The last of the city torches had been lit. A warm glow poured down every street and alleyway, glistening off the smooth and glass-like streets and buildings of the Crystal Empire.
Flash had trotted a full ellipse, and by now he was nearly back at the base of the palace. Just a few more blocks and he'd be within spitting distance of the passages leading down into the banquet hall. The advent of night had cooled the air, calming his already tranquil nerves, and he was ready to oversee the preparations again.
Nevertheless, he took his time, delighting in every sound he heard... every pleasant conversation he chanced upon... every laughing voice that tickled his ears.
A rattling noise filled the torch-lit air. Flash Sentry glanced to his right, spotting a trio of stagecoaches rolling in from the northeast. They bore banners representing distant provinces of Equestria—no doubt—and were heading towards the hotel district behind him. The stallions pulling the vehicles were evidently not local, and Flash momentarily worried that they were going a bit too fast for that part of the city.
His fears were realized when the three stagecoaches rounded the next corner. The stallions drawing the last vehicle of the caravan slipped on the glossy, polished road.
"Ooomf!" one stumbled.
"Guh!" the other slid on his fetlocks.
Wh-Whump! The weight of the stagecoach drew it forward and it bumped into the flanks of the two stallions. While it didn't injure the two ponies, the heavy vehicle hadn't finished shifting. With a loud wooden groan, it teetered towards its side, half-a-second away from collapsing.
"Look out!" a crystal pony across the street shouted.
"It's gonna fall—!"
Flash Sentry gnashed his teeth. His wings shot out and he bolted forward in a golden blur. FWOOOSH!
He threw his agile body straight for the collapsing wagon. As he did so, his peripheral vision caught a golden blur sailing in at a forty-five degree angle.
"I got it!" two male voices formed a chorus.
Thwump!
Flash Sentry braced his back against the wagon, holding it in place. He wasn't alone. Another stallion had joined him, his strong body garbed in silver-blue armor.
"Hold... hold..."
"You got it...?"
"Mrmmfff... yeah..."
"Easy... easy..."
Pacing themselves, Flash and the other good samaritan pushed the wagon back until it balanced evenly on its wheels. The crisis had been averted, and breaths of relief echoed from both sides of the street. Sweating visibly, the ponies who had been drawing the stagecoach stood up and unhitched themselves from the reins to examine the situation.
"Hah..." Flash Sentry swiped his brow, smiling as he panted. "That... was a close one..."
"Thank you citizen," the guard beside him spoke in a serious tone—a practiced voice. "I could have handled it on my own, but I very much appreciate the assist—" He froze as he looked at Flash.
Flash's ocean blue eyes blinked.
The guard's ocean blue eyes blinked.
Flash's muzzle opened slightly. He knew this because he saw the dumbfounded expression in the sheen of the guard's armor. A blue mane'd reflection squirmed nervously. As Flash backed up, he saw the blue mane'd guard gaping back at him... eyes narrow and scrutinous. With each inch that Flash pushed between them, the stallion appeared more and more tense. At last, he held a yellow-orange hoof up—as if to stop the teenager—
Creaakk!
The door to the stagecoah flung open between them. A distressed mare in a flouncey Canterlot dress stumbled out, sobbing. "Oh! Oh my Celestia!" She clung to the nearest pony she could find—the guard. "I positively thought I was going to die!"
"Uhh... n-no, ma'am. You're..." The guard grimaced, struggling to placate her. "You're safe. There's nothing to..." His eyes darted towards Flash again. "...fear."
"I almost broke my neck! Did a wheel break off?! We're not under attack by those dreadful Yaks, are we?!"
"No, ma'am. Not at all, ma'am..." The guard's voice grew fainter and fainter—probably because Flash was backtrotting away at a brisk rate. "Just... j-just wait here a second. Please..." The guard gently pushed her into the comforting forelimbs of a gaggle of citizens who had gathered at the scene. A blink later, he had flown in a gold-and-blue streak towards the next block over. From a distance, Flash watched as the guard touched down in front of a thick group of like-armored troops. He saluted, spoke rapidly, then pointed in Flash's direction. A series of helmets flickered in the torchlight, looking his way.
This was the last thing Flash saw, for he had turned tail immediately. With panting breaths, he galloped straight for the Crystal Palace—bumping awkwardly past a few gasping citizens along the way. Numb and panicked, he made for the first entrance to the underground level that he could find.