> Days Asleep > by daidoro > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > An Evening of Normality > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gently, hesitant as the wind's breath upon a flower, the last vestiges of the sunset slipped beneath the horizon. Around and above, the pitch-blue and blackness of night eagerly filled the emptiness left by the final, retreating tendrils of crimson. Together with a barely-perceptible dusting of stars just beginning to twinkle through the umbra, and a windswept masterwork of clouds on the horizon, it was as beautiful a sunset as I had learned to sculpt, after years and years of dilligent practice. It was poetry, writ in photons and hydrogen backscatter. 'Beautiful' didn't do the sight justice. It was gorgeous. It was artwork. "Yo dude I'm fuckin' done here, your turn." I said, lowering my horn and turning away from the balcony. "Fuckin' finally, man. My flank was getting sore," my brother replied, with a dry grin. The Prince of Night clambered to his hooves and took my place on the balcony as I lounged behind, shifting on the smooth marble. This high aloft, held in a delicate cradle by the tallest and most decorated of Canterlot's spires, the very air seemed breathless. From some unknown force, be it the castle's deep magic, the mountain's specific geography, or our own hyperdense magical footprints, the air currents here were always deathly still. In only a brief few minutes, the sky had deepened and darkened, replacing my sunset's radiance with all the dark splendor of evening. Sometimes we'd cooperate to string together a lengthier twilight, just to enjoy the in-between. "So, like, I wasn't gonna say anything, but you totally forgot the moon." My brother turned his head just enough for an unamused glare in my direction, before concentrating again on the sky before us. With just as much care and attention as my sun, the argent slivers of moonlight began to reach skyward, as the moon crested the horizon to take its place in the heavens. "Stars, you're such a pain in the ass," he said, stepping back and giving a critical look over his work. "That was totes uncalled for, some of my friends are asses," I snickered, kicking to my hooves and joining my co-ruler in a lazy walk back to the stairs. "Dude, all of your friends are asses," he replied, and we chuckled on our way back to the palace proper. "Aight, I'm gonna find a drink, then finish some ruling-the-world type of shit, then go to bed," I announced when we arrived. We were still high in the castle's reaches, beyond the point where any but our personal guard would tread. Despite our lack of company, the hallway didn't seem all that empty. It was decorated with several for-show alcoves and stained-glass windows. Perhaps it was a little cluttered? The exact reason could be figured out by an interior designer; all I knew was that to feel properly powerful after lowering the sun, I wanted to stride dramatically into an empty corridor. "Maybe save the drink for after you do some ruling-the-world shit?" My brother asked, raising an exasperated eyebrow. He'd long since given up trying to stop me from drinking, anyway. Not like it mattered, what with the whole 'immortal incarnation of abstract heavenly bodies' thing. In fact, I'd need to come up with some title for whoever invented the Maretini. "If I never drank and legislated at the same time, literally nothing would get done around here," I sniffed. "If we're to have a repeat of the candy-corn incident, that may be a good thing," the other alicorn pointed out, as we made our way further down toward the throne room, where we normally parted ways to go about our separate schedules. Somewhere in the last few steps, my brother had retrieved a cup of coffee from its hiding place, holding it in the deep blue grasp of his magic as we walked. He'd just woken up, of course, and I only had a scant few hours before a seneschal began pestering me about my curfew. Time enough to wrap up what had been a fairly uneventful day, and begin preparations for the next. "Oh, that reminds me. Pones are starting to talk about the next Gala, which is like. Next month, or whatever? I was thinking something along the lines of 'laser-tag rave' for the theme." I frowned, trying both to recall the Gala's precise date and also remember if laser-tag raves had been done as a theme in any previous years. "Yeah, cool. Maybe afterward we can start a trend of all the nobles wearing those fuckin' vests," my brother replied. I relaxed slightly; his memory had always been better, and he'd remember if we'd had a laser-tag rave gala before. "Word, that'd be hilarious. Anyway, don't vaporize anything or start any wars while I'm asleep," I said. We bumped hooves cooly, as always, before turning away to go about business. "You know, technically, we're just as likely to get involved in a war during the night as we are during the day," he called from behind me. "Maybe even more likely, given that our political enemies are largely predatory and nocturnal-" "Fuckin' hell, bro. A Prince of the Night is supposed to terrify mortal ponies and shit. How the hell are you gonna inflict fear when you're all spoutin' nerdy shit?" I called back, not turning around. The first of the guards, down at the end of the hall, didn't even react to the display. Doubtless the more experienced regiments were used to it by now. Despite my supernaturally keen senses, I couldn't fully hear my brother's hollered rebuttal, but I knew from experience we'd continue shouting at each other regardless, until we were on opposite sides of the castle and everypony else was looking distinctly confused. Anyway. Now that the normal nonsense was out of the way... I had a mission. > A Night of Casuality > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Canterlot was no stranger to my 'missions,' of course. A pony had to find ways to distract themselves from the tribulations of governance, after all. A discerning eye might even be able to detect many of these distractions of mine, or at least the resulting fallout, throughout Equestria's many history books. In fact, I'd taken precautions to ensure a specific purple unicorn remained in the dark about several of them, so to speak. It was a different unicorn, however, who accompanied me now as I strolled through the Castle's marble corridors by night. The famous Still Patience had been recognized for her unshakable demeanor well before her employment as a royal seneschal, with Canterlot's elite clamoring for her services in everything from organizing events to common secretary work. It had taken scarcely five minutes for me to provoke a rather impressive outburst from the soft-spoken mare, having assumed her name was intended as 'Still Patients' and commending her for having the foresight to avoid a career in medicine. After hiring her as an apology, her vengeance was made apparent in that to this very day she remained my most indispensable employee in the Castle. "How progresses the School for Gifted Unicorns?" I asked, as Patience diligently paged through her ever-present clipboard in a flurry of silver magic. "There are no concerns," she promptly replied. "Although there is a request in the queue by one of the teachers to take the students on a field trip to the Observatory." "Not like I'd have noticed if they up and left," I mused. "Hoof it to my brother, he'll work it out. Is the scholarship fund doing well?" "Yes, it's more than enough for the next several years," Patience answered. "Good, 'cause I'd like to broaden admissions to the school, for unicorns from less fortunate families or those without families at all. I've got this idea for a 'School For Re-Gifted Unicorns...'" "That name is atrocious but you'll never let it go, will you?" Patience sighed, scratching a note onto a fresh page. I replied with my Generic Princely Smile, which was usually saved for special events and public appearances. Gentle and approving, yet distant and regal. Patience, utterly unamused, elected to ignore it and continue paging down her lists. "Several applications for trade between our provinces, the annual index of taxable trade goods- it seems there's a shortage of confetti, for some reason- and a referendum by the Canterlot Weather Workers' Union," Patience rattled off professionally. "And I do hope you've begun delegating the planning of the Gala." "Of course," I replied, feigning offense. "And if you would, please make arrangements to reserve six- no, make it seven tickets for my student, Twilight Sparkle." Patience noted it down without comment. As we continued our stroll through the cavernous halls, I curiously attempted to steer her into a marble column. Without even looking up, the concentrating unicorn stepped around the obstruction. How does she even do that? There's gotta be a spell or something, nopony is that observant... "-esentatives from Yak Yakistan as well?" She asked, my introspection broken abruptly by the question. "Uh, yeah, definitely," I answered. "And please include my assurances that we will do everything in our power to make them feel at home." "Have you even been to Yak Yakistan?" She asked skeptically. "My assurances," I repeated, with a forced smile. "That everything will be exactly like it is in Yak Yakistan." I had, in fact, been to Yak Yakistan, which was part of the reason I was on board with their representatives attending the Gala. Despite always choosing as exciting of a theme as we could, my brother and I were generally resigned to a rather dull evening. Either the Yaks took part in the festivities and enjoyed laser tag, or they would wreak a swathe of panic and destruction through the pristine halls of Canterlot. Win-win, as far as Galas went. Although it might be worth toning it down a little, for Twilight's first experience. It wouldn't do to dash anypony's expectations for the night, after all. "Arrange a meeting with Discord before the Gala committee convenes," I added as an afterthought. "He needs to be able to fix whatever they're planning on putting together. If, uh, it gets smashed. For some reason." Patience narrowed her eyes suspiciously at that- completely disregarding my Innocent Smile- but scribbled it down regardless. "Did you look over those requisition forms sent by the Crystal Empire?" She asked as we reached the courtyard. It was a masterpiece of unicorn architecture, like everything else in the capitol. The Gardens were distinct from the courtyard- nestled within the elevation difference between the city's keep and the castle proper- though they referenced each other in subtle ways. Twists of ivy creeper were chiseled into the courtyard's marble pillars, some of which curved to meet archways in a semblance of tree branches. The charmingly overgrown flagstones bore similar embellishments to those marking the Garden's footpaths. It gave any who were familiar with both the courtyard and Gardens a comfortable reminder of Canterlot's codependence with its ruling body, which made for a far more respectable story than that the masons had run out of flagstone while building them. However, a valuable lesson in sharing had been learned by all that day, and to this day I couldn't look upon the tiles without wondering where the other half had gone. "Actually, I did look those over. I found nothing objectionable with them at all," I said proudly, enjoying Patience's surprise. It wasn't often I got to something that quickly. Or willingly. "And the.... list of grievances by the residents of Ponyville?" She followed, glancing down at her checklist. I stopped in my tracks, shod hooves ceasing their metallic clatter against the stone. "I.... don't suppose you mean the list I reviewed last week?" I asked hopefully. "No, I mean the list for this week," she sighed, producing the document with an easy flourish of silver magic. "It's longer." "Uhh... damn. Let's see..." I muttered, taking the offered list in my own magic. "Noxious miasma of dragonsmoke, Twilight dealt with that, cool- Interferences with the Running of the Leaves, that'd be cleaned up by now anyway- Overuse of confetti cannons, that'd be the sociopathic pink one, that pony's an absolute riot... what else... Immolation of pet bird...? Hey, that was my pet bird! This is last week's list!" I exclaimed, looking at Patience. She accepted the paper back, skimming it briefly before nodding and returning it to the unknowable depths of her clipboard. "My mistake," she said. A gentle silver aura accompanied a new list, which was noticeably longer than the first. "This is the current list." I ground my teeth for a moment in silence, the patient unicorn offering the document unapologetically. "I'll look it over tomorrow morning," I declared petulantly. "I've got something very important to attend to, at the moment." "As you wish," Patience replied, monotone. The near-predatory gleam in her eye told me she wouldn't let me forget it. It was part of the reason she was so indispensable, after all. "Excellent. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be off for some seriously regal and princely reasons. Great work tonight, Patience, as always." I added over my shoulder, turning toward one of several arched courtyard exits. The unicorn gave a sarcastic salute with her clipboard, which brought a grin to my face as I trotted off. "Dear Prince Solaris, Thank you ever so much for the tickets to the Grand Galloping Gala! For some reason I was worried you wouldn't provide enough of them. I couldn't be happier that my concerns were unfounded! My friends and I can't wait to attend, but are you sure you don't need us to help? Not to cast doubt on what I'm sure will be a night to remember; it just seems odd not to make use of what talent is available. I just know AppleJack and Rarity would love to do whatever they can to assist with Gala preparations, and that's not even mentioning Pinkie Pie. In any case, things in Ponyville are quite normal. What passes for normal in Ponyville, at any rate. Nothing major has occurred since my last friendship report- although I was looking forward to testing my new telescope, the girls surprised me a sleepover the other night. The full account, including the unfolding of a pillow fight which left half the library in ruins, will have to wait until we meet face-to-face, I'm afraid. Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle." Having only just made arrangements for Twilight to receive the Gala tickets, I knew Patience must have sent them ahead of time. It wasn't unlike her to anticipate my whim so precisely. Playing along with my instruction, though... that was new. "That pony is too helpful for her own good," I said to myself, the words echoing around the empty antechamber until I wasn't sure whether I had meant them for Twilight or Patience. I'd adjourned into the room once Twilight's letter had arrived by dragonfire. Somewhat secluded from the throne room it neighbored, the antechamber was one of two on this side of the castle usually used for balls and formal events. "As for a response..." I murmured, summoning a phoenix-quill and parchment with a practiced exercising of my magic. The materials hung in the air before me, dutifully recording my reply as I dictated it into the air. "Dear Twilight Sparkle, It was, of course, my pleasure to extend you and your friends the invitations to the Gala. While your offers to help with the ceremonies are most generous, I simply can't allow you to sully your evening worrying about such things! Please, take your time to enjoy yourselves at the Gala and in the days leading up to it all. I have it on good authority that it will, indeed, be a night to remember. And between you and me, you may be thankful you weren't responsible for the evening's success! This sleepover sounds like quite the event, and I look forward to hearing about it- especially the devastation. Please express my gratitude to your friends for their offers of assistance. It will be a pleasure catching up with everyone at the Gala. Your mentor always, Prince Solaris." "Hope that sounds suitably royal and shit, 'cause I'm not rewriting it," I snorted, glancing down the letter briefly before lighting the missive with spellfire and allowing it to be whisked away. It was a desperately tricky spell to master, one that came only after many years of practice and countless rolls of parchment lost to incineration. Unfortunate that nopony would believe the excuse of a document becoming 'lost in transit' from me anymore. Lost in thought, I nearly tripped down the stairs as I made my way from the antechamber's dias where I'd been pacing. Instinctively, I glanced around to make sure nopony was looking, which of course they weren't. Because there weren't any. Oh, real nice, Solaris. Truly, what a majestic Prince you are. Why do we even have those stairs? There was probably a good reason. The chamber was used for many things, after all. Why, it'd probably even see use at the Gala- Shit, this is where we hold the Gala, isn't it? Will all the stained glass ruin the laser tag? I wondered, approaching the colossal windows. My hooves made quiet, metallic clicks where their heavy adornments met the cool marble. Bereft of any light from inside, the entire chamber met the eyes like the blackest of stone, absorbing light in some places and gleaming softly in the others. The windows, backlit by Canterlot's lights and the few lanterns hanging in the castle grounds beyond, came alive with imagery. They depicted famous scenes from Canterlot's storied history: the castle's founding upon the mountainside, the enshrinement of the great cerberus within Tartarus, and several representations of my brother and I directing the sun and moon in reverent, stylized poses. This window is way too bright to play laser tag here, I mused. Taking careful note of the enchantments lain across the delicately-assembled glass shards, I began to weave a subtle spell of my own. It would help limit the light that made its way through the Castle's windows, and would tie in nicely with the protective wards already in place. With minute adjustments to the position of my horn, concentrating deeply, I tugged gently at the abstract threads of magic that held the windows' enchantments together. Accompanied only by the perfect silence of the Castle around me, I worked painstakingly to adjust the final few elements of my spell and affix them to the windows. There were seldom few unicorns of high enough caliber to cast a spell such as this. Excluding my brother, the only two who could potentially emulate the task were Twilight and Cadence. Twilight may even have more control than I, over the finer elements, I thought. For the final touch, I shaped my abstract work to match the enchantments already in place. Across Canterlot Castle, every stained-glass window adopted my changes without complaint. It was a masterwork of arcane talent. Exhaling in relief, I released my magic and stepped back to admire my handiwork.... without re-tying the windows' original spell. The weight of my own enchantment tugged down at the glass mercilessly, with nothing to counteract it. Well, at least I'll have a story about devastation to exchange for Twilight's, I thought, in the brief silence before every stained-glass window in Canterlot fell from the walls. > Into the Deep End > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Two unicorns stood before an alabaster double-door, conversing in hushed tones. While there were many such doors in Canterlot, none were quite so highly embellished, or bore such distinctive iconography. Bisected evenly by the two halves of the portal was a stylized golden sun, shining proudly in subtle gold embossing. Even more recognizable were the unmistakable black lenses of the Regalia adorning the symbol. A royal guard stood at attention on either side of the door, armored in strange metals that gleamed in the sunlight. "Don't be so nervous," Still Patience said briskly. "I'm not sure I've ever been this nervous before in my entire life," her companion said. He was a young stallion, with a curiously-colored coat somewhere between burgundy and crimson. He'd been visibly uncomfortable when the guards had glanced over him, and was now nearly hyperventilating as Patience scribbled onto her clipboard professionally. "Wait one moment, please." Fidgeting apprehensively, the unicorn did just that. For several moments, actually, as Patience nudged the door open with a hoof and stuck her head inside. While the alabaster opened easily and without a whisper of complaint, the nervous stallion couldn't make out what was being said within. After a veritable eternity, during which one of the guards coughed twice and nearly gave the waiting unicorn a heart attack, Patience withdrew and regarded him impassively. "Really, do calm down," she said. "There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of. If you don't wish to be here, I won't force you to stay." "Y-you will?" The unicorn asked, gaping. Patience hardly looked impressed with the response, but shrugged and turned back to her clipboard. "Of course." She sniffed. "Quite frankly, it doesn't make a lick of difference to me whether you stick around or not. The only reason you're here is by a personal recommendation. Make use of it or don't." That seemed be enough for the seneschal, who turned away with a flick of her tail and a magical shuffling of parchment. Gradually, the echoes of her hooves against the marble flooring faded, until the stallion was left alone in the empty corridor, with only the silent guards and a big golden sun-door before him. I really.... don't want to be here, he thought, biting his lower lip. But Twilight really stuck her snout out for me with this recommendation! If I get it wrong, at least I can say I gave my best! Before he could lose any more courage, the young stallion strode forward and unhesitatingly and hoofed the door aside. At least.... that had been his intention. Somehow the final motion was a near-silent shove of his hoof, swinging the emblazoned white door open just enough for him to slink through. Unconcerned with his attempts to muffle the noise of its closing, the door swung shut unimpeded, utterly without noise in the silence of the chamber. "Took you long enough," a voice said cheerfully, directly into his ear. "Aaaaaaah!" The young stallion's voice broke slightly as he jumped, startled nearly his own height into the air. Breathing heavily, he looked with wide eyes and shaking hooves upon the pony who had approached, unnoticed. A very tall, very regal, and very amused Prince of Day looked back at him. "A-ah, Prince Solaris! I'm so sorry!" The unicorn gasped, dropping a quivering foreleg to the ground in a bow. "It's quite fine. Normally I would apologize for startling you, but in this case, I regret nothing," the alabaster alicorn announced. Keeping his tone conversational as he retreated slightly, the diarch crossed the unfamiliar chamber in a surprisingly musical clatter of metal-on-stone. Relieved slightly of the Prince's attention, the stallion took a moment or two to relax and study his new environment. The unicorn stood in an open, circular chamber which was brightly-lit from a ring of skylights above. Several richly-textured curtains and tapestries served to shroud a handful of alcoves and off-chambers, but they were placed deliberately to preserve the circular feel of the room. Bereft of any separation by door or window, a single balcony showcased a singular view of Equestria from one of Canterlot's tallest towers; on the other side, a gently-sloped recess in the marble cradled a cushion of pillows and blankets. Repeated ceaselessly throughout the architecture, design, and decoration of the chamber were echoes of the Diarchy's symbols. It occurred somewhat distantly to the young stallion that he was standing in the Prince's private chambers, and that the Prince was studying his reactions even as he moved to recline on a shaped cushion near the balcony. "No, don't apologize," the Prince said, not unkindly. The young stallion shut is mouth lamely, attempting a shy smile. At the Diarch's nod toward the remaining cushion, he approached gingerly and sat. Caught between the shapeless piece of furniture and Solaris's calm stare, the unicorn shifted uncomfortably. "Uh-uhm, Twilight Sparkle should have sent a letter-" he began, but was immediately interrupted by the Prince, again. This time, it was a brief ripple of laughter that caught the young stallion off guard as the Prince chuckled, carefree. "She sent six, actually," Solaris said conspiratorially, as if they were discussing a secret and somepony was eavesdropping. "All of which served to inform me in no uncertain terms that she had finally located a pony suitable to be my assistant, and utterly failed to provide any information of substance whatsoever." "Oh. I'm, uhm. Not exactly sure what to say to that," the stallion replied. "Why don't we start with your name?" Solaris suggested innocently, immediately causing the unicorn to turn an impressive shade of red. "I-It's Cinnabar! I'm sorry, your highness-" he stammered, before being cut off again. "Don't mind, my little pony," the Prince said, holding up a hoof as if to stop the unicorn's stuttered apologies. "Why exactly do you think Twilight recommended you?" "I, uhm... That is..." Cinnabar visibly wilted. "I don't know, not really. I helped her once or twice at the library, that's all." "Gotcha," Prince Solaris replied gently. His wings unfurled slightly to stretch themselves as he thought, uncharacteristically pensive. Twilight said the Princes were really unprofessional, Cinnabar thought. I was expecting something... less formal? "Tell me about your cutie mark," The Prince said, unexpectedly. Cinnabar winced at the blunt question, but the Prince simply flicked his tail and waited expectantly. "It, well... I got it a lot later than most ponies," the unicorn admitted. Instinctively, he turned on the cushion to glance at his flank, where the strange mark sat proudly. A single circle, atop a small cross and crowned with a half-circle. No matter how often he looked at it, Cinnabar's cutie mark seemed alien, as if to remind him how little he knew about himself. "When I left home," he added hesitantly. "Do you know what it means?" Solaris asked quietly. Cinnabar's head snapped up. "No," he whispered. For the first time since arriving, his desire to flee the chamber was matched by curiosity. "Why, what does it mean!?" He pressed, gazing urgently at the thoughtful Prince. The Prince who then grinned, giving Cinnabar a brief glimpse of the mischievous pony Twilight had spoken of. "At first, I thought Twilight had recommended you for your bravery," Solaris said. He immediately held up an immaculate hoof, forestalling Cinnabar's protest. "-No my little pony, you are brave," he continued firmly. "You were afraid of coming through that door, and you did it anyway. That's what bravery means." Cinnabar swallowed, not daring a response. I nearly didn't, he thought. And I nearly let Twilight down. "Your cutie mark is an ancient symbol," Prince Solaris said quietly. "It represents 'mercury,' the most formless element. Mercury can settle into any shape, and change itself to fit inside any container. For many centuries, it has been a metaphor for change and adaptability." "I.... I see," Cinnabar thought, stunned. Change and adaptability... that sounds... like my life, he thought slowly. A sense of understanding, of inspiration, was dawning on the reddish unicorn. Slowly, he raised his head to smile, disbelieving, at the Prince of Day. "I'm impressed, kid," Solaris said kindly. "It's not gonna be an easy job, but it's yours. If you want it." A thrill ran through Cinnabar's entire body, from horn to hooves- and it wasn't entirely because of the job offer, either. This is who I am, the unicorn thought, with a newfound certainty. Cinnabar had never been so certain about anything in his life. "I'll do it," he said. Prince Solaris smiled, and opened his mouth to reply- -Only to be cut off by the unicorn holding up a hoof. "And I'm not being brave," Cinnabar said. "Because I'm not afraid anymore." Prince Solaris blinked, and in the brief silence Cinnabar realized what he'd just done. Oh Stars, I just interrupted a Prince, he thought with horror. Before he had a chance to do more than wince, the Prince burst into laughter. This time, it was deeply genuine, and the unicorn was caught further off guard by the musical sound. The Prince actually had to unfurl a wing and run a forefeather across his eye. "Ah, that was excellent," Solaris announced, still chuckling. "Although I'm afraid I must be going, my little pony. Ponies to meet, a world to run, you know how it is." Cinnabar clambered to his feet, managing to avoid tripping over his hooves or the cushion. The Prince simply swept his wings toward the vaulted ceiling, their single upbeat pulling him upward gracefully. The shining alicorn was still chuckling as he led Cinnabar to the chamber's embellished door. "And between us," the Prince said happily as the unicorn nosed the door open for him, "You may want to send Twilight a letter after Patience has finished briefing you. Her recommendation was helpful, after all." Something about the twinkle in the Prince's eye seemed unusual to Cinnabar, but he nodded regardless. He was still shocked and elated in equal parts, and didn't quite trust himself to speak. He barely managed a bow, before the door closed before him. Once again, the unicorn was left standing in the marble hallway, alone but for two guards. There was silence. "Wait, where the buck is Patience?" The Prince's brand new Personal Assistant asked. "Well, what's it say, Twilight?" Spike asked, standing on the tips of his claws to read the letter where it was suspended by the unicorn's magic. "Just a moment, Spike," Twilight replied, breaking the seal happily. "Dear Twilight Sparkle," she read. "After arriving in Canterlot, I was immediately taken to see Prince Solaris by one of the Royal Seneschals. He was nowhere near as difficult as you made him sound! Maybe he's sick or something? Anyway, I got the job! And what's more, the Prince knew about my cutie mark! Please don't take this the wrong way, but... is there something you weren't telling me? And why exactly did you recommend me in the first place? Anyhow, thank you for the recommendation. I wouldn't have made it this far without you! Sincerely, Cinnabar Lustre Personal Assistant to the Diarchy! Spike, this is wonderful!" Twilight finished excitedly. "I knew he could do it!" "Looks like he's already worrying about the Prince, too," Spike observed. "Can the Sun even get sick? And what are you doing, Twilight?" "I need you to send something back for me," Twilight replied, magically sifting through a nearby bookcase. Discarded titles were already beginning to pile up on the floor around her. Spike sighed dejectedly at the clutter. "Aha!" Twilight exclaimed, holding forth a leather-bound book. "Let me just bookmark it for him..." She happily crossed to a nearby desk, flipping through the pages rapidly. "What's so special about this book, anyway?" Spike asked, already starting to re-shelve the misplaced books. "Oh, Spike," Twilight said, with a small giggle. "You should recognize Starswirl's Compendium Astronomica!" "And why are we sending it to Cinnabar?" Spike replied, arms full. "He didn't seem the, uh. Compendium type." "Everypony's a compendium type," Twilight responded instantly. "Whatever that means. And anyway, he asked why I recommended him." "Is 'because nopony else could put up with the Prince for more than a week' not a good reason?" Spike said, finishing a shelf in time to make quote-motions with his claws. "Hush! And send the book, please," Twilight said with an exasperated smile. Safely ensconced in his new room, deep within Canterlot Castle, a crimson unicorn looked up at a swirl of emerald dragonfire. Crossing to a large desk tucked away in the corner, he laid a heavy book down upon its surface. There's no note, Cinnabar mused. Gently, he flipped the thick text open to the bookmarked page curiously. For the second time that day, a slow smile came to the unicorn's face. Wonderingly, like the sun breaking the horizon to begin a new dawn. "Mercury," he read aloud, voice reverent. "The planet closest to the Sun." > Sidereal > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I screamed, but whatever words I had were lost in the maelstorm. Torn by shrieking winds and sizzling, uncontrollable streaks of magic, the very sky was roaring around us. In addition to the scores of cuts across my hide, my snout was bleeding from the immense air pressure. Everything tasted of blood and electricity, and the air's supersaturation of magic was enough to make my head spin, my horn in agony. "You never cared!" The monster screamed, voice half-familiar beneath layers of enchantment and bloodthirst. "Always the beloved one! Always the perfect one! Why WOULD you care?!" Each accusation was punctuated by a whiplash of onyx magic, which met my own with the force of a meteor strike. I tumbled repeatedly, wings straining with the effort to stabilize my flight and keep me aloft as we circled in the tumultuous sky. "How could you ever think that?!" I screamed, throat raw and bloody. My words were cut short by a seething bolt of black lightning, forcing me to fold one wing and roll over myself in mid-air. Sinister tendrils of inky smoke hung disturbingly in the air behind the spell as it dissipated. More soon followed, ancient and devastating magic that left me gasping and twisting in the air to recover quickly enough. "Where is your power now?" The Nightmare hissed, voice nearly unintelligible from hate. "Where is the mighty Caleum Igna?" How? I destroyed those records! I thought, my shocked expression bringing a cruel smile to the Nightmare's twisted visage. Stinging slashes of rain cut across my face now, accompanied by blinding strikes of lightning we both dove to avoid. Dimly, I could make out the Nightmare's shape through the storm, maleficent patterns of spellfire accumulating in a distinctive pattern. Nightfire, I realized with horror. Fueled by desperation, I tilted my own horn toward the blackened heavens and began to weave my own, all-too-familiar spell. Abruptly, the clouds were shorn apart in a rough circle, boiled away instantaneously by a massive column of focused sunlight that enveloped us both. "Don't do this!" I half-screamed, half pleaded the words at the unrecognizable pony before me. I nearly choked, hacking several bloody coughs from tearing vocal chords. Only an alien laughter from the Nightmare answered me, twisting upward on the wind. As it raised its horn, the Nightfire eagerly tearing free of its magical restraints, I brought the full power of the Sun to bear against it. Caelum Igna tore a hole in the sky, and my world turned to fire- I woke with a final gasping shout. My body was burning, at odds with the cold sweat that covered my coat. Breathless and briefly disoriented, it took several moments for me to realize where I was. The open balcony bathed my bedchamber in a gentle silver light, and I was viciously entangled in my own bedsheets. Nearly three hours 'til dawn, I mused. Whispers of cosmic time washed over me unceasingly, like the invisible solar wind that stirred my mane and coat, even now. How my brother could ever forget the time was beyond me. Umbra, my brother. The Prince of Night, not the Nightmare. A frustrated groan escaped me as I kicked the silk sheets free and walked out onto the balcony. With my eyes closed and the night's chill wind encircling the tips of Canterlot's spires, I could almost make myself believe I was under water. Tonight though, I simply sat on the smooth marble and watched the stars, impossibly high above. I shouldn't be having these dreams. It's over and done with. In the far distance, only a soft homely glow emanating from behind the surrounding hills betrayed the presence of Ponyville. There were always some lights kept on in that town, partially due to its nervous proximity to the Everfree. A rather excessively studious purple unicorn was also partly to blame, of course. Stars, I'm fuckin' somber tonight, I thought, with a wry grin. Maybe I need to prank somepony. That line of thinking quickly led me to the Gala, and the days of preparation that lay ahead. Delegating the planning of the event to a special committee was one thing, but getting Discord involved was something entirely different. Yet another thing I have Twilight to thank for. The draconequus adored her friend Fluttershy, and usually spent his time with her in Ponyville. Before she'd been around to curb his overly mischievous nature, Discord would terrorize the inhabitants of Canterlot nearly full-time. While my brother and I had always found it hilarious, there were some days we seriously considered encasing the god of Chaos in stone. I shook my head abruptly, mane billowing unhelpfully. Anyway, two and half hours until dawn... and countless unaware ponies to prank. "....Trade of which is sanctioned by our annexing of the Crystal Empire, leaving no alternative for an official audit. I'm afraid without the subsidy, our commerce is simply not sustainable, your Highness. In plain terms, your law leaves us no choice in the matter." Satisfied, the noble sat back on his haunches. Few ponies would allow themselves such a breach of decorum, but the upper echelons of Canterlot's nobility had grown more bold in recent years. Perhaps it had something to do with my current posture. Or lack thereof. "I understand," I said, adopting my Generic Princely Visage before tuning out the proceedings once more. As the noble began another diatribe about the horrors of Equestrian tax law, my attention turned to the many sheets of parchment spread on the dias before me. Just beneath the curved wooden surface, several sharp-angled shelves bore additional scrolls. I casually drew one forth, withdrawing a rolled missive from its unremarkable home. Shuffling it amongst the official papers on the dias, I began to read, keeping my expression professional and occasionally glancing around the room appraisingly to keep up appearances. Dear Prince Brolaris of the Brolar Magnate, Crystal greetings and all that. I've been meaning to pay you a visit, but plans on this end are going to be on hold for a while- until well after your Gala, I'm afraid. Please convey my official apology to Shining, I know he was hoping for me to make it this year. I'd write him myself but truth be told, I'm still a bit apprehensive about contacting him personally. Now, what's this I hear about you hiring a PA? I seem to recall you insisting you didn't want anypony 'micromanaging your personal life?' It's not like you at all- this must be some unicorn! My best regards to you and Umbro, Cadence I sighed, magicking the scroll to the side with an unusual tingle of melancholy. Unsurprisingly, the gestures went unnoticed by the court, although a scribe sitting off to the side spared a glance in my direction. Unlike me, huh? I wondered. I suppose... A handful of years ago, a PA was the most unpalatable concept. How is it that I've become so... amenable to the idea? "-tributions to the kingdom's internal revenue," finished the noble proudly. Several of his fellows donated a scattering of uniform applause, hooves tapping against the marble floor. Scribes' quills wicked across parchment as he found a seat and a different speaker took his place. I'm sure Cinnabar will become just as indispensable as Patience, I thought. But what does it say about me that I can't tell when I'm acting out of character? As the court proceedings ground on, requiring only the barest minimum of my attentions, I finished several reams of paperwork and penned a reply to Cadence. Dear Empresister Miamore di Cadensis, Good dawning to you, or whatever. Don't fret too much over the schedule- not like we don't write every other day, after all. I'll make some excuse to Shining, but I know he'd rather hear from you directly. Princess of love as you are, I hope the irony of your behavior hasn't escaped you! If you're looking for the way in to that stallion's heart, (not that you fuckin' need it, sister) I believe you met her a long time ago. I hardly realized my new PA was the stuff of international news. Can't find anything better to do in that kaleidoscope you call a kingdom? I've been doing nothing but listening to financial drivel on this end- I can probs count on my hooves the last time these nobles got something done. Shit feels like somepony took sandpaper to my brain. Best wishes, Solaris "-Which concludes today's morning session," finished the clerk smartly. "Thank you, Detail." I directed a relieved glance at the brown pony, who bowed happily and stood with the rest of the Court as I rose, stretching. "Session adjourned. Please enjoy your day, everypony." The nobles and staff began to file out of the chamber as I left, flanked by a pair of guards through a recessed side door. Almost before the mahogany had shut behind me Patience and Cinnabar were at my side, the former looking as stern as ever while the latter eyed my guards nervously. I spared Cinnabar a grin as Patience began rattling down her agenda. "Court ran rather late, so you'll have a half-hour before lunch and an hour past that before the afternoon session begins. You'll probably want to review the minutes of the Gala committee's last meeting before then; I understand there are some matters they were unable to reconcile. Also, I have correspondence from the School as well as your brother, who expresses his condolences for his absence at your breakfast and says, quote, 'There's no way in Tartarus I'll be at dinner either.'" She looked up disapprovingly at the last statement, making it clear what she thought of the Prince's truancy. I shrugged and kept walking, keeping my pace measured so the four smaller ponies attending me could keep up. "He's totally bailing so he doesn't have to help with the Gala," I sighed. "Is there anything else requiring my immediate attention?" "I have a rather vaguely-worded message from Captain Spitfire of the Wonderbolts, requesting an audience at your convenience." Patience raised an eyebrow, shuffling at some papers. With another sigh, I tilted my head, and Patience obediently transferred the opened letter to the golden aura of my own magic. I tucked it under one wing and stopped- we'd reached the second branch foyer of the Gardens. "My thanks, gentlemen," I said to the guards. "Cinnabar, please inform the kitchen I'll be taking lunch in the gazebo. Patience, if you could bring him back when you're through doing... Uhh. Whatever tedious and official shit you're gonna do?" The older unicorn glared at me before nodding curtly, motioning to her rust-colored companion. They left me alone with the guards, who saluted and took up positions at the Garden's entrance as I continued along the gravel path. "Is the Prince always so...." Cinnabar trailed off uncertainly as he trotted alongside Patience. "Drained? Court has that effect on him, yes," she finished dryly. "Particularly during this time of year. The Gala is a singular event, and the committee is still a new addition to the ordeal. Truthfully, it will be a good few years before the system is streamlined." That gave the unicorn some thought, slowing slightly to trail behind the royal seneschal. "The Princes are, like.... really old, right?" At his companion's raised eyebrow, he hurried to amend his question. "I mean, I knew that! It's just- I don't know, weird to think about. They've probably been to hundreds of Galas before." "And they will still be at Galas, hundreds of years after you and I are gone," Patience agreed. "Such is the way of things. It can take some time to adjust to palace life, Cinnabar." The unicorn stopped suddenly, just before they'd arrived at the kitchen doors. She turned to the younger pony seriously, laying a hoof on his shoulder. Cinnabar almost took a step backward, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic display of familiarity from the businesslike seneschal. "If you'd like my personal advice," Patience said slowly, "Do your best to see the Prince as just a normal pony. I know it's difficult, especially because you'll be expected to interact with him in a professional environment.... but I don't think he would have hired you simply because of a recommendation." The planet closest to the Sun. Unbidden, the words from the book echoed in Cinnabar's head. He nodded, understanding. "You think he needs a friend?" He asked quietly, looking to both sides of the corridor instinctively. Patience snorted, flicking her tail derisively. "I think he needs somepony who's job isn't to nag at him every second of the day." Cinnabar flushed ruefully at Patience's knowing smile, relaxing slightly when she withdrew. She nodded, indicating the kitchen doors. "Alright, go on. You'll be talking with the kitchen a lot from now on, so better get used to it." "Will do," the young stallion chuckled. He paused before the doors, looking back. "And, uh, thanks." Patience waved a hoof for him to go in, already flipping through her clipboard. Cinnabar pushed through the doors. "Sup, there you are," I said, looking up from my papers with a grin as Cinnabar padded up to the gazebo. "Did Patience give you a hard time? I know she can come on a little strong, at first." "Actually, she was rather helpful." Cinnabar smiled brightly before taking a seat at the low table. It was spread with documents, the Wonderbolts' letter and my own half-written reply among them. "Uhh.... what did you want me for, anyway?" I shrugged, continuing my writing with a slight frown. "It's cool having somepony to talk to during lunch. And I'd be bored out of my skull with these, otherwise." I indicated the papers with a nod, not looking away. "Oh, right." Cinnabar said. "Is it cool if I asked you a, hmm. Personal question?" I glanced up briefly, concentration breaking at the hesitation in his voice. "Word, go for it," I said curiously. "It's just the first time I've noticed," the unicorn said, somewhat embarrassed. "I was wondering.... uh. What happened to your horn?" "You thought that would kill me?" The Nightmare shrieked, spraying blackened, oily blood across the devastated throne room. Flames, colored both of ink and gold, poured from the gaping ceiling as the Caelum Igna and Nightfire rained down. Crumbling sections of the castle's proud architecture crashed down around us, backlit by the flames and occasional flashes of uncontrolled lightning. "No, not kill you. My fucking brother's in there somewhere!" I hissed back, trying to fight to my hooves. The impact had splintered my shields, and one of my forelegs was broken. I couldn't spare the magic to repair it, not when taking my eyes off the Nightmare would mean death. But the monster just laughed, lowering its horn. Torrents of glittering onyx magic lit the chamber, literally overshadowing the light from the fires. My own flames seemed to quell, finally guttering out under the Nightmare's malignant aura. I knew now, with utter certainty, that my hold on the Sun wasn't enough to keep the Moon from the sky any longer. Without it, the strength I had left was only my own. I need.... to stop it from casting, I thought desperately, struggling to concentrate behind the pain of my injuries. The room was spinning, the Nightmare's form wavering under the threat of unconsciousness. Its features blended together like a watercolor, providing the creature's visage with a shroud of hazy, half-imagined details. "Spells like Caelum Igna were declared forbidden millennia ago," the horror before me hissed. "And even that was a pathetic failure. I will give you one chance to bow, before I end you." For a moment, there was only the roar of the storm outside and our own labored breaths. "We- We didn't build this throne room," I panted, dragging out my words between painful gasps. At least a rib broken too, then. "It was... It was already here. A tribute... to something above the Sun and Moon. Above- Above magic." I coughed, and the Nightmare seemed to relish the sound, stepping closer and continuing to drain the magic from the room triumphantly. That's close enough, I thought. "It's called Harmony, bitch," I croaked, and leapt. My wings and hindlegs, reinforced by the last of my magical reserves, sent an supernova of pain through my body at the explosive movement, but it was overcome by the crack as I slammed my horn into the Nightmare's. The blow carried enough force to shatter stone, bolstered by years of fencing practice and the weight of desperation. A shockwave of white-hot magical backfire sent us both flying backward, the chamber itself fragmenting. The world went mercifully black after that, lost to unconsciousness for an indeterminate amount of time. When I awoke, agony creeping slowly over my body, I noticed I'd come to rest in a sitting position. My body was crooked, bent at a number of awkward angles, and propped up against a surface exceedingly rough and hard. I looked up slowly, blinking through trickles of blood and dust. The chamber's strange centerpiece had mostly survived the explosion, and from within the shattered stone orbs shone a strange light.... "Pathetic, to see the Sun crawl at one's feet..." A terrible, half-familiar voice rasped. "Uh, sorry," Cinnabar said instantly, withdrawing. "I knew that was rude to ask." I knew I must have winced visibly to cause him to shrink back like that, and hurried to correct him. I need to do better, I thought, shaken. "No, it's fine. I was just.... surprised, is all. It- It's an old fencing scar. That used to be quite popular back in the day." I set my quill back down, pretending to inspect the letter. "Oh, right. Uh, sorry. It looks like it must have been terrible," the unicorn said awkwardly. "N-Not that it looks terrible! Your horn is fine! I mean, not that it's just fine or anything, it's really regal, there's just nothing wrong with it! There-" I cut off my assistant's attempts to shove his hoof further into his mouth with a laugh. "Haha, I understand completely. Your inspection of my horn aside-" I continued, giving the now-redder-than-normal unicorn my Amused Princely Smile, "I believe our lunch has arrived." A brief, tightly-strung silence came over the Gardens, as the waitstaff encircled the table, depositing a variety of platters and trays upon it. I smiled gently at them, watching my flustered assistant out of the corner of my eye. Cinnabar, eager for whatever distraction he could find, snagged a flagon of cider the instant one of the waiters placed it onto the low table. I waited until they'd gone, watching the young stallion drink deeply and timing my words perfectly. "Besides," I said mischievously, picking up a sandwich with my own magic, "You should see the other guy." Still Patience walked professionally up the gravel path toward the gazebo, clipboard help out in front of her. I'm sure he's doing fine, she mused, thinking of Cinnabar's earlier nervousness at his new position. Really, all he needs to do is stop worrying so much about messing up. He's barely been given any responsibilities yet. There's nothing to mess up. Reassured, the royal seneschal trotted up to the gazebo, just in time to see the young stallion spray a mouthful of cider in the Prince's face.