//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: Midnight's Shadow: Tainted Legacies // by Ponibius //------------------------------// I found it useful to walk through the catacombs within Mount Avalon. Amongst the seemingly endless rows of urns and crypts, I found peace to organize my thoughts and consider my future. Really, I did not know why ponies did not come down here to think, for they avoided them for whatever reason despite the serene tranquility of the skulls of our ancestors staring down from the dark recesses in which they had been placed. In any event, the lack of ponies here left more hallways for me to walk with my thoughts uninterrupted. Between such issues as my career, the budding conflict with Gryphonia, and the conclave, I had much to think about. Pity no easy answers presented themselves. I was pulled from my contemplations by the sounds of voices down one of the hallways. Such was not unusual within the catacombs—ponies did visit deceased relatives, in addition to engaging in other activities I would rather not go into the details of. What was unusual this time was that it sounded like a passionate argument. My curiosity getting the better of me, I followed the voices. What I found was an unusual sight. Surprisingly, I recognized one of the two figures before me: Magus Sidereal Repose was one of Morning Star’s children, and I had come to know him in conjunction with his mother. He was a tall, thin unicorn with a light-grey coat and a dual-grey striped mane whose bangs partially covered his eyes, and a black cloak covering him. His skull was a fine and intelligent one that showed clearly through his thin face. Repose did not immediately take notice of me as I entered the crypt, for the person before him held his full attention. Floating in front of him was a washed-out translucent earth pony mare. Given the location, ‘twas not hard to guess that this was a ghost. The spirit was glaring down at Repose with her arms crossed over her chest. “You do not know what you speak of!” Repose sighed and rubbed his eyes. When he spoke, ‘twas with a deep and gravelly voice. “Ma'am, I assure thee, I know what of I speak. I am a magus and I would not lie about this.” Unable to restrain my curiosity, I announced my presence with a question. “What passes here?” Repose’s shoulders jerked slightly and he craned his head towards me. “Midnight, I did not hear you enter. I was just trying to explain Fair Count’s condition to her.” He growled something under his breath. “Pity she is not being cooperative.” “This fool keeps telling me I am dead!” The ghost jabbed a hoof in Repose’s direction. “Can you believe the nerve?!” Repose groaned. “Because you are dead. I keep explaining this to her, but she will not listen to me.” I blinked slowly as I considered the situation. “As Magus Sidereal says, thou art dead. A ghost, as a matter of fact.” “You have no proof of that,” Fair countered. “I could merely be cursed or something like that. It happens.” Repose shot her a flat glare. “There is a bounty of evidence you are a ghost. Thou art floating before us outside of thy mortal coil. We have already discussed this.” “A curse could do all of that too.” The ghost did not sound as certain about that as I am sure she intended, but I still suspected she would not easily back down from her position. E’en if I was curious why she would deny her deceased condition. As his gravestone cutie mark suggested, Magus Repose was a white necromancer, a practitioner dedicated to protecting the living against the undead and putting lost or disturbed souls to rest. ‘Twas a profession that was not given as much respect as it was owed, in mine opinion. (1) For in a world where many sorts of undead were a regular problem, somepony with their specialized skills had their uses. 1. Due to the intense stigma surrounding black necromancy, many magi were and still are wary of any of the necromantic arts. Though where a black necromancer focuses on the forced raising and controlling of the undead, a white necromancer seeks to pacify them and lay the dead to rest. It’s a distinction lost on many, but it is an important one. “Do you know how she died?” I asked. “She was struck by an out-of-control cart rolling down a hill.” Repose sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. “I doubt she even knew what hit her. That is probably part of why she denies she has passed: a sudden death can make it difficult for some spirits to acknowledge what happened.” I nodded thoughtfully. “Doubtless it struck her chest with the force of a great hammer, breaking her ribs and driving the shards into her lungs which caused her to slowly drown within her own blood. Or perhaps the wheels ran o'er her belly, nearly bisecting her as her guts were brutally crushed beneath the cart's weight.” Repose stared at me for a long moment with a stony expression. “...aye, perhaps something like that.” Fair frowned down at me. “You are quite a little ray of sunshine, you know that?” I tilted my head, bewildered by her comparison. “I merely seek to reconstruct how you died.” “Again I tell you, I am not dead!” the ghost exclaimed. “The ashes of your remains are right here.” Repose tapped a nearby urn with Fair Count’s name imprinted on it. “There was a funeral. Your family was in here earlier trying to explain this to you.” “And one of those louts was probably responsible for cursing me!” Fair crossed her arms over her chest. “Bunch of money-grubbing ingrates, the lot of them. They would just love for me to be dead so they could go claim my inheritance.” Her eyes narrowed, though her translucence robbed the gesture of any potency. “And what makes you so qualified to say that I am a ghost?” Repose let out a put-upon sigh. “My standing as a magus—and at that, a white necromancer whose task it is to deal with the dead. I am quite more qualified to judge such things than most of my brothers and sisters among the magi. I have dealt with dozens of ghosts and am a master of a great many mysteries of the dead. So aye, I am qualified to say thou art a ghost.” “How do I even know ghosts are real?” asked the ghost as she jutted out her jaw. “I myself have never seen a ghost—for all I know the magi are made-up. I would not put it past some greedy bureaucrat to say there are ghosts just to tax good hardworking ponies like me. You magi are always walking around throwing bits everywhere, do not think I have not noticed.” Repose groaned and rubbed the sides of his head. “I assure thee, ghosts are real and thou art one. There is no reason for me to lie about that.” Fair narrowed her eyes. “So you say.” I frowned as I considered the problem before me. “'Twould be easier if we had her bones. Ashes are far less convincing than a complete corpse.” Repose frowned as he looked my way. “Aye, I will be sure to remind families in the future to keep the bones of their deceased loved ones around just in case they need to prove to their ghosts they are truly dead.” There was something about his tone that struck me as odd, but ‘twas probably just mine imagination. I nodded, glad that Repose saw my logic. “That would be a wise thing to do, provided you can persuade them to do so.” Fair scowled at me. “Do you not know what sarcasm is?” I blinked slowly. “I am familiar with it. In fact, I have been known to use it on occasion.” Fair groaned and pressed her hoof to her face. Repose shook his head, grumbling something to himself that I could not hear. “So what brings you by, Midnight?” “I was here and I heard voices.” Repose raised an eyebrow. “You were just wandering around the catacombs?” I nodded. “Yes. I enjoy them.” The ghost tilted her head as she looked me over. “Your friend is a bit touched in the head, is she not?” I glared up at her. “I am perfectly sane, thank you.” Repose cleared his throat to catch my attention. “I think that is enough arguing with Fair for now. Would you mind coming with me to the exit? I need to reconsider the task at hoof.” His eyes flicked to the ghost. “That is fine by me.” I enjoyed Repose’s company, and saw no reason not to walk with him through the dark tunnels of the catacombs where nopony could see or hear us. The two of us made our farewells to the ghost and departed. Repose sighed once we were out of her earshot. “I think I am going to have to use a ritual to deal with Fair. She is a fine example of earth pony stubbornness, and I think her unfinished business will remain so.” I tilted my head. “Why do you say that? What is her unfinished business?” Not every ghost or specter was created as a result of some unfinished business, but many were. Repose grunted from deep in his throat. “Money, mainly. It seems that she and her siblings could never agree on how to divide the family business after the death of their parents. I will not bore you with the details, but suffice to say that the matter remains contentious ‘tween them. I tried to negotiate ‘tween Fair and her siblings so that Fair could pass on peaceably to the hereafter, but we barely got past the greetings before an argument erupted.” “That sounds like a sad set of affairs.” “That it is.” He shook his head. “I would prefer it if Fair could be put to rest peacefully, but I cannot see a way to do so in a timely manner. There are several other matters I wish to deal with before departing for the conclave, and that leaves me little time for Fair. I fear that leaves me no choice but to use a ritual to force the issue.” “We can hardly allow the catacombs to remain haunted,” I agreed. “More haunted than it normally is, in any event. Do you require any assistance with the ritual?” “Neigh, I appreciate the offer, but this is well within my power to resolve. Mayhaps if I worried Fair might become violent I would ask for backup, but she has given me no reason to be worried for my safety or anypony else’s.” Repose smiled. “And what of you? What have you been concerning yourself with? You must have been contemplating something of note if you were wandering about the catacombs.” “You know me too well.” I frowned as I considered my answer. “A great many things, among them trying to decide on whom I wish to have as a patron.” Repose opened the door out of the catacomb for me, closing it after we were outside in the sunlight. “I would think you would have plenty of good options, being the daughter of the Archmagus.” I nodded. “Yes, I have no shortage of choices.” Repose contemplated that for a moment. “Which is the problem, is it not? You have too many to choose ‘tween?” “Yes, I find it difficult to choose one.” I scowled as I remembered one particularly foul possibility. “Other than avoiding Mossy Banks. I do not wish to spend years in a swamp.” Repose raised an eyebrow. “Why not? Archmagus Banks is a skilled and widely respected magus. Many apprentices would kill to have him as a patron.” “He is a fine magus, but he lives in a swamp.” Really, why was this so difficult for everypony to understand? I would think it self evident. “I admit, the bog is no Canterlot, but the whole world is not Canterlot,” Repose tried to explain. “How much of your life have you ever lived outside of this city?” I frowned as I accounted for the scant time I had not lived in Canterlot. “Little of it.” Repose led the way back into the city proper, though he kept his gaze on me. “And yet, the magi are to serve all ponies. You cannot know all their needs or even understand what those are by confining yourself to the capital.” “That is true, but I expect few of them live in swamps.” Repose sighed and shook his head, seeming weary for some reason. “Well, good news is that you have plenty of other options.” “That is very true.” I tilted my head as a realization struck me. “You are nearing the age to need a patron yourself, yes?” “That is true enough.” Repose scratched the back of his mane. “I have not put as much effort into it as I probably should have, what with my work keeping me busy.” “That is commendable.” Certainly I could relate to that. Since becoming a magus I had been keeping quite busy with my work. As a result I had not put too much work into finding a patron until just recently. “Did you have any prospects?” “Mother has talked with Shadow on the matter, and my father had several allies who would likely take me in memory of him,” he answered. “All of them being respectable magi or knights. It’s just a matter of pursuing one at this point. I think I will use the conclave as an opportunity to finalize something.” A pondering frown grew on my lips. “Mother might be willing as well, if you ask.” Repose scratched his chin. “An archmagus as my patron would be quite beneficial to my career.” “It most certainly would.” Thinking it over, I added, “I can speak with her on your behalf if you like. A good word from myself would carry weight with her.” Repose smiled when I gave my offer. “My thanks. I would owe you quite a boon if you could persuade her.” “But of course.” In truth, I was unsure if Mother would actually take a client. She was quite busy, though that in and of itself might convince her to take a client to directly work with her. In recent years she had come to depend more and more on me to aid in her workload, which became somewhat difficult whenever Her Highness sent me off on assignments. This would become even trickier once I took on a patron. I did not wish for my mother to be overwhelmed by her work, and gaining a client to aid her might alleviate the problem. One issue with this plan was that Mother would not like me using mine influence with her in such a manner. But on the other hoof, did she not desire me to gather influence and boons from others for the sake of my career? I could hardly do so without giving out favors in return, and access to Mother was very valuable indeed. I had to be careful not to abuse that commodity lest she become wroth with me and strip me of the ability to offer such favors. Part of me also felt guilty for using mine influence to gain advantage over Repose. He had been nothing but kind to me, and here I was manipulating events to gain myself a boon. ‘Twas possible that he could have gotten Mother as a patron on his own, especially considering Mother might have been able to make Morning Star’s political compliance a prerequisite for making Repose her client—though he probably did not know that. Still, I was helping him, and my word with Mother might carry the day. In any event, I decided not to dwell on all of that for too long during my conversation with Repose. We had reached the edge of Canterlot, and I moved onto something else I wished to talk about while he was here. “I would like to speak to your mother as well. There is a matter of importance I would discuss with her.” “I am sure Mother would see you,” Repose said. “She always did like teaching you.” I nodded. “And I always enjoyed her lessons.” While mine old master’s lessons had not always been easy, I had still learned a great deal about magic and other things from her. I thought fondly of those lessons, and of my old master. The corner of Repose’s mouth turned up in a wry grin. “It probably did not hurt that she always gave you cookies before your lessons.” “Not before the lessons,” I corrected. “As part of them. She enjoyed creating challenges where I received a cookie as a reward. Those were fun.” “It is one way to get an apprentice to try her hardest,” he said. “She should be in her office today. If you wish, I could escort you there. There are supplies I need to pick up at the Royal Armory in any event.” Not seeing any reason to reject his aid, nodded. “That sounds like a fine idea to me.” ‘Twas not long before we arrived at the Royal Armory. About us were the multitude of sounds of craftsmareship taking place: hammers striking metal, chisels chipping away at gems, and a hundred other noises echoed through the building as ponies went about their crafts producing the items needed to protect Equestria. I watched the craftponies and magi as we passed them. I had been here many times, but there was a slightly different air to the place now. ‘Twas something in how the ponies spoke to one another, and the grim manner they did so. Mayhaps ‘twas because of the rumors of war? That would certainly be relevant to this place and their work. “‘Tis been a while since you last worked in here, has it not?” Repose asked as we passed by one of the gemshops. I nodded. “Indeed it has. Not since ... That Project.” There was the slightest hesitation to Repose’s step, and he spoke much more quietly. “You know nopony is to speak of That Project.” (2) A shiver ran up his spine. “What you and my sister created...” 2. All I can say about That Project is that Midnight Sparkle and Nova Flash worked on it, and that it has been locked in the deepest recesses of the Sealed Repository ever since its cancellation. All other information is highly classified, even after the passage of nearly nine centuries since all work was halted on it by Royal Decree. I sighed wistfully, for I really did think That Project had potential before Princess Celestia brought it to an end. “Let us speak no more of it then, lest I be required to kill you for reasons of national secrecy.” A flurry of emotions passed over Repose’s face at my comment, and his mouth remained half open, as though uncertain how to reply. After a couple of moments he finally brought himself to speak. “Right. Mother should be in her office. We just have to get through Nova’s lab to get there.” I turned my head to him. “Ah, so your sister has finally finished her lab?” Repose grimaced. “Yes, though ancestors only knows how she managed to get Her Highness to approve funding for it.” “Why are you so surprised by that?” I asked as we passed by a doorway with Magus Nova Flash’s name plaque on it. “She is a brilliant mare.” Repose shot me an unamused frown. “Because, my sister’s experiments—” A warning cry rang through the new lab. Repose instantly dived behind the nearest desk. I was not far behind him in doing the same, though I tried to place myself in a spot where I could still watch the oncoming destruction. An arc of wild magic shot over our heads and plowed into the nearest wall. There was a flash of arcane energies as the protective wards on the walls of the lab glowed, sparked, and grounded the wild energies that assaulted them. The runes flickered, but they were strong and well made, and soon enough the wild magic ran its course as the energies dissipated. “Sorry! Sorry!” Nova came trotting over to us, speaking in a quick and clipped manner. “Just running an idea that came through my head and I had to experiment to see how it would turn out.” She looked up at the patch of soot-covered stone above us. “Explosively, ‘twould seem.” Nova Flash was a short mare—not as short as myself, but her brother towered over her all the same. She was always moving, her red coat and her short, barely-combed orange and yellow mane made her seem like a perpetually moving flame. Despite nearly destroying us with one of her experiments, she wore an eager smile, and I could see a light twinkling between her bright eyes. Repose glowered at Nova as he slowly stood. “Sister, must we go over lab safety once more?” Nova rolled her eyes. “Neigh, I still remember it well. But what about thee? Dost thou not remember the bell we installed together?” She pointed to a bell hanging next to the doorway. “Thou art supposed to ring it to warn me that somepony is in the lab.” Repose grunted. “I may have forgotten about that.” “Right, so then we agree that this is not my fault.” Nova quickly turned from her brother before he could argue and trotted to a strange-looking device. Dual sigil-covered stone arches circled a mirror and joined at the top of a crystal sphere. Sparks of magical energy, aftereffects of whatever experiment she had been running, flew off of the artifice to hit the ground. I wondered what it did. I no longer kept up with Nova’s work, for the two of us had been forbidden to work together on anything after That Project. A great pity, really; Nova had a great skull that enwrapped a fascinating mind. Nova looked over her artifice, mumbling something to herself as she did so. “Fascinating, fascinating, I did not expect that.” She bolted to a nearby desk to scrounge for some paper and a quill to write with. “Must experiment more. See if I can reproduce results, or preferably, results less explosive and more productive. If I can stabilize the anima flow and redirect the photonic gravitational emitter...” “Nova, art thou poking at the fabric of the universe again?” Repose scolded. “Thou knowest how Mother gets whenever thou speakest of this ‘quantum’ of thine.” Nova snorted dismissively as she examined her device. “Mother is too cautious. One can only get results by prodding, poking, and testing to see what happens. Either we were made by divine beings who wish for us to discover the nature of the universe, or we live in a determinist reality where only the will of the individual matters.” Her eyes and grin widened. “Oooh! New idea!” Nova ran over to a desk seeking a piece of paper that still had enough margin space for an additional note. She had a brilliant mind, but it seemed to me that it had so far outpaced her body that it occasionally sent letters back of the interesting things that had caught its fancy and expected the body to follow up on. Her whole lab reflected her chaotic nature; all about the lab were tables covered with half-finished projects and stacks of paper. The walls were lined by disorganized shelves full of instruments, ingredients, and tools, and chalkboards absolutely covered by Nova’s notes. In truth, ‘twas only through an act of will and manners that I did not immediately start going about organizing the chaos before me. The mess grated against my desires for an orderly world, and I had sought to do so during the time I had worked with her. Though having everything organized for her had only driven Nova to work all the faster as her work became more efficient. We had gotten quite a bit done before That Project. “Hello, Nova.” I waved to her, not entirely sure she had even noticed me due to her scatterbrained nature. “I see your work proceeds well.” Nova nodded vigorously as her quill flew over a fresh piece of paper. “Oh yes. Been busy, busy, busy. Lots of testing, lots of results, lots of data collected. I have been quite happy since getting my own lab, even if the neighbors complain about the noise and explosions, and things creeping in between the cracks in reality, and...“ She stopped to think. Or perhaps breathe. “Ah yes, the fork incident.” Repose cleared his throat. “Thou knowest Her Majesty forbade us to speak of that.” “Genius is not appreciated in its time,” Nova grumbled as she shook her head. “No appreciation for the sciences.” I stepped up to the artifice that had nearly burnt my coat and skin to a charred ruin, melting the flesh from my bones to my immense agony, and destroying my very soul with chaotic energies that the world was not ready for. I had trouble determining exactly what it was at a single glance, for its workings were quite complex. “What is this?” Nova smiled widely, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, that is my—” She was cut short when her brother abruptly pressed his hoof to her muzzle. “No, nooo. I do not want you two working together again. You amplify one another, and I do not think Canterlot can survive such a thing twice.” Nova glowered at her brother. “But Midnight is one of a mere hooffull of ponies who can even understand my work! Dost thou know how frustrating that is when thou wishest to explain thine ideas?” “‘Tis no small mercy that so few can truly grasp what thy mind can, sister.” Repose let out a huff. “Perhaps we can talk of something other than breaking reality, or accidentally unleashing unspeakable horrors upon our world?” “I appreciate your work,” I assured Nova. “So long as it does not end in horrors from beyond imagining and gruesome, gory death. Such things are best avoided, in mine opinion.” Nova smiled. “D'aw, my thanks. 'Tis good to be appreciated for once. Oh! New idea!” She went back to writing whatever idea had struck her this time. Repose groaned and ran his hoof down his face. “Always with the new ideas.” “I have to keep myself busy somehow,” Nova said as she continued scribbling. “I offered my aid to whatever project Mother is doing, but she told me blah blah blah ‘tis a secret blah blah given by the Archmagus Blah Blah, get outside more and meet a nice pony blah blah blah.” “I assure thee, ‘tis for a good reason,” Morning Star said from behind her daughter. Nova jerked in surprise and dropped her paper and quill. “Mother! I-I did not know you were coming to visit.” Morning gave her daughter a wry grin. “That is not a problem, is it? Surely thou art not speaking poorly of thy mother at this very moment?” “N-never!” Nova might have had a fine mind, but her intelligence did not lend itself towards convincing deception. Considering I quite liked Nova, I decided to see if I could distract her mother with my presence. “Hello, Morning. What project is this that Nova speaks of?” Morning waved the issue off. “Just something thy mother has me working on, thou hardly needst to worry about the specifics.” She smiled towards me. “Besides, it has been too long since I have seen thee for us to jump right into talking of business.” My shoulders shrugged slightly. I was a bit curious about what Morning was doing for Mother, but I would hardly force her to tell me. “Very well then. If I might impose, there are matters I wish to discuss.” “Of course.” Morning nodded to her children. “Sidereal, kindly ensure that thy sister does not burn down, blow up, or otherwise destroy anything valuable whilst I speak with Midnight.” A wide grin grew on Nova’s face. “Come brother, thou canst help me carry Magus Luminous Flair’s fluxfield resonator from his lab.” “What does he want with that?” Repose asked cautiously. Nova pushed him towards the doorway. “Let me show thee.” Repose looked to Morning pleadingly as he was moved against his will. “Mother?” “Aid thy sister, but keep her out of trouble,” Morning told him as she escorted me to her office. Repose attempted to raise objections over his mutually contradictory instructions, but his mother left him to his fate. As befit an a mare of her station, Morning’s office was filled with its bookshelves, workstation, and the other necessities of her work. Among the things that caught mine attention was a plate of still steaming cookies lying in wait on her desk. She always seemed to have them at the ideal temperature right as I walk in her door. “Ah, I see you were prepared for mine arrival.” I smiled as I tilted my head. “Even if I am not sure how you knew I was coming and had time to prepare them.” “As thine old master, I am allowed a few secrets.” Morning inched the plate towards me. “I know thou art fond of my cookies, and I could hardly disappoint thee.” “You are too kind.” I took a bite out of one. ‘Twould have been a terrible waste to do otherwise. Morning had always made cookies for our lessons together, and ‘twas one of the things I always looked forward to when seeing her. It made me feel appreciated for her to go to such lengths for a visit I had not even scheduled in advance for. “Hardly so.” She waved vaguely as she sat down at her desk. Where her daughter’s desk and workspace were chaotic messes, Morning’s was a far more ordered affair, with everything having its place in her little part of the world. “Thou art mine old apprentice after all, and I enjoy thy visits a good deal.” “As I enjoy visiting you,” I assured her. Morning smiled and nodded. “So what aside from a pleasant reunion brought thee to the Armory?” Seeing no reason to avoid the issue, I dove in. “A matter of patronage. Namely, Mother believes ‘tis time for me to choose a patron, and I am trying to find a suitable one for my mentorship.” “Is that so?” Morning leaned back in her seat as she gave me her full attention. “What is on thy mind?” “First and foremost is that if I do not secure one swiftly, Mother will send me to Mossy Banks.” I shivered as I considered the nature of bogs and swamps and their endless sickening filth. “Such is a terrible fate I wish to avoid.” “That does not sound so bad,” Morning answered evenly. “Mossy Banks is a highly respected archmagus. He would make for a fine patron for thee.” I shook my head. “Aye, but he lives in a bog.” Morning frowned deeply before replying. “I doubt he will force thee to roll around in the mud all day, Midnight.” “But 'twill be impossible to entirely avoid the dirt, mud, and other types of filth.” My skin crawled as images of the fate awaiting me in the bog filled my mind. “No doubt he would desire me to crawl through the muck for ingredients for potions, or to track through the bog to slay monsters and troublesome spirits, gathering all manner of dirt on my person daily.” “Thou canst hardly expect to be a magus and avoid all dirt,” Morning chastised. “And from what I have heard of thine adventures, thou shouldst already know that. Really, ‘tis beneath the dignity of a magus to carry on about such insignificant things.” My ears wilted. This was starting to sound like talking with Mother. “I know that. But there is a significant difference between accepting that dirt is impossible to avoid generally and living in a crusty swamp.” Morning sighed and shook her head. “Who else hast thou considered as a patron?” I was quick to seize this new line in the conversation. “Lady Protector Shadow or her daughter Gale would both be quite suitable.” After a moment I added, “Or another magus of distinction.” Morning nodded. “All fine ideas. Thou wouldst do well being their client, but a capable magus would benefit thee as well.” I hesitated before I stated, “If I might be so bold, you are a magus of distinction.” Morning blinked, but smiled as the suggestion sunk in. “Thou desirest me as thy patron? I am most flattered.” “You have been an excellent instructor,” I said. “And you are well-respected by your peers and influential in your own right.” “Thank you, thou art most kind.” Morning sat back in her chair and frowned in contemplation. “If thou wishest me to be thy patron, then I would be honored.” That was very good to hear, for I would not mind serving as Morning’s client, even if she was perhaps not the most prestigious patron I could have. I would vastly prefer her than going to a bog, in any event. Though that did bring to mind a matter that could stand solidly ‘gainst Morning becoming my patron. “My one concern is that Mother might not approve of you, given your current ... disagreements. She is rather irritated by your differences in opinion regarding Gryphonia.” “Ah.” Morning frowned and took some time to think. “So I can understand thy worries. Thy mother does highly place loyalty to herself, as has always been her way.” “I suspect she would be far less troublesome if you ceased to publicly disagree with her,” I said after some hesitation. “Mayhaps my becoming thy patron could be the catalyst for bringing you two together again?” “That is ... something I will have to think about.” Morning stood and paced about the office. “I would love to have thee as my client, but rescinding my beliefs is not something I would do lightly.” She turned to face me, her eyes solemn. “How seriously dost thou wish for me to be thy patron?” My answer was not quick in coming. “I would very much like it, though I grant that I would also like Shadow or Gale. In truth, I have not yet decided who I wish to be my patron. Right now I am going around to see who might be interested. If somepony were to reject me first then I would hardly need consider them, though thus far both Shadow and Gale have accepted the idea, and Mother says that Mossy Banks would as well.” I shivered at the lattermost proposal. Morning frowned slightly. “I do not wish to sound cold, but from the sounds of it, thou simply needst to make a decision one way or another so the matter is finally laid to rest. If making peace with thy mother is a requirement to be thy patron, then I will give serious thought to doing so. If not, then I shall stick with my convictions. What is more, I will not compromise my convictions on a possibility—a promise thou wouldst become my client, aye, but I would not change my stance for less.” “That ... is reasonable, I suppose.” I sighed, for what else could I have expected? Morning would not have publically broken with Mother if ‘twere some minor matter. “I mislike seeing the two of you in conflict.” “‘Tis not something I enjoy either, believe me.” Morning ran a hoof through her mane. “But I truly see little to be gained by being passive with the gryphons. If they wound us, then we should wound them back. For too long we have tolerated their reivers, and that must end.” “Mother agrees, she simply counsels that we not respond impetuously,” I pointed out. “If High King Severus does not bring the reivers to heel in reasonable time, she argues we would then be within our rights to act.” Morning let out a huff. “I hardly think we act impetuously when for most of my life we have lived with unceasing reiver attacks. The only time I can think of where a year or two passed without incident was when Pegasopolis raided into Westmarch and destroyed the reiver camps.” “War should never be entered lightly,” I stated. “The cost in blood and treasure is too high for that.” Morning took a deep breath. “I know that, and this is not something that I take lightly. I have already lost a husband to war, and it terrifies me to consider thee or my children fighting in another one. But this matter is something that has plagued my thoughts for some time. How many attacks wouldst thou have Equestria tolerate before 'tis too much to bear? Must Manehattan fall all over again before we finally act and declare Gryphonia our mortal enemy?” I frowned as I wondered just how far Morning had convinced herself that a war was inevitable. Most other ponies I had spoken to about Gryphonia and the reivers wished for war either to right a wrong done to Equestria, out of revenge for wounds inflicted, or e’en a desire for martial glory, but Morning spoke of something different. She was contemplating the future long-term struggle ‘tween Equestria and Gryphonia in full, not just the immediate conflict with reivers ahead of us. What exactly that meant I did not know. Mayhaps not even Morning herself did at that time. “No,” I agreed. “I do not wish for matters to become so dire that a city like Manehattan should fall to gryphon reivers, for the city to be sacked, for rapine and slaughter to run through its streets in an orgy of senseless violence as persons and property are systematically violated, for soldiers to be beheaded, their blood flowing through the streets and their heads placed on pikes, all while helpless citizens are placed in chains to be enslaved to the pleasure of gryphon nobles who will break their new subjects to their wills and slowly work them to death over decades of senseless hardship that could only be filled with utter despair as their city and home is turned into a giant reiver camp for yet more atrocities to be committed.” I blinked slowly. “Nor does Mother.” Morning groaned and rubbed her forehead. “Where thy mother and I disagree is over degrees. Mayhaps she knows something I do not, but I think 'tis time we seriously think about going on the offensive. Mayhaps if we launch our own raid, we can show the gryphons that we are no longer their prey to be treated lightly.” “And if that provokes a general war?” I asked. “Need I remind you, if the gryphons see us as the aggressors in a war then Severus’ nobles might very well rally under his banner to create a mighty united host. Conversely, if Severus launches an unprovoked war his nobles might not be so willing to answer his call to battle.” Morning’s eyes narrowed. “Assuming the lords and ladies of Gryphonia are not eager for an opportunity for glory and spoils.” Her tone was dismissive, telling me exactly the type of low regard she held for the nobility of Gryphonia. It seemed she thought of them as no better than the reivers. “After a decade of civil war?” I countered. “I doubt they would be so eager for more after so much war and death already.” Morning shook her head. “Thou dost not understand the gryphons. Even if they are war-weary and their coffers empty from fighting one another, they will still see opportunities in attacking Equestria. The loot the reivers bring back home will wet their appetites as it always has. They will see the chance to seize spoils, capture prisoners to ransom, and take land to divide into new estates for themselves. Not to mention how many of them could become very wealthy if they force Equestria to pay an indemnity.” I frowned deeply as I considered those points. She was not incorrect; I had read gryphon chronicles which spoke highly of the Fall of Manehattan and the time of Gryphonia’s ascendancy, not least because of how rich stealing the wealth of Equestria made them. ‘Twas just a matter of how correct she was in her assessment of the gryphons of today. Could the gryphons really just not be reasoned with? Did they really only desire war and spoils from us? Was peace but a passing dream, and the land would soon be consumed by blood and fire once again? These disturbing thoughts left me with a pit of dread in my stomach. I always liked to think I had options whatever situation I found myself in, but more and more I felt myself being suffocated by the realities closing in around me. I sighed. “Then what are we to do if it does come to war?” “I am no general,” Morning answered with a shrug. “I will leave the matters of strategy and tactics to those better suited for them, and I am supremely confident in the Lady Protector and Her Highness. Mine expertise falls to the magical arts, and in that I know we have the means to fight.” Her hoof trailed along the rune-lined edge of a black folder on her desk. The only clue I had for what it must be were the words ‘Sealed Repository’ printed along its top. Was this the project that Nova had mentioned earlier? If ‘twas some secret project by the Sealed Repository, then that would explain why Morning was keeping its details secret. I frowned as I considered what might be going through her mind. The Lunar Rebellion had not been so long ago that I had forgotten some of the terrible magics unleashed during the conflict. “I see.” Morning placed a hoof on my shoulder and met my eyes with a serious stare. “This is not something I say lightly, but thy mother is not always right. She is very intelligent and capable, but even the best of us can err now and again.” The way she had said that disturbed me, though I could not say precisely why. Naturally I knew Mother was not perfect, but there was something else to Morning's words that I could not grasp. Mayhaps the alliances and factions I had grown up with were less solid than I had once thought? “I ... shall bear that in mind. She has her own concerns, given how many of her allies disagree with her.” “And yet most of them still support Daylight to become archmagus, myself included.” Morning glowered. “Magus Gleaming Topaz hardly offers anything to appeal to me. Especially when she belongs to Polaris’ faction.” Morning held a great grudge against Duke Polaris for his part in her husband’s death, however indirect. (3) So ‘twas little surprise she had no inclination to see Polaris’ choice favorite become an archmagus. 3. After the Lunar Rebellion, it was common for most to lay the blame on Duke Polaris for the disastrous battle that became known as Polaris’ Folly, though how much of the defeat was Polaris’ fault is debated among historians. Naturally the facts that his army was weakened by Hidden Facts’ betrayal while still trying to support Fillydelphia have to be taken into account. Though it can’t be disregarded that he still turned down the support of the Kicker Clan, and as a result made his army overly dependant on the very magi-turned-warlocks that would betray him, and the fact is Polaris placed his army in an extremely vulnerable position, giving Rightly the advantage over his army due to a lack of pegasi support. Nonetheless, the most important effect of the battle for the time period was that most had come to fault Polaris for his defeat, and the fact he didn’t have the grace of being killed during the battle hadn’t helped his cause. In truth, the nobility had been struggling to regain their prewar levels of power. The Lunar Rebellion saw them stripped of many of their traditional powers and rights while also seeing them humiliated both due to their defeat at Polaris’ Folly and the betrayal by some of their numbers. Mayhaps I was biased due to Mother’s influence and the fact that Duke Pure Line had nearly had me sacrificed to a dark god by driving a dagger into my chest to have my still beating heart cut from my breast, but I felt little pity for them as a whole. Still, they were working hard to make Magus Gleaming Topaz an archmagus and break Mother’s monopoly on the archmagus seats. “‘Tis good to hear you still support Magus Daylight. Perhaps the two of you should converse?” I hesitated, unsure if I should say this outloud, but ‘twas the truth of how I felt. “I dislike seeing Mother argue with ... one of the mares I have considered to be a second mother to me.” Morning froze momentarily at my words, but then smiled and placed a hoof on my shoulder. “For thee, I will speak with her.” “Thank you, Morning.” I smiled back, feeling quite relieved that Morning was willing to negotiate with Mother. Mother was always a persuasive mare, so mayhaps she could make something of the opportunity I had presented to her. She might even be pleased with me for doing so. “Now then.” Morning levitated the plate of cookies in front of me. “Thou hast hardly touched thy cookies.” I nodded and picked one up, feeling as if my burdens were that much lighter. “‘Tis past time to correct that.”