//------------------------------// // Chapter 13 // Story: Empress Rarity's 250th Birthday // by Lord-Commander //------------------------------// "Thank you for the escort, Lieutenant," said Sapphire as the two ponies approached the doors to the Imperial Suite. “It’s been… enlightening.” "Yeah, likewise," said Silver Dash nervously as the pair stopped at the Empress’ Royal Suite. “You, ah… you sure you won’t tell the Empress about all th—” Sapphire smiled up at her. “I promised, didn’t I?” “Yeah. You did.” Dash’s eyes shot around the hall, looking for eavesdroppers, before lowering her voice to a whisper. “I guess I’ve just got trust issues, you know? I mean, Blueblood promised a lot and look where that got me.” “Mmm,” offered Sapphire sympathetically, matching the other mare’s volume. “Trust is hard won and easily lost, but I must ask you to hope beyond hope. Can I count on you to collect information on whatever it is Blueblood is planning?” Silver Dash cocked an eyebrow as she hovered in the air. “Yeah, sure I… Wait, you think he’s planning something?” Sapphire looked back at her. “Of course I do. He’s got ‘villain’ written all over him.” “Huh. And all this time I just figured he was a jerk. I’ll let you know what I dig up,” said Silver Dash as she turned with a salute and shot back down the hallway. Sapphire waved until Silver Dash had disappeared from view before turning to face her next task, which was an eagerly awaited one. Here, at last, she was going to find out why Rarity hated her own birthday. Deep down, as Princess Luna, Sapphire felt like she should have known this by now. She was still more than a little frustrated she hadn’t picked up on it before this morning when Chef Cake mentioned it. How many of her birthdays have I been present for? she wondered. The number that came to mind was frustratingly small. She came to a stop in front of the twin doors that lead into the Royal Suite, left slightly ajar. Sapphire’s face was taut, but otherwise neutral. Inside, however, her thoughts swirled around all at once, fighting for priority in her mind. The centuries long work of keeping out of the spotlight. A nagging sense of foreboding, unaffected by Sombra’s defeat within Rarity. World peace. Silver Dash and her mother. Blueblood and whatever game he was playing at. The coming musical disaster that was sure to be DJ_MPEG at tonight’s party. Seeing her sister again. She closed her eyes and exhaled, trying to center herself. To remember that in the here and now, she was Merry Sapphire. She was Rarity’s seneschal, a glorified secretary. Nothing more. She inhaled and caught the faintest hint of spiced chrysanthemum from beyond the door. She was instantly swept away. The scent was long forgotten but unmistakable, like the face of an old friend in a faded portrait. Memories crashed over her waring thoughts, and silenced them at once, like an avalanche of petals. It was the smell of picnics in late spring. It was the smell of Sweetie Belle’s debut at the Grand Ol’ Hopry. She gasped at the thrill of it, seeing the crowd roar in her mind’s eye. The pride in Rarity’s smile. How the fledgling monarch’s hoof trembled in her own as Rarity fought to maintain her composure in their VIP booth. It was the perfume of private moon viewings on a cloud of silk in a dream for two. “It would be so easy, wouldn’t it?” she asked the floor. “To walk in there and tell her who I am? To tell her what I want? So easy.” She frowned, remembering her sister’s words from some two centuries back, and oft’ repeated. We’re doing this because nopony else can, Lulu. It will be hard, but it will be worth it. For us. For everypony. With a sigh, she exhaled the heady aroma and strengthened her resolve. Once again, she was Merry Sapphire, a lady-in-waiting for Empress Rarity. Her friend. And for the sake of the world, the two of them could be nothing more. She knocked on the door. "Empress?" Merry called out as she pulled the right door open wide enough to slide into the bedroom. "My Lady?" Clearly, the maids had been about their business. The room was immaculate, as always, and a set of light blue silk pajamas had been laid out on the expertly made bed. A small chocolate mint, wrapped in brightly colored wax paper, sat in the slight indent in the middle of the body length red pillow at the top of the bed. The floors were expertly buffed and sparkled in the reflection of the late afternoon sun. Everything had a place and order was the order of the day. And yet, there was no sign of the Empress, save for the scent that still lingered in Sapphire’s nostrils. "My Lady, are you here?" called out Sapphire, a bit louder this time. The only reply was the vibrant echo of her voice off the white marble walls. Panic crept in as she trotted deeper into the room and a cold breeze played across her mane. She eyed the three huge windows on the western walls, noticing that the center one was wide open. "Rarity?!" she called in earnest, rushing over and peering down into the inner courtyard below, shaded as it was by the palace’s bulwark. Finally, she heard a reply. "I'm back here, darling," said Rarity from somewhere back in the suite. "Where!?" called Sapphire, spinning in place and releasing the breath she’d been holding. "Back here in the office,” came the muffled reply. Sapphire readied herself as best she could and trotted over to the office’s door. Carefully nudging it open, she entered with a smile. ‘Office’ wasn’t really the right word for the space that lay before Sapphire. An office would be something you stack papers and unused books in. Maybe a day bed for guests, or a set of old golf clubs resting beside a desk. But this was no mere office. The room was elegantly furnished in dark wood and gold inlay. The rich violet of the wall-to-wall textured saxony carpet still retained the Empress’ trademarked stylized R at its center despite centuries of use. The entirety of the northeastern wall was custom drawers of every size with mirror facings. The result was a mirrored wall, along which any point could be opened to reveal storage for a variety of items, knick knacks, bobbles, mementos, and royal trinkets. If the Empress’ treasures could be measured in their sentimental value, the contents of this wall alone would be a horde worthy of the world’s oldest dragons. The leftmost ten feet or so of drawers, in all their various sizes and shapes, contained fabric. Arranged first by season, then by style, and finally color. Dressforms stood on display in regular four foot intervals along the wall, each one wearing one of the Empress’ finest creations, every one of them moth bitten and covered in dust. The center of the room, beside a drafting table and on a raised stage all its own, held a single dressform, naked save for the Empress’ elaborate battle armor, worn twice a year for military ceremonies. It stood proud, with a fore hoof held up as it was marching off to victory. Against the southwest wall, lining a half opened door, sat clearly labeled cases, hatboxes, and steamer trunks. All of them clean and recently dusted, just as everything in the room had been, save for the tattered and threadbear outfits upon the dressforms that lined the opposite wall. A pair of dark iron staircases lined the wall between these two contrasts, leading up to the second floor which held the Empress’ various regalias and crowns, her walk-in ‘closet’, and a Princess’ ransom in mundane treasures. “Empress? I—” A soft crunch underneath her hoof robbed Sapphire’s attention. She stepped back, only to smile when she recognized the hayburger wrapper under her hoof. Sapphire looked up and found a small trail of them leading into Rarity’s most private sanctum. Her Inspiration Room. Sapphire knocked twice before pushing the door open the rest of the way. It looked like Rarity had taken the room straight out of the Carousel Boutique in Ponyville, circa some two hundred years prior. The room was piled high with unfurled rolls of cloth, work tables covered in thread, chalk, and cutting implements. A wastebin full of crumpled sketches was propped haphazardly against an old drawing desk at the center of it all. Newspaper clippings were flung about a stack of fashion books with pouty mares wearing too much mascara on their covers. A stack was used to prop the table up above the organized chaos all around it. Resting in a sea of fabric, like some deserted artifact sinking below the sand, sat a very familiar red sewing machine. In the only spot of the room clear of clutter stood a dusty dressform, still wearing an unfinished number whose threads Sapphire knew were older than Commander Onyx by a generation. The last of the hayburger wrappers sat at the foot of a large and elaborate gem encrusted fainting couch. The heap of blankets draped across it stirred gently as Sapphire came closer. “My... Lady?” “Hello, Sapphire,” replied the blankets. “How was the parade?” “It was… fine,” she said haltingly, trying to guess at the Empress’ intent. “Fine?” The blankets shifted until a small opening appeared and a pair of blue eyes shone through the darkness, looking at her. Through her. “Fine my fanny, I could hear it from here while I was trying to sleep. Hay, I could feel it from here. Even in my sleep. Now tell me truly. How was the parade?” “It was fantastic,” sighed Sapphire with a grin she could not hide. “Oh it was so good, Your Highness. Everypony was so excited to see m— you. We had all sorts of floats and performers there too: a band, fire jugglers, Silver Dash lead a fly by team that did aerial tricks, the Cutie Mark Crusaders had a float, an— Oh I almost forgot!” Sapphire slid off her saddlebags and begun digging through them. Severus hopped out and gave an angry bark at the disturbance before scurrying away. A few books passed overhead next, followed by a faux whip, and then the Platinum Crown which was caught in the blue aura of Rarity’s magic and carefully placed on top of the pile of blankets. The blankets shifted slightly as Rarity wormed her head out to get a peek at what Sapphire was doing. “Sapphire, what are y—” “Here it is!” announced Sapphire as she half turned with a giant envelope. “It’s from the Crusaders.” Sapphire felt magic take hold of the envelope, gently pulling it from her grasp as it crossed the space between the two, and opened itself mid-flight.. It was a giant card, hoofmade by the look of it, that read ‘Happy Birthday’ across the front with a drawing of Rarity, a few macaroni ‘gems’ dyed and glued on and sweet little messages and signatures written within. “Oh,” she nickered. “Those little darlings.” "Yeah, they were pretty excited when they gave it to me. A little sad that I didn’t open it in front of them, but…” “I’ll have to make it up to them,” replied Rarity. The blankets shifted and slumped as she pulled herself out of her makeshift den and sat up. “I know just where to put this.” “It looks like you’re doing better,” said Sapphire as she glanced down at the last of the hayburger wrappers at Rarity’s hooves. “Eating well too.” Her sass earned her a huff and a brief scowl from her employer, but both were gone in a flash. “Yes, I sent one of Onyx’s watch dogs to get me something of actual substance and flavor to eat. Not that garbage Dr. Groans had me on.” Rarity used her magic to retrieve a pair of pushpins and proceeded to pin the card to the wall beside others. “But I am feeling much better. And I suppose my magic is back, at least for the most part. Still,” she said with a chuckle, “I probably won’t be up saving the world again any time soon.” Sapphire nodded in agreement, unseen by Rarity, as she started packing her saddlebags once more. The sound of the Empress rising to her hoofs drew Merry’s attention once more, and she turned to see Rarity approaching the lone dressform in the room. “Oh, are you designing again?” Sapphire asked, hope kindled within her chest. “Hmm? Ohh, this?” asked Rarity as she walked over to it. A frown crossed her face as she saw the state of the fabric. “This is… This was supposed to be a dress for Twilight for her birthday, quite some time ago. I started it… Gosh, was it truly half a century ago?” “Half a century? Fifty years?!” Sapphire asked, playing along. “Yes, well,” said Rarity with a sigh. A few papers levitated over to Sapphire, showing her the variations of what the finished dress could look like. All of them, to a one, ended in a mad scribble, tearing across the page. “My inspiration, it seems, dried up years ago,” she said with a frown. “What makes you say that?” Rarity turned and smiled at her. “Sapphire, if you could live forever, what would you do?” Sapphire laughed nervously, breaking eye contact. “Ha-hay now! Come on, I asked you a question first.” Rarity raised an eyebrow at that, but acquiesced. “I have not lived forever, but I have lived for a long time. And my responsibilities have changed, even though my passions have not.” She looked around the room before continuing. “I don’t think I was meant to live forever, Sapphire. I stumbled into this. Before, I was just a normal girl with everyday dreams of ruling a fashion empire, and here I am hundreds of years later ruling an actual empire. I wanted my dresses to dazzle. My pleats to pop, and… well, they did,” she said wistfully. “Oh, how they did.” “But with each creation the bar was raised, and I was the one raising it. Over and over again. To impossible heights, and beyond! But now? Where is there to go? This took me a year to design!” she said, pointing to the half-finished creation on the dressform. “A year! I remember back in Ponyville, I used to knock out a whole season’s worth of designs on a napkin over a glass of wine!” Rarity stomped over to her drawing desk and pulled out a stack of design sketches, each one scribbled out. “What do I have to look forward to beyond more wasted time as I try to design a single dress? A single belt? Or a single button, for Luna’s sake!” she huffed and pushed the dressform over with a thud. Sapphire felt her eye twitch, not at the sound of the dressform, but the way her name was used. An uneasy silence briefly filled the room before Rarity started up again. “And when would I find that time? Before lunch? After the Crystal Council meeting? Or perhaps during the wee small hours of the morning? Every time I’ve found a moment to myself, it’s immediately filled with something.’” “But...” offered Sapphire. “So that’s just it then, isn’t it?” Rarity said forlornly, looking at the prone dressform. “The longer I live, the harder each creation will be to perfect. And as long as I’m the Crystal Empress, I’ll have increasingly less time to pursue my craft.” Sapphire sat in silence. A hard silence. Not long ago, as far as Alicorn reckoning goes, she remembered having an eerily similar conversation with Celestia. A conversation that ultimately lead Rarity to where she is today, and her mouth was bitter with the regret of her own selfishness. “I could,” she started, swallowing her true intentions. “...I could help?” “You could help?” asked Rarity, turning to smile at her seneschal. “Oh, sweet Sapphire, how could you possibly help?” “Well… What if I freed up more time for you on The Schedule? Or you could delegate some duties to me. Or somepony else; it doesn’t have to be me. Maybe the council?” Rarity huffed while rolling her eyes. “Ugh, the Crystal Council doesn’t need any more power. They wouldn’t know what to do with it after they gave themselves a raise and fancy new titles. Although…” she finished with a tip of her chin, “I do like the idea of freeing up time in the schedule. It would be a nice first step, to be certain.” Sapphire smiled. “Great! I’ll get to work right away.” She whipped The Schedule out of her bag and flipped it to tomorrow. “Maybe in your new free time you can find the inspiration to finish Princess Twilight Sparkle’s dress before she returns to Equestria.” Rarity chuckled grimly as she pulled the dressform back up off the pile and stood it on its base. “That’s not going to happen.” Sapphire’s ears drooped. “Well, I mean… It could, right?” Rarity walked around the dress, eyeing it with visible disdain. “Well, I fear that Twilight and I haven’t seen each other for quite a while. She hasn't written to me in some time and… Well, I haven’t written to her in just as long.” “What happened?” asked Sapphire. “Oh, life, I’m sure. My responsibilities got in the way. I made new ‘friends’ here in the Empire. But they all… Well, never mind. I’m sure the story’s the same in Canterlot.” “So… The two of you didn’t make the effort to maintain your friendship?” Rarity pouted at her. “Well to put it bluntly, I suppose that is the case, yes. But I assure you that it’s more complicated than that, Sapphire. Friendship is like a flower; it blooms if nurtured, but will wither without constant attention. They’re like any sort of relationship. They require cultivation, effort, contact frequency in order to survive.” “But your friendship activated the Elements of Harmony!” protested Lady Sapphire. “It defeated Nightmare Moon, stopped Discord, and saved Equestria so many times!” Rarity nodded, slowly, again looking at Sapphire askance. “Where did you hear of the Elements of Harmony? Or Nightmare Moon?” “Uh. I, uh… Oh! I checked out the friendship journal from the Crystal Archives. Quick Name recommended it.” Rarity, apparently satisfied, shrugged the explanation off. “Look, I’m not saying friendships aren’t powerful, darling. But friendship itself isn’t invincible. It can be strained by distance, weakened by arguments, lost to time as visits become less and less frequent. Sometimes destroyed completely by something as simple and pedestrian as laziness. Surely you yourself have had this happen to you? Are you still friends with the ponies of your youth?” Sapphire began to open her mouth in protest, but closed it when she realized she was looking at one such lost friend right now. “Can friendship be resurrected? Can it be saved?” “I’d like to think so,” said Rarity, brushing her mane out of her eyes. Sapphire smiled softly at that. “So for you and Twilight—” “As I said, Sapphire, that is complicated,” replied Rarity. “Time and companionship would help fix that, but we’ve got other issues that need to be addressed. Bigger, national security level issues. The sort of thing that, even if we were the best of friends again, would still require negotiators and experts in several fields on both sides of the table.” “Well, there is a big fancy party tonight,” said Sapphire. “Maybe that could help get you two on the right track again?” “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” replied Rarity as she walked through the pile in her Inspiration room, back into the Office proper. “Even if tonight goes flawlessly, and I do mean flawlessly, she and I still have quite the bumpy road ahead of us.” “So… What’ll happen if it doesn’t go flawlessly? Are you going to be okay?” “Of course, darling, I’ll be fine,” said Rarity, trying her best to be reassuring. “And I’m sure Twilight will be fine too. We’re adults, so we can handle ourselves.” “Excellent,” Sapphire said with a shake of her head. She followed Rarity out into the Office and cleared her throat. “Okay, now. The party starts this evening so that gives us…” she turned to gauge the sun in the western sky through the high windows on the far wall, “...about four hours, which is just enough time to get you already.” Sapphire turned back to face Rarity. “I’ve already selected a dress for you, and…” Sapphire trailed off as she caught the pout on Rarity’s face. “And I was thinking ‘forget that’ and let you choose your dress instead.” Rarity looked back at Sapphire with a mix of excitement and surprise. “Really?” Sapphire nodded her head. “Yes,” she said as she jammed the note she had on Rarity’s dress back into her saddlebag. “Wouldn’t it be for the best if the birthday girl got to choose?” “Well come along then, let’s not waste any time!” A light blue aura enveloped Sapphire and lifted her into the air with a yelp as Rarity trotted by. Sapphire giggled as the field tickled the crystal hairs along her belly. “We’ll have to get you a dress too.” “Oh, Your Highness, that’s not necessary!” protested Sapphire meekly as she floated up the stairs behind Rarity. “No?” asked Rarity, a wry expression played across her face. “Then I take it you’re planning on wearing the Platinum Regalia all evening?” Sapphire’s eyes shot wide, and she looked down at herself. Sure enough, save for the crown floating just behind her in its own magic aura, she was still wearing the ancient attire that signified the rule and office of Princess Platinum before the founding of Equestria. Before even The Royal Pony Sisters had come to live there. She smiled sheepishly at Rarity. “Uh… No, I guess that wouldn’t do. Do you have anything in a size 8?” Rarity smiled as she lowered Sapphire to the ground on the second floor and began circling with an appraising eye. “I’m still a cracker-jack stylist, even if I may not be much of a designer any more. First, let’s get you out of that old thing, shall we?” Before Sapphire could nod, she was enveloped by magic once again. This time, however, all four of her hooves stayed on the ground as the ornate clasp of her cloak came undone with a soft metal ping. The weight she’d become accustomed to fell from her shoulders, and the cold that she’d previously been unaware of came surging into her crystal coat. “Sapphire?” “Y-yes?” she answered, hugging herself with a hoof. “What’s all this smooshed up against the inside of the cloak? Is this powder?” “Mm-mmhmm,” Sapphire said, shivering. “It w-w-was Onyx-x-’s id-d-dea.” Rarity looked over at her shaking form and tsked. “Oh, dash it all,” she said, and used her magic to shut the windows along the staircase wall, then ignite the gas fireplace, “Dreadfully sorry, Sapphire. Sometimes I forget about all… this.” She gestured to the icicles dangling from her mane. Sapphire nodded before scrambling to stand next to the fireplace. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been so cold and hadn’t been able to deal with it using her magic. Even on the dark side of the moon, she had ways of coping. But this? Crystal ponies were curious creatures to live this far north and still be so susceptible to such weather. As feeling began to return to her limbs, Sapphire watched as Rarity shook the last of the flour from the cloak. Her small task done, she walked over to drape both it and the crown upon the only empty dressform in the Regalia room. A room that was as large as her bedroom, one floor below. Sapphire marveled at the care and experience on display as Rarity smoothed out the regalia’s wrinkles and saw to what little wear and tear the day’s activities had brought on it by hoof. She sat down, her back to the cloying heat of the fireplace, and gazed around the room. She’d been up here before, but not as Sapphire. No, it was long ago. And many of the cloaks, scepters, crowns, and globes on display here had not yet been imagined. Nor their creators born, most likely. Dressforms were covered and glass cases were filled with all sorts of crowns and other emblems. Here stood the Royal Regalia of the Crystal Empire, the outfit she’d worn earlier this morning. It was the most famous of Rarity’s creations, being that it was minted on one side of the Crystallean Bit. Not to mention, that particular ensemble, with its various accoutrements was the subject of nearly every painting she was the subject of. At least a dozen different regalia sets were on display here. A private, if not proud affair, with only a hoofful of ponies throughout the Empire’s history being allowed access to it. And each set of regalia came complete with a spectacular crown, each varied in some way But while no two crowns were a copy of each other, the were all equal in both craft and beauty. Sapphire recognized a bronze circlet with gold inlay among them. She knew that it originated from the old Gryphon Kingdoms, before the birth of the Griffin Republic. A trophy from the war that history later gave Rarity the title of Ageless Guardian of the Northern Wastes. A familiar gleam caught Sapphire’s eye, above the fireplace. Looking up, she saw a thirteenth crown resting on the mantle from an ivory hook, and behind the hook was a small banner of crushed black velvet with a silvery moon at its center. Seeing it took Sapphire’s breath away. The crown itself was made of a very rare blue-hued metal. Across its blue surface, the light from the fireplace below seemed to dance like the auroras. It was a simple band, with ‘V’ of the same rare metal at its apex, shaped much like a pegasus diving down. Where the two bands of metal met, at what would be the center of the forehead and just below the horn was a black crescent moon, supporting a flawless diamond that Sapphire, or rather Luna, knew all too well. Back in her madness, when she’d been banished to the moon, she’d named it The Warding Star. One of the four stars that would eventually aid in the prophesied escape of Nightmare Moon. Distant, long forgotten memories once more threatened to wash over her as she recalled the evening where she gave that crown to Rarity. “I suspected you might like that one,” came Rarity’s voice from behind her. Sapphire looked over her shoulder with a jerk, then smiled nervously. “Well, it’s really pretty,” she said, trying her best to be as nonchalant. Rarity walked over to the fireplace and stood beside Sapphire, all the while keeping her eye on the crown. “It was given to me by a friend long ago.” “A friend? “A dear friend.” “I suppose it’s very sentimental?” “You could say that,” Rarity answered with a chuckle. “But there’s nothing sentimental about the power within it. Now come, let’s pick out a nice pair of dresses, shall we?” Sapphire nodded, finally tearing her eyes away from the Nightmare Crown, and followed the trail of Rarity’s magic as a train of rolling dress racks came to a stop alongside the two of them in front of the fireplace. “Let’s see,” continued Rarity, shooting up to her hooves. “A party of this size and magnitude deserves a dress to impress! One that makes a statement that says ‘Look at me, but do so with admiration.’ Sapphire, is there a theme for tonight’s party?” “Well, it’s your birthday,” she said with a big grin before standing up on her back legs to thrust her forelegs into the sky for emphasis,“so the theme is ‘Empress Rarity’s Birthday!’” “I see,” said Rarity, and she sat down again. “Something warm,” said Sapphire, turning away from the cream colored silk in her hooves to look over her shoulder. “Maybe something... playful…” And that was when she saw Rarity, sitting there, staring into silence. "I-I know it's not really my place to ask this, but... why do you hate your birthday so much?" Rarity froze on the spot. “Come again, Sapphire?” “Your birthday, I’ve heard that you hate it,” said Sapphire as she sidled up and sat down beside her Empress. Silenced reigned for a time while Sapphire nervously tapped her hooves together. “Who told you this?” Rarity finally asked not looking away from the rainbow of dresses before her. “Chef Cake. Quick Note, the Head Librarian. Commander Onyx.” “I see,” said Rarity, barely above a whisper. She shifted her seat to turn her back on Sapphire. “What did they tell you?” “Well, Chef Cake had some theories. It was small stuff, like never getting what you want, or that you don’t like being reminded of your age.” Rarity sighed dismissively, but there was a quiver to it. Sapphire caught the shiver that raced down her icy back where both her hip and flank inadvertently touched. “A-and Quick Note just looked at me sadly when I asked,” continued Sapphire, who felt like she was on the verge of crying herself. “Onyx said I had to ask you, myself. So, here I am,” she said, clearing her voice. “Sapphire, there is no… s-specific reason.” Rarity took a pointed breath and continued as best she could while putting on the same old birthday story that almost as old as she was. “Birthdays were never a big deal when I was growing up. My parents were young when they had me, and finances were a struggle for them, at least in the beginning. They tried their best, but it was usually just a little card.” “But now you have everything! It should be a grand celebration!” “Why?” choked out Rarity. “Because you’ve earned it! Your fantastic, Rarity!” said Sapphire with a sniffle. She reached up to pat her Empress on the shoulder, ignoring the cold and social faux pas. “Look at everything you’ve done. Look at who you are! You deserve to be happy.” “No, Sapphire,” insisted Rarity. She pulled herself away from Sapphire’s touch. “It’s just not fair that you’re this miserable, and today of all days! It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to your friends.” “Merry, please!” replied Rarity, her voice cracking. She turned back around so she could look at Sapphire with one tear stricken eye. “It’s difficult, I-I can’t—” “Why?” asked Sapphire. “Please, I’ve spent the last forever getting this together for you. All of this. And nothing has gone right! Please, tell me,” she begged. Rarity turned her head back and cradled it in her hooves. She took a deep breath, then spoke. “It was two hundred years ago, today.” “What was?” Rarity hung her head and sighed. “Applejack’s death.” * * * “Thank you for coming, Your Majesty,” said Blueblood, trotting over to the Princess. “I am sorry to mar the day’s celebrations with such ill news, but—” “No, Ambassador, it’s fine,” said Twilight with an appreciative smile as they walked towards the parlor’s door, trailing just a bit behind the rest of the ponies who’d partaken in the cabinet meeting. “You’re doing good work here, but more needs to be done, and I’d like to meet with you for a little planning before you engage the Empress again. When are you coming back to Equestria?” “I’m hoping to be on the train back by the end of the week, Your Majesty,” replied Blueblood. “I do so miss my family.” Twilight nodded. “Well, let’s see if my visit here can’t help you relax before heading back for a while.” “You’re much too kind, Princess,” said Blueblood. Twilight offered another of her Celestia-copied-smiles as Director Manesfield let out a yelp of surprise as something pushed past her coming in through the door she was walking out of. “Twilight! Twilight, look at what I got!” Blueblood flashed a scowl before he regained his typical expression of aristocratic boredom at the sight before him. Spike, the dragon who refused to grow up. The anomaly. A dragon was a dangerous thing, even a relatively young one of less than three centuries. An unpredictable dragon, who could shapeshift at will and valued friendship over treasure, was even more dangerous. He was dangerous because games could only be won if all the pieces play by the rules. The toddler-sized drake was decked out in more Rarity memorabilia than Blueblood thought would be possible on such a small frame. He wore a paper crown, a pitiable facsimile of the one Rarity wore in all her portraits. He had a small Empress Rarity doll under each arm, and in each of his little clawed hands he held the straps of off-white paper bags, filled to the brim with merchandise. He wore an off-white cotton shirt with some inane catchphrase hastily written across it. A saddlebag in the shape of the Crystal Heart was strapped across his little shoulders, jammed full of posters, bags, and a Rarity made out of balloons. “You’re not gonna believe this Twi, but there’s this fair and and everything there was Rarity! I mean, it was all about Rarity! Look at all this awesome stuff!” Twilight giggled like a schoolmare, nearly causing Blueblood to completely lose it right then and there and choke the immortal life out of her. “That’s great, Spike. Did you have fun?” “I sure did! I think Captain Shining Star did too!” he exclaimed as the three of them walked out of the parlor and into the hall beyond. Captain Shining Star was lying on the floor and moaning while she woozily waved her hooves around her swollen stomach. “Too… much… funnel cake. Frosting goodness… sugar coma.” “Yes, well, I seem to have I forgotten my papers, Princess,” said Blueblood with a hasty bow. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t see you out. Until tonight, Your Highness.” He turned around and nearly galloped the yard or so back into the parlor room before slamming the door shut and letting out an angry grunt. He could only keep up his friendly charade for so long when confronted with such… incompetence. Then he heard the distinctive sound of somepony throwing up, and lamented the state of his rugs. Blueblood leaned against the door for a moment, willing the unholy anger within him to submit to his authority. He was so close to executing the final stages of his plan. So close to being rid of these pesky princesses and their pretending to the throne. So close to the rule that was rightfully his, through both bloodline and through personal merit. He was not about to let a little thing like rage ruin the last few centuries of work. He opened his eyes and they focused on a large self portrait, the one that Princess Twilight had foolishly repaired with her magic. He allowed a smile to cross his face. Pushing off the door, Blueblood walked over to the table and pulled out the closest chair. He eased himself into it and looked at his collected notes that he left on the table. He committed it all to memory, then began transcribing copies for later this evening when runners would be dispatched to the necessary cells in both the Empire and Equestria. A knock at the door caught snapped him from his thoughts, and he shuffled the papers into a single stack with his magic before calling out. “Come in!” The doors opened and the butler poked his head in.“The good senator, Mr. Underhill, would like to speak with you, sir,” he said. Blueblood smiled at his servant, “Would he now? Yes, come in, both of you. Pour us some fresh tea from the cart, would you?” The butler nodded, and he stepped back to allow the overweight pegasus to slip in first. “Senator, good to see you. To what do I owe this pleasure?” “I heard you were curious about tickets to the Wonderbolt Derby,” replied Underhill as he took his own seat. Blueblood nodded, understanding the code, and the butler silently closed the door with a click, locking the three of them inside. Blueblood’s horn shimmered as he activated the hidden soundproofing runes around the room. “Report,” he demanded. “The Edict has spread. We are now active in three battalions, two of which you now have total control over and loyalty of the lieutenant colonels that command them,” replied Underhill. “At your word, over half of all the supply trains between Equestria and the Crystal Empire can be scuttled. Agents loyal to The Edict have taken seats in both houses of the Senate. The newest of which is the head of the budget committee in the House of Commons.” Blueblood smiled as he jotted down his notes. “Any luck getting into the Changeling Defense Force?” The good senator Underhill shook his head. “No sir. As you know, they have the highest due diligence of any official organization in Equestria. We’ve pulled out of every attempt to get a loyal son into the CDF as soon as they started asking too many questions.” “As well you should,” dismissed Blueblood with a wave. “It would do us little good to have the whole world know about The Edict too soon now, wouldn’t it? But the CDF hardly matters now that we have this.” Blueblood gestured to the painting Princess Twilight repaired with a free hoof as he continued to scratch out his missives for the evening. Underhill looked at him, then to the painting, and then back at Blueblood. “It’s a nice painting, Master, but—” “It is, isn’t it?” asked Blueblood, slamming his quill down and flashing a predatory smile at his minion. “What would you call it, Underhill? Gorgeous? Handsome?” The good senator Underhill pondered Blueblood’s words before leaning back in his chair and sighing. “I’m no good with riddles, Master. Pray tell, what is important about the painting?” Blueblood frowned. This was the problem with inbred pigeons such as pegasi; no imagination. “What’s so important is that with this portrait, I have just taken the keys to Canterlot, and beyond!” Blueblood relished the look of utter confusion on his minion’s face. He licked his lips, unable to hide his glee. His horn lit up and the painting came off the wall, coming to rest face down on the table, its thrumming magenta lines and circles now visible for them to see. “Are you familiar with magical runes?” “I can’t say that I am.” “Pity. Well, to spare you the lecture, know that they are incredibly difficult to create from scratch. The total life’s work of some of Equestria’s greatest unicorn wizards has resulted in thirty two in all. What you see here is a circle of my own design. It’s a hybridization of Ditto Drop’s famous Duplication Rune, bled into a scrying of the Archmage Locken Roll’s Incarceration Rune.” “Huh,” was all Underhill had to say about it. It was all Blueblood could do to not pop his head like a zit. “It captures magical signatures,” he said through clenched teeth. “Magical signatures?” Blueblood let out a sigh, willing the anger to subside. Of course, he thought to himself. Why did I expect anything other than a unicorn to understand this. “A magical signature identifies a pony, or anything that can use magic. It’s unique, like a hoofprint. No two are the same, and they can’t be replicated.” Blueblood’s own horn flared to life as he lifted a piping hot cup of tea from the tray that his butler was attending to. “If you were to analyse the aura that held this cup aloft, you would know that it was mine. Once I let go, a magical signature is left as a sort of meta-magical residue.” “But why does—” “And if you use a detection spell, you can match a magical signature to a pony.” “Huh.” Blueblood frowned. Apparently the pegasus hadn’t connected the dots yet. “Magical signatures are so unique, and so impossible to copy, that it’s become the defacto method of ‘locking’ a spell.” “How so?” “Well, when you— what am I saying— when I cast the spell to activate the soundproofing runes around the room, I instructed the spell to hold until a cancellation spell was sent with my magical signature.” “So… it’s sort of like a key, but for turning on and off somepony’s magic or spell?” Blueblood clapped his hooves together, chiddingly. “Very good! Yes, it’s like that, if you were to take the most base and curt of explanations.” Underhill sat up. “So… she left her magical signature when she fixed the painting?!” “Yes. You see it now.” His magic flared, and he grimaced as he worked his theurgic math. Soon, and shakily, the aura that wrapped the painting changed in color from his usual yellow to a magenta hue that was well recognized as belonging to Princess Twilight. He laughed, then continued. “With this, and with some time perfecting it, any spell I cast can be masked as if it was personally cast by the Princess.” “Well, what are we waiting for!” Blueblood’s butler suddenly cried out. He disappeared in a green puff of smoke, reappearing a second later in his true changeling form. “With this you could free the Queen!” The good senator, startled by the revealed changeling, fell backwards and tumbled to the floor. “No.” The aura returned to its natural yellow before fading out entirely. “I haven’t mastered the signature yet,” said Blueblood, panting. “I need more time to analyze it before I can use it to unlock the seals that have the Queen locked away. They’re extremely complex and only Twilight’s magic can properly undo them.” “STARS GARTERS, A C-CHANGELING?! They’re real!?” “Calm yourself, fool,” growled Blueblood, wiping the sweat from his brow. “How long will it take?” demanded the chittering changeling. Blueblood didn’t particularly care for its tone of voice. “A few months, at least,” replied Blueblood. “I need to stabilize the signature and adapt it as my own. It’s like flexing a muscle I didn’t have before.” The butler snorted, its lip curling in discontent. “We don’t have time for your games anymore, Blueblood.” “Games?” Blueblood frowned, remembering his earlier confrontations with Silver Dash and Sandy Gale. “Was today ‘Minion Revolt Day’ and I missed the memo?” “Blueblood, it’s a changeling!” urged Senator Underhill. “Kill it with your magic!” Blueblood gripped the bridge of his muzzle and let out a breath through his nostrils before addressing the stupidity all around him. “Okay, the two of you just…” He pointed to the good Senator Underhill as a red glow flashed in his eyes. “Sleep,” he commanded. And he did. “Why have you not turned this one into a thrall?” asked the changeling. “Because believe it or not,” replied Blueblood as he stood up to put the good senator back into a chair. “Some of my minions require free will to be of any use to me.” “Mhm. Free will. We find it an overrated concept.” “We?” asked Blueblood, turning to appraise the changeling. “I suspect others from the Hive are watching through your eyes now, yes?” The butler nodded. Blueblood smiled again. “Excellent.” A yellow aura gripped the changeling, and, with a grunt of effort, Blueblood crushed its four limbs into itself before stepping on its throat to rob it of speech. “Alright, changelings,” he snarled, “listen and listen well. This drone is as good as dead, as is the next one of you filthy bugs who so much as speaks out of line. You will have your Queen back; I have promised this much. But you will have her back on my terms, and on my time table.” Silence reigned between him and the creatures, without number or name, who watched on as one. He smiled, raising his hoof above the squirming creature’s head. “You’ve waited this long. What is a few more months? Please, be patient. Is that too much for me to ask?” And then he slammed his hoof down. And again. And a third time. * * * The good senator felt something tap him on his shoulder, and he stirred with a sharp intake of air. Where am I? “Oh thank goodness, you’ve woken up,” came a voice to his right. Underhill sat up and took in his surroundings. He was in the parlor room at the Equestrian Embassy in the Crystal Kingdom. That’s right. He’d come in here to speak to the Master of The Edict. But there was something urgent that happened. What was it? “Any more ‘changelings’?” asked Blueblood. The good senator’s face paled, as he scoured the room with his eyes. “That was it! The thing! Blueblood, there’s a changeling in here!” Blueblood frowned and offered Underhill a cup of hot tea. “Yes, that is what you were shouting not an hour ago before you suddenly collapsed,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’d never seen anypony in such an uproar before.” “But… But I… saw one?” Underhill flapped his wings in consternation, thinking back to the moment. But he couldn’t quite remember. It was fuzzy. Like a dream. “Oh good heavens, was it just a dream?” he asked aloud. “Strangest dream I’ve ever encountered, what with you screaming on as you did,” replied Blueblood, taking a sip of his tea while glancing at the clock. “I must ask you, Underhill, are you feeling alright?” “Yes sir, I’m… fine? I’m fine.” “Well, if you’re sure you’re feeling better,” Blueblood continued, “I best attend to the day’s last duties before getting ready for the party tonight.” “Yes… Yes, of course,” muttered Underhill as he tried to account for his bizarre actions. “Must be all the stress.” Blueblood came to his side and offered him a pat on the hoof with a friendly smile. “That must be it. In any case, the Edict thanks you for your report. Job well done, soldier. Please, if you have the need to rest, I’ve taken the liberty of lighting a fire. The chaise lounge beside the hearth is an excellent spot for a nap,” he said, gesturing with his head towards the crackling fireplace and its curiously green tipped flames. “Thank you, Master.” Blueblood threw him a wink before turning to leave the room. “Please, don’t mention it.”