Today while I was helping clean out the old barn I found this cool journal. It was hidden under a hay bale. I dont know why it was there but I am glad it was. Mommy said I could keep it. She said I should write down what I think and feel inside and it will help me be more “stable.” I don’t know what that means. She also said I should write things about myself like what I like and what I dont like.

Now I will write some things about myself. I am Chestnut and I am an earth pony and I am eleven and Daddy says I am big for my age. I live on a corn farm. What I like are the Captain Equestria books and playing with my little cousin Honeysuckle. Sometimes she bites though. I dont like that. I also dont like timberwolves and my big brothers. Also bees. One stung me today and I squished it and that made me happy.

Most ponies who live on a corn farm are supposed to like corn but I dont. Corn pudding corn bread fried corn sweet corn cornonthecob I dont like any of it. Mommy says thats because I am “pretenchus.” I dont know what that means either.

I love Mommy but she can be “finniky” sometimes. That’s the word Daddy uses. I am pretty sure I know what that means. Like how shes always saying I am lazy because I dont like working in the field but she doesnt know that its not that I dont like working its that I dont like being bored. Whenever I work in the field I never think about corn like my brothers do I always think about Captain Equestria instead.

Captain Equestria is the best he is the most awesome fighter in all of Equestria! He protects all of the good civilans civilians from evil and I wanna be just like him when I grow up! Of course I know that he is not real but the sherriff is and the sherriff is just like him and maybe I can be the sherriff someday too. That would be much better than corn. Corn is boring.

I hope Mommy doesnt see that I wrote that because if she did she would get mad. Mommy thinks everypony looks down on us because we are corn farmers but I think that is silly because without us what would they eat? I think Mommy thinks I look down on us too but that doesnt make sense either because I am part of us.

I wish Dad would say something but he is always too tired. He is always tired these days from working in the fields and it seems like he works for longer every year. He is not as young as he used to be I think.

Now I hope Daddy doesnt read this either because if he saw that he would be mad. Maybe I should not write any more today. I will come back later.

I found this old journal again. I left it under my bed a couple of weeks after the first time I found it and forgot about it. It is a shame because I always meant to write in it every day. I like writing. It helps me think.

I do a lot of thinking these days. I think mostly when I am out working in the fields. Now that I am twelve years old I work a lot more. Dad says that normally ponies don’t work this much until they are a year or two older than me but I am so big now that I can work like my big brothers. I am almost as big as they are now. I like that because it means they can’t push me around any more.

Honeysuckle is getting bigger to too. Sometimes she follows me in the field when I work. I wish she could carry on a conversashin but mostly she just sort of says things. Still though it is better than when I work alone. Thats when I just have to think.

Normally when I am out these days I think about how the house is getting so crowded. We are having relatives move in. I had to move into a room with my brothers and Honeysuckle. I don’t like that but there is nothing anyone can do. The corn business is not so good these days and our relatives lost their land. Now they work helping us.

Dad says it will all work out in the end because having more ponies means we can have bigger fields and grow more crops. But I think he is bluffing. More ponies means more mouths to feed.

There are good things about them being here though. One of them brought his record player and now Mom can play her old records in the house. They always play piano music. I like the piano music. I wish I could play it for myself but I asked Mom and she said that we cant afford a piano right now. She said that maybe someday we can though. She says she likes the idea of me playing piano and that it is very “uptown.” I always thought “uptown” meant the same as “pretentious” but apparently not.

The piano is not the only good thing though! The other good thing is that having more ponies around means that there is less danger from timber wolves. There have been more of them around lately and we don’t know why but it is scary. The other day I found one in the cornfield. I was with one of my brothers though so we scared it away. Timber wolves can’t mess with us big earth ponies!

Sometimes I worry about Dad or Grandmother though. I don’t think they could fight a timber wolf. I hope that now that we have more ponies around that they won’t have to.

I have to go now because dinner is ready but before I go I will write one thing. That is that I met the sherriff sheriff today! I talked to him about becoming his deputy. He said that maybe I could when I got older. Mom said that would take too much time away from working with the corn.

Mom and I got into an argument about that. Now I have to work extra tomorrow. I still want to be a deputy though. Someday I will be. I am gonna be the best deputy ever!

“A Spider sewed at Night
Without a Light
Upon an Arc of White...
...Of Immortality
His Strategy
Was Physiognomy.”
-Emily Dickenson, A Spider Sewed at Night

He smiled and crossed his forelegs. In the stillness, he could hear them feeding, sucking away at their prey, nourishing themselves. His children were happy, hanging on their webs, engorged in blood. And that made him happy, too.

Oh... he thought. Still hungry... someone wants to grow big and deadly... I am sorry my dear but you’ll have to find it yourself, now. You will have to learn.

The tickling stopped. He imagined he could hear the tiny footsteps as the spider slunk away, back to his web.

Sorry, child, but you are old enough now that I should not have to help you...

He frowned. It was always a shame, to deny them their blood. He knew how mad he got, when Brother did the same to him. How he hissed and screamed when the contracts stopped flowing, when the prey stopped coming.

And how long had it been now, since he had last fed? Of course, he had eaten breakfast that morning, but he had not truly fed, not drank in the blood and suffering of a struggling victim, not felt that wonderful, bloating, engorged feeling since... when? The last contract had been weeks ago. Had it really been that long?

He trembled, hugging himself with his forehooves. Not this again, please not this again! It couldn’t be happening now, not so soon.

He slumped against the wall, eyes wide with terror. Around him, the spiders sensed his fear, and the floor crawled as they fled, skittering, back to him. He relaxed slightly as he felt their legs move over his skin, creeping through his fur, as they made their way up his body. His mane jerked and twitched as they swarmed into it, crouching against the flesh of his head and neck, comforting him.

The door to his room swung open, and he swung a forehoof over his eyes as the room brightened, revealing his bed, bookshelves, and desk. All of his furniture was covered in spiderwebs, some of which were occupied, others deserted in favor of Nephi’s mane.

“Can it,” he continued. “We’ve got a client coming. It’s Watcher. He said he’s got something important. Try to seem normal, just while he’s here. We wouldn’t want him taking his business elsewhere, would we?”

Nephi shook his head emphatically, a few orb weavers dropping out of his mane as he moved.

He turned and left, slamming the door behind, him, casting the room once more into darkness. Nephi gathered himself up and moved onto the bed. He sat, curled his long limbs around himself, and rocked back and forth, slowly. One by one, the spiders descended on silk strings from his mane, crawling away to sulk on their webs, and wait for fresh prey.

Watcher is back? Nephi wondered. Perhaps this time I will find out if he knows where Father is.

He smiled, again, thinking of his Father, and of how good his blood would taste. The look that would be in his eyes, as he died, staring at his freak son, the monster he had made. What would it be? Regret? Hatred? Pity? Nephi couldn’t wait to find out.

He pictured his Father, enmeshed in spiderwebs, thrashing, bleeding out slowly, one drop at a time. He pictured them splashing to the ground, coagulating on in the dirt before him.

This one for filing my teeth... He ran his tongue across the insides of his mouth, feeling where each tooth ended in a sharp point.

And this one—a torrent of blood splashing against his hooves—for bringing me Neith.

He cursed silently, thinking of the spider-sage. In his life, Neith had been a necromancer, born with the ability to communicate with, and control, arachnids of all types. Nephi’s father, a necromancer as well, had killed him, and stolen a fragment of his soul, which he entrapped in the body of his unborn son. He had intended for the strength of the spider sage to empower Nephi, to give him a talent for the arcane.

Neith’s soul malformed Nephi’s developing body, leaving him with long legs, bent unnaturally at the knee and elbow. Ultimately, he stood at the height of the average pony only because of his elongated cannons, as his knees bent so that his upper legs always ran parallel to the floor, and met his body at a perpendicular angle. Due to this malformation, Nephi could only walk by rotating his legs sideways at the shoulder, effectively crawling. Like a spider.

The malformations didn’t end there, though. Nephi’s metacarpal bones were also slightly elongated above the knee, creating protrusions which were layered with thick coats of keratin. They ended in sharp points, forming half-conical horns at the backs of his joints.

The knee spikes were perfect for drawing blood, but not for fitting in with other ponies, especially not here in Canterlot. The ponies here would be alarmed to find a zebra in their midst, let alone a freakish abomination of a pony. How could they? How could anypony look on him, an ugly, disgusting, soulless waste, a malformed, Celestia-forsaken demon of a—

Nephi stood slowly, and walked out of his room, squinting in the light of the cramped hallway outside his door. Brother stood at the end of the hallway, beckoning him into the kitchen. He followed obediently.

Nephi looked across the room to see a tall, slender unicorn with a dark grey coat and a set of piercing yellow eyes. He leaned against the wall, forehooves crossed, magically fiddling with a small matchbox. Nephi stared at him as he moved, watching him slide open the matchbook, pick out a match, draw it halfway out, and close the box on the stick. Watcher bent the match against the side of the box, rubbed the coating off of its head, then levitated both the match and the powdered coating back into the open matchbox.

Ritual finished, he tucked the matchbox away in a saddlebag pocket and looked up at Nephi. Nephi stared back. The other unicorn wrinkled his nose and ran a forehoof through his dark blue mane.

“This is him?” he asked. “The second-most highly rated assassin in Canterlot?”

“No,” Brother replied, smirking. “This is Nephis. The second-most highly rated assassin is a pegasus who lives on the other side of town. My brother here is the best there is.”

“Is that so?” Watcher asked. He looked from Brother to Nephis. “Looks more like an escaped circus performer to me,” he said with a sneer.

“Well, I’ve heard ponies say before that he would fit right in at a freak show. Usually what I hear after that is Nephis eating their intestines,” Brother said calmly.

Brother chuckled. “Nephis talks to me, his spiders, and his victims. That’s it.”

“I assure you, he’s quite mentally proficient. You’ll be pleased to know that what time he doesn’t spend killing or tending his pet spiders, he spends re-reading dueling books. I’d imagine he has most of them memorized by now.”

Watcher sat down at their kitchen table, and pulled four rolls of parchment out of his saddlebags. “Well,” he said, spreading them across the table. “You haven’t ever had a job like this.”

“Oh?” Brother asked. “We’ve worked with the Church before. Never with you, but in the past we were always their go-to for—”

“Yes, well, that was the past,” Watcher cut in. “In fact, you aren’t their go-to anymore, and, apparently, neither am I. And that’s precisely why I’m here.”

“There is a certain object the Church... retrieved, and its bearer, eliminated.”

“One of your targets, yes. The other,” Watcher said, sliding one of the four parchments across the table, “is this pony. The aforementioned ‘pegasus on the other side of town.’”

Brother opened the roll and gave it a cursory skim. “Yeah,” he said, “we know this guy. Why kill him?”

“No, your brother is who I’m sending. The Church didn’t see fit to let me handle this. I intend to prove them wrong.”

“Why have us kill their assassin, though? Why not just let us take out their target and bring back whatever it is you need?” Brother asked.

“Because they contracted the other assassin through somepony who is a bit of a rival of mine. I want to see him humiliated,” Watcher replied.

“The other assassin is set to strike tonight. I want you to track him down and kill him before he can make his move.”

“And then wait a day. Let the Church of the New Dawn come crawling back to me. Then, eliminate the primary target. I’ll take care of the retrieval, just get the target out of the way.”

Watcher slid another parchment across the table. “This unicorn. Summer Dew.”

Brother unrolled the paper, looking over its contents. “She dangerous?” he asked.

“From what I gather, she can handle herself,” Watcher said, “but she shouldn’t be too much trouble. It’s this one you have to worry about.” He handed Brother a third parchment.

Brother opened it, and his face darkened. “Chief,” he breathed. “Yeah, we remember him.”

“He’s her brother-in-law and business partner. They’re together often. You’ll want to try and take her out when he’s not around.”

“Obviously,” he said. He gestured to the fourth parchment. “And that? Who’s that?”

“Another associate. Her newest business partner, a pegasus named Roads. I wasn’t able to dig up much on him, besides that he’s the Warden of the Wilds.”

Nephi raised his eyebrows. Brother whistled. “He’s the one they’ve got running that place?” he asked. “He must be tough as hell.”

“Probably so, but then, if he were that dangerous, we’d have heard of him by now. In any case, use caution. Try to get her alone.”

“Of course not,” Watcher said, standing from the table. He turned to head out the door. “I’ve also seen her with three others, Willow, Redbud, and Aspen. I couldn’t find anything on them, I think they’re foreigners. In any case, they shouldn’t be too much trouble. Just kill them if they get in the way. I want no loose ends on this one.”

“I certainly hope so. But seeing Nephis doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence...”

“It’s not his skill that I question, Dusk Haven. It’s his motivation. He doesn’t seem like the type to want much in the way of money,” Watcher said slowly.

“Very well. In that case...” he said, turning to Nephi. “If you fail this, I’ll have your brother killed. Understand me, freak?”

Nephi didn’t fight it this time. In an instant, he was across the room, on top of Watcher, pinning him to the wall.

Watcher stared at him, completely unphased. “Don’t make me kill you,” he said calmly.

Nephi grabbed him by the back side of his mane, pulling Watcher’s head closer to his mouth.

Watcher just chuckled. He raised a hoof and pushed Nephi away. “Well,” he said, voice even. “Glad you finally decided to talk to me.” He turned to Brother. “Listen. The other assassin dies tonight. Got it?”

Without another word, Watcher turned, opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it behind him. Nephi turned to Brother, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

“Then I’m not in any danger. Don’t worry about it. Go back to your room and get prepared, I’ll be in here reading,” Brother said.

Nephi sighed and walked over to his bed. He dropped to a crouch and reached under the dust ruffle, pulling out the an ancient hoof mirror.

Nephi swallowed and angled the mirror towards his face. He winced as he caught sight of himself.

Nephi felt a surge of hatred and disgust rise within him as he stared himself down. He felt a twinge in the back of his neck, an instinctual need to turn away. He fought it. The punishment would be worse if he didn’t comply.

He opened his mouth, exposing his cracked, yellowing teeth, each worn to a fine point.

Nephi was shaking now, tears streaming down his face as he desperately tried to maintain eye contact with his reflected self.

Shaking with fear and anger, Nephis raised his left foreleg, and opened his mouth.

He bit down, hard. Pain exploded through his leg as his skin gave way, and a coppery, metallic taste filled his mouth. He moaned in anguish as his mouth filled with liquid, then swallowed.

He swallowed again, body relaxing, then fell back against the floor. A heavy euphoria washed over him as he let his forehoof fall away from him, still bleeding. It was over. It was going to be okay.

He pressed his good hoof to his eyes, still panting, trying to catch his breath.

_________________________________________________________

“What?” he asked, getting up off the couch and adjusting his skin-tight, jet black jumpsuit. “What’s going on?”

“The chimeras!” she sobbed, stumbling forward to fall into his outstretched forehooves. “They’re back!” She reached up and slipped a hoof behind his head, pulling him closer. “Oh, Roads,” she said, staring into his steely blue eyes as her other hoof worked its way down his strong jawline. “Only you can stop them! You’re the only one who’s strong enough!”

“I will stop them, Summer,” he said, brushing one stray lock of mane behind her delicate ear. “I swear, I’ll fight for you with every last breath, until my large, well-defined skeletal muscles give out.”

“Thank you. That’s probably why all of my books have become bestsellers, and why I’m so absurdly famous and powerful.”

“You’re right,” Summer said. “And maybe when you get back from saving the day, we can read them... together.” She flashed him a seductive look as he stood, headed for the door.

“Yes, hopefully we will,” he said, then turned away from her. “But as for now...” He pushed open the door. “I have a day to save.”

Roads stepped out the door. Behind him, Summer swooned and fainted, collapsing onto a well-placed cushion.

Outside, Roads stood, his back to the door, facing out at the woods around him. They were dark and roiling with fog, and between the trees, he could make out dark shapes flitting about, nearly unseen. The corner of his mouth tightened. This wouldn’t be too hard.

Reaching into his saddlebag, Roads pulled out his headband, and tied it around his forehead. He then reared and drew a long, slender katana. He stood, still and silent, as somewhere a flute played a somber, apprehensive melody.

He didn’t have to wait long. To his right, seemingly out of nowhere, a chimera wielding a pair of lengthy daggers appeared, and dashed towards him. It slashed at him with both knives, but Roads parried, then front-flipped over the chimera, tucking his katana under his foreleg. The blade, on the other side of his back, impaled the chimera as he landed.

Still, he didn’t get a chance to catch his breath. The fog around him grew thicker, and as it did, a hail of throwing knives emerged from the mist, headed right for him. He dodged the first two, just by moving his head an inch or two to the left, then snatched a third out of the air and used it to parry the oncoming knives.

Roads leapt into the air and felt himself rise high above the ground. From here, he could just barely make out his opponent. He threw the knife. A pained hiss emerged from the mist as the chimera fell, bleeding heavily from the neck.

Roads landed easily, then charged forward to find three more chimera, each armed with a hefty broadsword. One of them slashed at him, but he ducked under the strike, then leapt to the side as a second chimera attacked him. With a triple backflip, he tried to put some distance between himself and his attackers.

Then, spinning twice around, he launched his sword at one of them. A chimera fell the the ground, beheaded, Roads’ katana next to it. The remaining two charged him, hoping to destroy him while he was unarmed. They found their attempts futile as Roads dodged every attack they threw at him. Finally, the chimera to his left grew frustrated, and stabbed at him desperately, completely overextending.

Roads sidestepped the attack, then darted forward and disarmed the chimera, taking its sword for himself. In a rapid movement, he slid away from his attacker, slicing his throat as he retreated. He leveled his sword at the last chimera.

With a shrug of the shoulders, Roads advanced on his enemy, twirling his blade in a series of elegant, masterful flourishes. The chimera slashed at him once, but Roads leapt over the attack, and, in a feat of acrobatic prowess, disemboweled the chimera in one fell swoop.

Roads’ words were cut off as the world gave a great shake, casting him to his knees.

The world heaved once more, throwing Roads into the air. He kept rising, wings flailing, until he could no longer see the ground. Then, suddenly, he was falling.

Roads opened his eyes to see Summer staring at him, a thin smile across her face. He looked around, realizing he was still in the hospital.

“Sure did,” he groaned, stretching luxuriously beneath his covers. Beside him, Summer hopped up onto the bed, laying down beside him. “What have you been—what is that?” he asked when he realized what he was looking at.

She shrugged. “Okay, so it’s an eyepatch. My eye doesn’t work any more, I got an eyepatch, what of it?”

“You look like some kind of pirate!” Roads said, barely suppressing his laughter.

To Roads, though, the scowl only made her look more swashbuckling. He burst into frantic giggling.

“Or—what?” he said between laughs. “You’ll—make me—walk the plank?”

Summer sighed and rolled her eye. “Fine, maybe it looks a little bit like a pirate’s eyepatch. But what am I supposed to do, walk around with a cursed eye, staring at ponies? I think I might freak somebody out.”

“There has to be a better solution than that. Maybe if you, like, brush your mane in front of it?”

Summer shook a few stray locks of mane down into her face, and pushed them over, in front of her eye. “How’s this?”

Roads frowned. “You kinda look like an amateur fashion model or something. Like you’re expecting somepony to burst in any minute, holding a camera.”

“I dunno how I’m supposed to be taking that,” she said. Roads shrugged. “Is there a mirror in here?” Summer asked.

Summer leaned over, checked her appearance, then sat back down, shaking her head. “Nope. Not for me.”

Summer pulled down the bandages at her sides, showing him the fresh scars from her wounds. “Do I look like I would do well in front of a camera?”

“As much as I would like to think it’s my feminine beauty shining through and obscuring where I got hacked to pieces, I think you’re just biased.”

“Oh, come on. You’re infatuated with me, Roads,” she teased. “Smitten.”

“Oh. Well, actually, not much, besides checking on Redbud,” Summer said. “It’s only nine.”

“I can and will call you that until you die. Once a spec, always a spec.”

“—of course. So, I’m walking down the hall, and I hear this loud, high pitched scream.”

“Yeah, right? And so I get closer, and I realize it’s coming from Redbud’s room. And so I throw open the door, you know, because what if it’s him dying in there or something?”

“Well, it turns out, it’s not even Redbud who’s screaming. It’s Aspen!”

“I’m getting there! So, I go in, and Aspen’s screaming his head off, standing on top of a chair, pointing, grabbing Willow, screaming ‘Kill it! Kill it!’ and I look over to where he’s pointing...”

“What? Oh, sorry. It’s something my dad used to say. It’s like calling someone an idiot, but, uh, nicer. You know, geese are dumb, you’re dumb, it’s an apt comparison.”

“Oh shut up. You shouldn’t have asked if I had them mixed up. It was Aspen. Aspen was screaming.”

Roads shrugged. “Alright. Fine. I just couldn’t see him doing that, is all.”

“He was. It was the craziest thing. Willow had to kill it for him. I didn’t even know Willow could kill things.”

“Maybe so. But it gets better. Turns out, all the screaming wakes Redbud up.”

“Alive and kicking. Actually, not just kicking. Full-on hitting on me, really.”

Behind him, Summer laughed. “Woah, easy tiger. Redbud can hit on who he wants to, I’m not taken.”

Roads’ brow furrowed. “Uh, I guess not. I just... don’t like competition.”

Summer rolled her eye. “‘Competition.’ I swear, you stallions are all the same.”

“What do I mean? I mean I’m not a prize to be won, Roads. I’m a pony. A pony who really just... doesn’t really do commitment. Is that what you want?”

“Yeah, really. I didn’t say I don’t do commitment because I wanted Redbud, I said I don’t do commitment because I don’t do commitment. You, Redbud, or anypony else. So, you can stop worrying about competition, or about relationships or, just... whatever. You know? Just stop worrying, Roads.”

Roads cocked an eyebrow. “I’d bet you would commit if you found the right pony.”

“Hey, hey, hey, I didn’t mean me. I just meant, like, in general. I just don’t think you’ve met the right pony yet.”

“I’ve met lots of ponies, Roads. None’ve’em have really done it for me yet. But hey,” she said, ruffling his mane. “Maybe you can be the first. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“You’re threatened, aren’t you? You didn’t listen to anything I just said, and you’re still thinking about competition.”

Summer frowned at him. “Well, for your information, he asked me out to dinner.”

“I said ‘no,’ of course!” She looked at him, exasperated. “He’s like ten years older than me, I’m not into him. Besides, I had other plans for tonight.”

Roads crossed his forehooves. “Ah, great,” he grumbled. “More competition.”

Roads blinked. “Oh,” he said with a cough. He rubbed idly at the blanket with one hoof. “Me, right. Well, uh, when? Where?”

“Well, if you’d stop being such a jealous blockhead, I was thinking maybe I could show up at your place at maybe eight-ish. Where are you staying?”

“The Princess said in her letter she had arranged quarters for me in the castle. I’m not sure which room, but I’m sure one of the attendants could tell me. And you, I guess.”

Summer nodded. “Alright then. I’ll drop by then, after I’m done with the Aggregate.”

“They’d better not be,” Summer said with a shrug. “Of the last four expeditions that left for that area, we’re the only one’s who’ve come back. Mostly because Chief and I are the best team they’ve got. Not to mention the fact that we came back with way more than they even sent us for.”

“You bet your flank I am. After a little bargaining and threatening, at least.”

“So, uh, you’ll get sent out again, then... Is there a possibility... I might end up having to come with you?”

“‘Having to?’ Not really. I think they got what they needed out of you, as far as ley lines go.”

“—But whatever happens, we’ll need some kind of naturalist. And they’ll want a recommendation from me for who they end up sending. And if I ‘highly recommend’ somepony, they go. The Aggregate knows better than to ignore me.”

Summer cocked an eyebrow, a smile forming around the edges of her mouth. “Well, Roads, I dunno. You’re huge screw-up and still pretty green... but you saved my flank on that island, probably twice over, and if you want to come, you’re welcome to. But only if you want to. I’m not gonna drag you anywhere if I owe you one.”

Summer rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t. Listen,” she said, turning towards the door, “I think I’m about to head out. I’ve got something to take care of before I meet my, uh, ‘bosses.’ You think about it, and let me know. It’ll probably be two weeks or so before I ship out again.”

“Good,” she said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “See you then.”

“Bye,” Roads said as she walked away, leaving him sitting on the bed, head spinning.

Do I—could I—actually want to go on another expedition? he wondered. Would I be able to handle it?

But... maybe he could. After going days in the jungle with little food or shelter, heavily wounded; after spending a night in Princess’ pit; after living through a civil war, the prospect of a normal expedition seemed relatively tolerable. And it was less lonely than working in the woods. Probably more exciting, too.

And he would get to work with Summer, though he wasn’t sure what to make of her at the moment. All that about being “taken” and “committed”... if she liked him, why was that such a bad thing? He didn’t get it. After all, he liked her, and he was pretty open to the idea of commitment, so surely if she felt the same way, she would be just as open.

Obviously, she didn’t. But why date him if she didn’t like him? Was she just messing with his head, some kind of strange test or lesson or confidence booster? That didn’t really seem like her.

Could she be just killing time with him, waiting for somepony better to come along? Roads’ stomach sank as he considered the possibility that Summer thought of him as merely good enough to date, but not worth staying with. Just... filler. He hoped that wasn’t the case.

Maybe she just wasn’t sure what she felt for him. Perhaps this was all leading to some sort of confirmation for her feelings, he just had to wait until they were strong enough. Until she was sure.

That made sense. Eventually she’d like him, and that would lead to something. Or not. That was usually his luck, after all. He really didn’t meet many mares, and the ones he did, never seemed interested in him.

Would this be his only shot for a while? He hoped not. That seemed awfully desperate. And more than a bit pathetic.

Just as he began to consider the prospect more fully, the door swung open and a courier pony walked into his room.

The courier took a minute to rummage through his bag, then pulled out a letter bearing the Royal Seal and handed it to Roads. “That’s for you,” he said. “From the Princess herself.”

“Thanks,” Roads replied, tearing the envelope open and pulling out the message.

I have something of great importance to speak with you about tonight. Unfortunately, this matter is best kept private; as such, I cannot discuss the details until you've arrived. Please meet me in my study tonight at six-o’clock.

P.S. It would be best not to speak to anypony of this message, or of our meeting.

Huh. Well, that was strange. Roads couldn’t imagine what Princess Celestia was so concerned about, or why it needed to be kept secret.

Still, I’d better just go with it. The Princess works in strange ways, but she always has her reasons. I just can’t wait to find out what’s going on, he thought. Turning over, he rolled out of bed. He stifled a yawn and stretched his shoulders, and turned to leave. There was much to be done today.

Stories of a Warden

by Rosencranz

XVI