//------------------------------// // XVIII: The Duke // Story: Empty Horizons // by Goldenwing //------------------------------// Twilight’s hooves twitched, activating her airjets. She grunted into her helmet as the sudden acceleration threw her sideways, behind the floating mass of a pillar. Moments later, the water where she had just been was boiled away by a lance of brilliant, purple-tinged energy. She heaved a deep breath, grabbing onto the pillar to steady herself in the water. It had been thrown into a ponderous tumble by the winged beast’s attack. The sheer white glow of the monster seemed almost to twinkle as it played along the spinning column’s architecture, and for a moment Twilight imagined it to be hunting her. “Ye alright over there, ‘Light?” Flint’s voice growled into her ear over the radio. “I’m fine,” she said. A trickle of magic pooled in her horn as she sent out pings, gauging the beast’s movements from how the feedback distorted. “Just keep moving!” The monster’s glow flared painfully as it glided into direct view, opening its maw to release a mournful cry. It rounded on a drifting brick wall, distorting the magic around it. “Flint, get away from there!” Twilight shouted. She clenched her teeth, squinting into the flash of light as the monster unleashed its attack. Flint’s curses crackling in her ears bore proof of his survival. When the light dimmed enough for her to open her eyes again, the bricks had been split into melted clumps of slag. Sabre’s voice clicked onto the radio. “Trails, AJ, keep up the repairs. I’m going out to help.” “No!” Twilight snapped. She pushed off of the column she was hiding behind, propelling herself towards the closest chunk of island. It’s not like cover had made any difference so far. “Focus on the repairs while we distract it!” “Tactical command, Twilight,” Sabre said. The sound of the airlock filling with water was audible in the background. “Got it, boss,” Trails said. “AJ, fasten this pipe down!” Twilight growled into her helmet, making sure to cut her mic off first. Why wouldn’t they listen? The anger swelled inside her, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. Stay in control, Twilight. “Eyes open, ‘Light!” Flint said. “It’s comin’ fer ye!” Twilight blinked, refocusing on the water around her. The monster’s song cut through the water around her as it angled towards her. Its glow was just dim enough for her to make out how it spread its wings, stretching its beak wide, before her vision burst into white. “Agh!” Magic raced unbidden to Twilight’s horn, teleporting her out of the way of the attack. Her heart pounded against her chest as Fellis Island’s shattered remains spun before her visor. She reached out with her hooves, her dive suit’s steady ticking accelerating as she tried to cancel out the spin with her airjets. “Y’all okay, Twi?” Applejack asked. “Talk to me, girl!” “Uh, I—still here,” Twilight said, struggling to get her breathing under control. What was that? She had never had her magic act of its own volition like that, almost as if it had a life of its own. She could feel something dark curling up inside her. It was the same thing that had spoken to her before, bidding her to destroy a ship full of ponies. Stay away from me! You need me. “Oof!” Twilight bumped into something, stopping her spin enough for her to get her bearings. She had drifted into the gutted hull of an airship and collided with a bloodstained steel wall inside it. A limp hoof reached out from beneath a pile of stone, the current making it bob side to side as if reaching for help. I don’t want your help! Twilight thought. I can take care of myself! The dark thing didn’t answer, but she could almost feel it baring fangs in a soulless smile. Forcing herself to focus on the immediate danger, Twilight looked up towards the glowing beast darting through the floating field of rubble above the ship. It sang its sadness at the water, weaving around a clump of trees. A lithe pegasus form cut through the water beside it, trailing twin streams of bubbles from its wingtips. As she watched, the monster reared up and released another beam of energy. For a moment, the beam illuminated the ocean depths as a lightning bolt at night. When Twilight blinked the after-image away, the pegasus was nowhere to be seen. “Sea Sabre!” she called. “Are you alright?” “It just grazed me,” Sabre’s calm voice responded. “The suit held up, but I wouldn’t want to put it through another. Flint, take over.” “Right, boss.” “Let me do it!” Twilight said, climbing to her hooves. “I can see where it’s going to shoot and get out of the way.” She began sending out more pings as she spoke, making for the open water. The monster rounded on her as if on cue, immediately honing in on the wreck she had taken shelter in. Uh oh. “‘Light, turn yer spell off!” Flint barked. “It’s trackin’ ye!” Twilight could already see the pings distorting around her. Her eyes darted side to side in search of escape, but the wreck had her hemmed in. The only escape was forwards, straight into the path of the forming beam. Twilight cried out as she threw herself against the side of the ship, clenching her eyes shut. Even through the visor, the light was bright enough to blind. The normally chill metal of her dive suit seared against her coat, drawing a scream from her lips. The dark thing pulsed inside of her. Even buried beneath the pain of her burning skin, she could feel it clawing for her magic. Stay away! she shouted. I don’t need you! At last the heat began to subside. Twilight shook her head, trying to blink the blinding brightness out of her eyes. Something wet trickled against the tingling flesh on her side. Blood? No, it wasn’t warm like blood. This wetness was deathly cold. “Twilight, report!” Sabre ordered. “It—my suit!” Twilight twisted her neck, spotting the drooping gash that had been melted along the side of her armor. She couldn’t see bare fur, but her blood ran cold at the sight of the bubbles leaking from the compromised material. Freezing water sprayed against her side, trickling down her legs and pooling around her hooves. “My suit’s compromised! I’m heading back for the sub!” She activated her airjets, only to find herself thrown into a sudden spin. The ticking of her suit stuttered and jerked as the world twisted around her, the wreck’s hull coming up to slam into her visor. Water sprayed against her face. Her visor had cracked from the impact. Static buzzed in her ears, broken up with brief bursts of garbled speech that were impossible to make out. She tried to roll onto her side and catch sight of the open water, but her suit resisted her. She had never heard it tick so slowly before. Her legs were completely submerged in the freezing water lapping at her belly. She screamed at the cracked glass of her visor, finally managing to roll herself over. The water that had been collecting around her hooves shifted, leaving her face half submerged. She angled her muzzle to one side, taking small, quick breaths. The monster was still watching her. Why was it so determined to end her, even as Sea Sabre flew circles around it and Flintlock fired volley after volley into its side? Its glow grew brighter, taking over the small, cold world that existed on the other side of her visor. Let me in. “No!” Twilight growled. She sputtered as salty water leaked into her mouth, forcing her to swallow it. You’re evil! I’m necessary. Twilight clenched her teeth, gathering power in her horn. If she was careful, she could teleport out of the way without using too much magic. She could find the sub and then make another teleport inside. She could help with the repairs while Sabre and Flint continued their distraction. The monster spread its wings, its glow flaring up. She squinted into it, focusing on the teleportation spell. Just a little one out into the open water, and one more to the sub. Her chest tightened as she braced herself. All at once she forced it out and— Twilight blinked. She was lying in bed, wrapped between the mutual embraces of her pillows and sheets. Sunlight filtered past her half-drawn window curtains, the warm rays painting the swirling grain patterns on her walls in a sleepy orange. She groaned, rubbing at her eyes with her hooves as she rolled over. Her friends were in danger. She was in danger. There were songbirds playing in the branches outside her balcony. Her thoughts came slowly, trudging through the fog of her mind. How did she get here? Did I… die? “No,” she mumbled. “Oh, no. No, no, no…” Twilight slid a leg under herself, trying to get up. Why was her body so heavy? “I need… to go back.” A cold hoof pressed down on her shoulder, and she fell back into the pillow. Twilight’s own kind voice whispered into her ear. “Where are you going, little flower?” Twilight frowned into the comforting fabric of her pillow. Mustering her strength, she planted her forelegs and slowly pushed herself onto her back. She blinked up at herself in confusion. The Other Twilight smiled, revealing its jagged teeth. Sprawling red tear stains framed its cheeks as it spoke. “Don’t you want to sleep?” Twilight did want to sleep. “My friends…” “You deserve a rest,” The Other cooed. It grabbed the blankets and tucked them up around Twilight’s neck. “I can handle everything.” The sheets were like lead on Twilight’s shoulders, warm like spring sunshine but for the small spot of cold where The Other’s hoof touched it. The scent of rose pudding tickled at her nostrils. Spike must be making dessert. “No,” Twilight said. She brushed the cold hoof away. The sheets felt a little lighter as she struggled to peel them back, dragging herself to the bedside. “No… rest… “ The Other’s smile bled away as it stepped back, its hoofsteps accompanied by quiet little splashes of water. “Sleep, little flower.” Twilight stopped to take a break as she reached the edge of the bed. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing the soft fabric to caress her cheek. She could hear her mother humming a lullaby. Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to lay your sleepy head. Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to go to bed. She flicked her eyes back open. There was more work to be done, no matter how hard the bed tugged at her consciousness. Twilight lifted her head, peering over the edge of the bed. Her blankets fluttered in a strange wind. A shallow ocean awaited her at the bottom of a cliff, the mirror-still water reflecting her tired face. The Other leaned over her in the reflection, its lips pressed into a firm line. “You must rest, little flower.” Twilight latched onto the bed with both forelegs, pushing herself forwards. “Not… yet.” The bed vanished. The songbirds cut out with a sudden screech. Howling wind ripped at Twilight’s face as she plummeted down the cliffside towards the still water. She could see herself through it as if from above, her body sheathed in arcane energies and her throat rough with the guttural howls coming from it. The bird monster lay crippled on a cracked statue of Celestia beneath her, its glow all but gone and its wings hanging limply at its side. The sloth drained from her mind as she fell, allowing her to pick out the monster’s patchy feathers that rippled in the current with the colors of the sunset, failing to conceal its scarred hide. Red tears trailed down the bare skin of its face, framing eyes that still glowed with a brilliant white aura. Philomena. Twilight watched as her body spawned a javelin of rippling purple energy, lifting a hoof in the air. The arcane weapon hovered over Philomena’s sagging breast, focusing its power. “No,” Twilight breathed, now fully alert. She reached a hoof out to the waters waiting an infinite distance below her, willing herself to fall faster. “No! Stop!” Her body dropped its hoof, and the javelin fell with it. Twilight only had enough time to see the shockwave shatter the statue of Celestia below Philomena before the still water rose up to meet her. Anatami’s hoof caressed the soft silver fabric at her neck. She angled her body to one side, watching the way the dress complemented her flanks. She gave the mirror in her cabin a little smile. She jumped at the solid thudding of a hoof knocking against her door. Pinkie Pie’s voice sing-songed from the other side. “Ana?” Ana huffed as she went to take the dress off, her hoof fumbling with just one of the several buttons involved in the process. Damn that Countess and her fancy dresses. “Ana, are you up?” Pinkie called, knocking again. “We’re almost at Altalusia!” The doorknob twisted in place. Ana lunged for the door, pinning it closed. “I’m not dressed!” she snapped. Another of the buttons came loose, and she began shuffling a leg out of its sleeve. “Neither am I!” Pinkie cheered. “Do you even have any clothes?” Ana paused. It was possible that she had made a mistake. “Of course I have clothes, Auntie.” “But I’ve never seen you wear any!” Pinkie said. “Oh oh! Is it that dress Rarity made you? I bet it is! You want to show it off back home, don’t you?” There was a thump as Ana let her head fall against the door. Great. She had talked herself into a corner. She didn’t have any other clothes. Taking off the dress now couldn’t do anything more than possibly raise suspicion. “You saw right through me,” Ana deadpanned, tail flicking. She sighed as she slipped her leg back through the sleeve and redid the buttons. “Aw, I knew it!” Pinkie exclaimed. The wood outside Ana’s door squealed complaints as the pink mare hopped in place. “Well, get it on! I’ll be waiting right here!” Ana allowed herself a brief roll of the eyes before getting into character. Why didn’t I just pretend to be asleep? Eugh, she would probably have just come in anyways. Straightening the dress and putting on a timid smile, Ana reached out and opened the door. She didn’t flinch when the confetti flew into her face. “Surprise!” Pinkie reared up on her hind legs as she blew the obnoxious little party horn into Ana’s face. She held a small box wrapped in cool blue with white ribbon. “You’re invited!” Ana blinked. She forced her smile a little bit wider. “Invited?” “To my Getting-the-Gang-Together party!” Pinkie explained, shoving the little package into Ana’s hooves. “I don’t know when it’s happening yet, but it’s really happening!” “How can you invite me to a party if you don’t know when it happens?” Ana asked. She looked down at the box, pulling the little card tucked into the ribbon out. “YOU’RE INVITED TO PINKIE PIE’S GETTING-THE-GANG-TOGETHER PARTY AT ALTALUSIA THIS ???” “Cause I do know where it happens, silly filly!” Pinkie winked at her. “All my friends are gonna be there, so I thought I’d invite you too! The more the merrier, after all!” “All your friends?” Ana echoed. “I thought you hadn’t spoken with them since you left Heighton?” “Pfft!” Pinkie blew a loud raspberry into the air. “Trust me, I’ve got a good feeling about this. Everybody who’s anybody is gonna be there, and it’s gonna be a real doozy!” “Everybody, huh?” The gears were ticking in Ana’s head. If the other four Gifted were coming, then Gava probably wouldn’t be very far behind. And if Gava had lost the trail, then Ana could send some messages out to try and tip her off. Altalusia had a thaumagram station, didn’t it? Probably not a public one, but she was sure she could find a private one on some baron’s land. She renewed her smile, more sincere this time. “Sounds like fun.” “Yeppers! Nice dress, by the way!” Pinkie gave her an exaggerated wink. “Let me tell you, girl, you look good!” “Thanks for the invitation,” Ana said, shutting the door. “Wait!” Pinkie’s hoof flashed out, catching the door with surprising strength. Ana couldn’t help but flick her tail in annoyance. “We’re almost there, silly filly! Aren’t you gonna come out?” Ana let out a sigh. “I suppose I should.” She turned back to the satchel propped up against her bed. Aside from the dress, all of her meager possessions were contained therein. “I’ll be right out.” “Okie doki loki!” Pinkie said, withdrawing her hoof. “I’ll be waiting right here!” Safe behind the door, Ana rolled her eyes before walking over to the bed. She frowned at the mirror leaning against one wall. Stupid filly. Ought to find some place to sell off the dress and never think of it again. She looked down at the invitation once more before stuffing it into her satchel, a plan taking shape. Lady Rarity and Pinkie Pie could be formidable opponents, but she was certain that Gava and the rest of the crew would be able to handle them. She would do some scouting for ideal ambush spots once she was off the ship. Chances were that Gava had already captured the other Gifted and was looking for Ana’s leads even now. A small smile tugged at Ana’s lips as she slung the satchel’s strap over her shoulder. She was looking forward to having a nice, long break. Rarity leaned back into the cushioned seat of the carriage, watching the afternoon countryside drift past. Countryside. She had spent most of her life living in Ponyville, and yet the oat fields and wooded hills in the distance felt almost as foreign as the ruins of Canterlot. It felt like it had been a lifetime since she’d been able to look out a window and see nothing but a field of oats swaying beneath a windmill. “This is your first time on a baronland, isn’t it?” Whitehorn asked. He was reclining against the opposite seat, a small notepad cradled in his hoof. “It feels strangely like home,” Rarity said, keeping her gaze on the window. Her ear flicked as the sound of Pinkie Pie pestering the wagon crew outside competed with the idle birdsong from a passing copse of trees. “I can’t even see the water from here.” “I had the same thought my first time,” Whitehorn said. “I find that it gives the ponies here an interesting perspective.” “Hrm.” Rarity blinked in surprise as the carriage jostled to a halt. “Oh, are we there already?” Whitehorn shook his head. “Nearly. The guards will just want to speak with us.” Rarity poked her head out of the window, quickly spotting the stallion and mare speaking with Pinkie in front of the carriage. An iron gate, the top lined with sharpened spearheads served as the only visible entry past the thick stone wall behind them. “Hi, I’m Pinkie Pie!” she was saying, bouncing in place. “We’re here to see the Duke!” The two guards exchanged incredulous glances. Each of them wore simple, trim outfits in earthy hues, with the image of a pike crossed over an orange shield emblazoned on the flanks. The stallion, a unicorn with a barbed sheath over his horn, was the first to speak. “What’s yer business with Duke Titus?” His partner, a pegasus mare whose folded wings partially concealed the gun at her side, nudged him and gestured towards Pinkie’s bare flank. “Gifted,” she said. The two guards tensed, and Rarity felt it was best to intervene before Pinkie did something too silly. She cleared her throat and waved a hoof out the window. “Excuse me, dears! Is there any issue?” The guards turned towards her. The stallion approached while the mare took a few steps backwards. Rarity wasn’t a soldier, but she couldn’t help but notice how she kept the gun’s barrel trained on Pinkie. “State your business,” the stallion said as he came up beside the window. “As my energetic friend already stated, we are here to speak to Duke Titus,” Rarity said, giving him a sweet smile. “I am Countess Rarity.” The stallion grunted. “I ain’t ever heard of any Countess Rarity. Where’s yer coat of arms?” “Excuse me, friend,” Whitehorn said, leaning into view. “I know you’re just doing your job, but we’d quite like to see the Duke before he sits for dinner.” The guard blinked. “Ah, Whitehorn, sir.” He dipped his head. “The Duke didn’t tell me he was expecting company.” Whitehorn offered a small smile and nod. “That’s quite alright. We won’t be too long, and I believe Duke Titus would quite enjoy making the Countess’ acquaintance.” He pulled a couple bits out of his vest pocket. “Apologies for the inconvenience.” The guard accepted the bits without protest. “Not a problem, sir. Just be sure ye don’t make any trouble.” He stepped back, gesturing towards his partner. The pegasus mare waved the carriage crew on with a nod of her head, and it rocked into motion once more. “Bye bye, Grouchy Nose!” Pinkie said as she bounced along beside the crew. “Don’t be a stranger!” Rarity caught the guard rolling her eyes as they pulled away. She wrinkled her nose at the way the guard’s gun barrel continued tracking them. “Is that really necessary?” “Baronlands are not as… civil, let’s say, in certain ways,” Whitehorn said with a shrug. “The nobility are somewhat known for their unrestrained notions about property and its ownership, and it’s quite difficult for anyone to police such large swathes of land.” Rarity turned to him, a concerned frown on her face. “Is there a crime problem, you mean?” Whitehorn let out a small chuckle. “Well, yes, the unwary traveler can sometimes find themselves having to choose between their bits or their life. But I was referring more to the skirmishes the barons get into among themselves. Altalusia has been enjoying a period of relative peace for the past couple years, but old habits die hard.” “Goodness.” Rarity raised a hoof to her chest. “I hope Ana will be okay.” The refugee mare had been quick to go her own way once they’d made landfall, speaking of her eagerness to reunite with her family. I barely even caught a glimpse of her in that dress. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Whitehorn said. “I’ve met thestrals before, and they have a talent for keeping out of danger.” Rarity grimaced. “I do hope you’re right, darling.” The path curved to the side, and as the carriage turned to follow it, their destination came square into view from Rarity’s window. The soon-setting sun painted the pale stone of Duke Titus’ manse a deep crimson. Two curved wings stretched out to either side of the main structure, hemming in a garden decorated with bushes trimmed to look like clouds and statues of soldiers in historic armor. The building itself was done in the old pegasus style, with ridged columns carved into the shape of heroically posed pegasi lining the wide front balcony. The three triangular faces of the roof had been carved into gold-trimmed reliefs depicting scenes of battle. Orange banners, bearing the same pike and shield emblem the guards had been wearing, were draped along the outer walls, proudly displaying what Rarity assumed was Duke Titus’ family crest. “What do you think, Countess?” Whitehorn asked. “Well, he certainly has a better eye for decoration than Mr. Rich,” Rarity said, taking in the flowery scent of the estate gardens. “An interesting architectural style, as well.” “Yes, Duke Titus is somewhat of a traditionalist.” Whitehorn took one last glance at his notepad before slipping it into a pocket on his vest. “The columns are actually carved in the likeness of past family dynasts. They’ve managed to acquire the labor of a Gifted sculptor at least once a generation for hundreds of years.” “How charming,” Rarity said as the carriage finally came to a stop. Whitehorn was quick to open his door, sliding out of his seat and turning to help Rarity down. “My Lady?” “Thank you, sir.” Rarity gave him a warm smile as she accepted the offered hoof. She lowered herself to the paved courtyard with all the genteel nobility she could muster, resisting the urge to stretch her limbs after the long carriage ride. You must be at your most refined, Rarity. You’re to speak with a Duke! Whitehorn dipped his head to the carriage crew, and the two stallions pulled away without a word. Pinkie Pie waved a hoof after them, loudly calling out, “Bye, guys! See you soon!” Rarity took just a moment to straighten out her cream and marshmallow dress and levitate a comb through her mane and tail. “Shall we go, dears?” She couldn’t help but crane her neck to look up at the pegasi carved into the six columns that lined the landing as she approached the stairs. They had to be two stories tall, at least. Each one leered down at her with the same stoic dignity, as if challenging her right to approach them. She shook the notion from her head, bringing her eyes to the path before her. A lady doesn’t get spooked by architecture. The sound of Rarity’s shoes against the polished stairs echoed off the walls as she crested the landing. Whitehorn followed a few steps behind her, as befitting of her rank, while the etiquette-oblivious Pinkie bounced along beside her. Rarity was just beginning to ponder how exactly she should knock on the heavy wooden doors when one of the gold handles twisted of its own accord. The door opened to reveal a thick-bodied pegasus stallion, his burnt orange coat partially hidden behind a loose silk gown embroidered with a pattern of silver and gold shields. A loose grey mane hung down around his sharp green eyes. “Oh, good evening!” Rarity said, dipping into an exquisitely performed curtsy. “Is Duke Titus available?” “We’re here to talk with him!” Pinkie added, waving a hoof in the air. “I’m Pinkie Pie!” The pegasus’ steely gaze focused first on Rarity, then Pinkie. His jaw worked side to side as she continued to wave at him. Finally his eyes came to rest on Whitehorn. He let out a gravelly groan. “Are ye back to pester me again already?” Rarity blinked. Is he just… ignoring me? If Whitehorn had taken any offense at the greeting, he didn’t show it. He responded with a courteous bow and a friendly smile. “I’m afraid circumstances have led me to tighten my schedule, Duke Titus.” Duke Titus let out an irritated huff. “Stew’s hot, Whitehorn, so let’s keep this quick. Why should I set aside a relaxing afternoon to entertain ye?” Whitehorn gestured with one hoof towards Rarity. “Have you been following news from central Equestria?” The Duke snorted, eyeing Rarity with a disinterested gaze. “Ye know I don’t care fer that gossiping drivel.” Rarity gave him one of her best smiles, but he remained unfazed. “So then you haven’t heard the story of Countess Rarity?” Whitehorn asked. “The Last Lady of Old Equestria?” Oh, heavens. That does have a flair to it, doesn’t it? Again Rarity curtsied, putting all the regality she could into the little motion. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Lord.” She gestured with a hoof to Pinkie, who seemed determined to keep waving until somepony acknowledged her. “This is my—mm. My hoofmaiden, Miss Pinkie Pie.” “Hoofmaiden?” Pinkie echoed. Rarity shot her a meaningful glance, catching the other mare’s eye. “Of course, darling.” Pinkie’s smile hesitated for a moment before returning. “Yepper, that’s me! The hoovesiest!” “Uh huh.” Duke Titus didn’t arch a brow, but Rarity could hear the thought in his voice. “I’ve never heard of a Countess Rarity, let alone a Last Lady.” “It’s a recent development,” Whitehorn said. “Rather miraculous, as well. I’m certain you’ll be quite interested in the tale, perhaps over that stew?” Duke Titus let out a noncommittal grunt. At length he stepped aside, holding his door open. “Fine. But ye’d better not make a habit of showing up unannounced with strange mares.” “Of course not.” Whitehorn beckoned to Rarity and Pinkie before walking through the open door. Rarity went to follow, but the ever energetic Pinkie beat her to it, bouncing across the threshold and forcing Rarity to enter last in a grievous breach of proper decorum for a noble lady and her maiden. Rarity didn’t let her annoyance show, instead quickening her pace to catch up to Whitehorn. She had to remember that Pinkie wasn’t actually her hoofmaiden. Though I doubt she’d behave much better even if she was. Duke Titus took his place at the front of the group, leading them across an open foyer, beneath a mezzanine decorated with hanging pike-and-shield banners, and left down a wide hall that ran the length of the mansion. His estate wasn’t as over-decorated as Crazy Rich’s, leaning more towards the tasteful philosophy of less being more. Small columns and stands bearing pegasus-styled suits of armor in varying designs took turns filling the space between the doors. Charming designs, Rarity thought. She could easily imagine Rainbow Dash prancing about in one, boasting about her speed and strength. An idea for a dress came to her, and she filed it away for when she finally reunited with her other friends. A servant in plain orange garb waited at the end of the hall, holding the door open, and Duke Titus led the group past him without even a nod of acknowledgment. “Take whichever seats ye wish. My son is out speaking with the peasants.” Rarity’s ear flicked in surprise at the word. “Peasants, darling?” “Do ye not have them, Countess?” Duke Titus shuffled his wings as he settled down on a cushion at the head of the table. A deep bowl of stew had been left unattended at the seat, giving off a scent of onion and carrot, while a plate of fried yam and roasted asparagus waited to the side. “Ye’re not one of those gibbering city nobles, are ye?” “Not yet, she isn’t!” Pinkie declared, entering the dining room last. “Heh. Well, that’s a plus fer ye,” Duke Titus said, something akin to a smile pulling at his face for a brief moment. “Well, sit down, then. Let’s hear about this so-called Last Lady.” Rarity blinked. She had just been processing her opinion on the use of the word ‘peasant’ when her thoughts were interrupted by the Duke’s casual insult to the lifestyle she had dreamed of for all of her adult life. She was still trying to decide whether it was worth taking offense at Pinkie’s words when Whitehorn cleared his throat, drawing her attention. He and Pinkie were already sitting on cloud-shaped orange cushions opposite the Duke. “My Lady?” “Ah, yes.” Rarity sat down next to Pinkie, running a hoof through her mane. “To be quite honest, I’m not even sure where to begin,” she said, looking to Whitehorn. He had told her to let him handle the introductions, and she was more than willing to cooperate. He knew these social waters far better than she did. Whitehorn let out a practiced chuckle. “Well, perhaps I can assist in that regard. Tell me, my Lord, how familiar are you with Old Equestria?” “Get to it, Whitehorn,” Duke Titus said. He paused to dip his muzzle into his bowl for an uncouth bite of stew. He at least had enough manners to swallow before continuing. “Just tell me who this mare is ‘n why I should care.” Whitehorn shrugged. “Well, she and her hoofmaiden here are two of the Elements of Harmony, and the other four are on Rich’s salvage ship.” If Duke Titus was surprised by this announcement, he didn’t show it. He did, however, take the time to pull his mouth away from the fried yam held in his feathers and level a narrow-eyed gaze on the other side of the table. “Proof.” Rarity raised a hoof and gave it a dainty wave. “If I may?” He nodded. “Go on.” The tinkling of magic drifted across the room as Rarity lit her horn. She didn’t think the Duke was the sort of stallion to be left slack-jawed at the spontaneous assembly of a dress, but a display of her telekinetic skills should be sufficient. Looking around the room, she embraced a pair of armor sets in her magic, and after a moment to familiarize herself with them, began to dance them around the table in synchronized step. Duke Titus barely spared a glance for the pirouetting armor. “Is that all ye have for me, lass? Ye know I have a few Gifted in my service already, don’t ye?” He picked up a brass goblet in one hoof and raised it to his lips. “Not enough for you?” Rarity pushed more power into her horn, extending her magical grasp further. Isn’t levitation supposed to be something special in this age? More armor glowed with the pale blue of her magic. Orange tapestries flung themselves from the walls and tied themselves around the dancers with elaborate knots. Pinkie Pie leapt up with a cheer and joined the throng, grabbing a set of magically weightless armor and twirling it around her. The room was alive with motion, the sparkling light of magic playing across the cloudscape murals painted onto the walls. Rarity turned to Duke Titus with a broad smile, angling her face so that the sweat dripped down on the side of her face he couldn’t see. Armor was technically clothes, but she was used to clothes made of fabric, not heavy iron and steel. She took deep breaths, ignoring the ache at the base of her horn. Titus waved a hoof, and Rarity grit her teeth as she gently set her armored dancers down on the floor. “Ye’re a powerful Gifted, lass, but that doesn’t make ye a noble, let alone a character of legend.” He turned to Pinkie, who was leaning against a suit of armor with one metal hoof draped over her. “And what about ye?” “I’m Pinkie Pie!” the mare said. “I throw the greatest parties in Equestria!” “Uh huh.” Duke Titus watched her recline against his armor for a few moments before turning back to Rarity. “I hope ye can put all these back where they were.” “Oh, certainly, darling!” Rarity said. She ignored her horn’s complaints as she sent her magic forth again, returning each set of armor back to its respective place, untying the knots in the tapestries and straightening any wrinkles before hanging them up once more. She did make a few tiny adjustments to their distribution, but the room looked better that way anyway. She pulled a small fabric out with a hoof and used it to dab the dampness away from her brow. “Thank ye.” Titus took another sip from his goblet and turned to Whitehorn. “So ye’re back to talk to me about yer Gifted Table idea, I’m guessing.” Whitehorn nodded. “You guess correct, my Lord.” “And what’s happened that has ye thinking I’ve changed my mind?” Titus asked. “It’s the circumstances that have changed,” Whitehorn said, leaning forwards and sliding into a conversational tone. “I’m sure you’ve heard about Marewick falling, and Fellis Island only days later. We were there for it, and every ship we took to get here had refugees aboard. The problem isn’t going away.” “It was terrible,” Pinkie added. She slumped down onto a cushion, looking down. Rarity frowned as her mane began to sag. “There were so many ponies—everywhere.” Duke Titus shrugged. “Two islands isn’t a pattern yet, Whitehorn, ‘n the situation in Parliament is as useless as it’ll ever be. I don’t need to make more enemies than I already have by trying to start some ridiculous revolution.” He paused, taking a bite out of his asparagus and swallowing. “I doubt yer plan would resolve the matter either way. Ye’d be better off throwing bits at the merchant princes.” Rarity pursed her lips. Beneath the table, her tail flicked side to side at the Duke’s casual dismissal of the deaths of thousands of ponies. It was clear to her already that appealing to the greater good would accomplish little here. She hadn’t accompanied Whitehorn here just to sit idly by while he was rebuffed yet again. She stood up, tossing her mane to draw the Duke’s attention. “Come now, darling. We’ve come all this way.” Rarity stalked around the table, her smile widening as she drew closer to him. “I can tell a generous soul when I see one, you know. Surely it wouldn’t be so much trouble to throw in a few good words for us?” Duke Titus frowned up at her. She fluttered her eyelashes at him. He turned to Whitehorn. “Do ye really think a Gifted harlot is all it’ll take for ye to change my mind?” Rarity nearly choked. “Hrk—tch, what?” she wailed. “Harlot?” “Don’t ye try to hide it,” Duke Titus said, glancing her way. “I know how yer type works.” Rarity’s cheeks flushed hot. A harlot? I never! She was still spluttering, struggling to come to terms with the insult, when the sound of the door opening came from behind her. “Father?” a new, younger voice called. “I didn’t know we were having guests.” Duke Titus looked past Rarity, towards the speaker. “Neither did I, lad. Come ‘n eat.” Rarity took a deep breath, forcing herself to smile as she turned in place. A young pegasus stallion was closing the door behind him, an embroidered cloak covering all of him from the neck down except for his dusty brown feathers. A silver stripe ran down his charcoal mane, following the loose ponytail he wore it in down to his shoulders. He turned to face the table, and his jaw went slack as his grey eyes met hers. “Afternoon, darling,” Rarity said, dipping her head. She decided not to comment on the way he stared at her. “I hope you don’t mind if we were discussing some business with your oh-so-lovely father.” The stallion’s mouth closed and opened a few times before he found his voice. “Oh, uh, no! I don’t mind, not at all.” Rarity decided to take the moment to return to her seat as he approached the table. When she turned to face the Duke again, his son was whispering something into his ear. “Mm. I see,” the Duke said. “Thank ye, Pontius. Take a seat, lad.” Pontius nodded, sitting on a cushion next to his father. A pegasus servant entered the room, balancing more stew and side dishes on her splayed out feathers. Pontius continued to stare at Rarity as his food was served. Once the servant was done, Duke Titus beckoned to her and whispered something into her ear. She nodded before slipping out of the room once more. “Well,” Whitehorn began, standing up. “I suppose it was foolish of me to expect you to change your mind, my Lord.” “That’s never stopped ye before,” Duke Titus said. He gestured with a hoof. “Why don’t ye three spend the night? I’ve had some rooms prepared.” “Oh, are you sure it won’t be too much trouble?” Rarity asked with mock concern. “I wouldn’t want you worrying about a harlot like myself corrupting your bedsheets.” “Ah, give it a rest.” Duke Titus waved a hoof. “Ye know what ye were doing. I just called ye out on it." Whitehorn frowned, cocking his head. “You haven’t even offered us food. I believe it’s clear that you’re not interested in my proposition.” Duke Titus shrugged. “My staff didn’t cook dinner for five, but that can be remedied.” He gave Pontius a hearty slap on the shoulder with a wing and turned to Rarity. “My son here has taken a liking in ye, Countess. Why don’t we revisit this conversation in the morning?” Rarity raised a hoof to her chest, feigning innocence. “Moi? Oh, goodness.” It had been painfully obvious, of course. The young stallion still seemed to be having difficulty keeping his eyes off of her, though they did sometimes flick to Pinkie for a few moments. “I suppose I can look past your vulgar comment. What do you think, Pinkie?” Pinkie Pie looked up from the table, shaking her head as if trying to dislodge something. “Uh, yeah. I agree with you, Rarity.” Rarity wrinkled her nose, but said nothing. She would have to talk to Pinkie about her mood swings. Not just now, however. She turned to Whitehorn. “Do you think you could spare the time, darling?” Whitehorn responded with a hesitant smile. “Well, I won’t turn down making another attempt tomorrow. I do hope you won’t come to regret it, though.” “Oh, no,” Duke Titus said, offering the first full smile Rarity had seen of his. “I don’t think I’ll regret it at all.” “Hey, Boss?” Gava stirred, poking her head up. The hammock hung still beneath her, lacking the comforting motion of a ship under way. “What’s up?” Drift Eye’s head poked past the partially open door of her cabin. “Messenger came up to the ship. Thaumagram for ya.” His hoof came into sight as he tossed a letter her way. “Thanks.” Gava snatched the letter out of the air as Drift Eye closed the door, leaving her alone once more. She flashed a talon out and sliced a neat gash down the edge, pulling out a short note. Six words traced a thin line along the top of the paper. “Waiting for you in Altalusia, sis.” Altalusia, huh? Gava had been there before. She’d caught her first fox in its woods. Whichever noble owned them had tried to catch her and punish her for stealing from him, so once she was done with the carcass she’d tossed its remains onto his mansion’s roof. Wonder if he’s still around. The sound of labor and metal sawing through wood was clearly audible even through the walls of her cabin. The Roc’s Screech still hadn’t fully recovered from the beating it had received at the hooves of that purple witch, but it was nearly there. Gava tilted her head to eye the map hanging from one of her walls. A fast ship like the Screech could make it to Altalusia in just a few days. But it wasn’t time to set out. She had to be patient until the repairs were finished. Tomorrow, most likely. Maybe she’d walk around with some chicken blood on her beak in the morning to put the speed of fear into the workers. For now, Gava tossed the note aside, rolled over, and closed her eyes once more. She would tell Topgallant to chart a course when she got up. Memories and plans drifted through her head. That witch wouldn’t see her coming this time.