“This is what we've waited for, to have the best night ever!

Each of us will live our dreams, tonight at the Gala, at the Gala!”

The Grand Galloping Gala was many things: a light party for the elite of Canterlot and Equestria, a gathering of minds, a celebration of light in the limelight, and the glory of their nation.

I hate it. The thought was simple, yet it rang truthful to the stallion as he walked through the gated courtyard, his briefcase swinging from side to side. Two of Canterlot’s finest stared at him, their expressions slightly curious. After all, it wasn’t normal for a guest to use the back entrance. He hunched his shoulders involuntarily, oppressed by the massive white stones surrounding him and rising to the sky.

A paved walkway cut through the well-pruned gardens of the estate, splitting and forking, but always led back to the massive castle. The thumps of his hooves on the pavement echoed through the yard, the uneven rhythm broken as the stallion took his time.

The curved and heavily decorated walls of the castle gave way to a thick double-door made of reinforced wood. From within, Dreamer could hear the faint whisper and constant pluck of music.

He paused, sighing as he contemplated not only his surroundings, but himself.

A bitter autumn wind found its way between the outer walls and the building that was the centre of the commotion, cutting through his newly-made and freshly-tailored suit, before moving on.

I don’t like this, he thought, a plume of breath escaping him as a sigh. The mere thought of entering the building and doing what he had to do irked him, yet it was necessary.

A solid thunk and the rattle of steel on steel caught his attention, prying his gaze from the door. Three ponies, two of them unicorns, were huddled by the guard’s barrack stuck into the far wall. All three fiddled with a long rack fitted with hundreds of small tubes. Magics weaved around the mechanism as they placed a series of fuses.

The fireworks are here. Brilliant. Shaking his head, the stallion picked up his bag and took a fateful step towards the door, shoving his shoulder into it and trotting into the castle.

Within was a familiar sight to those acquainted with castles and mansions: a long corridor, its marble floor covered in a thick Purrsian rug extending down the entire length of the corridor’s surface, reflecting the light spilling out of scones placed at neat intervals.

My mission is simple. I just need to focus, do what I set out to do, then Canterlot... no, Equestria, will be a better place. He slipped forward, shoulders setting themselves straighter as he walked down the corridor.

The music became louder and he could hear the faint murmur of the invited ponies as he headed to the door at the far end. The gilded wooden obstacle gave way to a twist of his forehoof.

Again, Dreamer paused. This time however, his eyes didn’t idly wander around; instead, his sharp gaze went from face to face as he looked for his target.

A fiery-maned pegasus in one corner was sitting at a bar when a unicorn slipped a fat letter to her, one she speedily slipped into her Wonderbolts outfit.

The centre of the room was made up of a massive line of ponies slowly heading towards a raised platform where two princesses sat. Their regal forms were waiting within the massive forms of two thrones similar in their differences: the eastern side ablaze in glorious representation of the sun, while the west sat in the wondrously flowing smoothness of night.

He shifted his gaze to the centre floor where the line ended and the trivialities began. Hundreds of ponies huddled together in small groups, chatting and gossiping over the sound of the lonely big-band in the corner.

At the food tables, a beautiful slim unicorn mare was sensuously walking around a crowd of stallions whose eyes failed to deviate from her flank for any given amount of time. Her tail skimmed across their coats and flicked at their chins.

Beyond her was a single tall unicorn dominating a harem of mares and stallions by sheer force of will. They tittered and laughed at his queues while fawning him with the occasional compliment. He sat there, recounting a tale filled with innuendo and vague messages while reveling in the attention.

Found you. Now, I’ll make your life a nightmare. May Celestia forgive me.

Dreamer’s eyes narrowed as he plotted a path to his target, weaving around a few dancing couples and jostling through large groups of talking friends. Unconcerned by the cross looks he received, the sky-blue pony coasted to a stop in the centre of his target’s crowd and dropped his briefcase with a clatter.

“Fancy Pants!” he said, elation and joy in his voice as he gave the confused stallion a wide-eyed grin. “I have been wishing to see you for a long, long time, good sir!”

The stallion easily returned the smile, his ingrained habits taking over. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister...?”

“Ah,” Dreamer exclaimed, touching hoof to chest as if he was injured. “Please, forgive me. My name is Dazzler. I’m a... business pony from Manehattan.”

The noble stallion extended a hoof and they traded a firm shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mister Dazzler. I believe you know who am, already?”

The crowd laughed along with Fancy Pants and Dreamer, the giggle immediately cutting off and all ears perked as the two resumed their exchange.

“So, how can I help you today?” Fancy asked, giving a quick furtive glance at his watch, a cue Dreamer didn’t miss.

“Well, I have an interesting proposal to make you, or at least, one I would like to share with this fine crowd of elegant ponies.” Dreamer turned from side to side and gestured at all those surrounding him. “As I previously stated, I’m from Manehatten, and you should all very well know that, other than our atrocious accent, we also have an atrocious taste in clothes.”

The appropriate amount of giggling ensued before he continued. “Now, I know you of all ponies know the value of proper attire and the marketing thereof. And I believe it could be quite... lucrative to talk some more on the subject.”

A dozen eyes twinkled at the word ‘lucrative’, the fact that Fancy Pants nodded approvingly only adding to the disguised glee. “I see. Well, this certainly merits some discussion, especially if you have the venues to sell?”

“I do, indeed. Sixteen locations throughout the region, all of them operating at full tilt. Unfortunately, I cannot meet the demands of my customers, hence my presence.”

“Brilliant! Mayhaps we could meet at a later date?” Fancy Pants asked, an eyebrow rising just enough as a tiny speck of a smile touched his handsome visage.

Dreamer nodded, then wiped a hoof across the lapels of his expensive suit. “There’s another matter I wish to discuss,” he said, pointedly looking at the bloated black bag at his hooves. “One that requires the utmost care and discretion. One that I hold dearly, as do the... ponies I represent. All of whom are very well endowed in terms of bits, might I add.”

The noble pony’s smile faded, replaced by a look that meant only business. “Forgive me, everyone; seems like I’ll have to go for a moment.” His precious harem groaned. “Don’t worry, I’ll return within moments, I promise.”

You might not be able to keep that promise.

Fancy Pants stepped forwards. “Have you a place where we can talk in private, Mister Dazzler?”

“Of course! Please, follow me.” Dreamer twisted around, forcing the crowd to expand and make room. “The Princess allowed me the use of one of her guest quarters. Isn’t she simply magnificent?”

Ears perked and some looked over him with new eyes as Fancy trailed to his side. Bending over, Dreamer picked up his bag and tossed it onto his back with a huff.

“She is perfect: the finest ruler in our land and all we shall ever need... for governance,” Fancy said as he kept pace.

Dreamer led the noble pony past the long line meeting the alicorn in question and into the banquet hall beyond. There, the fresh smell of a hundred dishes mingled with the expensive scent of perfume and cologne, setting his nose afire and making his eyes water.

From the hall, the sky-blue pony bee-lined to a recessed door and opened it, allowing Fancy Pants to trot ahead. As he closed the door, the sound from beyond diminished until it became nothing more than muffled noise.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, deeper into the depths of the palace. The white unicorn clearly grew less and less certain of his new companion the further they trotted from the bustling crowds making up his world.

“So,” Fancy began as they marched through another stone corridor, this one heavily decorated with golden chandeliers and priceless art, “which of my services do you need, exactly?”

“You provide more than one?” Dreamer said, a hint of mocking in his tone.

The unicorn huffed. “Don’t jest; this is a serious matter.”

“One we will address in a private room, far from ears and magic. We’re almost there.” Dreamer pointed with his chin towards a particular door, one whose frame was studded with gems. So far, so good; he’s only mildly suspicious.

Dreamer picked up his pace and reached the entrance first, clicking the door open. “Come on in.”

Fancy Pants murmured a thanks and trotted into the dark room, the light of a single dim candle playing across his narrowing eyes. His horn glowed, further illuminating the area as he found another candle and stared at it.

Behind him, Dreamer pulled the door shut and finally relaxed as he snapped a massive bolt in place.

The noble kept staring at the unlit stub of wax, his expression turning into a glare. “Why can’t I—”

“Magic won’t work here, Mister Fancy Pants,” Dreamer said, his disguise and false personality falling off like an ill-begotten mask. Gently, he slid his briefcase off of his back and walked in a large circle around the room, setting his bag on a solid wooden table. Soon. I have to be tender with this.

Taking his time, he reached under the table and pulled out a small black box, fully aware of the eyes following his every gesture. The box thumped on the table, billowing out a fine dust on either side before Dreamer popped the lid open.

Reaching in, the stallion pulled out a chandelier and a mouth-operated flint that he quickly used, scraping it against its stone to start a small flame. In no time, the candle was lit.

Light flooded into the once-dark room, revealing walls of burnished oak studded with bright jewels and two chairs on either side of a desk. Other than that, the room was eerily bare. “Please, Mister Fancy Pants, sit.”

Brows still furrowed, Fancy Pants trotted across the room, briefly examined one of the seats, and hopped onto it, placing both hooves on the table. “I’ll admit, Mister Dazzler, that this is one of the more impressive setups I’ve seen for this type of arrangement, not to mention the timing of it. Splendid.”

Dreamer smiled, puffing his chest out in pride before remembering the act was now over. He found his way to his own seat, dragging the briefcase across the table as he did so. The sound filled the room and stopped abruptly as he hopped onto his chair.

With two clicks, the tabs on his case popped and he opened the bag, effectively blocking Fancy’s line of sight. “What do you do for a living?”

The noble blinked. “What do I do?” he repeated, appalled, as he glared at the bag. “You should know full well what I do, sir. It’s a simple job. I know things and ponies, and I occasionally help some ponies meet others in order to facilitate business. Nothing more.”

“And the morality of all that?”

“Morality?” The stallion began tapping his hoof on the table top, beating a steady pattern. “I don’t tell my clients what to do. I’ll admit that, at times, I had a difficult time reasoning with myself, but I’ve always slept soundly, not to mention on a pillow made of exotic Griffon down.”

“I see.” Dreamer pulled out a menacing black mask from the bag and strapped it onto his face, expertly pulling the cold leather straps around his mane. He spoke once more, his voice muffled and dull as it passed through the mask. “That’s interesting, Fancy Pants. You see, our goal wasn’t to touch people like you. Rather, we wished to remove the corruption that made your line of work plausible. So, if you'll just cooperate nicely, you'll be free to go.”

The noblestallion shifted within his chair. “Who are you, and what do you want, exactly?” he said. “I rather dislike the way you’re talking to me.”

“Who I am? My name is Dreamer.” He slapped the bag shut, the sound echoing through the room. They stared at each other, Dreamer through the thick glass of the full-faced mask as a tab popped with every breath. “Nice to meet you.”

Fancy Pants swallowed hard, blinking away the fear that made his mouth taste of metal as he quickly composed himself. “W-what?”

“I'm sure you've heard of us. We've been around. Rumours and the likes. You know how it goes. You tend to like rumours, don’t you?”

The stallion threatened to bolt, grabbing the edges of the table even as a useless sparkle sputtered out of his long horn. “Wait!” Dreamer barked, freezing the noble on the spot. “Let’s talk. I swear on Luna’s name that you won't be harmed.” At least, I hope it won’t be too harmful.

“So, you’re one of them? One of those creeps that has been going around and making quite a few ponies’ days miserable? You guys are scum, you know.” A glint flashed in his eyes, one not caused by the burning candle. “But, there’s profit in murder, if that’s what you wish?”

“Disgusting. I actually wish I could kill you.” Dreamer shook his head, the long nose of his mask swinging from side to side. “No, we just want information, on some of your clients...” He reached into his coat and pulled out a list, one he unfolded on the table, the candlelight splashing on half a dozen names. “We need you to confirm some things.”

With a deep intake of air, Fancy Pants bent back and stared at the ceiling, letting it all out in a slow sigh. “I see. There are a few things I wish to know, first.”

“Ask.”

“First, will I live... no, don’t answer that; it’d be too easy to lie.” He sighed again. “In the eventuality that I do live, will I receive payment? Second, what, exactly, do you need to know? You’ve been skirting around the question for a while. Third, I wish to know why.”

Dreamer nodded. “I’ll answer the third, first. We are doing this to end corruption, and the clients you have may or may not be our enemies.”

“I see.” He waved his hoof in a tiny circle, signaling Dreamer to carry on. “And the other two?”

Beneath his mask, a cruel smile crossed his lips as he twisted the bag around, making it point towards the noble. It opened.

In neat lines within the solid bag were rectangular bills, all of them glowing a faint green in the light. “Ten times your usual rate. Hopefully enough to cover the expense of lost customers. We’ll also try not to spill the fact that you gave us information; it might ruin your reputation.”

Fancy Pants leaned forwards until he had practically climbed onto the table. “Very nice—”

Dreamer jammed his hoof forwards, lightly tapping the back of the case as a barrel poked out from beneath the bits. Fancy Pants had just enough time to close his eyes and cringe as a thick green gas washed over his face, sending him into a sputtering cough.

“What... what is that?” he asked as he waved a hoof through the air, swiping away at the clouds enveloping his head.

“It’s the answer to your first question, or at least, something that will aid in answering it.”

Fancy Pants kept coughing as he flopped into his chair, limbs falling limply at his sides. “What’s...?”

“Truth,” Dreamer said. The stallion ahead of him looked up, fear and understanding filling him. “Just enough to make you talk for a few days. Don’t worry; you’ll live.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Dreamer pushed away from the table and began pacing along its length, reaching the end before he spun around and walked back. “I’ll give you a name, you tell me what they do, and what we would be interested in. Understood?”

The stallion blinked, a line of drool seeping down the edge of his lip to slide onto his jacket. “Yes.”

The still-mobile stallion trotted nearer to the table and read the first name off of the list. “Moneybags.”

“He’s... he is ah bank. Works for the Canterlot bank. He likes foals, and accepts bribes,” Fancy said, his head lolling to one side. He began laughing, a mirthless, joyless laugh that wracked his entire body up and down. “You’re good... ah see what y’er doin’”

“Why, thank you. Now, Gemstone,” Dreamer said.

“Ah, he’s a jerk, real twit. Forces them zebra to mine for gems, don’t pay ‘em. Ah, really don’t like em, but ‘e pay’s good.”

Dreamer laughed. “You have an interesting accent there...”

“From countryside. ‘is mah real way of talkin’; ah just hide it.” Fancy Pants grimaced, vainly attempting to shut himself up.

“Oh, I could ask so many embarrassing questions.” Dreamer giggled to himself, then read the next name. “Parisian.”

“She’s clean. Only likes them rumours and wants ta be a big wig. She’s too nice to succeed.”

The masked stallion crossed the name off of the list while reading the next. The exchange continued. Dreamer reading, then Fancy Pants revealing what he knew in short, curt, and truthful sentences.

Time moved on and the candle in the room’s centre slowly burned, the wick melting away at the wax until nothing was left but a stub.

Finally, Dreamer finished. Reaching the end of the list, he crossed off one last name and stared at the eight remaining. So, these are the unlucky few.

“Thank you, Mister Fancy Pants. Your aid was greatly appreciated.” Dreamer spun around, tucking the note in the lapel of his jacket as he did so. “I know it’s rather anti-climatic, but I’ll be leaving. The bits are real.”

The room’s thick door clasped shut with a single minute click, one that quickly faded as Dreamer began walking down the corridor. This time however, he did not return towards the festivities, but instead, his hooves led him into a far less trafficked area of the palace. The smells drifting down the stone corridors were more than enough to point the way towards his destination. Rounding the corner, he faced a busy intersection.

A wide set of double doors were held open as a stream of ponies in decorative livery flowed in and out, all of them carrying laden trays as they trotted around in haste.

And now, for the easy part, Dreamer thought as he sighed and made his way into the corridor. Few looked at him, and most that did quickly had their attentions peeled away by the task at hoof. They had to feed a veritable army of eager guests and nobles.

Dreamer melted into the row of ponies walking into the congested kitchens, standing out in his well-trimmed tuxedo as they jostled ahead. As he passed the entrance, he was assaulted by a wall of warm air filled with a hundred aromas, from the sweat of the cooks constantly wiping their brows, to the thick gravies and sauted vegetables steaming in large cauldrons over open fires.

Dreamer shrugged the sudden thoughts of hunger and thirst away as he walked in. His eyes searched across the room, avoiding the cooking fires and the massive fridges letting out puffs of vapour air every time they opened.

Where is it? he wondered, frustration and stress starting to eat away at him. With a quick shake of his head, the stallion refocused. No, it’s not the time for this. There are only two tasks left, and then my mission will be a success. Finally, he caught sight of what he sought.

At the far end of the kitchen, where freshly prepared dishes were being placed on a long table, was a silver and gold platter covered in intricate patterns. With a sardonic smile, the sky-blue stallion pushed ahead, avoiding the moving chefs and servants as he approached the platter.

Looking over his shoulder, the stallion tipped the lid back, revealing six crystal cups set in a semicircle around a jade flagon, the dark blue of the coupe seemed to suck the very light out of the air as a hundred stars played across its surface.

With a quick swipe of his hoof, Dreamer tossed his note, letting the piece of paper slip to the bottom of the mug, before replacing the platter’s lid with a metallic clatter. And that’s that, he thought, allowing a tiny sigh to escape him.

His job, when he had received it, sounded deceptively simple, and that’s exactly how it had been, he considered as he spun around and began marching out of the kitchen, this time sticking to the line filing out.

Nothing had gone wrong, and that very thought unnerved him. No plan should ever go this well, especially not one centred around a location like this. Canterlot Castle, the last place he would have wanted to pull something like this off.

Yet here I am, walking through the house of our all-high rulers, aiding in the assassination of some of Equestria’s most honoured and powerful ponies. A smile crossed his lips, a wispy thing, flimsy, but with an undertone of determination, as if its owner had the full knowledge that he could take anothers life.

Now, he had only one thing to do: create a distraction.

He rounded a corner, one that took him away from the path used by dozens of waiters heading to the grand hall. A cold breeze twirled through the corridor, basking around his ankles as the stallion trotted forwards.

Dreamer’s ears perked and his eyes narrowed as his hoofsteps echoed out ahead of him. He slowed to a halt and pulled up his lapels, shrugging his suit jacket forwards. The hoofsteps continued to boom ahead.

He wasn’t moving.

At the far end of the hallway was another ninety degree turn, one he knew would lead him outside. But instead of the empty and quiet passage he was expecting and hoping for, it was occupied by an army of guards.

Dreamer’s blood ran cold as two neat rows of armour-wearing soldiers stomped towards him, all of their faces bent into fierce scrowls. At the head of the formation was a tall white unicorn, his sapphire-blue hair falling out through the opening of his helmet. He, amongst them all, was the only one who strode forwards with a calm presence, his eyes noting everything yet reacting to nothing. Finally, the stallion’s cerulean eyes landed on Dreamer, sending a shiver through the assassin’s back.

“Hello, sir,” the captain asked in his smooth, almost childish voice.

Dreamer nodded curtly, stilling his beating heart. I have nothing to worry about; just smile and let them move on. “Hello, Captain Armour,” he replied, giving the guard captain a timid smile. His gesture met stone-cold eyes.

“I was looking for you, Mister Dazzler.” Shining Armour stopped, the six guards behind him instantly imitating the movement with military precision.

Ah, trouble, we meet again. “And why’s that, Mister Shining Armour?” he asked, tilting his head to one side.

As easily as it had left, Shining’s easy smile returned, and Dreamer instantly felt the effect of the charismatic unicorn’s charm; he wanted to trust the captain. Hmm, he’s quite the opponent, Dreamer thought as he imitated the smile, gently sitting on the carpeted floor as if he had no worry.

“Well, it seems Mister Fancy Pants has disappeared. Were he anypony else, I would have assumed he had found his way into the cider a little too early.” Shining gave a court giggle, one Dreamer found himself joining. “But I know Fancy; he isn’t the type. In fact, he’s unlikely to go anywhere without a few friends. He’s the cautious type, you see...”

“I do, and I understand the quandry. But please, know that I am truthful when I say that I don’t know where he is,” Dreamer said, his entire body language just so as to convey uncertain honesty and a hint of worry.

The guard captain eyed him for a few moments, never blinking, until he nodded, let out a breath, and turned away, his digging gaze lingering elsewhere. “I see. That’s unfortunate. I’d rather spend the evening with my wife than run around looking.” He sighed, seeming to age at a maddening rate as he deflated, armour clinking as it shifted. “Noblesse Oblige, I guess. Thank you for your time, Mister Dazzle—”

A clanking sounded out behind them, caused by a leather-clad pegasus zipping through the hall, the metal plates at his side tweaking together at every wingbeat. “Sir, sir!” he called out, even as he came to a halt, the long rug bunching up beneath him.

Shining Armour took a half-step towards the pegasus. “What is it, private?”

“We found Fancy Pants, sir.”

“Well, this is good news,” Shining said as his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s the issue? Is he injured?”

“No— yes, sir. He’s catatonic, sir. We found him in one of Luna’s meditation rooms on the east wing, sir.”

And I was almost out of here. Now, I find myself with a new conundrum.

Shining Armour turned his attention to Dreamer, his eyes calculating and cold. “Mister Dazzler, are you positive that you were unaware of anything?”

“I do know one thing,” Dreamer began, gently slipping towards the captain in as nonchalant a fashion as possible. “If you hit a unicorn at the base of his horn, it sends a jolt down his spine. Like this.”

Dreamer fell forwards, his entire body swooping towards the ground until, at the very last second, his forehoof shot out, contacting with the unicorn’s horn with the full weight of his body.

Shining Armour’s head snapped back before he groaned. Not wasting a moment, Dreamer rolled passed him and landed on his hooves on the captain’s opposite side, back facing the disorientated guard. Rearing up on his front hooves, Dreamer lashed out, bucking the guard captain in his armoured ribs and sending the unicorn sprawling across the ground.

The six guards behind him blinked as their commander writhed on the ground. Then, as one, the unit sprang forwards, shouting and attempting to draw the long steel swords held along their sides.

Idiots. Years of training and discipline, but too much time spent thinking of honour and chivalry. Good qualities to have. Not in a fight.

The first guard charged at him, sword held evenly at his side. With a grunt, the pony twisted his head to one side, swinging the massive piece of sharp steel through the air with a powerful whoosh.

Dreamer crashed onto his stomach, avoiding the blow by a hair’s breath, before hopping back up and rearing onto his rear legs. He walked forwards and swung out with both forehooves, ramming hit after hit into the guard’s helmeted head even as the flinching pony dropped his sword and tried to back away.

Slamming back onto all fours, Dreamer sprinted ahead and slid under the guard he was assaulting, aware that two more were approaching him with extended weapons. Heaving, the sky-blue pony lifted the armoured stallion and tossed him into one of the guards, driving both to the ground.

Another charged forwards, swiping his sword down from above and slitting the air as Dreamer dove to one side. The blade smashed into the ground, sending a volley of sparks flying as it hit the rough stone.

The pegasus still holding back simply stared until one of the guards screamed, “Get some help!” Startled, the pegasus flapped his wings uselessly for a few beats before spinning around and galloping out of the hall. At the far end, a crowd of waiters were peeking around the corner, watching the scuffle in awe.

Dreamer blinked, his gaze shifting to the open corridor behind him to the five still-standing soldiers. Shining Armour was grunting and massaging his horn as he sorely climbed onto his hooves.

May Luna save me, he thought in exasperation, his mind running through countless options and possibilities. Run.

His thought was as instant as his reaction. Twisting around, Dreamer’s hooves clattered against the ground, the sound absorbed by the thick carpet as he sprinted ahead.

The guards paused for a tenth of a second before charging ahead, their armour and weapons clicking against their sides as they grunted.

The sky-blue stallion twisted around the corridor’s intersection, a dozen waiters following him with awe-filled eyes as scurried past them.

“Stop right there, criminal scum!”

“Oh, jump off a cliff!” Dreamer screamed over his shoulder as he ran deeper and deeper into the castle. At the end of the hall was a massive staircase circling up and out of sight, the stone steps cutting sharp angles as they rose.

With no hesitation, the stallion clopped up the steps three at a time, panting and blinking sweat out of his eyes.

In the staircase, was an armoured guard was walking down. He paused, blinking at Dreamer and furrowing his brows as he tilted his head to one side. “Do you need he—”

Dreamer bolted past him, skidding to a halt on the steps behind the pony to strike out with a swift buck. The impact thudded against the steel plating over the guard’s backside, sending a shiver through both the armour and Dreamer’s legs as the stallion tripped and tumbled down the steps, screaming as he crashed into the oncoming guards.

Time; I need more time, Dreamer thought as he resumed his flight, taking a little solace at the bitter swears emanating behind him.

The stallion reached the top of the winding staircase and paused, taking a few precious seconds to look ahead.

This, is not where I wanted to go. Dreamer thought as his eyes took in the hall before before him.

Grand. That was the only word he could think of to describe the sprawling corridor before him. With golden chandeliers, vibrant red carpeting, and enormous, beautifully-crafted stained glass windows set into the flowing walls on either side, the passageway was a sight to behold, nearly thrice the size of anything Dreamer had ever seen.

Most impressive was the midnight blue alicorn strolling out of a room, the massive sapphire and silver door sliding shut behind her as she turned, her majestic mane billowing on a silent breeze behind her.

Thinking fast, Dreamer trotted across the room, his hoofsteps light on the red carpet. With quiet swiftness, he snuck behind the goddess of dreams and jammed his hoof into the crack of the doorway, stopping the door milliseconds before it shut. Holding his breath, Dreamer opened the entrance and backed into the room, only casting a furtive glance at the star-studded bed and the open ceiling before pulling the door closed.

The stallion swallowed hard and tried to quell his beating heart. This is mad.

In the hallway beyond, he could hear the muffled sounds of guards as they clambered around. The princess stopped, her long legs stilling as she looked down at the soldiers. Her cyan eyes inspected the soldiers as they bowed to her, trying their best to hide their wounds and panting breaths. “What is the reason for this?” Luna asked, her voice causing the stained glass to rattle.

“Sorry, Princess Luna. A pony has been causing some trouble. He assaulted the captain and fled up here,” one within the group said, even as more swarmed into the hall.

“And this concerns Us how? We have seen no pest capable of besting Our niece's husband.”

“I, I-uh, my apologies, Your Highness; we're just trying to keep you, and all of the guests, safe.

The Princess harrumphed and spun around. “So be it. We shall return to Our sister’s side. We have matters of state to care for.”

The guards bowed once more. “Thank you. We’ll simply inspect the surroundings and be on our way; we don’t wish to interrupt you.”

“We see... do not look within my room.” The guard gave her a curious glance, then looked towards the room, prompting Dreamer to slink away from the crack. “Worry not; only a fool would cross the threshold. Doing so would bring about their prompt demise.”

With that, the alicorn spun around and marched away, allowing the guards to hop back to their search.

Dreamer clasped the door shut, then looked at his forehoof. Prompt demise.

Curious.

They searched. Guards running everywhere across, and then around, Canterlot castle as they looked high and low for a sky-blue stallion. One that never appeared.

The guests wondered at first, then their curiosity spurred stories both tall and horrible about the going-ons of the castle, some running wild as they shocked and drove many to wonder.

In the kitchens, a mug was tipped, a note was read.

A unicorn smiled.

Cyan eyes watched it all.

Author's Notes:

Edited by:
-Staple Cactus

Pre-Read by:
-Frederick the Saiyan
-FlutterSyke