//------------------------------// // Act II: Pawns and Symbols, part 3 // Story: The World is Filled with Monsters // by Cold in Gardez //------------------------------// Vermilion had never needed an alarm clock to wake up in the morning. Earth ponies, his father liked to say, employed a subtler version of magic than unicorns or even pegasi. They were stronger and sturdier than the other tribes, sometimes to such an extent that Vermilion would accidentally break something designed for pegasus use simply by touching it wrong (unicorn furniture tended to be a bit more robust and resistant to earth ponies). Accepted dogma among scholars of magic was that this strength was not itself magical in nature; it was simply a product of breeding and habituation over generations to the hard work and toil that was the proper place of the earth pony tribe. To assign it some mystic source was to insult true magic. The accepted scholarly position was routinely challenged by common feats like Vermilion’s cousin Birchbark, who worked on a neighboring farm and was run over by a wagon as a young stallion, breaking most of the bones in his lower body. Birchbark not only survived the accident, which would’ve killed any non-earth pony, he was back at work a week later, albeit with his hind legs still in braces. Vermilion didn’t know much about magic, though to his chagrin he was having to learn a lot lately. But he was pretty sure Birchbark owed his survival to some supernatural function. Vermilion’s injuries from Hollow Shades weren’t as severe as anything Birchbark suffered, but they weren’t far off the mark, and even with his middling constitution (by earth pony standards) he’d recovered with speed that shocked his friends. Zephyr and Rose were still feeling their injuries, while Vermilion barely remembered his. Only the dappled scarring on his face and chest remained to suggest he’d ever been injured at all. Some earth ponies claimed that their tribe’s magic resided in plants and growing things. It was this, they claimed, that made earth ponies such effective farmers. Vermilion had no way of judging this himself, as in his entire life he’d never seen a pegasus or unicorn attempt to grow anything. Until somepony convinced a unicorn to take up farming, it would remain an untested theory. Vermilion’s father took the simplest view of all: an earth pony’s magic was his willingness to tolerate hard work, toil and deprivation. To suffer, and continue to work without complaint. To labor long into the night, and rouse early the next morning to do the same, day after day until death claimed them. That was their tribe’s magic. Vermilion hadn’t made up his mind about the whole earth pony magic question. But he never had trouble waking well before the dawn, and he didn’t need an alarm clock to be the first pony up at the Osage apartment. He hopped out of bed while the sun was still a pink premonition in the sky beyond his east-facing window and trotted downstairs to start breakfast for the rest of the team. He mixed some egg and milk in a bowl, sliced up a half-a-loaf of bread, and set the pieces to soak in the mix while the stove warmed up. Soon the rich scent of Prench Toast filled the kitchen and began to drift up toward the second floor. It had the desired effect. First Zephyr, then Cloud Fire stumbled down the stairs bleary-eyed, following their muzzles to the kitchen. Vermilion already had plates laid out for them. “Remind me again why we can’t do this in the evening?” Cloud Fire said between bites that consisted of shoving an entire piece of toast into his mouth at once. “Because our princess wants to do it in the morning,” Vermilion said. “Seriously, she’s been up all night waiting for this, Cloudy. I don’t get the feeling she’s very patient.” “Yeah, ditto,” Zephyr said. “And does she even sleep? Like, she keeps visiting ponies in their dreams, but ponies dream at night, when she’s supposed to be awake, right? So how does that work?” Vermilion shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe Rose or Quicklime know? Magic’s their thing.” He finished his own piece of toast, took all their plates and put them to soak in the sink, and wrapped up the final two slices in paper for Quicklime and Rose. Presumably the team’s two unicorns could feed themselves without his help, but this early in the morning he wasn’t going to bet on it. “Do we need to bring anything for this?” Cloudy said. “Like, weapons or armor?” “I don’t know, do you plan on fighting anypony?” Vermilion filled up a small bowl of water and set it on the floor by the backdoor for the cats. Whiskers poked her head out from behind the divan and padded over to rub against Vermilion’s forelegs. “No, but… look, it’s for Luna, right?” Cloudy said. He frowned at the cat as he spoke. “I mean, she gives out weapons as gifts.” “I’m not bringing anything,” Zephyr said. “If she wanted us to, she’d have said so. She just wants to show us off, maybe have Cherry give a speech or something.” That got his attention. A cold fist suddenly gripped his bowels. “What? She never said that.” “Yeah, but Canopy gave speeches all the time. It was, like, half her job.” He snorted. “That was for the company. We’ll be in court, with all the ponies who attend those things.” As he said the words, it occured to Vermilion that he had no idea who actually attended the Day and Night courts, much less the transition between them. Was there an audience for these things, or was it just the princesses and their retainers? He’d always heard that nobles attended the court, but why? Did they just stand around the whole time trying to look important? Starry Night would’ve known these things. He mentally kicked himself for not asking her yesterday before leaving the palace. Whatever. It was too late to worry about now, and they’d find out soon enough. He shouldered his best set of saddlebags, stuck the wrapped toast in them, and pushed open the front door. Zephyr and Cloud Fire had to rush to catch up with him. * * * Quicklime and Rose Quartz were waiting in the broad square outside the palace district, where the city’s main thoroughfare separated the upscale merchant quarter on the west and the ancient manors of the nobility and landed gentry on the east. To the north, the palace district and government buildings were just waking for the morning, and a scrum of bureaucrats, travellers, soldiers, guards, businessponies and a dozen other classes of pony all milled about, waiting for their appointed hour. Bored-looking guards manned the open gates, keeping idle eyes on the constant stream of ponies moving in and out of the district. Rose’s shell pink coat was easy to pick out, even in the predawn gloom. Vermilion trotted over to her, pegasi in tow, and fished the toast packages out of his saddlebags for the unicorns. They unfolded them gently with their magic and took dainty bites in between bits of small talk. When they finished, Vermilion took the paper back, folded it neatly, and returned it to his saddlebags. “Okay, we have an hour,” Cloudy said. “What’s the plan?” Plan? “We find the Day Court, find Luna, and wait there,” Vermilion said. Zephyr groaned. “That’s not going to take an hour. We’ve could’ve slept later!” “We got up early all the time in the company just to wait.” Vermilion led the way as they spoke, joining the stream of ponies flowing into the palace district. The cobbles beneath their hooves became granite flagstones, and glowing magelights replaced the flickering lanterns outside. Elegant government buildings imitating the styles of Derecho and Heartspire rose on either side of the avenue, competing for space with public gardens fashioned in homage of the originals in Lith. Ahead, the palace dominated the skyline, its towers and arched bridges dark silhouettes against the lightening sky. “We’re not in the company anymore,” Cloudy said. “We don’t have to do stupid shit anymore just because the sergeant said to.” “Showing up early for the princess isn’t ‘stupid shit’,” Vermilion said. The vulgarity drew a few stares from the ponies around them, and he lowered his voice to continue. “It’s common sense. C’mon, Cloudy, we aren’t going to have to do this very often. Most ponies never even see the princesses, much less get invited to court with them.” “I think it’s neat!” Quicklime said. “I’ve never been to court before, much less the transfer.” “It’s not that exciting,” Rose said. She pushed up from the back of the group, shoulder-to-shoulder with Vermilion, and he saw that she’d done her mane up in a new style. Only her bangs were untouched, still left to fall forward over her right eye. “I went a few times with my mother. And the transfer’s nothing special either, just a few words from the majordomo, and the princesses exchange the throne.” Huh. “Who usually attends?” Vermilion asked. She shrugged. “I’m not really sure. It was mostly unicorns, and they all seemed to have business there. Or they were like my mother and I, just visiting to see the princess. And Luna and Celestia, of course.” The buildings lining the avenue vanished as they approached the palace proper, replaced by elegant gardens and fields of neatly trimmed grass. A small army of earth pony groundskeepers tended to the landscape, beautifying it for the coming day. The palace itself was more a complex of smaller palaces that had grown together over the centuries of the Sisters’ rule, all dominated by the massive towers of the primary castle that the citizens of Everfree imagined in their minds when thinking of the palace. Its doors were open, as always, and their group trotted through them into marble-lined walkways and high corridors that made it so easy to get lost in. Fortunately, the Day Court was easy to find. Located in the portion of the palace open to the public, it was only a few halls away from the entrance. They walked past tall stained glass windows and marble statues of ponies holding what Vermilion had come to consider generic hero poses, which resembled nothing he’d ever seen on the battlefield. Shallow gutters cut in the marble flowed with water, forming artificial streams in the hallway, which they occasionally crossed on arched indoor bridges. Plants seemed to have free reign in the hall, though how they grew so luxuriously without any direct sunlight was not immediately clear to Vermilion. The Day Court was not the largest single room in the palace – that honor still went to Luna’s lair, if it was even a room in the conventional sense of the word or rather some sort of magical construct – but it came close. It was certainly the most crowded room he’d seen in the palace, stuffed full of bureaucrats and soldiers and even a few well-dressed unicorns he assumed must be nobles, holding small courts of their own at various stations around the massive hall. Couriers formed a constant flow, running in and out of the court with satchels and documents, sometimes simply passing their burdens from one end of the hall to the other before departing. At the head of the room, beneath the highest point of the mural-adorned vaulted ceiling, stairs rose up an elevated pedestal, upon which sat a pair of giant thrones. The larger of the two, wrought from white marble with gold, sparkled in the lantern light. Beside it, an obsidian throne with silver inlay stood not quite as high. It drank the light, reflecting nothing back. Both thrones were empty. Vermilion frowned. “Where’s Luna?” Rose peered over his shoulder in the direction of the thrones. “Probably meeting with ponies. That’s what the princesses do with most of their time. They don’t just sit on the thrones all day.” “All night!” Quicklime chipped in. “Because she’s the night princess.” “She’ll be back for the transfer,” Rose continued. “Probably a bit before that.” Salvation came in the form of a familiar face: Vermilion spotted a charcoal unicorn mare speaking with a courier near the foot of the thrones, and he pushed through the crowd toward her. Starry Night looked up from the documents she was perusing and smiled at them. “Vermilion, good morning,” she said. “The princess is in the executive offices, back that way. She said to go back as soon as you arrived.” She pointed down a smaller corridor, partially hidden by curtains, that led deeper into the palace behind the thrones. Okay. Executive offices. Vermilion wasn’t sure what those were, but the corridor looked pretty straight. He nodded in thanks to Starry Night and led the group past the curtains. A pair of pegasus guards eyed them up and down, but apparently their party was expected because they passed without challenge. The corridor led to an entire suite of offices, including one filled with dozens of young unicorn pages crouched over writing desks, their horns aglow as they copied documents, summed figures or other paperwork tasks beyond his ability to comprehend. They passed a lavish water closet, more guards, and finally came to a wide door that opened into a luxurious study. Tall shelves lined the walls, filled with more books than Vermilion had ever seen outside of a library. A huge stained glass window filled the back of the study, still dark but beginning to come alive with the hints of dawn outside. Beneath the window was an ornate desk, and behind it Luna, looking more like a regular pony than Vermilion had ever seen. Tall, of course, and with wings and a horn, but absent the chill air or sense of suffocating darkness that she always seemed to carry with her like a cloak. She looked up as they entered, smiled, and set aside the sheaf of documents that floated in her magic. “My Vermilion,” she said and stood to walk around the desk. She was barely a head taller than him now. “Noble Cloud Fire, and friends. Thank you for heeding my summons this morning. I know it is early.” “Never too early,” Cloud Fire said. Vermilion couldn’t tell if the small smile on his face was genuine or sarcastic. Certainly, the pegasus had no love for early mornings. “Still, I am pleased,” Luna said. “My sister will be along soon for the dawn transfer, and she intends to honor one of her servants for heroism. A captain who served with Canopy in your late company.” Rose lifted her head. “Electrum?” “Yes. She means to praise him for the company’s retreat from Hollow Shades. You five will be there as a silent rebuke to him. Especially you, Vermilion.” Luna stepped forward and reached out with her wing to caress his shoulder. For a moment he felt the familiar chill of her presence, and then it was gone. “You, who did not retreat from Hollow Shades, but stayed behind to fight Blightweaver. I had half a mind to summon Canopy’s family here and present them with a medal in her name as well, but the major was not a believer in decorations for her own sake. Such a gesture would not have pleased her.” “Uh.” Vermilion scrambled for something to say. He’d disagreed loudly with Electrum’s retreat from Hollow Shades, but on the other hoof that retreat had saved many lives, his included. Rose and Zephyr doubtlessly would have died too without Electrum’s leadership. “When you say rebuke…” “It is nothing personal, Vermilion,” Luna said. “But we must send a message to my sister that there is another path aside from retreat in the face of evil. Having you there to witness this silly honoring of hers will be a delightful, subtle knife in her ribs.” As she spoke Luna’s gaze drifted off into the distance, and she finished with a bloodthirsty smile that exposed her teeth. They were normal but for two sharp fangs that had no business being in a pony’s mouth. Before he could object to the princess’s reasoning, or ponder the mystery of her ever-shifting physiology, she swept them all up in her wings and bustled them to the door. “Quickly then! Let us not waste time, lest my sister steal a march on us. We have a statement to make!” * * * Luna’s return to the Day Court caused a minor stir. Ponies scrambled out of her way as she stormed in with Vermilion and party in tow. Ripples spread through the crowd like a stone tossed into a pond. The constant low din of conversation faded as Luna stalked up the stairs to her throne and slowly resumed when no royal proclamations or announcements followed. Starry Night quickly trotted up to her side, and they stuck their heads together for a quiet conversation. “For the record, I don’t like this,” Rose said. She spoke quietly, under her breath, her gaze out at the crowd rather than on any of them. “Electrum didn’t do anything wrong when he led the retreat, he was just following Canopy’s orders.” “Yeah, it… okay, look,” Vermilion licked his lips. “We don’t have to do anything. Just stand here and make Luna happy. Besides, she’s right about the retreat. It was the wrong thing to do.” “It was the major’s decision,” Cloudy said. “Remember?” “Yeah, and the major also decided to stay,” Vermilion snapped. The memory of that night was still raw in his mind; he saw, briefly, the image of Cloud Fire following Electrum and the rest of the company down the road away from Hollow Shades. “Relax, all of you,” Zephyr said. “None of you are wrong. There’s no point in arguing about what’s done.” “I’m just saying, I don’t like this,” Rose said again. “We should be happy for Electrum, not… whatever it is Luna is doing.” “She seems pretty open to criticism, Rose,” Vermilion said. “Maybe you should just go up and…” He trailed off as the crowd broke ranks and a familiar shape pushed through to the front. An earth pony, Buckeye looked out of place in court. The stallion was still built like Vermilion remembered, but there was a new look in his eyes. Always alert, always dangerous, Buckeye now surveyed the world with a certain awareness in his gaze Vermilion hadn’t seen before, as though he understood it better than the ponies around him. The pegasi and unicorns by him kept their distance, sensing that just brushing against his thick muscles might bruise them. Rose was saying something behind him, but Vermilion was already halfway to Buckeye. Their eyes met, and the huge stallion drew himself up straighter. A small scar emerged from his maneline down to his forehead, the only remnant of the wound suffered in Hollow Shades. “Private,” he said with a small nod. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” “Just Vermilion now, sergeant. I have a new employer.” “So I’ve heard.” Buckeye glanced past him, up at the throne. “Heard you’ve been busy, too. And it’s Lieutenant Buckeye, if you don’t mind.” Vermilion blinked. “They made you an officer?” “Don’t sound so surprised, Cherry. The company’s made a lot of changes since the captain took over. Lot of new leadership opportunities. Might’ve even been a commission waiting for you, if you’d stuck around.” “Earth pony officers.” Vermilion couldn’t help but smile. “Who’d have thought? Congratulations.” The corner of Buckeye’s mouth quirked up. “Thanks. You too, by the way. You still trying to save the whole world?” “As much of it as we can. It’s not lost yet.” “Yet.” Buckeye shook his head. “Kid, if you could see the reports I get… You keep this up, you’re gonna get yourself killed, and your friends too. You think Luna cares how you end up? She has a thing for dead heroes, you know. You ever hear how she talks about the major?” That provoked a pause. Vermilion thought back to Luna’s many mentions of Canopy, and the central fact that the major was dead. But then he thought of the map table in Luna’s lair and the dark border slowly growing around Equestria. “She knows what’s out there. She’s not afraid to fight it.” “She ain’t fighting anything. You notice that? It’s just you.” Vermilion bristled. “Me and my friends.” “Great. Good for you. Fools travel in packs.” Buckeye looked over at the other four, still at the foot of the throne dais. “Thought Zephyr had more sense than that, at least.” “Maybe she values saving ponies more than her personal safety.” Buckeye squinted at him. “Kid, you wanna remember who you’re talking to? What do you think the company’s been doing since you quit? Holding parades? No, we’re out there fighting just like you are. The only difference is we’re fighting to save Equestrian towns and families. And we’re not gonna get ourselves killed doing it.” “I still feel pretty lively, serg—lieutenant,” Vermilion said. “Luna has aided us. Have faith in your princess.” “Oh, I do.” Buckeye squinted up at the throne, then shook his head. His ears twitched, rotating back to hear something behind him, and he turned his head toward the Day Court’s main entrance. “Just a different princess.” The crowd’s murmur reached a crescendo, drowning out any reply Vermilion might have offered. He frowned at Buckeye’s back and peered over the crowd in time to see Celestia arrive. Her entrance was like the sun rising. A soft light filled the court, seemingly from nowhere, chasing away the evening’s chill and shadows. The lingering fatigue of sleep faded in an instant, and he felt his coat grow warm, as though he were standing close to a fire. Celestia was easily the tallest pony he’d ever seen, towering over the retainers and guards around her. Only Luna in her dreamrealm came anywhere close to Celestia’s size. Her alabaster coat shone with its own light, sparkling and perfect as the morning. She wore a gold torc, crown, and a subtle smile that seemed to hold a secret message for every pony that saw it: Yes, I know you. I love you. I love you all, my little ponies. The crowd was cheering. Everypony was cheering. He was cheering, and the sudden realization stopped him cold. He glanced behind him at the throne where Luna sat. Luna was not cheering. She stared at her sister in silence. He’d seen statues with more life in their expressions than her. Vermilion turned back to Celestia. She made her way through the center of the court, down an aisle that opened in the crowd before her. At her side, noticed for the first time, was a cashmere blue unicorn stallion wearing a simple set of armor and a captain’s rank insignia. Electrum kept up a quick pace to match her long strides, and broke away as she reached the dais leading up to the thrones. “Welcome, sister,” Luna’s voice was a study in careful neutrality. “It pleases us to greet the dawn.” “Good morning, Luna.” Celestia’s voice was like a bell, and filled Vermilion with warmth just to hear. She strode up the dais and took her seat in the marble and gold throne beside her sister. “I hope your night has been peaceful.” “Quite.” Luna’s eyes shifted, the only part of her body to move, and she pinned Electrum with her gaze. His stiff cedar mane danced in an unfelt breeze. “Won’t you introduce us to your friend?” “Nothing would please me more.” Celestia stood and stepped forward, intentionally or inadvertently eclipsing her sister still on the throne. She drew in a deep breath, and when she spoke her voice filled the hall, instantly overpowering every other sound and whisper. “Mares and gentlestallions, if I might have a moment of your time. Before the courts change today, I want to recognize the courage and sacrifice of one of our heroes.” Celestia motioned with her hoof at Electurm, and for a moment all Vermilion could focus on was the grace and refined elegance invested in the curve of her limb, the aching beauty that radiated from her like the sun’s glow itself. He could see himself kneeling before her, begging for the chance to abase himself and kiss that perfect hoof. A bracing chill washed over him, breaking the spell. He shook himself and looked past Celestia at Luna. She was watching him silently, and for a moment a tiny smile twisted her lips before she turned her attention back to Celestia. He blinked a few times, clearing away the last of the fog that muddled his thoughts, and focused on Celestia again in time to hear her resume speaking. “...a unit that we dispatched to the distant town of Hollow Shades, to aid the residents thereof against an unknown threat,” Celestia said. Her voice, though still powerful and melodious, no longer entranced him so. “When his company arrived, they discovered a menace far powerful and threatening than any we could have expected, and though they triumphed over the evil they found, it was at a terrible price. Today, we honor our servant Captain Electrum for assuming command of his company after their leader fell in battle and, despite his own wounds, successfully bringing home every surviving member of the unit. Captain Electrum, please step forward.” On cue, Electrum stepped up the dais, coming to a stop three steps beneath the summit. From this new angle, Vermilion could see the patchwork coat beneath his left shoulder pauldron and the angry red scars crisscrossing his hide. The wounds were still healing. “It pleases me, on behalf of my sister and the grateful citizens of Equestria, to present you, Captain Electrum, with the Solar Order, First Class.” Celestia’s horn lit, and a small medal lifted from a plump cushion positioned beside her throne. It was a gold sunburst hanging from a short yellow ribbon, bright as a canary’s feathers. She floated it down to Electrum’s chest and clipped it to the hair of his coat, just above his heart. Against his pale coat it seemed to shine like the sun in a cloudy sky. A wave of applause filled the court. Vermilion stomped along, though with care; he kept his eyes on Luna. As he expected, she stepped forward from her throne, coming to a stop by Celestia’s side. The applause slowly diminished, and she smiled down at Electrum. “Allow me to extend my congratulations as well,” Luna said. “I have heard of your heroism, Captain, and it pleases me. Celestia does well to honor you.” Electrum dipped his head at her words. “The honor belongs to others, your majesty. Others who did not return.” “Indeed. It is fitting to remember them.” Luna tilted her head back, and a wider, thirstier smile took shape on her face. “We are fortunate, sister, to have some of those other heroes with us. Heroes who stayed and fought in Hollow Shades against impossible odds. Heroes for whom there was no retreat. Vermilion, would you please step forward?” Luna stared down at him, and every eye in the court followed her gaze. Celestia’s expression was writ with kind curiosity. Electrum raised an eyebrow but otherwise revealed nothing. Fighting monsters was easier than this. Vermilion took a deep breath and stepped out of the front of the crowd, coming to a stop at the foot of the dais, where he bent his knee into a bow for both monarchs. “This unassuming young stallion defeated one of the greatest evils to haunt the world in generations,” Luna said. “He did not let his fear conquer him, and he faced down certain death in defense of others. Does that please you, sister?” “It does.” Vermilion peeked up to see Celestia smile down at him. “And I was most pleased when I heard he would be here this morning. I am grateful for the chance to honor him as well.” Luna blinked at that. Her triumphant grin slackened, melting into a mere shadow on her muzzle. Uncertainty filled her eyes and her voice. “It… you knew? How—” “Most pleased indeed!” Celestia stepped past her sister, striding down the steps of the dais until she stood before Vermilion. The heat of her presence warmed him like a fire. “The bravery you showed in Hollow Shades is an inspiration to us all, Vermilion, which is why it is my honor to present you too with the Solar Order, First Class.” Celestia’s horn lit anew, and another medal floated from the cushion beside her throne above them, identical to its mate adorning Electrum’s breast. Celestia held it before her face for a moment, as if to admire the subtle tracery of its fine gold craftsmanship or the brilliant mossy gleam of the polished agate in its center, then carefully clipped it to Vermilion’s coat. The sudden tug of its weight on the hair of his chest stung for a moment. “Please accept this, on behalf of my sister and I,” Celestia said. She turned her head to look up the stairs at Luna. “It is well earned, is it not?” Luna was silent. She stared at Celestia with an intensity Vermilion had never seen from her before. Her wings quivered at her side, and her nebulous mane grew darker, the countless stars floating within it extinguishing one by one. Her lips peeled back, and she opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words emerged. For a long moment the sisters stared at each other, Celestia serene and perfect, Luna trembling. Finally, Luna’s gaze broke, and she turned to Vermilion. Her attention struck him like a avalanche. He flinched back, nearly stumbling. All the warmth that came from standing at Celestia’s side vanished like a candle’s flame in a hurricane, replaced with the unearthly chill that sprung as ever from the well of Luna’s soul. Ponies retreated around him, shrieking and shying away from the frost that suddenly appeared on the marble beneath his hooves. Luna’s wings shot out, filled with darkness. It raced toward him, embraced him, stealing away his vision, and the court vanished, replaced with the abrupt sensation of falling from an unimaginable height. He opened his mouth to scream, but there was nopony left to hear. * * * The darkness lasted only a few seconds, after which it was replaced by somewhat less darkness. Vermilion appeared in mid-air several feet above the floor in Luna’s lair. He had a moment to look around from this new vantage point and be amazed anew at the impossible scale of the room – his sight extended endlessly in all directions, until a dark fog swallowed the haphazard piles of treasure she had collected during her reign, the flotsam and jetsam of history extending back centuries before his birth. Seen this way, the countless heaps resembled a cemetery in some foggy midnight dream. Gravity returned a second later, and he plummeted to the stone floor. A brace of rolled carpets cushioned his fall, and he tumbled off them into a pile of astronomical equipment. A particularly sharp brass sextant made its presence known in the middle of his back, and he stood with a groan. Telescopes and armillary spheres clattered around his hooves. Wonderful. “Luna?” he called out. “Luna, are you—” A thunderous crash answered him, and Luna appeared a dozen yards away in a tempest of shadows. She whirled in a maelstrom of wings and mane and darkness, towering above him, larger than he had ever seen. The tip of her horn nearly brushed the stone roof. “HOW DARE SHE?!” Luna screamed. The piles of history around her clattered and tumbled at the sound of her voice. She spun around, lashing out at everything around her. The shadows cloaked her, turning her from a pony into a dark amorphous shape lit only by the twin lanterns of her eyes, burning like stars. She resembled nothing so much as a monstrous raven or owl, a nighttime hunter loosed in fury and raging against the world. “YOU ARE MY SERVANT! MINE, NOT HERS!” An enormous sandstone obelisk found itself in Luna’s path, and she struck it a glancing blow with her hoof. The stone crumbled like salt, blasted into pieces that went skipping away into the darkness. The floor beneath Vermilion’s hooves trembled in sympathy. “MY SERVANT!” Luna’s eyes, those twin white orbs, suddenly found him. An unseen force, unyielding as iron bands, seized him about the chest and yanked him toward her, until he hovered a dozen feet above the ground. He could make out nothing of her face, only those white eyes, round and perfect as the moon, each the size of a dinner plate. Snow drifted in the air around him and collected on his shoulders. “Luna,” he managed to choke out. Fear strangled him more than her grip. “I’m sorry, I—” “BE SILENT!” Luna’s gaze shifted, focusing on the medallion hanging from his chest. It reflected the light of her eyes and shone a brilliant gold, like a miniature sun. It was the only color in the lair. Her eyes narrowed, and Vermilion felt her invisible grip close around the medal. There was a flash, a brilliant pain that erupted from his chest, and then he was falling again, cast away. He slammed into a collection of bookcases filled with moldering, ancient texts that collapsed around him, burying him in centuries-old pages and long-dead languages. He pushed his way out of the debris and tumbled down a small hillock of rotting paper to the floor. Something hot and wet ran down his chest and left foreleg. He ignored the pain to scramble closer to her. The medal of the Solar Order, First Class floated before Luna. She stared at it with murderous intensity. The ribbon blackened, smoldered and caught fire, vanishing into cinders that blew away from her in a spray of orange stars that quickly died. The sunburst medallion softened, its long, slender rays sagging under their own weight until it began to drip in a stream of melted gold onto the floor. The smooth moss agate in the center of the medal smoked and split with a sharp crack. Luna dropped the half-molten ruin and smashed it with her hoof. The room quaked from the blow. Gold sprayed out from the impact like a puddle, starting small fires all around her that faltered and perished, prey to the terrible cold leaking from her body. She raised her hoof and slammed it down again, shattering the heavy stone floor with a sound like a rockslide. Again, and again, until nothing remained of the medal but flecks of gold hidden among a scree of broken cobbles. Vermilion stared at her, shocked into silence, his stunned, ringing ears pressed low against his mane in defeat. The shadows slowly settled around Luna, and her form returned to that of a winged unicorn. She shuddered, panting heavily, shrinking with each breath until she no longer loomed above him like a giant. He was panting too. Rivulets of sweat froze in solid lines in his coat, and as his muscles flexed they fell away to clatter on the stone floor like tiny icicles. His heart knocked on his ribs, shaking his entire body. Steam rose from his coat where his sweat had yet to freeze. He swallowed. “Luna…” She let out a long breath, then picked her way out of the ruined stone toward him. “I apologize, my Vermilion. My temper… sometimes Celestia provokes a wrath in me, and— oh, you are injured! Ah, what have I done?” She swept forward, crossing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. She wrapped her forelegs around him like he was a foal and pulled him close. Her arctic touch numbed his sore limbs. He looked down, following her gaze. A patch of coat was simply missing from his chest where the medal had been pinned, and the skin beneath it rent in a gash that wept a constant stream of blood. “Poor Vermilion, you have done nothing to deserve this. How poor a master am I?” So saying, she lowered her muzzle to his chest and gently licked at the wound with her tongue. A brilliant cold shock followed, freezing the breath in Vermilion’s lungs. She lapped at it again, drinking his blood, until it ceased to flow. He could feel nothing from it anymore, only a terrible numbness that seemed to reach to his heart. Red, frozen crystals dusted his coat. Finally, she set him down and stepped back. He stared down at the wound in disbelief, then took a deep breath and willed himself to stop shaking. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “You did nothing wrong. I… well. Now you know why my sister sometimes angers me.” Did Celestia know this would happen? She’d seemed serious about honoring him, but she’d done nothing to stop this, either. He filed the thought away for further consideration. “You know where our loyalties lie,” he said. “We serve you, not her.” Luna surveyed the ruin around her, then looked back at him. “You are a better servant than I deserve, Vermilion. Pray, wait a moment.” Her wings flashed, and she vanished in a blast of wind that kicked up the traces of snow around them. Only a few seconds passed before she returned. A small, worn book hovered in the air before her. “If nothing else, my sister reminds me that you deserve some reward for your service. I have been negligent in not offering you one myself.” The book floated toward Vermilion, and he reached out to take it. It was thin, less than a hundred pages, and new by the standards of Luna’s lair. The sage-green cover was unadorned and untitled, worn around the edges from years of hooves. Curious, he opened to the first page, which contained only two words: Meditations Canopy He blinked. “This is…” “Her journal,” Luna said. “She told me of it sometimes when we spoke. Electrum knew of it as well, and retrieved it from her belongings before the retreat from Hollow Shades. He must have realized she would not survive.” Vermilion thought back to that night. Canopy’s last order to Electrum had been to get the rest of the company moving, and that she would catch up with them. Had he known that was a lie? Luna continued as Vermilion mused. “She did not write in it often. It is more a collection of wisdom than of daily thoughts, and they are not particularly well organized. She wrote it for herself in scraps and tidbits, rather than for her readers. In fact, I suspect she never expected anypony else would ever read it.” A sense of unease washed over him, tasting like the guilt of intruding on another pony’s privacy. “I… Would she want us to have this?” “Canopy is dead, Vermilion. I understand your concern, but she has no more privacy to violate. She would understand that as well. In fact, I think she might be amused if she knew you had that book. Doubtless she would say it is of little use, but that mare always was too self-deprecating for her own good.” He turned the page. The next was filled with an untidy scrawl, barely legible and completely unreadable in the dim light of Luna’s lair. Dense, tight lines flowed over each other, and the margins were filled with more notes as well. Parts were numbered, circled, with arrows leading to other sections. It was, in short, a mess. “You want me to read it?” he asked. “More than that. Daucus taught you to write, did he not? A rare skill among earth ponies.” Vermilion nodded. “Father believed all ponies should be literate, not just unicorns. None of the other farmers around us agreed.” “Tis their loss,” Luna said. “But an opportunity for you. I want you to organize her scraps. Turn this journal into a real volume, that others may read and learn from. I will order my scribes to furnish you with a writing set, and—” “I have one already,” he said, only afterward realizing that he’d interrupted her. “I’ll be happy to use it.” Luna hesitated a moment before nodding. “Good. I believe you will find Canopy’s collection filled with valuable wisdom. You have a team to lead, now, and she was a great leader.” He closed the book. It called to him, demanding he read it, but now was neither the time nor the place. “There was another pony in the court today. Buckeye. Do you know him?” “I do.” Luna’s looked over his shoulder for a moment, as if gazing at something in the distance. “Electrum’s lieutenant. His dreams are rather interesting. Filled with spiders.” Vermilion grimaced. That was information he hadn’t wanted. “I spoke with him. He thinks we’re making a mistake, fighting monsters outside Equestria. I had thought—I had hoped the new company would not be so close minded.” “They are responding to their fears. We cannot blame them for that. They will not be convinced of their error until we show them they are wrong.” He nodded. “I will show them, princess. I will show them Canopy was right.” He licked his lips. “May we visit your map table again?” Luna smiled at him. Something that might have been the shadow of warmth lingered in her expression. “Whenever you wish, Vermilion.” They walked without speaking through her lair. Vermilion stepped around assorted treasures knocked akimbo by Luna’s dramatics, while she flitted from shadow to shadow, her hooves barely touching the stone floor. Only rarely did he hear the quiet ring of her silver shoes against the granite. The map table – it occurred to him that such a wondrously enchanted artifact as the table probably had a proper name, and he resolved to ask Luna what it was some time when tensions were lower – seemed to have found a new location in the lair, or else Luna had moved the various items around it into a new arrangement. But her stone throne remained behind it, and she flowed up into it as they approached. Vermilion stood and placed his forehooves on the stone. The table began to emit a quiet hum, and soft light spilled out from beneath its surface. Dim shapes moved within, visible as silhouettes against the rock. A play in shadow for his entertainment. “What do you see, Vermilion?” Luna asked. Her voice calmed him, entranced him. The top of the table glowed, and the image of the world appeared. Equestria, bright and strong, held the center of the map. Outside its borders, points of light fought against the encroaching darkness. He let his eyes unfocus, and the map painted a dream on his retinas. “I see a cold town. Perched on the side of a mountain. It is already snowing there, even at the height of summer. Where is this place?” “There are many places where it snows early, but none so early as midsummer that I know,” Luna said. The light of the map lit her features from below, giving them an unearthly cast. “Look deeper, my Vermilion.” “I see the sun setting over a sawtooth mountain range. It rises over a vast bay in the distance, ringed by high cliffs. They are pink… no, they are white, painted pink by the dawn. White as bone.” “White as chalk, you mean,” Luna touched the map, and a ripple spread out from her hoof. The waves of disturbance expanded, hit the rim of the map, and collapsed back onto a new point, far to the north and the east. A bright spot where a long range of mountains met a wide bay that opened into the East Ocean. “Chalcedony Bay,” she continued. She dismounted the throne and stalked around the rim of the table, until she could peer at the point of light on the map. “Named for its brilliant white limestone cliffs. And the town there is indeed cold. Haselnacht, it is called, perched high on the side of easternmost end of the Razorspine mountain range. You’ve found a rather remote place to assist.” Vermilion hopped up onto the table. The map flickered for an instant but remained, and he walked across it to the spot Luna indicated. There seemed to be no major roads connecting it with Equestria. “Haselnacht.” He rolled the world around in his mouth, getting a feel for its foreign taste. “How does one even reach such a place?” “Overland? Months of walking. But by ship it is a journey of a few weeks.” Luna’s horn lit, and a bright path appeared on the map, connecting Everfree with the port city of Huracan and then along the coast to Chalcedony Bay. “Have you ever been on a voyage at sea, Vermilion? There is something quite romantic about it.” He shook his head. “My father had, once. He said it was miserable.” “Well, hopefully you will prove more worldly than he.” Luna stretched out a wing to touch Vermilion’s shoulder, and she guided him to the edge of the map beside her. “I will send a flyer to Huracan and have them charter a ship for your team. Go to this Haselnacht, this… Hazelnight, in your modern tongue, and discover why it is snowing there at midsummer. Find the darkness and destroy it. Will you do this for me, my servant?” Find the darkness and destroy it. Vermilion closed his eyes and savored the order. In an instant, all the fear and unease and panic of the past hour faded away, forgotten, and a new sense of resolve filled him. His purpose was calling for him again. “I will,” he said. “Marvelous.” Luna dipped her muzzle to place a chaste kiss on his forehead. The sensation of ice water flowing down his cheeks set his coat on edge, and he embraced the cold, welcoming it into his core. It no longer chilled him; it was his master’s touch, and she could never harm him. He opened his eyes. The shadows in the lair had faded, and he could see almost normally across the enormous room. Only at the very edges of his sight did the darkness again reign. Fitting, he thought. It was time to bring the dawn to Hazelnight.