he said, adding an overwrought sigh of his own.

“It is possible.” Luna grinned, then stepped toward him. She craned her neck down to his sitting form and kissed his forehead lightly, right at the base of his horn. She could see goosebumps on his skin even through his thick coat. “Fare thee well, my sweet Prince-to-be.”

“Take care of yourself, Your Majesty,” Blueblood said, a slight quaver in his normally smooth voice.

The royal guards Luna summoned to take him away seemed even more tense than usual. Surely they do not plan to move against me while we are still down below the earth? She tried to keep from frowning until Blueblood and his escort were gone. Mayhap 'tis only the darkness wearing on them. I could be imagining it. Either way, I should transfer his guardianship to the army soon.

“Do you have a few minutes?” Lyra asked, scuffing at the rock under her hooves as she stood before the Captain of the Royal Guard. “It's important.”

Gethsemane was in the middle of a conversation with a gold-armored mare. They were standing before one of the huge silver bonfires that were cool to the touch, but radiated comfortable heat as far as their light reached, which the most magically inclined in the army helped set up each time they made camp. He looked over at his niece and flashed a small smile. “Of course I do, Lyra.” He nodded at the guard. “Excuse us for a moment,” he said to her. She then marched off, her face locked in a stiff, serious expression.

“Okay, uh...” Lyra had rehearsed this conversation many times, but the words failed to come nonetheless. She closed her eyes and stamped at the ground. “Um...”

“Lyra, what's bothering you?” In a sudden movement that caught Lyra completely by surprise, he moved forward and wrapped his neck around hers, hugging her close.

“The executions,” she whispered into his dark red mane, not returning the hug, but not backing away from it either. “The Queen is very important to me. I love and respect her, but that... that didn't feel right, uncle.”

He nodded. “So you have a difference of opinion with her, and you came to me for advice on how to handle it?”

“Maybe,” Lyra said. “Should I talk to her? It seems like a bad idea, since she always gets so mad at you whenever you disagree with her. But I'm not sure this is something I can bottle up either.”

“Ah, the Heartstrings curse,” said Gethsemane distantly. “Knowing our own hearts compels us to know the hearts of others as well, and drives us to expose all of that knowledge.”

“That gobbledygook again?” Lyra groaned. “Sorry, I don't know about all that. I'm just confused. Luna surrounds herself with ponies who disagree with her, but then she blows up at them when they contradict or challenge her. It doesn't make sense.”

“Lyra, the Queen is... sick,” he whispered, even more quietly than before. “She has the instinct to attract some advisors of talent and conviction who will not simply nod their heads and agree with whatever she says. Under normal circumstances, that is simply good politics that results in an efficient and effective administration. But... she is also insane, and part of that insanity is an addiction to melancholy, with a large side-helping of pride.”

“Insane?” Lyra pulled into the hug now, if only to make absolutely sure they wouldn't be heard. “Uncle, she's not crazy. She's just going through a lot.”

“That's true, and that's exactly why she needs ponies by her side with the courage to stand up to her.”

“So I should do it?”

He stepped back from the hug and looked deeply into her big golden eyes, which seemed to be already losing some of their figurative luster. He had no idea how many times she had watched her own death while undergoing Luna's training. “If you're completely prepared to tell an immortal alicorn monarch that she's wrong, sure,” he said flatly.

“Hey, you do it all the time,” Lyra said, forcing a laugh and patting him on the back. “It can't be that hard.”

“It is.”

“Uh...” She searched for some sign of a joke as he said that, but Gethsemane's expression had turned completely serious. He was going back into stoic, unflinching guard-mode. “Okay. Thank you for the advice, uncle.”

“Anything for my family, Lyra,” he said pointedly.

She held back several biting remarks about that motto and its relation to his sister, Lyra's mother, who had disowned her for refusing to marry a stallion and instead moving in with another mare. Honestly, who besides that old nag gives a rumpshake about the family line and the traditions of the nobility these days? She thought for a second. Actually, Luna probably does. Oh, this is going to go so well...

Lyra gulped, waved a farewell, and made her way to the Queen's campaign tent, pitched in the middle of an adjoining cavern. She was assaulted by wave after wave of sentries barking “Captain present!” and “All's well, ma'am!”—some of which were adorably mispronounced as “All swell”—but instead of being annoyed, Lyra found it reassuring. Sure, the rank was basically at Luna's whim and had only been tested once in battle, but it was some measure of authority she could bring to bear on the discussion.

The guards told her that Luna was at the training ground presently, though that was obvious enough from the screams and sobs that were echoing in the vast subterranean hall. Lyra decided to wait until she returned, chatting with the two stallions in the meantime. It was mostly a one-sided conversation, with the occasional grunt or monosyllable from them, but it cleared her mind and calmed her pounding heart.

The quick heartbeat returned, although not quite as fast, when, ten minutes later, the screams stopped, and Luna's fully-armored bulk appeared, trotting briskly directly at her. She reflexively stepped aside as Luna walked straight past her into the tent, with only a brief nod and a gruff “Captain” as a greeting.

“Ma'am?” Lyra called into the tent. “May I speak with you, please?”

“One moment, Captain,” Luna replied tersely. There was a sound of water splashing, the clipping of heavy metal boots on stone pacing back and forth, then a calmer beckoning from Luna. "Enter."

Lyra walked in to see Luna standing still, facing the wall of the tent, next to a basin of water. Her face, what was visible of it from under her bright silver helmet, was still dripping.

“What is it?” Luna asked, staring blankly at Lyra from the corner of her eyes.

“It's about what happened after the battle yesterday,” she said, forcing her knees to stay steady. “In the marketplace.”

“Please proceed to the point, Captain Heartstrings.” Luna turned away, dipping her hooves into the basin and using them to splash more water on her face. “I am quite weary.”

Lyra hesitated, but only for a few seconds. “I believe that killing those merchants was wrong. We should discuss what to do next time something like that happens, ma'am.”

“'Twas wrong, was it?” Luna turned around, stretching her wings out slowly, but keeping them flared as they reached full width. “Wherefore dost thou think so?”

“Because they were unarmed, and they had surrendered.” Lyra held her ground as Luna slowly advanced toward her. “I know they've caused a lot of misery, but I was always taught that everypony—everyone—deserves a second chance.”

“Is that so?” Luna's eyes searched hers from behind an inscrutable mask. “Even the worst, most irredeemable monsters?”

Lyra swallowed and nodded as she stared back. It was not so much that she wanted to challenge the Queen, as that she could not tear her eyes away from the intensity of her gaze. “Yes, I believe so. We should have given them a shot, at least. A trial or something.”

“Wouldst thou feel the same way,” said Luna, “if they had taken Miss Bon Bon and bound her in chains instead?”

Lyra thought about that scenario, feeling very cold as she did. “I, uh.” Lyra's stare wavered, and she looked away from Luna to study one of the walls intently instead. “I don't know for sure, but I'd like to think so.”

“'Tis something thou shouldst turn some thought toward,” Luna said, folding her wings back up and walking over to the other side of the tent. Her steps sounded with heavy thunks as she made her way across, although not as heavy as her massive suit of plate suggested. “This world is a dangerous place, and we must be prepared for all eventualities.”

“So, you think trials are a bad idea then?”

“They will slow us down,” said the Queen, “and speed is one of our most valuable tactical assets in this war.”

Lyra swallowed hard and licked her lips, trying to wet her completely dry mouth. “In that case,” she said, “I'm resigning. Quitting. Leaving. Uh, whatever the correct term is.”

Luna turned to regard her solemnly, her eyes flashing with something that was similar to, but not quite, anger. “Even if I am in agreement?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, what?” Lyra cocked her head sideways.

Luna sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping as her head lowered. “What I did was rash and impulsive, and not in keeping with the spirit of justice which I strive to serve.” Luna's stern voice became softer, less imperious, though still somewhat intimidating since it was coming from underneath a magical helmet. “I did not want to see a repeat of that event before this conversation, and now that desire has been doubled.

“I would be sorely grieved to see thee go, Captain Lyra. Thou art the only pony in the entire army who has expressed any disapproval with those executions to me. Such moral clarity and courage is more valuable than any tactical advantage.”

Lyra stood there in dumbfounded silence.

“Is that all thou wished to discuss?” Luna asked.

Lyra managed a nod.

“Excellent. I have much to attend to this evening. Rest assured, however, that I shall reflect on a nobler course of action for us to pursue next time. I shall not simply kill them. Good evening, Captain.” Luna nodded toward the exit.

Lyra saluted, Luna saluted back, and the unicorn left the tent in a slow, heavy walk, as if she were dazed and would lose her footing if she moved any faster. Once she was a sufficient distance away, Lyra reared back, performing wheels with her forelegs, and let out a victorious yelp, drawing confused looks from the soldiers nearby. She coughed and plastered her best innocent grin on her face.

“Carry on,” she told them with a forced laugh.

The Argent Army marched for another solar day, though only Luna knew that. All the army knew was that their entire bodies ached, though less so with each march. Her magical sense of time allowed her to keep the soldiers on a tight, regular schedule, a detail that helped maintain discipline as the darkness deepened, and the landscape began to change. Instead of gray stone, the caverns gave way to tunnels of shining, smooth obsidian, with shards of it jutting out like teeth at irregular intervals. The obsidian absorbed much of the light cast by the unicorns' spells, turning even the brightest pink and red auras into pale, muted caricatures that danced ominously against the sharp, jagged outcroppings of the black stone. Luna explained that this was a passive effect resulting from ancient exposure to dragon's breath, but the ponies grew tense and guarded.

More so when there had been still no sign of diamond dog activity as they set up camp for the night. Luna kept to the same schedule she had been, though she had to occasionally remind some ponies what they were supposed to be doing. They were getting distracted by phantom noises and sights. She imagined that, without their training, they would all be well and truly spooked by this point.

Tonight was one night that she wished she did not have perfect reckoning of time. Time had dragged all day in anticipation of the night, which would be the last one before the next battle, and also her next meeting with Blueblood. But now that she had set the sun, time did not move much faster.

The night was not without its highlights, of course. She relished putting the brigades through the usual physical exercises. Running, doing push-ups and wing-ups, climbing, and stretching were always sources of joy for her. She enjoyed her discussion of strategy with her two remaining army Captains. She had developed a profound new respect for Lyra, and Gumball, the infantry captain, had made a special dessert for the meeting: chocolate cupcakes. They were not as good as a fat, juicy woodland creature would have been, but they were tasty nonetheless. She would not go so far as to call everything else she had to do boring by any means, especially the dream training, but she was restless and excited.

The time finally came. She opened the flap of her tent and saw him there, waiting silently. It was difficult to stay on her guard when he smiled at her, but she tried. She set aside her helmet and went to him, surprising both of them as she entwined her neck with his. Luna hugged Blueblood for a few awkward seconds, then took a few steps back.

“I trust thou art well?” she asked.

“Actually, no.” The smile drained from his face, and from hers in turn. “There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about.”

No one ever says that when it is to be a good talk, Luna said to herself. Outwardly, she regarded him with concern and nodded, urging him to elaborate.

“I feel useless,” he said, staring down at his hooves. “I hate being cooped up like a pet while other ponies are out there fighting and dying. When the next battle comes, please let me fight.”

Luna eyed him suspiciously. From his tone and steady, level body language, he seemed to be earnest. It would also be foolish for him to try to escape with diamond dogs and other beasts no doubt prowling the tunnels. She liked him a great deal too. Even more now, after seeing more evidence that there was a warrior's heart under the soft exterior. But she still had enough presence of mind not to extend that goodwill to genuine trust. She shook her head.

“I cannot risk losing thee, my Prince-to-be,” she told him, brushing a hoof tenderly against his cheek. “I know this must be frustrating, but for reasons both personal and political, I cannot allow that. I am sorry.”

He shrugged, although in an exaggerated way that gave Luna the impression that the rejection affected him more deeply than that. “It was worth a shot,” he said. “So, tell me about this dress of yours.” The smile returned, though Luna noted that his eyes were not entirely part of the expression.

She was about to tell him when the sound of quick hoofsteps approached the tent. The face of an earth pony sentry burst through the tent flaps. He would have entered completely, if not stopped by the pair of royal guards outside.

“Pardon the intrusion, Your Majesty,” he said in between panting breaths. “The advance scouts have encountered a small party of diamond dogs, carrying a white flag. They say they want to talk terms.”

“Ha!” Luna retrieved her helmet, scoffing as she buckled it back on with her telekineses. “It appears as though thou shalt not have to fight anyway, Blueblood. What wretched cowards!”

She commanded the sentry to lead the way, pausing at the entry to tell Blueblood that they would continue their conversation when she returned. She enlisted a squadron of beefy earth pony infantry to accompany her, more for the message than out of genuine need for protection, then set out. The camp was buzzing with the news, rumors flying back and forth at the edge of her hearing. Luna did her best to tune them out.

The party did not have to travel far before reaching a crossroads in the obsidian tunnels. In the middle of it stood five diamond dogs, all wearing white togas and each carrying large sacks at their sides. The tallest among them held a long pole in one paw, to which a tattered white cloth had been attached. He inclined his head as Luna approached.

“Who art thou?” she said, somewhat undiplomatically.

“I am Ludwig of Dragon's Hoard,” he said in the least-broken Equine Luna had ever heard from a diamond dog. He sounded almost like a native speaker. “I come as an ambassador from my people to yours, in the hope that we can come to an understanding.”

“You are to give up the buying and selling of sapient beings, then?” Luna said, with narrow eyes and a clenched jaw.

“Not precisely,” Ludwig replied. “But you could buy the freedom of many with this offering we have brought you.” He motioned to three of his companions, who dumped out the contents of their sacks. Bars and coins of silver and gold poured out of the cloth, littering the floor with precious metal.

“You have sorely misjudged us,” Luna said coldly as she kicked the money away from her feet, “if you think we can be bought off like common mercenaries. We are ponies. It seems the world hath forgotten what that means.”

Ludwig sighed. “You might want to accept the offer. This crop of slaves is rapidly becoming a lot of trouble, what with a vengeful army of magic ponies descending to free them.” He folded his paws behind his robe and nodded at his fourth companion, who upended his sack, which was darkly stained. There was a wet cracking sound against the floor. “If they are not bought up soon, we are going to be forced to chalk them up as losses.”

Luna looked down and saw the severed head of a pony, a handsome young stallion whose coat had been a light, shining blue color before becoming stained with blood. His eyes were still wide with pain and horror. From the look of the cuts on the neck, the decapitation had been neither quick nor clean.

“I would hate to see that happen to all of our current stock,” the diplomat said airily, “but unless this rampaging pony army goes away, it will most likely come to that.”

“Take your vile, tainted money and leave our sight at once.” The temperature of the cold cave dropped even further as Luna spoke, judging from the shivers coming from both parties. “If you do not, we shall destroy you, flag of truce or no.”

“I do hope that is an agreement,” said Ludwig in a practiced, yet tense, tone of neutrality. “We'll be watching for a few days. If you're not gone by then, they may all end up in this sad state.”

As the diamond dog delegation hurriedly gathered up the money and began backing away in the opposite direction, Luna removed her moonsilver cloak with purple patches in the tears, courtesy of Rarity. Her gaze was locked on them the entire time as her horn lit up. They flinched at the mere sight of her casting a spell, though it was only levitation. Her magic carefully wrapped the severed head in the cloak and tied it shut. Luna slung the sack over her back and, after one last smoldering glare at the diamond dogs, she turned around to rejoin the army.

Neither she nor the six ponies flanking her spoke a single word on the way back. But the tension and anger in the air were palpable. It was centered around Luna, but much of it was coming from them as well. The earth ponies did their best to remain stoic, but Luna did not expect complete success after an event like that, so she gave them some leeway. As soon as they returned to camp, Luna ordered the squadron to begin packing their gear. They gaped in shock and impotent fury, but they did as they were told. Then, in her full royal voice, said, “Captains Gumball and Heartstrings, to the campaign tent at once!”

She did not need to clarify that she meant Lyra, because that was the only Captain Heartstrings to show up at the huge white tent in the central cavern. Gumball offered both of them some vegetable soup, which Luna turned away, but which Lyra consumed with gusto.

“Captain Gumball,” Luna said, her voice distant and quiet, “Thou art to begin preparations to abandon camp and to prepare the soldiers for forced double marches. They must be ready to move quickly and at a moment's notice.”

Both Captains eyed the wrapped-up cape that Luna had dropped off in the corner when she entered. “What happened, ma'am?” Gumball asked with genuine worry.

“I do not have time to explain. Go and execute my order.” Luna's voice was set to a slow boil, though the cold fury did not seem to be directed at either of them. The infantry captain saluted quickly and dashed out of the tent.

“What about me?” Lyra asked, unconsciously shying away as Luna's intense eyes sought hers again.

“I have a special assignment for thee,” Luna said. “Thou attended Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns alongside Twilight Sparkle. Is this not so?”

“Kind of,” Lyra answered sheepishly. “I mean, I'm nowhere near Twilight's level, and I was never technically admitted to the school. I kind of snuck in.”

“Yes, I was quite amused by that, in fact,” Luna said. “Forging the paperwork, showing up for classes with the confidence that thou belonged there, making friends and alliances for a year before anyone even noticed the deception. I can think of no more suitable candidate for this mission. There are a few spells thou must learn, and then thou art going to sneak into Dragon's Hoard."

Author's Notes:

Yeah, that's right. Two updates in one month. I must be some kind of machine. The third and final part of the diamond dog war will be finished soon too. It's going to be a hoof-biter!

I would also like to note that the idea about Lyra's backstory, which will be explored more next chapter, is not entirely my own. I haven't copied it detail for detail, but the inspiration for it came from her backstory in Ether Echoes' wonderful ”Through the Well of Pirene. Just wanted to give credit where it's due.