It was Zero Dark Stupid in the morning.

On the distant edges of Equestria's blurry borders, firmly in the territory disputed with the gryphons, there was a valley.

In the valley, there was a caravan encampment.

Overlooking the encampment there was a hill.

On that hill was a bush.

And in that bush there was a pale yellow unicorn stallion, concealed within the foliage under the darkness of night.

In front of the stallion lay an open case containing a mix of tubes, pipes and mechanisms.

Despite the darkness, practiced hooves – for any magic could reveal his presence – quickly assembled the components into a contraption that very few civilians in Equestria would recognize. And a disconcertingly small number of military personnelle as well.

Soon only three object remained in the case.

He grabbed the first, a rounded stainless steel cylinder, and set it's threads in position before spinning it; it made a short hissing sound before settling into place.

Then he grabbed the second – a flat, longish black box – and examined the top where a single olive green fletched dart – containing a powerful, fast-acting sleeping potion – was visible. He took the box and roughly pushed it into its slot, where it settled with a satisfying thunk.

Finally he reached both hooves to the last object and gently lifted it from its place. The object, a black tube that narrowed in the centre, was the most expensive single component of the lot. More expensive than the rest combined, in fact. It was a delicate device of a dozen lenses of the finest optical glass of Equestrian make.

He gingerly lifted the tube to its place along the top of his contraption and softly pressed down until it settled into place with a click.

He settled into position, his right hoof laying next to the triggerplate, and brought the scope to his eye. A thread of power to his Mark and the darkness was no longer a problem, a second told him that his scope was still zeroed, that it hadn't wandered from being jostled.

Or at least it hadn't wandered enough that it would matter for the dart gun.

He felt naked without his typical rifle. The dart gun would work for ponies or gryphs, but would be useless against any of the larger beasties that stalk these woods.

He scoped in on closest of the guards of the camp.

He flicked his ear in a practised motion, “Eta Actual, this is Eta Overwatch, I am ready and in position, Over.”

=Heard and understood, Eta Overwatch, Out.= Came a crackling voice directly into his ear.

A couple moments passed.

=Eta Team, this is Eta Actual, role call, over.=

=Eta Actual, this is Eta Burn, hear you loud and clear, over.=

“Eta Actual, this is Eta Overwatch, hear you loud and clear, over.”

=Eta Actual, this is Eta Night, hear you loud and clear, over.=

=Eta Actual, this is Eta Moth, hear you loud and clear, over.=

The was a pause.

=Eta Red? role call, over.=

=...ry, buck, still learning to use this thing, uh, over.=

=Please, do not swear on the radio, Eta Red, over.=

=Sorry, over.=

=This is role call, Eta Red, over.=

=Oh, right, um, Eta Actual, this is Eta Red, hear you loud and clear, over.=

=Eta Actual, this is Eta Sword, hear you loud and clear, over.=

=Eta Team, this is Eta Actual, hear you loud and clear. Remember Eta Team, rules of engagement are non-lethal capture, lethal force is only permitted in cases of imminent mortal peril. Most of the tangos are asleep, and Eta Night has made sure that will be unlikely to change. You already know the plan, attack will be on my order, out.=

Several long minutes passed.

=Eta Team, you are cleared for attack, out.=

Sir Crack Shot, sniper for Eta Team of the Twilight Guard, rolled his hoof over the triggerplate causing his weapon to release a dart with a soft 'pft'.

Through his scope he saw his shot hit home as the mare on guard suddenly sprouted some fletching from her neck. She looked confused for a few seconds before the potion took effect and collapsed boneless to the ground.

The stallion quickly aimed his sights at another guard ...

Princess Twilight Sparkle's return to wakefulness was a slow, difficult and ungraceful affair; the jealous claws of sleep were glacially slow to relinquish their grasp.

Twilight groaned, her voice strangely deep, before rolled over and accidentally flopped ungainly off the bed, bringing the sum total of her covers with her.

“What the buck even happened yesterday.” she spoke in a voice that was decidedly unmarelike, pausing for several seconds before realizing, “Oh, right, stallion, that's a thing.”

It took several minutes for Twilight to disentangle himself from the sheets and stand to his hooves.

Groggily the new-made stallion padded over to the far wall and casually slid his horn into an inconspicuous hole in the wall. A hole that easily took his horn to the base despite its recent growth in both length and girth, there's a penis joke in there somewhere.

Twilight channeled a tiny thread of power and felt a distinct click.

He withdrew his horn and investigated the hornlock finding that it was both larger in radius and higher up on the wall than it had been yesterday. Twilight shrugged his wings and muttered incoherently about magic crystal castles.

The stallion took a step back as the wall opened, revealing to the world his greatest shame.

He lit his horn and picked up a can at random, levitating it out in front of him.

'Salmon Feast Pate', joy, he stared at the can of cat food for a second.

It was a hyppogryph import, of course.

Domestic carnivore pet food producers had a long and sordid history of quality control problems, everything from lead cans, to improbably high mercury content, to using rotten meat, to cutting the food with a wide range of different additives, many of which were synthetic and/or inedible. Equestrian carnivore pet food wasn't fit for consumption for pets.

And then there was gryphon imports; the problem with them was far simpler. Gryphon imports had a greater than optimal chance of containing the flesh of ponies or other sentient species.

Twilight had no desire to become an accidental cannibal.

One time Twilight had even stumbled upon cans of Gryphish dog food that had proudly proclaimed that they were 'made with 100% beef'.

How they had even gotten into the Equestrian heartland had baffled the princess. Sure, 'beef' was a word that very few ponies would ever need to know, but did nopony in that entire supply chain go 'huh, mystery meat product from Gryphonia, that's suspicious, I should look up what this word means'? It's Gryphonia, the nation that is currently in civil war because the king banned eating sapient species.

Twilight had, of course, anonymously reported it to the relevant authority, and then having received a helpful anonymous tip, organized a Crown Inquisition on the subject.

The tangled web of incompetence and malfeasance that Princess Twilight Sparkle and Inquisitor Piercing Truth had uncovered in the following months had been downright impressive.

But that's a tale for another time.

Shortly after arriving in Ponyville, Twilight had made sure Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity and Pinkie Pie also bought hypogryph pet food; couldn't have her friends feeding their pets either industrial byproducts or pony. Twilight had always found it somewhat ironic that Rainbow was the only one of the six to not end up with a carnivore as a pet.

Fluttershy had been the only of the four to confront the unicorn about her suspiciously comprehensive knowledge of carnivore pet food, rightfully pointing out that Owlowiscious was easily capable of feeding himself.

Twilight had, of course, blamed books.

It was surprisingly useful to be known as a bookworm know-it-all. If anypony wondered about Twilight having some knowledge, skill or ability that she really shouldn't, it's a book's fault.

'Why, yes, I did easily take fifth in an earth pony farming community race despite being a sedentary unicorn with no training in racing, but that has nothing to do with the magically altered musculoskeletal system designed for long term galloping with minimal energy use that I totally don't have; it's actually because I read a book about running once.'

Twilight chuffed in amusement before shaking his head. He was procrastinating, despite knowing that it was best to get this part over with quickly.

He did not want to be walked in on and have to awkwardly explain to a friend, why, exactly, he had a locked hidden closet full of canned dog and cat food.

Twilight used telekinesis to plug his nose, open the can and then levitate the repugnant paste down his throat.

He almost didn't gag.

The joys of being an obligate omnivore, thank you, ancestors.

The disadvantage of hyppogryph pet food is that it's all based on fish, and is therefor, somehow, even more vile than its land prey equivalent.

How, precisely, pet food producers made such a disgusting substance out of meat had always eluded Twilight.

A quick cleaning spell followed by the tin can being thrown in the recycling and Twilight closed the closet, recycling is getting somewhat full, need to get it to the foundry soon.

As Twilight loped away from the closet, maybe I should go out to the White-Tail Woods and bag myself a rabbit, or maybe even a deer ...

Twilight froze, yes, he had just idly contemplated murdering and eating an innocent sentient animal.

And the worst part is that he couldn't even muster the energy to hate himself for it.

Predator instincts, Twilight thought, reduced capability to feel empathy with creatures viewed as 'prey'. It was why almost all Equestrian diplomatic overtures to Gryphonia failed.

And also why House Twilight's had succeeded; woe be to the poor gryph who mistakes a Twilight for prey.

Damn lunatic wolf-ponies.

Twilight froze, oh no. His instincts were back. That was not good, very not good.

The stallion continued his stride and passed his balcony, noticing – for the first time – the bright mid morning sun. “Oh, buck, what time is it.” A quick spell answered that question, and his eyes widened in panic “oh no, oh no, oh no, it's ten thirty four, I'm so late for so many things.”

The stallion started to hyperventilate as his schedule appeared in front of himself in a flash; he stared at it noncomprehending for a second, “Eh, heh heh.” He laughed awkwardly, “Of course. I had Spike cancel everything yesterday.”

Thankfully being a hero of Equestria came with a certain flexibility with appointments. After all, you never know when some idiot decides that today was going to be the day that she tries to fulfill her lifelong goal of turning the moon into cheese.

No, that wasn't an absurdist hypothetical.

That had actually happened.

Three different times.

With three different mares.

Why does my life make Spike's comic books seem grounded in comparison?

Twilight had already investigated everything he could for connections between the three mares and found nothing.

He had some theories, but he desperately hoped he was wrong.

Twilight sighed and pawed his way to the master bath.

He was feeling strangely ... stable this morning.

Not good, certainly not good. His mind was a horrible tempest of nightmarish angst, but he did not feel like he was one bad day from going mad.

He felt paradoxically calm, like he was so bucked up emotionally that he looped around to being okay.

Twilight's resulting muttering on the 'integer overflow of emotional resonances' would have made any psychologist or computer scientist very alarmed were they there to hear it.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the kind of hypothesis Twilight could test without becoming guilty of Crimes Against Equinity.

Twilight stared into the mirror that he suddenly realized was in front of him.

Well, if he had to be a stallion, at least he wasn't an ugly one.

While Twilight had always lacked any ability to subjectively determine the attractiveness of stallions, she had been fascinated with the subject and had conducted many studies on it. Several of which had even passed peer review and were published in prestigious equinities journals.

So it was with that empirically derived expertise that Twilight could conservatively estimate his own physical attractiveness at or above the 99th percentile.

The first observation that came to mind was the fact that he was big. Like standing just shy of Princess Celestia big. And considering that he did not have the elder alicorn's willowy build, he certainly outmassed her. A quick estimate put his new weight at approximately 23% heavier than Princess Celestia.

23% heavier than the tallest – and formerly the heaviest – pony in existence.

Despite his size, he did not have the thick musclebound form expected of plus-sized earth stallions like Big McIntosh. Instead, he had tight corded muscles built for speed and agility.

Built for running down prey and enemy combatants alike with swiftness and ferocity that unicorn ponies really shouldn't be capable of.

At that thought he felt an almost overwhelming urge to sprint out of the castle and into the White-Tail Woods to put his brand new body through the paces. To see, precisely, what a fit Twilight alicorn was capable of.

The land speed record was something like 97 km/h, he could crush that easily.

Instead Twilight padded a circle in front of the mirror, examining the rippling power in his muscles, visible even under his thick purple coat of shaggy fur.

Once he had come to a stop, he examined himself from top to bottom.

His horn was almost as long a Princess Celestia's, and significantly thicker at the base; he leaned forwards to examine the tip, finding it sharper than he could discern.

His ears – slightly more pointed than the equine norm – had grown proportionally to his face and were perked forward in an alert posture.

His eyes – with narrower pupils than would be expected at this light level – had grown a bit but were now proportionally smaller.

His muzzle, undoubtedly a stallion's, was both longer and more angular. It was – of course – also filled with a sharp dentition more fitting a wolf than pony.

His chest tuft was thick. A trait typically considered more desirable in mares, but not undesirable in stallions.

He smirked, Rainbow had a tendency to accuse Applejack of being a 'tuftlet', who would then call the former a 'marelet'. This usually resulted in the two mares wrestling themselves into the nearest mud puddle.

His wings were – as expected of an alicorn – big; he extended one wing to full length, then the other. Wow, even he was impressed, his span completelyeclipsed Princess Celestia. It wasn't that surprising considering that stallions had proportionally larger wings than mares among pegasi, and alicorns likewise had proportionally larger wings than mortal ponies. But, damn, that didn't prepare him for their sheer magnitude.

It would make flying in tight quarters ratherdifficult. But, as a Twilight, he would be better on his hooves in such a situation anyways, doubly so with his earth pony abilities.

And finally there was his brand spanking new reproductive system. And, well, it seems that horns and wings were not the only parts of an alicorn that were disproportionately larger than mortal ponies.

He experimentally oscillated his hindquarters back and forth, watching his testes swing in the mirror. He now understood why so many stallions chose to wear bras, although alicorn strength and durability meant he didn't explicitly need one.

Hmm, he wondered if Rarity made ballbras, it would have to be one of her more discreet services. He examined his testicles and found himself doubting there even wasa letter cup size for his ballsiness.He certainly would need a custom piece.

Rainbow Dash apparently found Twilight's ability to determine a stallion's cup size at a glancehilarious, despite it being a rather simple estimation of volume; Twilights had really good spacial reasoning.

And then there was his sheath. And, well, if his rough extrapolation based on the studies he had read was anywhere near correct – there was an unreasonable amount of literature on every aspect of the male reproductive system – then what was contained in that sheath could be classified as a lethal weapon.

No, Twilight was not exaggerating, there was a statistically significant portion of marekind that wouldn't survive an encounter with what Twilight was packing.

Wow, that's a morbid thought.

The only way to be 100% sure was to stick to mares who are either large or very durable. So alicorns, plus-sized mares and Rainbow Bucking Dash.

Hay, the mare may be smaller than average, but Twilight had seen her plow through a copse of trees at near Mach speeds and be fine.

Honestly, Twilight wasn't entirely certain the mare actually was mortal.

Unfortunately, Twilight had never gotten the chance to study the chromatic pegasus' abilities in detail. She was just too good at escaping restraints.

Nonetheless, Rainbow Dash had a distinct durability – and flexibility – that made her a valid potential mate for the oversized stallion.

And now he was idly considering who he might be able to have coitus with. Calm down Twilight, you've been a stallion for less than 24 hours.

Though, he had to be honest, he certainly didn't hate the idea.

In fact, he found he actually enjoyed the thought experiment.

And wasn't that a novel feeling.

Twilight's stared vacantly at the mirror, consumed by this new, captivating rumination.

Twilight padded up to the door to the bedchambers. It was a place he had been in but a couple of times as a filly. Yet, despite how little time he had spent there, he remembered it perfectly; as a young filly, Twilight had made it her purpose to remember every single thing she could about the room.

But he was not here for the room, he was here for what it contained.

When Twilight opened the door, the first thing that struck him was the scent. It was the same scent that Twilight had smelled so many times over his childhood, enough that it was burned into his mind.

But this time something was different.

No this time he was different. That same scent now meant so much moreto him.

For it was the scent of mare, the scent of Princess Celestia.

Twilight entered the room and froze at what he saw.

Princess Celestia lounged on her bed, her regalia tossed haphazardly on the floor and her mane a solid pink; her natural colour was something that he'd only seen a couple times as a filly.

Celestia turned her head to look at him, past her bountiful flank, “Twilight, I'm glad you came.”

“You called Celestia? What do you need?”

Celestia smirked seductively, “What do you think?” she asked in a husky tone. before flagging her tail.

Twilight's mouth went dry as he stared at the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on. It was far from the first time that he had seen Celestia's privates; that was unavoidable, typically the only thing that concealed them was a semi-transparent tail that refused to obey gravity.

Back when he had been a filly it had just been another part of Princess Celestia.

Now it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

A moment passed and Twilight saw a tiny flash of pink. He gasped, Princess Celestia had winked at him. He had never seen her wink before.

Twilight took a uncertain single step, then another, kicking the door closed with a single hoof. Soon he was approaching the mare in a slow predatory stalk.

Celestia's eyes widened and her breathing skipped.

Twilight smirked, “Afraid, my prey?” he spoke a low, softly mocking tone.

Celestia shuddered in a confused mix of fear and arousal, her clitoris winking again.

A few more steps and Twilight was face to vulva with the solar princess. He took a deep breath, inhaling her strong musk from the source. He felt a strange, novel sensation from his undercarriage as a monster woke.

Celestia's plot wiggled slightly in front of him.

“Hmmm,” He chuffed in amusement, “Somepony's impatient.”

Another wiggle.

He let out another chuff before starting to exhale, blowing air onto Princess Celestia's most intimate place.

The mare shuddered, her shy little clit made itself known again.

But Twilight was expecting this; before it could escape, he darted his head forward and caught the tiny little thing between his lips.

Celestia whinnied loudly and her whole body shook as she coated Twilight's face in her thick musky come.

Twilight purred, letting go of the small organ, “Somepony's tightly wound.”

He took a couple steps back and glanced downwards at the fully hardened phallus; ready to claim his first mare.

Twilight lifted his left hoof and stepped onto the bed, following it with his right, lifting his chest to straddle the princess.

Twilight stalked forward, covering the less massive mare in his bulk; his penis pressing into her dock before sliding forward along her back.

Celestia shuddered in arousal but said nothing.

He leaned down, purring like a lawnmower, and whispered in Princess Celestia's ear, “How much do you want to be mine?”

Celestia let out a breathy moan, “Twilight” she said in a tiny voice.

Twilight retreated slightly, bent his head down to the back of the mare's neck, opened his mouth and placed closed his teeth around Celestia's neck.

Celestia shuddered with a mix of fear and arousal.

Twilight bit down hard, hard enough to tear out the flesh of a mortal pony.

Celestia whinnied and] spasmed with terror, instinctively trying to push the stallion off.

But Twilight had been expecting that; he was heavier, stronger, had better leverage and had two hooves on the ground to Celestia's none. He drew on the strength of the Earth, maximized his inertia and crushed her panicked attempts to escape.

As she was held down her terror twisted itself into arousal as she was suborned by ancient traitorous instincts.

Celestia screamed in orgasm as her mind was assaulted with a maddening contradiction of sensations.

Twilight released the mare's neck, purring as he idly licked the blood from his teeth. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear in a tone that brokered no argument “Mine.”

Celestia shuddered.

Twilight withdrew from his conquered mare, his phallus sliding back along her body.

After several seconds of slow withdrawal, he ran out of mare and his member dropped without any thing to support it.

Twilight smirked and lit his horn, surrounding his lower head in telekinesis.

He leaned forward ever so slowly using magic to guide him to his target.

Then he made contact, his penis had made contact with the Princess Celestia's most intimate treasure.

“Is this what you want, princess?” He said, rubbing his head against the mare's vulva.

Celestia moaned in want.

Twilight smirked and pressed forward, his head pushing it's way in ...

Twilight recoiled in horror from the mirror, smashing into the far wall of the master bath hard enough to send spiderwebs of cracks across the crystal. A loud slapping sound emanatedfrom his erect phallus slapping against his barrel andechoed throught the small room.

He looked down at his enormous penis – even larger than he had feared – as he was overcome with disgust and self-loathing. How could he think of Princess Celestia like that?! How could he taint Equestria's pure, virginal princess with such dirty, twisted fantasies?!

Twilight laid against the wall, immobilized in a storm of emotions.

Secret Agent Sweetie 'Bon Bon' Drops nursed her third cup of coffee as she blearily gazed upon Lyra 'they're putting chemicals in the water to make the freaking frogs gay' Heartstrings.

The mare in question was blathering about a brand new theory, the exact kind of theory that she wasfamousfor. This one about how the Howl was actually a psyop by the 'glow-in-the-dark CEI ziggers' to brainwash ponies in preparation for their wolf/pony crossbreeding program that they were clearly planning.

Unfortunately, this theory involved anin depth, explicit description of the utterdegeneracy Lyra had dreamt of last night.

In the princesses' name, get a bucking therapist, Lyra. I really don't want to hear anything about a monster wolf 'knotting' you. Nor do I want to know why you have such intimate knowledge of canine anatomy.

Lyra didn't hear her roommate's silent plea and just continued talking.

Bon Bon glared at the green mare, envious of how awake the she was. She knew that Lyra had gotteneven lesssleep than she had. Where Bon Bon had been conscripted in the search due to her history as a 'retired' 'monster hunter', Lyra had spent most the night 'investigating', even after Vinyl Scratch had determined the howl to be artificial.

Honestly, if anything, learning that had made Lyra even more excited.

Hence 'CEI psyop'.

Bon Bon scoffed beneath her breath, Central Equestrian Intelligence was a farce. It was a daycare for useless noble daughters who had read far too many Rain Bond novels. Adult foals who had an excess of courage and a deficit of sense.

Everypony competent ended up either in SMILE or – unfortunately, more often – one of the noble houses' own intelligence agencies, particularly what were known as the big three.

There was House Platinum, famed for their subtlety. Every pony who went against the Founding Solar House – or even spoke of them particularly harshly – would be found dead in suspicious circumstances.

Circumstances that could never be conclusively tied to the house, or even to violence.

And then there were the endless series of coincidences that always seemed to benefit the house.

So much was their subtlety that actions of House Platinum could only be determined through inference and coincidence. As such, it was believed that House Platinum was involved in far more than what could be inferred from evidence.

Then there was House Twilight, bucking House Twilight. Some random clan of mountain unicorns who had been raised to nobility on a technicality, they were almost unknown to the general public. They were far from unknown to SMILE. Princess Celestia alone knows how such an irrelevant outcast house had managed to become one of the largest internal threats to Equestrian sovereignty.

But how they became a threat was immaterial, the fact was that they were one. Twilight lacked in subtlety compared to Platinum, but they made up for it tenfold in sheer brutality and ruthlessness. Bon Bon couldn't count the number of times that some poor agent had stumbled upon some complex that had been razed to the ground with fire hot enough to melt stone, with what little surviving the fire telling a tale of a great and terrible battle.

Of whatever the strange isolationist communities had done to offend House Twilight, no evidence remained.

And then there were the stranger things found in some of those sites; stories were told of strange unplaceable smells coming from nowhere, of places where space just wasn't quite right or dozens of other unexplainable phenomena.

Sweetie Drops had even heard of a case where a mare had been found fused into stone, without any magical residue that could explain how it happened.

Of course not all of House Twilight's activities were quitethat nefarious, they were relatively well known in law enforcement as bounty hunters and monster slayers. Although they were far too enthusiastic about such things.

Whatever information that SMILE interrogators had managed to extract from the house's captures had clearly spooked the SMILE higher ups; asSMILE had a universal 'do not engage' order applied to House Twilight operatives.

And then house had somehow managed to get one of their members in the Gryphon Senate, apparently the younger sister of theirHead of House.

While it was not technically treason for a noble house to obtain a position in a foreign government – at least if Equestria wasn't at war with the government in question – but it was extremely unusual. And it was even more unusual for gryphons to appoint a pony senator.

Even stranger, what few intelligence assets SMILE had in Gryphonia indicated that House Twilight was actively involving themselves in the gryphon's most recent civil war.

Only the most desperate or naive of pony mercenaries got themselves involved in gryphon conflicts; gryphons ate ponies.

And then there was House Hurricane, the Founding Pegasus House. While they lacked Platinum's subtlety and Twilight's brutality and were – quite frankly –significantly sloppier than either, they were brazen in a way that neither house was. Where Platinum operated in a way that was almost impossible to track and Twilight largely stuck to the margins of Equestria where law barely existed, Hurricane openly acted against their enemies in Equestria's heartland.

Even worse, the pegasus house always managed to avoid any repercussions for their actions.

It was ... infuriating.

Just three weeks ago, a SMILE agent investigating one of House Hurricane's more suspicious businesses had been found dead with her throat slit in her apartment in Manehattan; the subsequent criminal investigation into the murder had then been buried.

Sweetie Drops hadn't known the mare, but she was one of our own.

And Princess Celestia knows that SMILE had neither the marepower or the resources to openly act against a major noble house.

We're barely managing to keep the country together as it is. It's like Equestria is actively trying to rip itself to pieces.

It was common practice for SMILE agents to keep three bottles of nice champagne in case they ever manage to nail any of the three major houses on proper treason charges.

And then there were other threats.

The thestrals had recently returned. And by 'returned', Bon Bon meant that they had invaded Equestria in order to aid in the dreaded Nightmare Moon's conquest.

She honestly had no idea what Princess Celestia was thinking when she integrated the tribe's lands into Equestria as a distinct duchy sworn only to Luna. From what she heard from other SMILE agents, the thestrals had – in general – not accepted Luna as the same pony as their 'Night Mistress'. In fact, most professed – in secrecy – that they believed Luna to be some twisted Celestine trick.

But, well, Princess Celestia knows best, right?

And then there was the crystal ponies. What a nightmare. 2000 years out of date and from a militarily imperialistic city state. The first emigrants had just left and they were already causing problems wherever they went. Challenging mares to duels – or just outright stabbing them – for whatever esoteric things caused crystal ponies offence.

Were these even the same ponies who protected their nation from the biting cold of the north with a heart shaped artifact powered by love and happiness?

And then there was the external threats.

One couldn't forget the filthy changelings, impersonating good ponies and stealing their love. SMILE had been running itself ragged since the invasion, but had little to show for it. Only a hoofful of the monsters had ever been identified and captured in the two years since the invasion. And none of them had been willing to talk. SMILE had no idea the actual magnitude of the threat posed by the bugs.

Of the surroundinglegitimatenations, only Zebrica was stable enough, subtle enough, and had grievances against Equestria enough – although, Princess Celestia alone knows what those were – to engage in espionage.

Unfortunately the Zebras were actually very good at this espionage game. Their actions had always blindsided SMILE ...

“You're not listening to me at all, are you?”

Bon Bon shook her head, “I'm sorry, I'm just tired, Lyra.”

“Well, I was explaining how this is all a plot to breed a new race of wolfponies to supplant us.”

Bon Bon rolled her eyes, “Wolves can't breed with ponies, Lyra.”

“That's what they want you to think.”

“If they could, everypony alive today would be already be part wolf. And, Lyra, wolfponies don't exist.”

“What?”

“How do you think prehistoric ponies managed to domesticate their top predator?” Bon Bon waggled her eyebrows, “It's called 'Animal Husbandry' for a reason.”

“This changes things.” Lyra's eyes widened in almost religious realization as she muttered incoherently for a bit before jumping up and shouting, “Maybe this is what we were meant for!” she lifted her conspiracy board in her magic and galloped down to the basement.

Bon Bon sighed before slamming her face into the kitchen table, “Buck.”

It was a miserable ball of self loathing disguised as a pony that stepped out of Prince Twilight Sparkle's chambers.

The shower had helped a bit, and thankfully the monstrous pillar of flesh that was his penis had hidden itself away again.

But he couldn't forget the extremely vivid and deviant fantasy he had about Princess Celestia. He couldn't forget how much certain parts of him had gloried in it.

Princess Celestia was the axle upon which his overwhelming angst spun. Lust and Disgust, Joy and Misery, Pride and Self-Loathing, Rage and Hopelessness, Loyalty and Betrayal, Love and Hatred.

I don't Hate Princess Celestia, I can't Hate Princess Celestia.

Yet even as he thought those words he knew it was a lie. There was a part of him that absolutely did Hate Princess Celestia.

It was not a small part.

His mind was assaulted by barely remembered memories of humiliation, of confusion, of horrible guilt, of Pain beyond Pain.

Twilight stalked down the hallway, his hoofsteps causing rumbling and cracking in the crystal beneath him, as he idly traced the path to the castle's kitchen.

He got to the end of the hall, approaching the balcony and, without even stopping, pounced onto the railing and threw himself off.

He barely opened his wings as he fell, certainly not enough to slow his fall, and hit the ground hard, his hooves making a loud thunderous bang as they collided with the crystal floor.

Most ponies would be hurt from such a fall, but it would take more than that to trouble a Twilight. A Twilight's body was designed for efficient absorption and release of potential energy.

Most ponies would be hurt from such a fall, but it would take more than that to trouble an alicorn. Alicorns possessed a robustness entirely beyond mortal ponies.

Prince Twilight Sparkle was both.

He stood up from his landing pose – not unlike those in Spike's comic books – and stalked forward bleeding the excess tension out with every step.

Twilight paused.

He turned around and stared at the cracked floor where he had landed, then to the balcony from which he had jumped, then to the grand staircase, then back to the floor ...

Twilight's cyclical staring was broken by a low whistle.

“Whew, Sparkles, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing you Twilights do that.”

Twilight looked to the side to see the twins, identical but for manestyles – well, and Cutie Marks, but black marks on black coats didn't help much – approaching him.

As the twins approached, Shadow saw the tears in the alicorn's eyes, “Oh, buck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way.”

Twilight lifted a wing in a dismissive gesture, “It wasn't anything you said.”

“Oh, right, that's good then.”

Umbra rolled her eyes, “What my sister meansto say is: what's got you so down?”

In response to Umbra's question, Twilight broke down, babbling out the horrible, perverse things he had imagined doing to Princess Celestia.

Fifteen minutes later, Twilight finally collected enough courage to finally meet the undoubtedly judging eyes of his twin cousins.

Except their eyes weren't judging, Umbra had a soft, slightly confused expression and Shadow ...

... well, Shadow panted audibly and drooled slightly as she stared into the distance with a glazed expression.

“Is that it?” Umbra asked gently, tilting her head.

“Is that it?!” Twilight asked hysterically, “I tainted Princess Celestia's image with my depraved desires.”

“Wait, are you accusing yourself of blasphemy?” Umbra stared at Twilight like he had grown a second head, “Are you a Celestine Cultist? I thought Celestia outlawed the alicorn cults a thousand years ago.”

Twilight recoiled at the accusation, “What? Of course not. Everypony knows that Princess Celestia doesn't want to be worshipped. I wouldnever violate her wishes like that.”

Umbra stared at Twilight silently, like she didn't know how to respond to that.

“Holy buck, that was so bucking hot!”

Umbra, cuffed Shadow on the back of her head with her hoof.

“Hay, what was that for?”

“What Shadow's trying to say is that everypony has fantasies,” Umbra put a hoof over Twilight's withers, “You aren't 'wrong' or 'twisted' or 'depraved' for fantasizing about Celestia. I'm pretty sure that every stallion does that at least once, most significantly more that.”

“I don't. Have fantasies that is.”

Umbra paused, taking a second to realize what Twilight meant. “You didn't. And that's really abnormal Sparkle, you should have probably gotten it checked out. It could be indicative a deeper problem.”

“And Celestia would have been lucky to have you. If I could find a stallion to treat me like that, I could die happy.”

At that, Twilight broke out bawling.

Shadow looked to Umbra, “Hay, there's no way that could have been my fault.”

Umbra rolled her eyes, reached a hoof out and pulled her sister into the embrace with their large cousin.

Archmage Lady Twilight Aura, Captain of Eta Team examined the list levitating in front of her. The spoils of their little exercise were surprisingly numerous.

And thanks to House Twilight's Letter of Marque from the honourable King Geoffrey, it now all legally belonged to the Twilights.

From what they'd gone through so far, most of it was steel, either in ingot or blade. This was hardly surprising considering the cargo's destination.

But there were other things too. Including some things that had no business being shipped to a warzone.

Like, for example, the case of grape-wine they had just uncrated.

While Aura was far from an expert on the subject, she was pretty sure the bottles represented some relatively impressive vintage.

That if nothing else, told Aura that the intended recipient of this cargo was high ranking, likely a senator, perhaps even Senator Grackle, the rebel's pretender to the gryphon throne. A thoroughly nasty drake.

House Twilight would find a use for everything acquired today.

The ingots of steel would be graded and allocated to whatever project needs them most. One could never have enough steel.

The weapons would likely be sold to the loyalist gryphs, after all, they were forged for gryphon claws. Aura chuffed in humour, it was amusing that weapons slated for rebel talons would soon be in the grasp of loyalists.

And the grape-wine would probably be drunk, many a Twilight did like their booze.

At that moment Aura's younger sister Lady Twilight Flare lifted a bottle of wine with a impassive look on her muzzle, “Grape-wine.”

Aura smirked, “Most ponies just call it 'wine'.”

“An inferior copy of the genuine article.”

Aura rolled her eyes, “The oldest confirmed cultivation of grapes for the production of wine was in the Republican period, mushroom wine was developed in the Dark Age by the early Twilights, likely due to the difficulty of cultivating grapes in Dark Age conditions.”

“Doesn't mean it's not an inferior drink.”

Aura made a noncommittal noise, maybe House Twilight would be better of just selling the grape-wine, it'd be wasted on her members; what little thirst the Twilights had for the drink was more than sated by the couple small vineyards the house had bought several generations back.

“Are you certain you're happy with us, sister? You're not getting bored, being sidelined?” Aura glanced at Flare in concern, the mare wasn't really capable of non-lethal combat, “I could get you transferred to the front lines.”

“And if Eta Team finds something you can't handle?” Flare gave her sister a firm look, “No, you're not getting rid of me that easily.”

“If that's what you wish.”

There was a brief pause.

“Um, cousin Aura. I have some concerns.” came a voice Aura did not want to hear.

“That is 'Captain Aura' to you, Lady Swordcant.” besides Aura and Flare, Twilight Swordcant was the only Twilight in Eta Team.

She was also the member who Aura least wanted in her team.

“Sorry,” the mare said without any sincerity, “Captain Aura, I have some concerns.”

Aura raised an eyebrow, already suspecting exactly what than 'concern' might be.

Cant gave a pointed look at Flare.

Flare stared back impassively.

“Flare is my 2IC; you know what that means? It means that her authority is second only to my own. Anything that you can say to me, you can say to her.”

Cant looked at Aura, then Flare, then back, “It's about a team member.” she spoke in a hushed whisper.

Aura sighed, bucking branch Twilights, you'd think they're really Equestrians, “Let me guess, you are unhappy at your lack of seniority in this team and you are nipping at the hooves of the next up the totem pole in an attempt to climb?”

“I am a Lady of House Twilight. She's just some dishonoured commoner ranger.”

Clearly not in any way that matters, Aura grit her teeth, it's always great to know one of your subordinates is going around and digging up dirt on another, “I don't know what they teach you down in Fillydelphia, but here in House Twilight proper, this kind of underhoofed behaviour is unacceptable. The Twilight Guard is – and always has been – meritocracy. Do they have that word down in Filly?”

“Uh ...” Cant started to answer, but Aura cut her off.

“No, of course they don't.” Aura paused, “It means that Twilight or not, commoner or noble, everypony is given an equal chance to succeed, and that until you have proven yourself particularly competent – or incompetent – seniority is based on when you joined. As I recruited Sanguine to EtaTeam several days before you were assigned to me, she is your senior.”

“Sanguine Bladestorm – if that's even her real name – can't even use a radioproperly.”

“It is her real name,” The poor mare's parents were so-called 'traditionalists', of the 'hallucinogenic dream quest' tradition. Aura scoffed, “And, I'd wager that neither could you, until very recently. These ear-operated radios haven't even been in service for three years, and the Twilights of Filly couldn't have gotten their hooves on them any earlier than last year.”

Cant said nothing.

Honestly, hearing her own distant cousin connive against the unfortunate unicorn filled Aura with disgust. Almost as much disgust as she felt hearing of the many, many ponies – from parents, to former classmates, to the Royal Equestrian Ranger Corps, to the Crown – who had the gall to be shocked that a mare who had been given the name 'Sanguine Bladestorm' ended up having a Talent for violence.

As a military mare, born and bred, Aura had found the actions of RERC the most disgraceful. Fake Cutie Mark or not, they were the ones who brought a blankflank into combat; they were ultimately the ones that bore responsibility. But no, all they had given her was a court marshal for falsification of documents and a one-way airship ticket to Gryphonstone. Sent off to die a horrible death in obscurity.

And she almost had; she had been days away from being the prey for one of the gryph rebels' sick pony-hunts when Eta Team had saved her; she was the only survivor of her entire mercenary band, once 30 strong.

What was worse, is that the RERC report on the incident that had gotten the mare discharged had outright admitted that Sanguine had likely saved the lives of three of her fellow rangers in the gryph bandit attack. But that didn't matter to them because the mare had – in a moment of Talent induced hysteria – crawled into one of the bandit's disembowelled chest cavities.

It was things like this that meant that Aura couldn't help but hate Equestrians just a little bit. The Herd seems so friendly and welcoming up until somepony 'proves' herself to be 'sick' or 'wrong' or 'different'. Then she is rejected and left for dead. The Pack would never betray one of their own like that.

Aura stared at Cant with a withering glare, “I do not know why you were put on my team, but if it is to impress us, you are failing.”

Cant recoiled, at least she had the good sense to look ashamed.

Aura stared at the mare with a stern look.

“Hay, boss, look what we found.” Shouted a small blue unicorn as she galloped towards Aura, a large ingot levitated next to her in blood red magic.

Following along beside her at barely more than a trot – with her wings spread wide – was a tall, dark grey thestral mare.

Aura smirked, speak of the devil ... “What do you have there, Sanguine?” telekinetically accepting the ingot from the mare. Immediately Aura felt a weight to the metal; not a physical weight, it was actually quite light, but a mystical weight. Her eyes widened as she recognized the familiar blue tinge to the metal, “Is this ...”

Sanguine smugged, “Aye, mythril, fine, five 9's if you trust the marks.”

Aura gasped slightly, mythril was not cheap on a good day, fine mythril even more expensive. Even more, its use in high power enchantments meant that it was a highly controlled substance in Equestria; this ingot should not be in the possession of a bunch of arms smugglers going to the gryph rebels. “This smuggler caravan had to be going directly to Senator Grackle.”

The thestral mare, Lady Midnight Nocturne, smirked as she looked at the mythril bar, “Senator Grackle eez vant quite thee cock ring, yes?”

Sanguine laughed, looking between the large ingot and Midnight, “I fear you have gryphons vastly overestimated, Midnight. A gryphon's cock is a sad, ugly, twisted, little thing that pales in comparison to a stallion.”

Twilight Swordcant had a look of disgust on her face, “And, why do you know so much about gryphon ... members?”

Sanguine stared at the Twilight with a cold expression, “Because some of them get excited when they eat ponies alive.”

Cant huffed in offence, “What a horrible thing to say about a sapient species.”

The other four mares stared at her in disbelief.

“A horrible thing yes,” Aura spoke slowly, “but a true one nonetheless. What do they even teach you down in Fillydelphia? The entire reason why House Twilight is involved in Gryphonia is to eradicate the very ghastly practice Sanguine speaks of. The vile pretender to the throne Senator Grackle, the very gryph that this all ...” Aura gestured to the crates surrounding the five mares, “... was to be delivered to, would have it that 'pony-hunting' become an officially sanctioned sport in Gryphonia.” Aura stared a Cant, “He has even gone so far as to promise his would be gryphon subjects that he would send capture raids into Equestrian territory to capture prey for his sick games.”

The other four mares were silent.

“I hope I don't have to outright state how unacceptable House Twilight would find such a thing. We Twilights swore an Oath long ago, we fight and kill and die in the night so that the common pony can live in the day. Nothing gets to prey upon our ponies while even a single Twilight still draws breath. Anything that tries ... will ... be ... destroyed.” Aura was breathing heavy and her mane was starting to smoke.

Flare sauntered over and grabbed a lock of her sister's mane in her hoof, pulling it into the other mare's vision.

Aura looked at the smoking end of her own mane for a second before taking several slow, deep breaths, “Thank you sister.” she paused, “So this ...” Aura hefted the mythril bar slightly, “... had finally proven outright that – as we have long suspected – Grackle is being aided by some unknown Equestrian party. Mythril is far too valuable and far too controlled for any of the chucklebucks in this smuggler's posse to have acquired themselves. This has to come from some major party, likely a noble house, but we can't rule out some organ of the Equestrian government itself.

But, just as interesting as the origin of this mythril is its destined use. House Twilight has been hearing whispers that Grackle had found the Mythril Crown – some ancient crown famously worn be a handful of gryphon high kings and emperors, thought to be destroyed a thousand years ago – for a about the last month, but with this conspicuous bit of mythril being smuggled into Gryphonia, it seems likely that Grackle has found some unscrupulous mythsmith to make a forgery.

If my presumption is correct – and it usually is – then we've struck a massive blow against the filthy rebel cause, today. Even a major noble house like Platinum or Hurricane – curse their vile name – would balk at sending another ingot of mythril so soon after the last had been intercepted. So I figure that Grackle won't be getting his pretty crown very soon at all.”

“'Ah, az I said ...” Midnight lifted her wings to surround her head like a crown, “eez vor cock ring.”

That got a number of laughs out of the other mares, even Flare made a slight smile.

Aura shook her head with a smile, “I'd advise you against calling a male gryphon a 'cock' or 'rooster' unless you want to aggravate him. The proper term is actually 'drake'.”

“Like a dragon?”

“Oh, stars no, like a duck. Don't ever call a dragon a drake. They tend to object to the term, violently.”

There was a brief silence.

Sanguine trotted over to Flare seeing the bottle in her orange magic, “Is that 'Le Roi de Mane'?” Sanguine exclaimed as she stared at the bottle, “That shit's like ... a thousand bits or something per bottle.”

Aura was taken aback, “Ponies pay a thousand bits for a single bottle of wine?!” She looked at Flare in question.

Flare, who was leaning upright against a crate, looked back and shrugged her shoulders.

Aura shook her head, “Bucking nobles. More bits than sense.” Aura lit her horn and took the bottle from Flare and levitated it over to Sanguine, “Here, you can have this.”

Sanguine's eyes widened, “Really?!”

Aura gave a small nod to the mare.

“Oh, thank you so much, Captain Aura.” she accepted the bottle of wine with her red magic and reared back to hug the bottle with her forehooves, “I love you so much Le Roi de Mane.”

“I love you too, Sanguine Bladestorm.” replied the bottle of wine.

“Wut?”

Suddenly there was an amber flash and the small blue unicorn was crushed under the improbably thicc flank of a white pegasus mare with a ... sausage? ... Cutie Mark. That's an odd choice.

Aura looked at the white mare then the recently opened crate, “Dora, how?”

“I am stealf.” replied the mare.

Aura rolled her eyes and sighed, “Okay, Princess Lepidoptera, that's enough, get off her.”

“Okay ...” said the disguised changeling sadly before rolling off the smaller mare and flashing to her true form, a black and amber changeling royal who was missing the holes that ponies typically associated with changelings.

“Aaaaagh, by Princess Celestia's thunderous flanks, I got mare juice in my mouth!”

“Hmmm, yes, thee Tyrant Sun eez quite heavy. Ill suited for combat, yes.”

Aura smiled softly watching Sanguine drag her tongue against the ground as Dora pestered her about what was 'wrong' about her 'mare juice'.

=Eta Actual, please be advised, there is a hydra approaching from West North West. I would deal with it myself, but, well, dart gun, over.=

Aura flicked her ear, “Heard and understood, Eta Overwatch, we will deal with the hydra, out.” She looked over to Flare, “You up for a hydra?”

“Of course.”

Aura gestured with her head.

Flare wasted no time bolting north, wings of flame spreading from her back as she took off and disappeared in a blast of flame.

There was a couple moments of silence before the four mares and one changeling princess were treated to the distant sounds of explosive combat, maniacal laughter and singing.

Aura sighed, “Well, now that that is handled,” she levitated another bottle of wine to Sanguine.

The small blue mare eyed the bottle with suspicion, “Dora, where are Thing 1 and Thing 2.”

“My praetorians are guarding the prisoners, of course.”

Sanguine let out a breath and took the bottle in her magic, although she still held it slightly distant from her body.

Aura laughed under her breath, “Now, Lady Midnight, Princess Lepidoptera, I have some concerns. Both of your presence on this team representssome degree of danger to House Twilight.” Aura turned to the thestral, “Midnight, I'm going to have to ask you to stop referring to Princess Celestia as the 'Tyrant Sun'”

“Vhy? Seen thee fresco, yes. Twilight think no better ov Tyrant Sun than Thestralis.”

Aura placed her hoof on her brow and sighed. “Maybe, maybe not, yet you don't see me going around calling Equestria's God Princess a 'tyrant'. If you say such things around the wrong pony, you're going to get yourself investigated for lese majeste and possibly even treason.”

“Eet is not 'treason', owe no loyalty to 'Celestia'.”

“Okay, better. But wherever your personal loyalties lay, Celestia is still a Sovereign Princess.” Aura paused, “You can still use the term, 'Night Mistress' however, as most ponies are going to assume you mean Princess Luna.”

“Zis 'Princess Luna' eez not Night Mistress, she is Celestine plot to replace Night Mistress.”

“They will assume wrongly, and you will let them do so. Understood.” Aura glared at the mare.

The thestral withered under the glare, “Yes,”

Aura turned to the changeling, “Now, Princess Lepidoptera, you have to understand that, officially, Equestria is at war with changelings as a species.”

“That's stupid, mother's hive had no part in the idiot queen's invasion.”

Aura scoffed, “Of course it's stupid, this is Equestria we're talking about. The 'Royal Guard' that 'protects' Canterlot isactually Princess Celestia's harem, and its members spend far more time on studding contracts than any training of military value. It's why they were so useless during the changeling invasion.”

“Vhat eez studding?”

Aura let out a dark laugh, “Prostitution with extra steps.”

“Eh?”

Aura sighed, “You know how there are many more mares than stallion?”

“Of course.”

“Just out of curiosity, how exactly do the thestrals deal with this fact.”

“Eet eez thee duty vor stallions, take many mares, have many voals. Eet vas thee last Command ov thee Night Mistress. To be 'Vruitvul and Multiply' een preparation vor her return.”

“Huh, really?”

“Vell ... vas more 'Nightsong, I name you Lord Nocturne, do not wait vor me, I vill be gone so many years. Have many voals, I be disappointed iv your line die out bevore my return', but vee got zee message.”

“'Nightsong Nocturne' huh, I guess he would be the progenitor of your house, then, Midnight.”

Midnight puffed out her chest, “He vas genius tactician, eet vas him who built thee stratagems that led uz to victory against the Celestine menace in thee Var vor thee Night.”

Huh, 'the War for the Night', I guess it makes sense that the other side would have their own name for it. “We Twilights also have plural marriages, but here's the thing, Equestrians don't. Each stallion marries a single mare.”

The thestral looked shocked at that, “Vhat?! Vhat about all zee mares who not get stallion?”

“That is where studding comes in. Mares without a stallion of their own would need to hire a stallion to impregnate her, a 'stud', like they're bucking dogs.”

Midnight scowled in disgust.

“But don't larvae come out wrong and holey if they are made without love? That's what mother says.”

Huh, that explains a few things, “'Foals', Dora, baby ponies are called 'foals'. And no, that's just lings, ponies don't have the same physiological dependence on love. Conception is a purely physical thing for us; well, physical and magical, but the feelings of the parents at time of conception have no bearing on the health of the foal. That said, the emotional needs of ponies start after their birth, so being raised without fathers certainly isn't emotionally healthy.”

“Vhat, but they have fathers?”

“Not legally. It's actually legally mandated that every studding contract includes a clause forfeiting all parental rights of the stud, a mare isn't allowed to even put the name of the stud on her foal's birth certificate, just the words 'contract stud'. Even more, any attempt by the stud to contact any of his 'sired' foals is extremely taboo, if not borderline illegal.”

Dora was horrified, “They would steal a father's love for his children?! To changelings, such love is sacrosanct. Why would they do that?”

“Uh ... I actually don't know why, we Twilights have never participated in that institution; it's always just been a weird and vile thing Equestrians do as far as we're concerned. I'm sure there's a few books in one of our libraries written by some Twilight who actually cared about the 'why' of it, though. I can help you find them when we get back to the manor.”

Dora looked away, “I'm not sure I want to know ...”

Aura nodded, “A wise decision as far as I'm concerned. It's often best not to stare into the abyss, it has a habit of staring right back.” Aura grimaced, “And the entire thing somehow gets worse actually. A couple hundred year ago, Equestria – in it's infinite wisdom – decided to rescind most of the restrictions on studding. Now a mare can hire a 'stud' when she's not in heat or even on contraception.”

“Heat? Contraception?”

Right, changeling, “Contraception a catchall term for anything that prevents a mare from entering heat or becoming pregnant: spells, devices, pharmaceuticals. And heat – or more properly oestrus – is the period of time that a mare is capable of producing foals, intercourse outside of oestrus cannot make foals.”

“We mares go kinda crazy in heat.”

“Thank you, Sanguine.”

“Like, 'I need to get a dick in me right now, at any cost', crazy.”

“That's enough, Sanguine.”

Dora stared into the distance in confusion, “But ...”

Aura smirked, “Kind of defeats the entire purpose, right? I don't quite understand the motive.” Aura lied, as much as she hated to admit it, she did understand the motive, completely. There was a small, dark part of her that wished, desperately, that she could just hire a stud and get just a modicum of companionship for a night; with how disastrous her past attempts at romance were, the prospect of a stallion that can't say no or run away in terror held a dark allure to the mare. Chastity is a Virtue, Aura, Chastity is a Virtue. “But I have it on good authority that intercourse is a very pleasurable activity.”

Dora rolled her eyes, “I know sex is good, mother was generous with her memories. But why would anyl ... anypony not want eg ... foals?”

Hmm, hereditary memory, or maybe telepathy? Interesting, this needs further study. “Foals are a bit more significant an investment of effort for ponies than ... eggs? ...”

Dora nodded.

“... than eggs are for changelings. A single pregnancy lasts almost a year, can be very hard on the mare and birth is very painful and very taxing. Some mares don't survive the process. And then after birth, things don't get much easier, foals are both completely helpless and an utter nightmare. Especially unicorn foals who have a tendency to emit a lot of wild magic. And well ...” Aura paused, “... Dora, you're three years old correct?”

“I'm almost four.” the changeling princess stated proudly.

The other three mares stared at Dora in shock.

“And you're considered an adult as far as changelings are concerned?”

Dora tilted her head back and forth in a so-so motion, “I'm a princess, I won't start becoming a queen until I'm mated, but if I was still a noble cast – or any other cast but royal – I'd be a full adult.” She fluttered her wings.

“Well, a pony doesn't get to that level of maturity until she's sixteen or so. Or even older.”

“Oh, wow, that's a long time.” Dora looked around to the four mares, “You're all really old.”

Aura chuckled, “Isn't your mother hundreds of years old?”

“Yeah, but mother is mother.”

Aura paused, “You said you used to be a noble?”

Dora nodded, “Yep, I remember it like yesterday. There was I, Lepidoptera, noble nymph changeling sitting in the creche and mother showed up and started talking about these weird creatures that looked like ponies but tasted like wolf who were waging war on the idiot queen. She said that they had contacted her and she thought they could be friends and asked me if I wanted to be a princess. And I said 'of course I want to be a princess', I mean it's like everyling's dream, to have your own hive, your own children.”

I guess changelings don't need to breath, I wonder how that works.

“And then a couple days in the metamorphosis pod and I'm a royal nymph – which makes sense, nobles are almost royals – and then several months later I'm a princess. And then I went to your Manor, it was so exiting, so many new ponies and wolves to meet and to taste. And then you said you had some open places on your Eta Team, and i thought, that sounds so fun. So here I am.”

Aura looked at the excitable changeling. She had not known that Dora had originally been a noble, the fact that Queen Odonata had gone out of her way to promote the ling before sending her to foster with House Twilight was very notable. From what the mare understood of changeling castes, nobles could do anything a princess could do, anything – that is –except metamorphose into a queen and begin laying eggs.

Dora was not sent to House Twilight merely to foster, she had been sent to House Twilight to marry. To marry and mate and start a new hive. Heh, it took House Twilight meeting a completely different species to finally have our first prospect of a political marriage.

Aura started idly wondering which stallions in House Twilight might make a good match for the bug-mare before shaking her head. The last thing poor Dora deserved was Aura's 'help' in matters of romance, stars know that she was useless at the subject. She might even transmit her 'curse' to the ling.

“So, Dora, as I was saying, as a changeling, you are – as stupid as it is – technically an 'Enemy of the Crown'. So when you are in public, you will have to be very careful about not doing anything that might tip anypony off. Understand?”

Dora frowned for a second but then gave a solemn nod, “I understand.”

“Good, now it isn't the end of the world if you're discovered, and, worst come to worst, as a high noble house, House Twilight has a certain latitude when it comes to the law. The resulting treason charges would be unlikely to stick, especially as we are the only Equestrian institution to actually be acting against the 'changeling threat' in any way, bucking useless Equestrians.” That last bit was muttered under her breath, “That said, House Twilight would prefer to avoid any potential treason charges if at all possible. You have full infiltrator training, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then you know how to go to ground if you're discovered?”

“Yes”

“Okay, we have assets, safehouses and/or operatives in most major cities, so if you are ever compromised you shouldn't have far to go before you're safe. Once we get back to the Manor, I will give you a good rundown of house Twilight's procedures for such an event.”

Sanguine tilted her head, “Isn't this kind of thing best covered before we go into the field?”

Aura tilted her head, “Maybe, but House Twilight believes that all our trainees should be exposed to combat early and often. All four of you have existing prior training, this mission was chosen for you because it was low risk and well ...”

A moment passed before Flare trotted into vision with a slight smile on her muzzle.

I have you down to a science sister. “Have fun, Flare?”

Flare only grunted in reply, but it was a happy grunt.

“The Hydra?”

Flare nodded as her smile took on the slightest degree of smugness

“...and well that mare,” Aura waved at her sister, “just killed a Hydra in single combat. Trust me, you're in good hooves with us.”

“I'm sorry, bucking what?” Sanguine shouted in disbelief. “The rangers have lost entire companies in hydra attacks! They're highly magic resistant, can heal from almost anything and have a horrible corrosive venom that can be sprayed like a breath weapon.”

Flare snorted contemptuously.

Aura waved a hoof, “I'll show you the corpse in a bit. We'll have to load it into the teleport array anyways ... don't want to let it go to waste. But as I was saying, this mission does not mean that your training is over, your training is just beginning. While I can't promise that any of you will ever be able to one v one a hydra like my sister here, House Twilight takes pride in making sure that our soldiers and operatives become the best them they can be. Each one of you is full of potential and both I and my sister eagerly await helping you realize that potential.”

Eventually Twilight Sparkle's crying tapered off. He hated how emotionally incontinent he now was.

“So, um, Sparkle, not to pry, but what's got you so worked up this time.”

“My penis's big.”

Umbra blinked, “Uh, what? I'm going to need a lot more context.”

In response Twilight focused on a muscle that he had only recently discovered and dropped his entire phallus out of its sheath.

Umbra averted her eyes, “Oh stars, Sparkle, what are you doing?”

Shadow lowered herself to examine the flaccid member and let out a low whistle, “Wow, Sparkles, you weren't joking; that is a big penis. A regular marebreaker.”

Despite himself, Twilight let out a dark laugh, “Yeah, a real marebreaker.”

Shadow paused, coming to the realization that the term was somewhat more literal in this case. “Wow, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way.”

“I did.”

There was a brief pause.

“Honestly, Sparkles, I have no idea what to even say. How is a mare even supposed to comfort her stallion cousin when he's self-conscious about his big ... fat ... cock?”

“Shadow!” Umbra shouted in outrage.

It was tense for a moment then the absurdity of the situation caught up to Twilight and he started laughing, quietly at first but getting louder over time.

Umbra backed away from the stallion, concerned at this development.

Eventually Twilight's laughing petered out, and he unstably stood up on his hooves, “Thank you Shadow, I needed that.” Twilight reached out a wing and patted Shadow on the withers.

Shadow, who was in the process of standing up, was sent to the ground by the heavy wing-pat.

“Well, what's for breakfast?” Twilight asked as he padded out of the room towards the kitchen.

Umbra stared at Shadow with a look of confusion, offended that Shadow's idiotic question had actually helped. “How?”

Shadow smugged at Umbra as she picked herself up off the ground with a groan, “Git good, scrub.”

Umbra scowled.

“Oh, and Sparkle, you seem to be dragging something. You should probably put that away.”

Twilight paused, realizing that he felt cold along the side of an appendage that his mind still wasn't sure where to place. He tightened a still mostly unfamiliar muscle resulting in an uncomfortable slurping sound and one of the strangest sensation he had ever experienced as his member went back into hiding.

Shadow, still smirking at her sister, wasn't looking where she was going and stepped her hoof into a slick trail of slime, sending her sprawling as her sole grounded forehoof slipped out from underneath her.

Umbra snickered at Shadow.

“Buck you.” Shadow bit her hoof at Umbra, tasting something that absolutely wasn't dirt.

A moment passed before Shadow realized what precisely she had just put in her mouth and started gagging and sputtering.

Umbra howled with laughter.

Several minutes and a couple cleaning spells later, three ponies trotted into the kitchen where Spike already had the table loaded with towers of pancakes.

Spike looked up from the table, “Oh, Twilight, are you feeling better today?”

“Yes, Spike, I think I am.”

Spike looked to the twins,

Umbra gave a grim shake of her head.

Shadow went walleyed and spun a hoof in a circle around her head.

Umbra hit Shadow with a hoof.

“Well, I'm glad to hear that,” Spike said hesitantly, “You hungry?”

“Famished,” Twilight stated, barely even sitting down before levitating an entire plate-sized pancake directly into his mouth. And then he grabbed another, and another, and another.

Soon, the alicorn had stuffed an entire pony's weight of breakfast patisserie down his nearly insatiable gullet.

“So, uh, Twilight. Now that this ...” Spike gestured at the stallion, “... is permanent, when are you going to tell them?”

“Tell who?”

“Your friends.”

“Oh,” Twilight froze, he had not yet considered that he would need to inform his friends of his change in circumstances.

How would they react? Would they no longer want to be friends with him? After all, he wasn't the mare that they had become friends with anymore. It was typically considered improper for a stallion to have such a close platonic bond with mares. Would any of his friends decide to distance themselves because of public stigma?

Even worse, he was now a very attractive stallion and his five friends were very much red-blooded mares.

Yes, even Fluttershy.

Expecially Fluttershy.

Twilight smiled remembering the last time that Rainbow managed to get enough cider and salt into the mare to get her properly drunk. It had been enlightening. And the things she had said to Applejack about the mare's elder brother had been shocking. Although, Rainbow and Pinkie had certainly found it hilarious.

Of course, Applejack hadn't found it quite so funny, and the two mares 'went a tusslin''. Something that had resulted in the normally demure pegasus suplexing the stockier earth mare. Rainbow had almost died laughing.

All this was to say, that Twilight was expecting that there would be a significant amount of sexual tension between him and his friends. And ... well ... all his Friendship studies had indicated that such a thing was bad. It could lead to feelings of jealousy and envy that could rip a friend group apart. Not to mention what could happen if he actually ended in a sexual relationship with one or more of them.

“Um, Sparkle, I don't mean to rush you, but the Spring Holiday starts in three days.”

Twilight looked a Umbra in confusion for a few seconds.

“Heat week, Sparkles, heat week.” Shadow clarifies.

Twilight's eyes widened. He had completely forgotten about oestrus, heat, breeding season. The one time of year – baring magical intervention – where mares were fertile, ovulating, able to be impregnated. Apparently, it was also a period of vastly increased libido and desire in most mares. That latter part Twilight had never actually experienced, only the itching and increased body temperature.

And then there were the pheromones, designed to ready stallions for said impregnation. The effect seemed to be much more subdued than a mare's heat, but there were stories of stallions loosing themselves for a period, of the mythical rut.

Suffice to say, it would not be a period during which it would be prudent for the newly made stallion to visit his friends, who just so happened to be mares.

Unfortunately, the term 'heat week', while not inaccurate, is misleading. While each individual mare went into oestrus for a period from 3 to 9 days, mares didn't all go into heat at the same time. As a result the Spring Holiday encompassed the full four weeks during which most mares went through heat. Four weeks where walking the streets of the Ponyville was considered neither safe nor decent for any fertile stallion.

Once again Twilight found himself wishing he was still in Canterlot. There were many ways to mitigate the worst of the symptoms of oestrus: spell, medication, potion, even meditation. Stallions could walk the streets of Canterlot with minimal danger, even during the Spring Holiday.

But Ponyville was an earth pony town, and earth ponies were highly suspicious of magic and anything else they deem 'unnatural'. Contraceptives in particular were scorned, a throwback to ancient earth pony Fertility worship. Even moon tea was looked upon with suspicion and mistrust, and it was millennia old.

In all honesty, all Twilight wanted to do is to run away to his library for the next month. Like he had often as a young filly. When the world, or the ponies in it, stopped making sense, the library had become Twilight's refuge. Books didn't judge, books didn't threaten, books didn't punish, and if a book didn't make sense, that was just because you lacked the requisite context. Context that existed in other books.

Unfortunately, that just wasn't an option. Twilight Sparkle was, unfortunately, a very important pony. He had responsibilities, both to his fief and to the Realm.

Even more, he had friends. Friends that just wouldn't let him disappear for an entire month. Friends who would barge into his library out of concern. Friends who were mares and therefor would have an unacceptably high chance of being in oestrus when they did. Especially considering how Twilight had taken to helping them with spells during the last four oestrus seasons. Well, most of them, at least. Applejack had never been a fan of magic in the best of days and had harshly rebuked Twilight when the mare had broached the topic.

And of course, introducing himself during the holiday was just asking for trouble.

Nor would he feel comfortable informing his friends indirectly, through a letter or intermediary.

No, there was only one option that, while suboptimal, was viable.

“Okay, we're going out today.”

Shadow accidentally inhaled her bite of pancake and started coughing.

Umbra gave the stallion a cautious look, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm not sure. But I don't really get anything by waiting, do I?”

The twins glanced at each other in concern.

Next Chapter: Chapter 4: Revelations Estimated time remaining: 54 Minutes