Pomarbo stares at the approaching blue bubble from the hard-cushioned seat aboard the Friendship Express, doing his best to make out the opaque and barely visible barrier through the swirling snowstorms that perpetually rage in the Frozen North. This will be the fourth time he’s left Ponyville, all within the last six months. The other three times he went to Canterlot for various parties, and all descended into disaster: Discord at the Grand Galloping Gala, Chrysalis at Twilight’s Coronation (though he didn’t learn about her presence until after Shining Armor’s wedding got ‘disrupted’), and the Storm King’s forces at Twilight’s Friendship Celebration. Will this one be any different? Maybe he should have stayed home and sorted through that box. Nopony ever got hurt around the Cider Squeezy. Except for that one time.

The mares and fillies of the herd (except those that live in Canterlot) fill the rest of the train car. Chief Architect Chrysalis sits alone in the furthest corner brooding about some big venture she has planned for the Griffon Empire. The rest hustle and bustle about making sure everything is in order, Rainbow Dash especially unable to sit still. The Brave and Glorious Emperor Spike (though he stills answers to Spikey-Wikey, according to dahm Twilight) has ramped up security for the Equestria Games, and that includes the Princesses themselves, regardless of how above suspicion they really ought to be. He can feel the train slowing as they approach the first checkpoint, little more than a shack on the outskirts of the blue shield.

“Po?” Diamond Tiara flutters her eyelashes from next to him. It’s annoyingly distracting. “Can you help me lace up?”

Pomarbo shrugs. “As ya wish.” If they need help they should have picked a simpler dress, but the mares have been asking more and more for him to assist with even the tiniest of chores. He wants to tell them to help each other, or grit their teeth and do it themselves, yet finds himself being generous and helping out nonetheless. You know, he really should find a better way to refer to the mares than ‘the mares’.

The layered pink and gold dress is scrunched halfway up DT’s barrel, the pink tie around the center is loose, and a golden rose pin lays on the bench. He has to admit, her outfit for the flag ceremony looks really good, though it’s far too frilly. To be fair, any frills would be too frilly, and he’s glad his suit is spared any of the flair that exudes from her and Silver Spoon’s full-body gowns like worms from a mealy apple. He dutifully wraps a pink ribbon around her barrel, trying not to stare at her exposed flanks as he shifts from one side to the other, and ties a pretty bow on the left side. He’s gotten a lot of practice tying bows, and laces for that matter, with how often they have him dressing and undressing them. Satisfied with his work he moves to her front, undoes her crude attempt at a bowtie, and carefully folds the pink fabric with a few quick moves and cinches it down. His dam would be proud of this knot! He nods to himself as he pins the golden rose above the crisscrossing pink straps, right on the bow tie, careful not to prick her. He’d never hear the end of that!

“Acceptable,” DT says, rewarding him with a quick kiss. He blushes - why does she insist on doing that? She holds out all four hooves. “Now these.”

“As ya wish.” To be fair, only a unicorn would have an easy time with the strapped shoes, and he quickly threads the laces around her forelegs and straps them down. They really ought to have gone with simpler and more comfortable shoes, no matter how good they look in them. Like galoshes! He should have worn galoshes.

“Thanks,” Diamond Tiara says, winking. “Maybe you’ll get a cutie mark in costumes!”

He would sooner shear his flanks. “Ah’ll leave that to dahm Rarity’s filly.” For as many alterations as the latest round of foals are causing, he half expects Rarity second filly to pop out with scissors in one hoof and a measuring tape in the other.

“Now do me!” Silver Spoon exclaims, presenting the twisted and knotted remains of her attempt. Pomarbo sighs; at least Cozy Glow doesn’t have anything to wear, just her purple parka if they want to play in the snow, though they won’t have much opportunity to do so until after the Games tomorrow.

Afterwards he leaves the mares to admire themselves in a hoofheld mirror. “Hey, Twi?” Pomarbo says, trotting over to the mare holding very still while Rarity applies some sort of product to her mane. She doesn’t like it when he’s formal with her, even though she’s a Princess. “Ah have a question.”

“Of course,” Twilight says, though her attempt to turn and regard Pomarbo is foiled by Rarity’s iron hoof.

Celestia help him if he has to go through that. “What’s a word with ‘C’, ‘D’, an’ ‘S‘ in it?”

“Cads,” Twilight returns immediately. “Cods, cuds. Disc. Audacious.” A smile plays on her muzzle. “Any particular reason?”

It probably wouldn’t go over well if he said, ‘I want a word to refer to these mares that keep following me around’. Oh, he should include Roil. “What about usin’ an ‘R’ as well?”

“Cards, curds, ciders. Cadres. Decors. Discord.” A twinkle shines from purple eyes. “Cursed.”

“You will be cursed if you do not hold still,” Rarity chides.

Twilight obeys, though her smirk remains. “Predacious, if you want to include a ‘P’. Or crisped. Did I answer your question?”

“Eeyup. Thanks!” Pomarbo trots back to his fellow Ciders, who have finished admiring themselves and now require assistance in removing their garments, but not before Rarity comes by and, after smoothing out a few wrinkles and straightening the edges, gives her okay. Then they insist on making sure his suit fits, even though it’s just a quarter suit, barely more than a collar and bowtie.

At least it’s not as bad as what his sire is wearing. He’s covered head to foot against the chill of the train piercing through snow-covered tracks, even with a mare snuggling at each side, this time Fluttershy and Twilight. It’s weird seeing him with his flanks covered, the colorful garments adorned with cutie marks in roughly the same place as the tattoos underneath, but they look artificial, like he’s disguising himself as somepony else. Not that anypony would make that mistake, of course.

The train comes to a gradual stop outside the bubble, the whistle blowing a muffled greeting. Two crystal guards step inside, fully clad in arctic gear with gray plumed helmets and teal plate barding. Icy wind rages behind them until a completely covered Storm Minion blocks the doorway, his beady eyes as stony as his white mask.

“Attention, everypony,” the yellow crystal guard states loudly, though wearily, as they have been checking passengers for days. Even the presence of one of Equestria’s four Princesses fails to rouse any sort of excitement. “Please have your tickets, invitations, or event passes ready for inspection. You will be asked a series of security questions, checked against an Honesty stone. Thank you for your cooperation, and welcome to the Crystal Empire.”

Thanks to Twilight’s obsessive organization, everypony has their forms ready to go. The yellow guard quickly makes her way down one side, her purple partner on the other. The Honesty stone in her hoof flashes green, green, green, all Applejack’s answers short and to the point. And then it’s Pomarbo’s turn to be regarded with a long stare that sends the hair on the back of his neck on end.

“Name?”

At least the first question is easy. “Pomarbo.”

After a second the stone blinks orange. Uh oh.

The guard sighs, bored at what must be a common occurrence. “Full name?”

“Pomarbo Apple?”

Green. “Did you bring any fruit with you?”

“Apples!”

Green. The guard makes a note of this. “Are you a changeling?”

What? “Ee-nope.”

Green. “Do you know of any plans to overthrow the democratically elected government of the Crystal Empire, or the current whereabouts of the tyrant known as Sombra or his accomplices?”

Pomarbo’s face scrunches up. “Ee-nope?”

Green. “You will be required to submit any magical items for inspection. Do we have your consent to perform a full-spectrum scan of your person, followed by a dispel that may disrupt any ongoing spells or magical items not disclosed? If so, sign here.”

They want to what? He doesn’t think a dispel will affect him. “Eeyup.”

Green. He signs the presented page.

“Thank you,” the guard says, asking Diamond Tiara and then Silver Spoon the same questions and getting signatures before moving on. Everything proceeds smoothly until the yellow guard gets to Twilight and Doug.

“Classified,” Twilight replies succinctly when she refuses to surrender any of her magical items, or allow the scan and dispel on her person. “And I would strongly recommend against a covert attempt. The backlash could seriously injure whomever tries.”

“We understand the desire for defensive measures,” the yellow guard says, still sounding bored. “Are you willing to submit to a personal inspection by Princess Cadance or Princess Celestia?”

“Sure,” Twilight snaps. According to Meringue she loves fulfilling bureaucratic red tape, and it must chafe to leave a box unchecked. “Seeing as they helped, that will be no problem.”

“Very well.” The guard flips to the back and pulls out a red index card that she gives to Twilight. “When you arrive at the Crystal Empire, present this instead of going through the standard screening process.” She turns to Doug. “Name?”

“Doug Graves Apple.”

The stone stays dark. The guard gives it a shake, but nothing happens. “Worth a shot,” she says, pulling out a red card and repeating her instructions, which Doug accepts with an apologetic shrug. The two guards then disembark, faces covered against the freezing cold, before the train gets underway once again, struggling to regain any momentum against the packed snow.

Pomarbo watches with growing fascination as the shield of the Crystal Empire approaches. From a distance it seemed like such a little thing, a painted apple dropped in the snow. Yet he has to crane his neck further and further back just to keep the top in sight, the sides becoming a sheer and holdless surface that would stymie even the most adept climbers. He grips Diamond Tiara’s hoof, her harried breaths quickening, as they speed headlong towards the opaque wall.

And then they are through, a sudden transition from winter to summer. Celestia’s sun shines brightly through the transparent barrier while wispy white clouds swirl above in wide circles. The window seat suddenly becomes a luxury as the Ciders crowd the chilly glass. Already wide eyes strain to grow even wider as they pass one sparkling building after another, every colorful sight a new wonder to behold. At least for the Ciders; he mostly wonders how that giant castle manages to stay standing on four flimsy legs. Ugh, and ‘magic’ is such an unsatisfying answer.

The Crystal Empire train station is nearly deserted, their arrival being the last of the day. Security ponies still roam the premises, watching the train with what his dam would call stoicism and what everypony else would call utter boredom. They stack their luggage on a cart, hauling it to yet another checkpoint where they are asked stupid questions about their bags and who packed them (Twilight, of course), walk through some weird beeping machine staffed by apathetic unicorns, and finally get to the other side. Free at last! And just in time to see Princess Celestia, his sire clinging to her back, fly from the train station to the balcony of the Crystal Castle and set the sun.

Competition is fierce between which of the tall buildings lining the street is the brightest and most colorful, every surface polished to a mirror shine. It’s even fiercer between the vendors along the sides who shout their wares, each looking for one last sale before closing for the night. It’s all Pomarbo can do to keep his modest bitbag shut at the promised ‘deals’. Diamond Tiara has no such compunction, decidedly unconcerned about price and snagging everything that catches her eye, from fruits to fabrics to a brand-new flugelhorn. He doesn’t care for the wasteful expenditures. That is, until she comes across a set of crystal tools with a guarantee to be inedible even to dragons. He needs that!

After another hour of shopping, and needing to drop off bags to be sent to their rooms in the Crystal Castle twice, their yawns get too large to ignore. He’s not tired, of course, and they haven’t even been to the library yet! Or the stadium, but that’s dark and guarded. Still, dahm Rarity instilled in him a certain generosity, of doing what others want you to do, so he dutifully follows along, dragging their latest purchases behind.

Their sparsely decorated room feels like a repurposed janitor’s closet, complete with exposed piping and racks for brooms, but if Diamond Tiara complains he doesn’t really listen. Silver Spoon and Cozy Glow push the four slim beds together while trading smirks, then hop on, testing the springiness. Dam never lets him jump on the bed, but after a moment’s hesitation he joins them, giddily bouncing up and down.

Diamond Tiara comes out of the ‘bathroom’ with her face completely covered in purple goop and her mane in rollers. Pomarbo can’t help but stare, confused as to the purpose of the cream. With a mere glance they all quiet down. She carefully spreads a towel over her pillow and slowly climbs up, careful not to spill any.

“Do ya really think Sombra would try anythin’?” Pomarbo asks Diamond Tiara once they are settled, all ponyloaf with him in the center. He hopes they don’t need to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom.

“With all the Princesses and Elements and guards?” Diamond Tiara snickers. “He’d have to be an utter foal to try. Or suicidal.” She yawns, head dipping down but staying above her pillow. “Good night.”

“Night,” they chorus to each other. How can they possibly sleep when…

Next Chapter: Ch. 188 - Overwhelming Odds, Part Three Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 19 Minutes