//------------------------------//
// Chapter 30 - The Day is Darkest Just After the Dawn 
// Story: My Little Equestroid: Stompin' is Magic 
// by ForeverChasingRainbows 
//------------------------------//


**BraveStarr**


BraveStarr had awoken after a dreamless night's sleep to a sensation of faint unease. There wasn't anything obviously disquieting about the new day, except perhaps that it was the middle of the morning. A few hours past dawn was unusually late in the day for BraveStarr to be just hauling himself out of bed, and initially he put it down to tiredness after the previous day's escapades. After quickly throwing on his uniform and heading to the bathroom to splash a little water on his face, BraveStarr couldn't help wondering what exactly he was anxious about, and why it had only gotten worse over the few minutes since he got up. However, it wasn't until he came out of the bathroom and headed back down the corridor that the Marshal caught the first hints of anything out of the ordinary.

The warm prickling sensation of powerful magic was emanating from Thirty-Thirty's room, and getting stronger by the moment. More concerning than that, it wasn't the same steady burn that BraveStarr had felt coming off of the small spirit creature before - instead it was pulsating arhythmically, varying in intensity seemingly at random from a comforting dry warmth all the way to the slick, cold feeling of wet ice against his skin.

Hurrying down the passageway, BraveStarr tried to push past the insubstantial but disorienting hot and cold waves battering against his form. Throwing the door open, he found the brightly-coloured creature highlighted by the morning sun pouring in through the window. She was tossing and turning on the bed, the sheet long since kicked off onto the floor.

I think anyone could be forgiven a nightmare or two after whatever she's been through, BraveStarr reflected, but this is intense.

Forcing himself closer, BraveStarr reached out a hand towards the thrashing equine. Careful to avoid being struck by a flailing hoof, he gripped one of her blue-furred shoulders and tried to shake her awake.

The pony's eyes flew open and, to BraveStarr's relief, the wildly fluctuating magic cut off. That relief was short-lived, however — the spirit creature's wild, darting eyes and pinned ears were obvious signs that is was still pretty shaken up. As soon as her eyes landed on him, the small creature let out a panicked whinny and lashed out, shoving BraveStarr in the chest with her front legs and sending him sprawling. As the Marshal hurriedly picked himself back up from the floor, one arm curled around his chest as he tried to suck in a breath, he realised that the loud snapping sound from his torso had probably been his breastplate failing as it saved him from a set of crushed ribs. It was primarily designed to absorb and deflect laser fire rather than kinetic impacts, but that didn't mean it was easy to break. The spirit creature was obviously significantly stronger than its size would suggest.

Staggering mostly upright, BraveStarr found the pony backed up into the corner of the room, still standing on the bed where it met the wall. She was hyperventilating and obviously terrified, pressed back into the corner as if willing herself to phase through it. The pony's eyes were rapidly bouncing between BraveStarr and the window behind his right shoulder, her wings half-open as she obviously weighed up her chances of making it past him. His first instinct was to move to directly block her path out of the window, but BraveStarr managed to resist the impulse. He wasn't dealing with an escaping villain, but a panicking innocent. If he moved to cut off her obvious route of escape, she might bolt and run him over - and given that she'd just shattered his flashproof chestplate with a barely-aimed kick, BraveStarr wasn't sure that would be a contest he could win without applying a potentially lethal amount of force in return. It was becoming increasingly apparent that "force of nature" might actually be an accurate description for a manifested spirit creature.

And ya don't fight a thunderstorm. Just gotta let it calm down on its own.

"Easy, easy," he wheezed, straightening up and slowly taking small steps backward and to the side, away from the window. Hopefully if he deliberately left the way open, she'd hesitate and think about what was going on long enough to defuse her panic. "You're okay."

For a moment BraveStarr was sure the winged pony was going to fly straight out of the window, but she managed to restrain herself. Gradually slowing her breathing and calming down, she relaxed her back legs and sat down in the corner. He noticed a look of embarrassed contrition flash over the pony's features as her eyes flicked down to his chest. She ducked her head a little, rubbing a hoof against the back of her neck, and mumbled something that sounded vaguely apologetic. The red flush of embarrassment BraveStarr might have expected on a human face was even visible through the cyan fur of her muzzle, although he couldn't figure out how exactly that worked. Come to think of it, Thirty-Thirty had never been able to explain how he managed it either.

All of a sudden, the light in the room dimmed. It took a moment of glancing at the ceiling before BraveStarr realised it couldn't be a faulty bulb, because the light wasn't even on - and the little spirit creature's attention was now firmly focused on the window over his shoulder. Turning to look outside, BraveStarr began to wonder if perhaps his earlier apprehension was a portent of something more than a pony having a nightmare.

There was a growing, darkening cloud of what looked like black vapour high in the sky. The three suns were still barely visible behind it as triplet points of light, but they were growing fainter by the second as the mist thickened. A pall of darkness was spreading across the town and, based on the way the cloud was expanding to cover the entire sky, likely the desert beyond it as well. BraveStarr got the strangest impression that the spreading inky tendrils weren't fading into view, so much as the sky behind them was fading out. He could already hear raised voices coming from some of the nearby buildings, most sounding confused for the moment - but there was already a bit of worry in some of them.

The radio earpiece in his hat let out a faint crackle, followed by JB's voice. "Marshal, are you seeing this?"

BraveStarr leaned out of the window, looking up at the darkening sky. "I don't know what I'm seeing JB, but I'm seein' it," he said, speaking into the thin microphone boom that hinged down from the brim of his hat.

The voices coming from the surrounding buildings grew more numerous and more agitated as the sky darkened further, culminating in a few startled cries as the remaining faint glow from the suns was smothered, leaving the town in darkness. There was barely time for a few lights to start flicking on nearby before the vanished suns' light was replaced by something else. A small part of the umbral mist blanketing the sky began to glow a deep, threatening purple, just barely distinct from the blackness around it. Until that point the cloud had seemed like a uniform sheet of colour, but there were twisting, undulating movements visible within the dim purple glow - like a rippling cloudbank caught in the throes of a truly apocalyptic storm. A motion by his shoulder drew the Marshal's eyes to the dark-shrouded form of the spirit creature now hovering beside his head. The faint illumination was just enough to outline her features, looking up at the sky with the same confused apprehension he felt.

"JB," BraveStarr said into the radio, "hit the sirens. I'm putting the town in Fortress Mode. Whatever this is, it's not good."




**Twilight Sparkle**


Several hours before the skies darkened over Fort Kerium, Twilight woke with the dawn - as she always did the morning before a big test. In this particular instance, however, the accompanying nervous excitement was rather heavily biased in the 'nervous' direction. She wasn't sure if anything she'd tried to learn yesterday had stuck in her head at all.

I am not prepared for this.

"G'morning sleepy-head!" Pinkie Pie chirped from the bed on her left. To Twilight's surprise and mild concern, the bed on which Pinkie sat looked awfully neat. Almost as if she hadn't slept in it at all, actually. Besides Pinkie, it looked like everypony else was still asleep - and the faint light coming in through the balcony arch suggested that Celestia had only just raised the sun. The Princess had probably retrieved the arcanite from the vault already, and was likely waiting for them all in the throne room.

"You're up early," Pinkie went on. "Are you excited, 'cause I'm excited I've never been so excited I mean except for the time I—"

"Pinkie," Twilight groaned, "please, not yet. Coffee first."

"Ohmygosh that's a great idea!" Pinkie exclaimed, before cutting herself off abruptly. Her mood deflated temporarily as she said, "Aww, sorry Twilight, but I can't. You know I'm not allowed caffeine after the thing with the elephant. I was right about the whole thing and they still banned me from making custard for a month. A whole month, Twilight. I can't go through that again."

"Not you," Twilight dragged herself to the edge of the bed and half-climbed, half-fell out onto her hooves. "Me."

More by memory than sight, Twilight made her way to the small side table holding cups, a teapot, and, most glorious of things, a coffee pot. Lighting her horn, she pushed a little of her own power into the pot's enchanted base to get it warmed up. No sense draining the energy stored in the thing when she could provide her own, especially when somepony else who wasn't a unicorn might need it later.

She let her eyes drift closed again as she waited, leaning one side against the table as she drank in the steadily intensifying coffee aroma. It took her longer than it probably should have to figure out that she'd trapped a wing in between her body and the table, and that that was where the strange uncomfortable sensation was coming from. Flexing the wing gently, Twilight used it to push off the table and stand back up as she yawned expansively.

At least the coffee would be strong, given that it'd been standing there all night. She'd always been of the opinion that coffee wasn't strong enough if you didn't need to chew it. Well, except for that one time Spike had taken her hyperbole literally, and given her a mug full of coffee grounds. That had been unpleasant.

Twilight felt Pinkie's eyes on her back as she poured some of the tantalising black sludge into a cup. "Hey, Twilight, aren't you gonna, uh," Pinkie began, sounding a little worried. Twilight could hear motion behind her, suggesting her friend was making gestures of some sort. "You know, maybe dilute that a teensy bit?"

Twilight dumped the contents of the small cup straight down her muzzle, and started to fill it again. "Nope."

"Wow," Pinkie whispered, a sort of horrified awe in her voice. "Hardcore."

"It's just coffee, Pinkie," Twilight replied, already starting to feel a little more equine as she took a more reserved sip from her second cup.

"Ooookay," Pinkie said, eyeing Twilight skeptically as the alicorn turned her back on the small table, "but I'm not gonna be held responsible if you do something really weird. And make sure you tell the guards I didn't have any when they arrest you. I'm clean now."

Applejack sat up in bed, stretching. Twilight tried to contain her jealousy at the hardworking earth pony's obviously wide-awake state, only moments after waking up. "Mornin' all," Applejack said cheerily. Then her expression turned worried and her muzzle twitched. "Is that... Pinkie, did you—"

"It was Twilight, I swear!" Pinkie blurted out, holding her hooves up defensively. "I haven't touched it!"

Applejack's eyes finally found Twilight over by the coffee table. Taking in the cup she was levitating next to her head, the farmpony relaxed a little. "I can smell how strong that is from here, Twi. Ya don't let Pinkie near that, ya hear?"

Twilight rolled her eyes. "It's just coffee. Seriously, how bad can it be?"

"That's pretty much what Jump Start said when she gave it to Pinkie the first time," Applejack replied, climbing out of bed and heading for the bathroom. "Poor gal still twitches every time somepony orders a triple espresso. Oh, an' dibs on the shower," she added, darting inside the bathroom and shutting the door.

As the wooden door banged shut, a quiet "Eep!" and a muffled complaint of "Sweetie Belle, keep it down. 'M trying to sleep," confirmed that Fluttershy and Rarity were at least mostly conscious. Once everypony had had a turn in the bathroom, Twilight was determined to get going as soon as possible.




**Thirty-Thirty**


As he woke up, Thirty-Thirty reflected that it had been an interesting couple of days. The hope that it was drawing to an end, and that he'd soon be back home with his partner, was pulling recent events into focus.

He was certainly never going to look at Shaman and his weird spiritual stuff the same way again. Thirty wondered if the old man even knew about all this, and if he didn't, how much he would want to. It was unlikely something as trivial as appearances would matter to Shaman, but Thirty himself would definitely have a whole different perspective on the human's dealings with the spirit world from now on.

Although he'd initially been quite taken by the idea, when he thought about it, Thirty-Thirty found that he wasn't actually sure whether he would want to come back here or not. At least not right away. Maybe somewhere out away from the castle; some small town somewhere. Away from the weirdest excesses of this world, and one of its inhabitants in particular.

There was a whole world out there that he had barely even seen, though. If even half of what these little ponies had claimed or implied about their world yesterday was true, it was a pretty fantastical place that not even they really understood. If he didn't have a job to do, that alone should have been reason enough to come back for a visit. It was nearly impossible to separate myth from reality given the vast amount of magic he'd seen demonstrated in just the short time he'd spent here. A kingdom of gods and monsters, host to a people that were achingly close to his own. Some of whom could even live as long as he might.

For the first time, some of the implications of that fact hit home. Thirty-Thirty realised that he could potentially have taken the first steps in relationships that wouldn't necessarily end with the other party's death in mere decades. If they really were as long-lived as they claimed to be, there were at least four individuals in this world who might still be around millennia from now. Three of them already had a first impression of him, and he wasn't certain that any of them were positive.

"All things change in time, and the future is often not as we imagine it will be."

Luna's words were almost as unwelcome an intrusion as the mare herself, but Thirty-Thirty couldn't deny that she had had a point. Would he really still feel the same way he did now after a decade? A century? Could he afford to let anything, especially his own fear and hate, cost him one of the few constant or permanent things he might ever find in a shifting, ephemeral universe?

After a magical exile thrusting her a thousand years forward in time, he imagined Luna would know all about the future being something different and unexpected.

Even as long as he himself had lived, Thirty-Thirty still found himself existing from moment to moment, driven by emotion, never really looking back at what he left behind for fear of what he might see. Shaman was hundreds of years his junior, but in some ways Thirty-Thirty thought the aged human was older and wiser than he would ever be. People always maintained that perspective improved with age, that one came to terms with things, let go of the past, but that particular process seemed to have passed Thirty by. He couldn't seem to escape anything, old or new.

Shaman was at peace with what he was, what had happened to his people, and where his life had led him. He still felt some hatred towards Stampede for the damage the creature had wreaked upon him, but it wasn't the focus of his life, or even any longer the primary emotion in his mind regarding the partially-contained monster. If anything, Thirty-Thirty thought that Shaman pitied Stampede for what he had become. Maybe even hoped he might live to see Stampede regret his actions, and ask for the forgiveness the old man was, by means Thirty-Thirty couldn't begin to understand, somehow willing to give — before he ran out of time to give it.

Thirty-Thirty had never even considered doing that himself before. Never asked Shaman how he did it. But... forever was a long time to hate.

Maybe I should talk to him. And actually listen, for once.

The ponies in the room with him were having some sort of discussion about coffee, the smell of which was beginning to get rather distracting. The sound of running water starting up in the bathroom signalled that it was probably time to stop lying around in bed.

Before Thirty-Thirty managed to coax himself into motion, the bed in question jolted lightly a couple of times, each punctuated by a squeak of springs as something bounced across the mattress. What should have been a third bounce instead turned into the sensation of something - or more accurately a pair of somethings, probably hooves - thumping against the side of his forelegs. Twisting his neck, Thirty-Thirty raised his head off the bed to see which of the small mares had decided to try to wake him up.

Perhaps inevitably, it was the pink one. He was lying on his side, looking back at her as she stood next to his belly, between his front and back legs. She had her forehooves propped up on his own outstretched forelegs, to bring her short muzzle up closer to his.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!" she chirped, grinning at him like it was her first Christmas morning.

"Ya don't even eat bacon," Thirty said, puzzled.

"Bacon? What's bacon?" Pinkie asked, her confusion briefly mirroring his own before the huge grin returned. "I said bakey. You know, breakfast muffins, Prench toast, crumpets. Baked stuff. For breakfast."

"Huh," Thirty said, "That... that actually makes sense."

"I know, right?" Pinkie replied, lightly bouncing in place on his leg before hopping off the bed. "I surprise myself sometimes."

Thirty couldn't figure out what exactly was so strange about seeing all of them going about their version of a normal morning routine at first, until he realised he hadn't actually seen it before. Last time they'd all been woken up and rushed out of the room by the moody little pony with the bat wings.

It seemed like ponies with horns didn't do mornings. Rarity was still in bed with a mask over her eyes, somehow resisting a gently cajoling Fluttershy asking her to get up. Twilight was admittedly upright, although calling her conscious might have been overly generous. The purple pony was the originator of the coffee smell spreading through the room, and looked to be doggedly making her way through the contents of an entire pot.

The sound of the shower shut off, and a slightly damp Applejack emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head. Thirty-Thirty couldn't help but grin at the sight of the pony's hat perched on top of the towel; for whatever reason, the palomino mare was clearly a little too attached to it. Applejack barely got her rump through the door before Pinkie dived over her into the bathroom, and the sound of running water started back up almost immediately - this time accompanied by enthusiastic singing about brushing.

Thirty watched as Applejack dropped her hat onto her bed, undid the towel and shook out her mane. His curiosity was left largely undimmed when she simply gathered the whole lot up with her hooves and popped a scrunchie on the end, matching the mane to the tail she'd presumably dried and tied before she left the bathroom.

"How'd you manage to do that so easily with hooves?" he asked.

Applejack glanced back at him, then turned back to flip her hat off the bed and up onto her head. "Do what?"

"Tie your mane up like that," Thirty continued, rolling upright up on the bed. "Pretty sure I couldn't do that, how would you grip stuff?"

"Ya just do," Applejack said, turning round to regard him curiously, "like normal. Ain't any harder 'cause it's my mane, 'cept I can't see it o'course." Her eyes turned down towards his own legs, and her eyes widened a little. "Oh, I, uh, not that I'm sayin' you ain't capable if you can't do that sorta thing on account of," Applejack paused, shuffling her hooves. "Sorry. You ain't said exactly what happened with your legs and all. I'm not tryin' to cause offense, and..." She met his gaze again, and Thirty-Thirty thought he saw something hidden there. "I understand if there's stuff in your past you'd rather not talk about."

"I ain't shy about these things," Thirty-Thirty replied, stretching one of his legs out and examining an upturned metal hoof. "I don't remember a time before I had 'em. But even if I didn't have 'em, I still wouldn'a been able to do that. Regular old horses can't even touch the bottoms of their front hooves together, never mind reach up behind their neck to touch their mane. Grippin' stuff with hooves shouldn't even be possible at all, there's nothin' there to grip with." Thirty folded his leg back beneath himself. "I got a better range o'motion than that, but I still gotta transform if I need to do anything complicated."

"That's probably because you have no magic," Twilight chimed in, before smothering a yawn with an upraised hoof. "There's a little bit of it involved in ungual dexterity, particularly in earth ponies."

"You've got magic sticky hooves," Thirty-Thirty asked flatly. "Really, that's the explanation you're going with?"

Twilight nodded at him, her brow furrowed slightly. "That's a rather reductive way of describing a complex vitathaumic phenomenon, but, essentially, yes."

"I ain't got no sticky hooves," Applejack grumbled, mostly under her breath.

"Sorry, I'm not tryin' to be hostile or nothin'," Thirty-Thirty said. "It's just that 'It's magic, it just does that' ain't much of an explanation."

"I could just say 'It's science' instead, you know," Twilight said. "It isn't that we don't understand it or how it works, I just don't have a reference frame in which to explain it to you. It's sort of like trying to explain pancakes, specifically, to someone who's never heard of food and doesn't eat."

The bathroom door popped open and Pinkie Pie stuck her head out, her usually puffy mane hanging off her head in a water-slicked flat sheet. "Twilight," she said, "you have the weirdest pancake fixation in the mornings."

"Hey," Twilight protested, a smile belying her affronted tone, "I'm hungry, okay? It was the first thing that popped into my head."

"You have the same thing pop into your head more than once?" Pinkie asked, cocking her head to one side. "Huh. Weird." Pushing the rest of the way out of the bathroom, accompanied by a cloud of warm steam, Pinkie trotted back to her bed. Hopping up onto the sheets, she sat down, placed one hoof in her mouth and blew into it, as if she was trying to inflate her leg. Her mane and tail swelled up a little before bursting from their straight, wet shape back into their former curly, messy and - somehow - dry glory.

"How—"

Thirty only got the one word out before Twilight cut him off. "No," she sighed, holding up a hoof to forestall any more questions, "that one I actually can't explain. I told you before, Pinkie doesn't count."




**Fluttershy**


A short while later, Fluttershy was almost done preening her wings when she noticed Thirty-Thirty was staring at her.

And just what does he think he's looking at?

Fluttershy ducked her head and simultaneously raised her wing a little higher, hiding behind it while pretending she was still sorting out her feathers. Screwing her eyes closed, she tried to hold in the rising tide of fear.

It had been intermittent yesterday. Just the occasional angry feeling, or a stray thought here and there that had shocked her when she reflected on it. She'd just put it down to stress and tiredness, but then Fluttershy had woken up this morning to find it had only gotten worse. Now she had a stream of horrible, hostile comments springing up at the back of her mind, a niggling little voice picking away at everything.

"Shut up," she breathed, pressing her wing down over her face, "shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Hey, there's no need to be mean to me, it said, sounding sympathetic but nevertheless a little hurt. I'm on your side here. They are all taking advantage of you. Rainbow isn't here, so somepony's got to stick up for you.

My friends are not taking advantage of me.

Y'know how in every group of friends there's the one who's a sort of annoying hanger-on, it asked, the one who everypony just sort of puts up with, because they've always been there? You don't, do you. Because it's you. They pity you. They aren't your friends, they just don't have the heart to tell you to get lost.

How can you say that? You don't understand anything about us, what we all mean to each other.

I know it hurts, it cooed sympathetically, but sometimes the kindest thing to do is show somepony the truth they don't want to face.

Rarity's voice cut into her thoughts, and Fluttershy folded her wing back by her side and tried to behave like nothing was wrong.

"All done! Sorry about the wait girls, but perfection does take a little time."

Oh, great, the useless histrionic diva is ready, said the voice at the back of her head. Until somepony knocks a hair out of place. She might as well just tattoo "attention whorse" across her barrel for pony's sake.

Fluttershy's brain ground to a halt as she tried to process what she'd just heard. Rather than another flash of anger, which she would have expected and immediately suppressed, Fluttershy realised she felt oddly relaxed. Tranquil, but detached. There was a strange sensation of trepidation emanating from the back of her mind, as if something realised it had gone too far.

Telling the little voice to stop hadn't worked. If it was in her head, Fluttershy reasoned, perhaps she should try force of will over words. Focusing on her desire for it to stop whispering horrible things about everypony around her, Fluttershy willed the voice to go away.

Hey, what are you doing?

She imagined pushing it down into the deepest recesses of her mind, where she couldn't hear it.

What... no! You can't do this to me, stop!

Crushing it into darkness and silence, so it wouldn't hurt anypony else.

I-I, the voice wavered, something in its tone picking at Fluttershy's concentration, I didn't... Please, you can't do this, I don't want to go back there!

That was not an apology. It was going to have to do a lot better than that.

I just wanted to help, it protested, rushing over the words, I'm sorry, okay? I'll be quiet, just stop, please!

Fluttershy hesitated, but didn't reduce the mental pressure. It had almost sounded afraid.

I don't want to go back there! It's dark, and silent, and lonely, and... Please. Fluttershy realised that she could barely hear the voice - and, now that she was paying attention to it again, that it was obviously frightened.

It hurts, it said, now just a ragged and breathless whisper. Please, you're hurting me. I'm sorry, I'll do anything you want, just please stop hurting me!

Fluttershy reopened her eyes and shook her head, suddenly disgusted with herself. Yes, it had said some spiteful and hurtful things, but now it was terrified, in pain - and it was her fault. She had lost her temper over something as trivial as a few mean words, and now she'd gone and hurt somepony. She still wanted to yell at it, tell that little voice that it shouldn't have said those awful things, that it only had itself to blame, but then Fluttershy realised that was only to cover her own shame at having been so cruel to it.

I'm sorry if I hurt you, Fluttershy thought, apologetic but firm. I didn't mean to. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. If you could not say those sorts of things about my friends any more, I would appreciate it.

There was no response. Fluttershy could feel a nagging sensation, a tug towards that now-silent voice. It felt very much like a frightened animal hiding from her. She was about to try and reach out to it again when the attention of everypony in the room was captured by a commotion outside in the corridor. It sounded like somepony was galloping down the passageway as fast as they could, with muffled shouts from some sort of pursuit. Through the door, Fluttershy heard a guard call out a challenge, and then another more urgent demand as the rapid hoofbeats drew closer.




**Starchaser**


If Starchaser were a less forgiving pony, he might have been a little upset this morning. Thanks to the mess Nightshade has managed to make of the schedule yesterday, he'd ended up spending almost the entire day on shift - not that he was complaining about spending a day with the Elements of Harmony of course - and then, after only a few hours' sleep, heading straight back out at dawn to stand in the corridor again.

He wasn't an 'angry' sort of pony, though. In fact, he was quietly whistling to himself when a pony in a hospital gown came barrelling round the corner at the far end of the corridor.

Starchaser stepped out into the corridor away from the doorway, turning to face the oncoming pegasus. Unexpected, strange things would set any guard on edge, and there was something extra about this situation he couldn't quite put his hoof on that was making Starchaser even more uncomfortable. At the speed the tan-coloured stallion was moving, he'd only have a few seconds before the pegasus was right on top of him.

"Sir," he said firmly, planting himself in the middle of the corridor, "I'm going to have to ask you to stop right there."

The pegasus' eyes widened in alarm as he registered the guard blocking the passageway ahead of him. Starchaser could almost read the next few instants' worth of reactions like a book. A brief twitch of the head, signalling an aborted glance backward, meant that the unfamiliar pony was being pursued. There was a rapid flickering of the eyes, left, right, down, and finally up. Then his ears flattened and his head came down, nostrils flaring, as he decided he wasn't going to stop. Based on his eye movements, Starchaser had read the same course any guard would have - the pegasus would feint a charge, get Starchaser to commit to a tackle, before opening his wings at the last second and taking a flying hop over the guard's head. It was the first thing every pegasus tried, and one of the first things covered in basic training too.

"Don't do it," Starchaser warned, opening his wings to block the passageway. There was something about the tan stallion that was making his brain scream warnings at him, but there was very little time to think on it as the pegasus thundered across the last bit of floor separating them. "Last chance."

The instant he pushed off the ground and snapped his wings down to stop the pegasus' flying leap over his head, Starchaser realised he'd been played. The other pony dropped to the ground at the last second, starting to slide underneath him as he jumped. Now all the stallion had to do was get up and keep running, preserving his momentum, while Starchaser would need to make a standing start - not to mention that he was facing the wrong way.

Nuts. Looks like we're doing this the hard way, the guard thought. Sorry buddy, this is gonna hurt you more than it hurts me.

Quickly wrenching his wings upwards again without turning them out of the airstream, Starchaser slammed himself back down into the floor. The padding inside his armour absorbed most of the impact on his end, but the pony trying to slip underneath him got the full force of the blow. The noctral's armoured form hammered the pegasus into the stone floor, driving the breath from his lungs. Recovering from the impact much more quickly than his opponent, Starchaser wasted no time in pinning the fallen stallion by gathering up his hind legs. With Starchaser holding onto his back legs, and the guard's entire armoured body lying across his wings, the pegasus wasn't going anywhere.

"Okay pal, settle down," Starchaser growled as he hauled back on the fallen pony's legs so he couldn't buck, trying to ignore the primal urge to continue the fight. "You gonna act like a sensible adult and answer a few questions, or do I have to put the cuffs on you and make this official?" The stallion beneath him regained some of his wits, and Starchaser had to make an effort to hold on as the pegasus tried to shake him off. Worryingly, even though the stallion was struggling to breathe after being slammed into the floor under the weight of a pony in full armour, Starchaser was already finding it a challenge to keep him pinned. He set his jaw and tightened his grip, head pressing into the white cloud cutie mark on the stallion's thigh. There was something familiar about this particular pegasus that he just couldn't seem to bring to the front of his mind.

"Oh, oh my," came a breathless voice from further up the corridor, "um, please try, try not to... oh, I need to do more exercise..."

Starchaser raised his head, still fighting to hang on to the increasingly agitated pegasus. A tired-looking young mare - almost a filly, really - cantered the rest of the way down the corridor before crashing to a halt next to the struggling pair, the first hints of lather marring her pale green coat. A white nurses' cap, formerly resting askew on her frizzy orange mane, tumbled onto the floor and she fumbled to retrieve it. "I'm sorry mister guard, sir," she gasped, pushing the little cap back down atop her head, "he just woke up and ran out of the ward. He's been asleep since he came in, and I just looked away for a second. One minute he was just lying there, and then"—she thrust a peppermint forehoof out ahead of her—"whoosh! Oh, I'm going to be in so much trouble."

"If you could—" Starchaser began, before the pinned stallion jerked his legs again, almost throwing him off. "Hey, quit that!" he barked over his shoulder, "I'm trying to have a conversation here. Now," he said, turning back to the nurse, "if you could do anything to calm this guy down, I would really appreciate it." The pinned pony had apparently recovered enough of the wind Starchaser had knocked out of him to talk, because he had started to rant about needing to find somepony or other.

Starchaser's left ear flicked up as the door he had been guarding clicked, and started to open. He didn't want to hurt anypony's feelings, but in an insecure situation like this, he had to make sure the ponies he was guarding didn't do anything stupid to put themselves in danger. Such as, for example, stick their heads out into a brawl that might be specifically staged to occupy him and expose them. Bodyguard duty would be so much easier, he thought, if that body wouldn't put itself in danger because it got curious.

His attention flickering to the doorway, Starchaser saw Princess Sparkle sticking her head out - curiosity already giving way to concern on her face as she took in the two stallions wrestling on the floor. Redoubling his efforts to keep the pony beneath him pinned, Starchaser shouted, "Shut the door! Now!"

Instead of retreating back inside to safety, the Princess let the door swing further open and lit her horn. Starchaser rapidly found himself being forced up and off the stallion he was restraining, a transparent purple bubble springing up around the prone pegasus. The guard found himself lying on top of the newly-formed hemispherical shield, while his opponent - finding himself suddenly free of the heavy weight across his back - sprang up and promptly ran face-first into the inside of the barrier. While he slowly sat back up, hooves wrapped over his bruised muzzle, Princess Sparkle trotted up to the outside of the barrier and peered in at him.

"Princess," Starchaser protested from his new perch on top of the shield bubble, "it's not secure out here. You should go back inside your room and wait until things are back under control."

Ignoring him entirely, the Princess let out a small sound of satisfaction. "I thought I recognised you," she said to the pegasus in the shield bubble. "You were the pony with the amulet. Stratus, right?"

The amulet—

A rush of adrenaline flowed through Starchaser's body as he looked down at the pegasus contained within the shield underneath him. This was the pegasus from the attack two days ago? The pony who had, alone, blindsided him and then gone through his entire squad like they were a clueless bunch of foals? That had almost left Echo permanently crippled?

At first the imprisoned pegasus panicked, wide-eyed gaze searching for any hope of escape from the confines of the magical shield. Then his pale blue eyes seemed to settle onto the Princess fully for the first time, as if he had only just noticed there was anypony else present, and he froze. For a moment all he did was shiver slightly, as if he wanted to cower but didn't dare move. The stallion must have changed his mind about something after that, as he visibly relaxed - even if there was still a restlessness to his roving gaze and nervous tension in his muscles - and started talking.

"Wait, no," he mumbled, his eyes still pointed at Twilight but drifting out of focus, "she's exactly who I need. If they'd gotten to her this would all be over, which means—" His pupils constricted once more and he blinked several times, refocusing on the Princess. "Stratus?" He said, his head canted to one side as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of the sound coming out of his mouth. "Yeah, that's, uh, I mean," he babbled, before tearing his gaze away from Twilight and holding his head in his hooves. Starchaser had just enough time to think the pegasus looked like he was in pain before Stratus jerked his neck sideways, slamming his own head into the inside of the shield.

Twilight gasped and reflexively raised a hoof towards Stratus, and Starchaser heard a startled squeak from the young nurse behind him, but to the guard's relief the Princess wasn't naive or foolish enough to drop the shield separating her from the pegasus. Recovering almost immediately from the self-inflicted impact, Stratus spoke again, a slight strain in his voice betraying a hint of the pain. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not... entirely myself at the moment, but this is really, really important." A muscle under the stallion's left eye started twitching uncontrollably, but he held Twilight's worried gaze through the barrier. "I don't remember much from, from before, really, but I know they're after you." Stratus glanced side to side nervously, and leaned a little closer to the barrier. "You stopped me, but there's a backup plan," he said quietly, "a big one. They've got somepony on the inside, here, in the castle. Maybe more than one, it's too jumbled for me to see clearly, but they know things that only guards would. They were just waiting for a sign of weakness. You can't trust anypony, especially here."

Starchaser saw Twilight's mouth open slowly, as if she was about to reply, when Stratus continued. "They've uncovered something. One of us— I mean, one of them. They knew something. Something secret, something hidden. They know the Princess is vulnerable, and they're going to exploit it."

Twilight finally found her voice. "If you mean what went on with Princess Luna—"

Stratus barked out a short high-pitched giggle, "No, no, don't be silly," he said, waving a hoof dismissively. "Why would they bother with her? She already proved she's no match for her sister in a fight once before, even with a power boost."

Starchaser felt a reactionary upswelling of anger, and fought the urge to try and crack the shield open and beat the insolent pegasus to within an inch of his life. He deserved it, but Luna had told them all not to do that sort of thing. Said that the feelings that sort of vile blasphemy engendered weren't to be indulged.

"Everypony's noticed the change in Celestia since Luna's return," Stratus said. "It's obvious she cares deeply about her sister's well-being. If Luna is suffering, Celestia is too. Even if she's better at hiding it. She's just as emotionally vulnerable; maybe even worse if she's denying it."

"Of course she's worried," Twilight said defensively, "but Princess Celestia would never—"

"Believe her sister was dangerous?" Stratus cut in. "Maybe get a little paranoid? What if somepony could convince her Luna had already been subverted, that she was in danger of losing her sister again. What do you think she'd do to stop that," he asked insistently, "what do you think she'd risk, what weapons would she reach for in desperation?"

Twilight hesitated, her gaze flickering aside for a moment. Stratus pounced on the gesture. "She told you about the arcanite, didn't she," he challenged. "She'd use it, if she thought Luna's life was on the line."

Starchaser wasn't sure what they were talking about, but the young Princess' reaction to the question was all too obvious. Whatever the pegasus was talking about, Twilight knew something - and now the affront and confusion on her face was quickly being replaced by fear.

"Celestia told you about what she's got squirrelled away in the royal vault. Only you, Celestia and the vault guards know it exists, and I'm no guard. So you've just got to ask yourself one more question," Stratus said. "How do you think I know?"