• Published 3rd Dec 2012
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Myths and Birthrights - Tundara



Twilight has to deal with new powers and troubles as an Alicorn.

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Book One: Chapter Seven: Family

Myths and Birthrights
By Tundara

Book One: Awakening and Arrivals
Chapter Seven: Family


The Citadel of Light was burning.

Her breath coming in long, laboured gasps, Shyara ran down the corridors as the walls trembled and shook. Passing a window, she saw the stones launched from the trebuchets of the Olympian's armies, burning pitch billowing trails of sparks and smoke in their wake. The night sky was covered by the fiery tails, as if ten thousand stars were crashing down on the Citadel. Closing her eyes, Shyara screamed for her mother as she rounded a corner and the Citadel’s shield groaned under the bombardment.

All around her she could feel the energies of her aunts, cousins, and mother. Some were weak and thready, while others flared and then dimmed. Among her family Shyara sensed other energies, those given off by the Olympians. There were too many and they kept moving so quickly that Shyara didn't know which way to run, so she just ran, twisting and weaving through the corridors of the crumbling Citadel.

The steady deep rumble of hurled boulders and barrels of exploding pitch reverberated through the citadel and Shyara's bones. The smell of burning hair and thick smoke filled the filly's nostrils while the shrieks and cries of wounded combined with sharp reports of metal striking metal to drown out her own voice.

Deeper and deeper she went, her small hooves skipping and sliding occasionally as she encountered slick red pools on the polished marble. She tried not to think of what the pools were, to push the thoughts out of her mind and focus instead on running and not falling.

Laughter ahead of her made her skid to a halt.

Minotaurs, three of the bull headed monsters, stood blocking her path. Just past the minotaurs stood the door to Tyr's chambers. The thick steel banded oak had been splintered and torn open; a thin trail of crimson leaked through the opening and was splashed on the wall. There were no signs of the Guards that watched over and protected Shyara's cousin.

Shyara stood, still as a statue, wishing she could disappear or slink away through the wall. It was an unbecoming feeling for the young alicorn, one she was becoming more and more familiar with experiencing since the siege began. With slow, deliberate steps she began to move away. Shyara stopped, chewing on her lip as she looked at the broken doors. Was Tyr still in her room? Straining her ears, Shyara tried to listen for any noises emanating from beyond the minotaurs, but only heard the continually dull roar and rumble of the bombardment.

Shyara glanced back the way she’d come. If Tyr had been near, Shyara held no doubt that her cousin would have been putting up a fight, or at least yelling for her appointed guardian. Content that Tyr had been taken to a place of safety or was already captured—Shyara unable to do anything in either case—she again started to slip away, only to step onto a shard of parceline with an echoing crack.

The three brutes turned as one to the sound, their eyes glinting with bloodlust and cruelty as they settled on Shyara.

"A Godling," the largest of the minotaurs shouted, pointing an arm bulging with muscles towards the filly. "Get her and bring her to Lord Ares."

"Stop! Take one step towards me and I’ll use my magic on you," Shyara growled, hoping she projected strength and confidence, but feeling her legs shaking.

The two minotaurs that had started towards her paused, looking towards their leader for guidance. Snorting, he pushed past his subordinates and with slow measured strides made his way towards Shyara. "She's just a Godling, they ain't got no magic yet."

A triple headed flail extended from his large meaty hand, the spiked steel balls sparking as they slammed into the marble floor. Shyara gulped, swiftly backing away from the towering brute.

"Go ahead, little one, use your magic. Rip the flesh from my bones. Crack my chest so I can see the last beats of my heart. Tear the bones from my body. Do it."

Shyara stepped back at the minotaur's vile grin, a slight chill sweeping up her spine. Setting her jaw, she tried to conjure her magic. All that came were a few sputtering silvery-blue sparks that died skipping along the marble and the minotaur's hooves. Gasping for breath, Shyara felt her tentative grip on her magic slip as she backed up against the wall.

"Pathetic."

The minotaur reached down towards Shyara, the terrified alicorn filly unable to look away from the monster's grim, red eyes. A flash of silver blurred between them, the minotaur's arm sailing through the air in a spray of crimson viscera. Howling, the minotaur clutched at the stump of his right arm, his flail crashing to the ground. He’d only begun to turn towards his attacker when an iron blade thrust through his chest, hot blood splashing across Shyara's face.

Dead, the minotaur fell to the side revealing his killer.

"Trixelion!" Shyara exclaimed, never more happy in her eighty-five years to see a mortal.

Her savior didn't respond as she turned to face the two remaining minotaurs. The destruction of their leader had been so swift neither had time to realise what had just occurred. Hefting axe or sword, the two monsters appraised their foe.

Trixelion was tall and slender, her fur dyed a rich violet and covered in a gilded bronze hauberk. Her silver mane draped down her shoulders from beneath a war-helmet. Through a hole in the helm was a short rounded horn glowing with blue-white magic. Beside her hovered a long bladed cavalry sword, her magic only visible around the golden hilt. Painted on the flanks of her armour was the great twelve pointed star of Astraea, the Goddess of the Stars.

Keeping her eyes trained on the Minotaurs, Trixelion said, "Lady Shyara, stay low, I will protect you." To the minotaurs she then added, "Foul beasts, what have you done with the Lady Tyr? Where is she?"

"Lord Ares already has that one," the left minotaur chuckled, fingers tightened like knots on the haft of his axe.

Hiding behind the dead alpha minotaur, Shyara tried to watch the confrontation. She had heard in song and legend the tales of Heroes and how they fought, and Trixelion was one of the greatest heroes ever as far as she was concerned. For a long moment the two sides stared at each other, and then in rush of clanking metal and sparks, both sides charged.

The minotaurs never stood a chance against Trixelion.

Ducking and weaving, the dragoon avoided their sloppy attacks with practiced ease. The tip of her sword spun around the axe wielding minotaur's guard, slicing across and through his neck. Dropping onto her knees, Trixelion slid beneath the other minotaur. Jumping back up to her hooves, she spun and, with a resounding crack, shattered the monster's nearest knee. The beast's screams flowed through the corridor. Screams that were quickly silenced in a bubbling gurgle.

"Pitiful, I would have expected more from Minotaurs," Trixelion spat as she turned and trotted towards Shyara, her blade sliding into its sheath along her side. "My Lady, you are—”

The remainder of Trixelion’s question vanished, the dragoon twisting around with a snarl. Bits of stone and debris clattered off her armour, cast in a shower as a war-maul, covered in spikes and trailing a curtain of gore, shattered the floor where Trixelion had been standing. Around the maul’s shaft, a halo of ghastly green magic flickered and danced, cackling madly at the hero.

“Mephodon,” Trixelion snarled, pulling her sword once more from its sheath.

“Indeed,” chuckled a voice, thick and heavy with malice, from the dark remains of Tyr’s chambers. “I suspected somepony would come looking for the fallen godling; a brave would-be hero. Seems I was right, as is normal.”

From the room, Mephodon stepped. His coat was steely blue-grey, his hooves cracked and black as soot. Yellow teeth, mane, and eyes shone with hungry glee, staring deep into Trixelion’s own. A hulking brute, Mephodon was easy to mistake for a small horse, and not a pony, his un-armoured hide rippling with brutish power. Scars criss-crossed his withers and back, creating a web of white lines as if they were made by a drunk spider spinning a web. From the center of his brow, like a proud lance, thrust a horn, a string of teeth entwined around its length, each tooth taken from a pony slain by his own hooves.

King of Arien, General of Lord Ares’ armies, and the God of Slaughter’s chosen champion; there was nopony among those supporting the Olympians that was more dangerous or deadly.

“Lady Shyara, stay back,” Trixelion commanded, leaping forward, blade descending in a graceful arc towards Mephodon’s neck.

He challenged Trixelion with a thundering roar, batting aside her blade with the butt of his hammer.

Shyara stood transfixed by the battle unfolding before her. Fluid speed and skill against brutal strength and domination, Trixelion and Mephodon circled each other, striking again and again. While sword and hammer spun and smashed, both champions launched spells, hot and furious, one after another in a crescendo of flashing booms until the walls melted from the heat of expended aether. Shyara couldn’t begin to follow the fight, the participants moving with a speed and fury that defied reason. One moment Trixelion hovered with a levitation charm, the next the great blocks of marble from the ceiling were falling around her, she dodging this way and that, seeking an opening in her opponent’s defenses while Mephodon merely hurled the debris aside. Blue aether crackled across corridor as Trixelion summoned a spell; several Trixelion lept from one spot, each bringing magic and blade to bear.

For a moment it seemed Trixelion was in a half-dozen places at once, attacking Mephodon from every angle simultaneously. The clones or illusions were crushed as one, Mephodon banishing them in a burst of pure aether, before striking Trixelion across the cheeks, the blow shattering her helmet and sending her sprawling across the jagged stone.

Stampeding towards Trixelion, the dragoon shaking her head to clear it even as she rolled to the side, Mephodon triumphantly crowed, “Victory through death!” She moved too slow to avoid Mephodon’s blow, his hammer descending with sickening glee towards her back. A resounding snap struck Shyara’s ears, pressing them against her head as Trixelion screamed. Her hind hooves twitching, Trixelion lay pinned to the floor.

Ever defiant, she spat in Mephodon’s face, making him turn his head for a moment. In that instant, her blade, held in the remains of a faint, flickering aura, descended. Mephodon noticed the blade to late, jerking his head aside. Sparks flew as the iron edge shattered his horn, cleaving off the final third of its length.

Howling as raw aether spilled in a hissing torrent, Mephodon staggered back on his hind hooves, fore hooves pressed against the wound as if they could stem the flow. Madness infecting his gaze, he began to regain his senses, only to be struck in the face by a plain blast of telekinetic energy that sent him tumbling through the shattered walls and begin the long fall to the valley floor.

Gasping for breath, Trixelion called for Shyara, propping herself against one of the marble blocks littering the once pristine hallway.

“Lady Shyara, you are unharmed I pray," Trixelion asked.

"Y-yes, I'm alright," Shyara mumbled, her eyes fixated on the hole Mephodon had fallen through, expecting him to re-appear at any moment. “W-we have to get moving… and find mother. She’ll know what to do.”

“Agreed, but you’ll have to go without me.” Trixelion placed a hoof on Shyara’s wither, turning the young alicorn towards the unbroken segment of the Citadel, where, hopefully, the defenders were rallying.

“I can’t!” Shyara protested immediately, ears pressing flat against her head at the thought of wandering through the citadel alone again. “Come with me, I demand it.”

Giving a low laugh, Trixelion smiled.

“If but I could. My back has been broken and my aether is spent.”

“But…” Shyara shook her head, trying to deny the truth in Trixelion’s words.

Trixelion looked away from Shyara and to the night sky, visible barely through the unending bombardment. “It is good to see the stars again.”

"N-no, you can’t leave me—" Shyara's voice faltered as she became aware of an alicorn heading straight towards her.

Before Shyara could call out a warning or duck, the remainder of the walls exploded. Shards of stone skipped off Trixelion's armour and Shyara's coat as the dragoon drew the filly to her with the last of her strength, shielding Shyara from the jagged splinters. Blinking and coughing through the dust, Shyara let out a strangled gasp.

"Mom!" she cried, trying to leap forward only to be stopped by Trixelion. "Let me go, that's my mom!"

Trixelion’s legs drooped, releasing Shyara enough for her to squirm lose. Her hoof splashed down into a spreading red puddle, making her hesitate and turn to look back at her protector. Trixelion gazed back with lifeless eyes.

A half-strangled gasp parting her lips, Shyara jumped back from the dead champion, heart leaping into her throat. Through Trixelion’s back thrust a stone spear longer than the champion herself, its point poking out of her chest. The stone would have destroyed Shyara if Trixelion hadn’t intervened.

Before panic could take true hold, Shyara was struck by the presence of a third alicorn. Shyara recoiled, hissing in pain. It was like having boiling oil poured on her Awareness. The other alicorn could only be an Olympian, one filled with seething rage and sadistic glee at the carnage filling the Citadel. There were only two alicorns capable of taking pleasure in such slaughter and destruction. Both possibilities made Shyara tremble.

Through the thick dust Shyara could see a shadow stalk forward and stop before something propped against the wall, dull rust red magic making the his outline glow.

"This has been a pleasant game, but it comes to a close with you once more powerless at my hooves. You were supposed to be one of the strongest among us, only Father and Hemera your greater, and look at you. Broken, weak, and soon to be nothing but a memory and an echo that slowly fades from existence."

The dust settled as the Olympian spoke, revealing a massive red stallion covered in dull grey armour. Tears and dents covered the armour's surface, attesting to a life of constant conflict. A golden blonde mane fell haphazardly about his face and partially hid vibrant green eyes. On his flank stood three curved black swords forming an outward spiral. Beside the stallion hovered a short-spear, bits of gore and blood dripping from its surface.

The last of Shyara’s hope faded as she gazed in terror upon Ares, God of Slaughter.

Smiling, Ares said, "Don't think I don't know you are there, little Shyara. Fear not, I wont keep you from joining your fellow foals for long. You’ll complete the set, actually."

"No, Ares, you will not have them. With the last of my strength, I spit upon you. With the last of my will, I curse you. With the last of my love, I will save my herd. With the last of my magic, I will send them somewhere you can never reach them." Shyara's legs gave out as she heard the malice and fear in her mother's voice. "I will protect my daughter, always."

A wave of incredible magic spread across the night, and then, one by one, stars began to fall in silver lances, descending towards the besieged citadel. Before anypony could move or respond, a blinding wall of light expanded outwards from the rubble hiding Shyara's mother, engulfing the entire mountain.

Screaming, the filly jolted upright, her eyes darting madly for some sign of Ares, Trixelion, or her mother. All she saw was the brightly painted interior of Trixie's wagon.

"The nightmare again?" Trixie asked, the showmare rolling over on the bed to watch Shyara.

"Yeah."

"You don't... want to tell Trixie about it, do you? The Great and Powerful Trixie has travelled far and wide, maybe she can help."

Sighing, Shyara shrunk back into the thick quilts. Trixie waited long enough to see that the alicorn still wouldn't tell her about the nightmare before rolling over and closing her eyes.

"Well, try to get some sleep. We still have a long way to travel before we reach Vanhoover."

Giving a weak little nod, Shyara scooted a little closer to Trixie, closed her eyes, and was soon back to sleep. Trixie just rolled her eyes and laid her head back down on the pillows.

"Okay, Twilight, now, gently, reach out to the stars," Luna said, looking to Twilight as the two sat atop Twilight’s Tower.

Twilight nodded slowly, gulping back a feeling of apprehension. All around them, Equestria was wrapped in the hour for which she was named. A soft reddish haze lingered in the west while in the east the very edge of the moon could be seen on the horizon. Overhead there was only a blank inky tapestry, one that was waiting for Twilight to fill with her stars.

Her stars. That idea still seemed so foreign.

Closing her eyes, Twilight started to extend herself outwards, into the sky. She could feel and see Luna still beside her, the darker alicorn a white mist as the two reached towards their respective charges. At Luna's touch, the moon gave a contented sigh and greeted Twilight with a drowsy, ‘Hello.’ Twilight waved to the moon, or tried to, but it was difficult when she was a twinkling mass of purple stardust. Passing the moon and leaving Luna behind, Twilight climbed higher and higher. Ahead, she could see her destination, Polaris, the Lodestar gently sparkling as it slumbered.

"When you are ready, Luna," Twilight called down to the older goddess.

Luna swirled closer to the moon until they seemed to merge, and then, in a flair of silvery moonlight, both began to climb into the night. At the same time Twilight flowed closer to Polaris, her essence tingling so close to the star.

"Polaris, time to wake up," she cooed softly.

The sleeping star gave a grunt and rolled over, growing a little dimmer as if she could hide.

"Polaris, come on, let's not delay this, again," Twilight growled giving the star the equivalent of a nudge.

Just another few minutes, please, the Lodestar mumbled, and Twilight could swear it looked like the star was clamping her eyes shut. How exactly a star could do that, when they were balls of energy and light, stymied Twilight.

"Oh no, not tonight, missy. We've been tardy every night this week and I've gotten three protests from the Astronomers Guild, as well as the Astrologers Guild. Tonight we are doing this on time. Got it?"

Around a little hum of dozy delight, the star stretched, saying, Alright, mistress. Any particular orders for tonight?

This caused Twilight to hesitate. Polaris had asked the same question the first time Twilight had awoken the stars. Afterwards Luna had explained that the Lodestar was wondering if there were any changes Twilight wanted to make to the night sky. With everything that had been going on Twilight hadn't had time to even consider if she wanted to make any changes to the night.

"Uh, not tonight," Twilight said, and then feeling Polaris take on a disappointed tinge added, "But maybe soon."

Alright, the star said, a hint of unhappiness in her voice. Well, we should get the others up, I suppose.

Lights splashed and weaved across Equestria's skies as Twilight and Polaris reached out, waking the other stars. In a rolling wave the constellations appeared, the stars glimmering and stretching before beginning their vigil over the ponies and creatures below. Luna had started to receive letters complimenting and asking her about how different the stars' appearance had become.

Relieved to have been only a little late, Twilight began to float down to her body. She was stopped by a call from within the constellation Draco.

Mistress! Mistress! Arrakis cried, darting across the night as she shouted at the top of her non-existent lungs.

Luna and Twilight both turned to the approaching star, Arrakis slowing when she was only several dozen leagues away.

“Yes? Is there anything I can help you with?” Twilight asked, her uncertainty showing as a cascade of violet sparks along her ethereal form.

I… I just… Well… Arrakis stopped a short distance from the pair of disembodied alicorns, her light shifting to an embaressed pink.

Trying to smile, the action turning her a comforting blue, Twilight drifted towards Arrakis. “It’s okay. I wont bite or be angry.”

Snapping up a few lengths, Arrakis sputtered, Oh, I know that, mistress! It’s just… an odd request, that’s all.

“Oh really?”

Yes… Arrakis drifted a bit closer to Twilight, curling up against her ethereal form like a cat in making a den in a rumpled quilt. As you know, I am the Dancer, right?

Twilight nodded.

But, the thing is… I’ve never actually, well, done it. Danced, I mean. I’ve watched ponies and zebras and griffons and even dragons dance, but… I’ve never done it myself. Arrakis grew a melancholy grey as she talked, her words drifting into uncertainty and longing. Celestia was always so adamant that we keep things as they were, and before that Luna was so preoccupied with either the fallen stars or was so sad herself that nostar felt like doing much of anything, and before that we didn’t really think or question much. Bad things happened to stars that questioned the natural order in the old days, and Polaris was always so worried for us that I didn’t want to—

“Yes, of course you can dance,” Twilight gave a tittering laugh.

Arrakis didn’t seem to hear Twilight, the star lowering her voice in a gravely grumble.

’You have to be careful, Arrakis! Look at what happened to Tali. One careless slip and bam, your gathering speed to smash into the disc and casting your precious aether across the heavens.’

“I don’t think Polaris sounds like that…” Twilight did the equivalent of pressing her lips together.

“No, no, it’s a very good impression.” Luna giggled a few lengths away, her essence crackling with suppressed laughter.

With a squeak, Arrakis shot between Twilight and Luna, exclaiming, You said yes? I can dance? I can dance!

Releasing a delighted whoop, Arrakis spun higher into the heavens, before falling back down, leaving a trail of sparkling dust in her wake.

Thank you, thank you, thank you! Arrakis bumped into Twilight over and over, giving her a series of quick kisses. I… Have to plan what dance to do first! Maybe a Tango! Or a Waltz! I always wanted to waltz.

Arrakis hurried off, gathering a dozen of her sisters as she made her way back towards her constellation, a storm of gasps and happy cries trailing in their wake. Twilight and Luna watched them go, both feeling their distant hearts swelling in joy so far beneath them on the disc. When the stars had gone far enough that their voices were no more than a gentle babble of nonsense, the two alicorns continued on their way back to their bodies.

Beside her Luna wore a look of mixed humour and relief as they stretched. She gave Twilight a slight smile before saying, "Well, I think that has been the best start to a night yet. I can’t recall ever seeing a star so happy with something so simple. Though I see Sirius is still missing."

Suppressing a groan, Twilight followed the older alicorn’s gaze towards the constellation in question, Canis Major. Sure enough, the star was missing from her spot again.

Grinding her teeth, Twilight again began to lift up into the sky, but was stopped by a light tug. Turning she saw Luna had somehow managed to grab a hold of her. The connection tingled like mint and smelled of fresh rain. As quickly as Luna grabbed her, she let go. Feeling a little dazed and lost for a few moments, Twilight couldn't shake the sensation that something was missing, but she wasn't sure what.

"Don't worry about the Firestar right now.” Twilight could tell that Luna was herself concerned behind the false smile she wore.

"Princess, what was that? When you touched me it felt like a cool winter breeze, and I couldn't think after you let go."

"Ah, yes," Luna looked away and in the early evening light Twilight could almost swear the princess was blushing. "What you just felt, it's a far more... intimate connection than just regular touching. It’s a bit like when unicorns share their magic. Our essences were mingling and we were, uh, experiencing a bit of the underlying power of the other. By the way, your touch tastes like those frizzy pop rock candies." Luna, leaning down while her eyes hunted for any sign of her sister, added in a conspiratorial whisper, "Celestia is like jalapeños, and she smells like cinnamon."

Suppressing a laugh with her hoof, Twilight smiled, forgetting about Sirius' disappearance for a little while.

“So, this evenings lessons.” Luna clapped her hooves together twice, and lifted her head as if searching the night for a hint towards what the lessons would entail. Twilight couldn’t hide her own eagerness, her wings jittering, and a big grin plastered on her muzzle. Glancing to Twilight and continuing the act of the coming lecture being spur-of-the-moment, Luna gave a shallow laugh. “I have it! The types of Alicorns.”

“Types?” Twilight scrunched up her nose as if she’d smelled something bad. “We have ‘types’?”

“Certainly!” Luna bobbed her head a couple times. “Celestia and I are Physicals, for instance. You are as well… we think.”

“You think?” Twilight laughed and shook her mane, the stars within glimmering a little brighter.

It was Luna’s turn to scrunch her nose. “There have not been many of us. Until a few days ago Celestia and I only knew of there having been seven of our kind, including you. So, yes, we three are Physicals, and are tied to one of the celestial bodies.”

“Wait, ‘seven of our kind’?” Twilight tilted her head, her laughter fading away. “Whois—”

“That’s a discussion for later,” Luna gave Twilight a stern look, one she had perfected. “But, yes, physicals,” with a wave of her hoof Luna indicated herself and Twilight, then pointed to Cadence’s tower, “and Cadence is Emotional… literally, often.” The last few words were added in a grumbling undertone. “While we draw our magic from our associated body, or bodies in your case, she’s bound to the ever-shifting tides of love. I, sadly, don’t know much more. Truthfully, I’m not certain even she fully understands her nature.”

“And the third type?” Twilight’s curiosity was fully engaged, the young mare scooting a few inches closer to Luna and leaning towards her friend, ears waiting to catch every word.

“We call them—her Intangible.” Deciding not to press Luna’s slip, Twilight tried to be patient while Luna recovered her train of thought. “She represents, or is bound, to the concept of Fate.”

“You’re speaking of your mother, the Namegiver,” Twilight reasoned, rubbing her chin.

Luna ruffled her wings as she looked to the horizon and Selene gently climbing along her usual spring path. After a few moments of silence, she gave a deep sigh. “I did not think this lesson through enough, it seems. I’m sorry, Twilight.” Slowly, Luna stood, gesturing with a wing for Twilight to do the same. “We’ll have to revisit this topic another time. For now, you need to start getting ready for the morning." Luna gave Twilight a gentle smile as she stretched.

Twilight wanted to press the subject. A hundred different questions buzzed like bees in her head, each yearning to be aired. But, Twilight had come to recognise over the past few days when Luna would and would not indulge in her curiosity. This was one of the times when attempting to pry information out of Luna would have yielded nothing more than stern glares and a frosty, ‘Good eve’.

Together the two Alicorns of the Night walked down into the palace proper and the hustle and bustle that filled the center of Equestria's government at all times of the day. After a few moments they parted, Luna heading towards Night Court while Twilight turned in the direction of the various royal apartments. The busy activity was a stark contrast to when Twilight had lived in the palace as Celestia's student. Where once the palace had been quiet and serene during the night, now pages and stewards moved about carrying out the work of supporting Luna's half of the diarchy. All around her servants were putting the final touches on the preparations for the next day’s event.

Questions hounded her as Twilight weaved her way through the palace. She had little idea what was going to be expected of her in the future, only that in a few hours she'd be presented as a living goddess. Would she have to hold court? Would she have to live in the palace? Would she have her own personal guards? At least she didn’t think she’d have to live in the temple with the Sisterhood… would she?

On and on the questions went, most left unspoken as she went from lessons on controlling her alicorn powers to learning to fly under Dash's guidance. Then there were the questions from the press. Twilight was silently thankful that they were kept off the palace grounds. Between it all, she barely had a few minutes in the day to just sit down and relax.

And the nobles! Twilight was no novice at dealing with the nobility, it came part and parcel growing up as the heir to one of the oldest—if not prominent—Houses. For the most part, Twilight had managed to avoid dealing too much with the other Houses, that had always been more her mother's forte. Since moving to Ponyville she'd almost dropped out of their sights completely. Even her entitlement as Countess Everfree it hadn't caused much of a stir. A countess of a monster filled forest with no pony living on her land was only marginally more important than a commoner. There was no wealth and little prestige attached to the title, and she didn’t even hold a seat in the House of Ladies.

Winding her way through the busy corridors, Twilight gave a little grunt of annoyance. She was supposed to be heading towards her old quarters where her friends would be waiting for her. Instead her hooves carried her towards another portion of the palace.

It wasn't that Twilight wanted to avoid her friends. Sure, Rarity's fawning had started to become a little irksome, and Pinkie's jubilation could wear down the most resilient. Applejack and Fluttershy had taken the change stoically, and while both were genuinely happy for Twilight, neither could fully hide their concerns or fears that this meant the end of their little group. For better or worse, nothing was ever going to be the same.

Maybe she could use some of those transformation spells Luna had told her about and return to living in Ponyville. The idea always left her chest feeling a little lighter and the constant knot of tension in Twilight's stomach would dissipate for a moment. The feeling only lasted until she realised that it just wasn't possible.

Anything is possible, mistress, chuckled a sharp voice.

Twilight stopped in the middle of the corridor almost causing a porter to crash into her.

"Sirius," Twilight snapped, drawing a few curious looks from the servants. "Where have you been?"

I’ve been… busy.

Twilight narrowed her eyes at the way the star hedged her words and searched for some sign of Sirius. She could sense the star was close, within the palace itself, but the precise location eluded her. Her gaze settled on a suit of armour, and as she was about to move on, a little glimmer of light behind the helmet’s visor betrayed the star.

Sidestepping towards the armour while making it look like she was avoiding a maid, Twilight said, “Oh, busy. Doing ‘star-stuff’, I bet. Sparkling, being observed, perhaps acting as a portent again.”

Reaching the armour, Twilight jumped forward, wrenching the helmet from the frame. “Gotcha!” Twilight smirked, but her lips quickly fell into a frown.

Sirius wasn’t in the armour.

Checking the inside of the helmet, Twilight found Sirius wasn’t in it either.

I’m harder than that to catch, mistress. Sirius’ laughter echoed from somewhere near the ceiling, among the chandeliers.

“Come down here!” Twilight slammed the helmet back onto the stand, leaving small dents where her magic pressed too hard.

Sirius was silent. When she spoke again, her voice came from behind a tapestry.

If you must know, I was helping somepony, Sirius said as she floated out from behind the tapestry, bouncing into the middle of the corridor.

Twilight took a step towards Sirius, only to stop as the star zipped back several paces, halting between a startled page’s ears.

"Come back here,” Twilight growled, narrowing her eyes at the defiant star. “You need to go back to the heavens, where you belong.”

No. Sirius narrowed her light, becoming a threatening red beacon.

“Uh, Lady Sparkle, what’s going on?” The page glanced between Twilight and the star hovering just above his head.

“Nothing. Just stay put. I don’t think she’ll hurt you,” Twilight waved a calming hoof, not taking her gaze from Sirius.

Of course I won’t harm this pony.

Twilight could feel the star roll her eyes, an action that made her wobble into the pony’s ear. Yelping, he ducked down his head before scampering off, a thin stream of smoke trailing from scorched hairs.

That was an accident… Sirius said, her light shifting to an embarrassed pink.

"Okay, so what can you tell me about him or her?" Twilight sat down, attempting to appear unthreatening.

Who?

“The pony you were helping!”

Nothing.

"What?" Twilight's voice cracked off the stone walls making any pony unfortunate to be close wince and shrink away. Her left eye twitching, Twilight growled through clenched teeth, "What do you mean you can tell me nothing? Stop being so obstinate."

The star laughed. From the rolling timbre, Twilight could just imagine the star doing the equivalent of grabbing her belly while throwing back her head. If stars had bellies or heads. Sirius became a gentle blue, slowly rising a few lengths higher.

I'm simply mimicking my mistress. But, if you really must know, she was one of the shades.

“You were doing what?” Twilight’s mouth fell open, a series of questions and worries fighting to be aired. “They are dangerous! Why would you help them?”

Sirius dropped down to hover almost in front of Twilight’s nose. This one isn’t. She’s different. Besides, do you really think so little of me that I would help anything that would threaten you?

"I… I don’t know," Twilight muttered. “I’ve only been the Stars for five nights.”

A small crowd had begun to gather in the corridor. While some ponies tried to slip past, giving Twilight a wide berth and sticking to the far wall, most were forming into a clump a short distance from Twilight and Sirius.

Mistress, I love you with all of my being, I am incapable of doing otherwise. But that doesn't mean I like or respect you, yet. I'm not like Polaris or the others, I won't just dance to your tune because you say so. You need to earn my respect. But, I won't let anything happen to you or risk you being in danger. If it makes you feel better, this shade is a long, long distance away, and not interested in you.

Sirius vanished before Twilight could respond, folding into her own light with the distinct snap of teleportation. Twilight hoped the star had returned to her place in the night, but knew that if she checked, Sirius would still be missing. Giving a little grumble, she continued on her own way. The servants dispersed, odd looks following Twilight as they scurried away, but Twilight was too pre-occupied thinking over the encounter with Sirius.

The star didn't think the shade she had been watching was a threat. That was good. She also didn't respect Twilight, which explained a lot. Unsure how to deal with Sirius, Twilight continued through the corridors until she came to a smallish door set in the west wing. Beyond the door was one of the palace's most secure sanctuaries.

Twilight knocked politely on the white oak door, for old time's sake. Celestia over the years had tried to make it clear that Twilight was welcome in her office any time, but Twilight didn't want this little ritual to change. There had been far too many changes in too short a time for her liking, and this one thing would stay the same, always.

Slipping into the room, Twilight saw her mentor sitting behind her wide desk. The office was a thing of pure utility and little frills. Few ponies ever got to see the inside of the room, and it had been kept almost bare as a result. There were a couple bookcases against one wall, a curio cabinet containing various knick-knacks, a long, low table with a tea service on a gold tray, and a few cushions for Celestia to sit on while reading reports in front of her hearth. Atop the mantle sat an old cuckoo clock, the ticking of gears mixing with the gentle crackling of the fire. On the opposite wall sat three tall windows trimmed with scarlet curtains to let in the light of the afternoon and sunset.

The office had always felt comfortable and safe to Twilight, like this was the true nature of Celestia, and the other rooms that were covered in gold leaf and tapestries were just a show put on for the benefit of others.

Looking up from a stack of reports, Celestia gave Twilight a weary smile.

"Still no luck, Princess?" Twilight asked as she settled onto a soft cushion of duck feathers.

"Nothing. Not the alicorns, not the shades. Just… silence," Celestia sighed as she rolled up the parchment in front of her and moved it into a tray labeled 'Furnaces'. Plucking up the next report in the mountainous stack on her desk, she asked, "What about you? How has your night been so far? I sensed a star was nearby, but she seems to have moved off again."

“It was Sirius. She was here, in the palace.” Twilight bounced a hoof in imitation of the stars dancing movements. “Just bobbing along and sparkling.”

“I am amazed that such a thing is possible. Stars fall, but they… change, when they do so. I’ve never heard of a star on the disc that didn’t become a Valla.”

Twilight tilted her head at the vaguely familiar word. It was an old one, ancient even, but the exact nature and source eluded her. The Valla were involved, somehow, with Star Swirl the Bearded and the Great Migration, but details hung like mist just out of her reach.

Well aware of the meaning behind Twilight’s pinched brow and the way her muzzle crinkled, Celestia said, “The Valla were warrior-stars that, in times of trouble, chose to leave the heavens to help mortals.”

“Oh… They can do that?” Twilight blinked back a rush of surprise. “Not fall, I knew they could do that, but chose to fall…” Her voice trailed off as her brow knit in concentration that morphed from curiosity to concern when she said, “If they didn’t chose, then ponies can steal my stars?”

Twilight’s jaw tightened at the mere idea of a star being stolen from her. Ears flicking back and eyes pinching together, Twilight’s heart began to race, her breaths taken in quick, sharp snorts. A few thin wisps of smoke trailed from the tips of her mane and tail.

“Twilight, you need to calm down,” Celestia chided, her soft glance calming Twilight greater than an hour of breathing exercises. Before Twilight could start apologizing, Celestia continued, “Some stars choose, yes. Others have been stolen, or worse. Luna knows more than I. She had a star stolen during Discord’s reign and spent a while trying to find her.”

“Did she?”

“To my knowledge; no. But we weren’t talking at the time. That wasn’t long before…” Celestia trailed off, old wounds pressing down on her ears. Twilight’s own ears fell, echoing Celestia’s pained expression. “That’s all past, though.” Celestia moved beyond the memories with a deep breath. “What did Sirius say?”

"She's been watching a shade." Twilight snarled, unable to hide her anger towards the star, and herself for bringing up old wounds, even inadvertently.

Celestia put the report aside, a deep frown playing at the corner of her lips. “A shade? How could she be so foolish? No, this is Sirius, and she’s not stupid. Stubborn, inflexible, arrogant; yes. But loyal to a fault when that loyalty is earned. Something I never managed. She was always causing problems. Nothing of this magnitude, however. What could she be thinking?”

“The best way she can be a jerk?” Twilight’s wings extended a little, her teeth grinding together. “One moment she’s aggressive and evasive, the next she’s claiming she has no choice but to love me. I don’t get it.”

Celestia sighed, moving from behind her desk to sit beside Twilight. Twilight looked up, a little of her annoyance fading as Celestia extended a wing over her. It reminded her so much of when she had first arrived in the palace as Celestia’s protege, and they’d sit together with Twilight reading books on magical theory.

“What she said, about having to love you, is true, in a way.” Celestia gazed out the window, watching a trio of flickering stars as a tiny smile played at her muzzle. “Sol is my Love. I can’t imagine life without her presence. But, it’s not an obsessive love, either. I don’t need to be with her at all times, or anything of that nature. Nor is it the love that is shared between mother and daughter, or between spouses. The love I share with Sol, that Luna has for Selene, and I know you have for your stars is its own, unique and special kind of love. Cadence has confirmed as much. From that goofy grin you have, I see you agree.”

Twilight lifted a hoof to her muzzle, discovering that she did have a lopsided smile plastered on her face. It was true, despite having only been an alicorn for five nights, Twilight couldn’t imagine her life without the stars.

“Maybe,” Twilight said, her smile widening. “Their constant little hum of conversation at the back of my mind. The way they always shine a little brighter when I pay them attention. Or any of the ever growing list of little quirks they possess. Arrakis has the cutest little squeak when she first wakes up… It’s all rather endearing.”

Her cheeks almost hurting from grinning so wide, Twilight’s thoughts drifted towards the stars shining through the window.

“I really need to properly introduce you to Sol.” Celestia chuckled, returning to her seat and the report she’d previously discarded. “Maybe we can put an end to the animosity between the sun and the stars. Perhaps when you’ve settled a bit more into your role. In the mean-time, what else did Sirius say or indicate about this shade?”

"Not much. About all I got out of her was the shade is far away and that Sirius doesn't consider her a threat to me."

"Well," Celestia said hiding her disappointment with centuries of practice. "That is more than we knew before, at least. It doesn't help us locate the shade, but even the slightest information is welcome." Then, with a practiced tongue, Celestia redirected the conversation. "What about your studies? Still having difficulties with flying?"

"Um, a little."

Celestia gave Twilight a deadpan stare.

"Okay, a lot." Twilight flopped down further into the cushion, her wings stretching out. As they did, small aches and pains in the new flight muscles twinged. "Rainbow keeps saying that all it takes is practice. But the only practice I seem to be getting is falling and crashing. I think we just aren’t suited as student and teacher. She’s arguably the fastest flier alive, but that doesn’t help me with these.”

Twilight extended her large, majestic wings, primary feathers reaching towards opposite walls. Ruffling her feathers, the flickering light from the fire playing across the accented tips in dancing splashes of dark blue and purple.

"Dash has the long slender wings and slight build of the Peregrine sub-race of Pegasi. Like all Peregrines, this gives her exceptional speed, especially while in a dive, and better than average agility. However, a well trained athletic Raven Pegasus can often keep up in a horizontal, or more commonly called, 'flat' race, and are far more agile. Speed, particularly their diving speed, is often a central aspect to Peregrine Pegasi that are part of one of the Legions. The most famous Peregrine Legion is the Wonderbolts, who still serve the Crown as both stunt fliers at shows and as an elite reactionary force if Equestria is threatened. I have Imperial Pegasus wings. They are much larger than a Peregrine’s and more suited to catching rising thermals and soaring. The slotted tips reduce the induced drag and wind vortexes, allowing me to glide for far greater distances and catch thermal updrafts with ease.”

Twilight’s words began to tumble one over the next in a breathless rush the more she spoke until she stopped, readying herself for the next part of her explanation.

Into the gap, Celestia asked, “Have you thought about asking Fluttershy, perhaps? She comes from an Imperial Legion, as I recall.”

“F-Fluttershy?” Twilight’s mouth went dry at the thought of asking Fluttershy to teach her to fly. “N-no, I hadn’t. I… I think it would be better if you taught me how to fly. Or maybe Cadence, if you’re too busy.” Twilight gulped as Celestia lowered the report, sliding it into the pile destined for the furnaces. “I’d ask Luna, but she’s already teaching me how to connect with my stars, and I thought it’d be a bit too much to ask her to teach me how to fly as well.”

“I’d love to teach you, Twilight, but finding the time would be difficult.” Celestia took up the next report in the stack. “As for Cadence, don’t you think her hooves are full enough with Tyr?”

“I guess…” Twilight’s wings drifted back to her side with a sullen droop.

The room grew quiet for several minutes, the only sound the occasional rustle of Celestia picking up a new scroll, and the ticking of the clock on the mantle above the fireplace.

As Celestia set aside one scroll and reached for other, Twilight let out a defeated sigh. “I don't know, I'm starting to think that maybe I just can't fly."

Glancing up, a worried frown touching the corner of her mouth, Celestia turned her full attention to Twilight, putting back down the scroll before she’d even broken its seal.

"You’re not really worried you can’t fly.” Celestia put on a comforting smile. “Why don't you tell me the real reason why you're hiding in my study and not getting your mane primped and washed for the presentation."

For a moment Twilight paled, then she let out a long sigh, tension flowing out of her body.

"I don't know, it just seems, urgh, everything is happening too fast. One day I'm your student and a simple country librarian. Next day, I'm a Goddess. Sure, I've had a few adventures over the years, and yes, I am a Countess, but this, this is pretty steep on the learning curve. Now I have thousands of voices that all treat me like a long lost friend. I'm taking a crash course, often literally, in alicorn magic and history. And to top it all off, every pony is tip-hoofing around me like they are walking through a dragon’s horde."

"But none of that is what is truly bothering you, is it?"

Twilight almost regretted going to see Celestia in that moment. Her mentor was too wise and knew Twilight too well to miss the truth.

"It... It's my friends," Twilight finally admitted, as much to herself as to Celestia. "They are all so happy for me, even Applejack and Fluttershy who are worried about how this will change things. Rarity is skipping and singing so much it'd be easy to confuse her for Pinkie. But all I can think about when I am around them is how all too soon all there will be left of them is a stone marker in a cemetery."

Celestia sighed, stepping around her desk so she could drape a wing over Twilight’s withers and pull her into a gentle hug.

"Twilight, I know I don't have to tell you this, you've already had these conversations with Spike when he'd get sad and depressed about how he'd outlive every pony, but I'll tell you what my mother told me. None of the mortal races know how long their time will be on this world. All too often they are claimed young by events outside their control; war, disease, or simple accidents are always waiting. The best we can do is cherish the time we have with them and then remember them when they pass.

"So, don't hide from them because you are afraid of tomorrow. Laugh, love, live and enjoy today. It will hurt, I won't lie. Oh, how it hurts sometimes, but they wouldn't want you to squander eternity in misery or mourning their passing. Especially while they are still around. The pain will fade and in time you'll make new friends. Just as I have done. Through it all, you'll always have Luna, Cadence and I, and probably Tyr too, now."

Twilight nodded, slowly, a tightness clutching at her heart. No tears came however, not yet at least.

"Thanks Princess," Twilight said, giving her mentor a weak but genuine smile as she started to stand. "I needed that reminder."

"I will always be here for you, Twilight, always," Celestia replied, nuzzling Twilight gently. "Now, you better start getting ready for tomorrow. It's going to be a big day."

“The stars are acting funny again, Orenda. They should not be moving like that. Oh, no, no, no, they should not. Shooting and racing on occasion; yes. Rotate a bit each night: for certain. But this dancing and weaving? Whatever is happening up there? Bad omens… Bad omens...”

Gilda’s sleep encrusted eyes slid open as the thick rolling voice tumbled through her ears. Groaning at the pain lancing through her side, she tried to turn over on the small bed but found herself strapped down. All drowsiness vanished as she spotted the rope lashed around her body, binding her to the bed. For a few moments she struggled against her binds, stretching and gasping in futility. Taking short ragged breaths, Gilda looked around for something she could use to free herself.

She saw nothing but pots and potions of every colour filling the shelves that lined the walls. In the center of the room bubbled a cauldron over a large fire. Carved masks glared down on the griffon from their perches on the walls.

“Where the buck am I?” Gilda snarled as she pulled and tugged.

“Bah, silly fox, of course stars shouldn’t dance.” The voice gave a dismissive snort. “Not proper. Not natural.”

Gilda stopped struggling as the rhythmic tap of wood and hooves signaled the voice’s approach. Bound and helpless, Gilda snapped her eyes half-shut so she could peer at the beads hanging in the doorframe and see who had captured her without him knowing she was awake.

“Zubu know you are awake, cat-bird,” the voice said as the beads were swept aside by a staff to let a crippled zebra into the hut. “He raised seven daughters and taught five apprentices. Knows when someone fakes sleep, Zubu does. You are not very skilled at it, either.”

Snorting, Gilda tried to sit up, the bed clattering as the ropes grew taught.

“Who are you? Where the buck am I?” Gilda snarled the questions, straining and thrashing a few times.

“Before you stands the Mighty and Mostly Magnificent Zubu, at your service,” Zubu gave an awkward bow, before leaning his staff next to the door and hopping towards Gilda. “And you are in his home in the Great Ape Jungle. Well, just inside, actually. On the edge, more or less.”

Gilda froze, her blood turning to ice. She and Blinka had heard legends and stories about the jungle and the large white apes that lived beneath its shade. Terrible beasts that hunted anything that intruded on their home and could move through the treetops like ghosts. Griffons that flew too low were said to be grabbed by vines and pulled down to waiting claws and fangs. Even the most hardened and strongest griffons of the aerie had trembled when giving the warnings to the un-exiled griffons.

“Don’t you worry none. Those savage brutes live much further into the jungle.” Zubu chuckled as he approached, using his good hoof to lift a compress from the side of Gilda’s chest.

She craned her head to look and saw a patch of shaved fur and plucked feathers right where her coat merged with her crest. A wave of embarrassment flashed through her as he tutted and slathered on a thick pungent smelling ointment.

“Besides, Zubu has bargain with them. He stick to his territory. They keep to theirs. Good bargain. Fair bargain. They very honourable… for beasts.” Zubu gave an untroubled chuckle as he began applying a fresh bandage. “You are healing well. Had him worried for a while as you slipped in and out of the deep sleep. Thought you’d be joining your ancestors more than once. But Zubu knows his arts well, yes he do. Used last of the Mungus Root, so there will be little that can be done for the aches and pains you will surely feel. How do you feel?”

Gilda blinked dumbly at the question. She felt... sore. Her wings, legs, back, even her beak was sore. Taking a hiss of breath, she looked away from the zebra, not willing to admit how terrible she felt. He just chuckled some more as he began to undo the ropes binding her.

“Apologies for the ropes, but you would thrash about terribly when you had nightmares during the fever and infection. Orenda suggested the bindings.”

“Orenda?”

“Orenda!” Zubu gestured to the flames kissing the cauldron, a wide manic grin on his wrinkled face. “She’s rather shy. Doesn’t like strange cat-birds… Ha-ha!”

“Uh huh,” Gilda muttered as the last rope was loosened. Rolling off the bed, Gilda had to fight off a wave of exhaustion and nausea that assaulted her, making the hut spin. “Listen, thanks, I guess, for helping me, but I need to find my cousin and Talona.”

“The foal-goddess? Daughter of Wisdom and Slaughter? Such an odd combination. Wisdom and Slaughter? Never heard of them before. But Zubu hardly keep track of the Goddesses… She is in the aerie.” Zubu tossed the rope into a corner, next to a pile of mushrooms and old rags. “As for your cousin, she was young griffon? Broken wing, yes?”

Gilda nodded slowly, mostly because her head spun and her stomach clenched with the slightest movement.

“She is dead.”

The words were said with simple finality. No preamble, nothing to soften their blow, just the hard truth. Gilda’s beak fell open and she slumped on the cot.

“Dead? So... they killed her? Because of a broken wing?”

“That is the way of the cat-birds. To ‘Return to the Disc’ those that cannot contribute. In doing so they feed the grass, as the grass feeds the gazelle, and the gazelle feeds the cat-bird. A soldier who cannot fly, what good is she?”

“She could have been helped! Or had done something not flying related if it was impossible to fix her wing!” Gilda stood in a rush of anger, and almost as quickly toppled over, her head barely missing the cauldron and fire.

“You are both exiles-in-return, yes?”

Gilda nodded as she was helped back onto the cot.

“Then you are not craft-birds or nobility. Soldiers are all you are seen as having a use for, nothing more. Not as scholar, baker, or butcher. Not even as manual laborer. But to fight for the aerie and hunt for the aerie and die for the aerie. That is cat-bird way.” Zubu clicked his tongue and made a tut-tut. “It is a waste.”

Moving around to the other side of the hut, Zubu began to root and shift through shelves. As he did Gilda sat staring off into space. She couldn’t believe that Blinka was gone, left to rot beneath a tree. Since losing Rainbow Dash’s friendship, Blinka had been the only other soul Gilda really knew or interacted with. There were only three griffon families in all of Equestria, and none of the other exiles had liked Gilda any more than the ponies of Ponyville.

It had been Blinka who consoled Gilda when she’d flown back to the roost. It had been Blinka that had pulled Gilda out of the funk and depression that losing Rainbow Dash had caused. It had even been Blinka who suggested they travel a bit, visit the other exile colonies. It had been Gilda, though, who wanted to go to the aeries when they heard word of their exile being renounced if they joined the army.

Now, the one remaining friend she had on the disc was gone, stolen from her by the general of Southstone when all she and her cousin had wanted was to find a new home. A low growl rumbled in Gilda’s chest as she looked at her talons.

They had taken Blinka from her, left her for dead, and they had the alicorn foal. She had nothing, was nothing. She could hardly stand on her own four legs.

“That is a very bad look, mmm, yes it is,” Zubu said from where he’d been watching. “You’re thinking of doing something very stupid, Mm Hm.”

“They took Blinka from me,” Gilda whispered, tensing her talons. “I’m just going to repay them.”

“Revenge, it is not the way.” Zubu shook his head.

“Yeah, well I’m not some lame old cripple,” Gilda snarled. “Ponies, Zebras, you’re all the same. Run away rather than face your problems head on.”

Zubu’s face grew dark and stormy, his good eye turning into a dangerous black pearl. In a flash he crossed the hut, his face so close to Gilda’s she couldn’t avoid the stench of tobacco and rotten teeth on his breath. His mangled leg shot up, jabbing a short stick underneath Gilda’s beak.

“Zubu will forgive that comment because you are ignorant, little cat-bird.”

Sneering at the supposed threat, Gilda made to brush the stick aside. Quick as a cobra, Zubu grabbed her wrist and twisted it back, pain flaring through the limb.

“Ow, hey!” the Gilda yelped as she found herself unable to move.

“Youngsters, so headstrong and arrogant, especially you cat-birds. Quick to lash out and think Ioka owes you something. Never stopping to think or wonder if tragedy could have been avoided. If a father needed to bury his children.” Zubu released her, huffing as he turned away, his tail slapping her across the face.

Sitting in stunned silence, Gilda massaged her tender wrist.

“You need to rest. There will be no taking vengeance tonight or for the next many nights. Rest now. There’ll be time enough for talk in the morning.” Zubu grabbed his staff from beside the door and stepped out into the jungle.

Left alone, Gilda rested her head back on the lumpy pillow, nursing the pain in her body and heart. Tears soaked her pillow long before she fell back to sleep, only one thought in her mind; finding the general and making her suffer the same pain Gilda felt.

Everything was ready.

The throne room had been decorated in plum coloured tapestries while lavender, lilies, roses, and carnations sat in bouquets next to the rows of seats, under the windows, or had their petals spread along the lush carpet leading to the dais that normally held the Solar and Lunar thrones. In the thrones’ place rested a pedestal with a replica of the Element of Magic on top.

Ponies from across Equestria had gathered, filling the courtyards and squares of Canterlot. Most tried to get as close to the castle as they could, watching the stained glass windows of the palace's north facing side with rapt attention. News of the coronation had reached as far away as Vanhoover in the northwest and the Crystal City to the northeast. For days a steady stream of dignitaries and officials had been arriving. Unlike the commoners, they would be seated in the throne room.

The nobility began to arrive hours before the start of the ceremony, the heralds calling out the dignitaries names and their titles. They strode forward with their heads held high and in their finest clothes to take their seats. A few looked with envious eyes at the front rows of seats, those reserved for Twilight's family and friends.

Safely ensconced away from the nobles, Twilight sat in the middle of a chattering cloud of mane products, make-up, and giddy voices. The room was full, almost packed so tight that it was hard to move. Along with Rarity and Velvet, Twilight was joined by her herd-mothers; Whisper and Glitterdust, and all of her sisters; Limelight, Pennant, Star, Elegant, and Melody. It had been years since Twilight had really seen her family, the last time being Shining’s wedding.

That was not a fondly remembered reunion, and not just because of the Changeling invasion.

Of all Twilight’s parents, Whisper Runes had been the greatest influence on Twilight, overshadowing Glitterdust, and even Velvet to a large extent. It was Whisper that Twilight was the most alike, the two sharing the same joys of scholarly activities with little regard for the world beyond their musty old books. Whisper was forever working on a magnum-opus meant to begin perhaps a fourth Reformation. Soft spoken, but with a sharp tongue, Whisper only left the House manor to spend time with one of her wives, usually Glitterdust.

On the other end of the spectrum was Glitterdust, an outgoing youngish mare, bursting with life, energy, and an easy playful heart that reminded Twilight so much of Pinkie. She had married into the herd shortly after Twilight’s arrival. Closer to Shining than Twilight, Glitterdust brought a flair and joy into the herd that had been lacking with Comet’s stoic indifference, Whisper’s bookishness, and Velvet’s preoccupation with the House’s affairs.

Whisper’s daughters, Limelight and Pennant, couldn’t be more different from Twilight in their own, unique ways. Three and four years Twilight’s junior, they had been as much a constant in Twilight’s formative years as Shining and their brother, Two-Step. Limelight, appropriately enough, had taken after Glitterdust, while Pennant, ever envious of Twilight, had sought to prove herself by joining the navy. Twilight had lost touch with both, as she had most of her family, when she’d entered Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. From the way Pennant’s mouth pinched, she’d lost none of her resentment. Limelight, in contrast, shone with joy as she sat sipping a glass of wine beside Rarity.

Star, the eldest of Glitterdust’s foals, had just turned fifteen. She was following in Twilight’s hoofsteps, having entered Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns the previous year. Though, it probably had more to do with Velvet than herself, Twilight admitted. Unlike her sisters, Elegant and Melody, Star hated being a Lesser Daughter of House Sparkle. Not that she hated the House, nothing could have been further from reality. Star desired nothing more than being named House Matron, a title that was forever out of her reach, and now out of Twilight’s as well.

Chatting about fashion, art, and music with Rarity, the twins, Elegant and Melody, were still foals. Elegant had found her mark in dance the previous autumn, and all she could talk about was how she was going to perform on Manehatten’s broadway. Melody still hadn’t found her destiny, though everypony in the family knew that she was a prodigy with the violin and her mark would inevitably involve music in some capacity.

This left only Twilight’s father and brothers as missing from the room. They were already seated, or, in Shining’s case, performing their own tasks to prepare for the presentation. Other than Shining, Twilight had two brothers; Two-Step, a philosophy student, and the foal of the family, Adamant.

As a stage designer in Manehatten, Glitterdust bonded with Rarity almost at once, the pair attacking Twilight’s mane and makeup with an unreserved fervor. Whisper sat back in a corner, watching over her horn-rimmed glasses while Velvet chatted amicably at Twilight’s side.

Twilight couldn’t recall exactly what her mother had been talking about, only that her voice was creating a pleasant and warm blanket within the room. Still, it could do little more than smooth the outer edges of the anxiety prowling through Twilight.

"You sure you're okay, darling?" Rarity asked for the tenth time. She'd been growing increasingly concerned by the twitch in the corner of Twilight's eye and how the alicorn constantly glanced towards the windows as if searching for an easy escape route.

"Y-yeah, I'm good," Twilight muttered between breaths. She'd been going through her breathing exercises for the last half hour as the moment to step into the throne room and be judged by all those waiting ponies approached. Her eye twitched again as the thought passed through her head.

“Of course the oh-so-perfect Twilight is ‘good’,” Pennant snorted, fussing over her uniform for the seventh time.

“Knock it off, Pen,” Limelight snarled, her hoof lashing out to playfully hit her sister over the back of the head, and in the process making a mess of Pennant’s mane.

While Pennant and Limelight began to squabble, the others shared concerned looks that told Twilight none were convinced, but didn't prod her further. It took Rarity only three point four seconds before her eyes were shimmering with delight as an excited giggle made her mane bounce.

“Almost there, Twilight, just hold still a little longer.”

"This is so exciting," Melody cooed, folding her hooves beneath her chin and giving Twilight dreamy eyes. “To think, in a few minutes you'll be a crowned Princess of Equestria.”

“Actually, I wont be,” Twilight said, giving her sister as warm a smile as was possible with her rioting nerves. For what felt the hundredth time, Twilight explained how she wasn’t a Princess of Equestria. At least, as far as anypony knew.

“But, you could be,” Elegant pressed, leaning onto the counter.

“Elegant, mind your manners. We don’t lay on counters,” Glitterdust softly chided, not looking up from her work on Twilight’s mane.

Like Rarity, Glitterdust wore a pronounced smile as she chatted and fussed over Twilight.

"I’ve wondered about this day since you showed up in that little basket,” Whisper commented, adjusting her glasses before giving a nervous laugh. “Vel’s always been so overprotective of you, as well. You should have seen the look on her face when we received news of Nightmare Moons’ defeat, the return of Princess Luna, and your role in events. I thought she was going to have a heart attack.”

“Or march on Canterlot and demand how Celestia could send Twily to battle an ancient, evil goddess,” snickered Glitterdust.

“I made a binding promise,” Velvet said with a roll of her eyes, “one I intended to keep.”

“Only because you’ve been enchanted,” Whisper snorted derisively.

There was no response to the comment, Velvet clamping her mouth shut while Twilight just stared straight ahead into the mirror. Focusing on her reflection kept her mind away from over-analyzing her mother’s geas.

Her make-up was both plain and stylish, a prime example of less being more, making her eyes seem brighter. The way her mane curled around her head and neck almost made her features seem longer. Squinting a little, Twilight realized that they were longer. Luna and Celestia had both said Twilight would grow a bit and change to fit her new role, but she hadn't thought it would happen so fast. Turning her head to examine the sharp angular lines of her face, lines that echoed the other alicorns, Twilight admitted she looked beautiful.

"Shining was always so curious where you came from those first few years. And don’t get me started on the rest of the House,” Velvet said in a voice of mock scandal. “I thought for sure somepony would figure out that you were adopted, or fostered, or whatever you want to call it. And when Celestia showed up on our doorstep with the royal guard in tow, well, I almost fainted on the spot."

“No, you didn’t.” Whisper smirked behind her glasses. “You almost attacked her with the fire-poker when she picked Twilight up and cradled her.”

“Wish I could have seen that,” Glitterdust hummed while pinning Twilight’s mane behind an ear.

Elegant and Melody giggled, the latter making her voice deeper as she said, “You will not harm my precious, Sun Nag!”

“Melody! Language!” Velvet and Glitterdust said at the same time, the combined weight of their parental authority making the twins wilt.

"That must have been terrible, having such a secret and not being able to share it," Rarity's voice held a bit of scandalized sympathy. "I don't know if I could have managed it."

"It wasn't so bad, actually. Because..."

"Because of the geas," Twilight finished when her mother's voice drifted off. "I'm going to find a way to remove it, mother."

"Oh, no need to worry. I've grown used to the... it." Velvet shook her head before reaching into a drawer with her magic and pulling out a small box. “Besides, if you haven’t noticed, it seems to be weakening now you’ve Awakened.”

“What’s that?” Melody and Elegant asked together, leaning towards Velvet to get a better look.

“This,” Velvet began as she opened the box, “was in the basket with your sister. It belongs to you, Twilight.”

Within the box sat a simple platinum chain and locket. There was little to catch the eye, only a few swirling motifs around a strange symbol Twilight didn’t recognise. What the eye could not see but Twilight could feel were the spells and enchantments weaved deep into the metal. Twilight discerned three different protective wards along with a few she couldn’t recognise.

“She’s going to come?” Twilight asked, her voice almost flat, if not for a hint of hope as she stared at the locket. “My birth mother, I mean.”

Slipping the locket over Twilight’s head, Velvet said, “Your mothers are all going to be here, Twilight. All of the ponies who care about you will. Of that you can be certain.”

Twilight was uncertain if she really wanted to wear the necklace, but relented, realising it could be the entirety of her birth mother's presence. Adjusting the necklace, she took a deep breath, and said, “I guess I’m ready then.”

A few moments later a knock on the door and a voice calling through the wood announced that the last of the nobility and dignitaries had been seated. Taking a long breath, Twilight stood with absolute care not to damage the dress Rarity had crafted.

It was one of the most gorgeous gowns Twilight had ever seen. Tiny diamonds, one for every star in the night, had been sewn into the hems and down the train. The fabric itself was dyed a midnight blue much like her gala gown so that it almost seemed to be an extension of Twilight's mane. Shoes of matching platinum adorned her hooves. To finish the ensemble, her mane had been primped and styled so it fell in bouncing ringlets and curls about her face and down her left side, the magical stars that had appeared when she'd Awakened shining brighter than ever.

Together they walked to the throne room's entrance, and there Rarity and Twilight’s mothers gave her a quick nuzzle before slipping through the doors, leading her sisters to their seats.

Twilight was not alone, however, waiting in the hallway. Next to the door, a wide grin on her face, was the Lady Chamberlain, Mrs. Festive Dust, a sprightly, active pony that had been coordinating all the castle’s functions—official or otherwise—for the past decade. While Twilight couldn’t call Festive a friend, she’d never had any problems with the mare, and the two had gotten along fairly well the few times Twilight had been involved in the arrangements for a function as Celestia’s student.

Beside Festive, in her best robes, stood the Revered Speaker for Canterlot, and all the lands beneath the city’s gaze, Blessed Harmony. Like all priestesses, her coat was dyed a snowy white and her mane a rusty red in imitation of the Namegiver. Twilight had only met the Revered Speaker once, when she’d accidentally barged in on a meeting between the Speaker and Celestia. She was also, perhaps, the most important non-alicorn in all Equestria as the head of Notra-Dame de la Chanson. As the only city to have a resident alicorn year-long, Canterlot’s cathedral and priestesses wielded an enormous burden and power.

“Twilight,” Blessed said, making a deep bow before Twilight, right leg stretched forward, left bent beneath her barrel, and hind legs straight. “It is an honour to meet you again.”

“Revered Speaker,” Twilight replied, having to fight the urge to return the bow. “Thank you, for doing this.”

“This is as much Celestia’s doing as mine, child.” Blessed’s eyes sparkled with inner delight and mirth as she slowly rose out of her bow. “Though, I will admit I forced her hoof this time. I nor the Namegiver desires a repeat of what happened with Luna’s return.”

“Yeah… I’ve heard the stories of what happened in Canterlot.” Twilight gave a half-hearted chuckle.

Blessed shared the laughter, hers truer than Twilight’s, while Festive just shuddered.

“It was an interesting night. Cadence ready to face her mother in a confrontation between good and evil that would have been sung through the ages. The nobles running hither-tither like chickens with a fox in the coup. Celestia missing. Panic, confusion, and allegiances showing their true strengths and natures. And then, when things seemed darkest, you brought us back the light.” Blessed went to Twilight’s side, leading her slowly to the door, and then back to the far wall in a slow circle as she spoke. “We—the Sisterhood, that is—had been aware for some time of Luna’s imminent return, but were unsure how it would be resolved. Only that the stars would herald the return of one Goddess, and the impending arrival of another. After that night, I knew it had to be you. It explained so many of Celestia’s actions towards you, Twilight.”

“You’ve known all this time?”

“Suspected, inferred, and been as certain as we could possibly be; yes.” Blessed gave Twilight another amused laugh as Twilight scrunched her face in annoyance.

Huffing, she looked away from the Revered Speaker. “You could have told me, or sent me a letter, or something.”

“It is not our way to interfere in the affairs of the Namegiver, nor her herd. We are here to serve, both the Goddesses and those under your care. It is our way to gather all that you have to teach, and ensure that it is passed on to ponykind.” Blessed stopped pacing, moving to stand in front of Twilight. “It was Celestia’s prerogative to tell you the truth, and non-others.”

Twilight tilted her head at the declaration, a frown playing acros her painted lips. “What? Not my mothers’ role; birth or foster? What about Luna or Cadence? Cadence is—was, no is my sister-in-law, shouldn’t she have said something?”

Blessed merely shrugged. “I do not presume to know why the goddesses chose not to inform you sooner. If I were to guess, Your Highness, it is because they desire one outcome, but know in their hearts it will be another.”

The honourific didn’t escape Twilight’s notice, her ears pricking forward. “You know who my birth mother is.”

“The Namegiver has shown me as much, yes.”

“Who is she?” Twilight felt her mouth go dry at the question escaped her. “And, please, don’t say, ‘All will be revealed’. I don’t need the cryptic mysticism right now.”

Moving to the door to the throne room, hoof placed upon its ancient, white-oak, Blessed didn’t answer, only continued to smile. Then she moved into the throne room to a roar of applause and stamping hooves that ended when the Revered Speaker reached the dais and the Canterlot Royal Choir began to sing 'Sure on this Shining Night'.

“It’s time,” Festive said, taking her place before Twilight, and leading her through the doors and towards where Equestria's Princesses stood. On either side sat the nobility and dignitaries, a sea of peering and curious eyes. For most this was their first time seeing the young alicorn. Focusing straight ahead, and not tripping on her dress, Twilight studiously ignored the looks of awe or curiosity given by the crowd. As she passed, Twilight looked to her right taking reassurance in her friends and family.

All of whom were smiling.

The entirety of House Sparkle was present, from great uncle Pumice Sparkle to all of Twilight’s aunts, uncles and cousins, and her mother’s herd. Even with the branch members, they weren’t many in numbers, barely over a few dozen. House Sparkle was a small House, but a proud, happy, and inordinately powerful one with its connections to the crowns and House Invictus.

Once more the House’s heir, Lady Sateen Sparkle and her only foal, Tartan Sparkle, sat beside Twilight’s immediate family. Twilight knew very little of either, only that her aunt Sateen was a small, frail mare while her daughter was brooding and perpetually angry. When Twilight had spent time with her cousin, Tartan had picked on her fiercely. Not to the point of cruelty, but a constant, oppressive wave of envy and dislike. Tartan had been jealous of her, Twilight realised in later years, with mothers that were strong and didn’t dote or smother her. Today Tartan was all grins and laughter, holding her mother’s hoof in her own, and mouthing encouragement as Twilight passed the isle.

Behind the Sparkles were the Armours. House Armour and House Sparkle were long allies, stretching back hundreds of years. Twilight’s father was born to House Armour, though he didn’t care much for the name. ‘Namegiver, please give me daughters, so they’ll have much more sensible names,’ he’d often grumbled during Twilight’s younger years. In the Equestrian tradition, sons were named for their father’s original House. As he was named Comet, all Twilight brothers carried the Armour House-name, not just Shining.

Shining, as a member of House Invictus, was off to one side of the dais with Tyr. Chest puffed out, the medals and badges he’d earned during the Changeling invasion and his service before that polished until they glowed like brass and silver stars, he gave Twilight the widest grin of all, and a brotherly wink.

Tyr fidgeted with the frilly pink dress she’d been made to wear, a combination of confusion and sullen misery on her young face. For all the world could see she was simply an ordinary unicorn adopted by Shining and Cadence. Underneath the false exterior, Twilight could still sense the truth of Tyr’s nature, a thrumming nexus of caged aether that tickled along the tips of Twilight’s feathers and mane. It gave Twilight an inkling of how Celestia and Cadence had been so certain about her own future and past.

An honour guard formed ranks between the nobles and the dais, their faces masks of practiced stoicism as they watched Twilight pass. The unicorns, a mix of dragoons and battle-mages, all wore swords strapped to the sides. The Earth guards leaned on pikes, while the Pegasi appeared to only wear their polished armour.

Twilight barely suppressed a little smile as she ascended the dais in slow measured steps. Atop the dais, Twilight bowed to the gathered the princesses in turn; going from Celestia to Luna before finally Cadence. Around her hundreds of ponies watched with bated breath as the princesses each bowed in return. Cadence's eyes danced with mirth as she lingered a little in her bow before she rose.

All three princesses wore gowns similar to Twilight's. None were as elaborate, but all seemed designed to showcase the Princess' aspect. Celestia's had light golden and brassy yellow tones trimmed with rubies and scarlet creating the impression of sunrise. Luna's was a pale silver like moonlight had been turned into a shroud and draped over her. Pinks and reds swirled together in heart shaped patterns throughout Cadence's gown. The sight of one would have been enough to steal most pony's breaths. Together they left the crowd speechless.

Taking a deep breath, Twilight turned to face the crowd. Her outer expression of supposed calm almost shattered at the eyes staring up at her. She was anything but calm, all the eyes not belonging to her family and friends seemed to judge her. A short bench had been prepared for Twilight, draped in a cover of royal purple and white trim. Fortifying herself, Twilight settled on the bench, Celestia, Luna, and Cadence behind her.

The voices of the choir swelled then ended, leaving a blanket of silence in their wake.

Collectively, every pony present held their breath, each fearing to be the one to intrude on the moment. In a steady clip-clip, Blessed moved to stand before Twilight. The Revered Speaker bowed, first to Twilight, then to each princess in turn, before turning to face the crowd.

“It is recorded in the Book of Harmony that it was when Ioka was young that the Namegiver appeared among pony-kind, along with her sister, the Springbringer. And, while the Springbringer has since left us, the Namegiver has remained to guide and care for all ponykind.”

Blessed’s voice boomed through the throne room as she spoke, intoning the words in solemn reverence for each.

“Though it has been many years since she last appeared among us, her presence is felt every day of our lives. It is in the peace and harmony we enjoy. The safety to raise our foals and enjoy the comforts of our herds. And, in the names by which we are known. Each is her first and greatest gift to each and every one of us, and though they don’t always make sense at first, our names each speaks to our deeper connections to the disc and each other.”

Pausing, Blessed looked over the crowd, and though she focused on no pony in particular, every pony in the crowd knew she was looking at them, and only them.

“For over a thousand years, since the Age of Chaos was brought to an end, we have been protected and guided by the Namegiver’s daughters; Celestia Invictus and Luna Invictus; and her grand-daughter, Cadence Invictus. And now, another joins them in the sacred stewardship of us all.

“Ladies and Lords, honoured guests, and friends, I here present unto you, Her Highness, Twilight Abigail—”

Twilight had begun to rise when a sharp crack and the smell of ozone broke through the hall. Twilight winced as the powerful, ancient protective spells woven through the walls began to pop like fireworks, showering the guests with rainbow sparks. A second crack followed the first, the remaining wards sundering beneath a hammering blow of magic.

A silver light blinked into being at the midpoint of the aisle, spinning and flashing, pure aether pulsing from it like a heartbeat.

While Celestia and Luna shared worried looks, Cadence leaned towards the doors with more curiosity than alarm on her face. Throughout the hall ponies looked around, some whispered questioningly if the display was part of the ceremony. They couldn't feel what Twilight and the princesses sensed.

Or what Tyr felt, apparently, as the filly began to scream.

"It's Hera!" Tyr yelled at the top of her voice as she dived beneath Cadence.

Twilight barely had time to wonder who Hera was before the orb grew in size, double once, twice, and then over and over until it formed a dome that filled the aisle. The nearest ponies edged away, panicked whinnies breaking out across the throne room. Narrowing her eyes, Twilight could see dozens upon dozens of runes rolling in perfect lines across the shell of the spell. Some wavered in and out of existence, while others seethed and hissed. A few of the runes twisted and spun in on themselves, denying any hope of clearly identifying all the runes in use.

Collapsing in on itself, the spell ended, revealing a tall pony wrapped in a green traveler’s cloak. Spotted white fur trimmed the cloak, and golden shod hooves clicked in the sudden silence that had fallen over the hall like a death-shroud as she shifted to look around. Though the cloak was drawn up so it covered her features, it did little to hide the newcomer’s nature from the crowd. Through slits in the cloak's side sat a pair of snow white wings and a long slender horn thrust forth from hole in the hood. A timid murmur of confusion began to sweep the crowd.

In her ears Twilight could hear her heart hammering. Her throat clenched shut and a few simple words echoed through her head, 'Is this my mother?'

The scent of rainy mornings and pine needles wafted over Twilight. It was vaguely familiar, like the memory of a dream. Twilight began to take a step towards the uninvited alicorn, only to be stopped as Celestia leapt over her and the Revered Speaker with a flap of her wings. Anger and heat rolled off the elder princess in waves, her shoes cracking like thunder as she landed. Shining and the other guards all set their shoulders and stances, those practiced with weapons drawing their blades. They all stood ready to charge to their princess' aide at a moment's notice.

"Iridia, you are not welcome here," Celestia stated, her words filled with fire and venom.

Iridia. A shiver ran up Twilight's back, she knew the name from pre-classical history, from before the founding of Equestria. A terrible tyrant, she had marched at the head of a black army slaughtering all that fell beneath her gaze. Deathgiver, Black Star, She Who Shall Not Be Named, Bloodmaned; many were her titles, none of them pleasant. History recorded that it was Clover the Clever who stood before the Dread Queen and halted her advance, casting her down into the fiery pits that were Tartarus.

"Come now, Tia, there is no need for melodrama or theatrics." The alicorn’s voice was as cold as the light of the spring moon and full of a rich silvery timbre. As she spoke she threw back her hood revealing eyes clear as a pond beneath the morning sun and a mane of honey-suckle yellow with a band of golden wheat. "I apologize if my entrance startled you, but I was running late.”

“You would dare to intrude?” Celestia snarled the question.

“Intrude!? I thought all of Twilight’s family was welcome to her presentation,” Iridia snapped, wings flaring. “I am her mother, after-all. I have a right to be here.”

The declaration sent a shiver through Twilight. Happiness warred with confusion and doubt, leaving her thoughts in scattered disarray. Heart pounding, Twilight glanced between her birth mother and Celestia, watching as the pair glared at each other.

Taking a moment to settle her wings, Iridia continued in a gentler voice.

“This is meant to be a joyous day. We should not be fighting. We can settle our little spat later.” Iridia gave a lopsided smile, “Besides, I thought you’d be happy, Tia, that I did things your mother’s way for once. I fostered Twilight and remained out of her life, giving her the normal foalhood everypony deserves.”

“Happy?” Celestia repeated the word with a harsh, almost disbelieving bite to her voice. “Next you’ll claim to have ‘done what you must’, damning the consequences and ignoring who you have harmed in the process. You hide behind those words like they are a shield. If you truly cared, you would have been here sooner. You would have at least been a presence in her life.”

“I arrived as quick as I could, but I am not without responsibilities of my own. If you had deigned to give me appropriate notice, this whole debacle could have been avoided. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to slip out of Thornhaven for even a few hours? Or maybe this was all a ploy to draw out my sister. Is that it? Did you try to set a trap using my daughter?”

Eyes widening in disbelief, Celestia advanced a step. In a low voice she said, “Leave, now, and never return to my lands.”

Face contorting as if she’d been struck, Iridia took a half-step back. She glanced from Celestia to the ceiling, her brow pinching in thought, before nodding once and looking over to Twilight as she said, “Daughter, I am sorry. Should you wish to find me, come to our castle in Reinalla. Just… be wary if you do.”

Iridia began to turn, the motion making Twilight take a quick step forward and reach out with a platinum shod hoof.

“What? No. I... Please," Twilight looked between Celesia and Iridia, "both of you, stop."

“Agreed. Sister, please.” Luna went to Twilight’s side.

Celestia looked between her sister and Twilight, then to Iridia. With a sharp turn, Celestia said, “No, not in this. That… monster is not welcome in my presence.”

“I see I can not make you acknowledge reason,” Iridia gave her head a slow shake. “You’re as hard headed as the Halla, niece. If you are so intent on this folly, then so be it. It is a mistake, and not an insignificant one.”

Irida began to leave, only to be stopped again by Twilight’s pleading voice.

"Wait."

Ponies throughout the throne room started at the forlorn note in the voice, and for a moment Twilight was also confused having not intended to sound so desperate.

“Don’t go,” Twilight called. “I have so many questions. I need them answered before this can proceed.”

A low murmur rippled through the crowd as Celestia glanced back at Twilight, a disapproving scowl firmly in place.

“Well, we can postpone the remainder of the ceremony, can’t we? I mean, until we sort this out, right? It shouldn’t take too long, I hope.” Twilight looked between Celestia, Luna, and her parents, before glance over to Blessed.

It was Celestia that answered, stating, “No, we will see this through. Iridia… you may stay.”

Twilight shuddered at the look Celestia gave Iridia, one filled with an ancient loathing. Heat still rolling off her, Celestia turned back to the dais, her tale snapping through the air.

For her part, Iridia just smiled brightly and said, “Very good,” before practically skipping up the dais and settling on a conjured cushion.

As Iridia passed Blessed, the Revered Speaker made a deep bow, saying, “An honour, Springbringer.”

The remainder of the presentation passed mostly in a blur for Twilight. She was too busy completing her breathing exercises while trying to settle her racing heart to pay attention. The constant glances she sent towards Iridia certainly didn’t help either. Blessed restarted her sermon—Twilight was later told it was decent, if a little long winded on the subject of redemption and forgiveness at times—and then presented Twilight properly to the assembly.

“Ladies and Lords, honoured guests, and friends, without any further interruptions, I hereby present unto you, Her Divine Highness, Twilight Abigail Tuilerya; Princess of the Taiga, Goddess of the Stars and Wishes, Nightwatcher, and the Jailer of Chaos.”

Twilight found her mouth falling more and more open as Blessed spoke and then moved to the side, bowing to indicate it was time for Twilight to step forward properly. Much like being unable to recall the sermon, Twilight was in a daze as she gave her own short speech, performing it through rote practice alone. Her friends later assured her that she'd appeared to be a beacon of composure with a strong voice that had resonated out of the throne room and into Canterlot beyond. Her words had been uplifting, calming and reassuring as Twilight had intended when writing the speech.

Then she sat back down while the ceremony was concluded. After the speeches, the Divine Procession began, Blessed Harmony taking the lead, her head held high. There was a moment of confusion as both Celestia and Iridia stepped up to Twilight to take a place at her side.

After glaring at each other over Twilight’s back, they found her starting down the aisle without them, each quickly joining, Celestia on Twilight’s right, and Iridia on her left. Luna then Cadence followed, heads angled at a proud tilt. The choir sang an ancient hymn, one Twilight didn’t recognize as the procession made its way from the throne room and to the gardens, and the gala in Twilight’s honour.

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