Midnight's Shadow: Succession Crisis

by Ponibius


Chapter 4

'Twas early morning when Émeraude and I finally returned to my quarters.

Only after further study of the corpse of Count High Stakes that I discovered exactly how he had died. From what my spells could discern, the late count had digested some sort of sedative in sufficient quantity to cause his already weakened heart to stop, and death followed soon after. Now the question was whether the poisoning had been deliberate or an accident. I considered it possible that somepony had merely given him too much medicine in an attempt to aid their ailing count’s sleep, but Émeraude confirmed that the local healer had been treating his illness, and that she had supreme confidence in her skills.

I could not help but think that Émeraude would not have brought this to mine attention if the count had not been intentionally poisoned. But my thoughts were becoming far too sluggish to determine what I should do next with what I had learned. The potion I had taken to revitalize my vigor waned, and left me far more tired as it drained away. I needed rest, and time to think with a fresh mind. Too much had happened since I had come to Honeyfield, and there was so much information to comb through and put into context. I had at least half a dozen suspects for what might have been a murder, and the monster which had apparently slain Shining Quest might yet be rampaging across the countryside and feasting on the entrails of the innocent right at that moment.

Could these events be related, or even mere coincidence? What I needed was more evidence—something that could be gathered from catching this murderous beast, talking with the Honeyfield healer, and interviewing the other residents of the castle and those that wished to be the next lord of the county. But that would have to wait until I had slept at least for a few hours.

I dragged myself into my quarters, tossing my cloak onto a chair as I labored to my bed. Émeraude cleared her throat, interrupting my journey. “Was there anything else you required before you retire?”

I rubbed mine eyes and suppressed a groan. “For now, I merely need some sleep. We can talk later tomorrow—today, technically. After I have slept.”

Émeraude inclined her head in a slight nod. “Very well Magus, though do try and think on mine offers ere next we meet. No doubt you have many questions still, and while I would be happy to tell you what I know...”

“I am aware.” I sighed and nodded. Émeraude seemed eager to reveal more of what she knew, but all that could be a mere front to draw me into a trap. Pretending to be helpful while really trying to trick a pony into a bad deal was exactly something one of the fair folk would do. A bargain was not to be entered into lightly with a fey, especially when she seemed to be eager to acquire something I would not readily part with. It was certainly not something to seriously consider when I felt dead on my hooves, so I opted to politely dismiss my host. “But for now I ask we part company. If you will be so kind…?”

“As you desire.” Émeraude turned to go, finally leaving me alone. Some part of me was sorry to see her depart, though that might merely have been due to her supernatural aura. Or mayhaps some part of me liked her company. I shook my head, trying to dispel such thoughts. I was not some daydreaming maiden, but a magus to be respected.

Though ‘twould be easier to command such respect were I not asleep on my hooves. I trotted to my bed and soon found myself lying under its cover.


It felt as though I had only lain my head on the pillow when somepony knocked upon the bedroom door. I groaned and pulled the covers over my head as the blasted sunrays stabbed at my tired eyes. “What is it?”

Stalwart’s voice came through the door. “Magus, we gather to hunt the monster. Are you ready?”

The events of the previous night returned to me in a flood, and I wished for naught more than to cover my head with a pillow and blot out the world for a few more hours. But neigh, I could not neglect my duties so.

“One moment.” I groaned once again and my tired limbs protested as I pushed myself out of bed, dragging myself to the door and cracking it open.

I must have looked as good as I felt, for Stalwart’s eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of me. “Are you well?”

“‘Twas a long night.” I worked to keep the irritation out of my words. “Give me some time and I will be ready.”

“Then I will see to it that the servants deliver you some breakfast while you do so,” Stalwart said. “Though I recommend against dallying. The others will be ready soon, and some of them are eager to begin the hunt.”

I took a long breath as I rubbed my throbbing brow. “Aye, of course. I will ready myself forthwith. Tell them that I will join them shortly.”  What I wanted to do more than anything was to return to bed and sleep the morning away, I knew that was a luxury denied me if I wanted to be part of the hunt—and I did want to participate. Discovering what had slain Shining would unravel much of the mystery surrounding me. That, and I did not wish for the ponies around me to ruin mine opportunity to figure out what was going on. The competence of those around me was yet to be determined, and it would not do for me to sleep whilst some fantastic beast tore the ponies of Honeyfield to gory pieces, their blood spilling on the ground as they ran about screaming in pitiful terror as their predator sucked the marrow from the bones of the fallen. That would be a poor ending for all.

I excused myself from Stalwart and did what I could to make myself presentable. Between a few potions and spells, and a fine breakfast of an egg omelet and sliced potatoes, I at least felt like I could approach the trials of the day. Even if there was still a weary ache in my movements. Every fiber of my being hoped that this would be a short hunt, and that I would be able to quickly return to bed without worry of some monster smashing through my window and tearing my throat out. I wished for sleep, aye, but not the eternal rest of death.

By the time I reached the castle courtyard, there was already a considerable gathering. Between those intent on going with the hunt and those seeing them off, it looked as though almost the entirety of the castle's inhabitants were out and about. Sir Rumble was speaking with the merchant Coin Count and some of the servants of the castle while the knight’s bloodhounds ran about, barking in excitement as the hunt approached. Captain Freezy conferred with a squad of her fellow pegasi house guards, each armed and armored.

I began mine approach to the ground but was almost immediately set upon by the hounds. I scarcely had time to react before they were upon me, rubbing themselves against me and licking my face in unrequited love. This was wholly beneath my dignity, but I knew not how to fend off this pack without offending my hosts.

Rather than rush to mine aid, as was his duty as my bodyguard, Stalwart stood to one side with a faint smile gracing his lips, as if there was some perverse joke to be had in my suffering.

I heard a familiar chuckle behind me. “They adore you, Magus,” Émeraude said, stepping just short of the pack. She was irritatingly chipper for having been up just as late as myself. Damnable fae; while I felt half-dead in the morning, Émeraude looked as though she had gotten a full night’s rest.

“They do, at that.” Mine every muscles tensed as the dogs rubbed dirt onto me and licked my cheeks, undermining mine efforts to maintain my dignity.

“Do not think poorly of them,” Émeraude said. “They just wish to show their affection in their own way.” She whistled, and the dogs immediately dispersed to gather at her hooves. She leaned down and addressed them in a tone one would normally reserve for particularly young children. “Is that not right, my lovelies? You love the magus, neigh?! Oh aye! Oh aye indeed, you love the magus so dearly!”

“Your hounds seem well disciplined when you wish to bring them to heel,” I observed, vainly brushing some of the dirt off of me.

“It is something of a talent of mine.” She stroked the side of one of the hounds as it rubbed against her. “My sire adored his dogs, and he passed that love onto his children. Breeding them had been a family hobby ever since.” She glanced up at the battlements, and the ravens which had come to roost upon them. “But it seems that I am not the only one with an affinity for animals.”

Mine entourage from the Great Unkindness drew many a nervous glance from Émeraude’s own servants. I did not know why; the Great Unkindness was as well-mannered as any hunting hound, and only visited pain and slaughter upon ponies when I bid them to slay mine enemies in a black tide of feathers and talons and beaks.

“The Great Unkindness is most queerly fond of me,” I admitted. “They follow me wherever I go, and they do have their uses.” Ravens had always been drawn to me, but their affinity had only increased with time. Moreso than ever as I took lessons from Corva. “Also, they usually desire corn. Could some be delivered for them?”

Upon being recognized, the Great Unkindness started a great ruckus as they cawed, “Corn! Corn! Corn!”

Émeraude shrugged. “‘Tis better to spare a couple bags of feed than to have them ravage the countryside. I will see to it that the servants deal with the matter.”

“Will you not be joining us?”

Émeraude shook her head. “Not this time. I think my place is at my home this day.”

I was tempted to ask why, but I suspected I would only get an evasive answer on the topic. “If that is where you feel you need to be then so be it.” I glanced Rumble’s way and espied a pair of his servants struggling not to be dragged away by the score of bloodhounds on leashes. “Rumble intents on using the hounds to hunt down our quarry.” Admittedly, that would be quite useful if they could track the monster’s scent, despite some concerns that they might warn our quarry we were coming.

“They should be of some use to you.” Émeraude gave one hound a final pat on the flank ere dismissing it to her bidding. “They are trained for the hunt, and Rumble knows how to use them. He does love his hunts and this should show his talents.”

“That is good to hear.” I privately doubted Rumble’s reliability, but there was little I could do to stop him from joining in the hunt if he so desired—especially if he was the one directing the hounds. I for one could do little beyond discourage them from rubbing their dirt-ridden bodies against me, so their control was best left to the professionals.

“And what about you, Magus?” Émeraude asked. “I imagine one of your ability would have means by which to aid in the hunt.”

“I do indeed.” I showed a lock of hair from underneath my cloak. “A tracking spell using a lock of Shining’s mane should be most useful, for there are only two sources of Shining’s flesh in this world: the corpse lying within the castle, and the portions of which lie in this monster’s belly.”

Émeraude hummed to herself as she glanced at the lock. “I see. Are you sure that will still be effective? The monster has had some time to digest its last meal.”

“There are a couple other tracking spells I can attempt if this fails.” I shrugged and put the lock away. “There should still be a strong link ‘tween murder and victim still linked by blood, for Shining’s essence would still be ‘pon the creature that did this. That will be simple enough to follow.”

“So long as it resolves the matter.” Émeraude glanced to her nephew. “Though you should hurry if you are going to cast your spell. Rumble is impatient to start the hunt.”

“Aye, best not to delay any further,” I agreed. “If there is nothing else we need discuss, good day to you.”

“To you as well. Good hunting.” Émeraude gave me a slight courtesy, then turned to go, her hips swaying as she returned to the castle.

“You are staring, Magus,” Stalwart murmured.

I blinked and looked away. “I was not.”

The sergeant smirked ever so slightly. “No, of course not. How silly of me.”

I frowned and turned away from him. I had not been staring at Émeraude as she departed. I had merely been ... drawn in by her fey charms, most likely. Many of the sidhe had powerful auras, and so ‘twas only natural to be attracted to them to some extent. Aye, that was it. In any event, there was work to be done.

Thus, I trotted to the gathered hunters. As I approached, Coin narrowed his heavily bagged eyes at me. “'Tis about time you arrived. We have been dallying about whilst waiting for you. You insisted we wait until the morn before you began your hunt, but who is the last to arrive? You.”

I frowned, misliking his scolding tone. True, his friend had been suddenly and brutally killed, but that was little excuse to be so rude. “Mine apologies for being later than I desired, but there were important matters that delayed me.”

Coin snorted derisively, his face flushed. “My friend would have been avenged already if not for this delay. Who knows who else might have been slain while you dithered? This is a disgrace, and you discredit your order, Magus. When I return home, I and my friends will write a letter to Canterlot condemning your behavior in the strictest manner possible.”

I could guess quite accurately how Mother would react to such a letter if she received it, though she might at least read it in full before discarding it in the nearest hearth. While unideal, I was reasonably certain my course of action was right. Especially if I had correctly guessed what type of beast we now hunted.

Before I could tell Coin what I thought of his protests, though, Rumble entered the conversation. “Ah, quit your moaning and whining. You are yapping more than the dogs. The magus is right; 'tis foolish to go hunting a beastie such as this in the middle of the night. I did not see you rushing after it last night.”

Coin bristled at the reproach. “Because my friend had just been slain! My place was by her side.” A tremor ran through his body. “And I am a merchant, not a warrior. Let us be honest, I would have only been in the way. But the fact I am not a warrior does not preclude me from seeing that little is being done. If I saw mine employees being so sloth in doing their jobs I would have had them fired.”

“Coin Counter,” I said in a flat tone, wishing to be done with the merchant so that I could do something more constructive than argue with him. “‘Tis clear that you are grieving your friend’s death, so how about you see to her and her business? It seems you are used to doing so, and I am sure her ever-so-noble family will desire to hear what has befallen her. Truly, having such a gem lost to them will dishearten them ... as well as your business partners.” I gave him a meaningful look as I narrowed mine eyes.

Coin seemed to grasp my true meaning, for he blinked dumbly and his mouth worked wordlessly for a long moment. He recovered soon enough and drew himself up, though his tone was more subdued than it had been. “Aye, you are right. I will attend to Shining in the meantime, but above all I wished for the creature that attacked her to be slain. While I am no warrior, I have other means to get what I desire. Five hundred, neigh, five thousand bits to whoever slays this beast. I care not who does it or how, merely that it is done.”

Freezy’s nostrils flared. “We are not your bounty hunters, merchant.”

Coin lifted his nose to look down on Freezy. “I will have my friend avenged, even if I must hire a band of mercenaries to see it done. Do your job or do not waste my time further. Good day to all of you.” Without giving us time for a proper response, he turned and stomped away. In truth, I was happy to let him go. Mayhaps time would cool his temper, or mayhaps this was the real Coin Counter, now revealed that his schemes were laid bare and in ruin. I could not say for certain either way, but I did not have time to waste to find out.

Rumble spat on the ground, glaring at Coin’s back as he departed. “Damn merchants, thinking they can buy whatever they want.”

Freezy grunted in agreement. “I cannot say I will be sorry to see him leave Honeyfield.”

“Let us concentrate on the matter at hoof,” I suggested. “I will feel better once this monster has been dealt with and peace returned to the land.”

“Sounds good to me.” Rumble took a boar spear from a servant and draped it across his back. “It has been too long since I last slew some beastie and mounted it on my wall.”

“Have we found a trail to follow?” I asked.

Rumble grinned widely and patted one of his hounds. “Damn right we have. My bloodhounds have not failed me once in all my hunts, and they are not bound to today. They have the scent of this monster and are raring to run it down.”

Freezy nodded and gestured towards the window the monster had climbed through. “We also found tracks that my guards followed to the nearby woods.”

“Welcome news, then.” My horn lit up as I cast a tracking spell, using Shining’s lock of hair as a focus. “Do the tracks offer any clue about what type of monster we face?”

Freezy’s wings twitched. “We are not entirely sure. The prints were canine, certainly, but I could discern little else.”

Stalwart nodded. “‘Tis not a creature I am readily familiar with. Mine instincts say ‘tis some sort of wolf, but I am not sure what exact species. ‘Tis too large to be a normal wolf, yet too small to be a dire wolf—a full grown one, in any event.”

I immediately noted a problem with the hypothesis. “And what wolf do you know of that can climb up a sheer stone wall?”

“No natural creature,” Stalwart admitted. “I do declare that everything about this thing’s behavior is queer to me.”

Stalwart had spent time in the Long Patrol and spent years training the youth of his clan in the warrior arts, so if he did not know what sort of creature we faced, it was almost no doubt a rare or unusual one. This was yet more information I put into the puzzle before me, and a solid picture now formed.

I finished my tracking spell and immediately felt it tug in the direction of the woods. “I think it likely that we face some sort of supernatural creature. ‘Tween this creature never having menaced the county before, its strange behavior, and that none can easily identify its tracks, it strikes me that we are dealing with something alien.”

Freezy stiffened, and her eyes narrowed. “Some sort of demon, perhaps?”

I shook my head. “I see it as unlikely. I considered that myself while I was eating my breakfast, so I studied the protective wards of the castle. (1) While they are faded, they have not been broken. If a creature such as a demon forced its way into the castle, the wards would have shown it.”

1. As is the case today, many important buildings (especially castles or other such fortifications) had various wards placed on them to prevent intrusion by certain types of spirits. While varying in quality because they had to be long-lasting and able to deal with a wide variety of potential intruders, the protective wards during this time period were useful in at least slowing down an intruder, if not stopping them completely.

“Bah!” Rumble waved a dismissive hoof. “Let us stop picking over every last detail like gossiping hens and get to the hunt. We will know what we are dealing with when we see it. And whatever the monster is, a good few inches of steel should be enough to end it.”

“Knowledge is often the best weapon ‘gainst a monster,” I countered. “Understanding our quarry could make our task much easier.”

Rumble barked out a laugh. “Exactly what I would expect some bookworm magus to say. You need to spend less time with your books and more time getting out and into the world. Out here you can live your life instead of just reading about it.”

I frowned. “I find books quite useful.”

“Anyway,” Freezy interjected, “it would be best if we got going.” She opened her wings and hovered over the ground. “I and my fellow guards will watch from the skies while the rest of you proceed over the ground. We will lead the charge and harass the monster when we have identified it.”

“That sounds reasonable.” In truth, I expected Freezy to do whatever she desired when it came to battle. It seemed best to go along with any reasonable proposal. I could always assist her and her fellow pegasi with my spells from a distance.

Rumble stretched his limbs as he limbered up. “As long as thou and thy flying turkeys do not steal all the glory. We will have words if you kill the beast before I get a single charge in.”

Freezy glowered at Rumble. “I will do as my duty demands.”

Rumble returned her glower, not backing down. “And as the future count of Honeyfield, I am going to be thy master. Do not forget that.”

I interpose myself between Rumble and Freezy to stave off the brewing conflict. “Rumble, could you release the hounds? Freezy, be so kind as to start scouting ahead. The sooner we bring down this monster the better for all of us.”

The two of them glared at each other for a long moment, but eventually they broke their deadlock and turned away from one another. Rumble barked orders to his servants, and soon we were following his hounds as they sniffed out the scent of our quarry. For his part, Stalwart followed along my side.

We moved at a brisk pace. I was thankful that I had taken to running as part of my morning exercises, otherwise I would soon have found myself badly winded by the experience. As it was the start of our trip was merely uncomfortable, but not nearly unbearably so. Even if gallivanting about the countryside was not desirable to me.

As we proceeded forward, Rumble took a canteen from one of his servants and drank heavily from it, then offered it to me with a grin. “A drink for you, milady?”

I sniffed and detected the aroma of wine from within the canteen. “Should you be drinking so early in the morning?” I asked, pushing it away. The last thing a magus needed to do while chasing down a monster was become intoxicated. Such tales where it did happen rarely ended well, and usually with the magus’ sudden and premature demise.

“Bah!” Rumble took another deep draft of his wine. “You are just like my mother and Émeraude, always naggin’ me about when and how much I should be drinking. I will tell you what I tell them: I am not some wee little maiden who cannot hold his drink. Nothing wrong about enjoying a hunt with some drink, neither.”

I could not help but find many faults with his logic. “Drink will slow your reflexes and impair judgement—something that could lead to fatal consequences, such as being pounced ‘pon by the monster and having its claws rip into your flesh as his teeth clench down on your throat, both snapping your neck with a savage jerk of its head and then tearing your throat out, resulting in you either dying instantly or choking on your blood as the monster then rips out your entrails to feast upon.”

My warning had the opposite effect I desired. Rumble threw his head back in a big belly laugh. “My, you are a morbid little creature, aren’t you?!” He patted me roughly on the back, the gesture from such a large, barrel-chested stallion nearly knocking me to the dirt. “Always good to see a maiden who is not afraid of a little blood and guts! What about thee, sergeant? A drink to liven the hunt?”

Stalwart shook his head. “I do not drink while on duty.”

Rumble shrugged. “Suit thyself. Leaves more for me.” To emphasize his point, he took yet another swig from his canteen, emptying it in the process.

Recognizing the futility of convincing my sloven companion to stop drinking, I decided to concentrate on more worthwhile ventures. Since we were relatively alone, now seemed like an opportune time to ask Rumble some questions. “So, if I may change the topic, may I inquire why you desire to become the Count of Honeyfield?”

“What?” Rumble tossed the canteen to a nearby servant before turning his full attention to me. “‘Tis not hard to figure out: ‘tis mine by right, obviously.”

I shrugged, keeping my tone neutral as I continued. “Some might argue that High Stakes’ daughter should inherit the title. She is quite possibly his only remaining living child.”

Rumble snorted at the suggestion. “You would give a whole county to a little sprite like Snowfall? Come now, Magus, I love my niece to death, but a bookworm such you must know how bad of an idea that is. She would be eaten alive by the other nobles and everypony else around her. Even her mother does not want the title for her.”

“That is a point.” Child rulers rarely turned out well, and far too many things could end poorly for Snowfall. The child could end up as nothing more than a puppet even once she became an adult, or the affairs of the county could be poorly maintained. That did not even get into all that could happen to the child when greedy family and foreign enemies were accounted for as well. “Did the late count ever give his own opinions on who should succeed him?”

“Not all that much,” Rumble grumbled. “I tried to broach the topic a couple of times, but he never wanted to talk of it, not after we lost Roller. It always returned him to his melancholy, so I stopped bringing it up.” He stopped walking for a moment to scratch his chin. “He did mention the idea of Snowfall succeeding him someday when she was older. We had a few scares with his health over the years, and after Snowfall was born that offered him the chance to pass his title to his child if he lived long enough.”

“But now you are against the idea?” This was important information. I had only found a few windows into the late count’s thoughts, especially where the succession was concerned.

“Like I said, she’s too young,” Rumble replied. “Do not misunderstand me, I am not about to kick my kin out into the cold. As long as I am in charge she will have a roof over her head, hot food in her belly, and anything else she might need. I am thinkin’ I will make her a knight too, and find her a fine marriage when the time comes. Snowfall’s all I got left of High now, and I swear I will give her a happy life if 'tis within my power.”

“Admirable, even if it might run counter to her father’s wishes.”

“Bah! Best that Honeyfield were ran by a pony with a strong hoof.” Rumble grinned and patted his boar spear. “Nopony is going to push me around, something all the more important with war coming.”

“You think there will be war?”

Rumble’s grin disappeared into a grim scowl. “I do not like what I hear about this new gryphon king—what is his name—Severe or somesuch?”

“Severus,” I corrected.

Rumble waved dismissively. “Whatever. Point is, I feel war coming in my bones. ‘Tis the same feeling I got before we went to war with the pegasi. This new king came to his throne through bloodshed, and I do not see him stopping after seizing the throne. No, he’s a young king looking for glory and loot. He’s going to look around and see Equestria as a big, fat golden egg-laying goose.”

I grunted unhappily, for I too was wary of High King Severus. What I had heard of him did not give me much confidence. “Her Highness is hoping to reason with him and that peace can be maintained. Gryphonia has only just finished a decade-long civil war. At the very least, it will take him time to consolidate his reign and rebuild his nation to a point where it can go to war with Equestria.”

Not to mention Mother hoped that the lords of Gryphonia could be encouraged to ... resist to the demands of their king. (2)

2. Up to this point in time, it was a common policy for Equestria to encourage Gryphonia’s lords to rebel against their monarch, often funneling money and material support to one faction or another through the centuries in order to keep Gryphonia weak through division. Considering the few rare periods where Gryphonia was united under a strong monarch almost always resulted in a war with Equestria, it’s not hard to see why Equestria favored fomenting internal divisions.

“With all respect to the princess, I do not see it working this time around either.” Rumble led the way as we reached the edge of the woods where the monster’s tracks disappeared into, and he pulled his boar spear from his back. “If we are to face war, Honeyfield needs a strong hoof in charge, not a child just off her mother’s teats. And Shining’s dead, so no sense even considering her. Pity, too—she had a nice tight rear just asking for a good slap.”

I scowled at Rumble’s back as we continued through the woods. ‘Twas true that a child ruler was hardly an ideal choice to take over Honeyfield, but I was not so confident about leaving Rumble in charge either. While he struck me as a capable warrior when he was not sodden with drink, his character was of suspect. It struck me as unlikely he would be able to fix Honeyfield’s finances, and I could easily see him using the public coffers to feed his various hungers. Then there were his manners, his love of drink, and his behavior towards mares...

However I looked at it, I did not see a wholly satisfactory solution to the problem before me. Still, there were a couple things to bring up with Rumble. “And what of the stallion who claims to be High Roller?” I asked, stepping over a fallen log. “He says he can produce some proof that he is who he says he is, and if ‘tis true he would be the lawful heir to his father’s title.”

Rumble hocked and spat on the ground. “If he is my nephew then I am a flying pig. Let me tell you how it is: Roller meant the world to Stakes, and it devastated his father when he didn’t return from the war. Thus 'twas a great surprise to us when Roller returned to us out of the blue less than a year after the war’s end. There was great cause for celebration, and my cousin’s spirits were greatly improved by the return of his son.”

I could guess the course of this story. “And this was in fact not High Roller?”

Rumble growled and chopped down a branch blocking our way. “Aye. A couple of weeks after Roller returned to us, a knight from the Order of Sol Invictus came to us and denounced him as a fraud. The pony whom claimed to be my nephew was naught but a con artist who used illusions and transformation magic to disguise himself and swindle honest ponies of anything of value. His disguise was so perfect that none of us were the wiser. Nopony except Émeraude, anyways. She called for a knight that was on the trail of the swindler. The lass fancied herself some sort of investigator and warlock hunter.” (3) Rumble’s severe expression lightened somewhat. “She was a pretty lass, too. Pity she had no interest in a fun romp for the night.”

3. Records say that this knight was Dame White Knight, who at this point her career was on a mission to track down the con artist and identity thief Double Ditto. It was during the time period after the Lunar Rebellion that she started to gain her reputation as a formidable investigator and warlock hunter.

“And the pony who had pretended to be Roller?” I asked, trying to return the conversation to less lecherous topics.

“Arrested and dragged off in chains by the lass.” Rumble shrugged. “There were a great many ponies he had swindled, and the knight hoped to recoup at least some of their losses by interrogating him. I was more concerned with my cousin, who returned to melancholy after his son was once again stolen from him. In truth, Roller probably died during that massacre when the warlocks betrayed us, or else in the prisoner camps. I knew of more than one pony who got dragged off by those damnable warlocks and was never seen again.”

“I see.” That would explain why Rumble was so dismissive of his new would-be nephew. “It seems you have good reasons to be wary.”

“Damn right I do.” Rumble walked around a bush, his gaze switching between some overly large canine tracks and to where his hounds were going. “And that fraud was not the last to try and trick us. Though we knew to be cautious by then, and I still am now. Be honest, you cannot help but think the circumstances by which that pony had come to us was not suspicious. He proclaims this wild story about being captured by pirates, taken to Freeport, and then escaping just in time to claim his inheritance from his recently dead father. Any who believes that story deserves to be swindled.”

“It is far-fetched, admittedly.” I had every intention of being completely sure either way, but there seemed to be little reason to upset Rumble with that information.

“So, now that we are done hemming and hawing over why everypony else should not be the count, you can get about declaring me as the rightful heir of Honeyfield.” He let out an uproarious laugh and drew me close by wrapping a strong leg around my shoulders. He smirked lecherously down at me as he held me, holding me close enough to smell the wine on him. “And then after we have slain this monster, mounted it on the wall, and declare me count, we could have an enjoyable night together to celebrate?”

“I think not.” I cleared my throat and pushed out of Rumble’s hold. Whatever I might have been thinking about the succession for the county of Honeyfield, I had little desire to engage in that with him. Thankfully, Stalwart came to mine aid when he placed himself between myself and Rumble and fixed the knight with a stony face.

“Bah!” Rumble took another canteen from one of his servants. “Nothing like a good roll in the hay after a brush with death. You do not know what you are missing.”

“I think I will survive,” I informed him. “Besides, I would have you know that your great aunt offered me a similar proposal.”

Wine sprayed from Rumble’s lips as he sputtered, and he nearly fell on his face. “Ye gods, I did not need to hear that! A mare her age should not go around trying to snatch up comely fillies like that!”

“Her being a mare may only be a technicality,” I mused.

“I do not want to hear about it!” Rumble motioned sharply to one of the servants. “More wine! I want to forget I ever heard this!” He drank deeply from his fresh canteen as he departed our company. Something I did not mind at all.

“That was a bit terrible of you, milady,” Stalwart murmured.

“It made him stop, did it not?”

Stalwart hummed in affirmation. “That much is true. Nonetheless, I would be careful where the fey is concerned.”

“I have every intention of being so,” I assured him.

Still, mine interview with Rumble uncovered valuable information, even if the facts of the situation before me only seemed to be growing more complicated. Shining’s death and Count High Stakes’ murder added problems to the equation I had not needed, but the facts were what they were, and ‘twas my duty to do what I could to find justice in Honeyfield. Even if the majority of Honeyfield was unaware that their count had been murdered.

That I intended to keep to myself for the moment. If the murderer knew I was onto them, they might seek to destroy what little evidence was left of their misdeed. For the time being they must have thought they were in the clear, and that was to mine advantage.

Dealing with this monster would be an even greater boon.


We continued through the woods as we followed the mysterious tracks. The trip would not have been so bad were it not for the dirt and grime clung to me, and the fact that at any moment we could be ambushed by some supernatural predator determined to feast on our flesh.

We were in the process of climbing our way over some fallen trees when Captain Freezy flew down to us. She landed, her face as grim as ever. “We found something you should see.”

“And what is it?” I asked.

“I think it best for you to see it with your own eyes to judge first.” Something flickered over her features before she added, “I believe that was your method for investigating, was it not?”

“It has its uses.” As Mother had taught me, ‘twas practical to let everypony come to their own conclusions about what had happened during a crime before they spoke to one another. It helped prevent one party from biasing the others right from the start, especially if one of them was more prestigious than the other. In more than one instance, important facts or theories could be dismissed or left unheard merely because the most important pony in the room had spoken first and controlled the conversation from then on.

Stalwart motioned to Freezy. “Please, lead the way.”

“Very well.”

Since it looked like it would take a bit of time for us to arrive at our destination and Freezy did not seem to be in a rush to get there, I decided now would be a good time to speak with her. “Captain, would you mind if ask thee a few questions?”

Freezy glanced at me out of narrowed eyes. “What is it you wished to ask?”

“I was curious about thy relationship with the late count.”

Freezy’s brow furrowed and her voice cracked like a whip. “Why? So you can gossip about us at the Canterlot court? Will you talk with your highborn friends of the scandalous affair ‘tween a count and the head of his guard, and titter in disapproval of their bastard daughter as you sip ‘pon your fine wines?”

I glared back at her, not caring for her tone. “Neigh, I ask so that I can better understand how best to handle the succession. Gossip is of little use to me.” Not that I had many friends with which to enjoy gossip anyways. Most that were interested in speaking about such things were hardly worth speaking with to start with, or were merely trying to gain valuable information from me. Besides, I was more often the subject of such gossip than a purveyor.

Stalwart raised a hoof to try and forestall further objections. “Peace, Captain. I assure you, Magus Midnight is an honorable mare who has nothing but good intentions.”

Freezy’s gaze flicked between us before she turned to continue walking. “If ‘tis the succession you wish to hear about, then you have already heard everything I care to say on the matter. I merely wish for my daughter to receive a stipend to allow her to live comfortably.”

I had not forgotten what she had told me of course, but I was not wholly satisfied with her answer. “Thy daughter has the opportunity to become one of the great ladies of Equestria. Does that not interest thee?”

“No,” she stated firmly. “Your Unicornian titles are naught but a trap as far as I am concerned. Whoever takes on one of your titles is caught up in a terrible game where struggling with the other lords of the country becomes a way of life, whatever your intentions or desires. All of you ceaselessly play your politics, scheme, and plot to destroy one another for trivial exchanges. Neigh, I wish none of that for my daughter. Not when she is but a child.” She looked to me. “Tell me, Magus, how many children who come to inherit a title suffer an unfortunate accident, or lead short and unhappy lives where they are crushed by the burden of an inheritance they never asked for?”

“Too many.” It was no secret that inheritance going to the eldest child was an imperfect system. ‘Twas inevitable that ponies would inherit a title they were unsuited for sooner or later, and more than one great family has been destroyed because of the poor stewardship of an incapable successor. Hence why Her Highness often had to intervene personally when such things occurred. Though it was hard to deny that more than mere accidents had happened to young lords and ladies whom had yet to reach their majorities, as well as jealous family members or rivals.

The guard captain nodded. “And I want none of that for my daughter.”

“And what did her father desire?” I asked.

Freezy whirled about and snapped at me with unexpected ferocity. “I am her mother, and as Snowfall’s sole remaining parent I know what is best for her!” An awkward silence fell over the forest, Freezy’s sudden screaming taking me and Stalwart aback. Seeming to realize she had overreacted, her fierce glare soften and she averted her gaze from us. “Mine apologies. What I meant to say was that with High ... gone, ‘tis I who should make these decisions for Snowfall. My daughter is too young to decide on such a thing.”

“She could always decide for herself once she reaches her majority,” I pointed out. “It is the right of anypony to decline a title if they do not desire it.”

“And expose her to the dangers of being a countess in her minority? I think not.” Freezy shook her head and huffed. “It was not like this in Pegasopolis. There were no worries about who was married to who, or how a child was born. We certainly had no worries about who would rule us either, for only those that had earned their rank rose, and there was none of this conflict ‘tween ponies like you see in Unicornia.”

“Is that why the Ephorate was controlled by but a few families?”

Freezy froze in her steps. “Excuse me?”

“I think it not a coincidence that many of the ephors had parents that were also ephors,” I said. “Mayhaps ‘twas not always the eldest child who inherited their parent’s position, but it was rare for the post to drift to further than a first cousin. At least for the first four seats in the Ephorate, controlled by the Doo, Steel, Kicker, and Charger clans. The fifth was often traded between whichever minor clan had risen to prominence when the position opened, and even then each had a family that typically dominated their clans and provided leadership. Sometimes the family that held prominence changed, but that is true of Unicornia as well, as the passage of time causes some families to rise and others to fall in fortune.”

Freezy’s eyes narrowed. “Pegasopolis and Unicornia were nothing alike. Unicornia is controlled by decadent nobles and doddering magi who accomplished nothing, while Pegasopolis was ruled by honorable and strong warriors who defended Equestria.”

I scowled at the house guard captain’s attempt to scold me. “Mayhaps that was true of old Pegasopolis, but that was not true of the Pegasopolis I came to know.”

“Milady,’ Stalwart hissed, a warning I cared little for.

Freezy turned to face me. “What foolishness are you speaking of, Magus?”

I blinked slowly as I came to a stop in front of her. “While I will allow that the Pegasopolis of old may have been an honorable nation of warriors, the Pegasopolis of the last war was not. Aye, there were some who held onto their honor, but the nation as a whole had fallen. The Pegasopolis I knew declared war not because ‘twas just, but because they thought ‘twould be an easy war ‘gainst shopkeepers and farmers. The last ephors thought they could become the hegemons of Equestria by removing the rightful queen of Unicornia.”

“That is a lie!” Freezy’s wings snapped out as she glared down at me.

Stalwart placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Magus, now is not—”

“I am not done, Sergeant,” I interrupted, not bothering to look his way. “Thou wouldst declare my words a lie? Pegasopolis said it fought for the right of self-determination of mortal ponies, but the ephors continued their war when Unicornia declared they wished to keep their queen. Even when peace could easily have been obtained with Pegasopolian and earth pony independent from Queen Celestia’s rule. What’s more, for all its declarations of honor, it did not take long for Pegasopolis to call on the aid of foul warlocks for their cause.”

“It was not our wish to work with them!” Freezy shot back. “That was all Swift Blade’s work. He fooled us and corrupted our cause.”

I held Freezy’s gaze. “And yet you tolerated them within your ranks, and then you accepted the leadership of the Avatar. Even when there was an obvious evil amongst your numbers, you did nothing.”

Freezy huffed and turned her back to me. “Evil as declared by Unicornia. You are in no place to claim your justness, not when Unicornia was lead by an evil foalslayer like Sunbeam Sparkle.”

My jaw tightened at the mention of Mother. “My—while the Archmagus of Canterlot may not have been a pony of virtue, I would still take her ten times over the warlock and the Avatar. Unicornia sacrificed nopony to fight their war while Pegasopolis aided the warlocks in sacrificing two archmagi and more for their foul magics.” I lowered my voice as I continued. “And I remember well a night where an innocent filly was prepared to be sacrificed to the Avatar, all while the heterori, the best and brightest ‘mongst the sons and daughters of Pegasopolis, watched and aided the warlocks in their aims.”

“I need not listen to another word of this!” Freezy shot me one late hateful glare and spread her wings. “Follow the trail on your own. I will go on ahead to seek out our quarry. I think the monster’s company will better suit me than your own.” At that she flew off, leaving me and Stalwart alone.

My bodyguard let out a long sigh. “You should not have done that. The topic of Pegasopolis is a sore one for many pegasi.”

I turned away from Stalwart, not wanting to look at him directly. “What I said was nothing but the truth.”

“Mayhaps, but that does not mean you should have said it.” Stalwart removed his helmet to run his hoof through his yellow mane. “‘Tis unwise to offend a pony whose help we may need.”

Mine ears wilted slightly. “Aye, that is a point... I may have went too far.” Mayhaps my mother’s temper manifested within me again. She was a fiery pony, and there were times when it was most difficult for me to keep my composure. I shook my head to try and clear my thoughts. “But ‘tis frustrating to hear ponies idealizing Pegasopolis when it fell far from those ideals, especially near the end.”

“Many pegasi like Freezy have struggled since the Rebellion,” Stalwart said. “Save those that remained loyal to the Commander, pegasi who were once proud warriors now struggle to find their place in the world and make ends meet. Before, pegasi never had to worry about how they were to eat or where they would sleep, as ‘twas all taken care of by the state.”

“More like provided by Unicornia and the earth ponies,” I grumbled, scratching my leg. “Pegasi certainly seem to enjoy lording over ponies how they nobly defended us, but are slow to acknowledge how ‘twas the hard work of unicorns and earth ponies that fed them and gave them the arms and armor that let them be warriors.”

“I think that is a bit harsh of you,” Stalwart said with a shake of his head. “Most understood that cooperation was the key to all our survival, ‘tis just that most pegasi were proud of who and what they were. Now though...” He stared off in the direction Freezy had flown. “Being a house guard or a mercenary is a far cry from serving as a proud warrior and protector of a nation. And that is for those lucky enough to find a job where they can bear arms—most make do with far more mundane jobs that leaves their warrior souls crying in anguish.”

I headed after Rumble and his hounds, not wanting to fall too far behind as I fell into my thoughts. “Then mayhaps they should not have started and kept fighting a war that ultimately destroyed Pegasopolis.”

Stalwart followed alongside me, maintaining his even tone. “Few knew that was how the war would end. Most did not think Pegasopolis could lose, much less be destroyed. Pegasopolis had endured the Great Migration, numerous wars with the gryphons, the invasion of King Sombra, and countless other trials over many centuries. ‘Twas unimaginable to think the war with Unicornia would be our undoing.”

I scratched my neck as we weaved our way through the trees, thinking how best to reply. “So I am to excuse their actions because they were ignorant of what would happen? That they did not know that their course was self-destructive?”

“No, not that,” Stalwart answered. “Merely that I think it best you understand what plagues them. Their pride as warriors has been wounded, perhaps fatally. Their very spirits bleed, and it does not seem that the wound will close anytime soon.”

“'Twas my mother’s intention to fatally wound Pegasopolis,” I stated firmly. “As long as it stood and the pegasi had the means to fight, there was going to be another war, simple as that.”

Stalwart grimaced as though he had been struck by a spear. “And I am not arguing against that or your logic. But 'tis not logic I call for, but empathy.” The sergeant hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I ask that you do not repeat what I am about to say, but I think you should know something about the captain.”

I frowned but then waved for him to continue. “Aye, I promise not to discuss what thou wilt tell me.”

Stalwart nodded. “You should know that Freezy lost much of her family during the war. The fighting in the tunnels under Canterlot in particular took their toll.” His look became distant. Mayhaps he was reminded of his own time during the siege, of being wounded or how he lost his wife during in those same tunnels. “Her brother was ‘mongst the heteriori, and died when the Avatar and her warlocks were defeated.”

Realization sparked. “Ah, they would explain why she chose to retire from the argument. I reminded her of how her brother had died.”

“And talking of the dishonor that took place in Pure Line’s manor did not help,” Stalwart agreed. “Nearly everypony lost somepony to that siege, and the pegasi who fought ‘gainst the Commander do not even have the benefit of having a victory to justify their sacrifices.” I opened my mouth to protest but Stalwart held up a hoof to forestall me. “Again, ‘tis not the justice of their cause I argue for, but understanding where these pegasi stand as ponies.”

I scowled as I mulled over his words. While I had no sympathy for the rebels’ cause, I could at least understand the pain they felt after their defeat. Pegasopolis’ defeat was total as ‘twas final. For warriors who placed so much value on their honor and pride, their souls could never recover from such a loss.

We all expect something for our sacrifices. Magi studied and practiced magic to perfect their abilities, farmers farmed to gain bounty from the land, and craftponies worked their crafts to make a profit with their wares. What was a warrior that knew only defeat? When they prepared from birth for combat only to be wholly defeated in the single most important war of their lives, and then had their arms and armor stripped from them? Even their identities had been torn from them when the clans had been dissolved. I found I did not have a satisfactory answer. The only way forward I could see was for each pegasus to find a new path for themselves that did not include war, but I knew that few of them would find that a palatable answer.

“I think I understand the meaning of thy words,” I said.

“Good, for there was another way by which you offended her.” I raised an eyebrow and he continued. “She thought you were going to give the county to Snowfall despite her expressed desires.”

“I said no such thing,” I protested. “I have made no decision yet regarding the succession and only sought to clarify where she stood.”

Stalwart held a branch out of my way so that I could move past it. “I do not think that is how she saw it. You spoke of the idea, how it might benefit Snowfall, and what her sire might have desired, all despite the fact that she had firmly stated her own wishes for Snowfall. I wish no offense, but you can come across as ... quarrelsome if a conversation becomes a debate.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Last I checked, a debate usually had at least two opponents to be an actual debate.”

“Aye, but you need not argue with everypony merely because they have given an opinion you disagree with,” Stalwart stated. “Arguments are like battles: some are not worth fighting. Because you have offended Freezy deeply, she will be less likely to cooperate with us or listen to whatever you have to say about her daughter. Was that worth winning some passing discourse?”

I let out a sigh. “In that light, neigh.”

Stalwart looked off in the direction Freezy had flown. “I will see if I can make peace with her later, once her temper has had time to cool.”

“I would appreciate it.” It seemed that I might have unknowingly been foolish. That was irksome. One of the last things I needed to do was create more trouble for myself when I already had plenty to deal with. I was far too tired to have to think so hard and consider how everypony might perceive every word I might say. At least in Canterlot I had a better idea how ponies were to take my words.

“In any event, it seems that we have found what the captain wished to show us.” Stalwart pushed aside some branches to reveal a clearing.

Rumble stood alongside his dogs and servants, tapping his hoof impatiently. “About time you got here. Freezy and her band have already struck out ahead, and I do not plan on waiting for them to get the glory. Do your business here and come along.” Without giving us time to react, he barked orders to his servants, then made off further into the woods with his dogs.

I frowned after him, but there was little point in stopping Rumble if he was determined to go. It seemed also that Freezy might hunt down the beast with her guard without assistance now that I had offended her. That could lead to unfortunate results if she let her anger cloud her judgment, but first I needed to determine what had caused both Freezy and Rumble to dash forth.

I followed the monster’s tracks with Stalwart’s assistance, and a peculiar thing revealed itself before me. Where before our quarry’s steps had seemed purposeful, even if it did not seem to have any specific destination in mind as it wound its way through the woods, they suddenly seemed to be staggering about the gale as though the creature had become drunk and could hardly remain on its paws. Then they became all the more curious: the paw prints changed, slowly shifting shape with each step until they became …  hooves. Whatever it had been, the creature had evidently collapsed onto the ground, its impression faintly held by the surrounding loam.

“Most curious,” I mused.

Stalwart carefully studied the prints, and a deep frown creased his features. “What do you make of it?”

“Likely we deal with a lycanthrope,” I stated. “A werewolf most likely, unless I miss my guess.”

Stalwart’s wings twitched and he stretched them out as he glanced out into the woods. “How certain are you?”

“Reasonably so.” Feeling a particularly annoying itch, I scratched my shoulder. “The fact the attack happened during the full moon, the supernatural strength of the beast that killed Shining, its unusual behavior, and now evidence of shapeshifting before us. Though now I am curious about what type of lycanthrope we now deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are three main types of shapeshifters of this variety,” I explained. “First, are those that have been cursed with lycanthropy. Usually by some form of evil magic, and are afflicted with uncontrolled transformations wherein they usually go on rampages across the countryside for some baleful purpose. The second is contracted lycanthropy, which is much the same as the first but in the form of a disease instead of something purely magical. The third and final way is through a controlled magical transformation, usually through some potion or polymorphic spell. The second options strikes me as less likely in this case, as there have been no reported cases of the disease in this area for quite some time.”

Stalwart followed the tracks of the pony-turned-wolf as they led to the edge of the clearing. “Could this be some new outbreak of the plague?”

“Possibly, but that does not strike me as likely,” I said as I followed my bodyguard. “Those infected with the disease tend to attack at random, usually the first pony they come across and on the edges of civilization. Not to mention that our werewolf ran away as soon as it slew its victim, which is unusual for one afflicted by the plague. They usually stop to consume those they attack, or will attack those who happen across them and their kill. Their behavior is usually the most like that of a natural wolf.”

“Then you think the behavior we have seen fits the other two types of lycanthropy?”

“I favor them, aye.” I nodded, scratching my leg. “A pony using magic for a voluntary transformation could have done all we have seen, and if they did the transformation right they would have remained in control of their faculties. Though a botched transformation can result in the wolf taking over, either because the magic was done poorly or the user does not have the willpower to defeat the wolfish part of their brain. Then, depending on the type of curse, an afflicted lycanthrope could have done everything we have seen. It could be the individual was cursed to hunt down Shining or was under some sort of compulsion to do so whilst transformed. Without more information, I can only speculate at this point.”

“Sounds tricky.” Stalwart led me along, following the tracks and the barks of Rumble’s dogs. “Still, we might have an opportunity to resolve this without further bloodshed.”

“That was my hope as well,” I agreed, attempting to use my tracking spell to confirm the direction of our quarry. “If we can find this pony before nightfall, then it should be a simple matter of capturing him.”

“The only issue becomes keeping him captive once we have him,” Stalwart said. “Asssuming ‘tis a him at all, in any event. These tracks strike me as belonging to a stallion, but little else can I say for certain.”

“Good to know. And aye, as you said, keeping him imprisoned will be difficult, but it can be done assuming I am given sufficient time and materials to make it work. I might even be able to cure his affliction if these transformations are a result of disease or curse. It depends on how long he has been afflicted and the exact manner of the affliction, but I know all the standard cures for lycanthropy. But first, we must find this pony.”

Stalwart nodded. “Agreed. ‘Tis likely Freezy and Rumble came to similar conclusions. Thus their impatience.” The both of us came to the top of a hill, and looking out we saw the town of Glazing before us. To my consternation, the tracks we followed led directly to it. “They probably hoped to catch this pony before they reached the town. It will be all the more difficult to find him if he got there first, for he will be able to hide amongst everypony else.”

“That was my fear as well.” I scowled as I pulled out Shining’s lock of hair. “And I think there is another problem.”

Stalwart turned his head my direction. “What is it?”

“I fear that our quarry knows we are on his track.” I held up the lock of Shining’s mane. “The tracking spell I have been using has just been cut by some form of magic. I hoped that we would be able to track him anyways even if he made it to Glazing. But now...”

Stalwart looked up at the midday sun. “But now we have but half a day to find him before he turns into a beast and slays once again.”