Slateshore Keep

If looks could kill, Laird Highpine hoped his was not quite so powerful. He didn't want the stallion in front of him to die, at least not straight away. Rather, he wanted him to shrivel up and suffer a slow and miserable cessation of existence, brought about by his very force of will. Sadly, the colt stayed standing.

"Ye can tell yer Count that I don't much care for his presumptions," he snarled, "mah business is mine alone."

"When you strike against the Crown, it is the business of the whole Order," the emissary replied, his tone as frosty as his coat, almost perfectly white save for its ice blue tinge. "Count Iceheart is not yet ready to make war."

Highpine regarded him contemptuously. Iceheart presumed too much influence. The old Reignssian had always been too slow to act for his liking. His family had done a good job reminding their region that the Crown was set against them, but the might of Stalliongrad would be worthless if the Count didn't mobilise it.

"And when will he be ready?" The Laird resisted the urge to spit. "Iceheart won't live to see Canterlot fall if he holds out much longer, and Ah know he has his priorities straight. Reignssia has suffered more than most places under Celestia's tyranny. Three of the Elements would be more'n enough tae secure the capital, so tell me why I shouldn't seize them?"

The envoy, Captain Frost Bite, blinked his black eyes. Go on, Highpine thought, argue. Most of the Commanders agreed that three Elements would be as useless as none without ponies to wield them, but Celestia had found six barely grown mares able to use them as soon as they were needed. Iceheart was one of those least supportive of the procurement of the artifacts for the Order's purposes, so Highpine hoped his lackey might protest. He needed a new target for his ire, his rage still not having exhausted itself two weeks after the Mistrider had crawled back into Hockfall, minus half its crew and without a single royalist head to show for it. Sadly, Frost Bite had better sense than he'd hoped.

"The Elements of Harmony would undoubtedly be of use to our Order, but this attack will put Canterlot on edge," the envoy replied, calmly. "While it may have suited you purposes to attempt to seize the Elements whilst they were in your area of influence, your failure to do so suggests that such a move was a mistake. Giving chase was an even bigger one. Dr. Sparkle is not to be underestimated." The Laird bit his tongue this time. Not because Frost Bite was right, of course, or the Count who'd told him to say as such, but rather in the hope that the less he talked, the sooner the irritating little colt would be gone.

"The Count wishes to cordially invite you and as many other Commanders as can attend to a summit. He believes he has found a way by which we can plausibly coordinate our efforts and strike against the Princesses now." The stallion was Reignssian, but his accent was clipped and controlled. His family had been in the order for generations, Highpine knew, and he was loyal... to Count Iceheart. The Fettish Laird didn't trust him in the slightest.

"Who else has agreed to attend?" The other Commanders were constantly scheming to try and get their fellow Ordermen behind their plans. Highpine didn't fancy making the trek all the way to Stalliongrad to be the only target of Iceheart's pitch.

"Duke Tagliatelle of Neighples and the High Priestess of the Temple of War," Frost Bite answered.

"Charlatans both!" a voice exclaimed. Highpine's eyes snapped from the emissary to glance down the hall. Slateshore Keep's throne room was a short one, and none too grand. Only a few trusted ponies attended Frost Bite's audience - Highpine's trusted adviser, Thistledown, his Guard Commander Rubble (his sudden promotion had helped him quickly get over his brother Boulder's unexpected death) and, for reasons unknown, his own idiotic son, Needlebottom.

"Tagliatelle means to take father's throne for himself," he complained with a petulant hoof stamp, "and the High Priestess will not move on Canterlot without her beloved Master restored."

Frost Bite took in a sharp, shocked breath. "He is Master of all of us-"

"Enough!" High Pine snapped. "Needle, out. I sit the Evergreen Throne, not ye. Until Ah'm in my grave 'tis my right and mine alone to make decisions in this hall. Do ye hear?"

"Yes, father," the fool replied, sullenly, and slunk out. He didn't have far to go. The hall wasn't even fifteen strides in length.

My son is right, Highpine admitted, grudgingly. The Duke of Neighples wishes to rule once Celestia is disposed, and the Ichor Order care more about the dead Master than finishing what he started. The Laird of Slateshore didn't truly understand those who hoped to raise the alicorn from death. All anypony knew of him was that he was a murderous madman Tartarus-bent on beating the life from Princess Celestia's body. I'd happily finish his work, but anypony who hopes to restore him is mad. What would he turn on once the Princesses are dead? Besides, we aren't even sure if we found his resting place. How can ye resurrect a creature when ye don't have his body?

When the dull wooden doors slammed shut, Highpine resumed. "Stupid as my son may be, he has a point. Iceheart has been trying to gain influence over me since I ascended to the Evergreen Throne." Not that that meant much - he was still only Laird of Slateshore, officially. Nopony but his own common folk knelt at his hooves, even if his family had cowed the rest of the High Fets into their service. "I have no love fer the Count of Neighples, and I don't believe that the Priestess will support any plan that doesn't involve some sort of necromancy or other mad ritual. In fact, I don't know if I can accept she's even agreed to go. If Iceheart wants tae drag me into his schemes, he should at least make the effort to come tae me himself. I'm nae going to Stalliongrad and back for nae purpose."

"The summit will not be held in Stalliongrad."

Laird Highpine leaned so far forwards on his throne he almost fell off. Recovering, he glanced to his allies - Thistledown was giving him a curious, interested look, while Rubble was merely confused. The ruler of Slateshore turned back to the emissary, who was smirking. He knew that simple fact had him, the Laird's curiosity was more than piqued, but Highpine didn't care. Iceheart almost never left Stalliongrad, and if he was abroad then the Laird wanted to know why.

"If not," he asked, ensnared, "then where?"

Cam Hall

"So, Rarity." Princess Cadence smiled at her as she stirred sugar into her tea. "Do I call you an actress now, or are you still a dressmaker, truly?"

"Hmm." Rarity lifted her own cup with her magic, taking a moment to appreciate the fine china, and took a delicate sip. The tea was hot, but not to the point of burning her tongue - just the right temperature for drinking. "I never meant to become an actress, when you think about it, and I never planned to continue with it. It was only because of - because of what happened that I ended up in theatre in the first place. If you were to ask me, I suppose I'd say I'm an artist, in the broader sense."

"Of course." Cadence also took a drink, smile widening as she set the teacup back down. "Such a simple drink, but refreshing, don't you agree?"

"Quite." Rarity's own face turned up. I'll admit to no longer falling for the same trappings as I used to, but I can always find appreciation for the more refined things in life - especially after weeks spent slogging through a swamp.

"I don't suppose you would mind telling me about the accident?"

The face fell again. Rarity met the Princess' eyes, and found them expectant. "Why?"

"I'm interested," said the pink alicorn. "I was traveling when the story broke, so I never heard quite what happened."

Rarity looked uncomfortable for a moment then, and glanced away. They were sat in a parlour upstairs in the stately home, small but comfortably furnished. The sofa and armchairs shared a floral pattern that couldn't quite be called garish, the rug was a simple light shade of red, almost pink, the walls an inoffensive cream. Outside the room was quiet, and she knew the others were likely downstairs. So they shouldn't hear.

"I don't particularly like talking about it," she admitted, "but I may as well. Everypony else knows more or less, after all." Cadence nodded respectfully. "I was in the Palace Theatre, in Canterlot, making the final adjustments to some of the costumes. Several of the mares needed mourning gowns for the funeral scene, and dresses for the officers' ball. I was flattered when they asked me to do it. Truth be told, if it weren't for my work at the wedding, Curtain Call would probably have never heard of me to ask," she said, bashfully. "I supposed I have to thank you-"

"For what?" Cadence chuckled. "Getting married? It was Aunt Celestia's idea to invite you and your friends to help out."

"Yes, well, of course!" Rarity blushed. "I only meant-"

"I'm teasing, Rarity," the Princess said softly. The white unicorn managed to smile again, the pink flush fading.

"Of course," she said again. "Well..." It took her a little while to get back into the flow, but she persevered. Cadence seemed genuinely interested in her tale. "I was coming into the auditorium to speak to the play's director, Curtain Call. I can't quite remember why, I forgot when - well, you know how the Mare is a unicorn?" Cadence nodded. "During the third act, her lover Westerly saves her from certain death between the two armies. Westerly Winds is, of course, a pegasus, and he flies her away, but..."

"Pegasi don't normally fly on stage," the Princess finished. Wire harnesses made actors' movements easier to coordinate than actual wing movements.

"Exactly. Both Lucinda Limelight and Spot Light, the actor who played Westerly, had harnesses, and they were rehearsing the scene as I entered. But - w-when Lucinda lifted from the ground..." Rarity shuddered. "Something snapped, when she was some way up already. Spot was fine, he's a pegasus anyway, so he flew away, but Lucinda fell to the floor. Stage floors are hard," she added, "and she landed badly."

"How badly?"

"I... It was... It was awful." Rarity grimaced. "She fell... She landed on her front, face first," she admitted, and Cadence gave a sympathetic wince. "She broke two of the vertebrae in her neck, and suffered breaks in several places in her forelegs. And... That's not all, I don't think, but I don't particularly like to think of it. It was just horrible to watch."

"I can understand that," Cadence said, sympathetically. "Lucinda Limelight is a wonderful actress. I was so sad when I heard the news."

"It was awful." Rarity stared into the depths of her half-empty teacup, trying to block out the memories. "I went with Curtain Call to the emergency room. There was only perhaps a week before the play opened, and Lucinda Limelight had no understudy. There had been one, but she left for another role with another company." A purple strand of mane dropped into her vision, and she brushed it aside. It was smooth and sleek again, free of the filth that had plagued her for weeks.

"When he told me he had no idea what to do I foolishly mentioned that I studied The Mare of the Eastern Front in high school - the play, not the book - and I'd been looking back over the script while I worked on the costumes. He was desperate at that point, so he gave me an audition, talked to the rest of the cast..."

She gave a happy shrug. "Everything came together. I managed to get help from my friend Lanerya to finish work on the costumes. The opening night was well received enough. It really wasn't a showstopper or anything too special but the critics were surprisingly polite. That's it, I suppose," she finished, lamely. "It all happened rather quickly, if truth be told."

"Surprisingly polite?" Cadence frowned at her across the low table. "I heard it got rave reviews..."

"By the time we reached Londock - we were on tour, remember, ten venues across Equestria - we had all got a much better grip on things. Opening night in Canterlot was average, but that night we got a standing ovation..." Rarity couldn't help but grin at the memory, but she hid it guiltily in her teacup. "With a special mention in the Guardian for the 'new rising star' who 'saved the production' after Lucinda's accident." The princess' gentle smile broadened at the news, but it was still tinged with sadness.

"I'm so happy for you, Rarity," she said, "but... I suppose I'm glad you didn't much want to talk about it. What happened to Lucinda was terrible."

"I know," Rarity sighed. When the accident happened, it had been anything but an opportunity to her. It was a tragedy, many of the cast had been in tears afterwards, the stage technician who had been overseeing the wires had gone into shock. "But it's all in the past now. Lucinda Limelight has moved on and so should I."

"And so you are." Cadence nodded to the window. "You've never been further east than Londock before, have you?"

"No," Rarity answered, shaking her head. "I haven't."

"You should look forward to it. This may not be a sightseeing trip you're on," the princess reminded her, "but you're a cultured mare. Take time to appreciate the journey. The markets of Mareakesh are a far cry from the stage lights of Canterlot and Londock. If the fate of the world was in my hooves I still wouldn't miss a chance to see them," she said, but with an amused smile.

Twilight was right, Rarity thought as she smiled too. Cadence is a fantastic listener. It had been Twilight's suggestion that they share tea. The others were still all downstairs, she knew, though she doubted they'd be doing much more than resting. Perhaps Twilight had found a book from Cadence's collection to read, or her and Applejack were playing with Princess Songbird, but she doubted she was missing much.

"Ah," she sighed happily as she finished her cup, "it does feel good to finally open up about it, if I'm honest."

Cadence seemed pleased by that. "A problem shared is a problem halved, my grandmother always used to say."

"That depends on who you share it with," Rarity replied, grimacing. "Pinkie Pie has been known to quadruple problems shared with her. Her mouth will just run away with her, and... Well, she is who she is, so who am I to complain?" She smiled, and the princess smiled back. "She's as kind a friend as anypony could hope for, and she has a kind of integrity that's rare these days. I know I could trust her with anything, even if I wouldn't trust myself."

"We haven't met as often as I'd like, but I really got that feeling from her too." Cadence took the teapot and refilled their cups. "You're a good pony, Rarity," she said. "I'm really honoured to know you - but there's one last thing I'd like to ask you about."

Something in her tone made Rarity wary. "What would that be?" she said, slowly.

"What happened at the Helping Hooves Charity Ball?"

"Nothing!" Rarity exclaimed. "I - I'm sorry. But it's really nothing that anypony needs to know about. It happened, and it's over and done with."

"You have to face up to these things, Rarity, or they're always going to haunt you. Think about Lucinda Limelight," the Princess urged, "the accident was in the past, but she's better now. It's nothing to shy away from."

"This is different," Rarity mumbled, "it still hurts."

"It doesn't have to hurt for much longer."

Cadence didn't push her any further. They sat together in what was almost a companionable silence, though the unicorn mare looked distinctly uncomfortable, the sudden shift in subject unnerving her. The clock on the wall chimed eleven o'clock with a gentle chorus of bells.

"I went to the Ball on my own," the dressmaker said at last. "It was to be a networking opportunity. I wasn't making that much money at the time; a lone, relatively unknown fashionista in the capital will be lucky to put bread and board together and still be able to afford materials. I wasn't doing that badly, but even the bit of fame I garnered after the wedding wasn't enough to simply push my way in to the Canterlot market. The ticket was a risk, but I hoped I'd find a pony there willing to help me push my line."

The teacup rattled in its saucer, amber liquid slopping out over the side, and Rarity realised her hoof was shaking with anger. "A hundred and twenty bits," she hissed, "and they sat me at a table with Lord Goldbanks. And he wouldn't stop going on about how things like the Hospice were a drain on society."

Cadence gasped. "That's just awful."

"Everypony else at the table laughed it all up. When the conceited cretin finally went to the bathroom, though, they started talking about how dreadful he was, and I realised that whether or not they cared about the Hospice, or the little foals they care for, they were more concerned about their own finances and social status." She lifted her hoof in fury, but managed to hold back from slamming it against the table.

"And then I realised that that was exactly why I had come to Canterlot in the first place. That was why I had glorified them all. I wanted wealth and fame, I wanted to be like them." She worked her jaw, letting her temper fade a little as she went on. "Did you know I used to have a crush on Prince Blueblood?" The Princess shook her head. "I should have realised after I met him that he wasn't one of a kind."

"In that he's an obnoxious, elitist brat?"

Rarity couldn't help but let out a weary chuckle, her anger fading into general disappointment with the plight of equinity. "Yes," she agreed, "yes, that's right. Oh, Princess, I felt so sick with myself - but not as much as I did Lord Goldbanks. He eventually said something like 'the money would be better going into development, they're all going to die eventually.' And I turned around to him and told him, cordially as I could, that my friend helps care for those dying ponies and that all their lives were worth so much more than his wasted one, and left."

She sighed. "That night not only shattered my foalhood dreams, but wrecked my career as well. Everyone who was anypony quickly heard what I'd said, and whether or not they agreed with me, none would come to me anymore, for fear of the wrath of Goldbanks and his friends - of whom he has many. A couple of friends of mine helped me stay in business - I don't suppose you know Mr. Fancy Pants? He's saved me from social suicide more than once now, but it was still harder for me - for us both, I suppose, after that." She took the teacup in her magic once more and drank all that remained of the lukewarm brew.

"I fell in with Twilight's friends instead. Marketed more to a lower-class clientele. I still got some bigger orders, and still found time to work on my own pieces, but a lot of the time I was simply making a lot of the same, simple dresses to sell to highschoolers for their prom. I imagine my name in fashion has faded a little since I left Canterlot for the theatre; I have no idea what it will be like for me to go back. If I'm lucky, perhaps everypony will have forgotten the debacle at the ball and I'll be able to go back to proper fashion work, but it's just too hard to tell."

"You make it sound like you're going back soon," Cadence noted.

"I think I will." It was hard admitting it, but not as hard as sharing the rest of it all. "I can't fight, Princess, not real ponies. It was easier when it was just monsters."

"'Monsters' have strange motivations," said the alicorn. "I personally find ponies who want to harm other ponies all the more despicable."

"I - Twilight said as much, but I don't see it," the younger mare protested, "the monsters are evil."

"You sound like an old unicorn noble who doesn't want earth ponies living in the same town. 'Monsters' are what they are. The Knights are what they've made themselves."

"But," Rarity blustered, confused. "What about the changelings at the wedding? They were-"

"Starving creatures misled by an over-confident leader," Cadence told her. "Almost like the Knights, except if they are starving, it's only because their rulers are blocking all the help Canterlot offers. Queen Chrysalis was just desperate, and thought she saw an opening. If I saw her again I think I could almost forgive her for what she did. Rarity," she urged, "you aren't fighting changelings. You're fighting ponies worse than Lord Goldbanks."

I didn't think there were any. "I thought this was just going to be tea and company," Rarity said, accusingly. "I didn't expect you to try and force my hoof."

"I didn't think I'd be able to," the Princess replied. "Everypony thinks of me as the Princess of Love, you know."

"I know." Everypony thought of Cadence that way, though as to where the story had come from, Rarity could not say. As the only alicorn alive today in public view besides her aunts and her daughter, rumours as to her power abounded, but the Princess lived a much more secluded life than the two true alicorns in Canterlot. Tales of her magical might were merely conjecture, and Cadence was in no hurry to either prove or disprove them - except to Rarity.

"That's not quite the way it is," Cadence explained. "My special talent is understanding what ponies want. My cutie mark is a heart because it represents a heart's desire. If two of them want each other, why shouldn't I give them a nudge in the right direction?"

"No reason," Rarity replied, "no reason at all."

"Twilight didn't put me up to this," the Princess told her, to her surprise. "I wanted to talk to you myself, to try and puzzle out what it was you truly wanted."

"I don't want to hurt anypony else," Rarity replied.

"No," said Cadence, shaking her head gently. "That's not true. You want to stand up for those who have been hurt. You bear the Element of Generosity, you wanted to give everything to those who had nothing. You stood up for those who were suffering even when you knew it might cost you your livelihood."

"The Knights haven't hurt anypony," she said, quietly, "not yet."

"Haven't they? You'd never heard of them until a month ago." The ticking of the clock, the only other sound in the room, seemed horribly loud and distracting right now, but Cadence's eyes held her gaze. "Why do you think there are famines in Reignssia? Why does Canterlot not stand up to the atrocities in the Soul Mountains? Because the Order resists our attempts to help."

"Then why not expose them?" Rarity asked. "Tell the world about the Order."

"If we did we'd have to act," Cadence began to explain. She frowned as she wondered how best to put it. "Many cities where the Knights have influence - even some of the ones they control - seem like normal cities. Take Hockfall, for example. If we want to expose the Knights, we need names. Name Governor Pool as a conspirator and he may become incredibly defensive - he's not the best example, and I suspect he would bend under pressure if it wasn't for the control over him Highpine has - but if we try and indict him, he has control over the city guard. He may try and consolidate his power in Hockfall."

Rarity had not come face-to-face with the Governor, but from Twilight's comments she imagined Pool would sooner surrender than becoming some kind of dictator. "It sounds more like something the more powerful Knights would do."

"Perhaps." Cadence took the teapot and refilled her cup. She offered it to Rarity, but the unicorn shook her head. "But say that happens - we reveal the Knights and they take over cities - Princess Celestia and Princess Luna would have to do something, for the sake of the citizenry and for their own sovereignty. Now, against the Knights' armies, Canterlot can defend the Heartlands. But send enough of our forces out to seige a major city - say, Stalliongrad-"

"And Canterlot becomes vulnerable. I see." Rarity frowned, not in confusion, but in anger. "So Princess Celestia refuses to fight the Knights because she's only worried about her own home?"

"No, Rarity," the princess said, calmly. "She's worried about everypony. While the Knights remain in hiding there's no risk of violence. But if the Princesses give them an opening, the Order will march on Canterlot. There will be war in Equestria, probably on a greater scale than the Eastern War."

The silence when the Princess finished was interrupted both by the clock and by another sound, a strange, shifting noise. Rarity realised she was grinding her teeth.

"There's nothing the Princesses in Canterlot can do but make sure we're strong enough to resist the Knights, both militarily and magically," Cadence went on. "If the Order were to do something like seize the Elements, or ascend another alicorn - a real one," she added, shuffling her wings, "we might not be strong enough to resist."

"The Knights don't know we're looking for the Gate," Rarity insisted, "they don't know that they're missing a chance to get an alicorn on their side!"

"Highpine doesn't," Cadence corrected her, "and besides, their chapters in Celagia are still looking for Rainbow Dash. If they find her, they find the Gate."

Rarity quivered where she sat. Everything Cadence said was true, and she'd already known it, but if she went on - if she fought again - she couldn't bear the thought of having more blood on her hooves. "I can't hurt another pony," she whispered. "I won't tear apart another family."

"If you go back to Canterlot it'll be all the worse," said the Princess. "What about the thousands of families living between the Knights and Canterlot? If war breaks out, many of them will be torn apart too."

Rarity was stunned. She'd never expected Cadence to be so blunt, so manipulative. But was she right?

"It would be selfish," the older mare insisted.

"No..."

"Yes. And Twilight needs you, too," she added. "She'll need your support, like you need mine now."

"I don't need..." Rarity gulped. "I need to..." Cadence lifted an eyebrow. "I need to not have an existential crisis over a cup of tea. Please, Princess, may I take a moment?"

"Of course." Thanking her, Rarity stood and walked out into the hall. It faced the lawns behind the north wing of the manor, and below she could see Cadence's little daughter, Songbird, running about the grass with AJ, despite the frosty weather.

If I go with Twilight, she thought, I could take a father from a little filly just like her. On the other hoof... If I don't, and the Knights find the Gate, more families will be hurt. Maybe even this one. She doubted it, though. Cadence would likely leave for Canterlot at the first sign of trouble. A smiled crossed her face as Applejack went to play-tackle the young Princess, but with a leap and a flutter of tiny wings, Songbird hovered just out of reach and the farmer fell to the ground. She couldn't help but laugh.

The sound of hoofsteps drew her attention. Bluebell appeared at the far end of the corridor, looking slightly lost. Rarity stood still as she came towards her. "Are you alright?" the unicorn asked.

"I was looking for the Princess," replied the spy. "I need her signature to allow a royal airship to land on her property." Her eyes flicked up to gesture at a piece of paper rolled up behind her ear.

"Whatever for?"

"To take me and Longhorn back to Canterlot."

Rarity was surprised at that. "You're leaving too? I thought only Longhorn was returning."

Bluebell laughed. "I need to be debriefed and reassigned. I've been working in Hockfall for years, but Pool'll have me arrested on sight if I try and go back there now, and Celestia can't admit she's got spies. It adds fuel to the Knights' fires. To be honest, it'll be good to have a change of scenery." She saw Rarity's look and laughed again. "Did you think I was coming with you? I'm sorry, Elements of Harmony stuff is way over my head. You can handle yourself."

"You think so?"

"Sure!" The earth mare's teeth flashed as she grinned. "You have got to be the most capable seamstress I've ever met."

Rarity smiled back. "Cadence is in there," she said, gesturing to the parlour. As Bluebell left she turned back to the window. The farmer and the foal had moved on, and were nowhere to be seen. This is a good place for a child to grow, the unicorn thought. So much space to play in. I hope she has friends to share it with.

She thought back then to the play that had changed her life; The Mare of the Eastern Front. During the opening scene a soldier separated from his platoon stumbles onto the grounds of a destroyed boarding school. It was supposed to set up the horrible background of the story and remind the audience that this was before Princess Celestia had outlawed gunpowder - the war that had forced her to do so, in fact. But the building described wasn't so different to Cam Hall, with the only difference being that Cam Hall still stood. Rarity sighed, letting her head droop.

"Thanks," Bluebell said, emerging from the door behind her. Rarity perked up at her entry. "Don't worry, you haven't seen the last of me yet. This'll take a couple of days to process and then it'll be a fortnight or so until the airship gets here. Equestria is a stupidly large country."

"Tell me about it," Rarity replied with a grin. "We're not even halfway to the coast yet."

"Yeah, well, hopefully you won't have to go the rest of the way on hoof. I'm sure you can get a train or something." Bluebell turned to make her way back down the corridor. "Hey, you gonna be down soon? The little Princess asked the cook to make hot chocolate for everypony now that she's done outside. I don't know if you'll want any if you've been having tea-"

"That sounds lovely," Rarity cut across, calmly. "I'll come downstairs shortly, I just need to finish what I was discussing with Cadence."

Bluebell gave her a quizzical look. "I thought you were just having tea together. What's up?"

"Oh! Oh." Rarity blushed, realising her mistake. "Well, we were, but I, ah, we're not quite finished." The excuse was pathetic, but Bluebell didn't press her. She simply nodded and turned away once more. Not quite finished? Rarity asked herself. Really? A pre-school foal can come up with better excuses. She didn't know what to make of Bluebell. The mare was friendly enough under pleasant circumstances - but she had a violent side to her, and had suffered an awful loss not too long ago. Perhaps it is a facade, she thought, or maybe she is just better at dealing with grief than I am. Pondering the matter, she turned back to the parlour, where Cadence was waiting.

"Well?" the Princess asked as she sat down.

"I'll go on," Rarity said, "for as long as I have to. There are children out there, like your daughter, who have their whole lives ahead of them, and they need a world to live them in. Maybe me going won't make any difference to whether there's a war or not, but I'm not going to rest on that assumption." Her face was resolute. "I'm going with Twilight."

Cadence smiled, and nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. But what will you do if the Order comes after you again?"

Rarity felt her jaw fall slack as she stared at Cadence in disbelief. She had just convinced her to go on, so why was she now trying to get her to change her mind? "I," she tried, "ah..." Her tail lashed in frustration, but when she looked to the Princess again, she was still smiling. "Princess?"

"I'm glad that question still bothers you. I was worried for a moment that you might have told me you'd be stronger, or you wouldn't let killing another pony bother you again. I think we both know that would be lying."

"It would," Rarity agreed. Inside, something that had tensed up when Cadence first spoke relaxed.

"You shall have to deal with this in your own way, in your own time," the alicorn told her. "Nopony can tell you how to think, though some may try. Find your own way, but always remember where you're going - and why."

"For peace. For your daughter, and all the little children. For the oppressed, that maybe one day we can free them." Her face was drawn, her voice resolute. "Princess, you're right. It would be selfish for me to turn away now, and selfishness does not befit me. I'll go with Twilight. I'll see this through to the end."

Stalliongrad

In Red Axe's family's tiny room, little Hatchet was sleeping in the corner. His wife, Frostfall, sat frying mushrooms over a paraffin stove. She hadn't been called in for weather duty since Saturday, with the Tsar refusing to authorise the pegasi teams. Rumour had it that he was trying to send all the city's workforce into the factories, to finish the work for the capital faster, but some noble, politician or officer had stood up to him, and the debate was raging inside the Palace. Frostfall didn't mind, Axe knew. She may not be getting paid, but at least she got to spend time with the foals.

But he did. He didn't begrudge his wife the chance to rest, but every day it felt like the pouch of gold he bought home from the factory was getting smaller. He forced himself to smile as he stepped inside.

"Hi, sweetheart," he whispered as he sat down beside her. She smiled at him, her ice-blue eyes full of life. She didn't let their weary existence get to her, even if he did.

"Hey," she said back. "How was work?"

"Fine. We got a bit of a break today; they've finished all the pieces for that ridiculous metal sculpture. Back to hauling pipes and wheels and the like. I pity the folks who'll have to keep the statue clean when it's done; that much metal'll rust quick in the open air. Where's Glacia?" He pulled out the little pouch of gold starting counting. His brow wrinkled in concern as he pawed the pieces. "Gods damnit," he snarled.

"Ssh," his pegasus wife hushed him, "Glacia went to the shop for me, to buy bread. What's the matter?"

"Eight bitmarks short," he groaned, and Frostfall sighed and slumped against him. A wage of forty marks a day was barely enough to hold a family together, even with rent paid for. If it wasn't for his wife's job on the weather team, Axe would have gone to bed hungry some nights. Most of the food in the city was imported from other regions, especially during the winter, and it was so much more expensive than elsewhere in Equestria.

"You aren't drinking tonight," Frost said, wearily. He grunted in response. He knew she was right; he couldn't afford it. At least without any weather authorised, snow and wind only came with the wild storms, so they didn't have to spend too much on fuel.

It wasn't long before Glacia trotted in, thankfully with the loaf she'd been sent to get. "The bread queue wasn't too bad today," she explained. "Hi, daddy." The filly had her mother's light colours and build, but she was an earth pony. When she got older, she would most likely be too scrawny to follow her father's work, let alone the difficulties with her mother's profession.

"Hello, Glacia." He frowned. "How did you get in?"

"The hook for the chain came off the wall," she said, and her parents shared a despairing look. A new hook would take time or money, probably both. Neither were going spare. Axe hoped the old one could be reattached.

"Thanks, sweetie," he said. "Would you slice some bread for us?"

"Yes, daddy."

Later that night when the foals were asleep, Axe and Frostfall lay together on their mattress, huddled under the blankets for warmth that the thin walls couldn't quite provide. He ran a hoof through her mane, and she snuggled up to him.

"It'll be OK," he mumbled, suddenly, convicted.

"What will?" She was confused, surprised by his sudden certainty. "What's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong." He'd been thinking about it for a while now, but the last few missing bits had done it. "We shouldn't have to live like this. Our children shouldn't have to live like this-"

"Hey, hey, hey." Her white hoof came up to halt his speech. "You'll wake them."

"I'm sorry," he said, turning to look into her eyes, "but they shouldn't."

"I know. But what more can we do?"

"Make sure Glacia keeps going to school." He sighed. "Maybe she'll get a proper job one day, with prospects. Try our best for little Hatchet too when he grows up. And if anything happens-"

"Nothing's going to happen," she hushed him again. "You have to stop worrying about these things."

He wriggled, trying to get comfortable on the worn-out bed. How could he explain it to her? She was born for weather work, but him - his place was out in the forests. His grandfather had been a timber master, with a business behind him and good solid work - but his son - Axe's father - had jumped at the chance to get into the city. He hadn't known what a hellhole it would be for his ailing wife, and his teenage son - who had just discovered his talent. You couldn't be a lumberjack in the big city; one built from brick and stone, no less. Frostfall could follow her calling here, but he could not. Reduced to heaving around sledges of metal for a princess whose face he'd never seen? That wasn't the life for him. He almost wanted something drastic to happen, in the hope that something better would come.

But all he said was, "I know. But if they did - I want you to know that I would do anything to keep them safe. My father did everything for himself. Everything I do-"

"-You do it for the children." She smiled, but Axe didn't, not yet. She'd cut him off.

"For the children," he said gently, "and you."

Shanghay Docks

"Unh!" grunted the stricken stallion. His breath left his body almost as quickly as his blood. With an upward swipe of his sword, Shining Armor's pristine coat was spattered with red droplets. Scowling, he ignored the gore as he shoved the dead pony over the rail. Nopony heard the splash as the Knight hit the water, save for he who slew him - a knight of another order.

He took the stairs down slowly, but not without impatience. He was the only creature in the boathouse now, he had been followed to his destination, and now nopony was here to pick him up. Shining Armor cursed his luck, throwing a glance at the door he'd come in through. Still closed. If the meeting, planned months in advance, were not to happen now, he was doomed. The Bloodied Cross were out in numbers tonight. He hunkered down in the shadows beside the jetty and waited, worrying.

It was not long before he heard the sound. A chug-chug-chugging came from outside, growing closer by the second. A lamp blazed from the shadows, its brightness forcing him to cover his eyes.

"Are you mad?" he hissed to the ferrypony as he killed his engine. "We agreed on silence! I wasn't expecting you to show up with - with an airship engine strapped to a rowboat!"

"This way is faster," the Chineighman replied. "Hurry, Prince Armor."

Scowling, Shining Armor clambered into the motorboat, glaring into its bottom as it rocked. He didn't like the engines on these things, no matter how fast they could go. Give me wind and sails any day. Fuming, he sheathed his sword, though he did not yet feel safe. "Why aren't we moving?" he complained, turning to the boatcolt.

The stallion was slumped across the engine with a quarrel in his neck. Shining Armor gasped.

"I wouldn't go with that one, my lord," a soft voice called. Whirling, Shining Armor tried to draw his sword, but the boat rocked as he swiveled, and he pitched into the water. Splashing to the surface, he took the proffered hooves that pulled him from the sea - and pulled his smaller blade on his rescuer, forcing his head back to the water's edge.

"Who are you working for?" he hissed, his knife to the other pony's throat.

"The Emperor," the boatcolt replied, trying to keep a handle on his nerves but failing miserably. His voice shook as he protested his innocence. "I'm here to take you across the bay. The other stallion was an assassin." A bead of sweat rolled down from his forehead to drop into the sea.

"Prove it," Shining Armor grunted, not withdrawing his weapon. Nervously, the stallion reached inside his jacket and pulled forth a medallion with a shaking hoof. Engraved in the bronze was the image of a cherry tree - the symbol of the Jade Emperor, and not a token given away lightly. After a moment's pause, Shining Armor let the Chineighman up, and sheathed his blade.

The boatcolt didn't say another word, and instead, taking a long oar, pushed away, out from under the dock, and into the open harbour. The bright lights of Shanghay began to fade away behind them, and Shining Armor wasn't sorry to see them go. "What brings you this far from Canterlot?" the boatcolt eventually said.

"I was running from the Order," was all Shining told him. The truth would be for the Emperor's ears only.

"You are lucky your princesses have a friend in our Emperor," the boatcolt replied, moonlight glinting from his teeth as he grinned. "Of course, the Order may well think they have you. They feared you might escape, and sent the Black Boatmen to pick you up. A drowning, it would have been for you, if not for your friend. He saw them coming, and warned me."

"Them?"

"Oh yes. The Black Boatmen always work in pairs."

"Pairs?" The Prince's nerves were clear in his voice. The Boatmen were a group of Shanghay assassins, who could be hired to drown their unsuspecting target - though just because he wasn't in one of their craft didn't mean they would leave him alone. "But what about the other one?"

They had been speaking slowly, and were pulling away into the bay. A dark night it was, clouded over, and the only light by which to see was those that shone on Shanghay's shore. Darker and darker it grew as the boatcolt rowed further and further away - until a gout of emerald fire lit up the night, out away from the city. The Prince could almost swear he heard a scream.

"His motor wasn't faster than a dragon's flight," came the reply, and a toothy grin glinted in the night. A black shape twisted in the skies above them, and Shining Armor was grateful for his companion - not for the first time. The great beast angled downwards in midair and plunged, quietly for such a large creature, into the sea, and the boat rocked with the ripples. Moments later, a head surfaced beside them, and Spike the Dragon smiled with a mouthful of cruel teeth, though the smile itself was without malice.

"We made it, Shiny," the young dragon quietly exalted. "We'll be safe in Neighjing until the Princesses need us again."

"Or they call us home," Shining Armor agreed, smiling too. "I miss my wife and daughter."

"I miss all my friends," Spike said, "but they're safer now, right? The Order of the Bloody Cross, fooled by a - a teenage dragon and a Canterlot Prince!" He swam along side the boat with a gentle breaststroke, his long limbs making sweeping movements through the black water.

"Keep your voice down," Shining Armor urged him. "We aren't safe just yet."

"Pfft," Spike rasped, "it'll be fine. We're in the only boat in the whole bay. Believe me, I checked."

Shining Armor did not reply. He wouldn't feel truly safe until he could speak to his beloved Cadence again, and their work was meaningless if the truth behind the Elements' decay was never revealed. We are not the heroes of this story, he thought, not for the first time, just pawns for Celestia to move. He did not feel bitter at that realisation. He trusted the princess. Being her pawn had always been his job - maybe he was more like her knight, some would say, or her rook, but he had always found chess metaphors to be a little ridiculous. If this is a chess game, the princess is playing multiple opponents at once, and pieces are being swapped between boards. She is probably cheating.

The Imperial Bay was deadly quiet, no boats or ships plying the waters that night, save that little ferry with its royal passenger and strange companion beside it. The prince had never been a fugitive before, but now he had been he looked forward to the refuge offered to him - more so as it came from a castle he'd always wanted to see. Of all the equine's world's great castles, the palace at Canterlot was the grandest - but the Jade Palace was probably older, and with a greater history behind it. And it was out there in the darkness, on the other side of the bay. Waiting. For me.