The morning sun beamed over the faraway hills and mountains, glints on the orange flagpoles where banners whipped about in the breeze—rays waking many up to yet another morning basked in yet another sunrise. A huge hedge wall surrounded a great portion of land, covering up the garden maze that went on for a good half mile or so, the exit signified by the greater number of flags though cut off by countless misdirections and dead ends.
At this side of the maze, statues proliferated the park grounds. Here, a pegasus adorned with hearts, about to shoot a heart with a bow. There, a robed Earth pony holding an orange flag with three yellow diamonds on it.
Over here, a little to the side though not distant from the entrance, was a statue of someone who was not a pony. Instead, it was a hyrbrid of a creature: bearded reptilian; antler and horn; paw and claw; wings, one pegasus's and one bat's; snake tail tipped with hair.
Before it, a long table and two benches where two ponies sat beside each other.
A.K. Yearling ripped out a marked page of the calendar and threw it at the trash can nearby. "There. Another month gone."
Her gray companion looked at her in askance. "What are you doing that for?"
Silence. Staring off. "Not much. I've let her slip last night. I was this close to catching her—" putting her two forehooves close together but not close enough to touch, to illustrate "—but she poofed out of the area." Shaking her head, she held on to her hat, the wind trying to throw it off.
That friend curled some of her striped purple-white mane. "She must be a good spy...if she is a spy that is."
"I'm leaning towards that," she replied, facing her. "Her being a third party is still an open possibility."
"True."
The two looked off to the sunrise above, feeling the cool wind thrusting stray leaves to loops and leaps in the air, its vigorous sound filling their ears.
"I don't want to burst your bubble, Velvet," Yearling said, breaking the silence, "but...I also know this might sound treasonous, considering why we're here."
"You're getting tired of sitting here in front of a weird statue," Twilight Velvet spoke bluntly.
"Exactly." A pause. "I know that Princess Celestia shifts ponies around every now and then, but we're not working or, well, doing anything."
"It's worth it," Velvet replied. "We're keeping Equestria safe from Discord's release. Granted, I don't know why the Princess chose the two of us—I mean, we're acquaintances and I know you and you know me, but we're not the best of friends and all and—oops!" She covered her mouth, backing away from her. "Oh, did I hurt your feelings?"
Yearling smiled. "I get what you mean. Perhaps there's not that many friendly ponies left in Canterlot." A pause as a sly grin appeared. "Have you seen those scores of nobility marching out?" She snickered. "I'm sure the rest of us 'peasants' are overjoyed at that."
Velvet snickered, too. "Tell me about it!"
Trumpet blares.
They looked up.
A pegasus chariot landing on the stretch of grass before them. The four armored white guards skidded to a halt as Princess Celestia herself stepped down on to the ground.
A smile on her face. "Good morning, my little ponies."
Those "little ponies" stood up and bowed down in front of her.
Celestia brought a hoof to her face; a blushing smile. "You don't have to do that every time we come across each other."
The two got up.
That monarch peered at the jumbled mess of a statued creature known as Discord. "It's in perfect condition." She turned to her subjects. "You're relieved of your admittedly strange duties. I will task two other ponies to take up the helm."
Yearling and Velvet nodded, giving her respecting expressions.
"In the meantime, I will attend to...pressing matters."
Celestia got back to her chariot.
Waved at them. "Farewell."
And away she was.
In some wide open grass field where not much else could be seen even at the horizon, the Princess stood in front of a rumpled stallion wearing a pair of glasses and a blue robe with stars, presenting beside some long-barreled machine with a wheel and some armor plates attached to it.
"I've got something better than cannons or mortar!" he yelled as he rested a hoof on his new-fangled weapon. "I call it, 'the artillery cannon'! It's the best thing since sliced bread!—pardon the cliché." A cough and a sneeze. "Wow! I have spring fever in the middle of the summer! What are the odds?"
"Go on, " Celestia said, a hint of frustration in her voice.
The unicorn levitated a heavy shell, sweating as he struggled to place it inside the chamber.
Locked it inside.
Set off a heavy weight against the barrel's backside.
Covered his ears.
Boom.
Smoke rising out of the cannon. In the distance, a stream of dirt jolted up to the sky.
She and her guards looked on at what they had just witnessed.
"Well, heh, it's a work in progress! I can't rely on weights to fire the thing—unwieldly, unreliable, and unsafe! It's a prototype, yes, but give me, say, a month or two to kink out the defects and the imperfections and it'll be in operating status in no time, Princess!" She saluted her—and his glasses fell off, prompting him to grab it with his hooves.
Celestia nodded. "Your voluminous reading has paid off, Sunburst. In all truthfulness, I cannot reward a pony who serves up new ways of hurt and pain, but I feel that I must do so. After all, this may prove to bring a swift end to the war; the Crystal ponies may give up at the sheer sight of it, despite what that mind control spell has conditioned them to think."
Sunburst nodded rapidly. "Why, yes, yes, of course!"
A pause in that field. "You may now rest. Your two jobs have mentally strained you too much. Besides, you need to get up later at night to meet up with your fellow mages for a special meeting—am I right?"
He nodded again. "That's why I've ordered a whole box of energy drinks! After twenty minutes from my power nap, boom! I'll be up and at 'em like a badger doling out honey! No rest for the wizardly!"
The guards exchanged confused glances with each other.
"Really, Sunburst," Celestia said, dropping her formality a bit. "You need rest."
One of his eyes twitched. "Are you sure about that, your Highness?"
She opened the door and a bell rang.
The librarian stood up from her seat, rushed around the counter, hastily put on her glasses, and bowed down before her. "Princess Celestia! I don't know what I can do to satisfy your needs in this unworthy library!"
Celestia nodded. "Don't worry." She breathed in the musty smell of dusty old books, appreciating the clean shelves of ordered tomes on the walls and in the aisles. "I see that you're quite the housekeeper."
That librarian stood up from her prostrate position. "I...I don't know the words I could—"
The Princess chuckled. "Ironic, knowing that you're a librarian who should know the words to express herself."
She glanced down, puzzled. Then, she laughed at that. "I guess you're right, Princess." A bigger smile.
Celestia's eyes met a door at the back of the library. "How is...your assistant doing?"
"Oh, you mean Crystal Hoof?" the librarian asked, her grin muddled. "He's doing fine for a Crystal pony refugee." She looked up, tapping her chin. "It must be difficult for him to live in a land where his kind is hated. Good thing he managed to escape before the war blew off."
"It is a good thing," Celestia said. "I assume that he is sleeping right now."
She nodded again. "His waking hours are hard to follow. He sleeps at unusual hours. Is that a quirk of his sort of pony?"
"Maybe. Maybe not."
The librarian looked past her shoulders. "Is that all?"
"That's all. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Princess."
Celestia left, the bell ringing once more as the doors opened again.