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// 4 - How to Crystallize Your Knowledge (And Study Magical Chivalry) 
// Story: Arcane Realms 
// by Prane 
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Several schools there were in Canterlot. Differences between them were purely superficial.

Whether they were young, uniform-wearing socialites with their University’s fancy exchange programs, or extracurricularly busy bees learning under the passionate, if extravagant staff of the Academy, the Clovers and Coconuts alike agreed: it was physically impossible to be prepared for every subject, every class, and every test at all times. Literature, art, math, science, history—how could anyone live that that speed? The Coconuts surely didn’t, unraveling only what they found most puzzling at the moment, and nor did the Clovers, turning their eyes and ears to what their parents or other figures of authority deemed as proper.

SGI students weren’t meant to learn it all either. Honing magical abilities made for a decent excuse, but no spell could absolve them of not even leafing through their notebooks until only two days before a Very Important Test.

Spike didn’t seek absolution. He could certainly use a blessing, though.

“Alright, hit me with another one. Just… something easier this time.”

“Something easier, here goes,” Merrot eagerly replied. “What was the name of the last marshal of the Crystal Empire before its disappearance? A. Jade Armor. B. Jade Echo. C. Jade Dream. D. Jade Wind.”

Absent-mindedly rummaging across tiny white rocks surrounding the base of the overhead statue, Spike peeked from under Across the Ages 1, a history textbook splayed out on his face. The statue had Knowledge written on its plaque and it presented a mare not unlike Twilight standing on her hind legs, holding a coiled scroll with reverence. Another scroll enveloped her from hooves to neck like a swoosh of wisdom materialized in stone parchment.

Stone statue, stone parchment. Stone deaf to a poor student’s plea. Some help you were, Lady Knowledge!

“Ugh, I hate those,” Spike moaned. “You’re only making them so similar to mess me up.”

“I’ll give you a hint. There are cockatrices associated with this pony’s heraldry.”

“Cockatrices-shmockatrices. I’m gonna go with Jade… uh, C.”

“But I see no Jade Sea here. Ow! Ouch!” Pebbles bounced off Merrot’s carapace. “Still not in the mood? Then you must forgive me once again, because it is actually B—Jade Echo.”

“Yeah, yeah. I knew it was either him or the other guy.”

“The other girl, rather? As it happens, Marshal Jade Echo was a lady whose family were known monster hunters,” Merrot corrected him, hiding behind a book right in time for another barrage. “Oh, come on, what did I do? Do you want to pass it or not?”

Spike muttered a low growl. He couldn’t blame Merrot—that would be childish—but the awfully envious statue which so far refused to share its knowledge was a satisfying enough culprit. As far as the sculpture garden went, some of those figures could be forgotten spirits just waiting to be released, and hey, maybe that’s exactly what he should do. Maybe he should ask Discord to take him on a trip in time so he could hang out with Jade Echo himself. Herself. Whatever. At this point it was either that or pillowing books overnight.

Technically, yes, he did spent his last free weekend at Rarity’s instead of studying and no, it wasn’t his fault. Rarity insisted. History did not.

“Sorry. I know.” Spike joined the changeling on the bench. “It’s just that I’ve come here to study magic and that’s pretty much it. Nowadays no pony cares about what happened a thousand years ago, so what a dragon like me has to gain from reading about it?”

“A broader perspective. Sometimes a prominent character or an event may have more than one interpretation. Personally, I find it fascinating to study the strictly pony point of view on history. Take Star Swirl the Bearded, for example. He is generally considered a hero among Equestrians, is he not? Griffons, however, call him 'the Galestealer', the one who tried to take their magic away. Of course there are claims that the same griffons stole a bunch of magical artifacts from him in the first place thanks to which they discovered their own connection to magic, but that’s a different story.”

“Be nice and don’t tell it around Glavia, okay?”

“You want a less personal example? Very well. Star Swirl versus merponies. Oh, they straight despise him, as according to their mythology he banished their three makers-goddesses to another world where he believed their supposedly harmful magic would be lost. Interesting, no?”

“Whaddya know, my perspectives have never been broader,” Spike quipped.

“Not every piece of information will change the world, granted, but even those minor ones have value. They can be exchanged in a casual talk and are, in themselves, good conversation starters.”

Spike’s wince spoke volumes about how absurd the notion was. “Why, certainly,” he said, swiveling. “Hi, I’m Spike, let me get you a drink. Oh, by the way, did you know that the last important military figure of the Crystal Empire was a girl called Jade?”

“Really? My cousin’s named Jade!” Merrot feigned his interest to the letter. “What was her last name, charming?”

“Sea, obviously. No, wait! Echo! Jade Echo! Argh!”

“Yeah, this isn’t gonna work. Barkeeper, Angel Shot with ice. On me.”

“You’re not my type, anyway.” Spike scowled before they both dropped their acts. “Face it. History classes are for teachers to teach and for students to learn and have no value whatsoever. You can’t make a chat with someone who’s not a history buff with, say”—he snatched a loose sheet off Merrot’s notebook behind his back—“asking them how long was the reign of Princess Amore, or which gemstones made the crest before it became a snowflake. Or what was the name of the position… wait, what?”

Spike skimmed the sheet in disbelief. The questions Merrot had been feeding him with were printed, not written by hoof, and definitely not improvised with the sole intention of including yet another bad pun. Every question had its answers grouped in fours, but only one among them was marked with an aggressively blue highlighter. Merrot, upon realizing what happened, reached out for the paper frantically.

“Where did you get that?” Spike asked in a hushed voice. “You don’t do time travel, do you?”

“Only to the past,” the changeling replied. “See the date in the corner? A friend of mine whose name is to be left undisclosed has luckily had Tale-Little misplace it when she-slash-he was taking her class last year.”

“And you’ve been preparing for it since?”

“Of course not! I’ve only had it for a couple of cycles now. Days, sorry. Maybe a week.”

Spike’s eye twitched. “A couple of days? A week? Oh, that’s rich.” He threw his arms in the air. “You’ve been sitting on it for a week and you didn’t share it with your friends? Come on, I could’ve had this weekend off, for all that’s fiery!”

“Friend or not, you should not impute your lack of preparedness to me, Just-Spike. Yesterday you didn’t even know we’re having a test and as you can see, I am forsaking my own weekend off to help you right now.”

“Oh, that’s very noble of you and all, sure, but I don’t recall asking you for help.” Spike snarled. “But here’s a thought: if you had told me about the answers sooner, we could both be doing something else, but nooo, you’d rather stash them for yourself.” He wondered for a moment, and although there was no one but statues within earshot, he exclaimed mockingly, “There goes the mystery behind Piro-Merrot’s good marks, everyone. Come and see how he stays ahead of his classmates by being a jerk, as apparently he’s the only one allowed to ace exams!”

“Here’s a counter-thought for you!” Merrot talked back. “Had I shared the answers earlier, the chances of them surfacing would increase at an alarming rate with every conversation taken on the topic of history, Crystal Empire, or general school matters. Should that have happened, Tale-Little would undoubtedly change the questions, scramble the answers, perhaps do something else to make sure we receive a test of adequate difficulty.” He glared at the dragon. “Do tell me my logic is flawed. Do tell me that.”

“You know it’s not.” Spike shot a finger at him. “Just make your point already.”

“It occurred to me it would be wise to share it at the last possible moment to minimize the risk. I intended to give them to you and Arva-Glavia on Sunday evening, maybe late-late afternoon, but when I saw how terribly clustered you are with your… well, everything history-related, I decided to weave the questions into your study session before revealing them tomorrow. It still posed a risk, but you could say that my good nature has won over in this case.”

“Good nature, right. You just didn’t trust me enough.” Spike reached out for the sheet in Merrot’s grasp, but the changeling took a step back. Spike mirrored it, doubling the distance between them. “And you still don’t. You know what? Keep the test, keep the answers. I don’t need them. I’ll just go and spend the rest of the day and night and day again and do something about my ‘lack of preparedness’. Maybe I’ll even learn how big were the spots on… on Chancellor Crystalline Sparrow’s favorite flower pot!” he retorted with scorn. “Some friend you are.”

Oh, how much he yearned for Merrot to utter a comment, to say Crystalline Arrow’s name correctly like a stupid know-it-all he was. Spike stormed off, but heard no call behind him. Grr. Dumb changeling couldn’t even do that right! Spike didn’t need him—he was going to show him and everybody else that he could pass without anyone’s help, and if not, then fine, there were always other ways to put his smug face in line.

Then again, why wait? He already had a nice reason for his magic to blaze, for him to lash out at the changeling like he deserved. Grr! Idiot Merrot could talk all he wanted about how history was important but that wasn’t going to help him in real life. In fact, close to nothing they learned here was! Five-day grind week by week, theories crammed into his head, pointless homework, were those the grand experiences Kryvarost promised? How on earth his mentor thought Spike could discover the scope of his magic if he was being pestered by trivialities?

He shouldn’t have enrolled here. A nice, isolated place far from things that were holding him back would do. He clenched his fists. Oddly, that calmed him down a bit. The perspective of leaving was enticing, but Canterlot was still a nice place to be.

Spike’s musings took him beyond the statues of Knowledge, Concord, and further around the one of Trust which presented a pair of ponies climbing a chunk of white rock, the one on the top holding the other firmly. He cornered it without much thought, deep into planning his study session. First, he was going to revise chapter four on the rule of Princess Amore, then he’d move to the Empire’s war with the changelings—hmm, he could probably skip the Great Yak Smashing and its repercussions to save time—and then go to the fall of the Crystal Empire. It wasn’t so bad, was it? He had time, all the answers were in the textbook, and the textbook was…?

Well of course he’d left it behind.

Groaning, he trailed his claws across his face and stomped all the way back to Lady Knowledge and the bench facing her. Merrot’s bag and books were still out there which, interestingly, couldn’t be said about the changeling himself.

“Hey, Merrot!” Spike called nowhere in particular. “Your stuff’s just laying around for anyone to take it! Just saying.”

“…require—assistance!” Merrot’s fain plea was heard between gurgling and gasping for breath. “Help. Me. Just—Spike!”

Wasting no time on thinking, Spike headed towards a neatly trimmed hedge. The strangled cry came from… there, commotion in the bushes!

Right behind some bell-shaped flowers, over the wall of green he spotted an intricate helmet in the likes of nothing he had ever seen. It wasn’t that of a Royal Guard, as instead of a crest in the middle it featured two pairs of pointy wings arching up and to the sides, joining together like a halo.

Spike lunged across the foliage straight at an armored equine wrestling Merrot who was evidently losing their power struggle. Accelerated mass combined into enough force to pin anyone to the ground, but the abundance of steel plates absorbed most of the slam, nonetheless causing the intruder to fall to his knee.

Spike tumbled forth. He collected himself quickly and measured the adversary rising before him.

The halo wasn’t really wings, but flat beams arranged around the head. The material used either varied from beam to beam or was iridescent in itself, as the helmet shined with many hues when the pony was turning his head, beholding Spike. The dominating color was a royal shade of purple in which the most of the rest of the armor was made, save for elegant outlines of an imposing cuirass and oversized shoulder pads. To offset the clunky appearance of the hammer-heavy boots, the knight-like pony swooshed his golden cape sporting a symbol of a lily and revealed a rope in his hoof. The other end leashed Merrot’s neck.

Spike growled, breathing emerald flames into his claws and wielding them like a gauntlet. The raw power crackling between his fingers felt familiar, much more than it did during classes when he was holding back. Now he didn’t have to, and it felt good. It felt right.

“Let him go!” he demanded. “Now.”

“You shall do wisely if you choose to not interfere, master dragon!” the figure replied dramatically, his voice old and branded with metallic echo. He detached a short, pointed shaft from his armor and shook it, causing it to expand three times in length. The spear’s crystalline tip shined menacingly with blue light. “I seek no quarrel with the most noble emissaries of your kind, but I shall not be swayed from my path.”

Merrot loosened the leash enough to speak. “I invoke… the power… of the Cultural Exchange Treaty between Changeling Hive Chrysalis and Equestria!”

“Silence, foul face-stealer! There can be no treating with your nation, regardless of the name you’re rallying behind!” the knight proclaimed and jerked the rope, wrapping it further around his hoof. “You shall face adequate fate for the crimes your kind has committed. The judgment is upon you”—he raised his spear—“and I shall pass it gladly.”

“I will give—the test back—I’m sorry!” Merrot coughed, tears coming to his eyes. “I didn’t want—to! Feldora, ancestors, save me!”

An aegis of emerald flames appeared over Merrot’s head. The knight withheld his strike, hesitated, but the shield remained in place, chained to the dragon’s gauntlet with a burning trail. He twirled the spear and sought another opening.

A flick of the wrist. The aegis erupted with a one-sided explosion that hurled him backwards with Merrot’s bound neck obediently following the leash. The changeling fluttered his wings with all his might, but could not break free.

“I said LET HIM GO!” Spike shouted and sent a flaming sphere flying.

The knight’s reflexes were sharp. He must have been a veteran, no stranger to the size of his own armor. He shifted his balance, pinned the spear into the ground to secure the rope and produced a small buckler from underneath his cape. He leaned forward and raised it at an odd angle, but the spell, instead of splashing over its surface, suddenly changed its trajectory and blasted a nearby flowerbed.

Blast. Only last week Spike had promised to minimize the damage caused by his magic. It was burdensome enough as it was, but ponies asking to become collaterals weren’t making it any easier.

He caught a glimpse of the buckler’s backside. It was embedded with enough gemstones to warp a spell’s path, but was the knight a spellcaster himself? Spike opened to the flow of magic between them. Somehow, the particles were ordered inside the pony, but their movement around him was erratic, chaotic. Not only the buckler, but likely the armor as well were responsible for that, which meant that guy was both trained and equipped to hold his ground against magic.

Bared teeth his Spike's grin. One of the laws of spellcasting stated that an object’s capacity to alter the energy flux was proportional to its mass, so he could simply add more fire to make the buckler—and the pony—crack.

“You are a worthy opponent, master dragon. I can see you have heart.”

“Grr. Wanna see yours?”

Spike split the flames in two, one bonfire in each hand, and renewed the assault. More fiery spheres blasted towards the pony, yet to no avail, as the smaller dispersed at the mere proximity of the armor, and the larger were deflected into the foliage. The pony maintained his advance, slow at first but gaining momentum with each weighty stomp. They both charged—they clashed. Spike put his magic aside in favor of a more direct approach and marked a fierce strike at the pony’s muzzle.

His opponent went for an appropriate dodge and countered with an iron jab at the dragon’s ribcage. The strike was heavy and graceless. Spike dashed swiftly to the side and yanked the cape. The other staggered, did his best to regain his balance, but a good kick in the flank toppled him. Spike pressed the advantage and thrust himself forward, pinning the pony to the ground.

“You fight with no honor!” the knight taunted.

Spike’s instincts took over and stoked his desire to set something on fire even further. He growled in vengeful satisfaction. The raw arcane power was but a breath away and his adversary was squirming like a hopeless hatchling. Weak! He deserved to become the subject of a mighty dragon’s wrath. Spike inhaled sharply, greeting the inferno building inside his lungs like a long-awaited prize. The power was growing within him. He was the power.

Fire lavished at the pony who barely managed to hide his face behind the buckler. The stream curved to the side, continuously roasting the shrubbery, but after the buckler moved a few degrees and trapped the flames inside its magic-skewing field, the full force of the fire breath came back at Spike. However fireproof, he couldn’t see a thing for a moment, which was more than enough for the pony to turn the tables. One sudden shift in gravity later Spike wound up on his shoulder blades with the steel behemoth pressing at his chest. Worse—the armor was disrupting the arcane field around them. The streams became slippery, went out of his reach. He couldn’t hold them. He couldn’t… grab… his power!

“You are beaten,” the stallion declared. “Surrender now and I shall spare your well-being.”

The spear’s crystalline tip slid between the armor plates and stopped an inch from the pony's neck.

“You talk too much for a Warrior,” Merrot drawled. “Move.”

The stallion stepped off the dragon's chest and pulled back slowly. Kneeling before he stood up, Spike put his clenched fist next to his heart and held his breath, then drew an arc, taking the fist away and opening it. He exhaled. Without the magic surging through him, the primal rage was leaving him as well.

He examined the backside of the buckler and its embedded gemstones. On the whole, the shield was sturdy and firm, but it definitely didn’t just come straight from under a blacksmith’s hammer. The scratched rim had been bitten twofold: once by time itself, twice by some sort of a fanged creature. Similarly, some of the blacked gems must have been likely already done for when Spike’s fire was reaching them, while others were radiating warmth unlike the cold iron at his fingers. Spike flipped the buckler. The front side sported a familiar, if vaguely visible white snowflake against the purple background.

“You’re from the Crystal Empire!” Spike exclaimed. “Why did you attack him? You do know you guys are at peace, right?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t be surprised if merely driving the invaders off stood for peace in your tongue, master dragon. For us, however, peace means a time when there shall be no war at all. When the Empire is safe from all threats.”

“Like… it is right now?” He glanced at Merrot for help. The changeling scratched his head, but ultimately shook it, clueless. “Because, you know, there hasn’t been a war between you two since, I don’t know, a thousand years or something? Surely you can’t be mad about that? Take it after your Princess Cadance—even she and Queen Chrysalis are practically besties now.”

The stallion tapped his chin, metal-to-metal style.

“I am unfamiliar with this Princess Cadance you speak of. Is she, perchance, a relative to Princess Amore?” he asked, but the dragon denied. “No? Then I say she is yet another usurper on the Empire’s throne!”

“Nope, she’s actually legit,” Merrot said still holding him at spearpoint. “My, uh, associate here was instrumental in helping her reclaim the Crystal Heart.”

“That’s right. Spike the Brave and Glorious. You may have heard about me.”

“Alas, my memory serves me not today. I am certain I would have remembered a Drachelean bearing such an impressive title.”

“Was that an insult?” Merrot whispered.

Clueless in the matters of pony history, Spike knew that of his own kin well.

“Drachelea was a country of dragons that existed long before the Dominion, sort of a dragon democracy. The thing is, it collapsed… eight centuries ago, give or take fifty years,” he said. He could let pass a crystal pony not knowing him, but somebody not knowing anything about the current day and age—that was puzzling. “Alright, new topic. You’re in Canterlot, Equestria right now. Do you know what Equestria is?” he asked in hope of finding out if the pony wasn’t mental.

“But of course! Equestria is a post-tribal diarchy founded by unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies. It’s a young nation, but has already proven a mighty ally against the face-stealers.” A scornful snort came from inside the helmet. “If you desire to insult my knowledge, master dragon, then you may as well be done with me right this instant.”

“Hold on a second, what ‘young nation’? How old do you think it is?”

“Nearing its second century, I believe.”

The pieces were slowly coming together, creating a frame to a picture of a pony who wasn’t just a nutjob.

“Merrot?”

“Yes?”

“Put the glowstick down. Something tells me we won’t be needing it.” He crouched by the knight. “Alright buddy, where to begin? What I’m about to tell you may sound strange, but I assure you it is the honest truth. So, the year today by the Equestrian calendar is 1216…”

“What trickery!”

“Ah-ah, just bear with me. So, that’s twelve centuries counting from the founding of Equestria, and a little more than a thousand years since King Sombra took over the Crystal Empire. Just to be on the same page, does his name sounds familiar to you?”

The stallion sat down with a loud clang, his head hung in shame, or perhaps regret. He nodded reluctantly. “It does indeed. He’s the vile individual who turned Princess Amore into a crystal statue and shattered it, scattering the fragments across the land. Then he usurped the throne, hiding the Crystal Heart to break the spirit of our nation. Alas, quite successfully.” He looked at them with new interest. “I understand Princess Cadance is his daughter?”

Spike whistled. “Wow, and I thought I had a backlog. Listen, the most important thing is that the Crystal Empire is fine now and that there is no war with the changelings. It has a new ruler, not Sombra, and the city, the castle, the Crystal Heart… it’s all still out there. I mean, it was technically gone for a thousand years after King Sombra cursed it shortly before he fell, but it got better.” He shrugged. “Yup, I think that covers it. Any questions?”

“Bah! You expect me to believe that? I shall not believe a word unless I see it for myself!”

“Sure, we can help you get there”—Spike snapped his fingers—“or better yet, we can get you to Princess Celestia first! She’s the one who defeated King Sombra the first time. You know about Equestria—ever heard of her?”

“Young Princess Celestia continues to reign? In good health, I shall hope?” he said with a hitherto unheard of dose of openness which, however, he quickly withdrew. “But you claim the Empire has a new sovereign. Do you speak the truth? Is the tyrant no more? This is… good,” he added, but didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Hmm, I doubt you’d bother coming up with such an elaborate lie if you wanted my demise, therefore I am willing to consider your words and the offer. However, know that I find this entire situation confusing and, well… utterly bizarre.”

“Lucky for you, bizarre is what we do best,” Merrot said. “How about you start by telling us your name?”

The pony straightened up. He removed his helmet, revealing an appearance of a venerable stallion chiseled in deep lemon crystal. His impressive mustache was fashioned after a horseshoe, went around his muzzle and mouth, down to his chin when it joined into a well polished orange beard. Other than that chunk of hair, he was bald, or at least there was no trace of any mane under a hood made of tiny metal rings interlocking with one another. His eyes, two shining emeralds, looked tired but noble still.

“I believe we were unfortunate to have started on the wrong hoof, master Spike the Brave and Glorious, and that additional introductions on my part are required,” he spoke. “I am Sir Gallant Gleam, Knight Protector of the Crystal Empire and a humble servant for righteousness within the Order of the Crystal Lily. At your service.” He took a courtly bow. “Those who wish good for the Crystal Princess and the Empire are friends of mine as well, though I am surprised to see a Drachelean, or whichever noble name your nation bears these days, in the company of a face-stealer.”

“A changeling,” Spike pointed out.

The knight moved closer to Spike in the clandestine manner. “Do blink twice if you are held hostage by this creature. They are known for kidnapping ponies and sinking their teeth in their hearts to harvest their spirits upon which they feed.”

“We don’t do anything like that!” Merrot protested. “We’re using strictly noninvasive methods. Look!” He ran across the smoldered flowerbed to a nearby statue of Love and hissed in. “Aaah. See? Like this!”

“Cunning monstrosities they’ve evolved into,” Gallant Gleam judged. “Now they want to bereave us of our air as well. A vile concept, but expected much.”

“What? How are we the ones working a vile concept? Hello! Rope, neck, bereaving of air? How do you call that concept?”

Gallant Gleam shot his muzzle upwards.

“Justice. You’re a liar and evildoer in the service of liars and evildoers!”

Merrot’s horn shimmered, changing from red to crimson the closer to the statue he stepped. Gallant Gleam assumed the position with his buckler ready. They froze, engaging in a battle of stares no less heated than the fires.

Spike ran between them. “Merrot, take it easy! He didn’t mean that. And you, Sir Gallant, haven’t you got a word I said? There is no war with the changelings. It’s done! Equestria is at peace with them, the Empire is at peace with them, everyone’s at peace with them! So don’t you dare doing anything stupid around this one because he’s with me, and like me he wishes well for the Crystal Princess. Don’t you, Merrot?”

“Well, duh. Crystal Empire is our top supplier,” the changeling replied, detuning himself from the magic. “They’ve got the good stuff.”

“I shall take it as a compliment, if from a questionable source,” Gallant Gleam said. “Very well. Master Spike, I’ve heard a great many things about the Sun Princess in the north and I would very much like to make her acquaintance. Not to mention a knight should always offer gratitude to the leader of the kingdom he’s passing through!” he added as an afterthought while his hoof went up to his stomach. He croaked an old pony’s chuckle. “Of course I would hate to embarrass myself with my petty needs. Would you be kind to advise me to the nearest tavern first? One where fair maidens of Canterlot are serving your finest mead?”

Spike’s own stomach growled. All that fighting made him hungry.

“Well, I don’t know about mead, but our cafeteria makes some great juices. We can take your there and to the Princess, but you have to promise that you won’t try to fight anyone on the way.”

“Yes, I might have acted hastily and I see it now. I am deeply ashamed that my words and actions have gone against what is considered proper around here. I do hope that Canterlot and your radiant leader will not hold that against me. Master, uh, changeling, do come here.” He beckoned and raised his hoof piously. “I hereby swear on my honor I will refrain myself from doing you harm as long as you remain respectful towards the ways of my Order, the Empire, and the memory of the Crystal Princess.” He leaned his head in a nod that was just respectful enough. “You seem to have master Spike’s trust. I heard that’s a rather rare thing to earn from a dragon.”

Spike and Merrot’s glances never crossed. Trust was quickly becoming the word of the day.


* * *


The trio headed across the garden back to the school grounds. Some of the bases they passed by were vacant, waiting for new truths or virtues to arise, or for the return of those already set in stone but undergoing renovation.

The lake plastered on the vast field of green divided the grounds with the help of two paved paths. The one along the northern bank led straight to the Archives, and the other to school’s main building and dormitories with a cafeteria situated between those two. The venue bore perhaps the strongest resemblance to the Royal Castle itself with its miniature towers and perky spires, as if the architects chose to put all elegance they had to spare into that one building, leaving the rest ordinary in comparison.

One would think the food quality to be equally royal, but that was not the case and became something of a joke among students. Although it wasn’t amazing it was nonetheless not terrible either, so perhaps those were just Canterlotians talking, malcontents used to finer dining. They weren’t really eating the crumbs off Princesses’ table. Of course Spike’s favorite triple-layered sapphire cream rolls weren’t on the menu, but he’d rather stay in a shape in case of any calls of statuary nature.

“And you have no idea how you’ve landed here in the future?” he asked.

“Not really, no,” Gallant Gleam replied. “One moment I was in the Nephrite Forest investigating a cave for a possible changeling threat, then I saw a light… the next thing I know I’m treading on rosebuds,” he said, enjoying the sights on the way. “It’s a most intriguing place, this Canterlot. The architecture is quite different, but nothing short of impressive, of course. Oh, and this reminds me of Lazuli Lake during summertime festivities! Yet still, I imagined the place to be more crowded, having heard it to be the first and centermost settlement of Equestria.”

“What do you mean?”

“I see no merchants nor plebeians, only journeyfolk of trades unbeknownst to me and, excuse me for saying that, but your knights are strangely dressed,” he added at a colorful group that was the drama club absorbed in their own shenanigans. “And speaking of, I should have inquired earlier whether or not you belong to an order yourself. Master changeling?”

“Well, back home I dedicated myself to the Feeder Caste. It’s probably as close as it gets for us to be in some kind of an organization.”

“My knowledge does not go as far as your land lies, admittedly, but I value the notion of service towards a greater purpose all the same,” he said. “How about you, master Spike?”

Spike shrugged indifferently. “Nah, I’ve got nothing. I’m only a student around here. We both are.”

“A student? Is that how one should regard a squire in these parts?”

“No, see, this place has nothing to do with orders like yours. It’s just a school.”

“Then you preserve knowledge, a noble cause! Yet I still find it strange to hold academia within castle grounds.” Gallant Gleam wasn’t letting go. “Given your aptitude you must be on your path to knighthood, correct?”

“No, we’re—you know what, yes. We are of the local Order of Gifted Individuals. We just value modesty so much we don’t brag about it.” Spike pushed the cafeteria door open. “After you, master knight.”

“I had no idea we were incorporated,” Merrot said on the side. “Just-Spike, what is it that we’re doing? This guy is out of time, out of place, and out of our jurisdiction. Would it not be better to contact the Royal Guard and let them escort him to the Princess?”

“And what, go back to this?” Spike waved his textbook. “No way. If he somehow traveled a thousand years into the future then he’s a literal font of knowledge about the ancient Crystal Empire. He probably knows things that aren’t even in the books. Tell me that you’d rather read it all over again. Tell me that your brain isn’t melting and I’ll gladly point him to the nearest post. Just think about it. When was the last time you could actually experience history like that?”

“Last month at the Castle of the Two Sisters.”

His mouth open, Spike raised his claw to rebuke the argument, but words failed him much to Merrot’s impending gloat.

“Nevertheless,” the changeling continued, “your logic is sound and I agree that by spending more time with him we can only gain, and I myself can’t say I’m not intrigued by this knight culture. Got to admit though, I’m a little surprised to see you so keen on studying history all of a sudden.”

“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong, history still sucks. But I’ll take it if it comes with an extra adventure on the side. Might be fun.”

“Adventure? Fun?” Merrot placed his hoof on the door. “Aren’t you short a horn for such an attitude?”

Compared to the distinctive flair of the outside, the cafeteria interior was bland. Round tables with seats in the form of rings fixed around each of them occupied the room. There was a path carved through the middle leading to the serving zone, a few strategically placed bins, and a teacher’s table equipped with regular chairs, tablecloth and enough napkin-packed holsters to keep it clean for a year. It even had dedicated salts and peppers, something which was always three tables away regardless of where the grey masses chose to sit.

Gallant Gleam doffed his helmet and was making his way between the tables, inadvertently pushing them left and right.

“A curious decor for a tavern, young masters,” he said louder than it was necessary, and in doing so attracted curious glances from the few students present. “I presume this is for day meals only? I imagine no feasting here after sundown, not without at least a few torches, and certainly not on those tables. They do not seem suitable for heavy dining! Nonetheless, it would explain your figure, master Spike. I understand master Merrot is dining better elsewhere?” he asked, to which Merrot’s cheeks went as red as his eyes. “Not to worry, I appreciate a decent meal myself, preferably with bards playing for ambience. But where are your bards? Where is the music? Where are your fair maidens?” he demanded, looking around. “Ah! I retract my last!”

An apple rolled across the floor. Gallant Gleam was quick to grab it, wipe with a monogrammed handkerchief, and offer back with due courtesy.

Silk Stocking was wearing some brand new garments—rocking them, in fact—which Spike could only accurately describe because Rarity had spent quite some time talking about her upcoming autumn collection. That particular piece was the Carousel Enterprises exclusive blue sweater made of cashmere, with a silver zipper and something called a funnel neck or ‘all the rage this season, darling’, to quote the expert. Edition so limited Rarity claimed the chances of any two ponies attending the same party wearing it were practically nonexistent. She also claimed it would be impossible to ignore a girl sporting such an ensemble.

Darn, if she wasn’t right. It matched Silk Stocking’s slender figure nicely and made her look almost appealing, all the more when she accepted the fruit with a shade of abashment on her perfect demeanor.

“Oh? Thank you, mister…?”

“Sir Gallant Gleam, Knight Protector of the Crystal Empire and a humble servant for righteousness within the Order of the Crystal Lily,” the pony recited and laid a gentle kiss on Silk’s hoof. “At your service, my lady.”

Abashment bloomed into blush, but the filly must have recalled her roots as she quickly straightened up into a proper pose. “You bear a most impressive title, and your refinement is like a breath of fresh air.” She bobbed a curtsy to him. “I am Silk Stocking, daughter of Prince Blueblood and Duchess Satin Frill. To what do we owe the pleasure of having you in Canterlot, Sir Gallant?”

“I have come to seek advice from wise Princess Celestia, may her reign be prosperous and even longer. My visit shall be brief. I expect to return to the Crystal Empire with haste.”

“Aw, that’s unfortunate. I’d love to have my father introduce you to some of the more distinguished personas around, and should you ever grew tired of their company, I’d be happy to show you around the city myself.”

“You honor me with your hospitality.” He was overusing his bows to ridicule. “I would be very much in favor of staying for at least a day longer to acquaintance him and to see the wonders your land has to offer. Yet I have a feeling, had I stayed for a day, neigh, a week, it would still be not enough to fully appreciate your exquisite grace, my lady!” he said, eliciting a surprised but still dignified chuckle from the filly. “Young masters here are helping me around, at least. They were already kind enough to show me the artistry of the statue garden.”

“Oh, were they now?” Silk Stocking’s tone turned dismissive. “Well, I suppose for every knight there’s a dragon to match. I see that your company has improved by large, Spike. I always knew you were worth more than to hang out with the losers’ league.”

Yeah, she was pretty—and that was coming from someone who spent a good chunk of his youth surrounded by beautiful mares—but she also had that annoying tendency of opening her mouth and talking.

“At least I have someone to hang out with, Silk,” he retorted with his arms crossed.

The filly gave a belittling laughter. “Nice try, but I do have friends, and in high places too. I really don’t need spares around here. Besides, if you want something done…”

“You call your father to do it?” Merrot interjected, but that didn’t even rustle Silk Stocking’s composure.

“No, silly.” Cupping his chin, she granted him a venomous smile. “You call other changelings with whom you share history.”

Merrot’s face twitched as he chuckled nervously.

“Hey, uh, what are you doing here on the weekend, anyway?” Spike cut in between them. “Weren’t you supposed to go on a trip or something? You’ve mentioned it like several times.”

“Unfortunately, we had to cancel our flight due to a minor issue with the engine. Something about… honestly, I couldn’t care less about what’s leaking from where.” She shrugged and hovered her Across the Ages 1 and other belongings closer. “Not a great loss, I suppose, especially with the upcoming exam. Which reminds me, since you’ve been behaving so well lately”—she leaned towards them, the scent of her perfume rich and intoxicating—“I heard that Professor Little Tale has prepared an entirely new set of questions, which means the ones from the previous years have become… obsolete.”

“Oh, have they now?” Spike mocked her own tone.

“Indeed they have, which means those who are merely trying to memorize the basics instead of learning the material itself will most likely fail. They will become a laughing stock of our class and, in consequence, the entire society.” She sighed melancholically. “But I suppose it’s all the same to you, climbing the ladder or tumbling down, given that you’re already sticking with certain ponies commonly considered as, let’s say, less than capable?” Waiting not for the answer, she turned to the knight and nodded him goodbye. “Until next time, Sir Gallant. Please enjoy your stay in our little center of the world.”

“I shall enjoy it greatly, lady Silk. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Yeah, Razzle sends her best too!” Spike called on parting.

Silk Stocking gave them a fleeting look. “Don’t we all?” She nibbled the apple and left.

Merrot grabbed himself by the head. “Alright, alright, after how precautious I’ve been and after all my careful planning, just HOW ON DEPTHS did she find out about the last year’s test? Do you think Tale-Little has really prepared an alternate version? With new questions? What are we supposed to do, take it on without preparing first? Without knowing them?” he moaned on the verge of hyperventilating. “Oh, we are doomed. All is lost!”

“Hey, take it easy, tough guy,” Spike reassured him and handed him a few bits. “We’ll think of something later, don’t worry about it. Right now, how about you go get us something, okay?”

“Yes, yes. That I can do. I-I just strongly dislike surprises, is all. I will be back in a moment…”

Gallant Gleam squeezed himself at the table. “Master Merrot is indeed very different from the changelings I’ve encountered. He does not strike me as inherently… dangerous.”

“Only to himself.”

The tried and tested way to calm Merrot down was to give him money. Not that he was a spoiled brat who lived from one broken toy to another, but because the idea of monetary transactions was as alien to changelings as they themselves used to be to ponies. According to Merrot, the internal dealings of the Hive didn’t need coverage in gold or bank notes as all changelings shared their skills and sought no personal wealth. They only needed bits to conduct business with the surface, and even then they felt like they were trading worthless piles of yellow and paper for something of feasible value.

It was always funny to watch Merrot do shopping, but he needed someone less naive to make sure he’s not spending too much. Spike knew both the value of coin and the immense pleasure of amassing it, which was why he’d cashed in a few of the Dominion’s rare gemstones shortly upon his arrival. So far he hadn’t had any major expenses and wasn’t expecting any to come up.

He was just bread-clearing the bowl of a decent mushroom stew when Gallant Gleam put his own down.

“Delicious! While I am glad I was spared a millennium of hunger to sate, I’m convinced this would have done for at least a couple of decades.” He leaned over the table. “However, it did not go unnoticed that you haven’t shown proper respect towards lady Silk. It pierces my soul to see such little consideration in that matter from two young gentle-persons. What gives?”

Spike belched. “ ‘Scuse me. She’s not that kind of a lady and her dad’s not a real prince, I think. She’s just someone who doesn’t get along with our friend, so she’s getting it back in kind.”

“Royalty or not, she remains a lady in the eyes of a knight,” Gallant Gleam adamantly replied. “I am willing to believe that many great things have changed since my times, but fillies and mares alike have to be held in high regard regardless of circumstances, always. There’s no honor in treating them unkindly upon even a chance meeting! Pardon me for saying that, but ‘not getting along’ is a fool’s excuse,” he added. “More so, one has to remain ready to serve and look after those mares, if not of goodness of heart then to temper the virtues of humility and patience. How else are you going to find a lady of your heart if not by being knightly?”

Merrot raised his hoof. “I have a related question. Let us assume, clearly theoretically, that there is a lady whom someone I know would like to call the lady of his heart. Would becoming a knight help him capture her attention?”

“It certainly would, but it is no title with which he should aspire to woo her. He has to be virtuous. He must not tell lies. He must be ready to protect her. He must swear himself to her service and be ready to carry her burdens when she so desires. Above all else, he must not expect anything but her smile in return, for the service has to fill every fiber of his being. He has to have heart!” Gallant Gleam said, slamming his chest with a loud rustle. “Is the said assumed lady of pleasurable looks?”

“Yes—I mean—I think, because, you know, I’m asking for a friend.” When Gallant Gleam pointed questioningly at the notebook Merrot had been filling with his every word, the changeling couldn’t hide his embarrassment. “He, uh, he has short memory.”

“Well, if your friend is to become a knight, I wish him all the best. There are many ways of approaching the subject: he can become an excellent lancer like Sir Quicksilver whose famous charge at the Galloping Gorge sealed the Empire’s victory over rogue yaks. Or he can be more of a scholar like Sir Glass Jasper, if he seeks no glory in battle, and come up with an even better ointment for cracked cheeks. Now that’s how you capture Chancellor Crystalline Arrow’s daughter’s attention! He can even become a Knight Protector of his own land if that’s what his heart desires. All are difficult roads, but satisfaction from following them is immeasurable.” He raised his cup. “I propose a toast to all who follow and will follow the most noble of paths. To them, and to the ladies of our hearts! Master Spike, join us!”

Raising his cup, Spike thought about… things. Yeah, finding some dreamed up ‘lady of his heart’ definitely wasn’t high on his to-do list.

For once!


* * *


Getting two civilians plus a steel hulk into the castle required facing tons of rules and regulations, none of which made it any easier to get an audience. A single, unscheduled visitor could usually invoke the right to be heard by their sovereign and thus skip the formalities, but groups of two or more, the nature of which was not homogenous, with the exclusion of diplomatic or cultural entourages pre-authorized and put on the list at least a week yada yada yada could not just march in and hope for the best.

That’s just for starters, because all military personnel that wasn’t part of the Royal Guard or its subdivisions—which effectively extended to every armed individual from outside Equestria—had to either present a safe conduct with an up to date stamp proving the supplicant’s right to represent the interests of their country, or had to apply to be willfully relieved of any and all equipment of pointy nature. Having Gallant Gleam get the former would take days spent on a wonderful bureaucratic tour around the Crystal Empire, but asking him for the latter was received as borderline rude.

On top of all that, more personal obstacles arose.

“Ugh, not that guy again.” Spike halted with the Perihelion Gate in the distance. “Well, there goes my plan of talking our way through.”

“What, you know him?” Merrot asked.

“Since last week, kind of. You know how I like throwing pebbles at the lake?”

“Indeed. Your hit-to-miss ratio is downright depressing.”

“I’m getting better. The point is, that guy didn’t like it. Said something about disturbing peace.” Spike shrugged innocently. “I mean, I may have set some on fire, but what I think really pissed him off was me talking back. Calling him ‘Commander Beard’ too, I think. They should let you and Sir Gallant meet with the Princess no problem, but I’m out.”

“Abandoning a companion? This shall not stand!” Gallant Gleam protested. “A dragon of your aptitude must have certain connections!”

“I doubt that even telling them I know Twilight would help. I guess we could wait, but the next changing of the guard comes at five, I think.”

“Six,” Merrot murmured. He mulled over something deeply, his frown betraying the gears whirring inside. “Just-Spike, a word, please. I… may have an alternative solution. Your bearded friend there”—he nodded at the gate undergoing its personnel’s thorough inspection—“his name is actually Second Lieutenant Wave Heart of the Third Warder Division. He has recently returned from Yakyakistan where he has been, you guessed it, warding off the dangers of ice and snow,” Merrot chuckled. “Just look at him polishing their badges. Rumor has it he is next in line for promotion, so naturally he wants to keep his record untarnished. Therefore, I am positive I can get all three of us into the castle via, uh, unconventional means.”

Spike looked at him inquisitively.

“Unconventional how?”

“Straightforward for me, likely disturbing for you.”

“You’re hiding any more tests somewhere, is that what you’re saying?”

“Something along the lines,” the changeling replied. “Do you trust me?”

Spike tucked their morning clash at the back of his mind and he wasn’t sure he wanted to get back to it right now. What intrigued him still was Merrot’s fishy knowledge about the Royal Guard.

“On occasions.”

“Let us hope now is one of those times. Wait here—I’ll be back momentarily.”

Merrot fluttered away, leaving Spike at the mercy of Gallant Gleam’s reminiscing about his own trusted companions. Spike found it valuable rather than boring. Some historical figures mentioned were known to him, others less so, but getting additional insights straight from the horse’s mouth was a blessing he sought. Perhaps Lady Knowledge struck a deal with Lady Luck and he wasn’t going to flunk history… or perhaps it was just wishful thinking.

Merrot was yet to return when a bulky guardspony came in his place.

“Mr. Spike! My name is Root Primer,” the guard spoke in a sufficiently post-adolescent voice. “I received a message from your incredibly smart and handsome friend Piro-Merrot that you require my assistance. I am here to escort you both to Her Majesty.”

Spike trailed his claws across his face. This was never going to work.

“A proper entourage, how wonderful!” Gallant Gleam cheered. “I shall say, you don a well-crafted armor, kind sir. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Sir Gallant Gleam, Knight Protector—”

“Yes, yes, a pleasure,” Root Primer cut him off and hastily shook the knight’s hoof, whispering to Spike on the side. “Superb, so now he respects me. Should’ve become a Warrior .”

Gallant Gleam did a double-take. “Hold on a moment! Master Merrot?” He backed off, affronted. “Is it necessary to resort to disguises and trickery to request an audience these days? Master Spike, do talk some sense to him—does that not strike at your feeling of integrity? I desire to meet the Sun Princess, true, but by sacrificing our nobility, cheating like that? Is this the way of a noble knight!”

“You tell me. Would you rather leave a companion behind or take a little detour around the truth with him?”

Gallant Gleam’s cheeks dulled, losing their shine in a way a non-crystal pony would turn pale, but he said nothing.

At the gate, two halberds crossed before them.

“Halt! State your business,” one of the guards barked.

“Private Root Primer of the Reserves!” their escort replied, saluting. “Sir Gallant Gleam of the Crystal Empire here and his aide Spike the Dragon of the SGI would like to request an audience. The former has an inquiry of importance for the Princess.”

“We don’t have any official visits from the Empire scheduled for today. Is any of them in the Royal Guard? Are they part of a group? Did you go through the processing first? Does he have the papers? Diplomatic immunity? Anything?” the guard questioned to which Root Primer nodded several negatives. “Then you know I cannot let him roam around the castle, definitely not armed like that. You need to follow the procedures, deposit his belongings first and get them both on the foreigners list.”

“I’m technically Canterlotian, hatched and raised. I have rights,” Spike pointed out, but was promptly ignored.

“Of course, I see why you normally couldn’t let us in,” Root Primer said, “but believe me, this is a textbook situation. Sir Gallant Gleam is eligible to invoking the regulations regarding, quote, ‘brief foreign visitors of special consideration’. That’s exception 22-9-16, since he’s been working with the school’s best and brightest directly. So, if we classify his belongings as teaching aides and if I get assigned ad-hoc as palace escort for him and the dragon, I think we can undercut the proverbial branch of procedures?”

The guard’s eyes went blank as he searched his mental catalogue. “Mhm, yes, you’re technically right, provided that his cultural contribution was considerable,” he admitted and measured the knight. “What is your field of expertise, sir?”

“I am versed in the Empire’s history and chivalric traditions,” Gallant Gleam replied proudly. “Warfare and tactics too, to a certain degree.”

“No kidding! They’re teaching kids such things?”

“Probably for extra credit,” Root Primer joked.

“Should be obligatory,” the other guard joined. “A few laps around Gooseberry Fields never did anyone any harm, eh?” 

The first one winced. “Speak for yourself, Steelstar. But yeah, I’ve never been much of a bookworm, either,” he admitted. “As for you, you still need a clearance from the LT. Stay here.”

Root Primer’s nod for Spike was ever so subtle.

Over the course of that short talk, Spike had to remind himself several times that the pony escorting them was no pony at all. Under other circumstances he’d probably recognize Merrot too, but only because he knew what to look for. Despite wearing much different colors of the coat and mane and a set of aureate armor, ‘Root Primer’ couldn’t hide the familiar chubbiness of his face or his tumbling walk, though he was minding the latter well. During PE classes, Merrot’s trot and posture resembled a loose barrel in a rocking ship’s underbelly, but when he was smoothly talking his way through the gate he straightened up, wearing an impassive expression. He was Merrot, but he was Root Primer all the same.

That dissonance brought upon an unsettling perspective. That wasn’t Merrot he knew. The Merrot he knew couldn’t go a minute without mentioning how different the pony culture and customs were. If he didn’t happen to be absolutely fascinated by something pony—like their point of view on history—he would be usually going on about how difficult it was for him to fit in. The last decade spoke in favor of that claim, as it wasn’t until very recently when changelings stopped being perceived as a silent, unknown threat. When Spike had headed out for the Dominion, they were the enemy, but by the time he was back, they were more or less welcome, even if some were struggling.

But not Merrot, and not right now.

The plan was, surprisingly, working, but Spike realized how little he knew about the changeling—his friend? Something as silly as the last year’s test was nothing compared to other secrets Merrot might have been hiding.

“Hey, if it isn’t our gardener private,” Wave Heart’s deep voice broke his musing. “Roots, was it? You can stand down, soldier.”

Root Primer grinned. “LT! Good to see you in good standing, sir! I trust you’ve accustomed yourself back to our nice and clear skies?”

“Indeed I have! Yakyakistan has pretty views, but not much else, unless you’re a fan of freezing your backside off,” Wave Heart replied. “So, private, Impact's telling me you have an unscheduled VIP on board? Explain.”

“Affirmative, sir. Sir Gallant Gleam of the Crystal Empire has been dedicating his time and energy to the students of the SGI, teaching them the ancient history of his homeland. He expressed a wish to meet with Her Royal Highness and, in his own words, offer gratitude to the leader of the kingdom he’s passing through. The school knows that it is highly irregular, but given the urgency, I took upon myself to escort him. I do hope I’m not overstepping any boundaries of my rank, sir! Given the regulations regarding brief foreign visitors of special consideration—”

“Ah, yes, I see where you’re going with this. The nine-sixteen, right? Good thinking, private! There’s nothing to appreciate more in a fellow soldier than his readiness to take initiative.” He patted him on the back, to which Root Primer proudly clanged his boots together, almost growing an inch in posture. Wave Heart’s eyes then narrowed, but the warding stare was not aimed at the guard. “However, I’m not sure about allowing vandals into the castle.” He stopped by Spike, not even minding the height difference between them. “Hello, dragon. Explain to me, if you will, how is that of all students you were chosen to represent your school? Set the school board on fire, have you?”

Blood boiled in Spike’s veins. Grr. It would take just one breath, a single cough of melting flames, a mere string of immolation to evoke the respect he deserved…

“Spike the Dragon has been chosen due to his past contributions to the Empire, sir,” Root Primer quickly said. “I was assured he’s the right dragon for the job. Isn’t that right, Mr. Spike?”

The weight of the words sobered him. Whoa. That got too close for comfort, and was the second time today—or third, or fourth, it’s not like he was counting those—when he wanted to fix his problems by force. It was like that one time when he grew into a greedy beast, only that now he wasn’t after anything of material value, but rather after a show of force for its own sake. Wrong, cried a voice inside him, a voice of a baby dragon terrified by the perspective of subjugating the entire arcane realms to his own needs, of what he could achieve. But a shadow lurked around that dragon, bringing forth curiosity and excitation in equal measure.

It was just a matter of one breath…

Spike fiddled with his ring—a reflex he’d developed to trick himself into thinking that Twilight was watching him. It worked like a charm for his less diplomatic tendencies, most of the time.

“What is it going to be, Mr. Spike?” Wave Heart echoed the question.

“Yes, of course.” Spike shrunk into himself and brought his voice to the absolute limits of its gentleness. “I’m not going to cause you any trouble, sir, and for what it’s worth, I apologize for my behavior that day. The school grounds, the lake, that’s for everyone to enjoy and I should have known better than to make a mess of it. But I really want to make up for that. Helping Sir Gallant around is just the opportunity I need to work on my responsibility. I promise I won’t touch a thing!”

“I find it hard to believe,” the cold response was.

“If I may, lieutenant,” Gallant Gleam interjected. “While I would never want to usurp the right to having a say in that matter before you, master Spike has been nothing if not keen on helping since we were introduced. For that, I shall vouch with my knightly oaths.”

Wave Heart took a sweet moment considering it.

“Very well,” he finally said. “Private, your orders are to escort the VIP and his entourage to the Throne Room, wait for as long as necessary, then escort them back to the school grounds. I better not see a fire brigade storming the castle on my watch. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Spike, Root Primer, and Gallant Gleam all exclaimed, each with his own dose of zealotry.


* * *


Vast interiors of the Royal Castle hadn’t changed a bit, except maybe for the length of corridors which Spike found shorter and less spacious. The ponies had long perfected the process of fixing whatever was becoming old, tattered, or otherwise strained over time, so carpets and stained glass looked just like ten years ago, possibly a hundred, but probably not as far as one additional order of magnitude ago. Spike made a mental note to ask Princess Celestia whether she had been redecorating a lot, say every century when she was getting bored with the decor.

“That went better than I expected,” Root Primer said, his voice echoing across the hallway. “For a moment I thought I would have to call in the favor the lieutenant owes Root, but I am glad we have conserved that resource.”

His casual attitude was but a straw compared to how he’d just posed as a Royal Guard and tricked the ponies whose exact job was to not let things like that happen, but it was that straw which broke Spike’s limit of disturbing things for the day.

“Alright, stop.” He dragged him into a side corridor. “First a fake librarian and now this? This isn’t right, Merrot. You can’t just snoop around Canterlot impersonating others. It’s, you know, kind of illegal.”

“Like I said: likely disturbing for you,” the changeling replied. “Don’t worry, Just-Spike. What precludes my actions from qualifying as a crime is that the identities are purely synthetic. Social harm equals zero! No one’s image gets harmed and they are easier to dispose of if necessary, though to be fair, Root Primer is enjoying a rather long lifespan.”

“So you’re a spy.”

“I wish! No, I only assume disguises to learn what Equestria has to offer. As a mere student I cannot experience everything, but I’m no spy.” Green flames burst from under the armor, changing Root Primer’s white coat into Merrot’s black carapace. “I am no spy,” he repeated.

“That’s not how I see it. Hey, Sir Gallant, a question. How would you call a changeling who impersonates a guard to get through a gate?”

“A quick thinker, perhaps?” Gallant Gleam looked away evasively. “I mean, uh, I don’t presume to know local customs, but that clever ruse got us into the palace rather efficiently, so we can carry on with our quest without much delay. Sometimes it’s all that will matter.”

“You’re not helping.” Spike took a step back into the main corridor and looked around. So far not a single guard had been attracted by their exchange, but the echo was gladly carrying their voices to the far ends of the castle. “Tell me something, and better be honest this time,” he said quietly. “Did Queen Chrysalis made you gather dirt on Equestria? Is the treaty a smokescreen before another invasion? Are you and other changelings here to find weaknesses in the Royal Castle defenses?”

“No, I wouldn’t know, and not unless I’m greatly misinformed, respectively.” Merrot frowned under the helmet which wasn’t falling over his eyes only thanks to the horn holding it in place. “And for the record, I’m not okay with you making such accusations against us. We’re only—”

“Trying to fit in, yeah, so I’ve heard a million times already. You know, there are easier ways to do that than manipulating everyone.”

“I’m not manipulating anyone!”

Spike’s laughter came as equally exaggerated as it was cruel. “Oh, are you not? Then riddle me this, because I’ve been thinking.” Without laying a single finger on Merrot, Spike pinned him to the wall with his sheer posture. “Last month. Our trip to the museum. There’s that one law of spellcasting which states that the amount of magic an object can contain is proportional to its mass. Of course, unless that supposed Element of Harmony wasn’t really a ruby and had some crazy density it clearly broke that law, but the flower at which we were aiming was small and light, like the gemstones surrounding it. My question is”—he paused, watching with satisfaction as the changeling gulped—“did you really need that extra love energy, or did you just want a hug from Razzle?”

Merrot’s cheeks blazed furiously, but otherwise he kept his game face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied swiftly. “The exact amount of energy to power up the circuit was unknown, so over-preparing was logical, and so was choosing Lula-Razzle who, as a pony—”

Spike waved dismissively. “Yeah, shut up. It’s obvious you like her like her…”

“I-I believe I am allowed to pursue interactions with whomever I deem interesting!”

“And you asked Sir Gallant all those things ‘for a friend’, right…”

“I can only assume the lady in question is someone truly special,” Gallant Gleam cut in. “Master Merrot indeed seems to hold her in high regard.”

“You’re not helping!” Merrot yelped. “So what if I do? I checked the SGI regulations several times and found nothing against liking liking other students.”

“And what does it say about lying to them?”

“I never lied to her!” Merrot replied, offended by the piercing implication in Spike’s voice.

“Yes, you did.” Spike wouldn’t back down. “You told her hugs aren’t part of your culture, but guess what? I’ve met changelings before. Hugs are part of every culture! Even dragons hug.” Spike watched Merrot’s composure melting with his every word. The changeling murmured something about ‘may having omitted fragments of the truth’ but Spike didn’t stop there. He got to the high ground and he intended to use it. “You lied to Razzle. Who’s your friend. To get a hug. Now that’s a whole new level of desperation,” he said. “You know what? I think you’re not nearly as lost in our customs and culture as you say you are. You’re just using that to get things your way, and that’s not cool at all. So the next time I see Razzle I think I’ll just tell her all about you. Good luck getting a friendly poke of her then.”

“Shame!” Gallant Gleam added on the side. ”Lying to a guard is one thing, but lying to a lady? Shame, shame!”

“No! Please!” Merrot panicked, his voice faltering. “A-and you are wrong, it is difficult for me to fit in! There are r-reasons other than those you can infer.” In a surge of strength, he suddenly made a decent effort of pushing the dragon about half a step away. “What is it that you want from me anyway, huh? Are you still mad at me for not sharing that stupid test with you? Or are you just being jealous?”

“Of Razzle?” Spike snickered. “Give me a break.”

“Then what’s your problem? The day we first met you explicitly stated that you don’t want me to keep studying your behavior and I respected that wish. You should have clarified that gathering information in the general vicinity of the Royal Castle will be frowned upon.”

Spike threw his arms in defeat. For a pretty smart guy Merrot excelled at playing a pretty dense one

“Duh! How can you understand that spying on your classmates is bad but still think ‘gathering information’ about the Royal Guard is good?”

Merrot crossed his forelegs, his boots slipping onto the stone tiles. “From my point of view, learning about individuals around me is good. Since I have direct access to my classmates, I don’t need to be covert around them, but that will not always be the case. When I know everything about everyone, I can shape myself and adapt to their expectations, thus resulting in the highest levels of acceptance possible. With that, I can fit in without facing any adversity,” he said, then resentfully added, “But I guess the princesses’ friends and heroes like you never have to deal with such issues. If there’s a party, you’re invited by default, aren’t you?”

Spike froze. He would never say he had his life served on a silver plate, but, admittedly, his time among Equestrians wasn’t entirely not like that. But that’s only because the ponies were cute, decent folks, weren’t they? They were accepting and open-minded, and only sometimes spoke wrongly about thestrals when something went missing. Or about griffons when those were faring well and had a stable but obviously ‘stolen’ job. Or about donkeys whenever something smelled.

Woah, ponies were colossal jerks. They would probably find something on changelings too.

“Young masters, I hate to intrude your banter, but there are guards coming our way,” Gallant Gleam said.

Spike and Merrot looked upon each other wondering if they hadn’t said too much. Though Spike couldn’t read Merrot’s mind through his crimson, now glistening eyes, or the pursed lips safeguarding more revelations about his life, he wondered what was that all about, and for what. Something had gone wrong and derailed their partnership—their friendship—as evident in the stares full of pretense, wrongful accusations, and lacking understanding any two aliens in the land of ponies ought to grant to each other.

Oh, yes, if Twilight could only see him she would be so proud.

“Just-Spike, I…”

“Want some advice on how to fit in?” Spike said quietly. “Don’t make yourself look like someone you are not.” He swept the golden hoof boots off the floor. “You better suit up now, private.”

Merrot reverted back to his disguise and started talking about stained glass like they were in the middle of a sightseeing trip. Spike and Gallant Gleam played along, commenting loudly yet with great laicism, so when the patrol trotted by, they simply exchanged complimentary nods and went their respective ways.

For the trio it was the Throne Room where they were stopped and questioned, but Root Primer’s natural military conditioning—darn, he was killing it, shuffling personas so quickly!—opened the ornamented doors before them. One wing represented the night, the other the day, and judging from the miniature brass laborers carved at the bottom they had been given as a joint tribute from the city’s various guilds.

On the far end of the spacious room, no white alicorns were seated on the throne.

“Spike the Dragon!” Luna boomed from afar. “I was told you had returned from your voyages. Approach!”

Of all the Equestrian royalty, Luna commanded respect the most. Unlike her sister, she didn’t resort to clever-but-confusing tidbits of wisdom, much like she didn’t rely on friendship or love to solve problems. Her ways were unique and mysterious like the night she guarded, but no one under her protection felt the need to understand. It sufficed that she understood and knew them well. She knew their fears and desires and was tirelessly utilizing her mastery over the Dreamworld to help fulfill them or fight them off. When the moon shone across the sky and the land got shrouded by the veil of duskiness, she was becoming a figure so intimately close to the needs of common folk it was surprising she shunned seeing them in person. To those who were yet to meet her in the land of dreams, she appeared as distant, even scary, but in truth she cared for her subjects with no lesser eagerness.

Spike thought he felt a subtle vibration of magic somewhere around his head, but it was gone the moment it occurred. Luna shifted on her chair of chairs as though she was consulting its shadow.

“Your Highness.” Spike bowed and watched her reaction carefully. Boy, she looked bored. “I’d like to express our gratitude for seeing us.”

“Spike the Dragon,” Luna repeated, first maintaining official tone but then exuding pure delight. She loosened up and smiled, so the dragon followed her example. “Spike, know that you are always welcome in Canterlot. How’s school?”

“Good, good, thanks. I’m managing. We have a nasty history exam on the Crystal Empire on Monday and I still need to cram it, but hey, that’s school life!” he said. “By the way, is Princess Celestia around? I was hoping she could help us.”

“I’m afraid my sister has gone to consult a friend and is yet to return. Until then, I should prove equally qualified to assist you.” She turned to Gallant Gleam. “You’re not from around here,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Gallant Gleam looked questioningly at Spike who encouraged him to speak up. The mare on the elevated platform wasn’t the one they’d intended to meet, but perhaps that’s for the better. They needed answers, not a lesson in temporal physics.

“Indeed, Your Highness,” the knight replied. “I am Sir Gallant Gleam, Knight Protector of the Crystal Empire and a humble servant for righteousness within the Order of the Crystal Lily,” he said while Root Primer was mockingly half-mouthing his every word. “At your service.”

Luna nodded, the boredom of her expression making way for a spark of interest. “This is most intriguing, Sir Gallant. You may rise.” She turned her attention to Root Primer and beckoned. “Step up, soldier. Who you might be?”

“My name is Root Primer, Your Highness. I serve in the Royal Guard Reserves Division in the rank of private.”

Luna chuckled, watching the sole of her silver-wrapped hoof with mild disinterest. “No, no,” she said nonchalantly. “You are a changeling pretending to serve in the Royal Guard, Reserves Division, in the rank of private.”

Seeing Merrot’s wide open jaw was priceless. He had managed to trick Princess Celestia with his disguise on the day he and Spike first met—or so was their way of telling that story, as Celestia hadn’t directly called him out, so technically… maybe?—but Luna wasn’t playing any of his games. Merrot removed his helmet and morphed into his natural form that was now the epitome of embarrassment. Muzzle aiming at the checkered floor, eyes everywhere but on the alicorn, lips pursed and his hoof at the back of his head. His confidence had been crushed under one swift blow of truth.

“Good!” Luna said sternly. “Then one more time, who you might be?”

“Piro-Merrot, Y-your Highness. I-I am studying at the SGI. Q-Queen Chrysalis allowed me to a-and I really want to continue! The school’s important to me! I’m sorry I—”

A swift gesture silenced him. “Please convey my regards to the Queen should I not have a chance to pass them on myself first. And by the stars, lose that armor, you look ridiculous,” Luna ordered. “Now, I assume you have a colorful explanation for what you were attempting to pull off here, but it is neither time nor place to discuss it. There are matters at hoof which had come first and had not been taken care of in at least… a thousand years? Isn’t that right, Sir Gallant?” she asked, to which the knight nodded. “I fear I am but vaguely familiar with your Order, but I do recall that it has been banned and dissolved at the end days of the old Crystal Empire.” A glint of realization shined in her eyes. “Would you be opposed if we moved this audience to my chambers? I feel that my helpfulness in the matter will be only as good at the number of books at my disposal.”

“I don’t deserve such an honor!” Gallant Gleam exclaimed, flabbergasted. “If it pleases you, Your Highness!”

“It’s settled, then. Moonwarden!”

Like a crippled wraith, an elderly stallion emerged from the shadows behind the throne. “Yes, my lady?”

“Cancel my others. Have them come tomorrow if need be.”

The unicorn raised his grayed eyebrow. “All of them, my lady?”

“Yes, all of them,” Luna replied, then added as an afterthought, “How many petitioners were we expecting today?”

“I shall make the currents mark the sum total.” Moonwarden summoned a blackwood cane to his side. “Allow me to excuse myself…”

Luna gave her assistant a benign eye-roll as he paddled away with his own continuous murmur to keep him company. She wasted no time to exit her royal seating—and she did so with a poorly concealed sigh of relief. Skipping the stairs jovially she joined them as a mare different than the one that had been looking down upon them, with new energy the further from the throne she got.

“Shall we go, Sir Gallant? I’ve always had a great interest in the past and I’m looking forward to learning about your Order. Spike, you’re welcome to join as well if you so desire. I recall something about you being in need of a history lesson?”

Spike grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that, Princess. I’ve already learned more from Sir Gallant than from the books.”

Which was true, even if the amount of knowledge accrued from Across the Ages 1 was orbiting Planet Null.

“C-can I come too, Your Highness?” Merrot asked timidly.

“Ha! Like you’ve had any other say in the matter.” Luna snickered. “Onwards!”


* * *


“Make yourselves comfortable.” Luna invited them in.

Crossing the threshold caused a twofold impact, and that’s beyond just considering the two floors which constituted the chamber. The first strike was about visuals. Moving from white stone enveloping the corridors to jet black marble covering the walls of Luna’s study was a significant change in scenery. The Royal Castle was maintained with a choice of warm, inviting colors, but that one room must have been the interior decorator’s moody manifest against omnipresent brightness. Even the furniture was made of dark wood lightened only by silver ornaments. The room would be dim if it weren’t for slender windows climbing up the wall to the high ceiling. The higher they went, the color of the walls changed, as marble was smoothly turning into dark blue, purple, and into a fresco of the night sky with its many constellations, each properly labeled with its common and scientific names.

The second strike revolved around sounds, or lack thereof. Conversations and hoofsteps had been echoing outside due to long, empty spaces, but the walls inside weren’t nearly as naked. The entire second floor separated from the chamber’s lower half with curving balconies was covered with bookcases bending under the weight of tomes, grimoires, and occasional loose rolls of parchment sticking out between them.

Spike had seen quite a few methods of organizing books in his life, but Luna’s collection was using none of them. Never before had he visited her personal study, and he doubted Twilight had done so recently. Otherwise, there would be some order in here, unless of course she’d have decided to make use of the pillows scattered on the noise-cancelling navy blue rugs and to forget about the world. Which she did on occasions.

For all who weren’t in the mood for a lecture awaited an elegant chessboard with ongoing skirmish on display and a few cabinets with various memorabilia, tokens of gratitude gifted to the Princess of the Night.

Luna placed her crown on the desk. “Don’t stand at attention like that. We need not to be formal in here,” she chuckled and trotted along the bookshelves. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Sir Gallant, but I was led to believe that all those adhering your Order’s ways had faced a most unpleasant fate. Yet here I see you, alive and well. I can’t help but wonder what brings a fine cavalier such as yourself to Canterlot in this day and age?”

Gallant Gleam pulled himself a chair. “I wish I could know that, Princess. As you can tell, I come from a different time, a different place, so the moment young master Spike helped me realized that, I thought it wise to consult someone who still remembers the past. I thought of your sister first, for which I beg forgiveness,” he said, but Luna didn’t seem to mind. “I feel like I have slept through ‘yesterday’ and awakened ‘now’ only to see the world in much different hues than it used to be. An impossible slumber to last a millennium.”

A slight smile arched across Luna’s lips. “I can imagine the feeling. Go on.”

The old knight’s stare became absent. “I remember a much different yesterday than the ponies of today. A yesterday in which the Crystal Empire is harassed by monsters of ice and frost descending from the mountains, by witches and their vile rituals, and by the threat that were the changelings”—he extended his hoof at Merrot—“who are quite noble fellows, as it appears. In my yesterday, the Order was tasked with keeping those dangers at bay. Yet in my today, which is but ancient history for the young masters, the state of things has changed.”

“How big was the Order, anyway?” Merrot asked.

“Not that grand in numbers. A hundred souls at its best days.”

“They preferred quality over quantity.” Luna beckoned them closer. “Come.”

She thumped a heavy tome on the table. Held together with iron clasps, The Histories Gathered were adorned with beautiful illuminations of every topic the author found worth tackling. It was likely a one-of-a-kind publication, coming from the times before printing presses or even carved woodblocks, when in secluded monasteries ponies would rewrite and redraw everything by hoof. Such a career was teaching humility if nothing else, and came with sets of patched robes and simplistic lifestyle. A dragon would never muster enough patience to sit down to be an ascetic, but it wasn’t exactly where Spike saw himself in ten years.

Luna weaved a tale from passages and figures. “Listen well. Years into the rule of Princess Amore, a threat’s been made against the Crystal Empire: an army of pony-like creatures clad in black carapaces marched at the city. The defenders fought and won, losses notwithstanding, but great unrest fell upon the citizens. They were afraid that the enemy would return one day and impersonate their neighbors, even family members, and take away their love and lives. So they began accusing each other of being in league with the changelings, persecuting the innocent, and even hunting the popular in that times practitioners of witchcraft,” Luna said. “Much like the Tribes, the Empire had their own ‘dark ages’ as well.”

Gallant Gleam cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Your Highness, one cannot blame them for their want of a safe sleep.”

“Distrust shields us better than an armor of steel, does it not?” Luna turned the page to an illumination of a pony confusingly similar to Gallant Gleam himself. “To protect her subjects, the Crystal Princess has called for a new group to be formed. The Order of the Crystal Lily was constituted by the bravest and most skilled fighters of the Empire, as well as scholars—Equestrian ones as well—who would share their knowledge on how to best combat the threat, changeling or otherwise.” She reached the end of the passage. “Sadly, this is everything there is. Historians generally agree that it must have been the change in the Empire’s leadership which caused the Order to disappear from the pages of history, so to speak, but there is no definite proof of that.” She glanced up at the stallion. “What really happened to the Order?”

“Treason,” Gallant Gleam said coldly. “A threat grew amidst our very ranks, and although the Order prospered and performed its duty well, we were blind to what was to come. For you see, the line between zealotry and fanaticism is thin, and when protecting your loved ones from the monsters they fear, it is all too easy to go astray and join their ranks. Then, even a noble quest for knowledge turns into a pursuit of power. Of vengeance.”

“Vengeance?” Spike echoed with a shiver of excitement going down his spine. “On whom? The changelings? The Empire? Equestria?”

Tendrils of insecurity slithered into the room, but no one dared to cut them, or the knight’s recount short.

Gallant Gleam heaved a tired sigh. “I shall never forget the disappointment in his eyes,” he said faintly. “Once, there was a scholar who came to aid us. He was brilliant, devoted to the cause like no other, both in heart and mind—and mind you, he was of Equestrian descent, so he didn’t have to concern himself with us crystal ponies. When the enemy returned, we won many battles thanks to his insights. One day, he claimed he found a pattern in those random acts of violence, and that the next attack would be launched at Gleam’s Folly, a village on the outskirts of the Empire. He… he asked me to spare more troops to defend it. As a Knight Protector and a member of the Order I commanded a small taskforce stationed at the Empire’s heart, but I refused the call. I believed he was letting his personal feelings get in the way of what our scouts had reported. Alas, he was right. All he said would happen, happened. The changelings attacked Gleam’s Folly, and in that attack, his loved one met her end.”

“A painful experience… now it makes sense…” Luna whispered. “What was her name?”

“Radiant Hope, our hospitaler.” Gallant Gleam smiled at the memory. “A young mare, pure and innocent. We all cherished her company and every youth wanted to become the stallion of her heart, but when she gave it to the scholar we couldn’t be happier for them. They were a lovely couple.”

“He must have taken it hard when she died,” Merrot said.

“He couldn’t see past the loss. He blamed Equestria for staying idle, the Empire for not doing enough to protect its citizens, and he held the Order, and me personally, responsible for lady Radiant’s passing,” he said. “Soon the war was over, but his crusade against your race had only begun. His scholar logic kept him sane just long enough for him to find a final solution to the changeling threat, but when he presented his plan to Princess Amore, he did not find the understanding he was hoping for. In her wisdom, she did not share his extreme views.”

“How extreme are we talking about?”

“They spoke behind closed doors, but it is safe to assume we would not be having this conversation had he gotten his way, master Merrot. He inferred the Empire was weak because of that, and so did many others who shared his radical policies, who like him couldn’t move on after their personal losses.” Gallant Gleam walked to the chessboard by the window, not even to look outside but to hide tears coming to his eyes. He was shaking. “In a matter of weeks he reached out to them and gained enough power and followers to challenge the Princess… and to take her place.”

The world went dizzy for a moment.

“King Sombra!” Spike exclaimed. “The scholar was King Sombra!”

“That wasn’t in the books!” Merrot sprang in shock only to fall between the pillows a moment later. “What history lesson!”

“Indeed.” Luna might not have been as vocal as the two students, but her raised eyelids told enough about how impressed she was. “On behalf of Equestria and all those seeking knowledge in the past, I thank you for sharing this story with us, Sir Gallant. The last days of the old Crystal Empire have always been a mystery to us. My sister and I, we only knew that a tyrant born of Equestrian soil had arisen and that he must be stopped, but we never learned the exact reason behind his malicious deeds. Until now,” she said. “Moreover, now we can attribute our lacks in material about the Order to King Sombra himself. I imagine he would rather have us forget you rather than remember as valiant heroes you were.”

“Valiant heroes, my flanks!” Gallant Gleam exploded. “I should have given him what he asked for! I should have listened to him! When he staged his coup, I should have been blown to pieces, not Princess Amore, but I chose to hide like a coward! The fall of the Empire—all that happened—it’s all on ME!” He turned around and swept the pieces off with one swift motion. White queen fell and black king followed, bishop did her best to protect her pawns, but the black tide buried them all beneath. Knights got scattered and rooks were nowhere to be found. 

The air in the chamber crackled as Luna summoned her crown back.

“CONTAIN YOURSELF, SIR GALLANT!” she boomed, putting the knight’s rant to shame. He cowered at her hooves, bracing for another cry, but Luna needed to shout once and once only. She seated herself face to face and gently unwrapped him from under his forelegs. “Sir Gallant,” she said softly, “there is no use pondering what would or would not have happened had we made our choices differently. Whether we’re ready or not, in the right or in the wrong, nightmares will come and go regardless,” she added and encouraged him to get up. “If all we did was blame ourselves for not stopping the monsters of yesterday, we would never pay any attention to the tomorrow ahead of us. And if it’s not the better tomorrow we want to see, then why fight at all?”

A pensive silence descended upon the chamber, completing the quiet trifecta with its peaceful and eerie sisters.

Gallant Gleam slowly collected himself into his original dignity.

“I understand, Your Highness.”

“You do?” Luna asked in mild surprise. “Huh, someone’s sister would be proud,” she added under her breath.

“Yes, I mean, I think. The Order may be no more, but at least I survived. I have a tomorrow to look forward to.”

“Which still raises the question,” Merrot said. “How exactly have you fled King Sombra’s wrath?”

“Well, it was the night before summer solstice. The twelve of us that remained, the last dozen I’d been given command over, gathered in the Nephrite Forest. Our plan was to find allies outside the Empire. Equestrians, yaks, griffons… anyone who could help us deal with the foul usurper. We knew we wouldn’t simply flee the Empire as his influence over the Crystal Guard had corrupted their numbers. Our best chance was a ruse not unlike what master Merrot was kind to demonstrate today,” he said, unabashed by Merrot’s desperate pantomime. When Luna looked back, the changeling was looking around innocently. “Thankfully, we could rely on a supporter who wielded considerable power even after the coup. Her name was Jade Echo. She was—”

“The last marshal of the Crystal Empire,” Spike blurted out.

“Indeed! I applaud your historical aptitude, master Spike!” Gallant Gleam said and Merrot snickered. “Jade Echo came up with a plan to, quite literally, smuggle us across the border as statues. The idea was to tell the Crystal Guard that the king didn’t wish to see any mention of the Order ever again, but that there’s a buyer in Canterlot who would pay a good price for such decorations. The gate guards had to be convinced as well, but a corrupted heart hears the jingle of coin well. Luckily, the marshal had both that and a family dealing with magical creatures, so she brought—”

“A cockatrice,” Merrot said. “Of course! Jade Echo changed you into statues by making you look into the eyes of a cockatrice. But wait, you told us you didn’t know how you landed in the future!”

Gallant Gleam’s crystalline cheeks shined with red hue. “I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you, young masters. Considering the circumstances under which we met, I wasn’t sure if I could trust either of you.”

“So that statue really was missing…” Spike said to himself. “Smart.”

Merrot blinked. “Sma—what? Is that all you’ve got to say? ‘Smart’? He utilized a false premise and used us to achieve his goals!”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Gee, I wonder where he picked that up…”

“He didn’t—I didn’t—argh, superb! So when I’m doing things like that I’m a criminal, but when a knight’s doing them he’s simply smart? Talk about double s—mhmm-HMM!”

“Please, go on,” Spike said to Gallant Gleam, tucking the changeling behind his back.

“Well, seeing that I’m here and not in the Empire, the plan worked for the most part, only that we were supposed to be de-stoned only a few days later. Jade Echo would slay the cockatrice and thus reverse its enchantment, but it seems it lasted quite a while longer in my case.”

“Clearly, something went wrong,” Luna followed a train of thoughts around the table. “Whoever is turned into stone by a cockatrice’s gaze ceases to be so the moment the beast perishes. Hmm. Celestia and I had set up several barriers around the city after we learned about King Sombra’s rule but before we headed out to deal with him. Theoretically, those could have infused the effect to last even longer. Considering the magical nature of Canterlot, even a thousand years.”

“What about those not in Canterlot?” Gallant Gleam asked.

“If any of your companions had been placed over a nexus of magic, they theoretically could endure as long as you did, but their placing would have to be deliberate.” She came to a halt facing the knight. “I am sorry. You may very well be the last living member of your Order, Sir Gallant.”

“Worry not. Just this morning I was told the Empire was lost in time as well, but it got better after it reemerged. I take solace in it.”

Luna answered the uneasy question that was bugging Spike. Being the last of your kind sucked a great deal, all the worse the world didn’t need changeling hunters anymore. The Order of the Crystal Lily and Gallant Gleam’s time had passed, and he himself had become a relic of the bygone days—a mere piece of trivia about which students were only learning from history books.

Spike closed the tome in front of him. He thought about his own textbook, notes, essays, classes… and he remembered.

Well, kind of.

“Merrot! Focus! What else do we know about Jade Echo? Come on, help me out, we discussed her in class, didn’t we? There was that thing in a place about her, remember?”

The changeling’s eyes widened. “By the ancestors, you’re right. You’re right! Jade Echo was captured and charged with treason on a summer solstice. Could that be the summer solstice?”

“King Sombra’s reign was brief,” Luna added. “There wouldn’t be many solstices to choose from, so it may as well be the one in question. What do you suggest?”

“I think Sir Gallant never woke up in time because Jade Echo never got rid of the cockatrice,” Spike said, for the first time inspired by the subject of history. “She was imprisoned before she could do it!”

Gallant Gleam chuckled lightly. “I do appreciate the effort, but the notion stands impossible, if heartwarming. If not by the blade, the beast would have perished of natural causes.”

“What if it was gone for a thousand years along with the Empire?”

“An astute observation!” Luna said. “Sir Gallant, I take back my last. There is a chance, however slim, that your cockatrice was frozen in time with the rest of the crystal ponies and that it breathed its last only recently. That would explain why you were unpetrified only today,” she said. “I recall only one statue reaching the castle, yours. Others must have been sent to different corners of Equestria, or perhaps to other places you mentioned. Yaks, griffons… who knows who else might be having a conversation like ours right now?”

The chair crunched dangerously when Gallant Gleam slumped into it. “But… that would mean my fellow knights would be awakening from their slumber as well! The Order lives!” He shed a happy tear, then got back to all fours with newfound energy. “I shall find and gather those who endured the trials of time and stone, be that but one soul alone, for the Lily shall not wither as long as there’s but one tending to it!” He slammed his cuirass zealously and fell to his knee. “I humbly ask for your blessing for my quest, Your Highness.”

Luna nodded. “Rise and take my blessing, Sir Gallant Gleam, Knight Protector of the Crystal Empire. Let there be known that the Order of the Crystal Lily, regardless of their count, is always welcome in Equestria as it is far and wide,” she proclaimed, then added half-seriously, “as long as they don’t raise voice at me in my quarters… or ruin my game.” She hovered the scattered pieces back onto the chessboard, each precisely where it had been before. “I’ll have it arranged to get you to the Crystal Empire where you’ll present your case to the current Crystal Princess, but not before you join tonight’s feast in your honor. Perhaps I could invite a few historians”—she threw a glance at Spike and Merrot—“and history teachers, so you could share even more about your Order? In turn, they may know something about the remaining statues.”

“With unbound pleasure! Truly, if generosity had a face, it would wear the most gentle smile of yours, Your Highness!” Gallant Gleam replied and laid a kiss of veneration on Luna’s hoof.

A slight blush came across her cheeks as she fiddled with her mane. “And they say chivalry is dead.” She raised her eyes and looked above the trio. “Did you get all that?”

“Yes, my lady,” Moonwarden said.

Spike flinched. When, or how did the old pony enter the room, he couldn’t tell. Creepy.

“Please show my guest to his chamber,” Luna commanded.

“Of course, my lady. Sir Gallant, if you please follow me…”

“Just a moment! This is where we part ways, young masters. I do hope that I’ve honored my end of our agreement and provided you with enough interesting history tidbits for your Order’s trials ahead of you.”

“You bet!” Spike grinned and shook his hoof. “Like Merrot said, that was one heck of a history lesson for us. I’d take it over our textbook any time. So, thanks—and it was really nice to meet you.”

“Likewise! And to think that our first encounter was rather fiery! Shall we agree to remember it as an anecdote for when we reunite?” he chuckled. “You’ve done me a great service, master Spike. You have a warrior’s heart and you care deeply for your friends. Such qualities make exceptional knights, and I urge you to consider this path when it opens for you.” He gave him a nudge. “As for you, master Merrot, I again apologize and I beg your forgiveness. I am proud to say that I’ve met, dined and traveled in the company of a changeling… and lived to tell the tale! Wherever I go, I shall vouch for your keen mind and amicable nature, and I shall make everyone think twice before they speak wrongly about your kind.”

“Uh, thanks! I’ll take is as a compliment—from an unquestionable source,” Merrot replied with content. “And just to be sure, because I’m still not clear on that whole truth-gate-lie thing. From a knight’s point of view, is it okay to hide certain things from others when it’s justified? I mean, I’m just saying, there may be cases in which taking the truth apart and arranging the pieces differently will be necessary, like, uh, going through the aforementioned gates, right? You wouldn’t say you lost your... knight membership card after that, would you?”

“And you’re asking these questions for a friend… or for the sake of your own enlightenment?”

“Oh, you know, for a friend of course, I mean, it’s not like a changeling could become a knight, right, haha!”

There was something off about Merrot’s nonchalance, but Gallant Gleam nodded in understanding.

“Being a knight is first and foremost about aspiring to an ideal, about bettering yourself for the good of others. But even then, life’s life and none of us is perfect. Sometimes”—he winked to Spike—“you may need to take a detour around the truth, and like with all detours, that’s where your personal moral compass comes into play. However, after seeing you today I honestly believe yours is set the right way.” He put his armored hoof on Merrot’s shoulder. The changeling’s legs wobbled. “May the lady of your heart notice you soon.” He took a step back. “Thank you, friends. Your Highness. I wouldn’t want to say ‘farewell’, so perhaps… until next time? Lead on, master Moodwarden!”

“It is ‘Moonwarden’, thank you very much,” the pony drawled dryly. “Now follow…”

Once the closing door secured the chamber’s serene quietness, Luna erupted in joyful laughter.

“Ha! That was fun! There I was, expecting yet another day of petitioners and edicts, but you two came and delivered me from boredom quite expertly. Perhaps I should enroll my sister’s school to distract myself from mundane tasks if that’s how your usual weekends look like?” she chuckled. “Anyway, this is most intriguing. I hope that Sir Gallant’s companions were preserved properly. It’s about time I passed the title of honorary fossil to someone else.” She grabbed a quill, dipped it in a crystal inkwell, and started scribbling. “I need to send a word to Cadance post-haste.”

“Do you think she’ll go searching for them?” Spike asked.

“Not in person. She and Shining Armor should focus on family matters now. If dreams taught me anything, dealing with adolescents can be tricky,” she said, spewing out another paragraph like her life depended on it. “I will see if she can spare some of her resources and if not, I will dedicate some of my own.” Luna pondered as she went into murmur. “Huh, it’s really on me this time, isn’t it? Let’s see, Cadance will be busy, Discord’s unreliable, Celestia is on her little vacation, Twilight has her hooves full with the Comet…”

“A comet?” Spike and Merrot asked in unison. “What comet?”

Luna snapped out her reverie, her muzzle displaying a thousand emotions at once. She winced, bit her lip, frowned, pursed her lips together, fluttered her eyelashes—she was a one flustered pony.

“What comet?” she echoed questioningly.

“The one you just mentioned?” Spike crossed his arms. “You know something, don’t you?”

“You will learn soon enough,” Luna replied enigmatically. “But for one to learn, one has to study, much like you have your exam to study for. To the books!”

Magic washed over them before either could form a thought.


* * *


Despite being perhaps the greatest marvel of magic, teleportation was relatively easy to explain: it was like immersing yourself in the gentle streams of the arcane, turning them in the right direction, and letting the current take your body through space and scenery. Being forcefully teleported by someone else, however, was more like getting pushed off the physical realm’s jetty into cold, deep waters of magic, drowning there for a terrifying second, then being pulled back like it had all been a practical joke.

The nauseating sensation was yet to wear off as they blinked under a lone maple by the lake.

“First time?” Spike tried to keep his balance, but gravity was one mean mistress. “Oomph. Stick to the ground, it’ll help.”

Merrot collapsed by his side, sinking into the patchwork of red and orange leaves. “I’m alright, I just need a moment,” he said, rolling onto his back. “Nope, reverse, go back—sky is bad. Ground is good. That’s right. Ugh. What was that about? Is asking about space rocks against ponykind’s terms and conditions too?”

“How should I know? The only comet Twilight had special dealings with was the Secretariat Comet, but that one’s gone for the century.”

“Whatever it was it sounded pretty big. Big and clandestine. A perfect opportunity for Root Primer to snoop around... but I’m afraid he’s been disavowed rather recently.”

“My condolences. First his brother, now him. How’s the family holding up?”

“They’re nothing if not adaptable, they’ll live. And Root Primer and Prim Rooter will forever live in their hearts,” Merrot added theatrically.

The two students shared a humored snicker which they gladly fashioned into a full-blown cackle. After how eventful those last couple of hours had been, having a laugh was more than deserved. In the old knight’s own words, they had met, dined and traveled along each other, and lived to tell the tale. Plus they were just technically banished off the Royal Castle by Princess Luna herself—and they still became, all in all, quite the experts in the matters of the ancient Crystal Empire. That alone was enough to consider the day well spent.

Spike didn’t enjoy that serenity for long. With Gallant Gleam’s mystery out of the picture, Merrot’s own still remained.

“So… mind telling me why you do this?” he asked.

Merrot shrugged. “For the same reason you are running laps around the lake every morning. I change my shape to stay in shape. For us, this ability is like any other muscle and we need to keep flexing it,” he explained. “Have you ever heard a phrase ‘unused organs disappear’? While I wouldn’t say it’s scientifically accurate, the fact remains that we’re only as good at this as we train ourselves to be.”

“So it’s like a… hobby for you? Something like a sport, or an obligation?” Spike had a hard time finding the right analogy. “Because let me tell you something, you were scary good back there at the gate. You fooled everyone—and I mean it as a compliment this time.”

“Not everyone,” the changeling admitted sourly. “Two personal attempts later I’m inclined to believe that alicorns can’t be tricked. Our Queen obviously managed that, but to be honest there’s never been a consensus whether it takes royalty to deceive the same.” He giggled. “There’s a funny thought experiment on that topic, actually. You put an alicorn and a spy in a box. You can’t determine their status without opening the box, so until such time arrives, the agent may be simultaneously covert and overt. Or, as some put it, both successful and dead.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Spike replied. It seemed changeling scientist had too much free time on their hooves. “Besides, if the guy is locked in a box, how come that he’s also in a classroom sitting next to me? Or at the Archives working the books? How are you even managing so many characters without going nuts?”

“In the same manner I could get the last year’s history test.”

Something clicked. Spike had been so focused on the single puzzle piece that was Merrot that he completely disregarded the bigger picture. If old pony sayings were any true, catching one changeling red-hoofed meant there was six more plotting behind your back.

“There are others,” he said in sudden clarity. “You share those made-up identities.”

“On occasions. Prim Rooter, junior librarian was my creation, but Cadet Root Primer of the Reserves was, well, borrowed.” Merrot’s ears flattened as if he had just broken someone else’s toy. “They’re both done for now, so that’s that, but I can’t say I’m not going to miss the benefits. No more unrestricted access to the Archives, no more tours around the Royal Castle and, worst of all, no more palace cuisine in the near future. That’s a loss.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“I’m a Feeder, I never joke about food.” Merrot patted himself on the belly. “Why do think I’m so fat? I swear, some of the things served there… mm, delicious! Last week I’ve had an orange-peach pudding and it was a hundred times better than anything I’ve eaten back home!”

Spike laughed so he wouldn’t cry. Watch the stage, everyone! Enter Merrot, a changeling not-spy of a hundred aliases and a dozen spy-gizmos, sneaking into the palace with your typical choice of spy tricks, all to get a dessert. Somehow, that story felt familiar, only that in Spike’s case it was the Golden Oak Library and sapphire cream rolls which he under no circumstances was allowed to eat after supper. Yeah, like words could stop him.

“Word! Snacks at the palace are something,” Spike chuckled. “But did it ever tempt you to, you know, add something to the mix?”

“It occurred to me as a strictly theoretical possibility,” Merrot replied. “Listen, if there’s anything to learn from our dear knight errant’s example is that the history between my race and whoever happened to be around isn’t the prettiest. The new treaty proved that ponies and changelings are willing to put the past behind and start anew, but since many of us are discovering the surface only now, we'll sometimes go to unconventional ways to make the best of our time here. I suppose we’re in this critical period when both parties need to learn to appreciate each other for what they are.”

“Can you guys do that? Learn to appreciate ponies even when some will keep calling you face-stealers?”

“I can’t promise you there won’t ever be a statistical share posing as ponies for personal gain, but I have faith,” he said. “How about this? Just say the word and I’ll swear on my ancestors to never resort to disguise as long as I’m a student here. You’ll have one less face to worry about, at least.”

That did not sound like a joke.

“That’s six years you’re talking about. Isn’t that too long to leave a muscle unattended?”

“Perhaps. But it is a price I am willing to pay for having your trust back.”

Merrot’s ways were unorthodox, but intentions behind them were true. Knowledge, self-improvement, healthy curiosity—and healthy appetite, apparently. In the end, his crime was being a newcomer in a land where certain things weren’t seen his way but where he was still handling them better than most. With the exception of a few braver-ish ponies Spike could think of, average Equestrians would turn tail at the first sign of trouble if they found themselves in a changeling hive.

Merrot persevered and there was a lesson in his persistence. He must have come to Canterlot with his own envisionment of how his school time would be like, but pony reality could be quirky. Spike could tell. Someone like Merrot could fight the odds for so long, even if he had a whole network of shifters to back him up—but definitely longer if they felt welcome.

“You already have it back.” Spike raised his fist which Merrot readily bumped. “And... sorry for what I said earlier. I’ve been an ass. You’re a great guy and I’m glad you’re here with us,” he added, wondering if he could get any cheesier. “And you know what, even if I’ve come here only to study magic, I think I’ll be staying for the company.”

“ ‘Much appreciated, young master!’ ” Merrot declared. “Also, I apologize for not being completely honest with you. With the test, with my extracurricular activities, with everything. I would like to make it up to you, but if what Stock-Silk told us was true, then giving you the last year’s questions would be an empty gesture.” He took Across the Ages 1 halfway out of his bag. “Shall we review the material the traditional way?”

Spike stretched out on the blanket of leaves. “Nah. I think I’ve had enough history for one day. There is always tomorrow."

They enjoyed their well-deserved break in silence.

“So… Razzle, huh?” Spike asked after a while.

As if to match the maple over their heads, Merrot blushed a beautiful shade of autumn red.

“I have nothing to add in the matter.”

“Sure you don’t, Merry.”