• Published 29th Dec 2011
  • 45,451 Views, 2,086 Comments

Night's Favoured Child - Municipal Engines



With her new apprenticeship under Nightmare Moon, Empress of Equestria and Queen of the Eternal Night, the orphan filly Twilight Sparkle plunges head-first into the conspiracies, secrets and intrigues of the Empire.

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A Cause for Celebration

A Cause for Celebration

If anypony had told Nightmare Moon she would have been this excited for All Hallows' Eve a year ago, she would have made a snide comment about time-wasting and royal image and sent them away. But that all changed when she caught Twilight’s infectious excitement for the holiday. The lavender unicorn had gushed about how it was the only holiday – aside from Hearth’s Warming Eve – that she would wholeheartedly participate in, since it was an opportunity to let her imagination run riot with dressing up. Though being one of the few occasions she and her fellow orphans were treated to candy might have had something to do with it too.

Seeing the filly embrace the holiday had soon convinced the Empress to join in the festivities. The holiday enthusiasm of a child was hard to deny. While at first reluctant, Nightmare Moon had warmed to the idea, eventually embracing it as much as Twilight did.

The filly was now excitedly fidgeting with her costume, making sure it looked perfect in the mirror. As she stared at her reflection, teal dragon’s eyes stared back. She blinked and rolled her eyes experimentally. Hovering just outside her student’s room, having stepped out to give Twilight some privacy as she put on her costume, the Empress smiled. The spell she had cast was working perfectly.

The Empress had been flattered by the idea and had elected to help her with the costume. As her first Hallows’ Eve away from the orphanage, Twilight had wanted to make her costume herself, though her attempts at papier-mâché regalia and wings were laughable at best. The fragile wings had come out comically asymmetrical and knobbly, and the tinfoil shoes started coming apart after a few steps. After some convincing on the Empress’s part, Twilight had finally allowed Nightmare Moon to help her. The Queen of the Night, as it became apparent to the little filly, was quite the artist. Together, they had made a false set of regalia and wings that were both realistic, beautiful and – most importantly – durable. Twilight had then dyed her hair in deep violet and re-styled it before adding glitter that emulated the ethereal stars of the alicorn’s own mane.

To add the finishing touches, Nightmare had painted over Twilight’s cutie mark, replacing it with her own. The final component to the costume had been a spell of illusion over Twilight’s eyes so that they became identical the alicorn’s own. Twilight stepped back from the mirror after she finished the final adjustments to her costume and admired the handiwork. She looked just like a filly version of Nightmare Moon.

“My loyal subjects!” she squeaked, her high-pitched voice attempting to emulate the grand, magically amplified public-speaking voice of the Empress. “I decree that Hallows’ Eve has officially begun!”

“Indeed it has.”

Twilight whirled around, flinching as she saw Nightmare Moon standing in the doorway. She blushed furiously even as the alicorn smiled reassuringly.

“Um…” Twilight began, struggling to think of what to say. Finding nothing, she decided to find a new subject. “Where’s your costume? You said you were going to wear something for Hallows’ Eve.”

Nightmare Moon nodded. “Oh I am, but I am just putting the finishing touches on it. Why don’t you start collecting some candy from the residential apartments and I will meet up with you in an hour?”

“Okay!” the filly replied excitedly.

She grabbed her bag and scampered out of her room and the Royal Apartments. Nightmare Moon stepped back into her own room and looked at her costume with mischievous delight. How long has it been since I dressed up for All Hallows' Eve? she wondered. Centuries? A millennium? Yes, that seemed right. In any case, it had been ages since she last participated in the holiday. But tonight was different. Tonight, she had plans of her own.

Her memories turned to the days when she would zip all over the world as a filly, surprising the other alicorn nobles with a trick or a treat. Nightmare Moon smiled when she remembered how often she tricked rather than treated. Tonight, she decided, was going to be a night the palace residents and staff would never forget. The Empress grinned wickedly. Tonight, Canterlot, she thought. You shall receive the biggest prank of all!

With glee, she slipped into her costume, taking care not to spoil its perfect ruffles and creases, and trotted out the Royal Apartments. She could clearly see the horrified glances she was getting and the painfully bad attempts by staff and nobles alike to hide their shocked faces. She spotted her first victim – a Royal Guard. He stood so rigidly, eyes perfectly front. He didn’t even notice her approach until she was in full view of him. Even his statuesque face began to crack when he saw his Empress in her costume. She grinned inwardly as his eye twitched.

“Good evening, sergeant,” she said, her voice a sing-song tone. She saw the guard wince ever so slightly as he was addressed directly.

“G-good evening… Your Majesty,” he managed, his voice as stiff as he was trying to stand.

“It is a beautiful night, no?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

She gave a smile of overbearing joy as she struck a pose. “What do you think of my All Hallow’s Eve costume?”

“I…” the stallion couldn’t finish. He was visibly shaking.

“You’re relieved for the evening, Sergeant,” the Empress smiled.

“Oh thank you, Your Majesty,” the guard sighed. He bowed with all due formality, before he turned quickly and galloped off, leaving a trail of dust behind him.

The Empress snickered and walked on. Then she stopped suddenly in mid-stride, her hoof inches from the ground. An idea struck her. She thought of a new victim that she would enjoy teasing far more than anypony else. Softly laughing to herself, she called up an image to the front of her mind and concentrated. With a flash, she teleported to her target location instantly.

This place was on the other side of the mountain, a corridor tunnelled through the rocks and dirt that made Mount Canterlot. She knew it fairly well, although she did not often visit. In the dark, dank corridor – dimly lit only by a few fiery braziers that hung from the wall – she could make out a deep mahogany door. Stifling a fit of mischievous chuckles, the Empress knocked.

“Come in,” came the silky Gallopfreyan-accented voice from the other side.

She pushed the door open and stepped daintily through. The office was spacious and floored with smooth, polished wood. Along the walls were many bookcases, lined with an assortment of tomes – many of which were forbidden from circulation around the Empire – and an extravagant fireplace sat in one of the walls, fires lit and smoke rising to an unseen chimney. The middle of the room was carpeted with a rich wine-red rug, and contained a magnificent desk – deep brown wood trimmed with gold paint. The wall behind the desk was non-existent. Instead, a large row of windows let the moonlight spill into the office. The view let any visitor know that the room had been built into the cliff-face of Mount Canterlot, a pony-made blemish on an otherwise untouched mountain side. At the desk, buried in his documents, sat the Inquisitor.

He held up a hoof and levitated a glass of sherry to his lips. “Just a second.”

“Inquisitor, is it really wise to leave your Empress waiting when she comes to visit?”

The black-shrouded stallion finally looked up at her, and immediately choked on a mouthful of the amontillado he was so fond of. Nightmare Moon patiently stood, smiling lightly, as the Inquisitor finished coughing. He braved another look in her direction and froze, as if the second glance finally confirmed it all. His jaw dropped open and his eyes widened.



“Y-you… you’re a…” the Inquisitor stuttered, at last able to get some movement out of his lips. “A maid.”

Nightmare Moon smiled sweetly, though any real maid that dressed like her would have been thrown out of the palace. Her costume of choice was a black dress with a frilly skirt that reached just over her haunches, accented by a white apron. Fishnet stockings, ribbons and a couple of garters were extra little details that she was particularly fond of, and the lace headband was a nice touch. She even wore two pairs of dainty black shoes.

“I decided to participate in the festivities this year,” she clarified. “I decided it would be ironic if I dressed as a Prench maid. Royalty dressing as a servant, Inquisitor; think of the scandal.” She performed a delicate twirl. “Do you like it?”

“I… um… uh…” the Inquisitor tugged at the tight collar of his black uniform, a rose colour tinting his cheeks. “It’s very… flattering, Your Majesty.”

“Really? I think it might be a little too tight at the back. See?” Nightmare Moon gave a testing wiggle of the flanks. The stallion’s eye twitched. She smiled innocently at him. Internally, however, she was cackling with delight at his discomfort. “Inquisitor, you look a bit flustered. Are you ill?”

“N-no!” he cried. “I mean, it’s just a little warm in here.”

“Well, if that’s it, then I am sure you will not mind coming outside with Twilight and me,” the alicorn said in a tone that made it clear to the Inquisitor he would have no choice in the matter. “It will give you a chance to cool off and get some fresh air.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, and we can stop by the parade. I wanted to show it to Twilight so she knows about what Hallows' Eve really means,” the Empress added.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the stallion said, his strangled voice regaining some of its composure.

She offered him a smile lacking in the chicanery of her previous performance. “You can dress yourself up and join in the celebrations properly.”

A slight wince marred his face. “I would prefer not to. I am… not particularly fond of Hallows' Eve.”

“Oh?” Nightmare Moon raised a brow. “Is it too much of a foal’s holiday for you, or are you just scared of all the little monsters?”

“I just think it is a load of commercialised, superficial tripe,” the Inquisitor countered, a bit of bite edging his voice. “I want no part in such pointlessness.”

“All Hallows' Eve has been around for thousands of years, Inquisitor. It is steeped in meaning and tradition, not the least of which is to celebrate the defeat of one of the world’s greatest threats. Why, even as a filly I donned my own guise and hunted for treats.”

It was the Inquisitor’s turn to shoot her an arch look. “Somehow, I find it hard to picture you as a rascally little filly going from door to door trick-or-treating.”

“I had a foalhood just like anypony else. I believe you had one, too. Did you never dress up for the Eve when you were a colt?”

“The holiday was essentially non-existent in my hometown,” the Inquisitor replied quietly.

The Empress pursed her lips. “This would be the little Gallopfreyan village in the highlands?”

“Impeccably remembered, Your Majesty. We were in a valley that was fairly solitary in terms of nearby civilisation.”

“I suppose in such isolation, any town would have its quirks,” Nightmare nodded. “In any case, you have to agree Hallows' Eve is hardly commercialised when it is continuing traditions well over a thousand years old.”

“Fine, I can see your point,” he huffed. “I still would rather not bother with a costume.”

The Empress made an exaggerated pout. “That is quite a shame; I promised Twilight she would see you embracing the full spirit of the holiday. You wouldn’t want to disappoint our hopeful, lonely little filly now, would you?”

The stallion’s jaw clenched and his eyes flared with irritation. “No, I would not,” he grumbled.

“Good!”

She whirled around and walked slowly to the door, then paused and looked back with a come-hither smirk and a wink as she flicked her tail at him. She waited just long enough to hear his scandalised sputtering before flashing to the other side of the palace.

Back in the Residential Wing, Nightmare Moon walked in her usual proud and regal way, though this time flavouring her stride with a sly sway of her hips. Most ponies continued to gawk, no matter how hard they tried not to, some shocked and affronted, but more with amused astonishment. Many ponies gawked at her when they thought she wasn’t looking, staring in utter shock. Some looked at their Empress with amused astonishment, though most had the decency to carry on with their evening wearing just a startled blush and only occasionally glancing Nightmare Moon’s way.

Shame on you, Luna, acting so unseemingly, a small nagging voice of derision said from the back of her mind. You are an alicorn, and an empress at that. Ponies will lose respect for you; dressing like this will cause you nothing but humiliation.

An alicorn and an empress at that… Nightmare Moon turned the phrase over in her head. Yes, I am: immortal and with absolute authority. If anypony has a problem with the way I’m acting, they can go stuff themselves! The small voice of her doubts fell silent.

Besides, she thought with a grin, I haven’t felt this… sexy in centuries.

It excited her, in a way, to be seen by ponies in such a light. As she wandered through the palace, speaking to its denizens and playfully flirting with a few of the more handsome of them, the shock of her appearance wore off and more ponies began to give her considering looks, though they tried not to be noticed doing so. Nightmare Moon hadn’t realised just how gratifying it was, even for just a little while, not be regarded as the regal, immortal, and completely unrelatable alicorn Empress of Equestria, but to be admired as mare instead.

It was not long before she came across a certain fuchsia unicorn mare dressed in a familiarly-themed Hallows' Eve costume. North Star’s fringe was pulled back and, along with the rest of her mane, bound in a simple spherical bun. Atop her head rested a nursing cap, to go with the nurse’s outfit she wore. This particular outfit, however, sported an inordinate amount of lace and pink trim. Unlike the rather plain and practical dress of professional nurses, the salaciously shaped, short-cut skirts hugged her hips and flared over her rump, accenting her curves much as the Empress’s own costume did. The entire design was finished off with white stockings that nearly reached her cutie mark and a set of dainty pink slippers.

North Star had abruptly stopped walking and was now staring with dilated pupils at the Empress. A vivid blush coloured the pink pony’s cheeks and, likely without realising it, she bit her lip as her gaze remained fixed on the alicorn. Nightmare Moon tried to stifle a grin at her minister’s obvious interest. This might confirm those rumours, she thought. North Star had always been purported to have some sort of inclination toward her fellow mares, and Nightmare Moon was beginning to suspect that the young mare’s worship of her was perhaps more than just religious devotion. Nightmare Moon’s lips formed a pleased smile, but on the inside it was much more devious.

“Why, North Star, you look absolutely delightful in your costume!” she cried in the most overly-dramatic manner she could muster.

The blush somehow grew even deeper. “Y-yes, well, thank you very much, Your Holiness,” North Star managed, bowing and taking a few seconds with her eyes on the ground to recompose herself. She rose. “And may I say you look particularly… mesmerising yourself?”

“Mesmerising is definitely a good word to describe it,” the Empress said casually, giving the frilly skirt that just covered her flanks a pointed glance. “Most of the palace seemed to be somewhat mesmerised by my costume. In fact, I’ve been getting a lot of looks not unlike the one you gave me a moment ago.”

The blush returned, and the young mare did her best to suppress it. “Forgive me for saying so, Your Holiness, but your costume… it’s, well, it’s not exactly suitable for a mare as sacred and high in stature as yourself, is it?”

“Oh? And what about your own costume, Lady North Star? Surely it is rather risqué for a minister of my council, not to mention a priestess.”

“Ah... yes, Your Holiness, but I… I’ve always worn costumes like this.” She grimaced at her admission. “I enjoy having this one night where I wouldn’t have to pay too much attention to whether I am wearing the ‘right’ type of Canterlot clothes and I...” Nightmare Moon gave her an exaggeratedly wry look and the young mare bowed her head. “But, yes, you’re right, I’ll go change immediately.” North Star glanced up at Nightmare Moon hopefully. “Would Your Majesty consider doing the same?”

“I don’t think it is necessary.” the Empress smirked, “For either of us to change.”

The mare looked abashed and managed a deferential nod.

“I know it seems out of the blue, but it is Hallows' Eve, and I have not joined my subjects in celebrating this ancient holiday for quite some time,” the alicorn explained, before smiling confidently. “Besides, nopony would dare defame me, and I think I of all ponies have the right to present myself however I please. Don’t you agree?”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty!”

“Then would you like to walk with me?” she asked.

The young mare looked overjoyed, eyes suddenly shining with seemingly boundless enthusiasm. As quickly as it came, the look vanished as North Star composed herself in front of her sovereign. “I would be honoured.”

The Empress and her loyal apostle meandered through the palace at a slow, casual pace. As they did, she noticed that the two of them together dressed as they were caused many stallions to perk up, fixing them with appreciative looks, subtle or otherwise. Occasionally she met the eyes of one of the rubberneckers, taking great delight in watching them suddenly snap to a properly ashamed and subservient manner as they scurried off out of her sight.

“So you say you often dress like this for All Hallows’ Eve, Lady North Star,” Nightmare Moon prompted, hoping to spark carefree conversation with the young priestess.

North Star was jolted out of her contentedness, having basked in the silent company of her idol, drinking in her form reverantly as they walked. She tried – and failed – to hide the blush that coloured her cheeks.

“Oh, yes I did, Your Majesty,” she said stiffly.

“And what have you gone as in the past?”

“I… well, I’ve gone as many different things: a devil, a witch and a vampire, to name a few.”

Nightmare Moon threw her subject a toothy, wicked grin. “All of those were as, shall we say... spicy as your current guise, I assume?”

The Hierophant gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“And when did you first start this trend of yours?”

“Thirteen, Your Majesty.”
The Empress blanched, her grin falling away. “Thirteen?! Your guardian was Hierophant Mystic Dawn, am I correct? I am surprised she allowed you out in those outfits at that age.”

North Star’s only response was a strained “She didn’t seem to mind, Your Majesty.”

Sensing that her minister’s discomfort had finally reached intolerable levels, Nightmare Moon let the conversation wither away into silence. If there was any moment that impressed upon Nightmare Moon just how difficult it was to connect with mortal ponies on a personal level, this was it.

The unicorn was uncomfortable with further attempts from the alicorn to bridge the distance between their statuses with light banter. Whenever Nightmare Moon attempted to get the mare to open up, she would continue to just deferentially agree with whatever her liege had to say. In the end, the obsidian mare resigned herself to one-sided chats on easier, more comfortable subjects with North Star. At least, she thought as she finished regaling the priestess with anecdotes of previous Hallows' Eves, North Star is a good listener.

After walking for some time, Nightmare Moon found herself back at the great hall of the residential wing. She smiled as a miniature version of herself scampered out of the hall dedicated to the House of Harshwhinny with a shouted, “Thank you!”

“I like your costume, Empress,” Twilight said as she trotted up to them, looking approvingly at the maid ensemble her teacher wore. The implications were obviously lost on her young mind.

The Empress smiled graciously at the innocent, genuine compliment. “Thank you, Twilight. Most ponies also share your regards. However, I think everypony will find your costume absolutely terrific. Don’t you agree, Lady North Star?”

Twilight blinked as if she hadn’t even noticed the obsequiously nodding fuchsia mare. “Hello, Miss North Star. Your costume looks very nice as well.”

“Thank you, Lady Twilight Sparkle.” The priestess bowed her head politely, staring at the filly’s draconic eyes. “You too have a wonderful costume.”

“Oh yes,” Twilight said, a hoof absently touching her dyed mane. “The Empress helped me make it.”

North Star smiled endearingly at that. “How are you enjoying Hallows' Eve at the palace?”

“It’s great! The costumes are all so good, but there aren’t all that many other foals.” The foal shrugged and gave a sly grin. “But that means more candy for me though.”

“Twilight, I see you have had quite the successful night,” the Empress said, eyeing the filly’s bag brimming with sweets and chocolates.

The little one nodded emphatically. “Yes! The nobles all have such better candy than the houses near the orphanage did.”

“As with all celebrations, there is a certain mind-set the nobility have on All Hallows’ Eve. As always, they like to show off.” Nightmare Moon flashed her student a grin. “Have you ever seen the parade on the main street? It is really quite something.”

“Yes, I have. The orphanage sends out groups of us every year to go trick-or-treating and we always stay out to see the parade.” Twilight eyes drifted upwards and glazed over for a few seconds as she was lost in reminiscence. “I would love to go out and see it with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Twilight. In fact, I was going to there with Lady North Star to meet the Inquisitor.”

“The Inquisitor’s there?” both unicorns asked curiously.

Nightmare threw a smirk towards the priestess. “Yes, I have managed to convince him to participate in the fine traditions of All Hallows’ Eve. I do wonder what he will be dressed as.”

Twilight pursed her lips in thought. “Does he know where to meet us?”

“I am a six foot, three inch alicorn with a starry mane in a maid outfit.” The Empress replied pointedly. “I am sure the Inquisitor will be able to find us in the crowd.”

They walked onward, the filly blushing in embarrassment. The All Hallows’ Eve parade took place in the long, wide stretch of road that grew from the plaza in front of the palace and ended on the other side of the plateau. Their destination was not far enough to warrant a carriage, and so they crossed the plaza outside the palace on hoof.

Flashes and snaps of cameras assaulted the alicorn and her little retinue almost as soon as they left the safety of the palace, flanked by the Honour Guard. Nightmare Moon felt her chagrin rise like bile in her throat. Obviously the peasantry would leap on her costume choice and the tabloids would run wild with it. It would be as subtle as they could manage, of course – lest they wake the wrath of the Overwatch, which perched like a great black hawk over the media, watching for any sign of deviation from what the government deemed acceptable. Nopony wanted to anger the alicorn who ruled them all by publishing an article at her expense. The Empress allowed herself a cruel grin at the knowledge.

But the word would spread far. Ponies would probably understand that their Empress knew exactly what she was doing dressing like this and laugh along with the joke it was intended as. Or they could think I sincerely want to act like a loose floozy and pick up a stallion, she realised, before shrugging the thought off. It was unlikely; for a thousand years she had been an authority figure to be feared and respected. One evening of revelry on a night known for revelry would not change that. Either way, the alicorn knew, hoped, that this act would let ponies see she was not such an inaccessible, distant icon.

The Honour Guard spread out, locating and cordoning off the press. Their liege crossed the plaza, only mildly irritated whenever she saw a flash of light in the corner of her eye. After a while of this, and after several smashed cameras and threats, the journalists decided to graciously leave their sovereign alone. Nightmare Moon checked to see how her charge was holding up.

The little filly seemed oblivious to the actions of the media. Instead, she frisked excitedly around Nightmare Moon, occasionally munching on a piece of candy. There were a great many ponies in all kinds of colourful costumes around them, all here for the parade. The city gendarmes were already clearing the center of the plaza in preparation for the coming spectacle. On the main street proper, ponies lined up on the sidewalks, craning their necks to try and see the first of the floats and performers arrive further down the road.

Nightmare Moon led them to a spot on the main street near to the plaza. The chosen place was quickly emptied of ponies, with a fence of guards circling her, her student and her minister. Ample personal space, she thought, quite pleased. Numerous onlookers stared at her and her entourage with rapt fascination. The parade had yet to start, so the Empress dressed as she was stood as the moment’s main attraction.

“Try not to gorge yourself, Twilight,” she warned her student, who was stuffing a large wad of gummi cherries into her mouth. “Else you will get a stomach ache.”

Twilight nodded and made a noise that sounded something like a muffled “Yes, Empress.” The alicorn huffed, her breath catching the air in a steamy plume. Where is he?

Just as the question entered her mind, a flash of light caught the corner of her eye and the tell-tale pop of a teleportation spell rang in her ears. She turned around to find a mask staring at her; crude and shiny and coarse with nothing more than plain rectangles for eye holes. The pony that was wearing it was wrapped up in a hooded rufous cloak.

“I see you have decided to come after all,” Nightmare Moon said to the Inquisitor, waving away the dutifully curious Honour Guards.

“Well, it wouldn’t do to disappoint little Twilight Sparkle, now would it?” She could hear the smirk in the stallion’s voice.

Hearing her name, Twilight scampered up to the two. “Oh wow, Inquisitor, that is a really good Red August costume!”

The stallion gave a little flourish with his cloak. “I’m glad you think so. I didn’t have much time to put it together, so I had to make the mask myself.”

“Is that cardboard wrapped with aluminium foil?” Nightmare Moon smiled in good-humoured derision.

The Inquisitor scoffed. “I used what I could work with, and I think I did fairly well considering I had all of twenty minutes to do it. Besides, you’re hardly one to talk about authenticity, Empress. I’ve never seen a real maid wear a uniform as... provocative as yours.”

“Very well,” the Empress replied, “I will not hold any… imperfections in your costume against you.”

The black eyes beneath the mask flicked to left of the alicorn, where North Star stood, then regarded the Empress with an unasked question. For some reason, Nightmare Moon felt the need to explain. “I came across the Hierophant in the halls and she was all too willing to accompany Twilight and me to the parade.”

The masked stallion just nodded. “I suppose the theme tonight is irony. Your Majesty as a lowly servant and Lady North Star as somepony who actually helps others.”

North Star didn’t miss a beat. “And you came dressed as a respected intellectual.”

“Aha! Touché, Your Eminence.”

“Ooh, I see the first float!” Twilight cried, stabbing a hoof down the road.

Nightmare Moon was tall enough that she had no need to lean and peer in order to see the parade come by. She also knew the general theme of an All Hallows’ Eve parade; it would be equal parts glorious celebration – a tradition carried down from the first festivals many thousands of years ago – and macabre spectacle – a more modern invention, just over a millennium old.

The first float was heralded by a group of performers. Unlike the more pedestrian and diverse costumes of the crowd, the performers wore bizarre and colourful outfits representing all kinds of spirits and ghouls. A pegasus wearing the pale blue and trailing streamers of a windigo swooped and whinnied above the crowd while a dance troupe of zombies lurched in perfect unison down the street. The float behind them featured a massive skull on a bed of marigolds, asters and daisies, wreathed in a crown of imported sunflowers. The warm colours were a rarity in Canterlot, a city normally adorned in traditional imperial blues, purples and whites. Bright colours were reserved for Hallows’ Eve and the days leading up to it. As always, the sight of the sunflowers brought on a flash of memory; fields of the towering yellow plants basking in the sun of ages past. Nightmare Moon couldn’t help but smile.

More performers and floats passed them, filling the air with music as they went. Each float, like the costumes of their passengers, was more colorful and bombastic than the last. The juxtaposition of warmth and life with the symbols of the monstrous and dead had fascinated Nightmare Moon in her childhood. Of course, the more modern version of Hallows’ Eve eschewed most of the folkish expressions of the holiday in exchange for plastic jack-o'-lanterns and store-bought costumes. Still, from the calvalcades of the smallest towns to the spectacle that wound through the boroughs of Manehattan, the tradition of the Hallows’ Eve parade remained faithful to the festival’s early years.

The Canterlot parade was the most bombastic. Musicians danced on stilts and thestrals adorned themselves in gaudy vampiric ensembles. There was even a tamed manticore performing at the command of its trainer on top of one of the floats. Always-theatrical performers played their roles without breaking character, cackling and lunging at the audience as they half-lurched, half-danced their way down the road.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Twilight?” the Empress asked, turning her head to the little unicorn at her side.
Twilight nodded profusely, her mouth stuffed with candy. “Mhm.”

“Do you know why we celebrate All Hallows’ Eve?”

The filly swallowed her treat. “Isn’t it so we get candy?”

Nightmare Moon laughed. “Partly! But do you know the original reason?”

Frowning, Twilight concentrated, searching her mind for the answer, before finally giving up and shaking her head in defeat.

“Tonight is the night when the world of the living and the world of the dead are closest to one another,” the alicorn supplied. “It was this night that ancient cultures, old even before Arche’s ascension, chose to venerate their dead ancestors. The practice has been continued for millennia since.”

“But then what’s with the costumes and the candy?” asked Twilight.

“Well, since the spirit world and the living world are so close on this night, devils and ghosts and all manner of creatures can appear. Apparently, the first celebrants disguised themselves as monsters and ghouls in order to trick the spirits into leaving them alone.”

“I haven’t ever seen any ghosts or monsters on Hallows’ Eve,” the filly replied.

The Inquisitor intoned mysteriously, “Perhaps they are among us, and you haven’t noticed them amidst all the guising ponies. I’ve seen quite a few costumes that seemed all too real…”

Twilight’s eyes widened at the implications and suddenly began to scan the crowd, staring intently at some seemingly suspicious spectators. Nightmare Moon laughed into her hoof at the sight of a child’s fantastic imagination at work. The Empress leaned down to her.

“I would not worry about it, Twilight. I am sure if there are any spirits out there, they are just here to enjoy the celebration like you.”

That seemed to calm her down, as she returned to gaze at the parade, though every so often she threw a peering glance at the throng of costumed ponies. Nightmare Moon was busy enjoying the sight of what she guessed was a masked pegasus dancer in a ridiculously long and flowing purple cloak pretend to be a banshee when she felt Twilight nudge her leg for attention. She leaned down to hear what her student had to say.

“Where does all the trick-or-treating come from?”

Nightmare Moon smiled nostalgically. “Back in my day, we called it souling.”

“Day?” The filly cocked her head quizzically.

“An archaic way of saying night, though much of the world considers it the more proper term,” the Empress brushed off the question. “Now, souling was essentially trick-or-treating, except we went around begging for the soul cakes that were traditionally baked on All Hallows’ Eve. We would go around singing and busking and saying prayers to our ancestors.”

“These nights we just say ‘trick or treat’ and get candy,” Twilight observed, shoving a hooful of sweets into her mouth.

“Yes, I have always been a little disappointed at that development.”

As the parade reached a crescendo, ponies weaved their way through the crowds, passing out fiery torches. Nightmare Moon took a couple. To her student’s dismay, the Empress refused to let her hold one, citing the flammability of her costume wings. At last, the final float came into sight.

It was a massive stallion effigy made of straw and wood, painted black with pitch. Kindling and other debris lay at its feet, stacked up to the knees. Its horn and its wings, folded up against its sides marked it as an alicorn. This alicorn, however, was calculated to look as monstrous as possible. Four eyes of solid red, like pools of blood, were fixed above a sneering, fanged mouth. The figure was covered in wooden spikes and sculpted with jagged, frightening armour. Its mane and tail were coiling masses of thick black rope. The thing was as hideous as it was every year.

“I forgot how ugly it was,” the Inquisitor muttered, his voice tinged with venom.

Nightmare Moon threw her chancellor a smirk. “It is always different in every town.”

“So what’s the origin of this, Empress?” Twilight asked. “I mean, a giant statue of Maelstrom the Mad doesn’t seem to have anything to do with celebrating the dead.”

“All Hallows’ Eve also marks the final defeat of Cheimon – or Maelstrom as some call him – and the end to the War of Black and Red. We burn effigies of him to commemorate that.”

The filly stared at the massive wooden statue. “Was he so hideous?”

The Empress shrugged. “Probably not, but Grandfather never liked to talk about it, so I have little idea myself. But really, it does not matter anymore. We do not burn Cheimon per se, simply the idea that he represents: a tyrannical force that brings chaos and war.”

“So it’s all symbolic?”

“The real Cheimon died many millennia before I was even born. It had only vague meaning to me when I was a child, and it has even less meaning to ponies whose ancestors never even fought him. In any case, it is a fun tradition.”

As the effigy trundled along the road, the crowd began to follow. Sections peeled away and shuffled towards the main plaza. As the effigy moved closer to its destination, the surge of ponies grew. A mass of glittering torches held aloft now shifted ever so slowly to the plaza just outside the palace gates. In the centre – in all his terrifying wooden glory – stood Maelstrom the Mad.

The humming mass of equinity gathered there, guised and glowing with torches held high. Excitement filled the air, and pyromania was on their minds. Nightmare Moon could sense the eagerness in her subjects, to burn and celebrate. It was a mad little ritual, in a way, and suitably macabre for the special night. A horn sounded and the humming fell to a buzz.

A pony of indeterminate sex dressed all in yellow, hooded and masked in cloth, stepped out of the crowd and turned to face the throng. It cried out. “Three cheers, three cheers for the thousand years that ended when we won; the battle of all the hopes and fears, the hopes and fears of which we sung!”

And the city sang. They sang in triumph, in whooping revelry and joy that were sure to frighten ghouls and demons and put fear in the hearts of ne’er-do-wells and tyrants. As the song came to a crescendo, three more blasts of the horns sounded and the cheer for the death of all tyrants came, which Nightmare Moon gladly joined in.

“Hip hip hurrah! Hip hip hurrah! Hip hip hurrah!”

And with that, the ponies of Canterlot let loose their torches, throwing them at the tyrannical figure. Nightmare Moon allowed Twilight the opportunity to throw her own torch herself, though she carefully monitored the filly. Like most of the torches, her student’s landed in the pile of kindling at the effigy’s feat. A sudden fancy came over the Empress; the call of flamboyance and theatre she loved. She aimed her own torch and lobbed it with magically-guided force and precision. There, in one of the statue’s four eyes, the torch embedded itself and soon the head was aflame.

It did not take long for the entire thing to be covered in fire. The kindling was excellent and the pitch added fuel. Ponies around her cheered and laughed and children were mesmerised by the dancing, growing flames. The alicorn saw the Inquisitor vanish from the corner of her eye, reappearing minutes later with several small bags of roasted chestnuts, passing one to North Star and offering another to Twilight, who eyed her candy and then the chestnuts before shaking her head. With a shrug, he turned to Nightmare Moon.

“Empress, I don’t suppose you would like some roasted chestnuts?” he asked, gesturing with a bag of the treats in his telekinetic grip.

“Well… ‘tis the season for them, so why not?” Nightmare happily took a bag and sampled one of them. They were delicious. “So, Inquisitor, has it been so bad to have come out and join in the celebrations?”

He shrugged. “I suppose not, Empress. I’ve had the pleasure of the company of good ponies such as yourself and the Hierophant. And Twilight Sparkle, of course.”

“I think the poor dear has a bit of a sugar rush,” Nightmare Moon said, looking at her student, who was giddily chatting with North Star.

“She’ll probably feel a bit poorly later, given the amount of sweets she has eaten,” the stallion observed.

“It will serve as a lesson in moderation, then.”

The Inquisitor nodded his masked head. “Oh, and, Empress, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the latest report on communications between the griffons and the dragons.”

A dainty pink slipper shot up. “If it is not too much to ask, Inquisitor, I would rather not talk about work on a holiday such as this.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” the stallion bowed his head. “In that case, let’s just watch the bonfire, shall we? I like the heat… I can feel a cold snap coming.”

And they did just that. The four of them stood there, dressed in all manner of garb between them, and chatted amongst themselves until the flames became smoulders and the crowd had long since dwindled to a scant few groups orbiting the bonfire.

============

The Bright Moon shone like the sun, penetrating the grey-white skies easily. Clouds massed over Canterlot and dusted snow as far as the eye could see. The Inquisitor was thankful for the intensity of the moon’s light, since otherwise it would have been impossible see anything at all in this weather. He stood on the balcony, warmed by a fur-collared winter cloak. His usual stark black Overwatch uniform had been exchanged for a statelier outfit of dark maroon breeches and a black doublet trimmed and embroidered with gold.

In the city, the Inquisitor could see thousands of colourful lights and decorations themed to the festive season. Hearth’s Warming was always a popular holiday; something to keep ponies occupied in the cold, dark lull of the winter months. Ribbons and lights bridged houses and ran along their walls, wrapping around entire streets. Wreaths of holly and fir fixed with golden bells garnished windows and doors. From his vantage point on the palace balcony, there were so many Hearth’s Warming trees it looked as though a forest had sprung up in the streets of Canterlot. Every last one was draped with at least a few stars and ribbons and lights.

There would be a play this year, as there was every year. It would be the same as always: the unity of the three main pony races, the triumph of the Equestrian Empire and the Fires of Harmony that heralded the end of old conflicts and the start of a new age. As it did every year, the pageant would have its own flavour with a new creative team and new actors. The Inquisitor snorted as he recalled the numerous different plays. They all had to be heavily vetted by the Ministry of Culture and the Imperial Overwatch working in tandem. Inter-departmental cooperation was always such an ordeal, even when it was something as simple as editing a play.

The Inquisitor sipped at his mug of mulled wine, a traditional drink he was quite fond of, and looked through the windows of the palace. The grounds were flooded with servants and staff all franticly finishing the preparations for the day’s Hearth’s Warming Feast. The Inquisitor had spied the kitchens earlier, and his stomach growled at the memory of the delicious sights and smells of the food. He had already been to several dinners over the past few days, as one of the perks of his position was the need of the politically-inclined to invite him for a meal and each one had been lovely, but none would match the glory of the feast hosted by Nightmare Moon. A gluttonous grin spread across his face, smooth as butter, and his mouth watered until he shook himself out of the culinary fantasy.

The stallion frowned and glared narrowly at his body. Even under the clothes he could see the fleshiness of his body. The unicorn poked his paunch and jabbed at his jowls, muttering ruefully, “You’ve gotten fat, you old fool.”

Visions of a strapping, handsome youth surfaced from somewhere deep in his memories. That younger version of him could send fillies into giggling fits or swooning faints simply by smirking at them. That youth had been rippling with muscle. He would have been disgusted by this glorified desk-jockey politician that was now dreaming of further feasting. Then again, that young stallion was cocky, stupid and had no concept of subtlety.

Still. “Must clear room next year for an exercise regimen,” he told himself before downing the last of his mulled wine and heading inside.

The scent of candle wax, cinnamon and pine needles filled the air. He smiled at the smells; they brought back more warm memories. The Inquisitor couldn’t help but put a little spring in his step. Like much of Equestria, Hearth’s Warming was his favourite time of the year. Even in Canterlot, surrounded by rivals and enemies on all sides, he could relax and enjoy himself with good company, good food and good cheer. He had no doubt that Twilight Sparkle’s presence at the banquet would make it all the more enjoyable.

He was surprised to see the change the filly brought out in his sovereign. The mare had been frightfully cold to all but himself, and so imperious even then. Who would have thought that children would be her weakness? Who could have guessed that the conqueror of Equestria and dreaded immortal overlord would melt into a mare who would play with pillows and conduct saucy pranks after spending half a year looking after a little filly? The Inquisitor chuckled to himself. It was a change he found himself welcoming.

“Master, I have news.”

The familiar voice of Thundersong, his secretary, caught his attention. The marsh-green pegasus was parted from her Overwatch uniform at his insistence, revealing a cutie mark of a clipboard and quill.

“Ah, Thundersong, enjoying the festivities?” He smiled at her.

“Yes,” she replied tonelessly. “The delegation from the Griffon Kingdoms has arrived. They are being entertained by the Empress and other members of the Council, but King Winfred of Heofonwolcen is eager to speak to you.”

“Is he? Well, I guess I shall go and meet with him. They’re in the front foyer, correct?” The secretary nodded. “I must go before my presence is further missed. Hold this, will you?” He placed his mug on Thundersong’s back and made for the reception hall.

Luckily, he was not too far away from the hall, and within a few minutes he arrived. The hall was one of the most lavishly decorated rooms in the palace, with a giant fir tree standing proud and tall in the centre. Equines of all tribes were loitering about the room, mixing with their griffon guests and making small talk. Eggnog, wine and mulled drinks were being carried by servants to any dignitary that desired to quench their thirst.

He spied Nightmare Moon talking to Marshall Silverstar, with little Twilight Sparkle standing shyly next to her. North Star was near them, chatting with members of the Council. With his family at his side, Blueblood had injected himself right into the middle of the griffon visitors, regaling them with a story – by the way he made sharp, triumphant gestures, it looked as though he was recounting a fight of some kind. He apparently reached a punchline, and the griffons all squawked with laughter. The Inquisitor plucked a glass of mulled wine from a passing waiter’s tray and made for the Empress, her student and the Marshall, certain that they would be the most gratifying company out of all the people in the room. He would certainly have a pleasant time while the griffon ambassador stewed in the frustration of having to wait.

His plans were dashed, however, when a tall griffon stepped into his path. “Ah, Lord Commander! I was hoping to talk to you.”

The ashen stallion knew his bespectacled interloper as the ruler of the griffon realm of Heofonwolcen, King Winfred. He was stark white all over, save for his black claws and the azure on his wings and around his eyes. He wore a rich suit coloured to match his wings with a cloth-of-gold cravat. Atop his brow rested a rather simple golden circlet declaring his kingship.

“And I you, Your Highness,” the Inquisitor managed a cool, amiable smile. “But please, call me Inquisitor.”

“Is that your name?”

The Inquisitor shrugged. “Of a sort. Now, what is it you wish to speak to me about?”

“We accepted your Empire’s invitation to this feast understanding that it would help soothe the tensions between our peoples.” Winfred pushed his spectacles back up his beak. “I know the cultural importance Hearth’s Warming day has for Equestrians, and the emphasis it places on unity, peace and understanding. I want nothing more than such things for Equestria and the Allied Kingdoms.”

The lie came easy to the Inquisitor. “As do I, hence my invitation.”

“Ah, but you were the one who insulted us several months ago. I was there when you made your threats, implied as they were. How can you say you support peace when you were the one who instigated the souring of relations between us?”

The Inquisitor waved a hoof dismissively. “You and I both know that inter-species goodwill has been in a decline for years now. I voiced my displeasure only after your fellow kings so brazenly threatened expansion into Equestrian territory.” He snorted softly. “In hindsight, perhaps there was impertinence from both sides that day. The military build-up along our border has alarmed both the public and the international community, neither of which has yielded positive results for either of us.”

Winfred nodded sagely. “Investment has plummeted in the past few months. I understand that your border regions were experiencing quite the recession before the mobilisation. I imagine this situation has only served to exacerbate things.”

“No more than for your nation. Poorer and more isolated than we are, it must be hurting the Griffon Kingdoms to have foreign investment slip away to regions with more peaceful prospects.” The Inquisitor allowed himself a smirk.

The hit to the economy had been expected, as was the usual posturing of other nations who wanted to look above war. Equestria would shrug off the recession in the north; those areas had always been poorer anyway. The griffons, on the other hoof, could not afford a similar recession. Troop movement and the new militarist bills passed in the Equestrian Parliament scared the market and investment and stocks plummeted. When war came, it would only get worse. Which was fine… perfect, even.

The griffon king seemed unimpressed by the Inquisitor’s comments. “It hurts everyone when the money-lenders tighten their purse-strings, even mighty empires like Equestria.” He pursed his flexible beak loosely and shrugged, apparently bored with the line of conversation. “I have heard interesting things from your Empress.”

The Inquisitor gave him an easy smile. “Well, she is an interesting mare, after all.”

Winfred did not return the smile. “Interesting things pertaining to the gifts that we were supposed to exchange.”

“Is that so?”

“Empress Nightmare Moon seems to believe that we had exchanged the gifts and were not in fact so grievously insulted by you withholding yours.” The king tilted his head forward, frowning over the rims of his spectacles. “I take it if I were to inform her of what really happened, you would fall from her favour, to say the least.”

“And who would Her Majesty believe: her closest and most trusted advisor or the stranger from an enemy nation that would benefit from an incident certain to humiliate her country?” The stallion’s glass rose to his lips, stopping just short of tipping the delectable holiday drink into his mouth when Winfred spoke up, voice stiff with frustration.

“My fellow kings and the numerous servants in attendance at the summit can corroborate my story.”

“And my servants and fellow representatives in that embassy can corroborate mine. Again, my word against yours.” The Inquisitor sipped his drink.

The griffon dignitary sighed and pinched the bridge of his beak. “I see I won’t be able to use this as leverage over you, nor will you apologise for something you will claim never happened.”

“I’m glad you realise that.”

Nonetheless,” the tiercel shot the stallion a sharp look. “I am willing to let bygones be bygones… to let this feast be the beginning of a clean slate.”

“And press ever forward to peace.” The Inquisitor smiled jovially and raised his glass to toast the words.

“Indeed. I think the first thing we can do is for both sides to order a demilitarisation of the border regions. Let the world see some progress.”

“It will be difficult to convince my government to withdraw our troops when the Allied Kingdoms continues to assert its claim on the Western Wilds. As your fellow kings have made it clear, they are willing to make threats to secure griffon-kind’s expansion.”

“Some are keen for war with Equestria, that much is true,” the king said, knitting his brows in obvious displeasure at the notion. “But surely a compromise can be worked out, so that both parties are satisfied?”

The Inquisitor scratched his neck. “Possibly. Your Allied Kingdoms might have to be satisfied with scattered enclaves. The borders between the Wilds and the Kingdoms have already been settled by ponies.”

“I suppose, though there are any number of possible solutions that will give us a corridor to any territories we can obtain in the Wilds.”

With a wave of his hoof, the Inquisitor ended further discussion. “I think that can be left to professional negotiators when the time comes. Are you looking forward to the feast?”

“I must admit I’m glad my liege lord selected me to attend this Hearth’s Warming Celebration not just for the opportunity for peace.” Winfred grinned. “I will be able to enjoy an extra feast before I return home for more Yuletide dinners.”

“Our chefs took into account your visit and have cooked some boar.”

“Ah, how traditional.” Winfred chuckled. “I must admit, I’m surprised that your chefs know how to cook boar.”

“We called in some Easterlings to help with the feast,” The Inquisitor explained.

“They do know their meats, but are you sure our food won’t cause offence?”

Some might be offended, and I can name a few who would go out of their way to be offended. Ponies were by and large a vegetarian race, though culture and famine often removed meat-eating as a taboo. Many equines in the world, particularly those of the strange reaches of Easterland and harsh north of Westerland, had appetites that were an anathema to most in Equestria. In certain places, eating meat was a time-honoured Hearth’s Warming tradition in remembrance of the necessities of the Windigos’ winter. In distant memory, the Inquisitor recalled the pain of hunger and the sweetness of cooked flesh that soothed his aches and kept him alive. The questions of morality in eating taboo foods were far from his mind back then.

The stallion shrugged. “It likely will for some of the more chauvinistic guests, but let them be offended, I say. Enjoy your meal regardless.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor, I will.” Winfred nodded his head and slipped away, returning to his fellow griffons, likely to inform them of the discussion recently finished.

The Inquisitor frowned after the king. It seemed the Allied Kingdoms truly desired peace, Winfred’s presence here said that much. The griffon was a renowned diplomat and an ardent pacifist. The Inquisitor had hoped they would send a firebrand such as King Eoforhild, so vocal a supporter for reclaiming the marches conquered by Equestria over a century before. It would not take much to provoke such a tiercel into causing an international incident.

He shrugged. I’ll make do. If I can’t get him to crack, I might just make it so unbearable for him he’ll beg to be replaced. The balance between appearing to desire peace and baiting his rival diplomats to make a mistake would be challenging to maintain. The Inquisitor smiled. Challenges were rare treats these days.

A peal of dignified laughter from across the room caught his attention. He slipped a casual, winning smile onto his lips and sidled up to the Empress, politely staying in her periphery as she finished speaking to Marshall Silverstar.

“Though as much as it would be funny to see Duke Blueblood in that position, I respect his station far too much to see it happen,” she said.

“Respect for the station and respect for the person often go side-by-side,” the Marshall stated. “How a pony holds themselves according to their station can affect the respect they deserve for their person, and they can irrevocably damage the respect some have for their station if they misbehave. Blueblood, I feel, can often lean too much on his heritage and status as duke. He interprets respect for his title as respect for him as a stallion.”

“True enough. No matter how many times I make it clear my respect is largely only for his title and the history behind it, he seems to think I hold his character in high regard.” Nightmare Moon turned to the Inquisitor with a small smile on her face. “But here is a stallion that I respect much more for his self than for his station. I saw you talking with the griffon king, Inquisitor. How did it go?”

“Winfred is a sterling griffon, Your Majesty, I think we will be making great strides towards a beneficial peace with his cooperation.”

“Good, peace is good. Is he looking forward to the feast?”

The Inquisitor nodded. “He was especially pleased about our ability to provide him with his people’s traditional holiday food.”

“Yes, well…” The Empress grimaced. “If our esteemed guests wish to consume… flesh then we must make sure they are provided for. For the sake of peace, of course.”

“Of course.” The Inquisitor’s eyes sparkled with mirth. The Empress was one of those ponies who realised personal biases should be ignored when trying to reach important goals, such as peace in this case. But she was no vocal pacifist. The Inquisitor knew the alicorn would gladly march to war, given the proper motivation.

“Perhaps peace with the griffons wouldn’t be best, though.” The elderly Silverstar’s bushy moustache twitched as he sniffed derisively at the notion of peace. “Both the griffon kings and our own nobles could learn some valuable lessons of humility from war.”

Nightmare Moon eyed him sternly. “War is never a good thing, and while sometimes it is a necessary evil, I would never go to war just so some people can learn humility. It would be a grievous waste to throw soldiers’ lives away just to teach a few hundred aristocrats a lesson.”

“But that lesson would yield a longer peace,” Silverstar assured. “The nobles will be reminded of the necessity of the central government and of obedience to Your Majesty while the griffons will have aggression and hostile energies beaten out of them. I think it would be best we swat them down now while they are not at full strength than giving them time to prepare themselves and grow stronger as a nation.”

I never took Silverstar for a warhawk. He always seemed much more interested in internal reform than imperial supremacy. “A funny thing to say for a veteran such as yourself, Marshall. I would have thought you of all ponies would do anything to protect the common soldier,” said the Inquisitor.

The Marshall fired a hard glare at his peer. “I am also a statespony and a general, Inquisitor. I would have thought you of all ponies would understand the need for sacrifice for the greater good. A short war to achieve a longer-lasting peace and guarantee Equestria’s ascendency is a fair price in my books.”

“I would like to avoid a war in any case,” the Empress said, fanning out her wings; a gesture to prevent her ministers entangling themselves in a heated argument. “I am sure we can have both ascendency and a long-lasting peace without the need to crush our northern neighbours.”

The Inquisitor pantomimed doffing an invisible hat in deference to his sovereign. “And does our little Twilight Sparkle have any input in this discussion?” Their eyes turned to the young apprentice at the Empress’s side.

Caught off-guard, Twilight froze, her eyes rapidly dancing between the three adults. Lingering on her mentor’s for a little while, she managed a shaky polite smile and stared at the Inquisitor. “I think the Empress has it best. War should only be a last resort, since while we’re not a hundred percent sure keeping the current peace would help Equestria maintain ascendency or make the peace long-lasting, we also can’t be a hundred percent sure that war will be similarly beneficial. Since we sustain much great short-term damages going to war than, it would be better not to gamble on the unproven conjecture of that option.”

“Well put, Twilight,” the Empress said, with a proud smile. “Though there are also moral reasons to not rush into war, not just practical ones. You would do well by me to remember that.”

Twilight lowered her eyes to the ground. “Yes Empress… I wasn’t thinking.”

“Oh, you were thinking quite a bit. You just failed to go certain directions in that thinking.”

The afternoon stretched on as the beginning of the feast came closer. The Inquisitor found it a delight to talk to Nightmare Moon and Silverstar. Their shared disdain for the nobility, though at differing intensities between them, proved a font of seemingly endless intellectual debate that descended into diatribes and diatribes that evolved into debates. Twilight remained an observer in their talks, staying half-hidden and silent at her mentor’s side unless addressed directly.

It was not that she had nothing to contribute. As with most similar conversations, the Empress would always ask for her input in their discussions and the young protégée would provide remarkably considered input. Twilight had no problem making herself heard when she was alone with one of the adults either, if what Nightmare Moon and Silverstar had told him and his own experience were anything to go by. Only in an official atmosphere, surrounded by a multitude of the powerful adults that roamed Canterlot Palace, did she become so shy. Half a year is not long enough to get used to these kinds of situations and personalities. Given time, she will likely enrapture a roomful of ponies with her monologues and counter-arguments.

The palace’s bell chimed four times and the Empress led the way to the great hall, where elaborate décor and pricey tableware had been provided for the enjoyment of the feasters. The table was shaped like a large, angular “U”, with two prongs jutting out towards the rest of the banquet hall. On these prongs, both sides of the table were occupied, whereas the Empress’s section of the table was left so that she sat opposite no one, having a grand view of the entire room. The Empress sat in the centre of her table, overlooking the rest of the banquet hall. To the left of her mahogany throne, Twilight Sparkle sat, eyes like the full moon absorbing all the festive majesty of the hall. The seat to the right was reserved for the Chancellor of Equestria, a title the Inquisitor had been happy to hold for centuries.

His was a chair with more glamour than the others; larger and with more intricate carvings. It was not much, but it was noticeable and all who looked at it would know he had a place above the rest of his fellow lords and ladies in the hall. It was always a point of contention with the more arrogant nobles, especially the Bluebloods, who could not stomach having what they thought of as an up-jumped commoner be respected above bloodlines that could be traced back to the fall of the alicorns.

The rest of the royal table’s seating arrangement was as flexible as always – none but the Chancellor, the Empress and now her protégée had a permanent seat. Duke Blueblood was one place further on from the Inquisitor, a seat worthy of his status, though he often had the honour of sitting on the Empress’s left. Now that spot had been taken over by Twilight, he had been forced to a seat further from Nightmare Moon every feast since the filly’s arrival. Many in the nobility were outraged at what they saw as a humiliation for their peer, never mind that the seat once had a new occupant every banquet. Beyond him was his son and select individuals from the griffon embassy, including the visiting king, mixed with ponies of the Imperial Council.

Silverstar sat next to Twilight, a happy arrangement for the both of them as Twilight often conversed with the old stallion like a story-hungry foal with their well-lived grandfather. To the left of him was High Praise, the High Priestess of Canterlot, and then came North Star and Duchess Lyrica, Blueblood’s wife, as well as more griffon ambassadors and Equestrian Councillors.

Nightmare Moon spread her wings and raised her head in an attention-grabbing gesture.“We are gathered here a week before Hearth’s Warming Eve to celebrate the events of that night so long ago, where unity, understanding and friendship triumphed over petty differences. This triumph lasted but a moment, but it was a moment that forever changed history. Let us hope that the same qualities will bring us triumph in the future and secure peace between Equestria and the noble griffons of the Allied Kingdoms.” She nodded to King Winfred, a formal, respectful smile on her lips, and the motion was returned by the griffon dignitary. She lifted a glass of wine off the table. “To unity, understanding and friendship. To peace in our time.”

Glasses were raised and the room echoed “Peace in our time.”

The feast then began, with dishes brought in by servants from the side doors quickly filling the table with a colourful smorgasbord of food. Nut roasts and squash tarts and pumpkin pies were laid out in front of the diners. Pastas stuffed with spinach and pastries filled with mushrooms were accompanied by plates of roasted potatoes, parsnips and onions. A seemingly endless supply of even more foods, both traditional and exotic, was paraded out and set on the tables, glazed and sauced by honey, cheese, cranberry and gravy. Even the promised meat was brought out for the griffons; fat succulent hams and a great roasted boar.

Such a feast made many mouths water, and while he wanted nothing more than to tuck in, the Inquisitor knew it was protocol for the room to wait for the Empress to finish dishing herself up. She did so with some haste, knowing full well how much her fellow feasters wanted to begin. It was all likely the very best food any of them had seen, expertly garnished so it would be a delight to the eyes as well as the tongue.

When the Empress was done, the room burst into life with talk and activity, ponies reaching for and passing around plates and bowls. The constant stream of voices carried in the hall and gave the feast a boisterous ambiance. Conversations drifted up to the royal table and clashed together to the sound of a rushing waterfall. The Inquisitor was a practiced eavesdropper, though, and he cocked his ears to various ponies and griffons around the table.

Predictably, the thirty-second Blueblood immediately struck up a dialogue with the griffon embassy, trying not to gag at the sight of the meat being devoured. There was opportunity to be had in making a good impression with visiting delegates, and Blueblood could be a capable sycophant when it was prudent. His son listened intently, backing his father when he could and interjecting only now and then. The Inquisitor guessed the whole exercise was in part a lesson to the younger Blueblood of the arts of the silver tongue. Whatever it was, the Duke dominated the conversation on half of the royal table.

The other half of the table held much more varying conversations. High Praise chatted with North Star and joked with Silverstar, managing to get the cynical stallion to crack a humoured smile more than once – a respectable achievement. The Marshall and the Empress spent much of the feast entertaining the little foal between them. Twilight listened to Silverstar’s anecdotes and Nightmare Moon’s commentary of many of the key figures of the banquet, both informative and as enjoyable for the filly.

The Inquisitor had already found it curious that Blueblood’s wife had sat with North Star. He grew truly intrigued when, after the Empress had finished her toast, they burst into lively conversation, whispering and gossiping and laughing and paying little attention to personal space. He strained to hear them, but they were too far away from him and their voices did not carry over the din of multiple dinner-table conversations.

They ate their fill and talked the afternoon away until dessert came. While many diners were content with the main course, most continued the time-honoured holiday tradition of glutting their already stuffed bellies on sweets. The selection was delectable: mince pies and yule log cakes and spongy rolls and, of course, brandy-soaked Hearthswarming puddings.

As he savoured each bite of his pudding, the Inquisitor noted with some amusement that Twilight Sparkle had already scarfed down her yule log and was eyeing Silverstar’s untouched dessert hopefully. The old marshall laughed at her expression, but he gave her guardian a wary look.

“I’m not sure if Her Majesty would like you to have this. It’s alcoholic.”

Several pairs of eyes turned to the Empress.
“Oh, go ahead,” she said after some moment’s thought. “She’s only had a mouthful or so of wine, a cake infused with a little bit of brandy will not hurt her.”

Twilight’s gratitude was expressed in a joyful cry and she dove for the treat. The Inquisitor smiled and looked about the room. It was a wonderful time of year – small wonder that winter was Nightmare Moon’s favourite season. Faces usually bereft of smiles like Silverstar and Duke Blueblood, bogged down in politics as they were, beamed. Blueblood was laughing at some joke King Winfred had cracked. Duchess Lyrica and the Hierophant snickered at some shared jest, likely at the expense of one of their fellow diners. High Praise, Nightmare Moon and Silverstar all chuckled at the wonderfully foalish lack of propriety with which Twilight tackled her dessert. Beyond the dais, every face was lit with merriment as they filled themselves with good food and good company.

A fit of coughing brought his attention back to the royal table. Twilight clutched at her chest with teary eyes and Nightmare Moon clicked her tongue.

“I did warn you about eating too quickly, did I not, Twilight?”

The filly gave no response. Her coughs quickly faded into choked gasps and her moist eyes went wide and red with panic.

Nightmare Moon slapped her apprentice’s back. “Twilight?”

An unexpected burst of fear gripped the Inquisitor’s heart as Twilight’s face turned a blotchy red. He knew these symptoms better than most. He leapt from his seat, his horn spilling forth antidotal magic just as Twilight fell wheezing to the floor. Nightmare Moon’s scream shook the hall.

TWILIGHT!

Comments ( 399 )

Yes it's updated, please don't fill up the comments section with words of astonishment that it's active or jokes on how it's finally alive or other spam.

Kenny #2 · Aug 21st, 2014 · · 2 ·

I need to start this all over again..
I started it so long ago, I can barely remember what happened.

Now here is the question... Did Twilight choke by accident or was this a plot... We already know that it wasn't the Inquisitor, but perhaps the Griffins or the Bluebloods...

I wonder if Twilight will get to cuddle with Nighty again.

reading now. Also, sorry for the chapter title joke when I first started the comment.

... "international incident" huh. :trixieshiftright:

Oh noes! Twiley!:fluttercry:

POISON.

OH THE TWISTS. You sneaky pony you.

Well it just got a lot easier for Luna to justify crushing the griffons underhoof. I simultaneously love and hate that :pinkiegasp:

Masterfully done. Your fiction is one of my favorites, and I am glad to see it updated. Your characterization of Nightmare Moon, Twilight, and the Inquisitor are always top-notch. That being said, I hope you will not leave us hanging for long. Can you give an approximate time frame on when the next update is?

Very nice chapter. Although, that line you used. "To Peace in our time". Isn't that what Neville Chamberlain said before WWII began? If so, nice foreshadowing. Also, I'm going to guess that it was either an unknown entity, the nobility (though this is unlikely) or the Inquisitor who poisoned Twilight. Nonetheless, great work and update soon!

Oh my, this is going to cause some ruffled feathers

Nice work! Though, I wonder... Did the Inquisitor (or a nobility) place the poison in order to start a war with the griffons, or did one of the griffons try to kill Silverstar?

Wow, that's quite the cliffhanger. Here's hoping you don't make us wait too long to see the aftermath!

Though if yu need the time that's obviously fine :twilightblush:

Delayed assassination attempt;
Below low level magic poison draft mixed into the cakes, to an adult pony the effects wouldn't be visible for months but to a filly/colt they would 5 mins or less before their own magic starts burning away they life-force.

Offenders: Changelings,
Reason: War with Griffons makes it easier to abduct and replace,
Leader(s): Chrysalis and _____ (Griffon region Changeling Queen)

I did a Twilight YES! dabnce seeing this updated.

And a better prank would be NMM going out as Celestia:twilightsmile:

and what is Inquistor's game? is he with the dawnist or working on his own.

OOOhhh and poison. Some one is going to die. No one messes with Twilight.

The black eyes beneath the mask flicked to left of the alicorn, where North Star stood, then regarded the Empress with an unasked question. For some reason, Nightmare Moon felt the need to explain.

For some reason I love this a lot. Nice touch.

This is truly excellent, adorableness, scandal, warmth and an assassination attempt all in one chapter.
The assassination attempt was particularly marvellous, timed just right to catch me off guard.

Antidote magic? Sounds a bit convenient, especially if the assassin wasn't counting on it.
Also *shakes with barely contained excitement at the prospect of a beloved story being renewed* you did a nice job with this chapter.

4885201 I think it was poison or a cleverly disguised hex.

anyway loved the chapter as always, though I still want to see Nightmare hugging Twilight next chapter.:twilightsmile:

My question would be why they're trying to poison the marshal. I suppose he's an old duffer and they can afford to lose him, but... well that assumes that the poisono was placed by an Equestrian. What I can't work out (yet) is why the griffins would want to bump him off, unless they see him as a threat. And I suppose they might, if word of his view about a decisive pre-emptive war in exchange for longer peace had become known to them.

Ahh, but then... why did he not eat his dessert? Perhaps he poisoned it knowing Twilight would eat it, and knowing that the Inquisitor would recognise the signs and—you know what? My head hurts. I'm going to go and lie down before I turn into a conspiracy nut.

I really enjoy this story. Thank you! :twilightsmile:

It's a great chapter, I say.

Very well done, although I don't understand the way you put Nightmare Moon and North Star as sexies characters. It seems so... cliche for a Halloween theme. Like something put for pandering, not that I'm accusing you of this. But it's come as weird, like watching Fight club and suddendly there is a cameo by Weird Al during one of the fights.

The second part was the massive jump from the Hallows eve to Herthwarming. Since it was done so abruptly I needed to re-read it just to understand what has happened, mainly because technically there is no ending to the hallow's part.

The way you described the feast was great, enough to water the mouth but not going to the extreme a la Wheel of time. The way you resolved the problem with the griffon kingdom was excellent. I was honestly annoyed by this part, because it sounded like a plot hole, but you are right: Nightmare would believe instantly the inquisitor over the griffon evidence, since they are almost at war and you had shown that the ponies and griffon had have a very strained history

As for questions:

Gallpofrey is done as a pun to doctor who?
How can poines process meat if they are most herbivores? Wouldn't that cause food poisoning to the famine population, killing them anyway?
Did the inquisitor used another poni as a table?
How chubby is the inquisitor?
Do the inquisitor really likes twilight or just considered as a favored, if disposable, pawn?

And the most urgent question of all:

How do the monarchy works in equestria? How is the political ground structured? Is an absolute monarchy? A feudal construction with khnigts and nobles holding parts of the army and paying taxes to the crown? Is there a difference between noble blood and merchant barons? How much is the gap between the rich and the poor? Do the middle class exist as the Renaissance era? The industrial revolution? Or there are only experts and free ponies in equestria?

Even so, excellent chapter. Great construction, excellent characterization, well managed the monologues, the way you created the political ground to the party was amazing and the ending, a well done twist.

8/10.

Nightmare Moon spreadher wings and raised her head in an attention-grabbing gesture.

Spotted a spacing issue. It's more towards the end of the chapter, first sentence of the paragraph.

Excellent chapter! I always look forward to this story when it updates. It's become an absolute favorite of mine.

Oh wow, an update! I really adore the change Twilight brings out in Nightmare Moon - we see a little less of an overarching, closed-off ruler, and more of... well, Luna and her playfulness and boisterousness and her clearer morals. It's a funny twist that she's serving as Twilight's moral compass instead of the other way around, but understand it and I rather like it. They both encourage the best in each other, even if Twilight doesn't realize just what a change she's wrought.

Oh no at the ending! D: Looks like the Inquisitor's going to get that war he wanted... though it seems like he honestly didn't know about the poison, where I normally wouldn't have put it past him to set it up. I'm guessing this was a pony setup, not a griffon one.

Alright, gush comment time. Sorry, folks.

I love this story, mainly for two reasons. Okay, three.

First, you've done an amazing job with this setting. I've always wanted to explore the "faithful student" period, and this exploration satisfies, even though it's got the one big twist to it (nice job with that too, love your older-and-wiser Nightmare Moon and eternal-night Equestria). You've captured Twilight's princess relationship exactly how it should be according to the show, you've given the princess personality and depth that can't really be expressed in the show (even though it's a different princess), and woven it all with subplots and characters that apparently kept people waiting months for an update (I just found this story last week. Lucky me!). Good on you, Municipal Engines. I'd love to hear how you sat down and figured this period out plot-wise.

Second: those characters. Specifically THAT character, the Inquisitor. When he first showed up, my thoughts were, "Oh no, scary guy. Real evil behind the throne. Surely he's not plotting anything against his leige, or has a secret plot-twist secret, or despises all things true and just and protagonistic, Arche help us!"
But boy was I proven wrong. For outwardly having some major bad-guy cliches, the Inquisitor is actually one of the most complex, balanced, and believable characters I've seen on this site. What makes him stand out from the rest of the ponified Darth Vaders and Snapes is his dynamic relationships with the other characters. His comfort with Nightmare Moon, smirk-inducing banter with North Star, one-sided silent "game" with Blueblood, respectful manipulation of Silverstar, and especially his bemused fondness for Twilight; all of these make him something memorable. Even most other memorable villains have kind of a relationship policy thing going on: grovel and obey superiors while it suits you, treat your underlings like slaves and dole out hearty punishments like gold stars, belittle and toy with protagonists with extreme prejudice and sarcasm, and generally be a snarky jerk to your colleagues and former friends. Most villains do it because it makes them look evil to the reader. Everything the inquisitor does, however, sets him up as an intelligent being with emotions, virtues and vices.
Heck, if it weren't for the little bits of semi-subtle manipulation cleverly planted among the endearing moments, I might almost forget he's supposed to be the bad guy. Except for the imagery from the beginning, that is. That cloak and color scheme are burned into my mind (leather and furs on purpose, right? I got it. Thanks for mixing up his wardrobe later). As it is, I really get a sense that everything he says and does branches either from his plans or from his personality, and that's an amazing thing to see in a story. Great writing. I can tell you put a lot of planning into this.
I can tell there's a lot in store for this guy. He gets more attention to detail and more variety of experience than anyone else, so it's a good bet he's really important. Anyone want to take that bet? Will he (a) turn out to be an agent/aspect of Cheimon and coldly betray empress, filly, and rival alike; (b) fail prematurely in his schemes and pull a Discus in shame, turning to the moon for dubious help; or (c) sacrifice himself to stop the Lord of Light, redeeming himself of the plans foiled before bearing fruit by bigger problems? What do y'all think? (PM me if you want those taken down, M.E. ;)

Third: Dat mythos. This is one of the most thorough and fascinating historical headcanons I've found yet. I love it, and I want more. Discord explained beautifully and seamlessly, with frightening implications for Cheimon's power, aogughiejgasm. Please write prequels. Please do. This is the sort of thing I wish would become widely-accepted, so we could maybe see Arche and the War of Black and Red in other writers' stories. How would you feel about that? I don't think i'll ever post stories myself (too self-conscious!), but would you be happy to see your ideas used explicitly elsewhere, or do you impose honor-code copyright?

Anyway, thanks for reading this through. Had to get this off my chest after my other comment got me thinking. Oh, and M.E.? You might want to check the "gawk/amusingly astonished" part in this chapter. I think you wrote the same thing twice. Anyway, thanks for your work. Looking forward to that email notification!

Oh dear, that's not good.

I gotta say I greatly enjoyed this chapter. It was a treat to read and see Nightmare Moon loosen up a little bit on All Hallow's Eve. That was all much fun to read. The Hearth's Warming festivities were fun to read also, although the Inquisitor's machinations make me wonder about him sometimes. He seems loyal, yet seems like he's trying to stir up conflict too which seems counterproductive. He also seems genuinely concerned about Twilight's wellbeing.

Speaking of Twilight's wellbeing, I have a feeling "Homicidal Nightmare mode" was just activated in Nightmare Moon. She's going to go on a rampage even if Twilight survives I feel. She's not felt much for others in some time and now that she's connected to Twilight, any threat to her is going to be met with a lot of rage and excessive force.
As for who did it, I think it was Silverstar. He's talking about feeling a war is for the best. About how sacrifices must be made for the greater good. And he just happens to be sitting by Twilight and not eating his dessert? I pin it on Silverstar. He doesn't like the "weakness" he sees Twilight bringing to his empress. He feels a need to cause a war with the griffins, so kill two birds with one stone. Poison/kill Twilight, and pin it on the griffons for trying to off Silverstar due to his policies. Nightmare's free of the "bad" influence of Twilight and her rage is directed at the Griffon kingdoms. A win/win in Silverstar's mind.

That's my conspiracy theory on this turn of events at least. :pinkiecrazy:

Comment posted by LightningFlashCJ deleted Aug 21st, 2014

4885201 some pony attempted to off the Marshal and got twilight by accident and based on his reaction I don't think it was the inquisitor, Blueblood or maybe Northstar.

Great chapter! Updates to NFC is always the highlight of the day when they happen.

The intended target for that cake seems to have been Silver Star; the real questions are why and who? Some of the more militant Griffons back in the Allied Kingdoms, maybe? It's possible they wanted to engineer an incident to worsen relationships enough to goad Equestria into a war. If so, they probably saw the pacifistic King Winfred as counter-productive to their purposes and a favorable trade to take out the veteran strategist Marshall Silverstar.

Very intriguing. I'm looking forward to the next chapter! :pinkiehappy:

Huh. So, somepony tried to poison Silverstar, but due to random luck Twilight took the hit. Boy, I wouldn't want to be in that room when Nightmare discovers her surrogate daughter nearly dies.

Well, just had to leave on a wonderful cliffhanger, hmm? This was very good! A nice jovial tone until the ending bit there. Quite happy to see it!

I don't think the Inquisitor was responsible for this one, if only because the chapter was in his POV at the end. I wouldn't put it past him though. Really this seems to be an attempt on Silverstar gone off target, since it was, presumably, his dessert the poison came from. This means the culprit is probably one of the nobles, or maybe the griffons given his attitude towards going to war. However, if the poison was from something Twilight had beforehand, then it opens up other possible subjects, up to and including the resistance group behind her orphanage as a last ditch attempt to make sure a unicorn of her potential power doesn't become a deep grained NMM supporter.

4885289 To be fair it wasn't Twilight's dessert that had the poison. So rule out the nobles, Inquisitor is... I don't know.

He knows the poison better than most, is it because HE had it used? and if so was it supposed to reach the marshall? He's a valid military target, plus if he's out of the way it's likely that NMM would be forced to lead the military campaign taking her out of Canterlot, making a revolution easy.

This also makes sense for the gryphons, take out the military leader and draw the real leader to the battlefield to kill her, that's all they need for victory.

Or did it not matter who got it, he would have easily been able to avoid the poison snack and at so high profile an event ANYONE getting poisoned is going to seriously risk a war, especially if someone stokes the flames.

I don't see the pacifist signing off on that plan.

Also we're forgetting the little revolution movement that's running in the background, they wouldn't have that hard a time trying to infiltrate... maybe the rum cake was destined for NMM?

4885146 (I am so sorry about this. Yes i know im awfull) MUHUHAHAHA! ITS ALIVE HAHAHA!

I have to admit I didn't see that ending coming from such a joyful chapter. That was a pretty brutal cliffhanger which is going to suck to wait for. At least the Inquisitor seemed to save her at the end. Good chapter.

Forgot how good this was, keep up the good work!

Empress Nightmare Moon in a maid costume, cheering for the death of all tyrants? 2ironic4me
Though I couldn't stop laughing at all the reactions to her costume.

Oh good lord, someone tried to poison Silverstar at a gathering of foreign diplomats, Equestrian nobles, and the Empress herself? Seems more like they were trying to send a message to someone or cause an upset rather than actually try to kill Silverstar, else he'd have been poisoned alone in his own home. Poor Twilight. Watch her just be allergic to brandy.

[Edit] Or else it was one of the griffons, who wouldn't get many opportunities; my final guess though is that it's someone trying to frame the griffons.

Your writing seems to have gotten better with the wait over the last year. I truly am happy with the outcome, giving me a good solid hour or reading. Looking forward to the next installment. :yay:

Interesting.

We can easily rule out the Inquisitor as the poisoner. He already manipulates Silver Star, and so has reasons to keep the stallion alive. He also cares a lot about Twilight, and would not have let her been poisoned.

The griffons seem the most likely at first, but I also feel that they are not to blame. If anyone were to poisoned by the griffons, it would be the Inquisitor. He, after all, was the one who insulted them in their own home. Silver Star, on the other hand, is an old, blooded warrior. He is the kind of person the griffons would respect, and would be honored to kill on the battlefield, and shamed to kill him with poison. This combined with a well known pacifist and diplomat being sent, seems to indicate that they may be framed, but didn't do it. It is possible that a lone griffon acted, but I suspect the griffons as a whole did not organize this.

So this leads into my next guess...the Equestria Nobility. Silver Star is a well known hater of the nobility. I could easily see a noble poisoning Silver Star and framing the griffons. Probably a northern noble, who hopes to win glory and fame and money on the battlefield. After all, Silver Star did say they needed to be humbled. The noble(s) may be wanting a war, and see this as a way to get it while removing a rival. This is my theory.

Finally, I suppose it could be a third party, but I see this as rather unlikely. Security is going to be incredibly tight at a peace conference, so tight I doubt the best changeling could get in. NMM is much more into security, what with an active rebellion on her hands. I highly doubt another group infiltrated the party, though they may have motive.

I am glad this is still going.

4885897

He also cares a lot about Twilight, and would not have let her been poisoned.

Eh... I think you should re-read a little. He's USING Twilight, so long as she's useful to him.

Should she prove an inconvenience, he'd have no qualms about eliminating her... and pinning it on one of his other enemies. Plus, let's not forget his mind-control powers. He could force another pony to poison her and none would be the wiser.

It's more than abudantly clear he CARES about no one but himself and whatever wicked goal he has in mind.

I'll only feel safe about him when his head is rolling at my feet... on fire... and I confirm that his soul is burning in torment eternally in Tartarus. Seriously, I take nothing for granted with villains like him.

4885201 It is quite obvious she was poisoned.

At any rate, the poisoner is VERY sloppy.

Only a blithering idiot of an assassin, with all the magical tools in their world at their disposal, would utilize a fast-acting poison in the presence of many magical ponies who might possess the means to counter it.

An even slightly clever assassin would use a slow-acting toxin, perhaps one that activates only when the target is asleep, and thus they die helplessly.

A fast-acting poison is only a good idea when you are nowhere near the target when it's consumed. It is especially unwise when the target is in an enclosed place with figures of authority who can order the entire area sealed (and magically create a shield to boot).

The only reason for the assassin to use a poison that kills instantly is if someone disposable was tricked into administering it and nothing can lead back to the real assassin.

(You gotta study this sort of thing... it can always come in useful one day... :pinkiecrazy: )

4885988
Gotta take into account it was a small filly that had just previously consumed alcohol.

4885942
I disagree. You can use someone and be willing to kill them, yet still care about them.

4885988
Sure there is a good reason for a fast acting poison: Sending a message.

4886013 A magical poison or a slow-acting one still wouldn't activate immediately. This has all the hallmarks of a frame job, albeit one which regardless may have hit an unintended target.

4885526

That would be a rather risky plan though. If Nightmare Moon hadn't allowed Twilight to to eat the alcoholic dessert, he would have needed to eat it himself to not raise suspicion. There are way too many what if's to let this be a good plan. Besides, laying out false clues that would indicate, that some foreign diplomats poisoned a dessert that has been prepared in Canterlot/Kitchens would be very hard without leaving behind traces. As for trying to kill Twilight to remove her influence on the princess, that would be a rather foolish move and not fit to his position. Silverstar appears as a stallion who does things because they are right (or at least his opinion of right). This is a thing he has in common with Twilight, who also listens to reason (even more than to moral rules, as it seems in this chapter.)
In addition NMM clearly listens to her opinion. This makes her an important possible ally against Blueblood and the nobles. Because of that, even if Silverstar acted out of selfishness and with vile motives (which I don't really believe right now), trying to convince her to support his opinion to the Empress would be a way better plan than killing her.
Blueblood or Northstar (or the inquisitor who obviously didn't do it) would be the most likely to have done it. However, I do agree that this seems a little too obvious.:unsuresweetie:

4886143 :rainbowhuh:

Please explain how that is remotely possible.

By any manner of thinking, if you are merely using someone and are willing to kill them off... it's rather difficult to believe that one could ever 'care' about them.

4886160 And if that's the case, the poisoner would almost certainly not be in the room.

At the very least, the poisoner would not be foolish enough to have administered the poison at that time. It would have been added while the dishes were still outside, thus casting widely the net of suspicion.

As I said the ONLY reasons the person who actually added the poison would still be in the room would be a) he/she is exceedingly stupid, or b) he/she has been mind-controlled into doing it, and we know of at least one 'pony' (the still jury's out on his actual form) capable of totally altering someone's memories.

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