Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle, and Lyra were at the Ponyville train station, awaiting the arrival of the 1:15 to Canterlot. Applejack and Pinkie Pie were seeing them off, although Twilight Sparkle had trouble keeping up with the conversation. She would peer back toward the station, searching for Lero’s bipedal form walking above the ponies. Sometimes she would flap well above the platform and study Ponyville intently before settling back down.

“Don’t fret, Twi. He’ll be here,” Dash said, watching Twilight flap above her head for the third time. “He's why we're going to Canterlot, anyway.”

“Well, I just don’t want him to be late,” Twilight said, landing back on the platform. “The train wouldn't wait for him.”

“Ooh, I bet Twilight could use her princess privilege to make it stop!” Pinkie said. She reared up on her hind legs and thrust out a hoof. “Engineer! Don’t move this train, or else!”

“Oh, I would never do that,” Twilight said, as her imagination of the abuse of power caused her to duck her head.

“Pfft, yeah,” Dash said. “She won’t even get her own private car.”

“I don’t need a private car. I don’t want to be treated differently just because I’m royalty.”

“I like that attitude, Twilight,” Applejack said. “I’m glad you didn't turn all frou-frou on us, tryin’ to lord it up and everything.”

Twilight met Applejack’s praise with a bashful smile and pink cheeks. “Thanks, Applejack.”

“Hey, remember when I played Commander Hurricane?” Dash asked, showing a slick grin. “That’s how you should act as a princess. Just bark your orders out at everyone.”

“Oh please,” Twilight said.

“Ooh, remember when I was Chancellor Puddinghead?” Pinkie asked, violently inserting herself between Dash and Twilight. “I used food rewards to order my underlings around. Chocolate cake if you’re good, broccoli if you’re bad!”

Applejack cocked an eyebrow. “Now Pinkie, I don’t believe that was in the play.”

“What play?”

“Here comes the train,” Lyra said. She could feel the vibration of the metal beast leap into the wooden platform and dance under her hooves. The mares’ conversation had passed in and out of her awareness while she was feeling the breeze brushing her mane and the sun rubbing her coat. Seconds later, puffs of smoke rose over the horizon.

“I'm going to go find him,” Twilight said, readying her body to launch into the air.

“There he is,” Lyra said, with a playful smile. The four mares followed her line of sight toward Ponyville.

“Tarnation,” Applejack said. “What’s he wearing?”

He was wearing a black business suit with a white dress shirt and a black tie, though more stylish than average. It was a Rarity special, and the curves and angles could have easily passed as something from the great Italian fashion houses. It was a suit he wanted specifically for meetings with government officials.

“I followed our plans exactly, Lero,” Rarity had told him, days ago, as he admired her handiwork at her boutique. The white dress shirt, its French cuffs held together with gold cufflinks inlaid with onyx, was draped over one of the brand new ‘mannequins’ Rarity had specially designed. She was the possessor of the only two in the world. The shirt’s collar was full of a black silk tie displaying a perfect Windsor knot. The other mannequin had his dress jacket, a two button single-breasted design without the breast pocket – Lero wanted a symmetrical appearance due to reasons he couldn't quite explain. Maybe I have a deep-seated fear of asymmetry, he thought. He couldn't remember ever feeling that way before, though.

“Rarity, that’s perfect.”

“Thank you, darling! I’m quite proud of it. And, if I may be perfectly honest, you’re an excellent canvas for my art.”

Lero smiled. “Thanks Rarity. So, what do the pants look like?”

“What pants?”

Even now, as he was carrying his rolling luggage, Lero had to smile at that. Yeah, he was going to meet the princesses with shirt, jacket, tie, shoes, but no pants. Of course, ponies rarely ever wore pants anyway, so he didn't begrudge Rarity forgetting that one important point.

He heard Rainbow shout his name, and saw her floating above his herd and their friends, waving her hoof. He waved back, grinning at her grin. His fingers throbbed with soreness, since sometime last night Lyra had taken his middle and index finger into her mouth, and had fallen asleep without removing them.

He walked past the outhouse next to the platform when the door violently swung open. Lero gave a startled glance as Berry Punch, her face full of what could be described as regret, shut the door behind her. She glanced up at his querying expression.

“Chardonnay doesn't pair well with nachos,” she said.

“Ah,” Lero said. “Well, thanks for the tip.”

“Keep the change.”

He moved toward the stairs where his herd were waiting for him. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting,” he said. “I was helping Spike build a trebuchet.”

“Lero!” Twilight said, trotting up to him as he navigated the stairs with his suitcase. Twilight gripped it in her magic and levitated it over to the porter, who tagged it and put it in line to be placed in the luggage car of the train. “You look amazing!”

“Thanks,” Lero said, flashing a smile. “As usual, you can thank Rarity for her fine work.” He walked toward the group and met their greetings with his own.

“You sure clean up good, Mr. Handy,” Applejack said. The train was busy pulling into the station, and the terrified squealing of iron brakes and the dangerous hissing of steam nearly overpowered their conversation. “Pretty fancy."

“Thanks, Applejack.”

The train car let out its passengers, and those idling on the platform waited for permission to enter the cars. One earth pony stallion left the train, and did a double take as he saw Lero.

“Ugh! What in Equestria is that thing?” the stallion said, his lips curled back in disgust and confusion.

“Hello to you, too,” Lero said.

The stallion’s brows shot upward. “Someone taught it how to speak?”

With a bang that vibrated the wooden slats and traveled into the bodies present, Dash slammed down into the wooden platform, raised her wings, and stared down the stallion. The stallion’s entire body cringed, as if trying to hide inside himself.

“Shut your mouth,” Dash said. “Keep moving.”

“S-sorry, I-"

“Shut. Up.”

The stallion quickly trotted away, his fear-stricken face not leaving Dash’s steady glare. He broke into a gallop toward Ponyville, and Dash did not let up watching him until he was out of sight.

Her body deflated when he was gone, her wings lowering against her body. Her anger dissipated, and strange feelings of shame settled in her heart, though it was only a pinprick. Venting anger at a stallion just wasn't something she ever wanted to do.

Twilight and Lyra leaned against Lero, and even Pinkie reared up to give him a hug.

“I’m sorry that happened,” Twilight said.

“It’s okay,” Lero said, patting Twilight and Lyra, and then reaching around to pat Pinkie. When they let go, he went up to Dash and held her cheek.

“Thanks, Dash,” he said.

“Eh, it was nothing.” Dash said, forcing some old bravado into her smile, her heart leaping at his touch.

The porter called for ‘all aboard’. The herd said goodbye to their two friends, and made to enter the cars.

“Ooh, before you go!” Pinkie said, as she stuck her head toward Lero. “Pleeease?”

With a lopsided smile, Lero plunged both hands into Pinkie’s cottony mess of a mane and vigorously scratched, scritched, and rubbed her scalp.

“Ooooooh,” Pinkie let out, her moan sweet and satisfying like fresh pastry, as Lero made electric pleasure on her head. Pinkie’s tongue hung out of the side of her mouth, and her eyes rolled up to meet her eyelids, lowered at half-mast.

“You know, he usually charges for that,” Dash said. She meant it as a joke, but it came out half angry.

“It’s okay, Dash,” Lero said, as he bent lower to continue massaging Pinkie, her body virtually melting into a puddle. “I’ll give a freebie to a friend every now and then.”

Lero got a flash of petting a dog, but pushed it aside. He didn't want to think of ponies as dogs, as it was terribly insensitive, and could possibly lead to some social faux pas. He had managed not to fall into any, thanks to Twilight’s guidance when he first came here (for instance, patting the head of an adult pony was usually considered as highly patronizing; the patter was implying that the pattee was a foal), but Pinkie’s reaction to his scalp massage was putting associations in his mind that he wasn't comfortable making.

Pinkie eventually lay on the platform, and Lero quit his massage, as he’d have to sit on the platform if he expected to continue. It was past time to board, anyway.

They said their goodbyes to Applejack, as Pinkie was off in another world, and boarded. Applejack left Pinkie behind, deciding to let her sleep it off. It ain't like anypony would trip over her, she thought.

The herd entered a passenger car, and Lero noticed Berry Punch was behind them.

“Hello again,” Lero said. “Going to Canterlot?”

“Yeah, but just to grab the train to Beavertron. Visiting my father.”

“Long trip?”

“Eh, it’s only about thirty miles north of Canterlot.”

“Well, since you’re here, how about you sit with us?”

Behind Lero, Berry Punch saw Rainbow Dash staring at her, her glare full of the sound of sharpening knives. That sort of challenge would be enough to make her say ‘yes’, just to instigate trouble, but going to Beavertron always put Berry in a pensive mood.

“Thanks, but I usually get an entire seat to myself. I like to lie down. Thanks though.”

“No problem,” Lero said, moving toward his seat with his herd. Dash’s frown was full of secrets, but Lero thought nothing of it.

Lero always had to duck when walking in a train car. It was like he was the intruding adult at an amusement park, trying to get on the kids’ rides. The ornate and flowery interior, painted in soft pastels, added to the playtime feeling.

The cloth benches were low to the floor, and he had to cross his legs at an awkward angle to sit on them. It wasn't an uncomfortable position, but he always had to stretch when standing up – which was hard to do in the low ceiling of the car. He had long since gotten over his fear of sitting on items where a pony’s bare bottom had been before. It was simply one of the many fears he had to conquer to function normally in Equestria.

He sat next to the aisle, sharing his seat with Twilight.

"It's nice of you two to come with us," Lero said to Lyra and Dash, sitting across from him.

"Hey, you guys need some..." she hunted for the term. "Moral support, and that's what we do."

"Well, it is very nice," Twilight said. "I'm surprised you're willing to brave a long lecture."

"Oh, I'm not actually going to the meeting. Me and Lyra are going to hang in Canterlot."

Twilight giggled. "Moral support from a distance, huh?"

"It's the thought that counts," Lero said. He held out his fist toward Twilight, who grinned and bumped it with her horn, her ring tapping his ring.

“That’s so lame,” Dash said, as he did the same with Lyra. Lero turned to her and held out his fist, and she grinned and met it with her hoof, bumping his ring with her anklet. Twilight snickered.

Lero glanced at his ring, holding out his fingers flat.

“You did a wonderful job on them,” Twilight said.

“Thanks. I was just thinking about our flowers. I tried to make them last as long as possible.”

“I remember,” Twilight said. “They’re supposed to be temporary, anyway.”

“I know,” Lero said. He looked up at Twilight, his hazel eyes shining. “They meant a lot to me, though. I wanted to keep them.”

“Do you know about the origin of the flower?” Lyra asked.

Lero nodded. “It made them seem so sordid.”

“Wait,” Dash said, “what is the origin?”

“They came from earth pony aristocrats, well before unification,” Twilight said. Dash had asked the question to Lero, but Twilight, so eager to launch into lecture mode, pushed ahead to answer. Dash let her have it. After a long whistle, the train lurched forward, beginning the process of accelerating toward Canterlot.

“In the bad old days, earth ponies had to protect themselves from numerous predators and, well, unicorns and pegasus looking for slaves.” Her shame on those last words were apparent, despite the long time elapsed since those practices. “Being on constant vigilance meant mating practices had to be pretty quick. Once a mare introduced herself to a stallion, and the stallion reciprocated the interest - and in those days, unattached stallions had to reciprocate or face punishment - they, well, pretty much launched into mating and herding on the spot.”

“Whoa. Just like that?”

“Just like that. Really, that was the norm probably back when the first equines appeared on Equus. It’s the sexual life of most prey animals. You never knew when predators would strike, so sex had to be quick, and practiced in the protection of a herd. The aristocratic earth ponies invented the flower symbolism, and the drawn-out courting practices that go with it, as a way of separating themselves from the commoners.”

“That’s how it was in the history of my world, mostly,” Lero said. “Complicated practices invented by the rulers to separate themselves from the plebes. That’s how manners and etiquette were developed.”

“Wait,” Dash said, “so the flower was just some snobby thing the aristocratic earth ponies invented to make themselves seem special?”

“Pretty much,” Twilight said. “It was their way of saying, ‘we’re so rich and powerful that we can hire guards to protect us from predators and other pony tribes, so we can take time with our courting and herding.’”

“They didn't have to worry about a bunch of hungry Leros showing up and causing trouble,” Lyra said with a wink.

Dash grinned. She had a great idea for their next role-play session.

“And when unification happened, the aristocratic houses from the other tribes adopted the flower,” Twilight said. “Over the years the commoners, starting with the petite bourgeoisie, began using the flower as well, and it trickled down to the working class.”

“Wow,” Dash said. She folded her front legs. “It doesn't seem so romantic now.”

“It’s the intention behind it that matters,” Lyra said. “We offered flowers in love and companionship, and that’s romantic enough.”

The train pulled into Canterlot station, and Twilight Sparkle, staring out the window, stifled a sigh.

“It looks like the guard are here to escort us,” Twilight said, as her group entered the aisle. “I can’t really be incognito like I used to.”

“No complaints from Dash, I bet,” Lyra said, giving Dash a poke in the ribs. “All the eye candy she can stand.”

Dash shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, giving Lyra a vinegar look. Lero was good-natured about her attraction to Royal Guard, but she didn’t want to push it, especially with him standing right next to her with that half-smile of his. He brushed his fingers through the hair tumbling down her neck, and she grinned at his touch.

They exited the train, and all ponies present bowed at Princess Twilight Sparkle. Lero tried to stretch as secretly as possible, but the pop of his joints gave him away. His luggage was being moved by one of the unicorn guard, who was grasping the handle in his magic.

“Greetings, Princess Twilight Sparkle, and herd. Welcome to Canterlot,” a guard said.

“Thank you, Right Stuff,” Twilight said. “Will you be escorting us to the throne room today?”

“I will be escorting you, Princess, but to the tea garden. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna will greet you there.”

Plenty of Canterlotese bowed as Twilight and her group was escorted to the garden. Stern stares from the guard kept her from being accosted. Twilight was flushed from the attention, and her herd watched carefully as she warded off panic attacks.

“May we stop for a moment, please?” Twilight asked, channeling the quiet manner of Fluttershy.

“Halt!” Right Stuff ordered, and the retinue quit moving. Twilight sat on her hunches, and practiced the breathing exercises Cadance had taught her.

“Continue, please,” she said when she finished.

The energizing scent of rosemary greeted the herd as they entered the massive balcony known as the Royal Tea Garden. Nestled between plants, flushed green with health, was a bright blue crystal table, where Celestia and Luna had been sipping tea from porcelain cups that had settled on its glassy surface. Celestia arose with a warm smile, while Luna sat behind the table, across from the entrance, and watched the herd enter with her typical stony features.

“Hello my friends,” Celestia said, approaching the group. Lyra and Dash bowed, while Lero bowed at his waist. While he adopted many of the pony norms to better fit in, he never closed his eyes when bowing to Celestia.

Celestia bent her head down toward Twilight, who, at the last second, turned to nuzzle Celestia, cheek-to-cheek. Celestia brushed Twilight’s cheek with her lips when she moved away. She greeted Lero with a hug from her right wing.

“Thank you for visiting us, Lero. It was very kind of you to share your discoveries with us.”

“I can’t really take credit for it, princess,” Lero said. “It’s something that’s existed on my world for a while. I just hope it’s as useful as Twilight seems to think it is.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Celestia said, as she folded her wing, the tips of her feathers brushing against Lero’s neck.

“Greetings, fellow princess,” Luna said to Twilight, as Twilight moved toward her while Celestia gave her greetings to the rest of the herd. “I welcome you to our newly constructed tea garden.”

“Thank you, P- Luna,” Twilight said, as she trotted to where Luna was standing. Twilight reared back in shock when she got a full view of Luna’s body modification.

“Ah, pardon me,” Luna said. Her horn lit, and she blinked her sheath, and the penis it held, from existence. “I had engaged in sexual congress with one of my guards and her herd this morning. It must have slipped my mind.”

“T-that’s okay,” Twilight said, with a nervous giggle. “Um…”

“I could teach you the spell,” Luna said. “I’m sure Lyra would find it quite enticing. Perhaps even Rainbow would wish to join with you.”

Twilight’s nervous giggle crossed the border into panic, as she sensed her herd and Celestia returning to the table.

“Perhaps at a later time,” Luna said, speaking at a low volume. Luna’s last minute compromise to propriety calmed Twilight, though her blush hadn’t dimmed as she turned to face Celestia.

“I hope you won’t mind sharing tea with us before talking to our Self Defense staff,” Celestia said, taking her place next to Luna. Luna greeted Lyra, Dash, and Lero.

Using her magic, Celestia poured oolong tea into the cups in front of her guests. “I hope you’ll pardon my absence from most of your lecture, Twilight, but the Sejm is meeting to vote on sending more supplies to the Appaloosian territories. Luna and I need to attend.”

“Oh! Does that have to do with the massive amounts of pollen producing flora that were destroyed?” Twilight asked. “I read that they captured the mad chemist, Ig Farben.”

Celestia smiled. “Yes, Twilight. He’s currently undergoing demolishment at Bester Hospital. His psychic rebuild is expected to be complete within the month.”

“We should not be held long,” Luna said, in a regal voice. “I do not foresee a liberum veto. We’ll attend the latter half of your presentation.”

With a smile that Luna recognized as mischievous, Celestia turned toward Twilight and asked, “Twilight, do you remember why I instituted the liberum veto?”

Twilight straightened her posture, and recited, “The liberum veto was introduced to ensure that all decisions made by the Sejm were in accord with the principles of harmony. Any bill or law that was not agreed upon by every single member was not harmonious, and thus not fit to be enshrined.”

“Exactly as the history books say,” Celestia said.

“That’s what you said in your original speech. Now I expect you to tell me that it’s all wrong.”

It was subtle, but Celestia’s teacup jittered in its saucer. She put it down on the table. “Am I truly that obvious?”

“I know that smile, Celestia,” Twilight said, with a grin of her own. The fear of disrespect lingered at calling her ‘Celestia’, but it dimmed each new time she said her teacher’s name. “I learned to recognize it when you were teaching me.”

Celestia let lose a golden laugh, open and kind, and Lyra smiled at the ache threatening her heart.

“You make me proud, Twilight,” Celestia said, and Twilight fluttered with the praise. “Indeed, I created the liberum veto simply to keep the Sejm out of trouble. If they were forced to pass legislature with a unanimous vote, then they would have to learn compromise. I also introduced it to undercut the pernicious absolutist influence of the Persimmon party, which fortunately no longer exists.”

Lero cleared his throat. “There was something similar on my home planet, practiced by a nation that no longer exists. Their liberum veto was open to manipulation by outside forces who could simply bribe certain legislators to serve their interests. This weakened the nation to the point where it was eventually partitioned by three other nations.”

“That was my problem with the idea, though I wasn't around to oppose it,” Luna said. “Fortunately, Celestia created means to detect such events. It rarely happened, and improvements I have introduced should make it nearly impossible.”

“Oh, you mean the espionage network you overhauled?” Twilight said.

Luna fixed Twilight with a stare full of cold iron. “Do you mean the classified espionage network, Princess Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight gasped, putting her wings over her face in embarrassment. “Oh gosh, I did not mean to say that out loud! I’m so sorry!”

“There’s no need for apologies,” Celestia said. “I know all assembled will tell no one.”

“Certainly not,” Lyra said. Lero and Dash both agreed.

A guard came and announced that Lero and his crew were to be escorted to the conference room. They said their goodbyes to Celestia and Luna, and followed the guard.

Celestia watched Lero depart, her lips pursed by secret concerns. She then quoted, “The darkness drops again but now I know/that twenty centuries of stony sleep/were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle/and what rough beast, its hour come round at last/slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?”

“Delightfully cryptic, sister,” Luna said, as she poured more tea into her cup. “What is a ‘Bethlehem’?”

“I’m not sure,” Celestia said, slowly moving her warm gaze toward her sister. “What I quoted is part of a larger piece. Very odd.”

“Did you come up with it yourself?”

“No. It came into my mind fully formed.”

“Would I be correct in assuming that it happened on the day Lero arrived in our world?”

Celestia studied her sister. “I assume you have one as well.”

“You assume correctly.” Luna cleared her throat, and quoted, “'We keep imagining eternity as an idea that cannot be grasped, something vast, vast! But why must it be vast? Instead of all that, imagine suddenly that there will be one little room there, something like a village bathhouse, covered with soot, with spiders in all the corners, and that’s the whole of eternity.'”

Celestia breathed deeply, trying to let the helpful scents of the tea garden clear her head. “Cryptic phrases that could be described as disturbing or terrifying entered our heads when Lero first appeared. Are we the only ones?”

“We could ask Cadance and Twilight if they experienced something similar,” Luna said. She watched her sister intently as the theatre of concern, a deep concern touched with an old darkness, played across her face. “Fear not, sister. There is artistry in these words, despite their dark content. I assume they are from Lero’s kind. Not from the rancid bitches and whatever clunking abortions they pass as art.”

Celestia bristled. “Let’s not speak of them.”

“Fine. Instead, let’s speak of your attraction to your one-time student and her stallion.”

Celestia stared at her Luna, eyes wide open.

Luna rolled her eyes. “Please, sister. I saw how you moved your lips across dear Twilight’s cheek, and how you brushed Lero’s soft neck with your feathers. Your body trembled in pleasure. You know I saw it, so don’t waste time playing pretend.”

Celestia took halting steps toward her sister, her neck bobbing as she worked to arrange her feelings into words. “It’s shocking,” Celestia said, “to have these feelings after so long.”

“It’s not shocking. Celibate you may be, but eunuch you are not.”

“Over a thousand years, Luna. I chose the path of celibacy, forswore romantic entanglements, to better serve my ponies. And now these feelings toward my former student and an alien. It’s ridiculous.”

“Your celibacy is ridiculous,” Luna said. “There’s no need for it. Your insistence on combining love with sex has always baffled me. That it’s easier for you to forgo sex instead of simply separating the love component you've attached to it is an aberration of psychology and sociology.”

Celestia smiled. “You know my nature, Luna. I’m a natural romantic.”

“If you want to call yourself a romantic, then be a romantic. Declare your love to your student, and to Lero. Ask to join their herd.”

Celestia let out an elegant scoff. “You know the noble houses would never accept it, especially with Twilight’s new castle and rulership. I couldn't do that to my country.”

Luna huffed. “Then simply stable with Twilight and Lero. I’m sure Lyra and Rainbow Dash wouldn't mind. There may be rumblings from the nobility, but since the throne isn't joining itself to a house, then who really would pay attention to the fuss?”

Luna peered at Celestia as she sorted her thoughts. Luna took a sip to force herself not to smile, and then said, “From espionage and dreams, I can confirm that Lero is a lover of astonishing sexual ability. A master at cornilingus. As we have overheard the gossip of our pegasus guards, ‘ten times’ is no mere rumor.”

Celestia fixed Luna with a patient smile. “You know that bedroom ability never mattered to me.”

“And once again does my sister display an aberration of nature.”

Celestia laughed. So many times had she and Luna had these talks. Early in their long life span, when they worried about the age difference between themselves and potential lovers (they stopped worrying about it around the age of two-hundred). Discussions about dealing with grief and memories of lovers passed, which affected Celestia far more than they did Luna. So many worries and wonderings cured or rendered unimportant by a simple listening ear and caring heart. Luna knew her sister so well that questions of why, as in 'Why Twilight and Lero?' need not be asked.

“Thank you, Luna, for your opinions. You're always the splash of cool water I need. I may pursue stabling, though it will be in the future. I want Twilight to be more comfortable with me, to see me as a friend and peer. If I don’t achieve that, however…” Celestia shook her head.

Luna popped a hoof out of her slipper and placed it on Celestia’s shoulder. “I will help out in any manner I can.”

“Thank you. And now, we need to discuss what you've been hiding about Lero.”

Luna stared, impassive. “What clue did you uncover?”

“Mentioning dreams and Lero. Your face was a pinch confused – and not a new confusion, but one you've been ruminating on for a while.”

“Well read, sister. Indeed, every glance and furrow from ourselves is but an open book to ourselves.”

“And now you’re stalling.”

Luna stood, ambled toward the edge of the balcony, and gazed into the city below. Celestia watched the dark build of her sister’s body, shadows and secrets wrapped in night, all controlled by a stern pragmatism.

“Yes,” Luna said. “Something deeply perplexing and confusing. I’m not able to order my thoughts.”

“Please use me as your slate, Luna.”

Luna, wings spread, ambled around Celestia, her shoes pressing down into the velvet green grass. Her eyes scanned the ground, looking but not noticing, as her thoughts turned inward.

“I've walked Mr. Lero’s dreams before, and always felt ill at ease, despite my power over the dreamscape. One night, I found the reason; there is a deeper sub-layer beneath his dreams, which I am not able to explain. He… fell into it, and I followed him. I have never before been terrified while in another being’s mind. I had no power, no control over where I was. This was not a dreamscape. This was a deeper layer of consciousness...”

Luna paused, flipping through her massive storehouse of words and definitions to explain what she saw.

“It was an unconsciousness, Celestia, because Lero will never be aware of being there. He wakes up from this and will remember nothing, unlike dreams. It was inhabited with ancient beings of terrifying power, alicorn-like power.” Luna shook her head. “No, not beings. I’m afraid I’m equinizing what I experienced. There was nothing sentient or sapient here. I believe forms would be a better term… types. Forms.”

“Forms?” Celestia said. “Like ideals?”

“Perhaps,” Luna said. “But with a very basic personality. I shall refer to them as archetypes. Lero’s self, his very selfhood… disintegrated here, sister. He merged with these archetypes.” Luna shook her head, and then looked directly at Celestia. “It was extremely difficult for me to read what was going on. These were not dreams. Dreams are a replay of memories, thoughts, feelings. A psychic cleaning house. Not here, sister. This place had an insane, ancient depth that should be impossible. He… Lero isn't hundreds of millions of years old!”

Luna gritted her teeth and stomped her hoof, looking away. Celestia remained still.

“I thought it was a type of a dreamscape, but when he awoke, the place did not dissolve. It is still there.”

Luna closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Celestia moved next to her sister and draped her with a wing.

“Luna, this is far beyond anything I've ever heard. I would never have imagined another consciousness layer underneath a consciousness layer. I've never even heard of such a thing.”

“Nor I, sister. As far as we know, no species on this planet has this, though our knowledge of dragon psychology is woefully inadequate. These archetypes are ancient, sister. Remembering some of his equ… anthropology lessons, this place is older than even his species.”

“I wonder,” Celestia said, “if this is somehow related to humans not having magic. They obviously wouldn't have a magicae mundi to collect psychic residues, so I wonder if this serves the same function. However, because there is no magic in his world, then the threat of phantoms stalking the night is impossible. If that's the case, then why would such a thing exist at all? I assume Lero isn't the only being of his people with this place inside his head.”

“I assume the same, sister. Perhaps this psychic layer is something all humans have. A sort of… collective unconscious. I couldn't begin to imagine what the point of such a place would be, however. I wonder if it is some sort of psychic vestigial organ, no longer needed but still functioning.”

“We should ask him,” Celestia said. “He’s well educated, and he may be able to explain it.”

“Certainly,” Luna said. There was a slight hesitation, a mere dip in her voice, and Celestia caught it.

Without waiting to be prompted to speak, Luna said, “This is perhaps fear of the unknown, sister, or mere paranoia, but when I left his collective unconscious, I felt as if something had followed me.”

“Followed you?”

“Outside. I've since sent spies and magic sensitives to Ponyville, though none have noticed anything.”

“Well, why would something from inside his head, not even truly alive, follow you?”

“That’s what I thought as well. Really, there’s so little we know about how magic affects Lero. He is not a magical creature, but magic seems to have the same effect on him as it does on anypony, at least on the surface. But how would prolonged magic affect him? What cumulative effects would crop up, unnoticed, until too late?”

Celestia’s answer was a grim frown. “I hate to drag this out again, but how do you know this isn't a trap planted by his former captors?”

“Oh, I can easily recognize the sad whoredom of their art,” Luna said, stiffly. “This place, despite its terrifying aspect, had a deep beauty, completely unlike the boring, banal perfection they try to pass as beauty. They mistake mathematical precision as perfection, and so are unable to understand the soul of art. They will never be able to grasp this because of the syphilis driving their brains.”

“Luna-”

“In fact, they have lived so long with syphilis that it has altered their very bodies. They are so crooked that the males of their degenerate species can only enter the female’s vagina – which, as we all know, is like pulling apart two slices of melted cheese – they can only engage in sex by using a corkscrew motion. The males have to completely rotate their bodies, in midair, in order to even achieve full penetration.”

Celestia cleared her throat. “Luna-”

“The obvious inferiority of their putrid intellect is like a dead fish in the moonlight; it shines and stinks.”

Celestia waited in the silence. Then she said, “Are you finished?”

“They only exist because the universe forgot to wipe. You understand, sister? They are of such a magnitude of defilement that they cannot even qualify as shite – merely shite’s afterbirth.”

“I can’t help but admire the depth of your hatred and contempt,” Celestia said, “although I do wish you wouldn't express it in such deranged terms.”

A guard entered the garden and announced that the emergency session was about to start. The princesses thanked him, and made their way to the Sejm.

After forgoing debate, the Sejm opened the emergency provision bill to a vote. While the legislators delivered their secret ballots, chamber music was provided by the famous concert cellist Octavia, who had chosen a soothing classical piece to perform. After the vote had been tallied (unanimous, in favor), Luna and Celestia approached Octavia and thanked her for providing music at such last minute notice. Afterwards, Luna and Celestia made their way to the Self Defense Force conference room, using the private stairs.

“I detest the prudery of this age, sister,” Luna said, causing a secret smile to spread to Celestia’s lips.

“I didn’t realize you were so sexually frustrated,” Celestia said, leading the way up the stairs.

“I’m not. I simply hate having to comport myself as a skulking servant, sneaking into the chambers of his mistresses. It’s undignified.”

“Delightfully progressive simile, Luna.”

“Thank... ah, that was sarcasm. Glorious.”

Luna carried on. “In the old days, I simply had to open the door of my boudoir, and have a dalliance with whatever pony or ponies entered my chamber. Now I must be coy and sly, and determine interest, and navigate a host of complicated emotional dross simply to perform coitus. Most distressing. I blame you, of course.”

“Of course.”

“So goes the leader, so follows the nation. I’ve studied it. The mores changed when you refused to take lovers. Sex became private and secret, as if it was something dirty to be hidden. It became about romance instead of being for its own sake.”

“We’re here,” Celestia said, as she exited the stairwell.

“I plan on attacking modern mores, of course. My first strike, the shock troops if you will, will be to reinstitute primae noctis.”

Celestia stopped. She turned around to face Luna. “That would be a terrible idea.”

“Is it?”

“You know its history, why we banned it when we took power. I can’t-” Celestia deflated when she saw the smirk entering Luna’s lips. “You were joking. Of course.”

“Of course. How boring it would be to coach disinterested nobles. I’ll pass.”

Celestia shook her head, composed herself, and entered the conference room.

Of all the conference rooms, the Self Defense Force’s was the most plain. There were no pictures on the wall, not even the stereotypical recruitment posters that populated military recruitment offices. This was also the only conference room with no windows, positioned as it was in the center of the castle.

What the room did have was possibly the sturdiest table in the castle. On it was a simple map with basic descriptions of hills and grass. Square bits of colored cardboard, stuffed with numbers and simple drawings of soldiers, dotted its surface. Surrounding the table were general Cake Dancer, three members of her staff, and Twilight Sparkle with Lero behind her.

“-which should explain the functions of the Combat Results Table,” Twilight Sparkle said.

“Interesting discourse on risk management,” general Cake Dancer said. “It certainly explains why a ten sided die is used. But why is the map broken into hexagons instead of squares?”

“It’s in hexagons because it measures movement, not distance.” With a flash of her horn, Twilight Sparkle levitated one of the counters and pointed at a white number in a black box. “This earth pony peltast has 4 movement points, so, in one turn, it can move four hexagons on perfectly flat land. You’ll have to check the terrain effects chart to determine its movement over other features. Now, if this map was broken into squares, then the distance from the center of this unit’s starting square to the center of a square diagonal to it is one half times longer than the distance to a square that is horizontal or vertical to the starting square. This would completely throw off the movement point value.”

“So it’s broken into hexagons so the units always move the exact same distance, regardless of direction,” the general said. “Interesting!”

Celestia was glad to see her general’s reaction. She already knew about this ‘consim’, as Twilight called it, from a detailed letter and rules explanation she had sent her. Celestia intuited its simulation value as a tool to teach commanding officers military history and tactical thinking.

“An oblique formation,” Luna said, as she surveyed the map. “This is the Battle of Stonefly. Interesting choice.”

“I chose that one because of its similarity to an important historical battle in my world,” Lero said. “The Battle of Leuctra. I’m constantly amazed by historical similarities between our worlds.”

“As am I,” Celestia said. She paused, and turned to general Cake Dancer and her staff. “Please pardon my interruption.”

“No interruption, your highness,” Cake Dancer said. “I’ve already decided to use this system to teach ancient battles to my command staff. That it’s adaptable to other battles of the same era is a great bonus. I’d love to recreate the Battle of the Long Run.”

“And with some fiddling, it could be adapted to modern military theory,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Lero and I are currently working on a model right now.”

Celestia noticed Lero’s pained expression. He quickly smoothed his face into neutrality. A quick glance at Luna confirmed that she had seen it as well.

“Oh, it was a sight-seeing tour,” Dash said, as she reached for a breadstick. Dash, her herd, and the princesses ate an early supper in the royal kitchen’s dining table. The grand dining hall was used for formal occasions, such as entertaining foreign dignitaries and politicians. This smaller table, shoved up in the back of the kitchen, was for friends. “She showed me her old stomping grounds. Emphasis on stomp.”

“Girls!” Twilight said. “Surely you didn't-”

“Calm down Twilight, nothing like that happened,” Dash said. “She just showed me around the old neighborhood, and that jar where the diamond dog philosopher lived.”

“Dogenes,” Lyra said. “The founder of irrationalism.”

“Ah, dear Dogenes,” Celestia said, her eyes misting with memory. “His criticism of the state while I was in self-exile was absolutely crucial in bringing me out into public again. I only wish I had done so sooner.”

“No need for regret, sister,” Luna said, as she rubbed one wing across her sister’s back.

“I read some of his work,” Lero said. “Lyra loaned it to me. His defense of the ad equinem fallacy was… interesting, to say the least.”

Lyra smiled. “He called it a truism.”

“Ah yes, he was an interesting canine,” Celestia said. “Let’s see… ‘In this era of debased politics and bought ponies, personal attacks are the only true ideals we have left, and the only response our rulers deserve.’ Something along those lines.”

“Well, it was neat,” Dash said. “Don’t say anything, Twilight.”

“Not me,” Twilight said, fixing herself with a saint-like look.

“I mean, this old jar, over a thousand years old, and then there’s this newer neighborhood built around it.”

“I had it declared a national monument,” Celestia said. “No one will disturb it as long as I’m here. I had to leave it off the registry as a compromise, though.”

The waiters brought out the pony equivalent of a Cobb salad. All gathered served themselves, and ate with relish and conversation.

“Lero? Are you well?” Celestia asked.

“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Lero said. He had loosened his tie, taken off his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. “I’m a little warm, but I’m okay otherwise.”

“Open a window, please,” Celestia said to one of the waiters, who nodded and did what she was told.

“Mr. Lero,” Luna said, “are you having some trouble with your conscience?”

“His conscience?” Twilight said, looking at her husband’s face. “Why would he have trouble with that?”

“Keeping secrets, eh?” Dash said with a wink.

“Well… it has to do with introducing our game. It’s silly.”

“Not at all,” Celestia said. “We don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“What’s all this about?” Twilight said, looking between Lero and Celestia.

“I had some negative feelings about introducing our little game to the military staff,” Lero said. “Some, um, misplaced pacifist feelings.”

“Not misplaced at all,” Celestia said. “You are right to feel worried about helping an organization designed for the purpose of killing. I can only assure you that your trust in us is not misplaced.”

“Thank you, Celestia. I already knew all that, but the feelings come up anyway.” He smiled and took a drink of water. “It feels like hubris, a little. I mean, it’s not like I’m introducing some weapon of mass destruction. Just a game.”

“Your game, from what I have read from Sparkle’s letter and seen firsthoof, will prove quite useful in teaching tactical thinking,” Luna said. “Don’t deride it because of its little nature.”

“Sure,” Lero said with a slight nod. “I thank you for helping hash out my feelings.”

“You’re welcome,” Luna said. “It is always a pleasure to help out a friend.”

“Hold on,” Rainbow said, “help out what? When was this?”

“Well, some nights ago, Luna helped me in a dream-”

“Whoa,” Rainbow said, “you went in his dream?”

“He invited me,” Luna said. “It is not my custom to go where I am not wanted.”

Port was served. A lot of port.

“Dream sequences are garbage,” Lero said, and Twilight gasped.

“You take that back!” She broke into giggles.

“Hey, you’re talking about the newest Daring Do novel, aren't you?” Rainbow said, sloshing some port onto the table.

“Ah,” Luna said with a sniff. “Genre fiction.”

“I share the same sentiment,” Lyra said. “I’m not good with escapism.”

“But that Still Way mumbo-jumbo is escapism!” Dash said.

“Accepting reality isn't escapism,” Lyra said with a grin.

“Dream sequences are cheap methods to push outré ideas without actually having to weave them into the narrative. The biggest excesses of style take place in those. The worst are when they’re used as foreshadowing, which not only makes them annoying, but cheap. It’s like the writer doesn't know how to properly use the tools of storytelling, so he shoves...” Lero trailed off, as confusion entered his face.

“Lero?” Twilight asked. She giggled.

Lero drooped. “Ladies, I’m truly sorry. I don’t know why I’m going on about this. I’m just embarrassing myself.”

“But my dear, you've done nothing wrong!” Celestia said. “It’s wonderful to listen to you have a strong opinion about something. Frankly, I think we should get alcohol in you more often.”

"Indeed," Luna said. "The most interesting Trottingham accent appears."

“Well, I’d hate to offend anyone,” Lero said.

“Dude," Dash said, "that’s never going to happen. Goofus.”

Lero smiled and took Dash’s hoof. The looked into each other’s eyes, and all assembled saw that they had gone to that secret place shared in each other’s heart, the place built from love and trust, where the outside world could never invade.

They broke the gaze, and Lero wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?”

Lero awoke.

He didn't even let out the gasp that welled up in him, a breath of bitter sadness. When he was sure he could control himself, he gently moved out from under the wing blanketing his body and the hoof holding his chest. He was grateful for the sturdy construction of the bed; he didn't have to worry about squeaks waking the princess.

He rolled out of bed, stepping over his pile of clothes and Celestia’s regalia before heading toward the oriel window, where he laid his head on the cool glass and stared out into the courtyard, where the night lay heavy on leaves and petals, and where the moon shed loneliness on every blade of grass.

Dash was his favorite, his true love, his special somepony. He could go for long periods without acknowledging it, but this night, with memories and emotions raw after his dream, his feelings strode to the front of his brain like a soldier, demanding the honor of bearing her colors. His body trembled, and he let out long, slow, controlled breaths to keep from sobbing.

Dash was his favorite. He knew this, and after knowing it, guilt followed. He felt guilt toward the long deceased Lyra, his gentle breeze, who loved him more than he deserved, who loved him more than he gave back. He wondered why he couldn't think of Lyra on her own, reminisce about her as she was, playful and wise, wondered why he couldn't bring to mind those special, private moments he knew they shared. Lyra only ever played at the fringe of his memories of Rainbow Dash. Dash was always the center.

He felt guilt toward Twilight Sparkle, the sweet light of his life. He had spent the vast majority of his life with Twilight, their hearts had intertwined over the centuries like no other, but Dash was the song of his soul.

He felt guilt toward Celestia, the lover he never thought he’d have, who had lost more than he could imagine, and who gave him great comfort in his own loss. That he couldn't be as serene and gentle as her felt not just like a failure of personality, but an insult to this wise ruler who gave her loving heart and listening ear so simply to him.

Twilight, Lyra, and Celestia were forever in his heart, but Dash was his soul, and it had been ripped out of him. It had long ceased to be poetical nonsense to Lero, as the roaring cold emptiness in him would never be filled with warmth. His heart was full of love, but his soul was shattered.

So he stared at the purple skin of the night, slowly shut down all thought, breathing slowly, practicing the meditation somepony had taught him (was it Lyra? I can’t remember), looking into the long slow centuries ahead...

And woke up.

Lero saw the wooden seats of the train car and the blackness outside the window. He felt the vibration of the train and the hardness of the wooden seat he was on. The cold, howling emptiness inside him died down as he looked around, the dream fading away into the caverns of memory until it wasn't even a spark.

“Wide awake, big guy?” Dash said with a smile. She was sitting next to him. He could smell her spicy scent, like nutmeg and cardamom touched with cinnamon.

He reached out and grabbed Dash, pulling her against his body. She wrapped her wings and upper legs around him and hugged him back. She could feel the rise and fall of his body. He moved his face into her mane and kissed her neck, letting out a sigh.

“Hey,” Dash said. “Look at me.” Lero pulled back, and Dash studied his face. “You had a bad dream, huh?”

“Yeah,” Lero said, his voice choked with sleep. He coughed to clear his throat. “It’s gone now, though.” Across from his seat sat Lyra and Twilight Sparkle. He reached out toward Lyra, who hopped down and reared up so she could get her hooves around his neck. He held the back of her head, his thumb trailing her ear, and he leaned in to kiss her jaw line. He could feel her mouth widen into a smile, and he finished by planting a kiss on her lips.

He looked at Twilight. “Come on, Twi, there’s room.”

Twilight smiled and pushed between Dash and Lyra, pressing her hooves into his chest and throwing her wings around Lyra and Dash. Lero moved his hands so he could touch her spread wings, and kissed her soft, sweet mouth. Faces nuzzled into each other. No one wanted to ever let go.

An orchestral belch, gross like spoiled milk, came from the front of the car and broke the silence. Three heads (Lyra didn't bother) looked toward the sound, and saw a purple rump with a grape and strawberry cutie mark and a limp tail sticking out over the aisle. Dash scowled, and Twilight huffed. Glass hit the floor, and an empty Pinot noir bottle clattered across the aisle.

“I bet that was a mood killer,” Berry Punch said.