4. The Twin Goddesses: Part 2. The Royal Sisters
“Now,” began a tall beige stallion with a long and frankly unkempt beard sprouting from his chin, the sound of his chalk clacking on the blackboard, “Each of the three pony races possesses an inherent measure of magic. This all manifests in different ways.”
A wide-eyed navy blue mare sat in one of the classroom chairs, eagerly hanging onto every word the Librarian said, absolutely enthralled to discover the mysteries of the world. He drew up a few symbols: three circles in a row. Unicorn was a circle with a line drawn from the top, pegasus with two smaller circles on either side, and earth pony a horizontal line intersecting with the bottom of the circle.
Taberanyn’s reading had gotten considerably better in the past couple months, and Delbedasir felt more comfortable lecturing her with written words, but pictorial aids were useful as well. The ancient alicorn actually rather liked Taby, always coming into class with an infectious willingness to learn; a refreshingly far cry from her stubborn sister.
“Unicorn magic is most visible, as it is ‘externally manipulative’,” he wrote the term on the board. Taberanyn was immediately confused and raised a hoof. Delbedasir indulged her, “It means its effects are cast onto objects apart from the user. Pegasi and Earth ponies possess “internally manipulative” magic. Pegasi can of course fly, walk on clouds, and influence weather systems. Earth ponies’ talent is in physical fortitude, and closeness with the Earth. These qualities however cannot be imparted onto other objects or individuals; only the user.
He wrote more material on the board, neatly arranged in columns. “What makes alicorns so special,” he punctuated his speech with closed eyes, “Is that we are essentially an amalgam of all three. Earth pony and pegasus magic come naturally to individuals capable of their utilization, but unicorn casting is something that must be learned through study instead of experience.”
He levitated up a brush and wiped down the board, “Now we will learn about ‘enchantments’. There are three categories of magic influence: channeling, enchanting, and infusing. Channeling is the method with which one controls an object remotely, as if one were actually holding it. This is a simple operation that most unicorns learn at a young age. More advanced techniques can increase the capabilities of objects and their users, and this is often done with weapons and tools.
“Infusing is of little interest to us, as it is an incredibly difficult and arcane process that one must truly labor at. Enchanting is the basic imparting of spells, willed instructions for magic, that are placed on an object.” He stepped over to Taberanyn, and eyed her small piece of chalk.
“Look at the chalk, visualize in your mind’s eye writing your name. Focus on making that chalk do that. Don’t levitate it, instead tell it to.”
Taberanyn closed her eyes and followed the Librarian’s instructions. She got a small strain in her forehead, but felt the magic tingling in her horn. She played a mentally-created scene of the chalk writing her name a dozen times, and after what seemed like forever finally imparted that vision onto the chalk.
It took a moment, but that white rock soon sprung to life and sloppily clacked onto her board and scrawled out poorly-written letters that when you looked at it correctly might have spelled “Taberanyn”. But the blue pony’s face lit up, and she grinned as wide as any foal ever could. She looked down at the slate, then back at the Librarian, then at the slate again.
She turned herself towards Nikóleva, who was standing in the corner lazily sifting through some books. “I did it! Nikól, look! I did it!” Taby shouted, almost jumping from her chair. Her sister moved her eyes from the page and saw the barely-legible scratch on the slate. Nikóleva presented a warm smile before returning to her studying.
Taberanyn’s toothy grin didn’t subside, and she immediately wiped down her board to attempt again. The Librarian quietly placed a hoof over his mouth; he couldn’t have been prouder—she was actually repeating the exercise without further instruction! The white sister would have dug her heels in and insisted she didn’t need practice.
The blue alicorn must have repeated the spell ten times; each instance she was able to focus a little better. What Nikóleva failed to understand is that writing her name perfectly wasn’t the point of the lesson. Delbedasir inspected Taberanyn’s technique and form, “Excellent. Your mind is like any other part of your body, and it must be trained; once you can visualize this in your mind, it will be far easier to imagine other, more complex things.”
The Librarian wrote out a few more things on the board for Taby to mimic via enchanted chalk, and left her to the exercises. He was about to move over to his desk to catch up on some of his backlogged work when he caught the title of Nikóleva’s book.
The Arcane Magicks
This was a very old tome, and of course Nikóleva managed to get her hooves on it and get ideas in her head. The Librarian silently cursed the Prince’s order to allow her full access to the library’s collection.
“Delbedasir,” Nikóleva spoke up, startling the beige stallion and interrupting his retreat, “What is ‘Alicorn Magic’?”
The Librarian’s eyes widened, and he immediately snatched the tome from her magical aura. “There’s nothing in this book about such a thing!”
Nikóleva furrowed her brow, “Not much, no, but just a paragraph. It mentioned an ancient form of magic, but the author knew very little. Is there a book on it elsewhere in the library?”
“’Alicorn Magic’?” now Taberanyn perked up, distracted once again by her indolent sister.
The Librarian groaned loudly, “You don’t need to be snooping around over that.”
“Why? Because it’s related to dark magic? I know the Prince says that’s forbidden, but shouldn’t we know something about it, just in case—“
“There is no such thing as dark or black magic,” Delbedasir intoned, his voice cold and stern, “Magic has no morality; it is a force, not an entity. But what you’ve read about…it’s very dangerous; stay away!”
Nikóleva became indignant, and stomped a hoof. “You told me there’d be no more half-truths, lies or riddles. I was placed here to unlock and hone my abilities, and I do not appreciate knowledge being censored like this.”
Lórian above, this mare… The Librarian sneered and flashed his horn, so much his eyes began to glow. “Very well,” he said with what sounded like a harmony of several other voices. Moments later a bolt of magic shot itself into Nikóleva’s forehead.
She was confused, and regained her composure shortly afterwards. She looked at the stiff-faced Librarian and frowned, “What was that supposed—“ Then like a crack of lightning a burning, agonizing sensation drilled into her head. She collapsed to her knees and cringed, suppressing the urge to wail in pain. Her eyes began to glow a sickly green, and a trail of purple haze drifted from them. But even though she felt like a thousand needles were being pounded into her skull, through her horn she felt the strongest surge of power in her life.
Clasping her hooves to her temples, the white mare began to shriek, ready to unleash the tremendous store of magical power in her body. Taberanyn recoiled in horror, desperately seeking a way to stop her sister’s suffering.
“Nikól…,” she muttered before sharing a glance at the Librarian. He flashed his horn and sent another bolt at Nikóleva, but this one instead dissipated the green and purple glow instantly.
She viciously fought the urge to vomit, heaving a while and drying her eyes. Her legs wobbled, and with great struggle the mare managed to stand once more. She still felt the chills, and eyed the Librarian as viciously as she could in her greatly disoriented state. “What…what did you do?” she demanded, her voice shaking and exasperated.
Delbedasir replied, but not in any sort of mocking or smug way; with solemn, even dour, composure, “I induced your strongest ability.” He levitated up a small pitcher on a nearby table and poured a cup of water. He passed it to Nikóleva, who downed it in less than a second. “That is what it feels like to wield ‘dark’ magic. You do not draw the power from your own stores, but rather from the cosmic energy that permeates creation itself. Such magic is the purest might any mortal can wield.”
He stepped forward and brought a hoof under her chin. Inspecting her eyes, he poured another measure for the mare. “’Alicorn Magic’ is misleading; any living creature has the ability to summon this power, but we alicorns have a greatly-increased resistance to its effects. We can recover from its use far quicker, and withstand the awesome agony it causes far easier than any other race.”
Delbedasir poured yet a third glass, and after Nikóleva downed it she seemed to be a little bit better. He then turned to face Taberanyn, “With this power, one can do things beyond imagination: manipulate life and death, and violate the natural laws. But it takes a grave toll.” His stare went back to the white pony, who looked as humbled as any creature ever was.
“Had you been Tulicë, that small exposure would quite possibly have killed you.” Delbedasir magically enveloped The Arcane Magicks and gave it back to Nikóleva, “But, if you must pursue these studies, you need to strengthen your body and mind. The strain is immense, and one must master their own inherent magic first.”
The Librarian trotted towards his desk, and cleared his throat, “Which is why you both need to practice your exercises!” He sat down and opened up a ledger, “That’ll be all for today. Wonderful progress, by the way, Taberanyn.”
The blue alicorn smile and bowed her head, “Thank you, my Lord.” She rose from her seat and walked over to her sister, “Are you all right?”
Nikóleva took a moment, the last vestiges of disorientation fading away, “I’ll be fine.” In fact, once she had her bearings, she could no longer feel that splitting headache or the blood throbbing in her face. But that experience was something she’d probably be fine never having again.
The two mares gathered up their things and placed them inside their respective saddlebags. Nikóleva was first to reach the door, opening it and allowing her sister through. Next for their day was their sparring lesson with Swordmaster Bretteur.
A short trip through the halls of the castle, and they arrived at one of the open-air galleries. In summer there’d be lovely breezes, and the two alicorns would be able to enjoy an ice-cooled drink and some small sweets in their leisure times. Nikóleva had done a bit of that in the season when she wasn’t drilling troops or leading sorties.
But now, during this time of year, it was cold. It had been a long time since Nikóleva traversed the frigid lands of her birthplace, and frankly she’d gotten soft in this regard. Their teacher said the winter chill was bracing, and kept one alert. He had all the furniture shoved off to side for maximum space in the room, and forbade a fire from being lit in the hearth on one of the walls.
The two shivered, the chilling northern winds blowing in from the balcony. “Ah! Good to see you again! Let us waste no time,” the dull brown earth pony commanded, gesturing to the two wooden swords resting on a rack. A rather cruel gust blew in, freezing the alicorns in place like statues. Puffs of hot breath dispersed in the air, and Nikóleva glared at her instructor.
“Don’t worry; you’ll feel warmer once you start moving. Taby, I hope you’ve been practicing your forms,” he smiled.
The midnight mare returned a grin and nodded, immediately taking her neutral stance, “Of course, Master.”
The lesson commenced from there, and Bretteur was relentless in both criticism and coaching, making sure their stances and forms were perfect. Nikóleva had learned quite well, and adopted a particular style of dueling.
The alabaster alicorn took a liking to a fighting style that blended technique and power, creating a blindingly quick and forceful method. As Bretteur sparred with both, he found the most difficulty with Nikóleva. She was incredibly strong, built up by birth and habit, and she tended to get carried away when doing well.
Taberanyn was a joy to work with however. Very receptive and always interested in improving, she worked hard in her leisure time to master the forms. She could block and redirect any move he made at the respectable pace. Against a diamond dog or freshly-trained soldier she’d be able to hold her own. She lacked the power of her sister, though, but that would come in time.
The blue pony had been working so hard in fact, she flew out of the balcony to cool off in the winter air. Bretteur admired her graceful flight, and wished he too could fly; there were so many more things to learn in dueling when one could maneuver about all three axes.
He thought he might bring this up to the Prince once they’d mastered the more traditional style.
After an hour, Taberanyn performed a wonderful parry and riposte, and landed a “fatal” strike on Bretteur. Excited and proud, she requested that she and her sister duel.
Bretteur shook his head, “She’s further in her lessons than you.”
Taberanyn didn’t care, and insisted. “If you’re sure…,” he resigned, and stepped back to the wall and observed the two cross wooden blades.
They began with their weapons held in a magic embrace, angled slightly upwards. As Taberanyn sidestepped to the right, Nikóleva reciprocated the action, keeping her distance and waiting patiently for the right moment. The blue sister narrowed her gaze and thrust the rounded blade towards Nikóleva, but was instantly stopped by an agile block.
Nikóleva’s blade slid down Taby’s and hit the crossguard. The younger alicorn skillfully spun around, taking the blade with her foreleg and tried to strike Nikól from the side, but naturally the taller one caught it with a close guard. Taberanyn bared her teeth and retracted to execute a high strike. Again the sword met Nikóleva’s, but this time she rapidly glanced off the blow with a hanging guard and gracefully struck with a transverse swing.
Taberanyn felt a sharp smack on her shoulder. “Fatal hit,” Bretteur announced. Taberanyn snorted and raised her blade for the second round. Once more the sisters crossed weapons and readied into their stances.
Yet this time Nikóleva was first to strike, and she opted for the high blow, coming down from above. This left the wielder open to a forward thrust, but the white mare’s moves were so quick Taby couldn’t hope to utilize that narrow window. She did however manage to catch the blade in her crossguard, but the older sister took the wooden prop in her forelegs and pushed down with far more force than probably was acceptable in a sparring duel.
Nikóleva broke Taberanyn’s grasp, and shoved her to the floor. Bretteur’s face became very displeased, and he motioned to act. But the blue pony magically retrieved her blade and again blocked Nikóleva’s strike; just barely. Taberanyn pulled back her hind legs and bucked her sister off, then leapt forward to land a forceful stab.
Agile Nikóleva made a magnificent roll, dodging the attack with a poise uncommon for such a large pony. Her sword swatted Taberanyn in the back, and she fell to the ground defeated for a second time.
“Fatal hit,” the Swordmaster spoke again, but then glared at Nikóleva, “We are sparring. You acted like you actually wanted to injure her!”
The two didn’t hear him though. Too enraptured with energy and determination, the two prepared to begin the third set. Taberanyn wobbled up to her hooves, and Nikóleva rubbed her bruised belly for a moment. Then their faces became deadly serious, and both galloped towards one another with fervor and passion reserved for the battlefield.
But Nikóleva used a truly treacherous tactic; she lowered her blade and instead rammed into her sister. Her massive weight and strength flung Taby across the floor, and Nikóleva readied her blade for the killing blow. Shaking herself from her daze, Taberanyn crept low and stuck out her legs to trip her running sister, gathering her blade to hit the downed alicorn. Nikóleva proved too quick, and rose up as soon as she fell.
Taberanyn prepared a hanging guard, but Nikóleva punched with her forehoof and split the wood in half, knocking it from her sister’s embrace. A magic aura took hold of her sword, and Nikóleva swung down to “finish” Taberanyn.
It was stopped immediately, and Nikóleva was so shocked she was no longer channeling her great strength into the attack. “That is enough,” Bretteur intoned, voice dripping with contempt, “This was a sparring match; you both express poor etiquette. Especially you, Nikóleva.”
Remembering where she was and whom she’d been fighting with, her ears dropped and she hung her head low in shame. She took her sister’s hoof and pulled her back to her feet. Nikóleva inspected her baby sister for any serious injuries; none she could find.
“Are you alright?!” the white mare asked, bursting with remorse and worry, “I’m sorry…” She had almost felt like she’d been in the field, fighting with shouts and blood gushing from cleaved bodies…she had lost control. This was not something that should have ever happened with her sister.
Taberanyn dusted herself off and glared at her sister. A moment later the scowl faded to a warm smile, “Of course! That was great fun! It reminded me of when we wrestled as fillies!”
Nikóleva responded with a slowly-growing smile, “I remember you would ram your hooves into my knees when I pinned you. One time they became so swollen I could not walk right for a week.” The two sisters laughed together, and placed a foreleg around each other.
Bretteur shook his head, and placed the one good sparring sword back on the rack, “Dismissed. Be sure to practice your forms.”
The two sisters left the training studio, and resumed their sojourn through the castle. They engaged in simple chit-chat as they moved down the hall, and laughed occasionally. Nikóleva lightly hit her sister’s shoulder with a hoof, “I never thought you’d be so tough.”
Taberanyn silently fought the aching urge to rub her shoulder; she probably had a lingering bruise, “We’re alicorns, remember; it’s in our blood. You weren’t half bad yourself, Sister. One day I’ll best you!”
Nikóleva rolled her eyes at Taby’s sudden bravado. “Only if ‘you practice your forms’,” the white pony teased, mocking their swordmaster’s voice and intonation.
The blue pony cracked a slight smile, and turned her eyes back to the hallway, trying her best to ignore her aches. Tomorrow no doubt there’d be welts on her; a hot bath should clear that up well enough. Though…sparring against her sister proved to have been a foalish enterprise; Nikóleva had spent thirty years honing her body, and still trained further in the guard. Taberanyn had managed to injure her sister in their duel, but nothing seemed to slow her down.
And when Nikóleva held her down on the floor…little Taby felt so helpless…there was nothing she could do.
Taberanyn banished those thoughts, and remembered what a blessing it was to have her sister back in her life. Besides, there’d be plenty more time to beat her in a competition...she’d just train more intensely and frequently. Nikóleva couldn’t be the best at everything, right?
The pair passed by some members of the Guard, who stood at attention for their Knight Commander. Nikóleva flared her magic and opened the double doors leading out into the snow-frosted courtyard. The sky was clear and sunny, and frankly it was a bit bright. Squinting, Nikóleva felt a frigid gust blow through her pink mane. She stopped and sat down on her haunches for a moment, bringing her forehooves up to her mouth to warm with a hot wisp of breath.
“What’s next?” Taberanyn asked, levitating out a dark cloak from her saddlebag. Donning it made her feel so much warmer.
“Soon I’ll have to go to the mustering yard to drill my soldiers,” Nikóleva replied, standing back up, “I’ll first have to stop at the barracks for my armor.”
Taby placed a hoof under her chin and thought a moment, “Before you do, though, how about a little fun?”
Nikóleva raised an eyebrow, and watched her sister spread out her brilliant blue wings. She leapt up into the air and effortlessly soared to the top of the outer castle wall. “A race! Around the city, down the trail of the waterfall, up the mountain and back here.”
The snow-white alicorn met her sister at the wall and looked at the prospective course. Nikóleva then backed up and stretched out her legs and back, unfurling her giant wingspan in all its blindingly-white glory.
Hearing a few satisfying “pops”, Nikóleva turned her attention to Taberanyn and grinned, “You’re on.”
Before anypony even said “go”, the midnight alicorn catapulted herself off the wall, rapidly shrinking in size before Nikóleva’s eyes.
“Oh no you don’t!” the alabaster mare shouted as she careened into the air. She darted to the outer city wall and spotted the blue speck of her sister, far ahead—winning! Nikóleva poured all her strength into her wings, and sped along the length of the chalked stone fortification. Taberanyn became ever closer, and as the chilly air stung Nikól’s face and burned her throat she kept going, never letting up.
Taby looked back, and doubled her efforts, diving almost instantaneously down the length of the waterfalls. Nikóleva’s eyes bulged; her sister was a lunatic, practically falling down to the valley floor a thousand feet below. Taby flew just a foreleg’s length away from the falls, and used her wings to spray her chasing sister with absolutely frigid water.
A sharp tingling shocked through Nikóleva’s body, and she felt her heart leap in her chest. “That’s…ch-ch-cheating!” she yelped, shivering as the tiny drops of water froze on her fur. But a burning resolve erupted inside, and she fought through the icy mantle as she had so many others. Straining her wings to their limit, Nikóleva trailed Taberanyn closer every second. The next maneuver was exhilarating; a perfect right-angle course correction along the length of the valley river. The blue flier managed it flawlessly, and she taunted back, expecting her sister to careen into the chilling drink.
“Did you think it would be that easy? I’ll bring you a towel—,” her voice went dead when Nikóleva mimicked her sister’s correction, and the river’s water splashed behind the white blur barreling towards Taberanyn. Turning her attention to the race course, the younger alicorn weaved through the small riverside village, wind lancing through her periwinkle mane. Some poor ponies dove into their homes and ducked down to avoid the two as they orchestrated an elegant dance around each home at stupefying speed.
Nikóleva closed within twenty feet, but Taberanyn flapped her blue wings forcefully and shot forward. Their course then turned off over the river and through the naked woods at the base of the mountain before leading up to the sheer cliffs.
Taby was starting to feel the burning in her throat from the winter air, but still pressed on—she had to win! Again she made a drastic turn and soared up the mountainside, dodging the jagged rock outcroppings that littered its face.
But Nikóleva was watching and summoned her inner spark, that inherent pegasus magic that gave her the liberating ability to fly. It charged her wings, and she felt even lighter. Every pegasus and alicorn could do this instinctively, but Nikóleva knew how to give it an…extra push. Her lungs felt like they were being pricked by needles, and her heart wanted to burst from her chest, but she ascended ever further up the mountain.
And before she could process it, the white alicorn was atop the walls of Canterlot, on a straight path to the castle courtyard. She quickly found the spot where they’d begun and slammed down onto the stone walkway. A loud “crack” echoed from the yard and a flurry of powdered snow blew from the impact zone. When it had cleared, Nikóleva heaved and held her head down to abate the feeling of nausea, and looked down to see that she had actually split the pavement!
“I should…be…more careful…” she muttered in between gasps. She looked around the area for a moment and scrunched her face; where was her sister? The realization came a moment later and her face lit up.
Then, a blue pony came from atop the castle wall, sluggish and moving erratically. Hovering just above the stone, she gave out and fell to her knees, her legs almost numb. All her blood had drained from her face, and she felt like she could not breathe. Nikóleva’s jubilation immediately disappeared and she rushed over to support her sister with her long neck.
Taberanyn’s stomach burned, and she finally gave in to her exhaustion. Falling backwards onto the snow, she shut her eyes and sighed when her breathing returned to a semblance of normalcy.
“You…you…win,” she struggled through labored breaths.
Nikóleva gathered a cluster of snow and magically melted it into water, and placed it before her sister’s mouth. The younger alicorn slurped it up quickly and then slowly returned to her hooves. Taberanyn then nodded and drank another floating orb of water.
The alabaster alicorn patted her baby sister on the back, “You almost got the better of me with your tricks; almost.
Taby’s wheezing had stopped, and her light-headedness was just about gone. Still panting, she gave Nikól a sly little grin. Jerking her head to the side, the blue pony led the other to the gate, in the general direction of the barracks.
A voice called out behind them just as they reached the gatehouse. The pair looked back and saw a earth pony courtier galloping forward. He was a minty green, and wore a courtier’s vest, Canterlot’s coat-of-arms sewn into the breast. Atop his head was that silly little felt cap, and he carried saddlebags filled with what were assumed to be dispatches from various ponies throughout the castle.
Nikóleva recognized him; what was his name…Parcel Express? Something odd like that. She stood tall and confident, as Knights ought to. “Dame Wintermail!” he shouted, “Forgive this disturbance, but his Princeship has requested your and your sister’s prompt attendance to his council chamber. I was actually on my way to the mustering—“ he caught sight of the gaping crack in the stone floor. “What happened here?” he asked with a look of slight horror.
“A bit of fun that became too reckless, good pony,” Nikóleva declared, then glanced to her sister, “We’d best not keep his Highness waiting.”
The courtier then ran off again, out the castle gate. Nikóleva and Taberanyn turned back around and headed once more into the place they’d just left. Nikól groan quietly; why couldn’t the Prince have decided he’d want her to attend earlier, when she’d have been easier to find and more able to prepare. Her pink mane was wind-swept and messy, and she was still covered in a few crusts of ice.
Ah! He’d get over it.
Taberanyn meanwhile passed the short walk a little differently, playing their race over in her mind. She’d pushed herself to the limit, and still felt a raw soreness in her wings. Taby had even used a few…underhooved tactics to give her a step up—all in the name of sisterly fun, of course! Yet it didn’t seem to matter.
A gentle nudge from Nikóleva brought her back, and Taby followed the older mare into the opened doors of the Council Chamber. It was a rectangular room, the walls on either side of the pair adorned with arches and bright windows. Two chandeliers hung down from the ceiling, and brass poles jutted from the arch columns. From the poles draped the Prince’s personal banners: an azure chevron on a field of argent, decorated by a six-pointed purple star, and outlined with delicate gold trimming.
In the center of the room sat a long table, elegantly decorated with a highly-detailed map of Equestria, Canterlot itself marked in bold red ink. All along the sides of the table were chairs, housing members of the Prince’s trusted advisory, and at the far end was an elaborately carved chair.
Sitting in it was the Prince, dressed in his embroidered vest and red velvet cloak. His spired crown however was sitting on the table just by his right hoof. “Dame Wintermail,” he spoke in his kind voice, “And Taberanyn, I am so pleased you’ve joined us today. Sit; we have very important matters to discuss.”
The two did as they were told, choosing seats across from one another. Nikóleva sat next to the Librarian; he made the most annoying old-pony groans and grumbles. Taby was fortunate, and sat next to the Captain of the Canterlot Guard, a dull yellow unicorn mare who wore a number of scars on her face. The Captain gave Taby a friendly smile, and courteously shifted her unequipped warhelm away from Taberanyn’s tablespace, in the high-unlikely event that she’d have to use it.
The Captain was technically her sister’s superior, and Taby couldn’t help by grin when the mare glared at Nikóleva for something.
Marshal Helmraed and Chancellor Logostus sat on either side of the Prince, and both patiently awaited their sovereign’s words. The Prince leaned back in his chair, and magically moved a few of the abstract wooden figurines on the table map.
They were put on a place designated “Diamond Dog Country”. “It would appear our gambit has worked frightfully well,” Prince Petrafyrm started, moving some light-blue colored figurines onto Canterlot, “Our scouts have reported that the western dog clans have elected a leader of their own, and are gathering their strength. It’s clear they took my warning as a challenge, and will most probably march on us come spring.”
“That is actually what I wished to discuss with you, my Lord,” Helmraed spoke up, producing a folded letter and sliding in to the Prince. Magically the Sovereign took it up and read it, then set it down and furrowed his brow.
“I’d never thought they’d be this bold,” he finally said.
“Their new leader seems to be confident and daring; agents we have in their camps have told us they intend to march in the next few weeks, and before winter’s end we’ll have to deal with them,” Helmraed announced. The pegasus then outstretched a wing and placed another figurine on a western part of Equestria, “I believe they’ve become emboldened by what happened in Mareposa at the end of autumn.”
“And what would that be?” Nikóleva asked, staring intently at the map.
“The unthinkable: Mareposa has fallen to a horde of Mustangs and Minotaurs,” the Prince intoned gravely, “Thousands were killed in the siege, many thousands more in the weeks afterwards. I had only received this news a few days ago.”
Nikóleva felt her heart plummet into her stomach. “How many attacked?” she inquired in a perturbed whisper.
“Easily tens of thousands. They’ve decided to winter in Mareposa, but I cannot say when they will march again, or to where,” the Prince’s demeanor grew stern and resolute, “I would conjecture that the wealthy cities of eastern Equestria would probably be their best target. There are many prime places to plunder between Mareposa and here; we are blessed with such a long time to prepare.” The Prince turned his gaze to the dark blue pegasus, “Marshal Helmraed! How many soldiers can Canterlot muster?”
“With our last census I would estimate roughly five-thousand citizens may be levied, added to two-thousand Knights.”
“And the Canterlot Guard can field one-thousand of the finest soldiers in Equestria,” the Guard Captain interjected.
“Of course, Captain. But that leaves eight-thousand to the Prince’s banners, and most would be green and poorly armed,” the Marshal continued.
The Prince sat for a moment with his hoof under his chin, “Enough, though, to fight the dogs. We’ll have to prepare; gather supplies for fighting in the cold and snow. We must destroy the Diamond Dogs as an organized threat, before they join with the horde out west. Marshal Helmraed, call the banners.”
“Right away, your highness,” the Marshal nodded.
“But…my Lord, what shall we do about the minotaurs and mustangs?” Taberanyn meekly asked on the far end of the table.
His Princeship smiled, “Chancellor Logostus, I should ask for you to send word across to the rulers of Equestria; it is time we summon the Congress once again. Grave days await our land; we will not survive on our own.”
But the Chancellor frowned, and averted his eyes a bit before replying, “My Lord, my couriers will be dispatched by sunrise tomorrow…yet, I must voice concern…”
The Prince’s face turned stoic and his eyes calculating, “Speak freely, Logostus.”
The Chancellor paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, “Survivors from Mareposa have shared reports of…blood magic being conducted within the ruined Great Temple in the city. Travelers have told that a bright beam of light shines up to the clouds, and screams echo from it.”
“What on this earth could that be?” Nikóleva asked, her face twisted into an uncommon apprehension.
“’The heralds make their call, and from the depths of Tartarus shall slither from the earth’s bowels the scourge of the elder days, the Draconequus.’ Then the prophecy is true,” a brooding Helmraed gravely said.
“I suppose the rest of what the scriptures say, about the Gods themselves coming here to fight holds true as well,” the Guard Captain mocked, smirking and rolling her eyes, “Your highness, how can we be expected to believe the rumors half-mad ponies spout? They’ve obviously seen terrors, but surely there is no ‘portal’ to the underworld being opened.”
The Prince simply stared off in extreme disturbance. An uncomfortably long time of silence passed before he finally raised his left hoof, “That’ll be enough, Captain Gendarmette. Delbedasir, your knowledge of mystical and spiritual matters must surely have some insight.”
The ancient beige alicorn pursed his lips, stroking his beard for inspiration. “If…Discord is in fact returning, then weapons and armies would be of little use. We’d need proof, but what we’ve gleamed from stories and the interrogation of that captured diamond dog seem to indicate a modicum of veracity to all this,” Delbedasir took a breath and groaned, “Something has spoken to their shamans; something has emboldened them…from very old books I’ve come across mention of…these sort of portals.”
“Just mentions?” the Prince asked, chin resting on a hoof.
“Forbidden magic…grave taboos, affronts to life and nature. The practice of drawing flesh and bone from living sacrifices and grafting them to a soul pulled from Tartarus. This is beyond any spellcraft with unicorn magic,” the Librarian stared straight at Nikóleva, and she soon realized what he meant.
“Are you saying…the horde possesses ‘Alicorns’ within its ranks?” Marshal Helmraed asked, thoroughly disturbed.
“Not necessarily, but whatever is doing this would be a formidable obstacle indeed.” Delbedasir flashed his horn, a red aura moving a wooden figurine from Canterlot to Mareposa as he resumed speaking, “We’d need to send a scouting mission to investigate, I believe; verify the presence of such a ‘portal’.”
“Yes, that would be sensible,” the Prince concurred, magically moving more figurines to Canterlot, “And in the meantime, this Congress can be used to organize a unified force against this horde. If these tales are fanciful, the invaders are still far too numerous for even several of the Equestrian realms to deal with.”
“And if these myths turn out to be true, my Lord?” Captain Gendarmette asked, still wearing her incredulity.
The response came from the Librarian, glaring at the pale unicorn, “Then, Lórian forbid, a different approach might be required.”
Nikóleva looked at her sister, and the two exchanged looks of confusion; what was that supposed to mean?
The Prince’s voice snapped the two sisters back to attention, “For now, Marshal, what is the best way to fight these dogs?”
“They would most certainly travel along the west road; our guards posted at the border station can send word of their march.” Marshal Helmraed unfurled a wing and pushed a wooden figure to a point on the map between a number of hills, right on a part of the Princedom’s road network, “If they leave when we’ve been led to believe, they’ll be right here by the time our banners have been combined and marched westwards.”
“We can hold that valley with pikes and archers, but what’s to stop them from turning back and going around the hills?”
“That is why, my Lord, I recommend a detachment of earth ponies and pegasi to go around, and deploy once the dogs either are engaged with the vanguard or attempt to outmaneuver us.” Another couple figurines were retrieved from a small wooden box and arranged to illustrate the Marshal’s suggestions.
The Prince analyzed the plan for a moment, and turned his eyes to Captain Gendarmette, “And the Canterlot Guard will lead the van, with Dame Wintermail in its ranks of course. I want you, Marshal,” he spoke to the blue pegasus, “To be at the head of the flank.” The two officers nodded, and Wintermail nodded second, meeting her Prince’s gaze with grim determination
The Prince backed his chair out and donned the gilded crown, “Come the spring thaw, the diamond dogs will be nothing more than a nuisance once again. Then we can focus on the horde and…these otherworldly premonitions.” The Ruler of Canterlot went over to a nearby table and poured some wine into a few silver chalices, offering one to each member at his council table.
Dame Wintermail took the cup and gave a slight whiff of the drink—a sweet southern variety, imported from the city of Neapony. He knew it was her personal favorite.
The Prince placed the silver tray back on the table and took a sip. “My intentions for the Congress were hopefully to broker a sense of unity and some measure of trade agreements; we’d have to start small. I cannot expect to stitch together a hideous patchwork of dozens of Princedoms, counties, petty kingdoms, marches, and free cities within a few years—not after nine-hundred years of estrangement.”
He gulped down some of the wine, “Yet…perhaps this ascendant horde can be used to our purposes…”
Wintermail stopped, and set down her cup. She took a while to find the courage to speak up, “Your highness…are you talking about…taking advantage of this crisis?”
Prince Petrafyrm shot her knight a look, and gingerly placed his chalice on the table. He approached the mare slowly, intimidating the giant white pony more than anything had in a while. His eyes bored into her, and she winced in dread, “You have much still to learn about statecraft. I would have preferred if there weren’t a massive army marauding across western Equestria at this very moment, but life isn’t always so accommodating. However; a wise ruler I like to think can take such a terrible setback and derive some…benefits from it.”
He let up his on glower at the poor knight, and faced his other councilors, “That is all for today. I should like reports on the dispatches to Equestria’s Lords and on the mustering of our forces in the morning. Hearth’s Warming has just passed, and very soon those dogs will be on the move.”
The Chancellor, Marshal, Guard Captain, and Librarian dismissed themselves, left with sizable work on their hooves. Nikóleva and her sister were the last to follow, but the Prince’s voice stalled them both.
“Taberanyn, your sister has proven a capable soldier; have her take you on her marches and drills.”
The blue alicorn made no attempt to hide her confusion, “My Lord…? I…I am not a soldier.”
The sovereign’s face was unchanged, “No you’re not, but neither are the five thousand levies that will march beside you. You are now a citizen of my realm, and in my service. You are therefore obligated to answer the call for defense.”
Nikóleva stepped in front of the two, and grit her teeth, “Your ‘Highness’, I’m afraid my sister will not fight your wars.” There was a slight hint of venom to her speech, and the Prince internally smiled at her resolve.
“You have fought as a mercenary before, yes Taberanyn?”
The younger alicorn hesitated a moment, recalling the instance when she and Henarion had lent their services to a small lordling with a few gold bits to spare, “Correct.”
The Prince grinned, and patted his hoof on Nikóleva’s shoulder, “I would never ask you two to march to your deaths; we will be victorious, and I shall be there in the thick of it all. I cannot have the Heirs of Solárindil cower here in the castle while the threat looms out there.”
The Prince flashed his magic and poured more wine for himself and the two alicorns, “You have your vows, Dame Wintermail, and your sister…well don’t we all wish to be part of something greater? Taberanyn, many years later, when your foals learn of the great battles of history, wouldn’t it be wonderful to say that you fought the day the diamond dogs were thrown down, never again to murder and rob innocents?”
The midnight pony simply stared, not even bothering to drink her cup. She glanced at her sister, and thought a moment.
“Or will you tell them you were too afraid to take the field?” the Prince asked, a sly grin creeping on his lips.
“I will not abide you bullying my sister!” Nikóleva asserted, attempting to tower her immense frame over the mere Tulicë. The Sovereign of Canterlot however held his grace, and nonchalantly took another sip. Seeing how her tactic didn’t quite work, she turned to Taby, “Father would not have wanted us to seek battle…”
Taberanyn stood quietly, then produced a look of determination, “You’re right…but Father knew better. He started to teach you to fight because only a fool would think alicorns could stay away from danger for long.” She smirked up at her sister, “You are bound in service by your vows, and I am bound to you by blood; you said it yourself: we belong together.”
Nikóleva didn’t like it, but soon realized that her sister was right. Taberanyn unfurled a large blue wing and draped it on her Nikól’s back, “So long as we’re beside one another, nothing can hurt us!”
Nikóleva wiped a tear from her eye; it touched her more than maybe anypony could understand that after all these years and all she’d done, Taberanyn loved her sister as much as before the day Nikóleva left in shame. The tall white pony craned her neck around Taby’s while the blue mare nuzzled up into Nikól’s snowy fur.
The Knight soon broke the embrace, and narrowed her gaze, “In that case, you’ve quite a lot to learn.”
The Prince beamed, and magically co-opted the two’s cups for a toast with his own, “Outstanding!” The three took another drink and licked their lips in satisfaction, “Now, I believe an appointment with the armorer is in order…”