> Princess > by PencilPony > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gusts of wind rushed through the pristine evening air, obstructing what might have been an otherwise enjoyable flight for the sky's travelers. Two tan pegasi clad in royal armor flapped their wings furiously and tucked their heads in towards their chests to avoid the brunt of the wind, their chariot's enchanted wheels clicking and clacking as if it were being pulled along an earthen road instead of an airborne highway. The former, Twilight reflected, probably would have been much easier for the battered guards to navigate--less nerve-wracking for their passenger, too. Even though Twilight sought out some extra flying lessons from Rainbow Dash in preparation for this excursion, she was by no means confident enough to move a muscle from the very middle of the chariot's velvety seat. She kept her hooves firmly planted in the cushion's plush depths and only briefly checked to see if her fellow princesses were still nearby before determinedly focusing on the empty airspace ahead. Celestia and Luna's chariots flew alongside hers, their passengers considerably more relaxed. Luna was languishing on her dark cushion, resting her head on the edge of her sleek black chariot to peer down at the scenery below. The light of the sunset glinted off her obsidian crown, tinging it a dark shade of red. Wind tore at her vaporous mane and sent sparkling pinpricks of illumination swirling behind her chariot, twisting and contorting into miniature short-lived galaxies. Twilight had already thought about chancing a glance down at the fast-moving ground below to share in the fascination of the sights, but the thought of going near the edge of her chariot brought to mind far too many disastrous scenarios, all of which involved inconveniently forgetting her newly-acquired wings and facing the unpleasant consequences. Celestia, meanwhile, remained perfectly composed in her chariot, the picture of serenity even as the uncooperative weather flattened her flowing aurora-hued mane against the back of her seat. Her crown was wrapped in a mass of billowing ethereal mane, its three sharp points only just managing to avoid being smothered with the rest. Her golden neck brace reflected the gleam of the setting sun, imitating its brilliance to the point that Twilight could hardly look in its general direction for more than a second before her eyes began to burn. Celestia met Twilight's eyes whenever the two checked each other at the same time, and offered the much-appreciated--if ultimately ineffective--smile at every possible opportunity. Twilight hoped the return trip would be less blustery. "How much longer?" she called. They had been flying for hours, and Twilight began to worry that she would never be able to remove her hooves where she had rooted them to her seat. Twilight's guards exchanged glances, their faces betraying that they, too, were eager to know the answer to her question. Wind whistled around Luna's chariot as it moved nearer, slicing through the gusty opposition with ease. Luna leaned further over the edge of her chariot, placing one silver hoofshoe on the side of Twilight's vessel. "If you would look for yourself," she said flatly, "you would know the answer to that question." Before Twilight could respond, Luna looked over Twilight's shoulder and rolled her eyes. "We are very nearly at our destination," she amended reluctantly, "if you could not tell by the severity of these winds. The griffons always were fond of foolhardy flying." "Oh." Twilight leaned forward an inch to look over the front of her chariot. Far below, obscured by clouds, she could make out sandy orange stone with what appeared to be canyons digging deep into its surface. Small rivers and rivulets crisscrossed the terrain, running down the sides of the canyons into the gloom below. The Griffon Kingdom. She'd only read about it in books and seen crude representations on maps, but never beheld the harsh territory for herself. After a swift thrill of excitement, she fault nausea start to bubble up in her stomach. "I see now." She pushed herself back against her seat and flashed a sheepish grin at Luna. "Thanks." Luna nodded. She shoved away from Twilight's chariot, her batpony guards grunting as they were caught off guard by the movement. Twilight's chariot tilted only slightly with the force of Luna's push, but the smallest movement was enough to make Twilight let out an indignant squeak of fright. She heard Celestia's chariot draw closer. "It's almost over," Celestia promised. "We'll land and wait for daybreak before meeting their delegate. I hope you remember your studies on the subject." My studies. Twilight's legs became flesh again, instead of stiff boards. "Of course," she said, a tinge of confidence creeping into her voice. She cycled through her mental archives, pulling out every piece of information she had ever learned about the griffons and their culture. To her satisfaction, she found a wide array of political and conversational topics, perfect fodder for a meeting with a griffon representative. A smile made its way across her muzzle. "I'm ready whenever they are, Princess." Celestia beamed back at her, her pride warming Twilight faster than the rays of the summer sun. "I knew you would." She glanced down over the edge of her chariot, then frowned. "We should have been landing by now. Guards," she chimed, "take us down, please." The wind faded from Twilight's ears as the guards adjusted their course, taking a smooth path through the feathery white clouds towards the ground. Twilight took a deep breath, her heart's nervous staccato lessening the closer they drew to earth. The chariot's wheels met the ground without the smallest of jolts, and the guards ran a short ways along the dusty orange stone to ensure the vessel slowed to a perfect stop. In short, it was Twilight's favorite part of the ride. She stretched her stiff muscles and tottered out onto sweet, sweet ground. Despite having hardly moved the whole ride, her nerves were worn and battered. The other princess' hoofshoes clicked against the stone ground as they somewhat more gracefully descended from their chariots. There was a hum of energy in the air as they summoned their magic, and the sound of armor being unfastened as the guards were released from their stations. Twilight jumped to attention when she realized her guards were still standing where they had stopped, stoically facing straight ahead. "Sorry, sorry!" she gasped, rushing over and fumbling with her magic to release her guards. Their harnesses unfastened with a sharp snap, falling limp at their sides. "Y-you're done now. I"--she looked at the other princesses, taking cues from the way they were gesturing to their pegasi--"think we're going to stay here tonight, so you can..." What could they do? Light a fire? There were no trees in sight; nothing but rutted sandy stone stretching from one horizon to the next. Take a break? Twilight had tried that more times than she cared to count, but had yet to encounter a guard who would accept taking a break as an order. Her guards might as well have been chiseled out of granite for all the emotion they displayed as they watched their princess struggle with the most basic of royal tasks. "You can... watch the chariot!" Twilight perked up as she struck upon the idea. She let out a peal of relieved laughter. "Yes, that's perfect! You can do that while I, er, do something else." She was acutely aware of the grins on both princess' faces as her guards saluted and marched a few paces to stand next to the chariot proper. Celestia's was the smile of a mother bird watching a fledgling wobble through its first flight: amused, but appreciative of the fledgling's efforts. Luna's lopsided smirk betrayed that she was more entertained by said fledgling's attempts than compassionate. Twilight swallowed and plastered the most composed expression at her disposal upon her muzzle. With as much grace as she could muster, she sauntered over to join the other princesses. "So," she said, "what now? I don't see any griffons around, or any shelter, for that matter." She cast around at the empty scenery, then glanced up at the sky and noted its deepening shade of crimson. "And it's nearly night." "We wait," Celestia answered simply. "The delegate knows our location and will arrive in the morning. As for shelter, griffon cities are not designed to accommodate ponies. We will have to make do with our chariots for the night." Disappointment settled in Twilight's stomach. Ruefully, she wondered why she hadn't brought a book for company. "Can we at least look at the griffon cities?" she inquired, peering hopefully up at Celestia. "If they know we're visiting, they won't mind, right?" Luna let out a short bark of derisive mirth. "Fly into those shadowy canyons at this hour, surrounded by notoriously fierce creatures with talons? Forgive me if I value my well-being." Twilight tilted her head. Were the griffons really so unfriendly as to warrant such a reputation? She had never heard of them being an exceptionally notorious race before. Biting her tongue, she waited for Luna to carry on. Ignoring Celestia's snort of warning, Luna continued. "No, Twilight Sparkle. Their queen may have permitted us entry, but her citizens are not renowned for their hospitality. They would mark us intruders in an instant. Indeed, we arrived at this very hour to avoid any unnecessary encounters." She paused, glancing up at Celestia. "Am I incorrect, fair sister?" Celestia sighed. "No," she conceded, turning her gaze to the ground. A shadow seemed to cross her face, then she met Twilight's eyes. "You must understand that not all nations are as harmonious as Equestria." "I know that," Twilight responded quickly. It was true--she had gotten a taste of chaos during Discord's temporary reign, and seen what suffering could do to the ponies of the Crystal Empire. But hearing that a perfectly civilized and established empire partook in such foreign practices as hostility suddenly made her pay extra attention to the fading amount of light. "I just wasn't expecting it here." "Understandably, but enough of that. You won't be experiencing any unpleasant encounters with this delegate; he's a fine diplomat. You must be getting some sleep if you're to provide adequate conversation for him in the morning. Luna"--Celestia nodded to her sister--"I believe it is time for the moon to rise." Luna's horn fizzed and spat, then flashed a brilliant shade of silver. A magical aura surrounded her horn as she tilted her head to face the sky. "I am aware," she said curtly, her voice hardly wavering even as she lifted the enormous full moon into the sky. Twilight watched Luna's every move, a sense of exhilaration tingling up her spine even though she was not the one to guide the moon on its celestial path. She tried and failed to suppress a sense of envy as Luna nonchalantly dimmed the light of her horn, as if shepherding the moon was nothing more than a brisk stretch for her magical power. Luna noticed Twilight's admiration and ruffled her wings awkwardly. "Perfect," Celestia said cheerfully. Her white coat stood out in sharp contrast to the gloom of the night, whereas Luna seemed to have suddenly faded to nothing more than a shadow. "Twilight, I know you've conjured a wisp before. We'll need light for tonight." "A wisp," Twilight repeated, her brow furrowed. "Oh! Yes, those, of course I've done those." She remembered conjuring the little flickering balls of light as a filly whenever she woke up from particularly frightening nightmares, but hadn't found much use for them since. Even so, she had never forgotten their artificial comfort during taxing nights. They were a convenient source of light when one couldn't stay up all night with their horn aglow. Also good for keeping animals away, Twilight thought, guiltily realizing she was thinking about the griffons. The air around her horn became supercharged with violet energy as she concentrated on siphoning her magic away from herself and into a separate form. Celestia began to do the same, her golden magic like a beacon in the darkness. Two swirling clumps of magic began to form in front of them; one gold, one purple. Luna's horn began to glow, but was extinguished as she hesitated. "The light of the stars will be enough for us." She eyed the floating nightlights warily. "I never did like how those things spark in the middle of the night. They sting worse than a manticore." Twilight watched fondly as her wisp bobbed through the air. It sputtered and popped, leaving behind tiny sparkling particles as it went, but not for a second did its comforting light fade. She reached out and took the wisp into her magical grasp, holding it close like a lamp. "Done," she chirped. As an afterthought, she indulged in a little flourishing of her work, spinning the wisp around her head until she began to get dizzy from following it with her eyes. Celestia chortled. She held her nightlight, which resembled a miniature sun, above her head, where it seemed to drive off even the darkest gloom of the night. "That's enough, Twilight," she chided gently. With one wing extended, she walked over and nudged Twilight back towards her chariot. "You'll wear yourself out before morning comes." "It's nothing," Twilight assured her. However, she made no attempt to slip out from under Celestia's wing as they walked back towards her chariot. "I know exactly what I'm going to say to the delegate, I might as well enjoy myself. I thought maybe if I draw some parallels between our society and theirs, we could be able to introduce a griffon settlement to Equestria; I've heard Cloudsdale would be more than happy to accommodate for them, at least according to Rainbow Dash..." Being ushered off to bed with ideas running through her head and her back shadowed by one of Celestia's great feathered wings made it all too easy to forget that they were on a diplomatic trip instead of leisurely wandering the halls of Celestia's magic school. So much had changed since then--new friends, new home, new role in Equestria. Though she had feared her relationship with Celestia would crumble, or become more distant after her coronation, Celestia had guided Twilight like a mother through every step of her journey. She hoped it would never change--she knew all too well she would need her mentor's guidance even more in the coming days. Her guards nodded as she clambered up into her chariot. She jumped up onto the velvety seat, which was large enough to double as a bed. She flopped over on her side, setting her wisp to float above her guards' heads to better aid their sight. Her muzzle sank deep into the plush cushion and she sighed, stretching her legs to touch from one end of the chariot to the other. It wasn't her bed in the library, but it wasn't half-bad either. Her mind still buzzed with ideas about the coming meeting, but began to wander back to Ponyville. How were her friends? Were they alright? Did Applejack get all her farm work done? Was Pinkie Pie baking away, or throwing a late-night party? Was Rarity laboring over her latest creation? Did Fluttershy need any help with her animals? Was Rainbow Dash sneaking into the library to see if the latest Daring Do novel had come in? Did they worry about her? Should she be worried about herself? Sleeping in an open chariot on what Luna had described as the territory of hostile creatures--she was surrounded by guards and had the other princesses, true, but the shadow of the thought made Twilight's heart squirm. What could griffons do to ponies with wings and magic? What would they try, if anything? Would they come creeping silently up from their underground cities of crags and nests, or dive down from the sky? Twilight realized she had her eyes wide open. She lifted her head and shifted in her seat, ears taut and homing in on the slightest of sounds. Her wisp was fizzing and Celestia was snoring in the most elegant way possible, but there was no clack of claws against stone or whistle of wind through feathers. Maybe Luna and Celestia were wrong. Maybe their information had been outdated. For all her readings on the subject, Twilight had never once come upon a mention of griffons being violent creatures. Proud, yes, but pegasi were proud, and among the most loyal races on the planet. "Your Highness?" one of her guards whispered. Twilight was snapped instantly out of her reverie. One of her guards, talking? If she had brought supplies for taking notes she might have written the occurrence down as a great milestone in her royal experience. "Yes?" she whispered back, filing her thoughts about griffons in her mental archives for later consideration. "Do you feel safe?" Twilight was momentarily lost for words. "Well, where did that question come from?" The guard fidgeted awkwardly. His partner continued to rotate his head in a mechanical fashion, clearly doing his best not to get involved in the conversation. "You were... looking around." Twilight considered telling the guard what was bothering her. Would he insist that all was fine and prove ultimately no help at all, despite that he was bold enough to speak to her? Or would he be able to provide enough convincing evidence to banish the thoughts of griffon attacks from her mind? Either way, she wasn't about to pass up this rare opportunity to talk with one of her guards. Once again, she rued herself for not bringing a single piece of parchment for notes. "Is what Princess Luna said true?" she asked quietly. "About the griffons being hostile?" The guard was silent. Twilight feared she had overloaded his thought processes, or startled him into not speaking with her any more. She was about to reach a tentative hoof over the side of her chariot and prod him to check his reaction time when his partner took pity on him, and stopped his robotic surveillance to answer. "We do not know, Princess. We only know our duty." His clipped speech and brazen tones were what Twilight had come to expect from all royal guards. She suppressed a groan of frustration and thumped her head back down on the velvet cushion. Maybe royal guards were even less capable of operating outside of duty than she had thought. As this thought settled in her mind, she was surprised again when the first guard spoke up. "Is there an order that would make you feel safer?" Was there? She mulled over the question for a few seconds. "No," she grunted. When she realized how snappy her response sounded, she added, "But thank you." "You're welcome, Princess." Twilight propped her head up on the edge of chariot, staring at the back of the guard's head. She could see his partner gazing at him with a set jaw, his eyes narrowed. He spotted her looking down at them and hastily resumed his surveillance motion. Twilight pondered if there was anything she could do to make this a more common occurrence. While it hadn't been the most enlightening conversation she'd held, it certainly had been a welcome change from the stuffy treatment she usually received from guards. "Actually," she said, "there is one thing you could do." "Yes, Your Highness?" Both guards responded with the exact same stiffness and tone, which only made Twilight more confident in giving her order. "I'd like it if you both talked to me like that all the time. You and all the other guards. That's my order. I also want to know your names." To their credit, neither guard coughed or spluttered like Twilight had expected. The first guard twisted his head to look over his shoulder at her, and she could read the surprise in his slack-jawed expression. His partner shuffled his hooves and seemed more embarrassed than shocked, but was the first to respond. "My name is... Brisk Blade, Your Majesty." "Mine is Silver Sheath, Princess." Twilight nodded. Warmth began to spread from the bottom of her hooves to the tip of her muzzle. She smiled at the two guards and received two very forced grimaces back. "Thank you." She thumped her head back down on her cushion, all thoughts of griffon attacks pushed to the depths of her mind. "Good night, Silver Sheath and Brisk Blade. I'll see you in the morning." As she drifted off to sleep, the guards' farewell mumbles echoing in her mind, Twilight's wisp shimmered above her head. It watched over the scene, seeming to bob in conjunction with its caster's surge of happiness. Its cheerful glow on her eyelids was the last thing Twilight remembered before she submitted to the world of dreams. She was flying. She was flying through the griffon's canyons, ducking under their craggy nests and gliding through shadowy tunnels. She emerged beneath a waterfall and looked down to see that the water plunged hundreds of hooves deep into the ground. Griffons slumbered in their underground city, curled up in various nooks and crannies of the canyons. It was quite spacious in their home, despite mostly being underground. Thousands and thousands of years of water had created overhangs and enormous hollows, with caves so big it was easy to forget there weren't clouds hanging overhead. She perched on a craggy outcrop and watched as one family of griffons slept. A mother and her fledglings, looking as peaceful as anypony indulging in a wonderful dream, slumbered in the shadow of the canyon. She kicked off from the rock and hovered closer, trying to make out the expressions on their faces. Were they happy? Were they at peace? Were they dangerous? What was this she felt? She wanted to say she believed in the family's innocence; she wanted to believe they would never hurt her or her friends. The soft look on the fledgling's faces was hardly one of a vicious enemy. But looking at their mother's gnarled talons and beak reminded Twilight that one day those fledglings would grow up. They would lose their soft downy coats and learn the ways of their nation. She didn't know whether it would a way of love and acceptance, or if they would one day threaten the citizens of Equestria. It was all so foreign to her. Her first instinct was to huddle up next to the young and shield them from the cold that permeated the air, but the memory of Luna's words, prevalent even in her dream, held her back. This was different from looking at Chrysalis or Discord, or any of the enemies she and her friends had faced before. The griffons weren't clearly in the wrong--was there a wrong in this situation to begin with? The mother began to stir. She peeled open one scaly eyelid to reveal a feral pupil and curled her tail tighter around her young. Raising her thick, muscled neck, she looked Twilight straight in the eye. Twilight's breath caught in her throat and she tried desperately to wing away, but found she couldn't move. She wanted to tell the mother she was only watching and wished her young happiness, but her muzzle refused to cooperate. The mother's pupil shrunk and the feathers along the crest of her head began to rise. She opened her beak, her face contorting into an ugly snarl-- --and Twilight awoke to the screaming of a thousand vultures. > Chapter 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twilight tumbled from the chariot's bed and slammed her head against its railing, rendering her incapable of registering the clawed shadow tearing through the cushion where she had slumbered until vital seconds after it had passed. By then, her attacker had reversed and was coming in for the second assault, his scraggly gray feathers and scaly talons illuminated as he came within range of Twilight's wisp light. The screeches of other griffons--fifty, sixty, there was no time to count--bombarded Twilight's ears, but once she spotted the blood on the incoming griffon's claws, all else faded. She had a single second to realize they were under attack before the griffon was upon her. Talons latched onto Twilight's haunches and hauled her, kicking vainly and making a din fit to raise Tartarus, along the hard stone terrain. She yelped as the thorn-sharp claws dug into her muscles, making each kick weaker and more painful. The griffon tore his talons from her haunches and reared up on his hind paws, and Twilight blinked away the water welling in her eyes as she rolled out of the way of what could have been a bone-shattering ground pound. Heaving and wheezing, Twilight began to drag herself away with her forelegs. She then remembered her wings, but too late. As she unfurled her wings the griffon pounced on her, shoving her nose into the dirt and pinning her newly-acquired appendages to the earth. "Twilight!" Celestia's frantic voice rose above the chaos. Twilight's hopes soared and she grunted as loud as she could, only to have her efforts drowned out by the noise of the attack. For a fleeting moment she believed Celestia would look over her chariot and heave the griffin from her prized pupil's back as easily as she would pluck a petal from a rose, but such assistance never came. The griffon had been wise enough to drag her out of the range of her wisp's light, and Celestia only could have seen an eerily empty chariot if she cast about in Twilight's direction. The griffon began pressing her head into the ground. She had moments before her neck was snapped or her head crushed under the weight of her attacker. She couldn't cast any offensive magic--the griffon seemed to be making a point of grinding her horn as painfully as possible into the stone, and even if she could bring her head up she doubted she would be able to buy enough time to cast a teleportation spell. Her hind legs were completely shot, the muscles punctured and rendered virtually useless. Her wisp. It was too late to use it to guide Celestia, but maybe she still had time to call it to her side. There was no time to calculate how fast she could summon it from this range. Neck muscles howling in protest, Twilight lifted her head a millimeter off the ground, her horn bursting to life like a small supernova. The griffon immediately screeched, this time not a cry of war but a cry of agony. His talons lifted from Twilight's neck and she flipped over to see her wisp burning into his flesh. Shocked at her own brutality, Twilight pulled back her weapon. "Get off!" she demanded, her voice several octaves higher than she had intended. "Don't--" Her sentence was cut off as the griffon roared and struck towards Twilight's face with his razor-sharp beak. Her wisp shot in his path, grinding into one wild amber eye. He recoiled, grasping at his head and screaming as Twilight's magic worked its way deeper into his skull. Twilight hardly noticed what she was doing until blood streamed onto her cheek and the griffon fell to his side, his cries fading to faint moans of what Twilight could only imagine to be deepest suffering. But even those fell ominously silent. In that moment of shock, Twilight had the chance to realize the gravity of what she had just done. Her wisp fizzled out, leaving behind an empty hollow where an eye had once leered down at her. She had done the unthinkable. There was only one word for it, so old and barbaric even the most learned of ponies preferred to ignore what its very existence entailed. She had committed murder. Her mind threatened to go blank. She had to keep it together. Around her roared a commotion of wings, claws, paws, and flashes of light at the edge of her vision. It was only a matter of time before one of her enemies noticed she wasn't in the process of being killed and took up the task. Two sets of bloodstained hooves were thundering towards her. Twilight looked up and saw her guards, their armor stained scarlet and scored by powerful claws. She tried to speak, to say their names, to ask them what was happening, but her voice was shaking too much. When she looked into their eyes, desperate to convey the questions locked in her head, she saw the same messages reflected back at her. Then Twilight fixated on an avian figure charging up behind the guards and let out a strangled warning. Her guards--Brisk Blade and Silver Sheath--spun around on their hind hooves, forelegs raised in preparation to crush the griffon as it streaked towards them. Without breaking stride and displaying the utmost of cat-like grace, the griffon knocked the two pegasi off their hooves with one swipe of its talon. The guards flared their wings, catching themselves before they fell completely to the ground. Silver Sheath--at least, Twilight thought it was Silver Sheath beneath the bloody helmet--flung himself over the griffon's head as it plunged towards Twilight, apparently completely unconcerned that it could no longer see where it was going. "Princess!" Brisk Blade bellowed. Twilight focused her magic. She wouldn't kill again, she couldn't kill again, but she had to stop the griffon before it trampled her. A blast of solid magical energy flew straight into the griffon's chest, sending it reeling away as though it had hit a very real obstacle. Silver Sheath maintained his hold on the griffon's head, bringing one forehoof down again and again on his enemy's skull. In moments the griffon had ceased moving, and Silver Sheath shakily backed away from its corpse. It was no victory to Twilight, and just from looking at the grim circles under her guard's eyes, she could see her guards shared the sentiment. Each griffon defeated was only a tragedy, one they couldn't explain, one they had instigated. Twilight was unable to tell whether it was blood or tears trickling down the sides of her face. Gritting her teeth, she turned her attention to her decimated haunches. There were more griffons coming, and she had to be able to move. A brilliant golden beam seared the air like a strike of lightning, followed up quickly by a frigid explosion of silver energy. By the light of the princesses' spells, Twilight could see other griffons hanging back, watching her and the guards with calculated caution. Her guards stood staunchly by her side, muscles taut as they braced for another attack. Griffons flew low overhead, harassing the guards but never coming quite as close as before. Twilight clenched her jaw as her magic knitted the broken muscles back together, forcing herself to hurry despite the pain. It would be a shoddy job, but she would at least be able to run. "Can you stand, Princess?" Silver Sheath asked, his voice ragged. He made to offer a hoof for support, but stumbled as he raised his foreleg. Moved by the gesture, Twilight snatched Silver Sheath up in her magical grasp before he could fall and set him firmly back down on the ground. He flattened his ears abashedly. "Thank you," Twilight said. "But I think I can stand on my own." She staggered to her hooves, wincing as pain lanced up her hind legs. Upon realizing that her voice had returned, she wasted no time in speaking the question that had been trapped in her head. "Why are the griffons attacking us? I-I thought they knew we were here for a diplomatic mission." She kept one eye on the shadows of griffons prowling in the night behind the guards. It was impossible to count how many there were, but Twilight had a sinking suspicion that it had to be at least an entire city's worth. She knew without turning around that there were griffons lurking in the gloom behind her. The more time they spent lingering, the longer the griffons would have to organize a larger assault. The guards bowed their heads. "We... cannot answer that question," Brisk Blade admitted. "It is all we can do protect you, Your--" "Don't waste your breath," Twilight interrupted. If the guards didn't have any answers, there would be no benefits to squandering unnecessary time at leisure. She ducked as another griffon whisked overhead, feeling the air stirred by its talons ruffle her mane. "Come here, the both of you. You can't help if you're bleeding like that." Brisk Blade flinched as the magenta aura of Twilight's magic settled over a gash across his snout. "But your energy--" "I don't care!" Twilight fumed. Frustration churned in her gut. She was angry with herself for not having answers, but even angrier that the guards seemed to have no care for themselves when she bore the least wounds. "You are my subjects, and you are going to survive. That is an order." The gravity of her words settled over the guards as she tended to their injuries. Neither guard dared speak a word, nor did they make a sound of protest as Twilight swept the blood from their eyes. The griffons continued to lurk outside of the illumination of Twilight's magical aura. Even after she was done with the guards, Twilight kept her horn ablaze, both for light and in case she needed to charge up a spell. She swung her head back and forth, squinting her eyes to see if she could discern the griffon's exact movements in the gloom. Why aren't they attacking? Another ray of golden light shimmered across the night sky. There were more shrieks, but from much farther off. Twilight felt her heart skip a beat as the answer to her question became clear. "They're luring Celestia and Luna away." She shook her head, trying to throw off the terror that had settled upon her thoughts like a dark fog. "That's why they're so quiet. They're waiting until they can attack without alerting the others." Silver Sheath opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He swallowed when he spotted Twilight looking at him intently. "I-I was going to suggest we leave before the other princesses are too far removed from our location," he said hastily. "But I will do as I am commanded, of course." In the back of her mind, Twilight made a mental note to apologize to the guards for being short-tempered with them. She nodded sharply, then sighed. It's a good thing I placed well in the Running of the Leaves. "I'm going to cast a shield," she decided. "We're all going to get under it and run at the griffons. If they don't move, they should get... knocked out of the way, hopefully." I'm not going to kill again. "We'll be pursued," Brisk Blade pointed out. "There will be no chance for rest." "No, there won't," Twilight agreed. She narrowed her eyes and semi-transparent dome of magical energy began to form over their heads. Griffons swooped experimentally close to the half-formed shield, then squawked in surprise as it spat magical sparks at their advances. "So get ready. We're heading towards Celestia and Luna." Twilight's shield developed into a sphere that surrounded the trio on all sides. The griffons stirred and began to move in closer, slinking into the light of the glowing shield. Their avian features were cast with a violet hue, highlighting the curves of their talons and meticulously sharpened beaks. Twilight could see the determined gleam in their eyes as they drew near. For the first time that night, she remembered Luna's words about the griffons being notoriously vicious, and not for a second did she doubt that they had been proven true. She bolted, and the guards were all too happy to follow her example. They plowed straight into the line of approaching griffons. The shield bent under the enormous weight and Twilight frantically channeled more energy into her spell, knowing that if the shield shattered, they would be at the mercy of their attackers. The griffons dug their hind paws into the ground, but only succeeded in scraping their pads across the stony ground as Twilight relentlessly pushed them backwards. Sweat beaded on her brow as the griffons began to shove back, snapping their beaks and hissing. They were heavy, much heavier than she had expected. They scraped at the face of the shield with their talons, sending pain running up Twilight's horn. Her shield crackled and spouted sparks that singed the griffons' feathers and fur, yet still they refused to move aside. Passive tactics weren't going to be sufficient, but Twilight dreaded the alternative. Move, she pleaded. I've had enough of hurting you tonight. "Behind us!" Silver Sheath warned. Her shield shook as a griffon collided with it from behind and she stumbled forward, narrowly avoiding a disastrous faceplant. The griffons at the fore of the shield refused to budge, even as she shoved with strength renewed by fear. If anything, the advances from behind only gave them more energy, as they cawed what Twilight imagined to be encouragement to their fellows. She and her guards had to escape now or their protection would be crushed between the two waves. Twilight spread her wings. "Fly," she said desperately. "We'll have a better chance flying!" The guards dropped away from Twilight's side and flared their own wings. She jumped into the air, pumping her wings up and down and scrambling to recall everything she had ever learned about speed flying from Rainbow Dash. There had been nothing about dodging griffons, nor had there been any need to learn evasive maneuvers. All she knew how to do in this situation was flap for her life. Griffons swept past her spherical shield on every side as she laboriously gained altitude, her guards imitating her motions in tense silence. Between the swarm of airborne griffons, Twilight could make out more of the princesses' magic in the distance. If she was able to navigate the treacherous skies and rejoin her fellow alicorns, they would be salvaged. But taking in the enormity of the opposing griffon force from the air caused despair to take root in Twilight's heart. The enemy knew where she needed to go, and griffon after griffon made a point of moving to obscure her view of the princesses' location before resuming their hawk-like circling. She braced herself for the struggle ahead. Twilight winced as an enormous pressure suddenly settled on her forehead. She looked up to see a pair of talons and lion paws perching precariously on top of her protective enchantment. Two beady amber eyes peered down at her, curiously watching their prey while the griffon took experimental jabs at the shield's surface with its beak. Between her exhaustion, misery, and the newfound pressure, cracks snaked across the magenta force field. Twilight's wings faltered, and she began to lose precious altitude. They wouldn't be able to hold out for the princesses at this rate unless something was done. "We'll drive it off," Brisk Blade proposed. Twilight glanced back to see the resolve mixed with trepidation etched in his face. "You will be free fly to the princesses and aid their battle." Twilight considered ordering him to stay. What could they expect if nothing was done? Her force field would collapse, and she would have no time to construct another one. The griffons would be on top of them like crows to a carcass. But if the guards left her protection, they could be slaughtered anyways. She discovered a growing hatred for scenarios with no clear answer. There was no formula, no rhyme or reason for her to use. None of her teachings had dealt with strategy in the middle of a battle. The only resource at her disposal was untested logic concocted in the midst of a terrifying ordeal. "I'll wait for you," she breathed. There were other things she would have said--chiefly, an order not to die, whatever good that might have done--but there simply wasn't enough breath in her lungs to produce the words. Without another sound, the guards dropped through the bottom of Twilight's shield. Their appearance made the griffon take to the air, and Twilight let out a rasping sob of relief as the pressure on her head lifted. Maybe the sight of the guards would be all the incentive the griffon needed to leave them be. Maybe Silver Sheath and Brisk Blade would be able to come back inside the shield, and together they could fight their way towards the explosions of Celestia and Luna's magic. Blood began to run down the front of her force field. Her heart fluttered as she realized they must have been forced to engage the enemy. She kept her eyes fixed on the location of the other princesses, trying to smother her worst-case scenarios in admiration of Celestia and Luna's offensive skill. It had to be griffon blood. It was putting up a good fight, that was the explanation for the streams of crimson staining her shield. Twilight flattened her ears as bird-like screams penetrated her force field. No pony could shriek so convincingly like an eagle, so it had to be a griffon under assault. Perhaps she should call the guards back in before they got too carried away, or the other griffons decided to assist their comrade. She looked up. At first, she thought that maybe she had drifted. All she could see was a swarm of feathers and talons, buzzing with activity like a hive of bees. Individual griffons were indistinguishable among the rest of the flock. Blood rained down in a fine mist from their center, and between the movement of the griffons and the specks of scarlet dotting the top of her shield, Twilight's heart froze. Her guards were being savaged. There was a moment of clarity, the cruelest clarity Twilight had ever known. She had made a mistake. She should have chained her guards inside the force field and handled the griffons herself. Twilight shook as if she were a volcano about to erupt. She wanted to scream, to kick, to hurt something. Her vision blurred, whether from tears or anger, she didn't care. Silver Sheath and Brisk Blade had lives. They had families and a home waiting for them back in Canterlot. They had spoken to her, protected her, told her their names. Their dreams, their aspirations, their world had been stolen from them by the greediest creatures on the planet. The very same creatures that were undoubtedly whetting their violent appetite upon what remained of the two guards. The same creatures who knew no justice, who deserved to be punished, deserved retribution of a godlike nature. The same creatures who were flying free, even as she watched in horror. As a princess of Equestria, she had failed. She had failed from the very start. How could she not have known the world could be so horrible? There was no excuse for her to be unprepared, to be able to watch the death of her loyal guards while she cowered inside a fragile purple shield. But there was no excuse for the world to tolerate such torment in the first place, Twilight screamed. She screamed out of sorrow for the guards and at her own failure, but also at the world. She wanted the world to understand it had betrayed her and everything she had ever known. Her magic roared to life, generating an explosion that rivaled the birth of a small star. She was deaf to noise and blind to the burst of light, only aware that her targets were being incinerated, one by one. She unleashed another blast and felt herself falling through the air, surrounded by the heat of magical energy. Her horn began to let off magic without her command, flinging destructive spells with total abandon into the night. She didn't care what she destroyed in her pursuit, but there would be no griffons left. She would steal from them what they had stolen from her guards. As a princess of Equestria, it was her duty to punish the guilty and avenge the innocent. As a princess of Equestria, it was within her power to destroy those who had harmed her subjects. There would be no Griffon Kingdom after judgement was passed. They couldn't stop her, they wouldn't dare. Only when all the mothers and fledglings turned to ash would she be satisfied. They would never grow up to harm her nation. She would purge them from existence. A shadow fell over Twilight's magic. She felt her horn's aura begin to darken and bubble, and the tears leaking from her eyes turned to vaporous mist. She smiled, a giggle sneaking its way out into the superheated air. Was this what it felt like to be a princess? To be a god, to decide good and evil? She liked it. How could anypony not like holding the world in their hooves, with enough power to annihilate entire civilizations at will? The mere of thought of its destruction would be sufficient to wipe the Griffon Empire from the map, maybe all of history if she concentrated hard enough. She could see it happening before her. The canyons would crumble, inhabitants crushed beneath tons of stone, their bones cursed to never see another dawn. Or maybe their rivers could overflow, sweeping their nests all the way down to Tartarus, where the eggs would be devoured by Cerberus. Perhaps she could organize Equestria's royal army and conquer their territory for her own country. Anything she imagined could become reality. Just one thought... Twilight thought of her dream. The mother griffon had tried to attack her, even though she had done nothing to threaten her young. Let her know how it felt to be persecuted on a whim. Let her know how it felt to have life stolen away from her and her loved ones. Again the image of the bristling mother griffon emerged in Twilight's mind, and she saw that the young had awoken and were quivering with fright. "Because this time," came a sharp voice, "you are a danger to them, Twilight Sparkle." The madness that had gripped Twilight's mind shattered into a thousand fragments. It was as if Twilight had been trapped behind a mirror. The world came back into focus, but it was not the same as when she had left; she wasn't even sure it was the real world at all. After a moment of disorientation, Twilight recognized it as a variation of Celestia's astral plane. The shadows were deeper, with more stars glittering in the blackness. Princess Luna stood regally at its center, looking down at Twilight as if she was a creature to be pitied. Twilight became unpleasantly aware of how Luna towered above her and how the warmth of her eyes had dimmed. "You are lucky I was near," Luna said brusquely. "I am not sure there would have been much of you left had I not stopped you. Or the Griffin Kingdom, for that matter." "Luna," Twilight murmured numbly. She placed a hoof to her forehead, trying to assuage a pounding headache. Where had her power gone? She felt weak as a leaf, all godlike power and delusions stripped from her mind. "I... what happened to the griffons?" Luna looked distastefully down at Twilight. "Dead," she responded. "Every one of them involved in the assault, dead. You made quite sure of that." She forged ahead as Twilight opened her mouth to reply. "For all your moaning about the horrors of the world, you seemed to have no qualms about inflicting them upon the masses yourself." Twilight was silent. There was no happiness, no surge of triumph at the news. She shrunk away from Luna, fixing her eyes on the ground. The death of two guards, no matter how traumatic, was not worth a massacre. She had no justification for her actions at the ready, and Luna knew it. But there was one question that she had to know the answer to. "Why?" she asked. She blinked back tears as the entirety of her horrible experience burned in her mind's eye. The deaths of Silver Sheath and Brisk Blade, the pain of the griffon attack, and the way she had catastrophically lost her senses had been seared into her memories as if by a hot iron brand. "Why did they attack us?" Luna observed Twilight critically, as if debating whether or not she was worthy of an answer. "Self defense," Luna snorted after a period of deliberation, "according to the Equestrian-speaking coward I managed to track down." She hesitated and pawed the air with one hoof. "It was an organized attack, independent of the queen and her delegate. Their kingdom felt threatened having three alicorns inside its borders and the civilians resolved to deal with it themselves." Her voice took on a steely edge. "And perhaps rightfully so, taking into account your foolish lark with dark magic." The astral field seemed to darken with its master's seething fury. Twilight scuttled backwards as the fearsome princess advanced, her volume rising until the astral plane shook with the echoes of the royal Canterlot voice. "Dark magic should never be used in times of emotional turmoil. I know what you were thinking, I was in your dream, and I know you would have wiped the griffon race off the planet before you destroyed yourself. It is one matter to fight in defense of one's self, but another to erase an entire race. I know the thoughts that went through your head, and we are not gods! It is not our place to choose the fate of civilizations and their inhabitants, and to do so will never be anything less than the greatest act of tyranny this world has ever witnessed!" "I-I know..." Twilight fought to keep her voice from breaking. She squirmed as Luna's gaze bore into her, and she only could have been more ashamed of herself if Celestia been the one dealing out the reprimand. "I didn't mean to use dark magic," she protested, trying not to quail under Luna's looming presence. "It just... I saw things. Horrible things that I never want to see again." She closed her eyes to hide her tears. "The griffons murdered them, Luna. I... I've never known sorrow like that before. I never knew it existed. It shouldn't exist." A thousand more words seemed to swell in Luna's lungs, but she deflated before they could form on her tongue. "No," she muttered, "I will leave the rest to my sister." Her silver hoofshoes clicked against the transparent earth as she walked closer to Twilight. "But there is something you must learn." She placed one hoof under Twilight's chin and lifted her muzzle. Despite every urge to turn away, Twilight met Luna's fiery eyes. She grasped for anything she could say to redeem herself, but staring into Luna's narrow pupils, she saw very little opportunity for immediate forgiveness. "You are going to learn what it truly means to be a princess of Equestria, Twilight Sparkle, and I do not expect it will please you." > Chapter 3 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- No matter how Twilight fought to hold Luna's astral plane in focus, she found herself falling into a deep void of half-awareness. Luna's horn was glowing as the plane darkened around her, and the silver light was the last thing Twilight focused upon before she could no longer sustain her sight. Foggy visions ensued, but she could not muster the brainpower to comprehend them. One moment she was staring into the depths of a feral black pupil; the next, a sky stained red. The blood of her guards leaked across the horizon in rivulets, producing light that pulsed faintly with their dying heartbeats. White wings flashed near the edge of her vision, but Twilight only produced a meager groan despite the severity of her terror. Mercifully, she fell into a pit of blackness, her slumber broken only by a gentle swaying beneath her back. Twilight didn't remember waking up. She wasn't sure how many days had passed before she became aware of the pillow over her head and the covers pulled over her ears. The air entering her nostrils was hot and stuffy, and her limbs frozen where they were curled beneath her. Her head pounded as if a thousand hooves thundered inside her skull. For one blissful moment, she could not recall why she would be in such a position, in a bed that was not her own at the library. The pillow tumbled to the side as Twilight strained to lift her head. Where was she? Where was Luna? Twilight growled in frustration as her muscles adamantly resisted her efforts to move. She twisted her head around and squinted, the surrounding gloom indistinguishable from the backs of her eyelids. She didn't seem to be in Luna's astral plane, but she hadn't the foggiest notion of where she had ended up. A shiver ran up her spine. Had she gone blind? Was it simply the absolute darkness of the night hindering her sight? Was there a talon hovering in front of her nose, prepared to slice her muzzle in half? Did she hear something breathing? Not until Twilight strained her senses for any sign of life did she notice it was only her own hyperventilation. Her relief turned to sickening nausea, and she buried her head in the cushy depths of her mattress with a miserable moan. Twilight considered sealing her eyes closed and sleeping for the rest of eternity. She could escape the visions that would haunt her every waking hour in her dreams. There had to be a spell for long-lasting sleep. She could cast it over and over again, until the memories she dreaded had been buried under a lifetime worth of fantasies. She would never have to face Luna or Celestia, or the families of Brisk Blade and Silver Sheath. She would make the guards' sacrifice worthless to Equestria. With a colossal heave, Twilight rolled over the edge of her bed. She hit a marble floor on her side with a jolt, causing her limbs to unfreeze and her spine to crack back into alignment. The impact only worsened her headache, but she had to move before her resolve wavered. The cool marble pressing up against her skin assuaged most of her fears about sleeping out in the wilderness with any manner of wild animals prowling around her, but the darkness pressing on her eyes prevented Twilight from achieving total peace. Scrunching up her muzzle in preparation for what she predicted would be a splitting migraine, Twilight attempted to light her horn. It fizzed halfheartedly, producing a dim glow that reached only to the tip of Twilight's muzzle. She ground her teeth as her head protested against the slight magical exertion. Her magical reserves were still exhausted after her dance with dark magic, similar to a muscle that had been overworked during a long run. But the longer Twilight fought against the pain, the more it relented. Though she could not call forth more than a faint glimmer of light, the subsiding of her cruel headache came as a great relief. Pain lanced through her legs as Twilight staggered and swayed onto four hooves. Her haunches burned as if griffon claws were still fastened in the flesh, even as Twilight shifted most of her weight to her forelegs. Maybe she still had the puncture wounds from her assailant, or her rump had taken the brunt of her fall from the sky. She leaned against the side of the bed, taking strained breaths as her heart pumped a fervent rhythm against her ribs. Just how badly did I hurt myself? Twilight's botched haunches were putting forward their best efforts to foil any chance of simply walking carefully across the floor in search of a light. She hobbled around the edge of the bed, teetering from left to right as she worked to spare her hind legs from holding her weight. There had to be a window or lamp nearby she could use to examine her injuries and surroundings. As she rounded the second corner of the bed, her hoof, lifted in mid-step, brushed against something thick and velvety. Hopes rising, Twilight wobbled away from the safety of the bedside and nudged the fabric she hoped to be a curtain aside with her muzzle. Light slanted in a golden band across part of a marble wall and floor. It had been so long since she'd seen sunlight, Twilight froze just to ogle the nearly forgotten phenomenon. For what could have been days, her life had been nothing but one episode of blackness after the next. Now the sun was shining in, banishing both the blackness of the room and the apparitions of rampaging griffons at the corner of her eyes. Eager to see the sky that had bequeathed her with such a gift, Twilight scooted through the side of the curtain and peered through a small, circular window. Despite nearly being blinded by the brilliance of the sun's rays, the first sincere smile in far too long graced Twilight's worn countenance. It was Canterlot. Twilight pressed her nose up against the window and peered down at the majestic capitol city. From high up in one of Canterlot Castle's towers, she had an unobstructed view of every fraction of the citizen's lives. Though her vision was smeared from exhaustion, she could make out foals cavorting about as their mothers led them through the cobblestone streets and nobles stopping to converse before a doorway to a fancy meeting place. It was Canterlot as usual, but at that moment there was nothing more amazing in the entirety of Equestria. The sheer normality of the scurrying ponies far below seemed to defy the existence of such horrible things as murder or griffon assaults. Whereas before Twilight's terrible memories had swathed her mind in an impenetrable fog of despair, now they were nearly surreal, like a bad dream. Then again, the bile welling in her throat was quite real. Hurriedly, Twilight shoved the window with her forelegs, sparing a moment to bless the pony who had left it unlocked. It smacked against the side of the tower and the single glass pane shattered, shards cascading down the side of the tower onto the lawns below, but Twilight was too preoccupied coughing up the scarce contents of her stomach to care. She curled over the windowsill, drinking in the sweet, fresh air to rid her mouth of the vile taste. A cool wind, heralding coming rain, stirred the heavy curtains draped across her back. Somehow, despite an empty stomach and a revolting stench permeating her nose, Twilight was able to beam at the cloudy sky. Being alive, so decidedly alive in the face of an attempt on her life, was an accomplishment that deserved nothing if not celebration. If only her guards were alive to share in her joy. Twilight rested her head on the windowsill and closed her eyes. Wind whisked through her ruffled mane, the smell of far-off rain pervading her nostrils. It was a sensation she had experienced countless times before, but never again would she take such simple pleasures for granted. A life free of murder and blood was the greatest gift she could ever ask for. I never want to see those things again. She would have been content to sit in front of the window forever if not for the nagging curiosity blooming in the back of her mind. Luna had promised to tell her the meaning of being a princess, but Twilight could not fathom why. The title of princess was known across all of Equestria; it was an honor bestowed upon those deemed worthy of guiding ponykind along the path of harmony. There was no mystery behind it, no need for elaboration. What was it Luna intended to say? Why did she expect Twilight to be displeased with the answer? Slowly, Twilight drew away from her view of Canterlot. There would be time to relish in the glory of life after her hunger for knowledge had been sated. She ducked out from under the thick curtains, carefully extending her magical grasp to pull them aside. The pain in her horn hit with far less intensity than before, allowing her to exert a mundane level of magical strength. She might not be fighting off Ursa Minors any time soon, let alone drawing upon every scrap of her power to eradicate an entire race, but she could navigate the castle. Aided by the light flooding the room, Twilight checked her haunches. She cringed at the scabby red cuts crisscrossing her cutie mark--her shoddy healing job had left behind far more remnants that she would have liked. Tentatively, she layered her magic over the wounds. She pulled the skin back together over the cuts, taking extra care to ensure there would be as little scarring as possible. Despite her best efforts, thin lines ran through parts of her purple star. It was the smallest casualty of the griffon attack yet, but Twilight still had to bite back her disappointment. It doesn't matter as long as I can walk. She stretched one hind leg, then the other. The pain was gone. She looked up at the scarcely furnished room, locating an oaken door opposite the window. She trotted past the bed and spared a glance at the barren writing desk set near the wall. The notion of writing a letter to her friends was tempting, but Twilight wasn't sure how to phrase her feelings. Did her friends even know about things like murder? Would she be strong enough to write an account of the attack without the quill sliding from her grasp? After I meet with the princesses, I'll tell them, Twilight thought. Somehow. Twilight sensed out the door's lock with her magic, pleasantly surprised when it swung open after some slight finagling. If she didn't run into any inquisitive castle staff on her way to the princesses, it would be an easy walk. As Twilight stepped out into the hallway, the clicking of her hooves against marble echoing in the arched ceiling above, she wondered where to search for the princesses first. It wouldn't hurt to check their private quarters or--her eyes lit up--the library, in case they were taking some leisure time. But what sort of rulers would be relaxing among the repercussions of a griffon assault? If Celestia and Luna weren't discussing the implications of the attack in earnest, Twilight wasn't sure where they'd be. The library would have to wait, she decided. Her hooves sank into the deep red rug that ran down the center of the hall. She would head towards the conference room first. Twilight picked up her hooves until she was trotting briskly down the hallway. Closed doors passed by on either side, denoting her present location as the guest wing. She had spent enough time in Canterlot Castle to plot out a mental path to the conference room. There would be a few twists and turns, but she wasn't too far away. If luck was on her side--a small miracle in itself--she would be meeting the princesses in minutes. A few castle servants passed her by along the way, their usual salutations replaced with concerned murmurs and rumblings. Guards saluted and stood to attention, calling out invitations for orders, but Twilight quickly averted her eyes when she spotted golden armor gleaming around a corner. She hurried on, focusing entirely on the coming meeting and drowning out the noises around her with the whirring of her mental gears. She was going to learn what it meant to be a princess, but also bring a plethora of her own questions to the table. Out of all her queries, one sprung to the fore of her thoughts. Will I ever see those things again? Twilight had seen Canterlot under siege, received a glimpse of slavery under Sombra's rule, been victim to Discord's torments. Nothing compared to witnessing the brutality of the griffons. For all their malicious intents, none of her previous foes had gone to such dreadful lengths to achieve their goals. She had never contemplated the notion that those enemies had perhaps been holding back or practicing mercy--she had hardly known about the existence of murder, so how could she guess her opponents were capable of anything worse? Twilight almost ran face-first into the enormous conference doors. She ground to a halt in front of a pair of towering whitewashed doors, her nose inches from a painful collision. She tripped over hooves as she backed away, spluttering a muffled curse as her rump hit the ground. There were no civilians around to behold her graceless fall, but she hastened to regain her composure. Considering the gravity of the upcoming conversation, she couldn't appear juvenile in front of her elders. She would have to scrounge up every ounce of royal elegance she possessed, assuming it hadn't been frightened out of her by the griffons. Twilight raised one hoof to her chest and inhaled deeply, expanding her chest. As she blew out her air, she envisioned pushing all her insecurities away with her hoof. For a moment, her mind stilled. She rose to her hooves and approached the great doors, one step at a time. All that remained was to knock, and her questions would be resolved. Surely the princesses would be able to help her overcome the terrible memories. Everything was going to be fine, just fine. Swallowing back her anxiety, Twilight gave the door three short raps. The doors remained firmly closed. Her heart drumming a frantic beat against her chest, Twilight cleared her throat. Perhaps she wasn't the first pony to come knocking, and the princesses had grown accustomed to ignoring visitors. "It's me," she called, her voice coming out as a gritty rasp. She coughed as the words grated against the back of her throat and spat out part of a scab that had jumped into her mouth. It must be from the screaming. When her coughing subsided, Twilight pricked her ears to listen for hoof steps. She leaned close to the door, hoping she wasn't mistaken in her assumption that the princesses were present. The silence stretched out, broken only by Twilight's short breaths. Her impatience swelled with each passing second, and she raised her hoof in preparation to give the doors an agitated pounding. Just as Twilight struck out, the doors swung inwards, surrounded by a glistening sunny aura. Twilight teetered forward, the gold-clad hoof pressing against her chest the only thing that prevented her from falling flat. Her head jerked up, her eyes quickly passing over the crimson-stained neck brace and tired smile to lock with the weary gaze of Celestia. "Twilight," Celestia said warmly, her dulled expression brightening like the sky at dawn. "Princess," Twilight breathed. All fantasies of meeting the princesses with any amount of maturity and eloquence perished at the sight of Celestia. Without thinking, Twilight flung her hooves around Celestia and pressed her muzzle against her mentor's neck. She clung to Celestia like the terrified filly she had become, her emotions bubbling over into incoherent attempts to put forth the questions that stalked her steps. She tried to ask about the Griffon Kingdom, about what it meant to be a princess, about how in the name of Equestria murder was allowed to exist, but only managed to trip over her words in the midst of her fervor. Celestia wrapped her wings around Twilight in a feathery embrace, stroking her student's shaking back with one wing tip. Gently, Celestia pried Twilight's vicelike grip away from her neck, and Twilight became aware of her hooves being guided deeper into a dim room. Her stream of desperate sounds faded, but she continued to press close to Celestia, taking comfort from the warmth of her feathers and fur. Not even the darkness of the room could unnerve her now. No griffons could snatch her away if she stayed by Celestia's side. "Are you ready?" Celestia asked quietly. Twilight nodded. "I'm staying next to you." Celestia's wings withdrew from Twilight's vision, and she found they were standing in the middle of the princesses' conference hall. Unlike any other occasion, when the sun would be shining through the one massive window on the far end of the room, the space was now cloaked in gloom. Tapestries decorated the walls, their enchanted golden trim glittering despite the lack of light. An enormous round table lay before Twilight, its oaken surface illuminated only by the green fire of two softly glowing candles. Piles of parchment and broken quills littered the table, remnants of what were once neatly organized debate supplies. On the side opposite Twilight, face cast in an emerald light by a nearby candle, Luna furiously ran a black quill across a piece of parchment. There was a snap as the tip of Luna's quill shattered. With a violent snort of frustration, Luna plucked a feather from one balding wing and scribbled on. "I," she fumed, "do not understand the complications of casting justice upon those who are clearly deserving of it. If there is anything I am missing"--another snap rang out, and Luna flung the quill into the darkness around the edge of the room--"I beg that you enlighten me posthaste, sister!" Celestia's golden magic grasped the parchment and slid it across the table. She sank into a sitting position, and Twilight hurried to mirror her movement. Twilight caught a glimpse of Luna's frantic, swooping hoofwriting before Celestia rolled the message into a scroll and set it to the side. "I will handle the queen," Celestia said calmly. "But first, please say hello to my most faithful student and junior. Kindly, if you will," she added. Luna looked up and froze. Her eyes went from Twilight to Celestia, then back again. She inclined her head with apparent reluctance. "Greetings," she said stiffly. Her horn sparked, and a folded letter snapped open in front of her muzzle, concealing her countenance. "We--I am... pleased to see you have recovered." Twilight's good mood deflated under Luna's curt manner. She must still be mad at me. "I will be writing a response to that particular message," Celestia pointed out. One ear twitched at Luna's conduct, but she offered no objection. "There's no need for you to read it again." Twilight imagined a red tinge creeping into Luna's cheeks as she passed the letter across the table. Twilight leaned in closer to Celestia, the dragonfire candle shedding its light across the short message. "From the Griffon Kingdom?" she guessed tentatively. "Yes." Celestia smoothed out the parchment so Twilight could behold its contents. "The queen has sent more messages than I care to count, at this point. Can you read Griffonese?" A chill crawled down Twilight's spine. She had studied the writing of the griffons in preparation for her diplomatic meeting and attained moderate fluency, but she found herself hesitant to translate the letter. What if the queen had said something about her personally, or blamed her for the tragic events? Of course she would be mentioned; she had massacred an entire flock of the queen's subjects. That, if nothing else, would ensure she had a role in the queen's messages. Twilight drew in a shuddering breath. "I can," she affirmed. "I just..." Celestia levitated a white quill over a blank sheet of parchment. "I understand." She began to write, her quill scratching out the sharp edges of Griffonese letters. "But if you are to take part in this debate, reading letters will be the smallest of your challenges. If you can read it, I advise that you do." It can't be as hard as fighting off griffons. Swallowing back her anxiety, Twilight turned her eyes to the message. The further Twilight traveled down the message, the clearer it became that the tone was not one of a friendly political relation. Occasionally there was a complex word Twilight could not interpret, or an elaborate metaphor that she failed to comprehend, but she unfortunately grasped the gist of the letter. The queen understood that her griffons had been the first to attack, but also knew flocks of her griffons had been killed in retaliation for the death of two guards. With a flickering pulse of relief, Twilight realized Celestia and Luna must have avoided mentioning just how far Twilight had considered taking her retribution. From what she could glean about the queen's disposition, Twilight doubted there would be any diplomatic exchanges had the Griffon Kingdom been enlightened to the scope of her power. "We pleaded self defense," Celestia explained as Twilight looked away from the letter, "but the queen insists that her griffons acted upon the same drive. It's all we can do to try to appease her." Celestia folded her finished message and levitated it into the dragonfire candle. The fire licked up the parchment until the letter was entirely consumed, vanishing without a trace of ash. The fire hissed in satisfaction, spitting one emerald ember into the air. "I'm sorry," Twilight whispered. Guilt washed over her, swamping her from head to tail. "I shouldn't have hurt them." One of Celestia's wings draped over Twilight's shoulders. "You would have died had you not," Celestia said firmly. "The griffons knew we were a peaceful nation and were foals to think we would ever threaten them." "But I did," Twilight protested. Most of the memories of her delusions under the influence of dark magic had grown vague, but the desire to eviscerate each and every griffon from the face of history was still fresh in her mind. She felt Luna's gaze fixed in her direction. "If the griffons were attacking as a preliminary measure, they were right. I-I wouldn't have hesitated--I didn't hesitate to hurt their entire race badly, so, so badly." Celestia paused. The candles fluttered, shedding light on her small frown. "This is true," she admitted, "only because the griffons initiated the attack." When Twilight did not respond, Celestia added, "In all honesty, it was a mistake of ours to assume the griffons' fear of our power would hold them back from an open assault as it had in the past. We pushed it too far by bringing a third member to their nests, and that is our fault alone." Twilight perked up, straightening her slouched posture. "So I wasn't wrong to...?" she asked, glancing at Luna. "It was improper to consider eviscerating an entire race for the crimes of a few," Luna said quickly. "I trust we agree on that, sister?" Celestia dipped her head. "Yes," she sighed. "It was. But the perpetrators were fully aware of the atrocity they were committing, and the retaliation you were able to mete out was justified. I presume we agree on that, of all things," she said pointedly. Luna shifted awkwardly. "I will not apologize," she huffed. With visible effort, she met Twilight's gaze. "You strayed close to a path I am... far too familiar with, Twilight Sparkle. A shadow of the monster that haunts me has touched you, and I find myself unable to forgive your welcoming, even inviting of it." Despite Luna's stoic expression, her voice dropped. "Please... never again dance with dark magic. We take to it too quickly, too easily. Dangerously so." A shadow that haunts her? Twilight thought. She shrank closer to Celestia's side. Is Luna saying I could have fallen to another Nightmare Moon? It had never crossed Twilight's mind before. For all her pondering and ruminating over the events of that night, never once had she considered that she might have been wholly corrupted by the dark magic. It was no wonder Luna had been so curt with her--Luna, of all ponies, would be the most disturbed by the possibility of the Nightmare's resurgence. "I guess I should thank you for stopping me," Twilight said, a tremor of relief running down her legs. The sentiment was soon overtaken by a hint of indignation. "But you could've just told me why you were mad instead of yelling at me." Luna nodded, the tension in her muscles slowly releasing. She held Twilight's gaze more easily, offering a small smile. "I suppose I could have." There was still an edge to her voice, but it had reverted back to a familiar teasing nature. Progress, Twilight thought. Not quite forgiveness, but progress. She flashed a grin that had been held back by lingering bitterness, her mood warmed by being back in Luna's relative favor. Luna cleared her throat and carried on in a more brusque manner. "That is all I have to say regarding that subject, for there is another I assume you are here to discuss." What it means to be a princess. Twilight felt a pang of excitement, followed by a sinking sensation of dread. Celestia tensed beside her, drawing her wing protectively around Twilight. "I want to know what it means to be a princess," Twilight affirmed. She drew strength from Celestia's presence, and raised her voice to project across the room. "But I have something to say first." Her mind flew back to the night of the attack. She could still pick out every scale on the griffons' talons and see the curves of their beaks as they snapped before her shield, cawing and shrieking as she fought to push through their ranks. Their feral eyes were bright with murderous intentions, intentions that would be fulfilled in ways Twilight never envisioned. Ways she never wanted to see again. There was no use dancing around her feelings. "I don't want to see murder again," Twilight said flatly. Her mental eye focused on the view of Canterlot. All those ponies were happy, going about their lives with unbridled cheer and alacrity spurring their hooves. It was the life Twilight had once lived and her heart so desperately yearned to reclaim. "It doesn't exist in Equestria, and it shouldn't exist in the world. I never want to go back to the Griffon Empire, or set hoof outside our borders ever again. I know it's part of my princess duties to maintain political relations," she acknowledged. "But I don't want to live with these fears hanging over me. I can't." The mere notion of returning to the Griffon Kingdom for any purpose was enough to make Twilight's voice crack. She wondered how pitiable she sounded, practically begging to never leave the safety of home again in spite of her duty's requirements. She expected a condescending rebuke from Luna, or at least words of motherly guidance from Celestia, and turned her eyes to her mentor when neither came. Only a long, contemplative silence followed her plea. "There is a reason such horrors do not manifest in Equestria," Celestia said slowly. "Because this is a harmonious nation," Twilight pointed out impatiently. "Of course there wouldn't be, I just want to know if being princess means I have to see--" "Since your awakening, have you wondered why there was hardly a mention of murder in your books?" Luna interjected. Her neck stretched further across the table, green light illuminating the anticipation on her face. "This has everything to do with being a princess, and I would advise you set aside your other concerns and participate in this discussion. Humor us." Taken aback, Twilight openly gaped at Luna. "Fine," she huffed. "I can't say I have wondered that, no." "Take a moment and do so, if you would." Just what does this have to do with being a princess? At Celestia's encouraging nudge, Twilight reluctantly dove into her imaginary archives. She'd read more books than she cared to count in her lifetime, and only one or two had brought up the subject of murder. She furrowed her brow and drudged up memories of those scarce accounts, putting them through renewed scrutiny. Through every record, murder was portrayed in a barbaric light, a rudimentary practice that had been discarded as harmony united morals around the world. The deeper Twilight sank into her reverie, the more a single fact stood out. She frowned, trying to make sense of her epiphany. She'd never had any reason to question the legitimacy of her books before, but her frown continued to deepen as she tried to match the words of the books to the actuality of her experience. No matter how she rotated her facts, or stepped into a different perspective, they simply did not fit. "I've read a lot of books on foreign nations," Twilight mused. "None of them were ever described as hostile. Proud, arrogant sometimes, maybe eccentric, but never inclined to attack." She paused. "Was it because the authors didn't know?" she prompted, looking from Celestia's uneasy grimace to Luna's satisfied visage. Upon receiving no reply, her brow creased. "But they were experts in their fields. These were books in the Canterlot's political archives. So why didn't they say anything about the griffons or any nation being aggressive? Why didn't I know the griffons were capable of everything they did, even though I did so much research? Why were you the only ones who knew the griffons were hostile?" How didn't I think about this before? "Your naivete is a sign of... success, Twilight." Celestia's intonation was drawn out, hesitant. "Success in one facet of our duties." Twilight blinked and raised one hoof to rub her ears vigorously. She swiveled them towards Celestia, pricking them up to properly catch every syllable out of her mentor's mouth. It seemed her ears were prone to sporadic malfunctions after the overload of dark magic. "I didn't hear that right." "Twilight, you have never misinterpreted any of my lectures, even when you were a filly falling asleep at her desk. You heard correctly." "No." Twilight shook her head. "I thought you said it was a success--" "She did," Luna cut in. She sat back on her haunches, her muzzle drawing away from the light of her candle and into the shadows. "The fact that you were unable to unearth the existence of present-day murder despite being so close to a princess is nothing less than the greatest proof of our triumph." Silver energy gathered around her horn as one black quill jumped into the air, lazily tracing imaginary loops in the air before her. "Perhaps it was even the greatest test of our methods." "Your methods?" Twilight gawked first at Luna, then at Celestia. She grasped for a suitable expression of her incredulity, but only managed to splutter helplessly as her tongue betrayed her. Perhaps her ears really were on the fritz. How could her ignorance be a cause for celebration? How could the inaccuracy of her books be acceptable, or encouraged, or positive in any way? How was it not a national crisis? All those books labeled as comprehensive guides to the behavioral patterns of neighboring nations were lying. The thought of a book in the official Canterlot archives containing falsehoods was so alien, Twilight wasn't sure whether to laugh or weep. Wait--their methods? Celestia and Luna had taken part in this literary disaster? They couldn't. The princesses were the leaders of harmony; they would be the last ponies to undermine it with lies. She was just jumping to conclusions. Her nerves were already on edge, so of course she would be jittery and prone to hasty judgement. Luna had not meant to imply that she and Celestia had a hoof in such a scheme. It simply wouldn't make sense. There was another layer to her words, one which had flown straight over Twilight's head. "We agreed I would handle this conversation," Celestia said sharply. The quill darted near Luna's muzzle and she proceeded to absentmindedly nibble on the tip. "My apologies," she muttered. "I find these proceedings marvelously fascinating, so forgive me if I dare participate. Continue." Twilight felt Celestia's chest deflate with a long, exasperated exhalation. She sent up a prayer that the next words from Celestia's muzzle would assuage her unfounded suspicions and get straight to the point. Anything to stop the uneasy speculation bounding through her thoughts. "You know that one part of our duties is to protect our subjects," Celestia went on. The serenity of her voice had a delicate lilt, like a thin sheet of ice that would take only a slight tap to shatter. Beside her, Twilight could feel the pulsing of Celestia's heart. "It is common knowledge among the population that above all, the safety of our ponies is paramount. Perhaps of even greater importance than following the six virtues of harmony." Twilight's heart sped up and matched Celestia's beat for beat. Her mentor's anxiety tainted the air, spreading like a plague through the rest of Twilight's being. "What is that supposed to mean?" Twilight demanded. She slipped out from under Celestia's wing, making no attempt to correct her slack-jawed expression. "Harmony is the most important thing in all of Equestria--friendship, harmony, it's what makes us who we are!" Celestia tucked in her wing, casting Twilight an injured glance, but made no move to rise from her seat at the table. "Harmony does not spring naturally from the heart of any living creature." "But there's no murder in Equestria," Twilight insisted. Her feathers bristled against her skin. "If it doesn't come naturally to ponies, why isn't everypony acting like griffons?" Celestia's fragile persona of calm faltered. By the light of the dragonfire candle, Twilight could see the feathers ruffle on the princess' wings and the shadow fall across her eyes. The lack of an immediate response confirmed Twilight's fears that this was going to be a difficult topic to tackle. Only during the hardest of emotional situations would Celestia withhold an immediate reply to her student's queries. She doesn't want to tell me what it means to be a princess. When Celestia failed to utter a sound, Luna removed the quill from her muzzle and gave Twilight a withering stare. "Tell me, my sister's genius student. You are a dedicated scholar and have found only passing mention of murder, always portrayed with a negative connotation. You were appalled to find it still existed today, despite boasting your own repertoire of unpleasant experiences. What are the chances that the rest of the citizens have the slightest inkling that such horrors manifest in reality, let alone their potential to be agents of it?" "Small," Twilight conceded. "But what is this about forgoing harmony and being a--" "We protect our ponies from themselves," Luna said bluntly. Celestia let out a strangled gasp, but Luna's eyes hardly flicked in her direction before she continued. "Mere knowledge of murder plants the seeds of disharmony, so we opted to simply erase it from society as wholly as possible. You could say it is a facet of our duties to shield our subjects from this knowledge." Twilight snorted in derision. "That's not true." She looked to Celestia for reassurance. "Tell me that's not true." Celestia remained silent. "Please." Twilight's voice wavered. I don't want to believe it. No response from either princess was forthcoming, and that was all the evidence Twilight needed. However much Twilight wished that her ears were malfunctioning, she could pretend no longer. The princesses had painted a false picture of the world for their subjects. Perhaps even worse, they were the cause of the dreadful inaccuracies pervading her books. "You've lied," Twilight whispered. She took an unsteady pace back towards the door. "You've lied." Celestia rose from her position at the table. "Twilight, I didn't intend for it to go this way--" "So is this what it means to be a princess? To become a part of this scheme?" Twilight's quick breaths rasped in her lungs. It was the unthinkable, the unimaginable. The princesses had betrayed harmony and perpetrated a lie. This grand ruse was the reason Twilight had been caught off guard by the griffons. This ruse was the reason she had been unable to protect her guards. One more stitch of her life's fabric was undone. Before her eyes, Twilight's perfect world was unraveling thread by painful thread. Celestia, the queen deserving of unfathomable reverence, was swallowed up by a maw of doubt and distrust. In her place stood Celestia the liar, the pony who had led her beloved subjects along a path of trickery, and the teacher who could smile as she fooled her most faithful student. Luna was no better, casually chewing on her quill as she watched the proceedings with a deceptive eye. Twilight could no longer depend on her perceptions of reality. Her eyes were prone to error, her judgement easily manipulated. Her legs trembled and the ground dipped under her hooves, as if she were upon a boat that was plunging down the crest of an enormous wave. "There is more to our purpose than simple deception," Celestia retorted, her voice tense. "Please, Twilight--if you're going to take this badly, we can't have this discussion here." "If I'm going to take it badly?" Twilight's volume rose. She was shouting, but she didn't care. Her disbelief spilled freely from her muzzle, and she made no attempt to stem the flow. "If I don't take the fact that the teacher I respected has lied to me and my friends about the world badly, then what am I? I thought that you..." Twilight's outburst faded as she fought back frustrated tears. "I thought you'd never lie to us." The pain on Celestia's face became increasingly pronounced with each passing word. "I never meant for this to upset you." Twilight slammed her hoof against the floor. The sound reverberated through the entire chamber, and Twilight only felt an ounce of guilt as Celestia flinched. "I don't see how you could think it wouldn't upset me." Celestia strode towards Twilight, her expression unreadable as her eyes fixed on the floor. Twilight bristled as Celestia drew near, simultaneously bracing for flight and preparing to be wrapped in another warm hug. Her hopes were split in two--should she welcome Celestia's comfort, or reject her mentor's approach? What was she supposed to do when the one pony she admired above all proved unworthy of a sliver of trust? Twilight wasn't sure whether to be relieved or terribly disappointed as Celestia walked right past her. Perplexed, she turned around to see a golden aura encompassing the enormous doors. The doors glided open without so much as a squeak, allowing light from the outside to pour into the dim room. Twilight squinted against the flood of illumination and raised one hoof to shield her eyes. "Luna," Celestia said, "stay here and answer any messages from the Griffon Kingdom. Do not provoke the queen." There was the ruffle of wrinkled papers and the tap of a quill tip against parchment. "I wish you luck, sister," Luna responded promptly. "Should you need me--" "You've done enough," Celestia sighed. There was no edge to her tone, but the thinly veiled disappointment shone in stark contrast to her normal sincerity. "Just don't do anything more." Luna fell into a sullen silence, broken only by the quiet scratching of a quill. "Twilight, follow me to the gardens." Celestia turned, a mask of fabricated calm upon her muzzle. "We can talk more once we're there." Two options presented themselves before Twilight: try to escape some of the most powerful creatures in Equestria, or play the role of obedient subject and trot along in Celestia's wake. By normal standards, the choice would be obvious. Now, with her core perceptions of reality cast in doubt, Twilight stood rooted between two conflicting emotions. However much Celestia had trampled on the faith of her subjects, the familiar kindness of her gaze beckoned Twilight closer. But how could she place her trust in Celestia when the princess had conspired against knowledge itself? "I want to trust you," Twilight murmured, "but I can't." She took a step towards Celestia, then nodded towards the hall. Celestia ambled out into the light, her stature slumped and head bowed. "I shouldn't have expected anything else."