//------------------------------//
// Chapter 56: The New Equestrians 
// Story: When the Everfree Burns 
// by SpiritDutch 
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“Hear ye! Hear ye! A new proclamation from the office of the honorable Lady Regent!”

Even in normal times, a crier standing in the center of the Canterlot Castle plaza and shouting announcements was a rare occasion. The creatures of imperial politics were insular and disdainful of the mob, preferring to leave civic announcements to the network of temples, bureaucrats, guards, and clubs that formed Canterlot’s patchwork administration.  When criers did take the proverbial stage, it was almost always at the behest of one faction airing the dirty laundry of another, and so the opening bars of the crier’s shouts was less a respectful call for attention, and more a door call for imminent hilarity and ridiculing.

But this was not normal times. This was far from normal times. When the ponies heard the portly, unsightly crier say ‘the honorable Lady Regent’, they knew the malaise since the Eternal Night was about to end.

“Hear ye!” The crier continued to the gathering crowd, mostly ponies who had been shopping or selling at the stalls ringing the plaza. “The honorable Lady Regent, Twilight Velvet, has a direct message to the ponies of fair Canterlot, commoner and noble alike. The imperial government has been found in dereliction of its duties to the ponies of Canterlot. For the promotion of peace and the general welfare in the absance of princess's authority, the Lady Regent, Twilight Velvet of the house of Twilight-Bright, has assumed control with a junta of lords. It was they who stewarded Canterlot during its darkest hour, and so they will steward during the day-  Change has come, and no pony shall be able to plead ignorance. The city of all of us, Canterlot the great, shall be receiving reform long overdue.”


Reform. That was a dreadful word in the ears of the gathered crowd, often used by upstarts in the imperial administration to signal cutting dole, tighter sumptuary laws, or the fleeting implementation of the latest fad in administrative art. However the ponies heard something different in how the crier said it. By his inflection they detected an amused, perhaps even jubilant buildup. They stopped their idle murmuring, and listened.

“Canterlot shall no longer be ruled by decree, an imperial domain neglected by her highness’s representatives. Canterlot shall be ruled by Canterlot, a body of ponies, a state, by and for itself.”

The ponies froze. What did that mean? A mayor? A governor?
The crier soon answered these questions.


“Effective immediately, all ponies ruling and serving in the name of the empire within the city walls must come to the office of the Lady Regent for reconfirmation and reassignment. Effective immediately, all civic associations, clubs, and councils will be suspended, and may not reassemble until the formation of an urban commission which will promulgate the new lawbook of Canterlot. Effective immediately, all guilds, professional associations, and intellectual clubs must submit papers of purpose to the office of the Lady Regent for confirmation and certification. Retroactive to the eve of the Summer Sun, that darkest hour of the Eternal Night, the Estates of Equestria shall be recognized as having been dissolved, for eventual re-conveinment under new laws: All courts of the empire must submit themselves to the office of the Lady Regent.”

Any one of these reforms would have been riotous in normal times. These were not normal times.
And then, the coup.


“For the promotion of peace and the general welfare, and to assure the ponies that hers is a rule by and for Canterlot, a new councular body will be convened. This Council of the Ponies will be presided by an impartial judge, and hold court HERE, on the steps of Canterlot Castle.
“This court shall prosecute the dismemberment of the old administration, recognizing both its dereliction and de-facto collapse. Thereafter a new order will be organized...” The crier paused, relishing the anticipation. “For the judgement of all ponies who were charged as criminal during the Eternal Night, under the auspices of laws both old and new!
“Begining tomorrow, here on the steps of Canterlot Castle, the revolutionary conspiracy of the City Guard, Princess Cadenza in absentia, and the printer Hot Take, shall be judged by the Canterlot Court. Hear ye!”


The crier fell silent.
One of the market goers shifted her pipe from one side of her mouth to the other.  “That’s all nice, but when will we be getting shipments of grain again?!”
A few others laughed.



At one end of the plaza, a pair of languishing noble scions were kicked back by a stall, absorbing the crier’s announcement.

“That sounded like a load of bull!” One of the nobles growled. “Call it what you want, but that ‘council of ponies’ sounds like a bloody parliment! Next thing you know, that Velvet'll chain a constitution around us!”

“Especially with the Estates dissolved for who knows how long.” The other noble grunted. “Come on. We’ve got to let Lady Upper Crust know.”



On the opposite side of the plaza, a group of ponies of all tribes assembled around a cafe table watched the nobles disappear down a side street.

“Strange tidings, comrades.” One of the ponies mumbled. “Lady Velvet announces a ‘council of ponies’ at the same time she says she is prosecuting our brothers.”

“She is trying to make Canterlot believe they are agents of counter-revolution.” One of the mares shook her head. “It will be just the same as the imperial administration.”

One of the older stallions at the cafe table, an earth pony with a bushy white beard, shook his head. “I remain optimistic comrades. The crier said they would be tried, not condemned.”

“Those words are virtually synonymous in this city for a commoner.” The mare scoffed.

“Under old rules.” The old earth stallion said, brow creasing. “But if this ‘council of ponies’ is remotely responsive to the popular will, we can make sure we are never abused again.”

The other ponies around the table mulled over this for a while.
“I’ll mobilize the pegasus bund. You get your lads.” The mare finally said. Others nodded in agreement.

“We will let the new regime know we won’t take their whipping silently.” The old stallion concurred. "Indeed, I may go pay the lady regent a visit tomorrow. If we are to be whipped, we may as well... profit off of it."

That drew sensible laughter.
On that note, the ponies at the cafe table slipped away.









When Upper Crust arrived on the scene outside the Black Horn Council hall a dozen young unicorn nobles were already waiting. Some were brandishing weapons, mostly heirloom swords and assorted knicknacks.

“Let’s buckin'…  burst in there right now and show Velvet what we REALLY think.” One of the noble stallions brandished his club towards the door. “We’re not going to let these tyrants to step on our rights any more!”  This sentiment drew some mild agreement from the other nobles.

“Uhh…” Upper Crust blinked. She saw some ponies, probably secretaries, peeking out of the upper floor windows of the council hall. “While we may have our grievances, overthrowing the provisional government strikes me as the wrong move as such. We are barely organized.”

“What’s the score then?” One of Upper Crust’s usual boosters asked.

“Well, I think I should go in with a couple of you, unarmed, and let Velvet know what we want.” Upper Crust said. “She knows we mean business. She won’t be able to turn us down.”

A few nobles without weapons stepped forwards. But one of the agitators didn’t seem convinced. “What do we want though?”

Upper Crust shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we want…  our rights respected.”

That gained a hearty ‘HURRAH’ from the crowd.

Upper Crust nodded appreciatively. “And, um, we want… respect.”

Another ‘HURRAH’ from the nobles.


Grinning, Upper Crust and four of the disarmed nobles pushed open the council hall door. The secretaries retreated from the gang, offering half-hearted objections as they barged into Twilight Velvet’s office.

Night Light sitting behind the desk, looked up from the dossier he was inspecting. “Hello there. Can I help you?”

The nobles looked amongst themselves, shrugged, and pushed Upper Crust forward.

“Hello again, um, Lord Night Light.” Upper Crust cleared her throat. “Are you aware not half-an-hour ago, an outrageous spectacle took place in Canterlot Castle plaza?!”

“Oh? Well let's not get ahead of ourselves. It’s been very busy here, Lady Crust. Hello to you too, by the way." Night Light shuffled his papers a bit. "Would you like to make an appointment?” He asked.


Upper Crust suddenly felt very self-conscious. Laying out her demands against an essentially powerless go-between was silly on the face of it.  The wind was taken from her sails instantly. “Where is Lady Velvet? We must speak immediately.”

“In the city responding to threat reports I am not privy to.” Night Light said with a shrug. “You may search for her if you wish. I believe her to be somewhere in the Inner City.” 

The idea of wandering the labyrinthine Inner City, rubbing up against the hordes of commoners, did not much appeal to the nobles and they visibly wilted. Upper Crust looked back to her compatriots for advice and they shook their head.
Undaunted, she decided to go on her planned harangue anyway. “Lord Night Light, you must surely be aware of your lady wife’s reform plans.”

“Yes, which is why I am busy, and why I would recommend you make an appointment and come back later.” Night Light sighed. “I don’t have the time to discuss political philosophy in detail.”

“Political philosophy? No! We’re talking rights!” Upper Crust harrumphed. “The aforementioned spectacle at the castle was nothing less than the PUBLIC announcement of a monumental reform schedule.”

“Yes, and?”

“The wellborn of Canterlot were not consulted, or even informed of this plan!”


“We have numerous nobles in our circle, my lady.” Night Light said with a tinge of amusement. “I hope you are not implying I am not of noble birth, my lady.”

“I would imply you are putting your own gain over that of over our class generally.” Upper Crust said. “Go back to your accusation about political philosophy if you wish, but you are now in power over us. That makes you an agent of governance and not of nobility. It is not the nature of your nobility that I am concerned for, but that of your governance!”


Night Light sat back in his chair. “You speak well Lady Crust.”

“Uh, thank you.” Upper Crust curtsied shallowly.

“No doubt you received speaking and language lessons, benefit of high status and wealth.” Night Light said, more conversationally than the subject would demand. “In general, I find that idle wealth well takes care of themselves, and do not need our help or special attention.”

Upper Crust’s eyes bulged. What Night Light just said was nothing less than an open confession of equal treatment under the law! “Sir! You would ignore the wellborne?! For what?! To what end?!”

“To stabilize the realm and society? I am not sure you have noticed, but the empress and her empire have just died. That has left many questions up in the air, and bearing them down gently is the primary concern of Lady Velvet’s junta. Hence the reforms.” Night Light said.  “This is not a commoner plot, nor a tyrannical power play.”

Upper Crust brooded over her words for a while.
“Of the former I am assured, considering the imminent trial of the revolutionary conspirators. That was a contentious point between us, I’ll here admit.” Upper Crust cleared her throat. “But the Estates dissolved until some nebulous date? The clubs suspended? From Celestia the First, the nobility has been the empress’s partner in Canterlot. We see no precedent for the unilateral actions of Lady Velvet and her junta, nor any token of legitimacy, save her rescue of the city from the revolutionaries.”

Night Light beckoned her forward. “Repeat that last part again please.”

“Umm, her rescue of the city from the revolutionaries.” Upper Crust said.

“There it is, my lady.” Night Light gave an open shrug. “Is that not enough? Where would the nobles be if the mob owned the streets right now? Not in a position to protest perceived shabby treatment. I do not want to read ungratefulness out of your words, but I detect it nonetheless.”

“My lord, do not so scorn me with hypotheticals.” Upper Crust huffed. “The city is safe from the mob, but unicorns do not swap one bad choice for another. We achieve perfection in all circumstances.”

“You’re achieving wasting my time.” Night Light said under his breath. He continued at a normal volume. “In all things we seek perfection but fall short, obviously. The sage Clover said 'Perfection is the Ideal, not the Empirical'. But all things considered, is there somepony else you had in mind to guide this city out of the hooves of the chaos the Eternal Night was set on bringing down on us?”


“Princess Cadenza, for one.” Upper Crust could not stifle a wry smirk as she said this. The alicorn princess, not only a former commoner, but born a peasant of the lowest and humblest stock, could not be spoken by the Canterlot aristocracy without their knowing glances and devious winks. She was, in their lexicon, the antonym of legitimate, for the nobles loathed their onetime darling Cadence.

Night Light tapped his hoof, thinking. “You know I can neither promise or deliver on anything we agree on, but if you lay out your other grievances, beside the vague desire for privilege, I will talk to my wife about them when I see her.”

Upper Crust was nettled by his dismissiveness, but obliged. “Firstly the proposed trial in absentia, even if Princess Cadenza is the defendant, is an appalling transgression. What is to say other ponies wouldn’t be similarly tried?”

“Is this a request to postpone the trail, or drop charges?” Night Light asked.

It was Upper Crust’s turn to demure. “Well… You well know getting Cadenza out of the picture has been a long term project for the aristocracy. If you can promise restrictions on trails in absentia, we will allow, and perhaps even support the censure of Princess Cadenza.”

“Like I said, I can’t promise anything.” Night Light leaned forward. “But I think we can look forward to cooperation on this front.”

The band of nobles congratulated themselves on the concession they’d extracted. Night Light just smiled knowingly.


“Ahem, second, the ‘council of ponies’. It is not being held in Canterlot Castle, as I noted. It is being held under Canterlot Castle, in the plaza for all to attend and behold. This is obviously inviting commoner ruckus.” Upper Crust said. “How does this Council of Ponies fit into your reform scheme, and how can you protect it from commoner hijacking?”

“Again, ma’am, I am not Twilight Velvet, barely even her proxy in this talk. It is not my scheme.” Night Light reiterated. “As for the Council of Ponies, Lady Velvet holds that plan close to her chest and I am not privy to everything.”

Upper Crust waited expectantly.

“Though I do know how it may be organized to protect your interests, but it will need your active participation.” Night Light said. “How well did your speaking lessons prepare you for crowds?”


Upper Crust was intrigued. She was not the most personable pony: That credit would have gone to her late tag-team partner Jet Set, victim of the massacre of the Estates. But she had absolute conviction in the virtue of her beliefs, and was sure the masses would see it her way if they did not already.  She just had to find the right pony to voice those complaints eloquently.

She nodded to Night Light. “What can you give us?”

“No preferential treatment in the council of ponies, officially. The rules on speaking and voting may be abused to your benefit, if you were so inclined.” Night Light nodded.

“And the crowds in the plaza? Nobles will be given preferential placement?”

Night Light acted like that was a novel innovation. “I will see to it, my lady.”


“Good. Good.” Upper Crust glanced to her noble companions and they seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Then the last demand pertains to protection. Are your new militias trustworthy?”

“I don’t know what you’re asking.” Night Light said.

Upper Crust cleared her throat. “The new militias roaming the streets, keeping ‘law and order’ are disproportionately raised from the middle classes. I talked to some, and they all seemed to be shopkeepers or lawyers. Lord Light, the streets of Canterlot are frightening enough without armed lawyers running around!”

“They have all served time in the city guard, which if you did not know, is compulsory for property-owning commoners. They are professional and sworn to the public good.” Night Light said.

“I’m not concerned about their vows. I’m concerned about how they interpret their vows. The merchants and urban professionals have been hungering after our rights for decades. If they have guns, and we do not, how can you be sure they won’t overthrow us?”

“Overthrow us and do what?” Night Light asked.

“Establish a Free City, or some such rubbish! The middle classes have always been devilishly organized, with their guilds and clubs.”

Night Light smiled. “Why is why we have put all guilds under central control. Did you forget that part?”

“No. I didn’t.” Upper Crust hummed. “You must admit, this central control does look tyrannical.”

“No, I don’t. We are working to control the very ponies you are paranoid about, and nothing more.” Night Light said with a little laugh. “Why are you so insistent on reading devious intent in simple procedure?”

Upper Crust was not convinced. “You say I have nothing to be concerned about with the militias. Well then, what about the strange knights that have appeared in our midst? The ones with the purple cloaks? They give no answers and provide no names.”

“That is called professionalism, my lady.”

“That anonymity will be dangerous if it means they can oppress us without repercussion.” Upper Crust narrowed her gaze.

Night Light shook his head. “That anonymity will protect them from revenge, after their service to the law. You will come to understand soon.”


“I’m sure I will.” Upper Crust was annoyed by his tone, but had to give it to the stallion that he was well prepared for her arguments.  “We shall be seeing you tomorrow then, Lord Night Light.”

“Bon chance.” Night Light waved to their back as they filed out the office. “On the secretary’s desk is a printed copy of the announcement. They are due to be posted in markets about town. Take one, if you’d like.”

“Ah yes, I was planning to ask.” Upper Crust mumbled, nodding to the secretary they had pushed aside earlier and accepted a poster. Her eyes scanned down the page, to a small line at the very bottom. “Printed by messir Hot Take of the Fascicle Canterlot Printing House…  That is the printer pony with charges against them.” She looked back to Night Light. “How could you have a pony print their own court appearance?”

Night Light smiled. “Sometimes, the best deals are teased out by threat. It would help you to remember that.”

As soon as the door swung closed, his soft laughter could be heard.



Upper Crust exited the former Blackhorn Council hall. The nobles who’d waited outside looked to her.
“Velvet wasn’t there, so I talked to Lord Night Light.”

Some of the nobles groaned. “What’s the point then?”

“He was sympathetic to several of our demands. I think we can look forward to his cooperation.” Upper Crust said.

“But he’s not the one in charge! Velvet is!” One of the original agitators said. “And I thought you went in to make demands, not get ‘cooperation’!”

“Better Lady Velvet in charge than the commoners.” One of the other nobles shivered. “We came perilously close to revolution. Lord Jet Set, Celestia rest his soul, died to help stop them. We need to boost the junta to protect ourselves, and they need us too. Cooperation is the only way we both survive.”

“Some are saying we’re still on the brink, and we have no idea how many revolutionary sympathizers linger in the city guard.” Another noble said.

“Twilight Velvet is coming after our rights. We have to defeat her before we can even begin to worry about the revolutionaries!” The agitator said.

“And that doesn’t factor in the bourgies. Who knows which side they’ll take.”


“Enough! We can’t afford to be fighting right now, especially not over something as trivial as ranking threats. They’re ALL threats, and we need to be vigilant against all of them.” Upper Crust rumbled.  “As for Lady Velvet…  She is like us, but she isn’t one of us.  We have an opportunity to show her up in front of the entire city tomorrow. We will let Canterlot know it is US who can lead the ponies of this city, not her.”

“Going to have a run at her? Looking for ‘Lady Regent Upper Crust’? Empress Upper Crust?” The agitator laughed.

“Maybe I will.” Upper Crust snorted. “Any of the rest of you feel up to the challenge?”

A few of the nobles scions murmured amongst themselves. They were young and hot-headed, but they recognized Upper Crust’s superior experience.

“Go home and rest your throat. We’re going to be doing plenty of shouting tomorrow. Meanwhile...” Upper Crust tapped the announcement poster. “We need to decide what words will rouse Canterlot back to its rightful rulers.”



While the nobles dispersed, a couple of commoners watched from across the street. They looked between Upper Crust and the Black Horn Council Hall, before they slipped back into the nearest alley.






The Next Day



Thundering echoes rolled down the narrow hall of the Solar Monastery, inducing the timid monks to cower in their cells. The pony at the front door was insistent though, continuing to knock, and after a while one of the brothers made his way to the foyer and unlatched the portal.


Sel Lech’s patience paid off as the monastery door cracked open. He stood stoically as the monk looked him and his small squad of knights up and down. The idea of an armed entourage coming to the monastery would have been unthinkable in normal times.
There was the despicable qualification again, 'in normal times'. As far as Sel Lech was concerned, normal was dead forever.

“Are you from Canterlot?” The monk asked nervously.

“There aren’t many other places I could be from.” Sel said wryly.
Hundreds of meters down the Mountain, the city of Canterlot was just beginning to wake up, the early morning sunlight rising above the Unicorn Range to the west.

The monk behind the door sighed and opened it fully. I wasn’t like he could resist soldiers if they were determined to get in.
Brother Springwise was a slightly rotund unicorn, with a white coat and shaved indigo mane. He had a titled, clumsy demeanor and spoke slowly and sparingly, giving many the impression that he was slow. He was relatively confident in his own intelligence except for the occasions that Lady Twilight Sparkle visited the monastery library for new books, at which point he ceded the floor to Manered.
“I mean to ask if you’re from the Canterlot government.”

“I’m Lord Sabonord, Captain of the new Guard.”

“New Guard? A... royal guard” That did not sound right to Springwise.

Sel smiled. “Sorry, I misspoke. Captain of the new City Guard.” Sel Lech gestured to one of the knights, and the designated pony passed him a scroll. “As you may know, the Unicorn Prelate died during the revolutionaries’ cowardly massacre of the Estates. Lady Regent Twilight Velvet has put out the feelers for a replacement.”

“Twilight…  Velvet?” Springwise blinked. “Umm, the monastery has been secluded to itself since the night. The goings on down below-”

“The goings on down below are your concern, whether you like it or not.” Sel said sharply. He held out the scroll for Springwise to take. “You monks may confer amongst yourselves, but you will supply a new Unicorn Prelate within the hour. Send him or her to the Canterlot Castle plaza promptly. Very promptly. Council is to begin at 8:00, and the prelate will preside as judge.”


“This is beyond the pale.” Springwise muttered, flustered. “The empire never meddles in ecclesiastical affairs.”

“We aren’t asking much, but this is not an equal relationship anymore.” Sel said darkly. He lobbed the scroll onto Springwise’s snout. “Send a prelate, or your properties will be put under direct control of the city. Read that carefully friend, and share with your brothers. As I said, this is the only warning before the law descends over you. Have a good day, brother.”

With a nod to his entourage, Sel Lech led the way down the mountain path down to Canterlot.







The day continued ominously. Everypony’s eyes were drawn to the plaza before Canterlot Castle, wondering with concern or anticipation for the first day of the new political order. 

The ponies with nothing better to do showed up first, just as the sun rose above the city walls: Indolent unemployed, noble youths, seekers of ill fortune, and the ponies who worked around the castle plaza.  A cadre of militia and purple-clad knights arrived at midmorning, and began constructing a platform at the Castle’s base, to make the sheer marble wall the back of a grand stage.

Sel Lech was the first of the inner circle to arrive. He felt a bit winded from the hike up and down the Mountain to the solar monastery, but otherwise eager to begin.  He counted the minutes as he oversaw the furnishing of the stage. Chairs, podiums, purple banners, and ledgers were put in their proper place in preparation for the others’ arrival.



Then the first bit of drama.
A mare was shouting at one of Velvet’s purple-clad knights. She was not, as was usually the case with such incidents, hurling abuse at him. Rather she was pleading with him, grabbing his hooves and trying to embrace him, though he kept pushing her away.

Sel crossed the plaza to the shouting mare, under the amused gazes of the onlookers. “What’s going on here?” He asked.

“Colour! Colour!” The mare was wailing. “He doesn’t recognize me! He doesn’t even hear my name!”

The purple-clad knight beckoned Sel closer. “Captain, this mare seems to think-”

“I’d know my husband. I’d know him anywhere.” The mare insisted, poking the knight’s breastplate. “He’s been missing since the long night. Him and all the ponies in old town hospital disappeared, and-” She trailed off into choked whimpers. She slowly turned to Sel, shivering in fear. “What’s he doing in that armor? Gods’ sake, he’s a dye maker, not a soldier.”

Sel shrugged. “I only know he’s serving his city now.”

The mare was totally silent for several minutes, finally whispering out a request. “Please give him back to me.”


Sel scratched his nose. “As in what? Tie him up with a bow? He's here for the taking."

"He doesn't recognize me. Oh merciful gods, what happened in that hospital." The mare said. "We all thought... the little ones thought he was dead." Her eyes began to tear up.

Sel closed his eyes. He wished he could close his heart to pity, like Velvet did. He felt so weak in the face of it. "You’d better hope you’re not lying mis.”

The mare blinked. “L- Lie? I-”

Sel interrupted her, nudging the knight. “Take this this mare’s name and address. You’ll quarter in her house until further notice.”

“Yes captain.” The knight nodded.

“Give her what portion of your wage she asks for, accepting what you need for your personal maintenance.” Sel continued. “Learn her name, and be kind. Learn your name too.” He sighed and shook his head. "She may be your wife for goodness sake. Reconnect, or something."

“Of course captain.” The knight saluted. He turned to the mare. “Mis, what did you say my name was again?”



Sel didn't stick around. He promptly returned to see the finishing touches put on the stage.
The other purple knights watched their comrade converse with his wife for a while, then politely disengage. The poor mare was utterly confused, and sat in place just watching her husband stand guard on the plaza corner.

Sel found it morosely amusing. Like the other knights, the husband was one of the unfortunate ponies nabbed by Astral Nacre and mutilated. It was a miracle they could be repurposed into their present form, but good soldiers were barely above zombies so perhaps it was not so surprising. What was surprising was that the mare had recognized what she thought was her husband. All Astral’s unfortunate experiments were a mix-and-match of victims. The knight’s face might have been recognizable to his wife, but his legs or flank might well have been recognizable by other spouses.
What a morose mess indeed. Velvet claimed Astral could return the knights to full sentience once she gained more power, but Sel suspected that was just talk. If the knights became cognizant of the nature of their own existence, surely they would try to destroy themselves or Velvet.


The morning wore on. The stage was fully furnished- It was broken into two tiers, with seven seats on the upper tier, and about twenty seats on the lower tier.  The workers then went about erecting barriers in the plaza to separate zones.


About an hour later, other ponies of the inner circle began to arrive.

Blueblood came with a few nobles, laughing and flirting, but they went quiet when they noticed Sel. Sel was not so polite to not capitalize on their discomfort. “Prince Blueblood! Could you come here for a moment? I’d like to have a word.”

Blueblood disengaged from his entourage, mounted the stage, and trotted to Sel. “Hello Sel. I haven’t seen you since you got out of the hospital.”

“We’ve both been busy.” Sel smiled. “Are you going to sit on the council?”

“No, the 'lady regent' asked me to steer the crowd from within.” Blueblood said with a sigh. “Or try to. Upper Crust’s gang has been making the rounds at the societies, who are none too happy to have to submit themselves for review.”

“The clubs and societies are meeting without permission?” Sel arched a brow. “You should have told me immediately, Blueblood. I had a squad on standby just to break up that kind of thing.”

“If I wanted to make things worse, I have much quicker and thorough ways of doing it.” Blueblood scoffed. “Jostling nobles only makes them angrier. You don't have the delicate touch for these things, oh captain.”

“ I really don't care about learning how to navigate around delicate things like you do. Sometimes, I feel like I should be jostling even harder.“ Sel laughed. “Nevermind that though. We will discuss that anger, here in this court, and in other ways.”

“Gods I hope so. Culling the Estates left more noble power intact than Lady Velvet anticipated.” Blueblood said. “I think-  and gods punish me for saying this-  that the nobles were prepared for decapitation, though they expected it from Celestia, not us.”


“Decapitation has failed?” Sel rubbed his chin, to which Blueblood nodded. “Then we should try again, and shave closer. I'll tell Lady Velvet you think so, unless you tell her first."

“Sel-”

“I’m not going to stick my neck out for you. Whatever excuses you have for noble resilience, it will come out of your mouth, not mine.” Sel interrupted.

Blueblood hid his emotions. “I see.  I’ll get my notes in order and report to her. It would only be proper.”



As Blueblood hopped off the stage, Aurthora Airy arrived. She took one of the chairs on the lower tier of the stage and waited patiently for events to begin.

A few minutes later, a familiar earth pony got Sel’s attention with a wave. He trotted closer.

“Hey, I’m Ripple Wreath. Is this the Canterlot council of ponies?” Wreath asked, looking over the loitering crowds.

“Yes. The councilors will be over there.” Sel said, pointing to a seat beside Aurthora. “You’re going to sit on the tribunal?”

“I guess so.” Wreath took the indicated chair. “Lady Velvet's liason also told me the pegasus named Fleetfoot was going to-  Oh there she is now.”

Fleetfoot swooped down to the stage, drawing looks from the mumbling crowds at the edge of the plaza. “Captain Sel.” She said, somewhat surly.

“Glad to see you up Lady Fleetfoot.” Sel Lech said warily.

These two ponies, Ripple Wreath and Fleetfoot, were also in the University hospital while Sel was been recovering from the Opera House attack. While he obviously knew Fleetfoot from before the Eternal Night, he didn’t know anything about Ripple Wreath beyond his lengthened Riverponylander drawl. 
Why two outsiders would be participating in the Canterlot ‘Council of Ponies’ was beyond Sel’s ability to understand. Unless...

“Lady Fleetfoot, firstly, congratulations on surviving that blockade.” Sel said.

Fleetfoot predictably frowned. “Many were not so lucky. I still don’t know the fate of many of my friends.”

“My condolences, really. Sometimes when the masters fight, the pawns unjustly suffer.” Sel Lech nodded. “I don’t think we’re enemies, and I regret your airships had to be destroyed to preserve what we’re building here.”

“Yeah, I regret it too.” Fleetfoot grunted. “Now I get to participate in what we’re building here. It promises to be interesting.”

“Yup. You can wait over there. The Canterlot pegasi will probably want to talk to you.” Sel gestured to the other side of the lower stage.
As Fleetfoot trotted away, Sel cast an eye to Ripple Wreath.  “She’s here because of Lady Astral Nacre. How about you?”

“Who?” Ripple Wreath batted his lashes.

Sel was not amused. “They pulled you from the Opera House, right?”

Wreath shrugged.

“You walk like a knight. What’s a riverpony knight doing in Canterlot?” Sel continued his questioning.

“I didn’t know knights had a walk. Are you sure it’s not my osteoporosis?” Wreath chuckled. “Look, I appreciate you’re in charge of security, but I don’t want to talk about myself. Lady Velvet knows me, trusts me enough to put me here, and that has to be enough for you. Maybe later we can become friends.”

“Oh yes, her ladyship trusts you enough to put you under house arrest, along with that Wonderbolt.” Sel countered. “Just stay out of trouble, or I’ll find who you’re answerable to. It won’t be very fun for you if I did.”

“I’m sure, Lord Captain.” Wreath bowed. He looked over Sel’s shoulder, where a group of earth ponies were milling. “Those look my tribe. I’ll go socialize.”

Sel watched Wreath for a few moments longer, thinking. 



The process by which Velvet had selected the Council of Ponies was unclear, but they were a diverse lot.

-Five earth ponies, including Ripple Wreath. Mercifully, Prosser was still sidelined.

-Five pegasi, including Fleetfoot, and the ever bumbling weather factor Nimbus Duster.

-Ten urban nobles

-Two greater nobles, including Aurthora Airy

-Eight commoners from the Inner City, unicorn laborers and advocates. They were by far the most scandalous council appointees.

-Five commoners from the Old Town. These were mostly unicorn merchants and shopkeeps.

-Two priests.

-Two representatives of the University, including the conclave president, Mis Semaphore.

-And Sel Lech representing the Militias and new Guards.


For a total of forty ponies. They would occupy that lower tier of the stage.

Sitting above them on the upper tier would be the three Triumvirs, with Lady Twilight Velvet and Lord Night Light, and two suspiciously empty seats.

And above them all, the solid marble wall of Canterlot Castle, imposing but inert.


Everypony was beginning to gather. Most of the Council of Ponies had arrived, and either taken a seat or huddled to talk with others. The crowd below the stage had begun to thicken too, and it was getting difficult to pass from one side of the plaza to the other without bumping into an eager onlooker.


Two large carriages pulled in from the direction of the Old Town. They pulled around to the side of the stage, the servants pulling them unharnessed themselves, and departed the plaza.
But nopony emerged from the carriages.
One of the purple knights at the edge the plaza went over to investigate, tapping on each of the carriages. Nothing happened, so he returned to his post. Sel watched this idly- Velvet was obviously planning something for the event, but he didn’t know what yet. Hopefully it wouldn’t be a too unpleasant surprise.



“Uh, hello sir.” Sel turned to the new voice. It was the same lanky unicorn stallion who had greeted him at the Solar Monastery that morning. “I’m Brother Springwise, err, reporting for duty.”

“Duty?” Sel perked a brow.

“For Unicorn Prelate, for the court thing.” Springwise gestured. “Like you told me this morning.”

“Ah yes.” Sel grinned. “Congratulations. You are now responsible for representing our whole tribe’s faith needs in political matters. You shall now pretty much be known as ‘the Unicorn Prelate’, and usually nothing besides.”

“Sounds very complicated but I shall try my best.” Springwise affected a smile.
Perhaps the monk understood that he would be taking cues from Twilight Velvet's junta- He could take as much or as little direct responsibility as he wanted, up to a point.

Sel pointed to the upper tier of the stage. “Yes. Sit up on top there. Take that center chair.”

Springwise hesitated- the upper stage was unoccupied, and the monk felt self conscious being up there alone. “Is it okay if I wait until we begin? I would like to talk to some of the ponies here.”

“By all means.” Sel bowed.  It would be a few more minutes before the stars of the show arrived anyway: Lady Velvet had work that morning.







Earlier that Morning.

Twilight Velvet was feeling in peak form as she trotted in a wide circle around Castle Magoria’s garden. A week was finally long enough to shake off the last lingering exhaustion from her overwork during the Eternal Night. She’d gotten up with the sun, had a good breakfast, and was just limbering up before a full day’s work.

But her new purple knights were not todays only onlookers. Astral Nacre sulked under the solitary dead tree in the garden, her beady eyes tracking Velvet back and forth.
“I feel a shadow fall over my soul. Ancepanox is in the city. I’m sure of it.” Astral said, her telepathic tenor calm but determined.

“And I told you not to worry about her. She will come to us when the time is right.” Velvet assured her. “It doesn’t pay to chase after an alicorn when she doesn’t want to be found.”

“I want to talk to her.” Astral insisted. 

“She will want to be talking to you too. The passage of the Eternal Night has doubtlessly marked her as much as it has marked you. With the death of the other alicorns, you might be the only pony on this planet she relates to anymore.” Velvet said, picking up her jogging pace. “Sooner or later, she will feel the tug of companionship, and it will bring you together.”

“Celestia lived hundreds of years without a peer.” Astral pointed out.

Velvet chuckled. “And see where it got her.”

Astral absorbed this lesson.  “Yes mother… The bonds of interpersonal relationships are like the minute hand of the pony clock.”

Velvet laughed at the analogy. “Close enough.” She paused for a moment and stretched. “Listen, I don’t care what you two talk about. If she swears you to secrecy on something, you swear. Don’t break her confidence. Don’t betray her. You can do favors for her, unless it disrupts me.”

“You will always come first, mother.” Astral Nacre promised. “But I’m ready to be a good ally to her.”

“That’s a good girl.” Velvet smiled.  At this point, Velvet wasn't sure of her own angle on it. She felt a strange charity to that nightmare alicorn, Ancepanox.



“Hail, my lady.” One of the purple knights trotted into the garden from the castle gate. “Some ponies are here to see you.” He half turned, then felt the need to add "Commoners, but they have a look about them."

At last. “Show them in.” Velvet nodded.

As the knight trotted back to retrieve the visitors, Astral stood up. “I should leave then.”

Velvet paused in the shade for a drink of water: Her maid came out with a pitcher and glass. “Unless you have something to add to political struggle, that would be for the best.” She agreed between sips. “Please don’t be late for the council. Noon on the castle steps."

Astral transformed herself, her flesh twisting and tightening until she was a facsimile of a pegasus. She launched into the air, vectoring towards the city, and disagreed.

The knight returned with two ponies, an old earth pony stallion with a beard, and a feisty looking unicorn mare. Velvet watched the group approach, the maid standing behind her.

“Lady Twilight Velvet.” The old stallion gave her a little nod. "I hope we have not interrupted anything." He motioned to the skies.

“M’lady.” The mare grunted, not even sparing a nod.


“I’ve been waiting for your visit for a week now.” Velvet said. “I thought you’d forgotten about your imprisoned friends.”

“We are patient, observant. However the imminent trial has forced our hoof.” The old stallion said. “My name is Toil Soother, of Baltimare. I have been empowered to speak on behalf of a collective of interested ponies. We have a steak in seeing them released from unjust imprisonment.”

“And I’m Moor Breaker. I'm with him.” The unicorn mare said.

“And she was the only pony brave enough to accompany me into the lion’s den.”  Toil Soother patted his younger comrade on the back. “We are from the-”


“You’re from the Canterlot Labor Circle. You represent several anarchist, communalist, and egalitarian organizations, some of them revolutionary.” Velvet interrupted him. “Toil Soother, you've been wanted for questioning by the imperial government for several years, in connection to illegal strikes in the Cloudsdale factories, Baltimare shipyards, and Los Pegasus shipyards. Many of those strikes turned into deadly riots. You've been an anarchist nusiance longer than I have been alive.”

Toil Soother stroked his beard, then let out a guilty chuckle. “It feels good to be recognized.”

“Yes, I am rather proud of myself for drawing you out into the open. As you have ascertained, this city is no longer answerable to the Empire, nor Cloudsdale, nor Baltimare, nor Los Pegasus. You could even imagine that your terrorist deeds out there have no bearing in here.” Velvet said.

“Terrorist? How the heck is striking terrorism?” Moor Breaker exclaimed.

“Those in power can declare anything terrorism. I obviously wasn't there to see what happened, but I can imagine the bloodshed when the Cloudsdale or Baltimate guards came down on those miserable workers, clubbing them to the street, , brutal, merciless. You could argue the morality either way, and I have. But you can't debate which side had the power. The club, not the face it struck, told us who the terrorists were."  Velvet said breathlessly, like she was telling some great secret. "I can tell you're a smart pony, Toil Breaker, because you didn't try my patience with a parade, or strike, or such malarky. I like you, actually. You know who has the baton today." She took a sip of her water and put it back on the tray. “Again, welcome. You have something to offer me or you wouldn't be here, anarchist.”


“Yes. We have come to negotiate.” Toil Soother said, clearing his throat. “I would normally be against deals with nobles. They are treacherous as a rule, and will happily betray the commoner for their class interests. However I suspect you would be insulted to be compared to them. You hold yourself above your class, on the level of the late princess herself." He stroked his beard. "I was in audience for the announcement for your 'council of ponies'. Reformist gestures usually do not interest me. However, this morning's announcement was devoid of the usual harangues against deviants and disruptors that accompany most reform proclamations. Thus, my interest in you. We my even be a helpful ally if we see you moving in the right direction.”

Velvet chuckled. “Oh, that’s very tantalizing. What would ‘moving in the right direction’ entail?”

“Releasing our imprisoned friends for one.” Moor Breaker barked.

Toil Soother nodded. “You know they are innocent. Whoever it was that led the coup that massacred the Estates, it was not orchestrated or sanctioned by any Labor Circle groups. These accusations that nebulous ‘revolutionaries’ are behind the attack is slanderous at the minimum, dangerous to the peace at the maximum.” He paused. "Obviously, their innocence is immaterial to the verdict."

“Their trial will be going ahead.” Velvet said firmly.

“I realize that. However without an acquittal, there can be no negotiation.” Toil Soother shook his head.

“Don't get ahead of yourself. Without negotiation, there will be no acquittal. If you care about your comrades’ lives, you will drop that as a condition of discussion.” Velvet countered. “Now, I could be persuaded to enforce an acquittal. You know the deal. Quid pro quo, monseur anarchiste." She laughed politely. "And I have ever so much work to do."

“That is a lot of qualifications you’ve placed before us, just to free innocent ponies.” Toil Soother sighed.

“Not enough for you? Then I'll correct myself. You doing this job is the prerequisite for opening negotiation. The acquittal has to be further earned.” Velvet grinned. “You have nothing over me. I could root out your gang in an instant and pass you over to Cloudsdale. Do not forget I have the baton, and you won't get a better deal with negative leverage.”

“This is extortion!” Moor Breaker puffed her cheeks. “We are proud workers, and will never bow to this kind of imperious demagoguery!”

“Uh, yes we will.” Toil Soother contradicted.

"Bullshit!" Moor Breaker stomped her hooves.

Both the older ponies cast long glances on the feisty unicorn.

“You don’t actually want to cooperate with this tyrant.” Moor Breaker grumbled to her older compatriot.

“I won't let innocent comrades die. No, I should expand that, to say I will not let any innocent pony die.” Toil Soother turned to Velvet. "Please do not make us break that oath. I do not need you to pretend to understand-"

"I understand perfectly, anarchist. It's all about tweaking the definition of 'innocent'." Velvet grinned daggers.

“She's not even a reformist. Look at her. I wouldn't be surprised if she was the one who merk'd the Estates!” Moor Breaker showed no compunction of bad-mouthing Velvet right in front of her. “You must know she will sell us out.”

“I don’t know, Moor. I thought we had sorted out this debate before we came in." Toil Soother said, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Do not make me invoke seniority over you. We need breathing room. Besides, who would want to join us if they knew we left our friends out to dry?”

“Who would join us if they knew we were the dogsbodies of tyrants?” Moor Breaker muttered.


Velvet watched the argument smugly. But it was nothing she didn't know already. All the cards were on the table from the start.
“You should at least hear what I need done. It’s not too hard, even if there’s a time pinch.” Velvet gestured to her maid, who disappeared into the keep briefly, returning with drinks for the two guests. The revolutionaries politely declined. “It’s a simple game of dress-up.”

“A false-flag.” Moor Breaker inferred. She did not break her deep scowl. “Devious nag. Who have you grown tired of, your noble detractors or your middle class militias?”

“You have to agree first.” Velvet smiled. “And naturally, if you turn down now, you’ll be going before my Council too, on charges of attempted assassination or something like that.”

“You make choosing so simple.” Toil Soother grumbled. “The Canterlot Labor Circle is meeting after this. We can be ready for whatever drama you want for the Council of Ponies.”

“Good boy. You’re doing right by your ponies. We will talk again tomorrow.” Velvet stood up and shook Toil Soother’s hoof. “As for today, I’ll see to it your comrades have their trial postponed."

“How generous.” Toil Soother said grumpily. 

Velvet motioned to her maid. “Take them to the outer garden and and explain to them today’s task.” She motioned one of the purple knights over. “Unfortunately you’ll have to be tossed out rather roughly. The nobles could be spying on me, and I want them to think you were soundly rejected.”

“Have a nice day, Lady Velvet.” Toil Soother said with a sour, jerky bow. "The next meeting will go smoother, I hope."

“Later, boss.” Moor Breaker hissed.

Velvet trotted into the castle keep, while the maid and the knight took the revolutionaries to the outer garden for the briefing and beating.
"Good grief! I hate meeting with ponies with similar names. I keep forgetting which is which." Velvet poured herself another drink. "Miserable revolutionaries. Maybe they'll burn this city down and spare me the annoyance of doing it myself."








Ripple Wreath was having a great time. So far, he’d found the earth ponies of Canterlot to be uniquely clever, witty, and gregarious.
There were four of them, two lesser nobles and two merchants. One of the nobles was a more recent immigrant from the Lower Riverpony Lands, while the other had family living in Canterlot for generations. The merchants were similarly split, one local, the other a Manehattanite serving in Canterlot as the representative of his trading house. All of them except the local noble were ready to snicker among themselves about Canterlot’s upheaval, and even then the local noble only offered meager apologia about unicorn politics.

Then Fleetfoot brought over the pegasi and the whole process of introductions was repeated. Two of the pegasi were weatherponies, one was a merchant from Cloudsdale, and one was an artisan. The pegasi regarded Fleetfoot with a kind of awe owing to her Wonderbolt status, perhaps bordering on creepy for one of the stallions whose gaze lingered on her. Wreath felt a little jealous.


But after nearly an hour idle chatting, and the arrival of all the Council except Lady Velvet and Night Light, a significant crowd had filled the plaza.

Wreath and Fleetfoot drifted off to the side, getting an opportunity to talk alone.
“So, you were here when night fell.” Wreath said.

“First off, hello.” Fleetfoot bowed her head a bit. “I’ve seen it all, yes. It hasn’t been fun.”

“I imagine not.” Wreath remarked.

“Which is why I’m very eager not to have that night repeated.” Fleetfoot said, voice dipping into suspicion. “I don’t know anything about you. You weren’t there when, ahem, Astral was born. But I saw her eyeing you in the hospital, and you her.”

“Sorry, who?” Wreath batted his eyelashes.

Fleetfoot grumbled in annoyance. “Are you really going to play this game with me?”

“Nopony seems to be able to keep their tongues from wagging off about the secret beast except me. I can’t entirely fault you, but Lady Velvet might.” Wreath said wryly. “Lady Astral is my ward for as long as I’m in the city. We will be learning from each other until my liege retrieves me.”

“Every part of that sentence terrified me.” Fleetfoot scowled. “I don’t imagine you’ll tell me who your mistress is.”

Wreath stared at her for a minute. “No, I don’t think I will, but I expect she will be introducing herself in the next few days.”



Something to look forward to, Fleetfoot thought to herself.
While that ominous visit hung in Fleetfoot’s head, it was a distinct lack of a certain kind of thought that had defined Fleetfoot’s last week.  Since waking up in the University Hospital, her psychic link with Rain Gnash had been muddled at best. She felt waves of sensation and emotion welling up in the back of her head, and at other times heard an incessant, maddening buzz, but not Rain Gnash’s voice.  She could spend hours in a darkened corner of the small bedroom Velvet had given her, trying to delve into the psychic link and reach Gnash…  But her voice was too weak, for Gnash had been more clever with the link, given how much she’d dwelled over it in her vegetative state. What had changed? Why was it voiceless?
Heavy and gloomy was Fleetfoot’s time alone. In so short a time she’d gotten used to sharing her thoughts with another. Now she felt a hurtful loneliness. Abandonment.

It made her feel anxious and ill, paranoid and uncharitable.
And when a Wonderbolt felt paranoid, their trained senses picked things out other ponies wouldn’t notice. Like how the fur rippled occasionally at the back of Ripple Wreath’s neck, or how his eyes would dart away for a fraction of a moment, almost too quickly to catch. Like how Sel Lech Sabornord was starting to shiver, at his seat at the edge of the stage overlooking the crowd.
The hardest thing not to notice were that several different groups of ponies gathering at the different edges of the plaza: A cadre of nobles on one side, some similarly dressed commoners on the other, and a suspicious-looking pack of militia ponies hovering near the main thoroughfare.


“I haven’t known Twilight Velvet for long, but I know she’s a bastard.” Fleetfoot said. “She chose everypony who now sits here. What are the chances this is a set-up?"

Wreath nodded towards Sel Lech. “Her pet lieutenant is here though.”

“He’ll bite it eventually. But… probably not today.” Fleetfoot conceded. After a few moments, she gathered the wherewithal to pose the next point.  “You have some kind of curse, don’t you. But, not due to Twilight Velvet. You’re more like the black mare, Iillor.”

“Should that name mean something to me?” Wreath asked, curious.

“No. I just feel better knowing you’re just as much on the outside as I am. We’re both delegates, kinda.” Fleetfoot said.

Wreath giggled and smiled the first genuine smile of the day. “Aww, thank you. I appreciate your trust my lady.”

“It’s not something I’ll be giving out very easily.” Fleetfoot said, turning to relocate the suspicious militia ponies she’d noticed before. “Especially if this IS a set-up.”


“We will know very soon.” Wreath pointed to the south end of the plaza. “I think that’s Lady Twilight Velvet coming now.”

Two purple knights with halberds and one with a sword made space in the crowd, letting Twilight Velvet cross through to the stage. Taking the hint, the Council of Ponies found their seats, and the crowd fell silent.

Twilight Velvet had not dressed specially for this, her first address as ruler of Canterlot. She wore a simple beige skirt and grey silk shirt, pinned with a silver brooch in the shape of an oak tree.
“Ponies of Canterlot…” She started, slow and somber. Then she broke out in a smile. “In the Free Cities tradition, you would be addressed as citizens. Would you like to be addressed as such?”

The silent crowd, thousands of ponies, took a few seconds to process the question. Then an eruption of sound, a thousand voices yelling with all their voice. Most of them didn’t really know why they were yelling, only that they had never been asked a question before by such a pony in such a position over them. They felt an instinct to participate, an instinct Twilight Velvet had carefully anticipated and was playing to.

“Fine then!  CITIZENS of Canterlot!” Velvet adulated, to more shouting and stomping. “What is a citizen? A citizen is not a class, or social order, or reward or punishment. Citizen is a job! Citizen is work! The citizen is the part and party to the order that governs them. A citizen is aware of themselves, aware of other ponies, and aware of their laws.  You who have come to watch and, believe it if you may, contribute to this Council of Ponies…  YOU ARE CITIZENS.”

A deafening roar from the crowd.



Upper Crust and a few of her supporters arrived at the edge of the plaza. The sound they were hearing rivaled the excitement from air shows.

“What the hell is going on here?” Upper Crust asked.

One of the nobles already in attendance broke out of the crowd and galloped over to Crust and company.  “She’s talking about citizenship for all ponies in the city.”

Upper Crust watched Velvet's gusting and shouting, all of it drowned out at that distance by the crowd.  “Did she say anything about voting or representation?”

“Not yet.”

“Then let’s assume she’s just spouting rhetoric right now. She’s known for that.” Upper Crust said. “Let’s get closer.”


By the time the nobles got in close enough to hear, Velvet had moved on to talking about the Council of Ponies, which drew understandably less response.

“The test of leadership, or rulership, is having strength against opposition. Indecisiveness is the greatest weakness of them all. That is why I’m here before you. Every single speaker will be in the same position! If they can not defend themselves against the voices of Canterlot, they will not be heard! No weak law, no half-hearted justice, no wishy-washy policy, shall make it through.”


“This is barely regulated mob rule.” One of the nobles commented.

“Wait until we see it in action. Even forums like this can be steered.” Upper Crust said. “Keep an eye out for Lord Night Light’s arrival. He is our advocate after all.”


“Now you understand why clubs and guilds have been suspended.” Velvet said, drawing some angry rumblings from the crowd. “This is the only political gathering that matters. This is the room to express yourself. Your clubs and guilds will be granted when it becomes possible for them to supplement, rather than detract from this Council of Ponies. It would be insulting your status as citizens to do otherwise!”

Rising above the din of the crowd, a question rang out clearly. “Will Canterlot be a Free City?”

“Without the Empire, how can there be Free Cities? Canterlot is a city onto its own! It does not need status granted from above to have its system.” Velvet responded.

Another lul, as the crowd processed its sudden power of asking questions. Then hundreds of questions at once, jumbling together in an indecipherable torrent.



While Velvet was showboating in front of the crowd, Fleetfoot scooted her chair closer to Ripple Wreath.
“Hey…  Astral Nacre is in the crowd somewhere. I just have this fuzzy feeling. Can, um, your senses pick up anything?”

Wreath was starting to feel as on edge as Fleetfoot, not because of any psychic strain, but because we was not used to so many loud ponies in one place. Even traveling with Glori’s little army was calmer than the noise and thunder from the Canterlot crowd. And to think, the thousand ponies in the plaza was not even one-hundredth of the population of the city. It gave him a fear of being crushed.
He felt burbling dark power offer to come and take away the fear. He rejected it, for the moment.

“No ma’am. I can’t tell anything out of the ordinary.” Wreath said. “Except that our friend Lord Sel Lech is looking a little nervous.”

“I saw that too.” Fleet agreed. “What does he know that we don’t?”



“Now I have spoken long enough, and explained myself well. We are here to govern, judge, and most of all, be seen.” Velvet was winding down her speech, pausing for swells in the crowd and deflecting questions with quips. “It is time for this Council of Ponies to begin. The Unicorn Prelate will preside as arbiter.”
Velvet circled around the seated council and jumped up to the higher tier of the stage. She dragged a chair to where Springwise was waiting nervously and sat. She said a few whispers to the new unicorn prelate.

“Uh, yes, ahem.” Springwise stood up. “This Council of Ponies represents you, Canterlot’s citizens. If you have a problem with any of the ponies sitting before you, speak up and let them defend themselves.”

“How about you, monk?” A pony shouted, to some laughter.



Thus began a process whereby the ponies in the crowd began identifying and shouting out the names of ponies on the Council. The council had no obligation to answer, and indeed several of them sat still and silent until the masses grew tired of trying to get their attention. But others did answer, stepping to the edge of the stage to shout back at the crowd- Some of them were bombastic or witty enough to woo the crowd, while others only gained more detractors, until they either withdrew back to their seat, or more excitingly, they conceded and retreated off the stage. Then it was race for new ponies to jump up on the stage and defend themselves before the crowd, and one eventually became the clear favorite and took the empty seat.

After an hour, the crowd’s energy was starting to wain, and about a dozen of the ponies on the Council had been replaced. Some of the crowd had tried summoning Fleetfoot and Wreath to the front, but since nopony knew their names they couldn’t be called out.



“This is borderline performance art.” Upper Crust remarked. “Is Lady Velvet making a statement about representative governance?”

“Or is she just having fun wasting our time.” Another noble posed.



At some point, Night Light had hopped up the back of the stage and taken his seat beside Twilight Velvet.

“Any interesting happenings?” Night Light whispered to his wife.

“Not really. Some of the more soft spoken ponies I selected have stepped down. So far the crowd has selcted for the fattest, dumbest, cruelest specimens of Canterlot.” Velvet chuckled.

“You really like to inflict the biggest oafs on Ponykind. You have the patience of a saint, to be able to wrangle characters like these.” Night Light observed. “Or perhaps, the patience of a devil.”

“You make it sound so romantic.” Velvet snickered.



With things calming down, nopony put up much of a fight when one of the groups of ponies hanging out at the edge of the plaza began pushing forward.

“Heads up.” Fleetfoot nudged Ripple Wreath. “The first intrigue of the day.”


“Sel Lech Sabonord!” The lead pony of the group shouted out. Since nopony else was really making much noise, the yell carried fairly clearly. “Sabonord, answer to us for your crimes.”

Sel Lech, who had been lazily slouched in his chair for the proceedings, lifted his gaze to the shouter. He squinted, then arched a brow. He looked to Twilight Velvet but she shrugged.

“Sabonord, we demand justice!” The lead pony shouted out again, this time with concurring jeers from the others in his group. A couple other ponies in the crowd smelled the drama and joined in the shouting too.

Sel Lech was a bit nonplussed. “Do I know you ponies?”

“No sooner did the night fall than you enacted a classicide terror on the ponies of the Inner City. Over twenty-five ponies went missing under the watch of your guard and militias!” The pony accused. “Multiple witnesses report of you ordering homeless ponies to the castle, where they were never heard from again!”

No the crowd was really getting interested, with outraged shouting swelling.

Sel Lech, unwisely, stood up and trotted to the edge of the stage. “Several hundred ponies went missing during that accursed night, and I have the Junta’s full support to investigate each and every case. We were in a time of critical transition, trying to prevent more revolutionary massacres like happened to the Estates, while putting militias in the posts the disbanded guard occupied. Even in ideal conditions, such transition would be chaotic, but the night dwelled heavily in pony’s heads. You should be thanking me for holding things down as successfully as I did!”

The mix of aloof and smug that Sel was showing was not the attitude the crowd was looking for. Their outrage was beginning to turn into anger.

“Murderer!” One pony shouted.

“Where are the missing ponies?” Another said.



Suddenly, gun retorts pierced through the din!  The cadre of militiaponies hanging near the plaza’s edge had shot into the crowd in the direction of the original harassers.  All became chaos in an instant. The crowd became a roiling sea of panic as ponies pressed and shoved in every direction to get away. Ponies were crushed and trampled.

Sel Lech gasped in horror. “Cease fire! Cease fire!” He yelled as loud as he could, but the guards either could not hear or did not listen, as they worked to reload and unload into the crowd.
Seized by conviction, Sel turned and grabbed the nearest of the pegasi sitting on stage. “Carry me! We have to stop them!”

The pegasus Sel was shouting at wilted, but Fleetfoot stepped up. “Get that heavy armor off.” The Wonderbolt ordered.

Sel Lech immediately complied, immediately shaking off his armor. A bullet whizzed by, tearing a chunk out of the stage.
Fleetfoot made a little hop, hooking her hooves around Sel’s shoulders and heaving him up. With a powerful sweep of her wings, she flew above the panicked mob and dropped the unicorn right in front of the militiaponies.

The militiaponies hesitated, throwing each other lidded glances.

“Stop this! Stop this! What do you think you’re doing?! Don’t you think I can handle myself?” Sel yelled, barely audible over the sustained wails and screams around them. “Don’t you understand what you’ve just done?”


One of the militiaponies chuckled and snapped down the powder plate of his arquebus. “Sorry Cap. This city is Free now.”  He took aim squarely at Sel’s head.

But the gunner did not squeeze off the shot. A look of surprise overtook his features, then one of pain, then he slumped forward.  Ripple Wreath, tense but resolute, yanked his bloody sword out of the gunner’s back.

The other militiaponies did not take kindly to the killing of their fellow. Two of them tossed down their guns and pulled out their swords, charging Ripple Wreath. The other remaining three put new haste into reloading their arquebuses.

Sel only hesitated a second before dashing forward and headbutting the nearest gunner. The pony he hit staggered back, but did not drop the gun, so instead Sel reached forward and stole the dazed mare’s sword, then jammed it through her gut.
In a vivid flash of color and sound, Sel saw his hooves make a similar motion to disembowel a helpless noble, begging for their life in the Canterlot Castle throne room. The blood he smelled reminded him of that pungent aftermath of blood and bile, a work he’d helped write, then clean up.

Still cleaning up those messes, Sel thought to himself as the flashback episode receded. Clenching his teeth against the growing horror in his head, he wrenched the sword up, taking it from the gunner mare’s intestines to well into her lungs. Then he pulled it out and dashed to the next pony.

Fleetfoot and several purple knights arrived quickly thereafter, cutting down the rest of the rogue militiaponies. There were no survivors.
However, the job was not over- The stampede had dispersed enough that other gunshots could be heard in other parts of the city.


“This is a full on rebellion. Gather up loyal detachments and root out the traitors from Canterlot. Keep several troops around here in case they come back.” Sel ordered the purple knights tiredly. “Take one or two alive. We don’t know if they were attempting a coup or what.” 

“Captain.” The knights nodded, before galloping to their orders.

Sel trotted over to the nearest cafe table ringing the plaza.  Dozens of ponies had been badly injured during the stampede, and ponies were just starting to filter back to help them. A few were not moving at all- Killed by the guns of the militia or the hooves of their fellow pony.
Sel rotated his chair to face away from them. He tried to lean, slightly curled, like he was deep in thought, but he began to shake, until he just lay his head down on the table and let the tears flow.








That Night


The small, humorless room Fleetfoot had been given the last week in was starting to drive her insane. She’d been promised that the drab space, sporting a single bed, nightstand, and adjoining toilet, was the latest in hospitality, and necessary for a pony so recently released from the hospital as she was to avoid unhealthy excitements.
Excitements weren’t what was gnawing into Fleetfoot. It was being alone with only the hazy psychic link to dwell on. Rain Gnash was still incommunicado. Fleet was going to go insane if she had to bear the boredom any more. Only by her pleading did Velvet let her take home some scant reading material, but after she’d torn through them she was back to staring at the wall or out the window onto the dim street.


Every now and then, a few gun retorts echoed from a distant part of the city, evidence that Twilight Velvet's Junta was still fighting the last pockets of militia resistance. Nopony was sure yet why the militiaponies had rebelled. Most people speculated that since most of them were original Blackhorn Council supporters, and backers of Seacrest Blackhorn’s brief Viziership, that they were offended by the way Velvet was leading- Especially if she was going to leave Sel Lech out to dry, seeing as he was Seacrest’s cousin and appointee to the captaincy. 

To Fleetfoot, it only solidified her brooding suspicion that Twilight Velvet was causing chaos just for the hell of it. Maybe the mare, not really sure what to do now that she’d gotten everything she wanted, had no idea how to lead a functional government. Or was it another fold in an incomprehensible multi-faceted scheme to advance some other parts of her agenda? Was Velvet behind the revolt at all?


“I hope after today she trusts me enough to lift this annoying house arrest.” Fleetfoot whispered to herself as she spent another listless hour staring out the window, watching the slumbering city.
Fleet tried closing her eyes and seeing though Gnash’s. For the first time in a while, she could actually feel concrete sensations.  She could feel, barely, the little tingles on Gnash’s spine as she shifted in her wheelchair, or the mumblings of whomever Gnash was talking to. The link was still there.
“What’s going on in Cloudsdale? I hope nothing as exciting as this.” Fleet said sarcastically. “Sheesh. If I asked, would Velvet let me fight more miltiaponies? By Celestia, even a visit from Astral Nacre would be better than this.”



No sooner had she said this than there was a sound from behind her, a click out of the lock of the door to the hall. Fleet spun around, expecting a purple knight to barge in, but nothing happened. Nopony entered.

“Uh, hello?” Fleetfoot stood up and trotted to the door. “Hello?”
She stood there for a moment, then tested the handle. The door was unlocked. She cracked it open and peaked outside, but saw nopony in the drab halls of the guesthouse.
“What the…”

Fleet had the distinct feeling she was being tricked, but by the same token even a ruse was preferable to the boredom of her confined room. She pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway, and when nopony ran to confront her she moved cautiously towards the stairs.
It was completely silent, and indeed when she peeked into some of the other rooms they were empty.

“What the dickens is going on? I thought there were other ponies here? I’ve heard other ponies here! Where did they go?”

It looked like she could walk out the door and fly right out of Canterlot. But wasn’t that going against the reason she had come in the first place? She’d wanted to face Twilight Velvet or Astral Nacre and ask for a cure to her curse. On their terms, that seemed to mean languishing until called up for random things like the Council of Ponies.
She really wished Gnash would weigh in, but the mental bond remained strangled.

“Well…  I can go back to Cloudsdale, umm, I guess.” She sighed. “Maybe I can be back before anypony notices I’m gone.” She was kidding herself. Even at an exhausting full speed, Fleetfoot could not make the round trip until well after sunrise.



But as she neared the stairs, she heard a faint voice. Fleet thought for a moment it was somepony responding to her, but the hall was still empty. The noise came from a room at the far end of the hall polar opposite hers.

Her certainty of being in a trap growing, Fleetfoot crept towards the sound. It was actually two voices, one male, the other unclear.
The door to the occupied room was open- Fleet had a view into a room that was the mirror image of her own room, save its window opened onto a small alley rather than the open street, meaning it was much darker and colder.

But that was not the only reason for the darkness and coldness. A black presence occupied he room, and as Fleetfoot’s eyes adjusted to the darkness she grew more and more horrified.


Ripple Wreath, the male voice she’d heard, was sitting on the bed. The small red earth pony looked anxious but excited. Fleet hadn’t had the chance to talk to him after the incident with the militia, but she had noted at the time how remarkably cool he’d been under pressure. He hadn't even been breathing hard. Fleet hadn’t thought about it then, but now she wondered it if was because of his curse.
And speaking of his curse...
Just in front of Wreath was a dark silhouette of something large, or the comparison Fleetfoot’s mind immediately conjured, alicorn-sized. It’s eyes glowed purple and its teeth glinted in the meagre light. Those eyes, a cat’s slitted eyes, slid from the stallion to Fleetfoot, transfixing her with a stare that sent ice through her veins.

“Oh buck.” Fleetfoot swore under her breath. So the time had come to meet Ripple Wreath’s mysterious mistress. She could not imagine a more intimidating ambush.


“Welcome. Have a seat.” The shadowed alicorn said, her quiet voice gravelly. “I am Ancepanox, Nightmare of the Moon. You, I hear, are Fleetfoot.”

Nightmare of the Moon? Fleetfoot reacted like most mares in the situation of hearing a foal’s tale spoken of with such deadly gravitas, and laughed nervously. “Y- Yeah, heh heh, that’s me.”

Nightmare Moon shifted, and the movement of her mane sent a little cascade of sparkles off her shoulders. “You are in kindred company, even if you were expecting another. You have nothing to fear, though I ask you wait your turn. So please, sit.”  This time it sounded less like a request and more like an order.

Fleetfoot took the offered chair and sat. The cautious joy of freedom was erased by mixed terror and burning curiosity. She was racing to fit things together in her head, and myriad boxes were getting ticked: Why was the mare in the moon gone? Why had Celestia fled south and what had killed her? What had brought on the Eternal Night? The answer to all of that was staring at her.

“You and I have much to talk about, Lady Fleetfoot.” Nightmare Moon’s rough voice was not suited for the polite affectations she was attempting. “Let me finish with my boy-” The black alicorn motioned to Wreath, and as her leg strayed into the moon beam from the window, Fleet could see the steel horseshoe burned into the flesh of her hoof. “Then I will have all the time in the world for you.”

“Hee hee, thanks.” Fleetfoot peeped, then shut her mouth.



Satisfied, Nightmare Moon shifted her gaze back to the stallion, and the room grew even colder. “You were saying.” She snarled.

“I was just trying to say, Lady Ancepanox, that I didn’t mean to eat her.” Wreath said apologetically.  “I just got so caught up in the moment. She’d really abused me. I wanted to show that I wasn’t cowed.”

“That’s about the lamest excuse ever.” Nightmare Moon was not having it. “It is not your place or your right to despoil an alicorn body.”

Wreath nibbled his lip, formulating a protest.
“I want to see you explain yourself on this one, my lady. What you did to Celestia and Luna was far beyond what I did to Agana.”

“I am attuned to Celestia and Luna. They are not gone. They lived, live, will live.  But Agana was a living relic. She was fragile. What secrets were contained within her, from her biological construction to her magic, are now lost. I may have even been able to rebuild her. Besides-” The voice of Ancepanox dipped into a growl. “You need no reason other than I say so.”

“You say so?” Wreath asked.

“I’m not going to humor you with aged philosophies. I don’t claim a divine right of kings, or enlightened benevolent despotism, or any such. Not between us. You’re going to listen to me because I’m better than you, and if you don’t, there will be consequences. That’s the way of alicorns, when all pretense is stripped away: Domination.”
Ancepanox reached towards the stallion again, almost touching his chest with her steel-capped hoof. “Do you think you’re better than an alicorn, Ripple Wreath?”

Ripple Wreath spoke with a cavalier tone bordering on disrespect. “I’m better than one alicorn, and while that prize is shared with you my lady, I won’t downplay the accomplishment. It is to your honor I triumph over-.”

“That knightly prattle impresses no one.” Moon scoffed.


Wreath rolled his eyes. “Tell me what I should be sorry for, and I’ll adjust myself appropriately.”

“Don’t eat alicorns. Period. You should have known better.” Ancepanox said. “Apologize immediately.”

Wreath sighed. “Okay well, screw me then. I’m sorry, my lady. But I wasn’t myself!”

Ancepanox went silent for a time.
“You say you weren’t yourself. Who were you then? Though you have a dark taint within you, it is unitary with your being. It is your responsibility to control it.” She lectured. “No excuses. I won’t punish you this time, but even if you transform again I will hold you fully culpable for your actions. Wolf or pony, it doesn’t matter.”


Fleetfoot could not bare her silence any longer. “You... transformed?” She asked the stallion Wreath.


“Hell yeah, I was a big wolf!” Wreath grinned in remembered pride. “As big as this room. Teeth as big as your head!”

“Did you use that power at the plaza?” Fleet ventured.

“Kinda. I used the dark, but I wasn’t stressed enough to fully transform. I did teleport through shadow instinctually, which was cool.” Wreath boasted. “This is an amazing feeling, knowing I’m a superior being to nearly every pony in this city, and at the mere cost of ‘hunting’ every once in a while.”

“Show some humility. This power comes from the combined dreams of Ponykind. They are your mothers as much as I am.” Nightmare Moon batted at him lightly with a wing.

“Yes ma’am.” Wreath said with a grumble.

Moon cast an eye to Fleet. “I can see your line of thinking, but he is not afflicted in the same way you are. His soul is immured by Dark. Yours was cauterized by it.”

Fleetfoot shook her head. That didn’t explain anything.


“If you’re talking to her, are we done?” Wreath asked of Nightmare Moon.

Moon smiled thinly. “If you remember the lesson.”

Wreath bowed his head. “It’s taken to heart. I promise.” He scooted back from the edge of the bed, removing himself from the conversation.



Nightmare Moon turned to Fleetfoot, shifting to her hooves and moving even deeper into the shadow.

“So uh…” Fleet tried to keep the room from settling into oppressive silence. “You seem to know a lot, um, Lady Ancepanox. Err, Lady Moon. Uh, which would you prefer? Because he called you one…” She trailed off, as the dark alicorn sat down less than hoof away, towering over Fleet physically.


“Is your bond partner listening right now?” Ancepanox asked.

Fleet chewed her lip. “I- I don’t know. She’s been silent th-”

“What’s the limit of the bond? When you dream, is she there? Do you dream in the same shape as her?”

“Um, I haven’t dreamed since the ritual thing.” Fleetfoot glanced around the room. That was a lie of course, but what she’d had where the most stark and terrifying nightmares imaginable, the like of which she would not even allow herself to remember. Had Gnash been in the nightmares? She couldn’t recall.


“Do you remember the sensations you experienced when our esteemed Astral Nacre bestowed the bond?” Nightmare Moon pressed, her tone staying into sarcasm.

“That’s- That’s indecent! It was a very painful experience.” Fleetfoot protested.

“Do you have any way to describe or explain it? Come on. What would you say to a complete stranger.” Moon fidgeted. “Come now, come now. Don’t you have anything to say?”

Fleet, through the utter intimidation and fear of the alicorn, felt a telltale tingle at the back of her skull, and a fuzzy numbness in her limbs. Rain Gnash had started feeling through the bond.

Nightmare Moon, on some level, detected it too. Her glowing purple eyes locked with Fleetfoot’s. “Our dear Astral Nacre is a bit clueless sometimes, but what a fascinating thing she has done.” She moved closer.
“Yes, her magic is not as useless in dream manipulation as she thinks. The subtle work…  I’ve really grown to appreciate it. Two separate dreams, forged into one. The seams where there has been hammering, welding, polishing…  it's immaculate”

“Immaculate?” Fleet whimpered.

“The existential pains you’re experiencing are not the fault of shoddy work. It’s just what happens when incompatible minds are pushed together. See, if they were harmonious, they would join in power, as during the ritual.” Nightmare Moon noted. “Astral Nacre was trying to recreate the process of her birth, a process of creation. That is her consistent, elusive goal.”

“If you’re going to talk about Astral, she should probably be here.” Ripple Wreath pointed out.

Moon shook her head. “I don’t want to talk to her yet. She has been too busy with Twilight Velvet’s novel little knights anyway.”

Wreath shrugged.

“Fine, sooner rather than later, I will talk to her. I have something to do first.” Moon said with a strange, almost lascivious delight.  “We represent a broad spectrum of the Dark: You, me, Fleetfoot here, and Astral Nacre. Between us no secret will remain safe.”



“I don't understand, nor do I want to.” Fleetfoot muttered. “All do respect, your ladyship, but I have no stake in whatever it is you’re talking about. I just want to get cured.”

Moon sniggered. “That’s what we’re talking about. A cure. A cure to many things, actually.” She opened her mouth, as if she were about to launch into a speech, but caught herself, and just smiled. “Stick around. We’re fitting company, no?”

“You can’t keep her in Canterlot against her will.” Ripple Wreath pointed out. “And you’re not even consulting the pony on the other side of the bond. Seems like they should have some input too.”

“She’s not going to refuse.” Moon laughed dismissively.

Fleet was not sure if she preferred when the alicorn was brooding in the shadows or the unnerving laughter that would not stop. “Well…”

Moon continued. “Where else can she turn? Whom else in Equestria will bother to care, comfort, or save her?”

Wreath shrugged and went back to staring at the ceiling.


Fleetfoot, no stranger to stressful life-and-death situations, was slowly pushing past her fear to formulate a plan. She had to negotiate her way out of the room, or she was going to be taken in by the cold purple eyes that didn’t blink.
“I can’t stay in Canterlot. That massacre in front of Canterlot Castle-”

“Hey, I understand.” Moon interrupted. “Death, politics, that’s all anxiety inducing. It’s not fun to be around. Tell you what, Lady Fleetfoot...  When I leave I take you with me. Wreath, you can stay with Astral a little while longer.”

Wreath struggled not to act disappointed. “As you wish my lady.”

“Don’t be glum. I think you have a lot to learn from her as regards your transformation. You’d make the ideal subject for her to practice her dream magic too.” Moon said. “Oh don’t give me that look. We’re all trying to do the right thing here.”

“She’s going to be upset you’re making decisions without her.” Wreath said. “But I think she will eventually agree with what you decide.”

“Now you’re getting it.” Moon nodded.
Both Moon and Wreath made amused noises.

“What’s the plan for the rest of the evening?” Wreath asked.

“I have to look for something in the city.” Moon said, and left it at that. “At some point I’ll talk to Astral. There’s no way I can search Canterlot Castle without her knowing anyhow. Depending on how things go, I will leave the city at the end of the week with Lady Fleetfoot. We’ll go from there.”

Wreath nodded “Very good. Whenever Astral shows back up, I’ll tell her about-”



“Stop. Stop. All of you stop.” Fleetfoot stood up and kicked her chair away. “I’m not down with you ponies. I’m not your ally, or even your pal. I’m not going anywhere with any of you.” The throbbing pain at the back of her head was becoming insufferable. Gnash, though not emoting anything through the bond, was watching intently.  “I’m a Cloudsdale knight! I have a fundamental ideological opposition to your goals! We’re diametrically opposite!”

The smirk vanished from Nightmare Moon’s face. She sighed. With a certain annoyed laziness, she turned back to face Fleetfoot. They stared down for several moments, before Moon’s horn lit up with deep blue-purple magic and Fleet was lifted into the air by the scruff of her neck.
“Then why the hell do you think you can get a boon from us?” The dark alicorn rumbled. “Why do you think you can receive the goods without paying for them?”

Fleetfoot squeaked. “On credit?”

The alicorn snorted. “On credit.” She paced a little circle in the dark room, dragging Fleet by the scruff.  “Nopony gave me credit while I was fighting to where I am. I was fought tooth and nail and I still won out. You’d think I would expect the same resilience from others.” She knelt down, purring. “But I’m made of steel, and you’re not.”

Fleet tried not to gawk at the blue armor glinting in the moonlight. “Yes my lady.” She whispered.


Moon carried Fleet out of the room. “Good night Wreath.” She called back to the earth pony, before shutting and locking his door. She continued on towards Fleetfoot’s room. "Truth be told, I don’t have the tools to cure you yet. That secret lies out of reach.”

“But…” Fleet mumbled.

“I believe the Ritual is itself a mimicry of a greater kind of harmony. Astral Nacre is copying a copy. If I uncover the full power of Harmony, there is no doubt I could cure you.” Nightmare Moon said, grinning. She let Fleetfoot stand and trot the last few steps into her own room. “With Harmony, many powers would be mine.”

Fleetfoot thought for a while. “I think Twilight Velvet is after the same thing.”

“And so are the Stars, and so is Sparkle, and so are other unknown actors. Everypony is chasing after Harmony whether they realize it or not.” Moon said. “It is like the last moments before the destruction of the ancient alicorns: The power lies before us, and we may attempt to claim it, or maybe we will be destroyed.”

“Right…” Fleet glanced away.  The feeling of Rain Gnash watching had receded. The link was getting muddied again. Fleet felt doubly frustrated and used now.  “I’m going to go to bed.”

“Do.” Moon bowed. “Until next time.”
The black alicorn reared up, and for a terrifying moment Fleetfoot was afraid she was going to be crushed, but Nightmare Moon covered herself with her wings and disappeared in a shimmer of shadow and deep purple magic.



In the immediate aftermath, Fleetfoot fell back on her bed and wondered if she had been dreaming. The longer the lay, the more her thoughts went back to prying at the psychic link, trying to get any response at all from Gnash, any sign she was heard.
Fleet did not get a response.
Fleet was starting to feel very unwanted and, in turn, having the simmering resentment in her belly burn ever more painfully.









When Sel Lech arrived at the flashpoint the shootout had reached a lul, both sides realizing they weren’t accomplishing much.
One of the last groups of rebel militiaponies had barricaded themselves into one of the many decaying tenements in the Inner City. This particular one was surrounded by shorter buildings, giving the rebels a clear view of the approaches. In the dead of night it was hard to see anything, let alone ponies creeping at windows nearly a hundred hooves up.  But the darkness cut both ways, and Sel could safely get to friendly lines without being shoot at.

On the regime side, a few barricades had been built to give safer firing positions. The purple knights had been joined by a group of local volunteers, who were helping plink at the building with their personal guns. Sel didn’t know who these new allies were, but they looked like commoners, and Inner City natives to boot. Why these reclusive and usually apolitical slum dwellers were helping the authorities escaped Sel. Some of them gave Sel dirty looks- Were they the same ponies who had been hurling accusations at him during the Council of Ponies?

“Captain.” One of the purple knights galloped to him. The knights had ditched their gleaming silvery plate armor with the garish purple capes, to wear something lighter but no less practical in a fight: Slim cuirasses with bulletproof reinforced breastplates, worn over a thick buff coat, with a barred helmet and metal horseshoes. The ensemble revealed more around the knights’ faces, but not enough to reveal the discolorations and stitching that began just below the throat. Just in case, the knights wore dark capes that covered their hindquarters past the buff coat. 

“The Old Town has been cleared out. The remaining rebels have dispersed throughout the Inner City.” Sel didn’t know why he was explaining anything  to the essentially egoless knight. They didn’t even have names unless, like the incident in the plaza, they were miraculously recognized from their past life. “If we loosen our cordon, the remaining committed rebels may try to get into the tower. Then all the fish will be in the same barrel.”
Sel had ditched his armor for a very light coat. With all the running he’d been doing he would have been well past exhaustion if he’d worn more. Still with how cold the night was getting he wished he’d worn something thicker, like the knights. “Then, once we’re sure the rest of the city is clear, every available pony can help storm the building.”

“Yes captain, but…” The knight hesitated. “What if the rebels inside the tower escape out instead? Have you consulted Lady Velvet about this plan?”

Sel was both amused and annoyed to be second-guessed by a robot. “Yes I’ll admit we don’t have the ponypower to fight a guerrilla war in the row houses, unless our friends want to help.” Sel nodded to the volunteers squatting at the barricade. “I’ll start consulting the higher-ups if the plan goes wrong. And it won’t be Lady Velvet, It will be Lady Astral.”

“Yes captain. I will pass word along. We will try to be conspicuous about where we leave the gaps.” The purple knight said.


“Good lad.” Sel nodded. While the knight galloped off, Sel crouched at the barricade to get a better look at his volunteer allies.
The closest mare was wearing a big black jacket over a laborer’s outfit, topped off with a wrinkle cap. She cradled a worn jezail, a gun so long it poked above the barricade. “Hello mis.” Sel greeted quietly.

“Good evening yer worship.” The mare grunted, barely bothering to make eye contact.

“That’s a very interesting weapon.” Sel noted. “You look comfortable with it.”

“He and I got familiar in Griffany.” The mare said, turning the jezail to show off the intricate metalwork. Sel couldn’t quite make it out in the meagre light but there was what looked like a row of notches scratched into the grip.

Griffany veteran was a special caste of Equestrian expat, usually mercenaries or ideologically driven vigilantes. “Huh. Take part in some wars then?”

The mare rolled her eyes as if to say ‘duh’.  “A couple.”

“Any in particular?”

“Out east mostly.” The mare said.

East Griffany, the most dysfunctional and violent region of a dysfunctional and violent continent. However very mercenaries made it out that far, sticking mostly to the wealthier western and Kestrel regions.
Which meant the mare was probably a radical revolutionary who volunteered with the warbands and communes in that region. Griffany exiled any griffin with even suspected egalitarian or democratic views to the East and over time they’d formed their own societies, to engage in bloody border clashes with with feudal states, raiding nomads, or colonial expeditions.
Sel felt uneasy being near such a mare, even if she was on his side. Revolutionaries by and large hated nobles, hated the government, and most of all hated the guards.  But it occurred to Sel that most of Twilight Velvet’s victims so far were nobles, imperial officials, and guards.
“Good looking out, mis. We’ll give these bourgeois bastards a rough time of it.” Sel said.

“Course we will, your worship. Now bundle off. You’ll draw attention.” The mare hissed at him.


Sel took the message, moving away to the next barricade.  It looked like the same story. Most of the volunteers he saw were commoners in the same black jackets who had brought their own weapons. “This is weird. I have to ask Lady Velvet about this.”

“Captain, we being flanked!” Some pony yelled from across the street.
Less than a second later, deafening gunfire erupted from behind and above them.

“Damn!” Sel threw himself to the ground, bruising his stomach on the worn cobble. “The rebels are coalescing on us!” He did not relish being unexpectedly shot at for the second time in a day.

The volunteers were cool under fire. The repositioned to get better cover on their barricades and returned fire, their mix-and-match of weapons sending lead balls into the upper stories of the nearby buildings.
A few minutes later, the firing wound down again. Another lul.

“Did you see where the ambushers were?” Sel whispered to the volunteer mare.

“That row house with the boards on the ground floor I think.” The mare kept her attention down the crude sight of her jezail.  “They’re not going to stay there for long if they have any sense.”

Sel signaled to the nearest knights, and three of them sprinted towards the indicated building, hopping from cover to cover.  Sel waited a few seconds to see if anyone fired on them before he followed.  They four, Sel and the three knights, pressed themselves against the wall of the boarded up row house.
“We have to be quick. Note if they have an officer, because he might know their plans.” Sel hissed. “Go!”

The first knight turned and bucked the boarded-up window, sending an explosion of splinters into the dark ground floor. Yelps of confusion rang out, which quickly turned to aggression and panic as the other knights jumped through the gap, their dark capes fluttering, and began cutting rebels down.
Sel counted a few seconds and jumped through the door, flanking the remaining rebel and kicking a dent in his head.

“Some fled back up the stairs, the others through the back door!” A knight yelled.

“You two go after the runners.” Sel said. He galloped to the stairway to the upper floor, but a poorly aimed shot blasted apart the step near his hoof, and he retreated back around the wall. “They’re know we’re coming.” He muttered. The knight that had stayed with him waited for his order. “Know any magic?”

“Her ladyship taught some of us destruction magic, myself included.” The knight reported. It wasn’t clear if he meant Astral or Velvet, not that it mattered.

“Set the stairs on fire. We can’t get bogged down here.” Sel said. “Do that and rendezvous back at the barricades.”  The order given, Sel galloped for the back door.
The darkened ally behind the row houses was filled with debris and garbage. The two purple knights had pounced on a few stragglers, but it looked like most of the rebels involved in the ambush had gotten away.

Fortunately, one of the stragglers had a scrap of paper tucked into his collar.
“No luck at Green Park, evacuated. Fischer’s took a mare and her foal. Trying to meet up at the tower.” The purple knight read it out.

“It’s not code. It’s very literal. They were trying to take hostages from the Inner City ponies, maybe to keep us from burning them out, maybe to promote a wider revolt.” Sel mused. “It doesn’t matter, because like I’d hoped they’re converging on the tenement.”

Echoing gunshots sounded out from the North, then from the East. These were not deliberate ambushes, Sel realized, but accidental encounters as the rebels tested the routes the regime wasn’t guarding.


By the time Sel had made it back to the barricades, his reinforcements had arrived. The knights and loyal militias had finished sweeping the Old Town, and had come to finish the fight.
Behind them, the fire in the row house had begun to burn in earnest, spreading to the upper floors. There was no screaming though. Perhaps the rebels had risked their legs and ankles and made the jump out the windows.

“Lady Velvet conveys her confidences in you.” The lead knight reported. “And she bids you good night.”

“Good night and sweet dreams to her too.” Sel said. “This is the last big point of resistance. Our forces are gathered at three points, two flanking the main entrance on this main street, one at the back. We will begin the assault very soon.”

“Except they’ve seen what you’ve got in store for them.” The volunteer mare remarked from the sidelines, nodding to the burning row house. “They’ll fight tooth and nail for the ground floor.”

“Fine by me. If they all die in the initial assault then I won’t have to burn the tenement down.” Sel said. “Divide yourselves up between the points. Swords, pistols, and blunderbusses for the assault, and arquebuses to support and suppress.” He turned to the volunteers. “You ponies will probably want to stay out of the way. There are a few good vantage points in the buildings overlooking the entrances.”

“Certainly, your worship.” The mare said. The other volunteers mumbled their agreement.

“Then let’s do it. We go in five minutes.” Sel pronounced.



Sel Lech ditched his tunic. It was time for heavier gear now, a mail hauberk to protect against grazing sword strikes, a reinforced cuirass that would provide at decent defense against shot, and a burgonet helmet. He attached his sword at his waist, but decided to take a blunderbuss as well- He was unfamiliar with the truncated gun, but he’d been told they were notorious at sea, where marines would fire them in close-quarter ship boarding actions. Time to test them out.

“Two minutes.” He announced to the ponies around him. He fixed his burgonet’s visor and slid it down. “To positions.”


The tenement was dark and silent. Now and then shadows moved by the windows as the rebels inside moved around with torches or lanterns. There were almost two-hundred ponies holed up in the building by Sel’s estimate, as many as had died during the massacre of the Estates. Last time, Sel had been a follower. Now he was in charge. He was deciding ponies’ destinies, their lives and their deaths.

Every purple knight in the city, about a hundred, plus the two-dozen volunteers, and another fifty or so loyal militia ponies, stood at arms under Sel’s command. By conventional logic, attacking a prepared position as he was would require at least three-to-one numbers. The rebels were probably leaning on that fact.
But they were about to come to a rude realization, to why their little rebellion was an inconvenience instead of a death blow for Twilight Velvet’s regime.

“One minute. Get ready!” Sel commanded. He stood tense against the wall, just out of sight of the tenement. A dozen knights stacked up behind him, while other clustered at different positions, all ready to charge.

Those rebel militiaponies had been under Sel’s command too, less than a day ago. What had compelled them to revolt? Would it happen again?

“Steady…” Sel checked his blunderbuss’s powder pan. He was cocked and ready to go. “Ten… nine...”

Everypony counted the seconds together in their head, tensing. The knights drew their swords or readied their guns. The militiaponies clutched their weapons anxiously. The path to victory was clear, but there would first be violence and bloody toil. Some of them would die in service to Canterlot.

“Let’s go!” Sel bellowed. He rounded the corner and hauled ass towards the tenement. Yips and shouts from behind him as his guard jumped out of cover to follow him. Yips and shouts in front of him, as the second group began their charge to converge with him on the front door.
The first gunshots came from the volunteers, using their position in the buildings to suppress the rebels. A few shots responded, and Sel saw pony silhouettes from the flashes of the rebels’ guns.

Unlike the row house, the windows of the tenement’s ground floor were not easily accessible. There was just the one big door that led into the entry hallway. No doubt, the rebels were waiting to gun down whoever tried to come through that way.
Sel reached the tenement and pressed himself against the wall right next to the door. He checked his blunderbuss again. Moment of truth.

In one motion, Sel eased around the door frame, pushing it open and leveling the blunderbuss up the hall. It was grimy and black in the tenement, but Sel could see the glint of the light off the rebels’ guns, pointed at him from the opposite side of the hall.
“For Canterlot!” He yelled, pulling the trigger. The blunderbuss went off with a monstrous retort, sending ten lead balls hurtling into the bodies of the hesitating rebels.  The effect, Sel could tell, was gruesome, for even before the screams of pain he saw the outrageous sprays of blood pass through the light.
Sel dove back behind around the door frame. A moment after, the purple knights in his group reached him, charging into the hall, firing off their own guns and closing to sword range.

On the higher floors the rebels were overcoming their shyness and were peppering the street with gunfire, or trying to counter-snipe the volunteers. The loyalist militiaponies kept their guns trained on the lower floors and picked off the rebels that tried to peek out.

“Make a ladder up!” Sel ordered. Not a literal ladder, but a pony ladder. Groups of knights bunched up under the inaccessible windows, boosting each other until one could reach and climb in. They repeated the process, pouring in through every window facing the street.

It was getting louder as the chaos escalated. Dozens of knights and rebels were locked in combat on the ground floor, as guns fired off and dying ponies screamed for help. Squeal and then a thud, as a rebel sniper fell through their window and tumbled four floors to the cobblestone.

“Hallway is clear captain!” A shout cut through the din.

Sel, just finishing reloading his blunderbuss, heeded the call and followed the next group of knights in through the entry hall. The darkness had been broken by several torches, but the light was still woefully inadequate. Yet it was enough to see unfolding battle that filled the ground floor, the knights methodically advancing through the resistance. Cries of confusion had joined other shouts, as the rebels gradually realized that yes, their on-target shots against the purple knights had not killed them, or even slowed them down.  The purple knights, with bullet holes in their torso or missing chunks of their limbs, kept on the attack, heedless of their pain.
Sel wondered what it was like? How did the knights feel? Were they even conscious or was it just puppetry? He imagined the knights perceived their surroundings like a dream. How whimsical and fantastical they must have understood their new world, their new lives.

“We broke in faster than they were expecting! Secure the stairs! Trap them on the high floors!” Sel shouted out.

He fired his blunderbuss in the general direction of the rebels, but he found he couldn’t charge in.  His legs wouldn’t take him forward. He blinked. The screams, the blood…
He saw it again, his sword slicing through the throats of the Speakers in the throne room. He could feel the splashes as he stepped through pools of blood to get to the next victim. The pools became a sea. He closed in on another Speaker, a mare, begging for her life. Sel stabbed her in the shoulder, then when she fell over, repeatedly stabbed her in the chest. Over and over… The murder continued around him but Sel didn’t move on from the dead mare until she was almost sawed in two.

Sel didn’t come back to his senses for some time. When the visions receded he saw he’d been pulled outside the front door and laid next to other wounded ponies. With a groan, Sel sat, up shaking off the great nausea he felt. Were Blueblood, or Aurthora, or the others haunted by that awful night, like he was? Sel knew the chaos in the tenement would join the throne room in his nightmares, yet another horrible moment that refused to to be forgot.

“Ah, captain.” One of the purple knights noticed he was awake. “The ground floor is nearly cleared. The rebels have barricaded some of the rooms as well as the stairs. We’re trying to dislodge them with guns.”

“Doesn’t matter. If we hold enough of the ground floor we can begin demolition. Move our gunpowder into the center of the building and start setting fires.” Sel ordered. He got up. “Were there any sign of hostages?”

“No sir. If there were any, they are on higher floors.”

Sel Lech sighed. “Gods have mercy on them. Make sure to bring the wounded when we withdraw.”



The denouement of the battle was quick and precise. Two large gunpowder barrels were rolled in through the entry, and the knights began to quickly retreat from the building, carrying any allies too wounded to retreat on their own. Sel led them back to the barricades, while the volunteers and miltiaponies kept up the covering fire.

Not long after, the blast. The lower floor window of the tenement bloomed red, and then the roar of the explosion and the shake of the shockwave. Fire spread upwards quickly, but before the whole tower burned the damage of the blast proved itself, and the whole structure caved into itself. A plume of wood, plaster, smoke and embers shot up into the sky as the tenement collapsed and burned. Several of the adjacent row houses caught alight, the last victims of the militia rebellion.

“Find the nearest well. Put out those fires.” Sel ordered tiredly. “Transport the wounded to the University Hospital. They’re expected.”

Sel sat back while things happened around him. The volunteers turned in their unused gunpowder and disappeared into the alleys. The loyalist militiaponies mumbled amongst themselves for a while, exhausted but proud, before trickling back towards their homes in the Old Town. The knights made quick patrols to make sure every single rebel had indeed died in the blast and subsequent collapse, then dispersed, either to continue tireless watch over Canterlot, or to retire to Astral Nacre’s workshop to be repaired.

“On the event of your success, Lady Velvet bade I confirm her congratulations.” One of the knights said.

“Yes, congratulations to me.” Sel said, smiling humorlessly. “I feel like all I did was stop a backwards slide. It’s success, but it wasn’t satisfying. Just… depressing. I don’t know. I trusted those ponies. Why did they make me do this?”

“It is the season of war, captain. We all choose our own paths.” The knight said stoically. Ironic coming from one such as him, Sel thought.

“Sure. We chose and live with the price. But can there be real choice when the consequences are so steep?” Sel cast a tired eye to the smoldering pile that had been the tenement. “It’s only an illusion of choice.” He sighed. “Well whatever. Anything else before I close the book on this one?”


“Yes sir, there is one thing I neglected to mention, captain. Lady Velvet has a list of ponies she would like you to visit tonight, after the rebels were dealt with.” The knight pulled a folded sheet of paper from his belt. “She emphasizes nothing fatal. They only need to be reminded that the law is the law.”

“The law is the law.” Sel repeated. “Sure. I’ll go around with a few boys and talk to these troublemakers in turn.” He tucked the sheet away. He looked up at the moon. “It’s late.”

“Yes sir.” The knight agreed.

“Or early depending on your perspective. I think I’ll be sleeping in. I’ve earned it.” Sel said to himself. He laughed a bit.

It was very silent, as everypony got to their somber tasks. Certainly nopony laughed along with Sel.








“...and you might say, the franchise is limited. Yes. In the Free Cities only the citizens within the tiers of land ownership can vote. But what is voting?  It is common knowledge that the most productive ponies, the ponies with the most invested in the success and stability of society, make the best choices.”

The second day of the Council of Ponies was much much more subdued than the first. Velvet had not changed the rules of the event, and nothing about the stage or crowd had changed. But there were no militiaponies, and several ponies on the Council were gone, conspicuously the middle class commoners from the Old Town. A mix of nobles and Inner City commoners had replaced them, including an old earth pony with a big beard.  Sel Lech was also missing, his seat being taken by some other bored-looking unicorn stallion in a uniform.
The biggest change was the atmosphere. A dark cloud hung over them from the previous day’s events. Nopony shouted up from below.

Therefore, the fat merchant speaking before the crowd went uncontested, even though almost none of them agreed with him, and even though his middle-class message had been thoroughly discredited by the militiaponies’  bungled revolt. Nopony was going to put power in the hooves of the lawyers and shopkeepers, since they had proven untrustworthy with guns in their hooves.


“To those of you yearning for a vote?  Enrichissez-vous! Prove your dedication to society, and it will reward you with responsibility. In business as in politics! This is the logical conclusion of citizenship! The larger the struggle to attain the vote, the more valuable it will be to you, and the more responsibly you will use it.”
The fat merchant turned to the upper stage. “Thank you, my Prelate, for giving me this time.”

Unicorn Prelate Springwise nodded absently. “Sure.” He shifted in his seat. “Next speaker please.”



A stuffy looking noble jumped up on the stage. He pulled a sheet of paper out of his vest, which produced an audible grown from the crowd.
“The noble concerns are threefold. First, where did the legitimacy of this body come from. Empress Celestia, by her rights as divinely ordained sovereign, convened her court and all satellite institutions in accordance to holy law. That being an a priori FACT, we wonder if these decedent departures from the princess’s system are not heresy. Indeed do we contradict divine law by being here at all? Even ignoring the possibility of our trespass, we secondly consider the dangers of this court. How can there be a court without a sovereign? This whole venture strays into democracy! And we all know democracy is nothing but the onset of revolution, terror, anarchy, and the end of society!”

The speaker paused to read down his his notes.

“Lastly, and we tremble to say this, but we believe this Council of Ponies is too closely intertwined with the events of the collapse of the old, the massacre of the Estates, and the Eternal Night. We do not believe that if an impartial examination of the Eternal Night is to be made, Lady Twilight Velvet and her allies will not be the ones to make it.” He put away his notes. “Make of our warning what you will, ponies of Canterlot. Commoner and noble, we are veering away from tradition! Realize what this means to you! Yes, think on it. Think on it, all.”

There was some applause from the front rows of the crowd, where Upper Crust and her groupies were standing.


Prelate Springwise “Anypony else want to speak? We have a few minutes-  Okay, looks like somepony from the back wants to speak.”

A lone commoner was pushing their way onto the stage, weathering the light jeers of the nobles he passed on them. 


He began quietly.
“The days had become monotonous shadows of months past, like nothing had changed except in the minor details. Details like soldiers with purple capes patrolling the streets. Details like the abandoned and gutted Musician’s Guild, Opera House, and Canterlot Castle. Details like the hundreds of lumps in the castle gardens green, where the grass was slowly starting to regrow.
“A fog a caution and cynicism had descended over Canterlot. Lady Twilight Velvet’s presence was everywhere, so one only had to shift their gaze slightly to see a pair purple eye staring back at them.
“Where has our princess gone? Where have our princesses gone? Ask yourselves that.”

The commoner hopped off the stage and waded back out of the crowd.



“I want some of what he’s on.” Ripple Wreath laughed to himself.

Fleetfoot wasn’t as amused. “Was that guy a plant?” She glanced back at Twilight Velvet, but the Lady Regent was beginning to doze off. “Maybe. I feel foreshadowed.”

“I don’t think that’s how that word is used.” Wreath said.




With the perambulatory speeches finally out of the way, Unicorn Prelate Springwise stood up. “Everypony has said what they want to? Any further points, questions, or such?”

It was rare to get a hundred ponies in a sacred temple to be as quiet as the thousand assembled in the plaza were being.

“Okay then. The Council of Ponies can commence its originally intended role.” Springwise said. “As per announcements this morning from the Lady Regent, certain new facts about the massacre of the Estates, uncovered during the continuing unraveling of the attempted rebellion yesterday, has put necessitated pushing back the date of the case of the revolutionary conspirators in the city guard. The Lady Regent has moved them from the city dungeon to house arrest in the interim. Supervised visitation is allowed.”

This unexpected news was met by soft murmurs in the crowd. Everypony had been expecting the Council to throw the book at the revolutionaries to prove its resolve to other would-be revolts.

“As such, this council will open with the trail of Hot Take.” Prelate Springwise said. “Lady Regent Twilight Velvet brought the charges, and has agreed to personally conduct the initial questioning.”

Twilight Velvet rose from her seat. “Thank you, Unicorn Prelate.” She hopped down to the lower level of the stage. At her motion, two knights led a prisoner up from the back- Hot Take was a heavily built but otherwise average unicorn stallion, with dark blue fur and greying pink mane. His fine attire was disheveled from several days in a cell, but he’d clearly made attempts to look nice, so far as one could while imprisoned.
“Hot Take has been brought before the Council of Ponies to answer to charges of conspiracy to revolt, slander, fraud, selling outside of guild rules, tax fraud, heresy, and anti-Canterlot activities.”

The guards gave Hot Take a little space, and he dusted himself off before facing the crowd. “The Lady Regent has accused me of more things than I think I should ever be able to accomplish in my life. I am a boring stallion, a business stallion, and I stick to my business.”

“You business was information and communication, and even when boring that can be used to nefarious ends.” Velvet said. “Are you pleading Not Guilty?”

Hot Take paused for a while. “Yes my lady, I think that I shall. I assert that I am not guilty of any of those crimes.”


Twilight Velvet levitated a scroll from beside her seat. “You are a printer’s son, apprenticed with her for years, and took over the business on her death.”

“That’s the way of things.” Hot Take agreed. “I am a guild member, certified. Or I was before this strange business with suspending the guilds and clubs.”

“Yes, we can get to that later. I want to focus on your apprenticeship first.” Velvet said. “You had many dubious friends during that time, it’s said.”

“I was young and didn’t have many responsibilities, so I did what most stallions with plenty of time do.” Hot Take offered. “I had a little troupe I ran with, yes, one of many on the Old Town streets in those years. We got into all the kinds of trouble that young ponies do. I openly admit it.”

“Yes surely. But you took printing work from them.” Velvet said, more sharply. “You were uniquely positioned to amplify your friend’s voices.”

Hot Take was decided this was the point he was going to stop helping tell Velvet’s narrative. He remained silent.

“Among your friends, several notorious anti-feudal activists. They became notorious, actually, through the pamphlets they distributed. You helped print those pamphlets.”

“They weren’t illegal at the time.” Hot Take protested with a grumble.

“Not specifically. Your actions helped make them illegal.” Velvet said. “I assume that was the event that gave you a taste for the riskier side of printing and publishing.”

“That’s too vague a claim to comment.” Hot Take said.


“Then we go on.” Velvet unrolled a portion of the scroll. “Your masterpiece, which you submitted to the Printer’s Guild as proof of mastery, is this twenty foot scroll. You printed with images and embellishments reminiscent of illuminated manuscripts- it’s very well done by the way- a treste by the late political theorist Grey Matters.”

“How did you… That was in the Printer’s Guild hall.” Hot Take scowled. “They almost didn’t accept it.”

“Masterpieces are supposed to be on the mediocre side, and this is far from mediocre. If I’m not mistaken, this treste was still unpublished before you made this, which means you had direct access to Grey Matters.” Velvet continued to unroll the scroll. “This was one of the first academic works describing class and market formation in the Free Cities. You must have been enchanted by this pony telling you what you’d always been feeling, but were never able to articulate in the paradigm: You have different political motivation to the merchants, to the peasants, to the laborers. It was inadequate to lump you together as ‘commoner’.”

Hot Take was silent again.

“And so you immured yourself, as both a printer and a pony of Canterlot, into the ‘middle class’ identity. You have spent the last decades honing this style of language.” Velvet rolled the scroll back up, levitated it back to her seat, and pulled back several stacks of posters and pamphlets.  “Two years ago, you started ‘Takes on Canterlot’, an unapologetic ‘middle class’ serial paper.  It was in Takes on Canterlot you published the article that made the rounds last year, ‘The Artisans are Empress Celestia’s Strongest Supporters’.”

“Yes that sold well.” Hot Take admitted.

“I won’t delve into the details. I think the crowd and the Council can begin to see your motivations.”

Hot Take pursed his lips. “Motivations for what?”

“For backing what you hoped would be a quick beheading of the noble class.” Twilight Velvet smirked. “I’m not going to stand here and go through every poster and pamphlet. Knowing what you do about your own work, and inferring about which of them I might have chosen today, do you think you would be able to contest my assertion that you were rabble-rousing against the Canterlot nobility?”

“That’s a very different question than if I was was actually rabble-rousing.” Hot Take grumbled. “But no. I would not be able to contest you.”


Velvet grinned. She turned to the crowd. “The massacre of the Estates, though from what sordid corner of Canterlot the murderers bubbled, were doubtlessly inspired by an overly-permissive atmosphere, where criticism and defamation could be made without fear of retribution. Year after year of criticism of the imperial government and imperial policy might have been profitable for ponies like Hot Take, but it cost the Estates their lives.”

“I wanted reform, not revolution. This is outrageous!” Hot Take exploded, having enough of Velvet’s accusations. “I’m just a printer! Any pony observing politics as long as I have would have a record like mine. Why have you singled me out?”

Vlevet ignored him. “Would anypony like to step up and offer a defense of the accused, better than they are currently defending themselves?”

The crowd was still and silent.

Velvet chuckled to herself. She turned now to the Council of Ponies. “Is there more any of you wish to hear? Do you venture a verdict?”


Prelate Springwise leaned forward in his chair. “Umm, is the council ready to vote on a verdict? Simple show of hooves please.”

Every single hoof among the seated ponies went up.

“Keep your hooves up if you deem the accused, Hot Take, guilty.” Springwise said, throwing a glance to Velvet.


A few hooves went down, including Fleetfoot’s, but the majority were still up.

Velvet waved her purple knights over, and they took Hot Take back in hoof. “Hot Take, your press will be stewarded by the Inner Circle until your reconciliation to Canterlot. You will be held in the dungeon until completion of our reconciliation facility.”


Hot Take was dragged away, his face solemn. Everypony else was confused. What was a reconciliation facility? Many of them were expecting a pony to come up with a gun and blow away Hot Take right in front of everypony.

Velvet returned to her chair, passing the scrolls and papers she’d used as props to an awaiting servant who carried them away.


“That was exciting.” Prelate Springwise cleared his throat. “Next, the Council of Ponies will be conducting the trial-in-absentia of the deceased perpetrators of the massacre of the Estates. The crimes that destroyed the general peace will be laid bare! Exciting. Then after a break, all new indictments against ponies in connection to the Estates massacre, and in connection to yesterday’s revolt. The Lady Regent promised me that she will deliver those new names soon. In the afternoon, the trial in absentia of Princess Cadenza, for dereliction of her duties to the ponies of Canterlot.  The Lady Regent has also indicated to me she may bring indictments against certain members of the Imperial Council in connection to the dereliction case. Then this evening we open up the stage for you, Canterlot, to bring forward your cases to be judged. So stick around for that everypony. You’re all being very good citizens.”








Deep below Canterlot, dark and silence. The Vacuous Arcanum was getting more visitors in the last month than it got over the course of a century, but its devouring silence retained its strength.
Nightmare Moon glided soundlessly around the crumbled remains of the shattered statue golems. They were fractured, the necromantic binding that had given them life destroyed beyond recovery or scrutiny.

To understand Celestia, holistically, her work down there in the dark was just as necessary to understand as her work up above, in the light of Canterlot. Nightmare Moon had to admit the late sun princess brought her usual level of competence and fitness to Dark work as her usual projects. Indeed the statue golems had done their job for hundreds of years, keeping Agana protected but still imprisoned. But still, they had been no good against a full strength nightmare.


A dry crunch underhoof, the grey remnants of a thick creeper vine. Moon followed it to the center of the broken statue garden.  She came to the grant column, spanning floor to roof, that had served as Agana’s crucifix for nearly a millennium. All the vines spouting from that hollow column were dead and grey.
And slightly to the side of that vast pillar, the remnants of the prisoner.

“Agana…  Rest in peace old girl.” Nightmare Moon, voice tinged with irony.  The peacock alicorn had been mutilated nearly beyond recognition, with how Ripple Wreath had eaten into her guts.  The corpse smelled very strange, not at all like rotted meat. It tempted Moon. She almost wanted to take a bite herself, or perhaps crack open Celestia’s sarcophagus and try a bite of her.

But this ancient secret was still only the very edge of the Vacuous Arcanum. A vast, deep place awaited her, in the center of the Mountain. It was called the arcanum after all, and the grave of Starswirl and Clover’s research.

“Celestia didn’t go any farther than this. Not even Celestia the First returned to the center, once she and Luna destroyed it.” Moon said, staring into the abject black, seeing nothing.
For the first time since the end of the Eternal Night, she felt afraid. She couldn’t shake the feeling of smallness facing that inscrutable dark. She could understand Celestia staying away. To venture into that lost place, a forbidden vault with the weight of a mountain, literally billions of tons of stone and earth poised overhead like an executioner’s hammer…



But she had to start somewhere.
Moon started to walk into that empty space.



She walked for a long while.



Nightmare Moon came to a stop. She looked back from the direction she’d come, but saw no sight of the towering column or the broken statues.

“Not even gods dared tread this place.” Moon said to herself. “Myriadess told me that Clover and Starswirl were trying to perfect the ritual down here. But…  I don’t think that’s the whole truth. Myriadess only knew what the Twisted SInner told her. So I wonder, could there be a secret so grave that the Twisted Sinner would not tell her closest confidant? There must be. Something so unthinkable, even Anima Astral Nacre shied to speak of it.”


Moon resumed her steady stride. How unsettling it was, even for her, that no matter how far she walked nothing seemed to change. It was all the same featureless smooth black stone under her hooves, in a void that ate all light and sound.

Something was not right. Moon looked around again. Nothing there.

She kept walking.

The feeling did not go away. Moon closed her eyes, keeping her steady pace.




After who knew how long, the texture of the ground under her hooves changed.
Moon opened her eyes.

Before her, a vast arch, made of dark stone blocks quite unlike that that made the mountain. It was blocky, inelegant, but stern and sharp. It reminded Nightmare Moon of a Roanish triumphal arch, if that it lacked any carved relief images or words.

“A sign of civilization.” Moon said to herself. “Do you have a name?”

The huge arch did not answer.


Moon passed under the arch and continued on her trot.



Unexpectedly, Moon felt a tinge of discomfort in her stomach. She came to a stop, as surprised by the feeling. Was she hungry? Her stolen body should not have been able to feel hungry; It was moved by magic, not metabolism.
“I…  I didn’t bring any food with me.” Moon said to herself.  She had zero anticipation of needing food. She’d spent the last week since the end of the Eternal Night on no sleep, no food, no water, and had felt perfectly fine for it.
“Do alicorns need food? Celestia did. Agana didn’t seem to, and neither did Luna. Myriadess obviously didn’t.”

The questions she had couldn’t deflect from the fact that Nightmare Moon was definitely feeling hungry. Hunting pony dreams wasn’t going to satiate this hunger.
And yes, while Moon was frustrated, she felt a fluttering in her heart. Dead mares and ghosts didn’t need to eat. Hunger was a concrete sign she was, on some level, alive.

“I am beginning to be more than just this armor.” Moon whispered. “This is my body, well and truly.” She looked back, but there was no sign of the arch she had passed.

Or maybe her body was betraying her, lying to her, trying to keep her from going any farther into the accursed depths.

There was nothing for it. She had to retreat to the surface, get better prepared, and try again. Moon encased herself in magic and teleported back to the surface. Making a brief burst of light in the dark that flashed like a beacon across the vast empty cavern. Till it faded, and dark returned.









Sel Lech waited in Castle Magoria’s garden, enjoying the cool night air. True to his word, he’d woken up late, but after that he’d had a full day’s worth of errands and tasks, cleaning up the aftermath of the revolt. The running street battles in the Old Town hadn’t caused much damage, but most of the rebels had been from Old Town families, and tensions were running high there. Even more in the Inner city, where the attempted hostage taking and burned tenement had deeply upset them, but then again the impoverished poor ponies were used to being abused.

Fortunately, the revolt hadn’t fomented a wider revolt. By Sel’s reckoning, Canterlot was sick and tired of drama. They just wanted peace and order, and were proving very receptive to what Twilight Velvet and co were selling them.

That’s why there was a dinner being held that night at Castle Magoria, for Velvet’s Inner Circle to celebrate a the first successful day of the Council of Ponies. The day’s victims counted as such: Hot Take, several old imperial military officers, a couple imperial bureaucrats, and a few others had been decided guilty. Law had been laid down for all to see.


Sel had rushed to the castle as soon as he’d been notified of the dinner, but come to find out nopony else was there yet. Velvet’s maid had told him everypony else was still up by Canterlot Castle, running errands before dark.  So, Sel waited. Castle Magoria’s cozy inner garden felt strangely lonely, and it took a moment for Sel to pin why: No Foaly Flux. The late duke laughter, his jokes, and his banter had given the garden the atmosphere Sel was used to. Now it felt as barren as the dead tree at the center.
If it were possible to bring about Twilight Velvet’s new world without killing a single pony, Sel would have. This emptiness and loneliness from the absence of the ponies you knew and cared for was a sickly feeling that wore at one’s sanity. Now with the casualties from the revolt added to the massacre of the Estates, almost four-hundred ponies had died in Canterlot. Add to that the massacre at the Musician’s guild, five-hundred. And to take into account the destruction of the Cloudsdale fleet, almost a thousand!  That was a thousand homes missing a loved one, many thousands of ponies mourning the loss of a friend or companion.
Sel sighed. Great change was not for the light hearted. He promised himself he would become a pony worthy of the responsibility placed on him. One day at a time, he would steel his heart to idle thoughts and, like Velvet, become the uncompromising tool of the new vision of the future.



“Captain Sabornord.” A familiar psychic voice sounded in Sel’s head.  Astral Nacre descended from the darkening skies, landing in the dead tree at the center of the garden.  “Have you killed any ponies today?”

Sel had not interacted much with Astral Nacre since the Eternal Night ended. Velvet and the others claimed she had mellowed slightly from her behavior, whatever that meant. Sel was understandably still off-put by her. “Yes my lady. I did not relish it. Something weird has been going on. Ponies I thought I could trust tried to destroy me any my liege. It’s like they went crazy.”

“Nopony has been able to explain what that word, ‘crazy’, means to them. They say it’s when a pony is not acting right, because of a disturbance in their brain. Aren’t all thoughts caused by disturbances in the brain? I don’t think there’s any difference between one or the other. It's all distortion and fire in there. But ponies want to write off behavior they can’t explain, or maybe behavior they don’t like, and call it insane.” Astral said.

“Yes my lady.” Sel nodded, not really paying attention to her words.

“Up till now, the militiaponies you thought were loyal happened to have that one particular disturbance in their brain, which chugged along and made them act how you wanted. Then, for some reason or perhaps no reason at all, that disturbance in their brains changed, and they became disloyal.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Lady Astral. However, I hope there are other answers that can keep it from happening again.” Sel Lech said, his best euphemism for calling out useless drivel.

Astral’s furless flesh rippled as she effected a shrug. “I have been short on time these last few days, but I could help you. Bring the dead militiaponies to me and I will investigate.” She pawed at the air, mimicking digging into something. “It won’t hurt to look. A quick peek inside those ponies, and perhaps the cause of the rebellion will reveal itself.”

“Umm…” Sel shivered to imagine Astral Nacre tearing open the corpses and rummaging around in them, pointlessly trying to find a biological reason for very psychological motivations. “I’ll send one along if I think I can get away with it. I’m already under a lot of scrutiny. The relatives of the dead are not pleased at all.”

Astral’s tendril tail flicked around idly.

Sel cleared his throat. “I heard you have started working out of Canterlot Castle. Is that where I should send the bodies?”

“Yes, behind the barracks entrance. I have taken one of the modest cupboards near the alchemy laboratory to be my office.” Astral said. “If the knights there rebuff you, tell them I sent you.”

“I was going to delegate, but sure.” Sel leaned back into the grass. As tempted as he was to see where Astral was doing her grisly work, her having been more or less evicted from the Opera House, he knew better. “I’ve got to ask though…  The purple knights…  You’ve had nearly a hundred percent success rate with them. I mean, they were barely able to walk before, and now they can walk, talk, and fight! That’s a lot of improvement. How did you do it?”

Astral bristled. “It is not very difficult to create a pony out of a pony. I could make a working pony out of sticks and mud if I wanted! Make no mistake, I will go back to trying to create perfection once I train my skills and magic. Call those works zombies or lobotomites if you wish, but to me they were evidence of unwavering resolve to built to ultimate truth.”

Sel knew he wasn’t going to get an answer. He didn’t care that much anyway. The purple knights Astral had made were seemingly beyond reproach, loyal and strong, if not that smart or skilled. They would last beyond militias and allies of convenience. “I apologize if I caused offense, Lady Astral.”

“Hmm.” Astral grunted.



From the opposite side of the garden came the creak of the gates opening. Blueblood and Aurthora had arrived. Blueblood locked eyes with Sel from across the garden, hesitated, but continued at Aurthora’s urging.

“Exciting day today?” Sel asked lazily.

“Old Canterlot has been buried! We have begun building the new Canterlot.” Aurthora said smugly. “The rest of Equestria will come to destroy what we are building, and they might even exile us from our city for a time. It won’t matter, because this is the day we won!”

Blueblood seemed less enthusiastic. “The nobles are restless. Upper Crust is trying to hold them together to assert political pressure, but other want violence. They don’t know what happened yesterday any more than we do, but they sure think it massively weakened us.”

“Nothing could be further from the truth.” Sel remarked. Like Velvet had ordered him, he had gone around to everypony on her list and intimidated them. It was nothing violent, or even impolite, just that when Sel arrived with a gang of knights to inform you that you’re on the Lady Regent’s list, fresh off killing hundreds of rebels, the intended meaning got across. Sel could say with confidence most of the ponies he’d talked to would not need a second visit.
And the stubborn ones would face the Council of Ponies sooner or later.


“I hope so.” Blueblood kicked at the ground, his eyes darting around. “Sel… I have to ask you, stallion to stallion, did you stage the militia revolt?”

Sel arched a brow. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“I’d know better than try it.” Blueblood was clearly very nervous. “The Blackhorn militia was my coat rack since before Lady Velvet recruited me. Provoking them to revolt and destroying them has orphaned me. Sel… I…” Blueblood nibbled his lip. “I don’t feel good about my chances one you actually start acting on your resentments for me.”

“I don’t resent you. I just think you’re a prick with no redeeming qualities.” Sel scoffed.

“I want to remedy that.” Blueblood said. “I don’t want this to turn into a fight.”

“Then you surrender?” Sel asked.

“Don’t be an ass. I’m trying to play nice here.” Blueblood sighed. “I don’t want you breathing down my neck while I’m building a new network.”

Sel did not know why the pretentious prince was admitting his weakness. Did Blueblood think being humble was going to get him credit at this point?
“Want my friendship? Then when the time comes, you will be taking the fall for the murder of those Inner City commoners at Canterlot Castle.” Sel leaned forward. “You’ll survive it. You might not even see in inside of a cell. But you’ll take that fall. Hell, it might even boost your reputation with your noble friends.”

Blueblood blinked rapidly, his lip curling in frustration.  “Cretin. You make ONE mistake, maybe the only mistake you’re fully responsible for… And you try to wash your hooves of it? Do you think you can erase your sin by foisting it on me?”

“We will see, won’t we.” Sel said.

Blueblood sucked in a breath, clucked his tongue, and shook his head. “Not today, Sel. You hold onto that for now. I thought we could be buddy-buddy. Clearly I have to watch my back.”

“You should have known that yesterday.” Sel smiled. “Do better, my prince.”


Aurthora, awkward to see infighting among her friends, sidestepped Sel and made for Castle Magoria’s keep. “Umm, you stallions play nice, please. Don’t compromise your duties to Canterlot.”

Blueblood looked like he had more to say, but he turned away, following Aurthora inside.



Sel tapped his hoof, casting a glance to Astral Nacre, still sitting in the tree. “Do you find pony games interesting?”

“Politics? No. May the stars be willing, you ponies will evolve past those things.” Astral croaked.

Sel laughed at this. “Not before I get better practice. One day, I’m going to be as clever at it as Lady Velvet?”

“To do what? Do you have a reason?” Astral asked. “Is there somepony you want to torture? Is there a policy or ideology you want to enforce? I’m not being smarmy here, I genuinely want to know. What drives you ponies?”


Sel Lech stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in his uniform. “Hmm. What can I say. I just like the aesthetic of power. The actual politics of power are secondary. I think you can strip down the flash and glamour of most ambitious ponies and see the same thing. This pony empire wasn’t built on charity. We were all nominally slaves to Celestia, our hierarchical better, but we were never under any illusion. Our society was a contrivance to help the god princess sleep well at night.” Sel shrugged. “I don’t want to reshape the world, beyond what Lady Velvet asks of me. In the long run, however, I know there’s no way to be truly safe from the whims and cruelties of the ponies on the top of the hierarchy, unless you are that one on top. All this is just…  a preemptive strike. I’m just protecting myself.” He trotted to the keep. “So, to answer you question, no, I have no ideology I want to enforce, because being in charge is my ideology.”

Astral stared at him.

Sel chuckled at her silence. “See you inside, my lady.” He pushed open the heavy keep door and let it clank closed behind him.

Astral Nacre sat in the tree for a while longer, thinking on Sel’s words. “I’m not sure I like ponies. They think too much.  …  Upsetting. Many of them don’t actually know what they want. They flail… ignorantly. Does Velvet feel the same way I do? Her master plan, at the end of it all, is to clear away that pony ignorance.”
She rumbled out a sigh. “Do I even know what I want?”




She felt a chill breeze swirl in the night air. Astral looked up into the night sky just in time to see the moon’s pale light flicker and dim.
It became very quiet.

Astral felt a glow of magical energy from behind her. Somepony had come to answer her questions.
“Lady Ancepanox. I was waiting for you to call on me.” Astral twisted her head around like an owl, to where the black alicorn was standing on the castle battlements.

“I had other preoccupations. Also, if you would please, address me by my title. Titles are important.” Nightmare Moon said rhaspily. The nightmare alicorn looked subtly different from the last time Astral had seen her. Her coat was smoother and more lustrous. Her mane glowed slightly, resisting the tug of gravity as it curled at her shoulders. Most interesting was her eyes, changed from the turqoise it had been into a glowing blue-purple.

“I hope you haven’t decided I’m beneath your attention.” Astral chirped. She felt stirrings of jealousy- The black alicorn answered to no pony or responsibility. Meanwhile Astral Nacre knew herself to be a pawn in Twilight Velvet’s politics…  Games, as Sel had put it. Games you ‘play nice’ at. Or not.  Indeed, Astral felt like she was being held back so lesser beings could have their fun with their games.

“For good or for ill, alicorns will always be within my notice.” Nightmare Moon said, striding slowly along the wall. “Especially you, Astral. You’re my sister, in a way. But so young, and with such strange views. I feel like it’s my responsibility to steer you to the right path.”


“I want to learn from you, but not like that.” Astral bowed her head. “Your mind works more like a pony’s.”

“Exactly.” Moon nodded.

Astral wasn’t sure what Nightmare Moon was getting at. “I was born to guide ponykind’s ascension. I intend fulfill my promise. If I didn’t it would be negligent.”

“That’s the big problem with alicorns, isn’t it. They literally can not conceive of themselves as anything other than moralkind’s stewards. For as long as alicorns and mortals have known about each other, we’ve been presuming to guide and shape their development. Even the extinction of the entire ancient alicorn race didn’t stop the manipulations! The arrogance is noxious.”

Astral cocked her head. Moon was hitting at all the doubts she’d been harboring. “Ancepanox, has something changed with you?”

“Yes. I became a dreamer.” Moon nodded. “Alicorns aren’t born with dreams. In fact, I’ve been told before that they were incapable of having them, but that was obviously a lie.”

Astral found those words oddly compelling. “Do I have one?”

Nightmare Moon transfixed her with an intense stare. Astral felt a tingling at the back of her head where brain should have been.  “Not yet.” Moon said finally.


Astral felt insulted, then angry, then depressed. It felt like she was being dismissed a brainless moron or some such, but the factualness of it hurt even more. She was an alicorn…  She could clearly exist without a dream. Why did she feel empty without one?  “Teach me.” She demanded.

“It obviously isn’t that simple. It has to be discovered, grown, found, or taken. And it can’t be just anything: Alicorn dreams don’t rest in the Dreamscape as they do for mortals. Our dreams manifest right here, in the physical world.” Moon pointed into the dark skies.  “On the moon. On the sun. In the past, in the future. Inside our own eyeball! Yes, our mental power courses around and within this planet. I half think the energy we call magic is the fluid blood of some other greater dream, owned by some other alicorn dreamer far grander than we can comprehend. So like I said, it isn’t that simple.”

“Ancepanox, you should take a break from thinking about dreams. I want to talk about something else.” Astral tensely. She felt more uncomfortable by the moment, a strange feeling for her. The roles between her and Ancepanxo had flipped since the last time: She was much less confident of herself and her purpose, Ancepanox much more. “Is there something else you can teach me? We can get around to dream magic later.”


Moon thought about it. “Yes, but I won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because of what I said earlier. I feel responsible for your upbringing. There are very important things to teach you that can only be done through dreams. I wouldn’t be able to trust you with power otherwise.” Moon said.


“That is… outrageous! Who are you to decide?” Astral protested. “We made a deal. I would look after Ripple Wreath-”

“And you did a piss-poor job of it! I should have been more precise with my language, so you don’t go thinking tossing my progeny into Dark-infested caverns qualifies as good guardianship.” Nightmare Moon chided. “I judged you more capable than you were, but you’re just as much a child to the Dark as he is.”
Moon laughed mockingly. “Even I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface. Have you looked up into the sky? See that moon, my namesake?  Look’s kinda small against the backdrop of the dark night and stars around. I’ve been up there, and this planet looks just as small. For all our power, magic, and knowledge, we’re mere dust compared to what’s out there.”


“You are veering from insightful commentary into existential madness.” Astral joked grimly, though she could not deny how compelling it was to her that Ancepanox, her only peer on the entire planet, was telling her how they were both dust. “You will have to work hard to convince me of your new worldview.”

“In due course.”  Moon teleported to the base of the tree, cocking her head up to Astral still perched in the dead tree.  “You’re anxious about subordinating yourself to me. Understandable, but I would never abuse my power over you.”

“You’re asking me to trust you.” Astral grunted.

Moon nodded, her eyes glowing ever more bright. “I trusted you with my son. Can you trust me with your obedience?”


It was a tall ask. Astral Nacre, as an inherently proud alicorn, bristled at the thought of bowing down to Nightmare Moon. She’d imagined learning from Ancepanox would be conducted like a dialogue between scholars, not like student and pupil. But things had changed and Moon had leverage over her, as the dark alicorn seemed to care much less about what Astral knew than she had during the Eternal Night.
“Lady Velvet already has my loyalty first and foremost. She is my mother and my ally.”

“Sure.” Moon shrugged. “Just get down here already. I have something I want to show you.”








When Twilight Velvet arrived at Castle Magoria, her suspicion was aroused by how quiet it was. She was immediately vindicated once she entered through the mane gate and saw all the purple knights asleep at their posts. She didn’t even know they needed sleep, except for the comatose state they entered when Astral Nacre manipulated them. She poked one of the knights and they mumbled. Were they dreaming?

“We’re doing this then.” Velvet sighed. After stretching her legs and rolling her shoulders for a few seconds, she trotted through the inner gate to the castle garden.

Anticlimactically, the perpetrator had already left. Astral Nacre was alone in the garden, slouching against the lone tree.  Trotting up to the alicorn, Velvet thought for a moment she was awake and watching, but she realized it was only because Astral had no eyelids. Astral Nacre was asleep too?!

Velvet looked around, scanning the battlements of the walls surrounding them. “Ancepanox!”

The black alicorn did not reveal herself. However the shouting did serve to wake up Astral Nacre, whose boney wings shivered as she roused to full consciousness.

Velvet, lips pursed, decided to let things play out naturally, so feigned ignorance. “I was worrying we would have to start the dinner without you.”


Although it was exceedingly hard to gleam any kind of emotion from Astral face, her little motion suggested she was deeply affected. “I saw a field of sand…  and…  a tower I couldn’t see the top of.” She rumbled, glancing up to the moon. “She left me there. But I was not alone…  Something far away and incomplete spoke to me.”

Velvet nodded absently. “You can tell me about it later.”

Astral, oddly, agreed. She remained silent as she followed Velvet into the keep. But her thoughts ran at a million miles per hour, trying to hold onto the fleeting recollections of walking in a dream. Everything was so hazy.
Something had reached out to her… It wanted to be a part of her. It was powerful and bright, and promised to complement her like nothing else could.




Hundreds of kilometers away in Cloudsdale, Sunset Shimmer awoke too.
“Urg…” She gurgled, remembering the circumstances of her collapse, and the sordid visions of dead things. “At least they didn’t kill me in my sleep.”

It was the dead of night, based on the position of the moon through the small casement window. She was still on the cloud redoubt, but somepony had moved her from the floor into her bedroll.

“Good early early morning.” Gilda the griffin was crouched by the partially collapsed entrance to the small casement, twisting a talon around a broken-off stem of an air plant. “See anything interesting down there?”

Sunset groaned and sat up. The Blackhorn armor felt hot against her skin, so much that was she panting in the cold night air. “I was…  I was back home.”

“Canterlot?”

“The Dreamland. The desert. The base of the Tower.” Sunset whispered. “My princess was there too.”

Gilda’s latent frown deepened. “The real one, or the one you’ve trapped in that armor?”

Sunset dropped her gaze. “I…”

“Whatever.” Gilda grunted. She stood up. “The pegasus went up to the city to prepare things. I suggest we get out of this place as soon as possible too. I know a few good holes in Cirrus you can hide. Then we never see each other again.”

“Wait.” Sunset piped up. “You’re skilled and knowledgeable.”

“And smart enough to know to get the buck away from you.” Gilda growled. “I’m not helping your plans.”

“The answer…  I saw it in the desert.” Sunset trotted past Gilda into the redoubt courtyard, to stand under the pale moonlight. “I thought Astral Nacre was an obstacle, but I see she’s part of the answer. I know how to turn two monsters into one god.”

“Motherbucker gods ARE monsters! What in the hell has ever suggested to you that this planet is better off with divine alicorns strolling around?” Gilda groaned in frustration. “You’re beyond hope.”

"Please listen! With your help and insight, I could do it right this time. I can make sure my princess will exist for the good of ponykind.” Sunset said earnestly. “The answer lies with Astral Nacre.”

“The problem was never that you didn’t have a sufficiently virtuous alicorn, or that your damn ritual wasn’t pure enough. The problem was in the very premise. Didn’t anyone ever tell you what alicorn meant? Ali-corn? Those aliens will never be our allies.” Gilda said. “Letting them rule you is even more contradictory. I’m surprised it took this long for Celestia to die and her little empire to break.”

Sunset sighed. “We can coexist. We want to be together.”

Gilda’s pinched the bridge of her beak, trying to keep herself from yelling. “At this point, I feel like I have a moral obligation to kill you. You’ll destroy the entire planet if I don’t.”

“You’re giving me a lot of credit.” Sunset cracked a sly smile.


“Hmph.” On the flip side, Sunset was pushing buttons for Gilda she’d forgotten she had. Confident, sassy at times, ambitious and driven…  Sunset Shimmer had markings of being Gilda’s type. But Sunset also had that repulsive apologetic instinct of a guilty conscious. If the unicorn was more brazen, Gilda might have actually liked her more. 
“I have to give you some credit. You’re essentially a self-made mare. You’re nopony’s daughter, or experiment, or chosen by fate. You earned what you have.” Gilda remarked. “I mean, besides that you were a noble.”

“Thank you.” Sunset took the complement.

“So I’ll tell you what…” Gilda mentally marked this moment, for she predicted she would come to regret it. “You’re totally right that I have the potential to save your project. It’s really the only alternative to killing you.”

“Then I guess the next few seconds will decide if I get my head twisted off, or if we start packing things up to move into Cirrus district.” Sunset said.


Gilda and Sunset stared at each other for a good minute.

“I’ll show you the best hideout spots first thing in the morning.” Gilda said solemnly. “Then I to go to Canterlot. I need to see Twilight Velvet’s alicorn for myself.”

“Cheers.” Sunset broke into a big grin. “This is going to be epic.”

“Whatever.” Gilda grunted. “Go back to sleep. Maybe you’ll have another revelation about how you should call this whole thing off.”

“Will do.” Sunset nodded. She took in the moonlight for a few more moments and withdrew back into the casement. “By the way, what did you do with that dead stallion?”

Gilda gave a little shrug. The griffin curled up on the floor, tucking her head under a wing for her own nap.

“Right.” Sunset returned to her bedroll, to try to recapture that vision of a desert, where truths and possibilities were whispered on the wind.








Hours passed, the Sun rose.

Nightmare Moon watched the proceedings of the Council of Ponies from a high window of the Canterlot Castle. From that distance the ponies looked like ants, and the stage like an anthill. There was no way to hear what they could have been saying, but it looked like more trials were being held.

“Pageantry.” Moon remarked.


Losing interest in watching the ants, Moon continued on to what she was really there for: The library. From her first hours in her alicorn body, Ancepanox had wanted to delve into the deepest and most forbidden parts of Canterlot Castle library and uncover what perilous secrets Celestia had on file as to the true nature of alicorns, among other things. However, since the end of the Eternal Night, her interest in alicorns had fluctuated. Her new interest was that oft whispered word, connected with so many turning points in history, yet ever elusive and unknown: Harmony.

The crone librarian was at the front desk, moving books onto one of the carts. 

“Good morning.” Moon rasped.

“Lady Sparkle, good to see you again.” The librarian turned to the voice, squirting through her spectacles. “You changed your mane again.”

“It’s been that kind of month.” Moon grinned. “I can’t thank you enough for your help last time. I found Spike safe and sound. Everything turned out okay.”

“Good to hear. I would hate to hear that boy came to any harm. He’s such a diligent learner.” The librarian nodded. “What can I help you with today?”


“I’d like to look at the catalogues for a start. May I?” Moon asked.

The librarian nodded and gestured to a nearby desk, bent under the weight of several enormous book catalogues. They contained records of the hundreds of thousands of books that filled the bookcases of the castle. Before anypony went charging into the papery maze, it was wise to consult the catalogues.
But Nightmare Moon had another reason to consult the records.

“Am I still authorized to review the checkout and return information?” Moon asked.

“By the empress’s express request.” The librarian cooed. She reached into her desk and pulled out a worn key. “Depending on how old the records you want are, they’re either in the annex behind me, or across the hall.”

“One record would be a few months old, the other about ten years. Then as far back as I can find.” Moon said.

“Good luck. Ask if you need anything. You’re our only visitor so far today.” The librarian said, returning to her sorting.



Moon flipped through the catalogue until her eyes spotted what she was looking for. ‘The Elements of Harmony’, under E. It was funny that such powerful tomes were listed alongside such mundane titles as ‘Elements of Air, Oxygen Theories’ and ‘The Elements of Success’.


Elements of Harmony, Volume I: Magic and Power

Unless Moon was mistaken, this was the first and most powerful one. Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Velvet had both probably made contact with the gods using Volume I.


Elements of Harmony, Volume II: Loyalty and Devotion

That was the volume Foaly Flux had poached from the library and sent to Ponyville along with the other serendipitous books of torture.


Elements of Harmony, Volume III: Joy and Laughter

That was the volume that had been in the Golden Oak. Seeing it in the catalogue confirmed to Moon that all the volumes had originated in Canterlot and been sent out piecemeal. If Iillor had used volume III to discover the Dark gods two hundred years ago, then the dissemination would have had to have happened even before that.


Elements of Harmony, Volume IV: Kindness and Acceptance

Moon had no idea where that volume could have been. The checkout records would hopefully give that lead.


Elements of Harmony, Volume V: Truth and Honesty

Reading that title, Moon felt a stirring of power from somewhere nearby, relatively speaking. There was a possibility Volume V was still in Canterlot somewhere.


Elements of Harmony, Volume IV: Bounty and Generosity

Moon suspected that Volume IV had been sent abroad, perhaps to one of the Stars in Griffany.


“Six volumes. Six Elements of Harmony. Hmm…” Moon smacked the catalogue closed. “That’s two times the three tribes. Two three-pony rituals. A six note chord. Hmm…” She wasn’t sure of the implications yet.


Twirling the key the librarian had given her, Moon strode to the records annex. After locating the E section and running through the pertinent pages, she moved to the closet across the hall and dug through the aged parchment for the specific lists she wanted, which took significantly longer.

The endeavor proved very insightful.  The full set of The Elements of Harmony, all six volumes, had been recorded in Canterlot Castle library as far back as the records went, almost nine-hundred years! They’d been checked out very sporadically, by seemingly random ponies who had probably no idea what they were.  That changed in year 150 SS, which Moon was confident was during the reign of the latest Celestia, under one of her pretend successions. The books were withdrawn from the library for an an entire century, and Volume IV and Volume IV never returned at all.

After a period around the six and seventh centuries the pattern of random checkouts was broken again, as the same few names started appearing every few months:  Gentle Clover, Fight, Slate, and Cotr Airy.  Fight and Slate were not-so-clever pseudonyms of Phyte and Shale, likely right after they moved to Canterlot. Cotr Airy was the real name of a lesser-known scion of the Airy family, and Moon didn’t know enough about him to know if his interest in the Elements of Harmony was idle fancy or in conjunction with the Stars.  Gentle Clover though…  Moon didn’t presume that it was THE Clover. Clover was supposed to have been six-hundred years dead by the seventh century, her divine half having re-apotheosized after the Everfree Siege.  Cotr Airy stopped showing up in the records, either because of his death or distraction. Slate stopped appearing either, probably because the Star moved out of the city, but not before she took Volume III and never returned it. Gentle Clover still showed up sporadically for the next few decades, before she too disappeared.

Then, most recently, the disappearance of Volumes I and V. The date of Volume I’s disappearance coincided with the Sunset Shimmer’s betrayal, 989 SS. Had Sunset given the book to Velvet before she fled Equestria?  Moon didn’t know.  But more interesting was Volume V, taken permanently out of the library for imperial business on 996, a year remarkable only for the fact it was the year Celestia adopted Mi Amore Cadenza as Junior Princess.


Moon was not happy to be reminded of Cadence’s existence. The forgettable accident alicorn Mi Amore Cadenza was like a pink smear in the middle of an intricate web of intrigue. Moon had all of zero idea how Cadence had become an alicorn or if, like Ancepanox had once been, she was just a pony in alicorn skin.

Nevertheless, Moon had learned a lot. Unfortunately it confirmed that none of the volumes were still in the library. Volume V was still in Canterlot, somewhere in connection to Cadence.
Moon didn’t necessarily want the other volumes right away. Volumes II and III were still in Ponyville, waiting for her. It would be much more useful to suss out complementary material and secondary sources. After all, the centuries of random ponies stumbling upon The Elements of Harmony should have left some academic trace.



“Thank you for this.” Moon gave the librarian the key. “I’m going into the stacks.”

“Yes ma’am.” The librarian hummed, glancing over the book she’d begun reading.



Strolling into the maze of bookshelves, Nightmare Moon was hit by a wave of nostalgia and sadness. Even in such difficult times, why were there not the usual groups of students and scholars hunched over various study tables, or reading in the different corners of the library, or debating each other by the chalkboards? The private tutors of Canterlot brought their pupils to the castle library all the time, yet now all was silence. Students at the University usually jockeyed for dally allotments of passes to the magical studies wing, but nopony was there.
Moon and the librarian were alone in the whole castle.

Well, that was not entirely true, Moon could sense Astral Nacre somewhere below them, in the deeper sections of the castle, where her new lab allegedly was. Moon intended to pay her a visit at some point.
Just as Moon was considering this, she sensed another creature in the library. It was very faint, and definitely not a pony.

“A Star?” Moon growled. In fluid motion she jumped onto the shorter row of bookshelves and crept along it like a cat. She hopped across the shelves until she was above the creature she’d detected.

The creature turned out to be a griffin, female, with a brown body and white head.  “Hmm?” The griffin noticed the shadow that had fallen across her and the book she was browsing. She craned her neck around to stare at Nightmare Moon, leering at her from on top of the shelf. “Oh hello." The griffin paused, sizing up the alicorn. "Are you Astral Nacre?”

“Nope.” Moon growled. She stared into the griffins’ eyes. It seemed like a normal griffin, so not a Star, but it knew about Astral. “Takes a lot of guts to snoop around here without a library card. Tut tut. You must be one of Black Bell’s dolls, right?”

The griffin stared for a few minutes. When confronting the secret world of magic and alicorns, it was a delicate game of testing how much the other knew without giving away your position. But here, both parties were being refreshing upfront about things. “Not every griffin with an interest in this stuff is associated with Black Bell. I just happen to be, kinda. Are you one of her friends or her enemies? I wouldn't like the answer either way.”

Trifling question. The nightmare was nopony's friend, only their night goddess.  “My name is Ancepanox, Nightmare of the Moon.” Moon announced. “The Nightmare of the Moon has been absent for the world for a millennium since the banishment of Celestia’s sister.”

“I've heard of you in passing, Lady Moon." The griffin said. She paused again, waiting for Moon to reply, but she did not.  "If you're Celestia's sister, I'd expect you to finish that thought with some pronouncement about how you’d come to restore cosmic, or something like that.” The griffin stood up and slid the book back in the shelf. She ran her talons through the feathers of her crest, a motion that showed off the large amulet clasped on her ankle. “I’m Gilda, formerly of Gottrakt, but I’m on my own right now.”

Gilda! That name leaped out to Moon. Rainbow Dash had said that name several times.
Moon closed her eyes, digging through her memory. Yes…  She remembered the storm brewing on the horizon, the winds building in Ponyville. Rainbow Dash and Gilda landed and had an argument in the street, while Twilight Sparkle watched out of sight, pondering which one of them she was going to hunt. When Gilda flew off, Twilight had gotten her answer, and so Dash had been pulled into the nightmare and everything that followed.

Gilda mistook Moon’s contemplation as something else. “Okay, I won’t lie, I’m not entirely on my own. I’m here on behalf of Sunset Shimmer.”

The griffin didn’t hold onto other pony’s secrets for long. Must have been her mercenary past. “Sunset Shimmer? That's an honest surprise. First I hear she returned and blew up a gatehouse, now I witness she is sending Gottrakt birds to troll through this vaunted library.  I thought her stunt here in Canterlot would surely satisfy her need for attention, at least for another decade of exile.”
Moon had to admit she didn’t know much about the circumstances of Sunset Shimmer’s betrayal, exile, or return.  It was not something she had the time or patience for when the was SO much else going on. Shimmer did not rate in the top ten of her concerns.  “Mis Shimmer didn’t warn you about me? How embarrassing she didn't know! Oh, but I must keep my voice down in the library.” Moon grinned. “You’ll do me a favor and carry my warm greetings. A hearty welcome back to Equestria. Same goes for you, actually.”

Gilda scowled at that last comment, and Moon's grin confirmed for her that she was at the information disadvantage. "Whatever you may know about me, you should know I'm no messenger bird.” She said, voice verging on apologetic. The griffin was showing signs of nervousness, but unlike most mortals Gilda’s little glances and movements betrayed that she was planning her moves against alicorn. Her fight or flight response was firmly in fight territory. “Besides I think she’s better off not knowing.”

Moon chuckled. “You’re not going to let her decide what she’s better off knowing? You really are a Gottrakt bird, habitualized to controlling information. Or is it just stingy griffin instinct.”  She hopped down from the bookshelf, making the wood floor of the library groan from her landing. She held herself at full height, smiling with fangs on full display. Gilda came up to her neck, being taller than a pony, but still bristled on being stared down at by the alicorn. “If you do end up telling Mis Shimmer about me, don't spare on the detail. Put the fear of god in her, something she sorely lacks."

Gilda wondered what history the alicorn had with Shimmer. How did Nightmare Moon know so much if she had only just returned? The mystery was intimidating, if only because of how out of place it seemed, a sudden interruption to the balance of mortal, Star, and alicorn. It was not an interruption for the better. "I can put fear in Shimmer any time I want, nightmare." She tapped her chest.


Moon shifted forward and Gilda yanked her claw back. Moon 's lid drooped, a knowing half-lidded sneer. "I like your bangle. Where did you get it?”

Gilda glared and fiddled with the platinum amulet clasped around her ankle. “Back off, ya overgrown horse. I’m not the kind of animal you can boss around.”

“Oh?” Moon tapped her chin. “Why is that? What strange power do you have, pray tell? Not dream magic. Can you perform a Rainboom?”

That obvious reference to Rainbow Dash drew even more ire from Gilda. “I said back off. I didn’t come here to be harassed.”

“And I didn’t come here to harass. This is a library.” Moon shrugged. “Give me one more guess though. Just one, eh?"
She closed an eye and tilted her head, appraising Gilda like an art piece.
The griffin was coiled, ready to battle. Her eyes were alert but not completely concentrated on Moon. Gilda was focusing on something else, some kind of mental preparation.  Her right leg with the amulet on it was curled to her chest, tensed...  But almost like Gilda was going to tear at her own heart, not Moon's.  "You're too proud to deny you have some kind of power, but it clearly requires sacrifice, blood, to work. It's not magic... but an otherworldly power." Moon nodded, sure of her deduction.  "The Phantom Time? It is, isn’t it. Did you earn it yourself or did Black Bell give it to you. No wonder you got away from her with your brain intact, when you're such a valuable experiment.”  But detecting that she was about to push Gilda too far and provoke an actual fight, Moon took a generous step back. “Oh, but your business is your own. I just wanted to know you better. Innocent curiosity I promise.”

“Sure.” Gilda settled down, let out a tense breath. “I didn’t wake up this morning thinking I’d meet another damn alicorn to keep track of.”

“Uh huh.” Nightmare Moon nodded. It was time to play nice. “Say, if you were looking for Astral Nacre, I can introduce you before I let you go.”

“That does sound better than the introduction I had planned.” Gilda admitted, aggravated she was agreeing to two suggestions in as many days. “I was browsing anyway, putting it off.”



Moon lead the way, out the back way to not bother the librarian.  She trotted down the darkened marble halls to the nearest staircase.
“You seem like the type that just wants to be left alone, Mis Gilda.”

“Ah so you can take a hint.” Gilda deadpanned.

Moon laughed. “I’m the same way really. Not a loner, per se, but I appreciate loneliness, not that I'm ever truly alone anymore."

Gilda chalked up the turn of phrase to alicorn flair for the dramatics. "You're describing normal pony feelings."

"And isn't it remarkable how very 'normal' I am." Moon agreed. "You might not believe me, but I don’t have any big ambitions on this planet. Sure I have goals, mostly to get more powerful to help my friends, but I’m not planning to build my own Equestria or anything.”

Gilda didn't believe her. An alicorn affecting something resembling humility was not unwelcome though. "Cool. All that armor is just fashion then.” Gilda grunted. “You can’t throw a stone on this continent and not hit a mare plotting some crap. The only reason I’m helping that bucker Sunset Shimmer is to mitigate the damage she does.”

“Why not kill her?” Moon asked the obvious question, her voice dipping.

Gilda clacked her beak. “To be honest I don’t have an answer to that. I, well…” She was silent for a while. “I’m trying to learn how to resolve my problems without violence. If I killed everything that annoyed me, there wouldn’t be much left. What’s life without struggle anyway. So, um…”

“No, I get it.” Moon nodded. Gilda was making fun of her, but that was okay.


They descended down through the floors of the castle, past the ground floor, into the underlevels. The plainer stone construction was no less precise or sturdy, though the signs of neglect were showing themselves in the corners. A few candles had been lit, guiding the way to the unassuming door of one of the storage cellars.

Before Moon could reach and knock, the door swung open. One of the purple knights took a step forward and bounced off Moon’s chest. “Oh sorry! I did not notice you-” The knight fell silent when he noticed it was an alicorn.

“Boo.” Moon giggled.

The knight stared for a long minute, scrutinizing something in Moon’s eyes. “Thank you.” He said suddenly. “Last night, I was flying among the stars… and I brushed against home. I’m…  I’m coming together.” He excused himself, slipping past Moon and Gilda and galloping up the hall towards the stair.


“Is that you Ancepanox?” Astral Nacre’s psychic voice permeated their minds. A moment later Astral’s fleshy head peered around the door. Her beady eyes flicked between the visitors. “Come in. I have completed my tasks for the day.”

Gilda flinched. “Uh, I wasn’t expecting her to look like that.”

“She won’t mind if you stare.” Moon stepped into the makeshift lab.
Astral had discovered the benefits of organization and (passable) hygiene since her work at the Opera House. She had converted the space into something that could actually pass as a laboratory, with shelves packed with jars containing pickled organs, a wash basin, and one of the stone slabs originally pulled up from the Arcanum. Astral had shapeshifted to resemble a plague doctor again, which seemed to be where she found her surgical headspace.
“Doing well today?” Moon asked.

“Yes. My thoughts dwell on the vision you sent me into last night.” Astral splashed her forehooves and some of her tendrils in the washbasin- It didn't serve much point since she absorbed any blood spilt during her work. “I have grown convinced the answers to my longing will come for me soon. A god in the west calls out to me. I think we love each other.”

“How west are we talking?” Gilda cut in. “Cloudsdale?”

Moon stepped between them. “Astral, this is Gilda, a friend of mine. Gilda, meet her highness Astral Nacre.”

“Charmed.” Gilda grunted.

Astral swayed back and forth. “How did you know Cloudsdale?”

“Sunset Shimmer sent me. She has a alicorn soul trapped in a piece of armor. For gods know what reason, she thinks pushing that power onto you will ‘purify’ it.” Gilda explained, feeling foolish. about the whole thing. She thought very highly of herself but she could not deny the sheer presence of the two alicorns in front of her. “I don’t know how Shimmer expects to get it right this time after ten years of bucking it up, but whatever.”

This was Nightmare Moon’s first time hearing about this. “Excuse me, what? An alicorn soul? Was she trying to resurrect Celestia?”

“Something like that.” Gilda shrugged.

Moon growled, feeling a surge of anger. “What the hell does that unicorn think she’s playing at?”

“Ask her yourself. I’m just the messenger.” Gilda said. “Anyway, the only reason I’m carrying this message is because there’s a slim chance that her cockamamy plan succeeds, two alicorns-” The gestured to Astral and towards the west. “Will become one. Less to keep track of.”

“That stupid Traitor has seriously sabotaged my lesson plan.” Moon paced angrily in place. “Astral was supposed to find something new and compelling in the world to define and cherish for herself.”

“Whether you were intending it or not, I have found something that drew me in.” Astral said, irritated how the other two were talking past her. “When I have time, I fully intend to go to Cloudsdale and discover this for myself. If indeed that cur Sunset Shimmer is not lying, I will put aside all hostility and explore the option for rejoinder.”

“Not if I kill her first.” Moon and Gilda both muttered under their breath.

“Come back tonight, Ancepanox. I want you to send me back to the dream again. I wish to see more of the Tower, and potentially to hear that voice again.” Astral said. “Please leave me for now. I have more work.”

“You said you were finished for the day.” Moon said accusingly. “No matter. I won’t be changing your mind right now. But be ready tonight. You’ll be hearing why chasing after Sunset’s light is a bad idea.”


“I delivered the message, so I’m off to find some food. I remember the good stalls being near the mountain plaza.” Gilda backed out of the room. “Where can I find you most days, Lady Moon?”

“The Everfree Castle or thereabouts.” Moon said gruffly, glancing at Astral. “And you?”

“Cloudsdale, or thereabouts.” Gilda walked towards the stairs. “Later dudes.”


Moon lingered for a few minutes, deciding if it was worth pushing Astral. “Keep an incredulous mind about Sunset Shimmer. She killed the last alicorn she loved.”

“But is she not bringing her back to life now?” Astral asked. “Call on me later at Castle Magoria.”

“I have research to do anyway.” Moon said snidely. “Until tonight, goodbye.” She teleported away.







The sun was beginning to set on the peak of the Mountain when the Council of Ponies adjourned for the day. The trail of the revolutionaries had been postponed again, but Twilight Velvet had dragged up several former imperial officials and summarily charged them. The Council had also held the trial of one of the former members, one of the Old Town merchants who had been kicked off on the second day.  There were rumors that the late Captain Hauseway would be tried post-mortem.
Nopony was untouchable. Pleasing the crowd was the only way to protect oneself. The punishments weren't very harsh so far, just prison and humiliation. So far.

Watching from his spot in the crowd, Blueblood was glad things were going well. Despite the dismantling of most of the Blackhorn militias, Blueblood still had some loyalists who’d refused to rebel. Still there was a risk somepony would try to charge him in front of the Council of Ponies, so Blueblood had shored up his tenuous political position by wooing some of the fence-sitter nobles who hadn’t chosen between supporting or opposing Velvet yet. The aristocracy still had hope as a durable base of power…  Until they rebelled and were killed or were picked off by the Council of Ponies.


The sun was halfway set by the time the day's crowd had fully dispersing out of the square, murmuring about the concluding announcements about the next day’s trials. Attendance remained high, at least five or six-hundred. The spectacle of seeing their former masters named and shamed had not outlasted its novelty yet for the commoners of Canterlot.

“Prince Blueblood, up here a moment.” Twilight Velvet’s command caught Blueblood’s attention through the din. Velvet was on the stage looking impatient.

“I’ll catch up with you later boys.” Blueblood promised the group of nobles he’d been socializing with. He waded against the traffic and clambered onto the stage. “Masterful work today my lady.”

“Thank you. Everypony is learning the process.” Velvet said.

“The sordid corners of this city are shivering in fear, practicing their words for the summons they dread, to face you and the ponies of Canterlot.” Blueblood extolled.

Velvet interrupted him. “Okay that’s enough.” She leaned in. “How do you think this project is going as a whole? DO you have concerns?”

“Well,” Blueblood had no idea how to answer that question. “Nothing I didn’t air last night. I’m finding it harder than usual to make connections. Regretfully a cloud of suspicion still hangs over us in the nobles’ eyes.”

“Good.” Velvet snorted. “Buck them. What I’m constructing is a power structure that explicitly does not involve them. Say what you will about democracy, my prince, but it has elasticity that Equestrian feudalism does not. I can involve and distance ponies at will, heedless of bloodline or nobility.”

“That’s… umm…” Blueblood trailed off.

“But none of this will last a day after I leave. This is not a durable system yet.” Velvet leaned in. “It will be very interesting if Duke Lightdowser will keep the Council for his own purposes


“You’re talking five or six steps ahead of me my lady.” Blueblood sighed. “Just tell me what I have to do right now?”

Velvet laughed and ruffled his mane. “Buisness as usual. In fact, I think it would suit both of our purposes better if you stopped directly cooperating with me or Night Light. You can go back to operating your own interest group.”

Blueblood sucked in a sharp breath. As dangerous as being around Velvet was, being on the outside was much more so. “My lady if I’ve done something wrong-”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, and this isn’t the prelude to you being liquidated. You should believe me when I tell you this will work out for the best.” Velvet said. She pulled him into an unexpected hug.

Blueblood stiffened.

“Don’t get used to the state of things around here. Don’t even put stock in what I say. By the end of the week, everything will have changed again.” Velvet whispered in his ear. “So much for durable systems, heh heh.”

Blueblood tried to maintain a straight face. “Y- Yes my lady.” He whispered.

Velvet let go of him and took a step back. “In a few days I’ll send Lady Aurthora back to you. My time at the forefront of things is rapidly coming to a close. It is better I make a graceful exit while I can.” She waved him away. “You’re still invited to dinner day-after-tomorrow.”

“Thank you Lady Velvet. See you then.” Blueblood jumped off the stage.
A few of the nobles were waiting for him, looking curious. “I’ve just been fired. Or promoted. It’s hard to tell.” Blueblood mused. He broke into a thin grin. “Either way, I think that gives me leave to reorganize the Blackhorns for the times we live in. Being pro-Canterlot and pro-Unicorn isn’t edgy anymore.”
He scanned the edge of the plaza until he saw the ponies he was looking for: A group of commoners lounging at a cafe table. He’d spied the conspicuous group before, but there numbers had grown day by day. Now there were a few ponies in dark jackets, and even a few with weapons on their belts.  “Justice against the revolutionaries that killed the Speakers… can come in many forms. Lady Velvet will need help to hold back the tide of anarchy.” He turned to one of the nobles. “Ask around and see how many ponies would be interested in a new corp to protect the new government against those agitators.”

“Ain’t the new guards for that?” One of the nobles asked.

“It never hurts to uphold the law.” Blueblood remarked. “The law is the law.”








The first thing Fleetfoot did after getting to her room was throw herself on the bed, stretching out with a pained groan. Being on the Council of Ponies was far more frustrating that it was fun. Velvet was very effectively delegitimizing the old imperial regime, bringing out the old generals and bureaucrats and listing for the public every incident of negligence, corruption, and poor policy, to make them answer for it. Only, Fleetfoot did not think most of them were bad ponies. Sure, the Ponies of Canterlot had more reason to be upset since they had lived with the consequences of that imperial cliques’ decisions, and Fleetfoot did not begrudge them their anger. But Velvet was wielding that anger for nefarious ends, and many of those deemed guilty were just chumps like Hot Take.

Fleetfoot imagined how a Council of Ponies would go in Cloudsdale. Without a strong character like Velvet to keep the commoners and nobles away from each other’s throats, any attempt at democracy in Cloudsdale would dissolve into brawling street violence between the usual suspects of disaffected factory workers, agitated air fleet cadets, petty nobles, and knights of the Admiralty. Who would come out on top of a battle like that, she wondered?


There was a knock at her door.

“Come in.” Fleetfoot sighed.

“Hey it’s me.” Ripple Wreath poked his head in. His eyes were glowing with a slight blue energy. “Want to go book shopping?”

“Uh sure.” Fleetfoot sat up. “Your eyes are doing that nightmare thing.”

“I know. Lady Moon just dropped by and fed me.” Wreath said, conjuring awful images in Fleetfoot’s head of the dark alicorn regurgitating food for Wreath like a mother bird, like some of the more traditional hill pegasi did. “She also asked me to find a specific book for her, which propmpts me asking you now. What do you say? Want to hit up the book shops, antiques dealers, and pawn stores before they close?”

“This is a huge city. There is no way we could visit all the stores in one afternoon.” Fleetfoot pointed out. “I mean, are you going to make this a multi-day affair?”

“Nah, once the stores close we’ll just have to break in to assess their wares.” Wreath said with a laugh. “I’m not even joking.”

Fleetfoot sighed. “Yeah why not. I’m in the market for new reading material anyway.” She wrapped a scarf around her neck and followed Wreath into the hall.

Twilight Velvet had generously lifted the guard on the guest house, so Wreath and Fleetfoot could leave unmolested. The neighborhood they were in was quiet but the hum of the main Old Town thoroughfare was only a block away.

“Lady Moon also said to be on the lookout for a brown griffin. Truthfully I’ve never seen a griffin before except in books.” Ripple Wreath said. “Do you have griffins in Cloudsdale?”

“Yeah there’s a small enclave of them in the city, but most griffins like to live on the ground. There’s actually a griffin fief about a day downriver from the Canter, Embankment.” Fleetfoot said. “If you find yourself a free weekend you should visit it. It’s a strange little place.”



Old Town’s street plan was mostly unchanged from when the city was first founded, all the way back to the Blackhorns just after the great migration. The mane street that ran from the base of Canterlot Castle to the end of the plateau where it met the Mountain zig-zagged through several plazzas, broad and lined with trees in places, narrow and surrounded by tall townhouses and shops. 

“This is the biggest city I’ve ever been in.” Wreath commented. “I’ve been to Fourth Ford with my family a couple times, but that’s barely a fourth the size! What’s the best way for an earth pony like me to see Cloudsdale?”

“Airship tour. There might also be a spell solution but I wouldn’t know anything about that.” Fleet said.
Fleetfoot was getting used to the silence in her head. Rain Gnash had discovered how to listen without being listened to through the bond. The curse that had affected them both equally had become a one-sided burdon. Fleetfoot got more aggravated the more she thought about it, especially since Rain Gnash had not even deigned to explain herself.  Next time she saw Nightmare Moon, Fleet was going to ask her to do something about it. Hear that Admiral, Fleet screamed in her head, I’m coming for you!

“Did you say something?” Wreath asked.

“Nope.” Fleetfoot grunted. “Your eyes are still glowing.”

“It will be harder to tell in the light.” Wreath replied. 



The first bookshop they ducked into was a very small store, apparently specializing in academic texts.
“Hello there.” The proprietor welcomed them. “It’s not every day I get an earth pony and pegasus in my store. What can I help you with?”

“I’m looking for a book for a friend.” Wreath explained. “She described it as about this size, yay thick, full of symbols.”

“Symbols? Is your friend looking for for books on occultism?”

“No, nothing like that. Literally just symbols without anything else.” Wreath said. “The example she gave to me was different sized circles intersecting each other.”

The proprietor tapped her chin. “Believe it or not, one of the stallions in my guild came in showing off a book like that, maybe five or six years ago. Writ Whirl is his name. He had a fire at his shop last year and lost most of his stock so that book might not exist anymore. Real shame.”

“Or he might have sold it before that.” Fleetfoot remarked.

“Oh no, Writ was enamored by that strange little book, bragged that it had belonged to the empress of all ponies.” The proprietor shrugged. “His new location is at the north end of the Old Town. He closes early but he lives right above so maybe he’ll talk to you if you tell him Gilt sent you.”


After thanking the proprietor mare and exiting onto the street, Fleetfoot spoke up. “Did Lady Moon happen to mention the title of the book she was looking for? It seems like that would be fairly important.”

“Yes.” Wreath said, smiling guiltily, and left it at that. 



They made their way north, stopping by a few more book stores along the way. One of the other shop owners actually corroborated Gilt’s story about Writ Whirl, adding the claim that Writ had been very belligerent in responding to offers to buy the book, but they didn’t know if it had survived the fire either.
Fleetfoot used her limited bits to buy a fantasy story about a knight traveling in a strange land. It promised to be some good light reading.

“My father is a voracious reader, but the only thing he reads are histories about wars and stuff. He called me a fairy for having a book about river fish in my room.” Wreath said.

“Sounds like an interesting pony.” Fleetfoot remarked.

Wreath smiled awkwardly. “Sorry if I overshare. I don’t really have many anecdotes that don’t involved being humiliated by this or that pony. Coming to Canterlot with my mentor Glori was supposed to be my big break, my opportunity to prove myself.” He chuckled. “It didn’t work out that way, but I’m not disappointed. I could eviscerate them all with my eyes closed now.”

“I’m not sure that’s a productive way to think about it, but you do you.” Fleetfoot wasn’t sure what to think of Ripple Wreath. The little earth pony had a country charm to him, but he was not handling his condition well; Young ponies with too much power and not enough responsibility, usual noble scions or merchant sons, became spoiled brats that reacted poorly to not getting their way.


The afternoon wore into evening, and it started to get darker. By the time Fleetfoot and Ripple Wreath reached the north side of town where Writ Whirl’s bookstore was, the moon was beginning to rise.

A frazzled unicorn stallion was loitering outside, rolling cigarettes.

“Hi.” Ripple Wrath smiled.

“Need something mudpony?” The stallion grunted, not looking up from his task

“Are you Writ Whirl? We’re on the hunt for a book with strange symbols in it.” Wreath said. “Don’t try to act confused. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Business is slow already, without thugs coming around to bother me.” Writ sneered, still refusing to make eye contact. “Tell me who sent you. I’ll be submitting a formal complaint to the guild over this.”

“Maybe business is slow because you’re an asshole.” Fleetfoot interjected, knocking the cigarette out of his hooves. “Where’s that book?”

Writ, eyes sliding between Fleet and Wreath straightened his stance. “I sold it.”

“Oh yeah?” Fleetfoot growled.

“Yeah, five bucking years ago. I kept getting mobsters coming in my store, demanding to have it. Well I wasn’t having it, even when they broke things to make an example.” Writ said ruefully. “They torched everything one night, beat the snot out of me when I tried to put it out. Well, the fires died down, but they went through the ashes and found the book, completely untouched by the flames. I was sitting there stunned when their boss, a tall red mare with an even longer mane, strolled up to me and tossed a bag of bits at my hooves. They all left me there, taking the book.  So yeah, I ‘sold’ it.”

“Red mare?” Fleet glanced at Wreath, who shrugged.

“Go somepony who knows the local gangs, or the government or somepony. None of my business anymore.” Writ bend over and picked up his cigarette. “Now get off my curb.”

“Good evening.” Fleetfoot nodded, stepping back to the street.
While they were trotting away, she glanced back at Writ. “Think he was telling the truth?”

Ripple Wreath was being strangely quiet. Finally he spoke up. “No… I could smell something weird about that pony. He’s been altered.”

“Uh, what?” Fleetfoot cocked a brow.

“He… I dunno. He smells like Lady Moon, kinda. An alicorn-y kind of smell, but only a little. Alicorn magic, maybe? Yeah, trace amounts of alicorn magic.” Wreath brooded. “If I had to guess, I’d say it was from prolonged exposure to the book. Strange, huh?”

“So the book we’re looking for is an ‘alicorn book’. That’s got to be the weirdest phrase I’ve ever said.” Fleetfoot laughed to herself. “Are you going to report back to Lady Moon or go in search of this red mare.”

“Lady Velvet or her friends probably know who that red mare was.” Wreath speculated. “Velvet has her headquarters at that big keep with the spikes, right?”

Fleet knew exactly what he was talking about. Castle Magoria’s six incomplete spires were like menacing spikes when view from certain angles. “Yes, and it’s getting late so she will probably be there.”

“Wonderful. Let’s think of a cover story. Maybe we can twist Writ Whirl’s story a bit, and say we heard about the red mare assaulting ponies.” Wreath said. “Because if Lady Velvet finds out what we’re after I’m guessing she won’t be pleased.”

“Fun times abound.” Fleetfoot agreed.  Was the book they were looking for related to the mysterious power Nightmare Moon mentioned? Harmony? Even if it were not Fleet was very interested to know what kind of book the Nightmare of the Moon would be after.






Twilight Velvet entered the office as the small group of nobles crowded around Night Light’s desk were beginning to shout.

“...and have not reinstated the clubs or guilds either! This is an outrageous violation of NORMS!”

“Are you ponies not overlooking the fact we it is barely two days after a major rebellion. I do not wish to have to list down the kinds of depravities the rebels would subject you to if they had succeeded.” Night Light droned on. “About your other worries, I can’t address them directly. I told you, you need to bring them up during the Council of Ponies, so they can be attended to with the full 

“Are you messing with us sir? The Council is our worry! You are giving this town to the commoners!”

“I have asked to the point of exhaustion what real alternative any of you offering, and I never hear an answer.” Night Light rebutted, his voice hitting at aggravation. He leaned back in his seat, his gaze conspicuously moving to Velvet. “Neither my wife or I have the time to workshop your policy proposals for you.”

The nobles turned to look at Velvet. 
“Good evening, ladies and gentlecolts. We are closing up for the day.” Velvet said. “But don’t be upset. For you ponies who feel uncomfortable airing your insecurity in front of anypony at the Council of Ponies, I will be holding a private court at the Castle Magoria on weekends.”

The nobles traded glances, much less comfortable with complaining to Velvet as they were to Night Light.

“No, really, it’s time for you to go. It’s past time for dinner and I have guests waiting on me. Out you go.” Velvet began gently pushing the nobles towards the door.
Finally, it was just her and Night Light in the room. “Having fun with the piggies?”

“To be honest, no.” Night Light slumped over the desk. “I find the merchants to most resemble the pigs. These noble bastards…  They are like the most spoiled cats, who want to be petted just so, and hiss and scratch at the slightest thing. I think I want to take a broom to them.”

“Now now Night Light, there’s no need to get violent.” Velvet teased.

Night Light sighed and slipped off the chair, joining her at the door. “Nothing has turned me so against our fair city’s noblesse as trying to herd them. The cat analogy persists.”

“Patience, my knight. We only have to keep this up a little longer.” Velvet extended a hoof. “What do you say about going back to the castle for dinner and a good night’s rest?”

“Most welcome my lady.” Night Light accepted the hoof, and they left the shadowy hall together.



However, somepony awaited them just outside, lounging against the wall.

“Hey.” The mare hissed.

“Oh hello. What was your name again? Moor Breaker?” Velvet eyed the unicorn mare. “If you expect a conversation, perhaps a more private setting?”

“I’ll make this quick. You’ve held up your end of the deal so far, but our boys still aren’t free. Pushing back the trial date isn’t going to cut it.” Moor Breaker said sharply. “And putting away Hot Take wasn’t appreciated. He wasn’t a comrade but he was a dedicated reformist and a good stallion.”

“Be honest with yourselves. You revolutionaries hate reformists.” Velvet laughed. “As for your imprisoned friends, they are safer where they are. We still have not pinned down the reason for the militia revolt, but a leading theory is that they were committed anti-revolutionaries that were mad we had not purged you from Canterlot.”

Moor Breaker scowled. “Oh yeah?”

“Once it is confirmed I will release a public statement to that effect. You couldn’t dream of a better headline, dissociating your movement from violence and making your enemies seem deranged.”

“They revel in their derangement, as I’m sure you do. We are watching carefully, Lady Velvet.” Moon Breaker growled. “Good luck with your balancing act.” She pushed off the wall and strolled around the corner.


Velvet turned to Night Light, who was looking both bemused and concerned. “We only have to keep this up a little longer.” She repeated. “Then, they will be the problem of whoever takes over this city.”

“Sharphoof Lightdowser.” Night Light speculated.

“The most likely candidate, considering his army is a week away. But who knows. The future is not always easy to predict.” Velvet grinned.

They trotted along the worn street. At some point a purple knight on patrol noticed them and began tailing as an impromptu guard, but Velvet still pretended they were alone. What a lovely night it was, cloudless, with a big moon overhead. But as she had said, the future was not easy to predict, and the night did not mark an end to trouble.








Nightmare Moon appeared in a swirl of shadow and purple magic above Castle Magoria’s highest spire, capping the central keep. She light upon the spire, balancing while she scanned the area below.
As predicted, Astral Nacre was waiting for her, again perched in the dead tree in the middle of the garden. Moon gracefully lept into the air, gliding on her broad wings down the the level of the inner walls. The way the wind whispered around her feathers exhilarated her in a primal way, psyching her for what was about to come.

“Astral Nacre.” She said regally. “I’ve come to change your mind.”

“Amusing double meaning: You wish to alter my opinions and beliefs, but also you may literally seek to replace this thinking mind of mine.” Astral Nacre turned her head to Moon. “You said you would open my mind to the universe around us. That happened. You have come back and tell me you don’t like what I saw!”

“Sunset Shimmer is deceiving you. You were supposed to witness a world of light and beauty, but a charlatan has been holding up a torch to blind you..” Moon said gravely.


“How do you know that? Have you talked to her? Have you ever even met this mare? You speak with so much conviction.” Astral said. “I fought against Sunset Shimmer. She believed in what she fought for.”

“Why does that matter, if her beliefs are still bad? Passion or conviction don’t redeem evil.” Moon growled. “And Sunset Shimmer’s plot to resurrect Celestia is unshakably evil.”

Astral was defiant. “Are you going to begin decrying necromancy? You say bringing back Celestia so bad, when you are nothing but the resuscitation of that dead nightmare, Celestia’s sister!”


That sting hung in the air, as Moon’s attitude turned from imperious to angry.  “You might as well keep talking, since you will be taking it all back at the end of this anyway.” She threatened. The dark alicorn tilted her head, as if making sure the big pale moon was still behind her in the sky. “Your whole attitude will have to change. I don’t want to have to force you, but I will if I have to.”

“That is a lot of talk, just because you don’t like the friends I want to make. I saw how small we were, just like you wanted, and I did not like it. How can you fault me when I see clear way to solve this problem?!” Astral, in contrast to Moon, was getting more eager and manic. “You pretend that you want to coexist with the mortals, when you won’t even abide by my choices. So much for your tolerance!”

“No, I won’t tolerate your stupidity. Last night you were sympathetic to my message so I know you can be saved. Somehow, you saw the same set of facts as I did and came to a wildly different conclusions. You still have the choice. Don’t trade enslavement to Twilight Velvet, for enslavement to Sunset Shimmer. ” Astral shouted. “Don’t fall for the trap. Don’t entangle alicorn and mortal kinds.


“I have had enough of your insults.” Astral nickered. “Are you going to change my mind by force, or not? Come on!”

“Psshh, what student doesn’t fight with their teacher once in a while.” Nightmare Moon shifted, halting her pacing and standing still. “Isn’t the moon beautiful tonight? Waning gibbous. I’m bound to her now, and she to me. You could have a relationship like that too.”
She hopped down into the garden, landing gently. “Astral Nacre, if you actually think that convection justifies belief, is the opposite true too?”

Astral’s tendrils began to thrash. She tried to calm them but her body was too excited. “Stop talking and test your words!”



With a roll of her hooves, Nightmare Moon manifested her sabre. “Don’t expect me to stop until I win outright.”  She charged a lance of magic, casually letting it loose directly into Agana’s chest.

Agana tilted her head, examining the burning puncture in her torso. “Will we fight forever? I won’t give up.”  She slipped down off her perch in the tree, catlike, tearing up a flower bed with her heavy landing.  She rolled her shoulder and flared her boney wings.  “Who knows, one of us may die!”
Maybe from Moon’s spell, or maybe other reasons, the dead tree came alight all throughout its branches, becoming a torch to illuminate the entire garden.

“Hell yes. Let’s go twenty rounds.” Moon laughed.
Bounding forward, Moon spun around and hit Astral with an aerial kick, knocking the other alicorn into the burning tree. Astral bounced off, but didn’t bounce far before Moon was on her again, spearing her with her sabre and driving it into the tree behind. While Astral was still pinned, Moon began relentlessly attacking her with hooves, horn, and spell. Throwing all her weight into another tackle, Moon smashed Astral all the way through the tree, spiking the beastly alicorn into the earth in a shower of soil and flowers.

“I see you are still the alicorn worthy of my respect.” A coil of sinew snaked out of the crater and reformed itself back into Astral’s form. “Nay, even greater.” She twisted her limbs grotesquely in a mimicry of rolling her shoulders. “But if I just refuse to surrender, what will you do?”

Nightmare Moon stepped forward through the flaming pile of wood, twirling her sabre. “You’re not as durable as you think you are.” She lifted a hoof, inspecting how red-hot her horseshoe was getting, and the way her fur sizzled but did not burn.  “Besides, don’t you want to have something at stake? Wouldn’t you give it everything when the risks are real.”


Astral reached into the earth and yanked up a thick length of tree root, heaving it like a club in her hoof. She howled and swiped at Moon, while her other limbs and tendril mane lashed out like a tangle of snakes.  Moon ducked under the limb and feverishly slashed at the tendrils with her sabre, but Astral’s leg caught her around the neck and yanked her forward. Astral tried to catch Moon in a bear hug but the dark alicorn hacked sideways, tearing most of Astral’s chest open before she teleported backwards and out of the grasp.

Unfazed, Astral surged forward, intent on trampling over Moon. Nightmare Moon tossed her sword to the side and braced herself. The two alicorn’s collided, Astral slamming against Moon’s neck and chest with the force of a tumbling boulder, but Moon stood firm, kicking up huge clods of dirt in her struggle to stay in place and push back.

“Last time you avoided close quarters.” Astral purred, pushing her forehead against Moon’s.

Moon grunted. “I got better at it.” She twisted her body and pushed Astral to the side, but stayed in close stabbing with her horn, and striking out with her hooves. Astral’s whole body shifted and stretched to avoid being hit, while she herself lashed out with her tendrils. Moon dodged and teleported back and forth by inches, repositioning over and over while still working to land a hit. But while Astral had zoned everything out, Astral grabbed the root with her magic and swung with full force, bashing through most of Astral’s head and neck and flattening her to the dirt.

“You learned finesse in your movement.” Moon panted, dancing from side to side while Astral picked herself up. She rubbed at a cut on her chin. “But you’re just not as fast as me, and you’re unlikely to be. I’m gaining power just as fast as you are.”

Astral’s brutalized body shaped itself back to form. Her eyes swam along her flesh back into place on the sides of her head. “Shut up and fight!”

“Hah!” Moon nodded in agreement. “Hyaah!” She resummmoned her sabre and slashed.
Astral rolled to the side and slammed a hoof into Moon’s gut, knocking the breath from the dark alicorn and throwing her back a few steps.  Astral took the opportunity to look around, and spied the metal rod that held up the house sidgel above the entrance of the castle keep. She grasped it with her magic and yanked the rod off the wall, tearing its fixtured from the stone. She bore the pole like a spear, with the length of cloth bearing the sidgel still hanging off it.
Nightmare Moon, though recovered from the gut hit, stayed crouched, eyeing Astral and waiting.

Astral attacked first, stabbing forward with the rod. Moon ducked back, but when she tried to get in closer for a sword slash Astral retreated just as much, keeping the end of the rod pointed her way. Moon jumped diagonally, going for Astral’s hooves, but Astral jumped up and slammed the rod down, almost impaling Moon against the ground. She did not have time to free the metal rod before Moon was on her hooves again, advancing and slashing with her sabre.  Astral tried tangling the other alicorn in her tendrils again but Moon quickly withdrew, severed all of Astral’s twisting appendaged, and charged in again.
Astral was left fully on the retreat, counter-punching and bucking wildly to try to make Moon relent, to no avail, and second by second more and more muscle and flesh was slashed off of the beastly alicorn’s blocking limbs and exposed sides. In a moment of desperation Astral reversed her momentum, shielding herself with one of her bony wings and trying to bowl Moon over. But Moon was weary to that kind of attack and bore the hit, sliding back before blasting Astral in the hindquarters with a point-blank magic bolt.  Astral fell into the dirt for a third time, a lump of poorly defined pink and red ropes of flesh.


“Wow, I’m going to feel this one tomorrow.” Nightmare Moon stretched her legs, groaning at how her muscles burned. “We should make this a regular thing. I need to keep in shape, and keep my instincts sharp. I don’t want to lose to some johnny-come-lately alicorn or Star because I was lazy.”

Astral Nacre was intent to prove her durability. Her giblets, severed from one end of the garden to the other, coalesced back onto her core. “You take me too lightly.” Her psychic voice conveyed her building rage.

“Yeah, I do. I could be doing a lot more to stymie your repair.” Moon took the time to heal her own wounds, alleviating the sting of cuts and bruises, popping one of her legs back in the socket. “If you’re offended I’m sorry. I either get playful or very angry when I fight. I’ve discovered that about myself.” 

Astral was mostly back into her pony shape. She looked battered and discolored from her normal, but remained defiant. “I still won’t surrender. You won’t change my mind, Ancepanox.”

“I’ll find a way to win, trust me.” Moon promised. “How about you though? Do you have a plan? It’s doubtful.I think your main failing is a logical one. For a creature with wings, you think remarkably two-dimensionally.”


To disprove Moon’s words, Astral jumped backwards, then flapped her wings to get up in top of the rampart.  To Moon’s amusement, Astral launched even higher into the air, doing a loop. But that amusement ended when Astral’s horn began to burn with white magic, and all the grass and flowers in the garden began to grow out of control- that is, it grew as much as it was able, wrapping Moon up to her ankles, before the plants went beyond their biological limit and wilted to dust, all within a matter of seconds.

“Naught shall remain, if I wish it!” Atral let out a psychic scream. “The mortals you care so much about are mine to move!”

“Damn alicorns.” Moon growled, shaking off the layer of dust, so recently the beautiful garden.

Nightmare Moon launched herself into the air. There was a moment of hesitation, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do after she’d already jumped a dozen meters above the ground.  Then she spread her wings, and with with a satisfying twist of muscles pushed them down- a wingbeat. And like that the black alicorn stayed aloft.








Inside the Castle Magoria keep, Sel Lech Sabonord was lounging in one of the parlors, mulling events of the last few days with a glass of cider, when a tremor ran through the room.
He sat up, cradling his drink. Had that been an explosion?

Velvet’s maid trotted into the parlor. “You should leave Captain Sabonord. Lady Velvet is unlikely to be able to see you tonight.”

“Why? What’s happening?” Sel pushed back a curtain.
A flash of light and a thunderous crash shook the foundations of the castle.

“Two alicorns are fighting nearby. There is a chance of collateral damage. Please step away from the door, sir.” The maid urged.

“If the window is hit by a stray spell it won’t matter where I’m standing.” Sel said. He saw two shadows streaking through the air, launching spells of many colors at each other, colliding and breaking off, circling and diving.  “Is it that nightmare, Ancepanox? I guess she wasn’t on our side after all.”

“It is not easy to tell. She is fighting Astral Nacre, not us.” The maid said. “Perhaps I should set out an extra chair for her at dinner. Will you be joining us too, Captain Sabonord?”

Sel set his glass on a chair and brisky trotted out of the room. “No. Lady Velvet won’t want to talk shop if she’s hosting a guest. Besides I have some sudden work I have to get to. Half of Canterlot can see the light show. I need to grab some ponies…. If there is going to be a riot I need to be on top of it.”









Astral banked to the left, right into Nightmare Moon’s path as the dark alicorn was building her speed to swipe at Astral again with her sabre. Moon tucked her wings and dove, barely missing Astral’s attempt to entangle her in her tendrils.  Moon’s dive almost flew her right into the keep before she teleported, repositioning her back over the battlements.

No matter how many hits she took by both physical and magic attack, Astral shrugged it off, her tissue and fiber reconnecting itself. In a population center like Canterlot, Moon would kill thousands of ponies if she brought to bear the kind of power that could actually incapacitate the other alicorn.

“Getting tired?!” Astral asked, flappin up to Moon’s altitude and latching onto the side of Castle Magoria like a gargoyle.

“I’m getting annoyed, mostly.” Moon let out a hot breath. Under the moon’s direct light, the glow around her mane and eyes got brighter, but the night would not last forever. After that the battle would be much harder and, ultimately, not worth fighting. She would have to retreat. If she lost here, Nightmare Moon would have to write off all her hopes for Astral Nacre.  “I wanted this to be decisive but I’ll win on technicality if I have to.”

“Ancepanox, I love the way you talk! So arrogant, so sure of yourself! I wish i could be you.” Astral cooed. “But I feel that way too. I feel victory in my grasp.”


“Let’s fix that.” As exhilarating as it was to be in the air, Moon was at home on the ground. She landed in the burning garden, sending up a swarm of embers.
“Astral, surrender.”

“You’re making me hungry, Ancepanox! Give me just a taste of you!” Astral was slipping into the sadistic battle mania Moon identified as a sign an alicorn was getting more engrossed in the fight than the consequences. She gave it thirty seconds before Astral started attacking indiscriminately and the collateral damage became catastrophic.

So it seemed, by Moon’s judgement, it was time to use magic to incapacitate Astral Nacre, with the kind of power that could harm thousands of ponies in a population center like Canterlot... If used incorrectly. There was nothing for it but to roll the dice.
She squared her stance. Shimmers of magic began to fall around her. A strange music began to fill the air...








The night air was treating Twilight Velvet and Night Light well. They were enjoying a leisurely walk back to Castle Magoria. The blocks of townhouses that ran beside the Canterlot city wall were separated by atypically wide streets, to allow for troop movements in times of defense. Over the years they had been transformed into a pretty boulevard like one would see in the eastern edge of the city, with trees and separated pedestrian and cart paths.


“Have you chosen where we might hide if we have to abandon Canterlot?” Night Light hummed, enjoying the casual pace of their walk.

“Somewhere in the West. One of the old castles in Unicornia I think.” Velvet shrugged. “It is beautiful in the mountains this time of year. The slopes and valleys are alive with wildflowers.”

Night Light thought about it. “Did you ever hear back from Sojourn.”

Velvet laughed. “Are you thinking about spending our exile on the Smokey Mountain with him? It would be a nice view, at the least.”



A subtle shockwave washed over them.  Windows cracked, dust showered down from taller buildings.

“Are we under attack?” Night Light croaked.

“Of a sort….” Velvet hummed. Her brow furrowed.  “Have you heard any rumors of a black pony or a black alicorn around town?”

“You mean, Iillor or Ancepanox?”  Night Light took a few steps towards the nearest wall tower, to get a better view of what was attacking the city. “Why? What are you detecting?”

“Dream magic.” Velvet, unlike her husband, turned and galloped away from the direction of the shockwave. “Meet me at Castle Magoria! Keep the knights and militias away until I get there!”

Night Light hastily made his way up the tower, emerging on top of the city wall.  He could immediately see why Velvet was running: Castle Magoria was surrounded by a glow, an aurora-like light of many vivid colors.
And above the castle, shockingly huge in the sky, the gibbous moon lingered. As untrained as Night Light was in magic, even he could tell that moon was watching the city.








A coursing ring of dark blue energy formed around Nightmare Moon. A thrum rang in the ears of everypony in a kilometer radius.

Astral Nacre found herself inexplicably falling down to earth, the moonlight around her wings becoming a heavy goop that weighed her down. She flapped feverishly, trying to regain height, but the ground rose faster and faster underneath her. Before she realized what was happening, she lost all perception from her senses.



Astral found herself standing in a lightless world. She knew on some level she was still in the garden, but could no longer see it. She reached up and discovered her body parts no longer collided with each other. It was like she was a ghost!

“A dream?” Astral looked around. So, Nightmare Moon could cast her into a dream without her consent, and indeed while she was resisting it! Was it just her mind in the dream, or her body as well? Astral did not know, but understood the dire implications of such powers.



“This can end, when you find your place. All of this is to help you.” Moon’s voice carried through the lightless void, before the mare herself appeared. Moon was no longer glowing, at least not in that strange place. “Has there ever been a place that you called home?”

“Canterlot.” Astral said acidly.

“No, I mean, home.” Moon said emphatically. “When you rest your head, where do you feel comfortable? It may not be a place you’ve been, or that even exists anymore…  But it is where your dream will reside. Think deeply.”

Astral moved through the lightless place, right up to Moon.  A bloom of light surged around them, fuzzy at first, then resolving into shape. They were in a sea of sand, an endless desert, whose light sands looked blue in the dead of the night. The moon was still overhead, bathing Nightmare Moon in silvery rays.

“Do you call this fighting, Ancepanox? If the violence has stopped, then start teaching me.” Astral hissed. “What am I supposed to see? What am I supposed to learn from this place? Visions won’t deter me.”

Moon smirked. “You’re mistaken. The violence hasn’t stopped. You haven’t surrendered yet.”


Astral lashed out, curling her tentacle mane around Nightmare Moon’s head, and wrenched it around.
The dreamlike desert dissolved away. Astral was still in the garden, a few paces away from the other alicorn. Disoriented, Astral fell into a sitting position, dropping the object she’d pulled off Moon, which landed with a clink of metal.
When Astral had pulled off Moon’s helmet, she’d taken a visceral amount of skin and fur with it.  But the removal of the scalp had not exposed the skull-  Underneath where the helm had been fused to the skin, was a burbling mass of white magic, which seemingly filled the spaces that would be brain and bone in a pony’s head.

Moon staggered a few paces, as if drunk. Her eyes quivered, focussing on the helmet on the ground.
“Oof..  You’ve… cross the line.” Moon reached up with a hoof, tracing the line of missing skin as it ran up the bridge of her nose, around her eyes, to under her ears. Despite the missing flesh her ethereal mane continued to wave in defiance of gravity. “You’re about to see…  See why you shouldn’t defy a daughter of the Dreamscape.”

Moon’s horn flared to life. Her telekinetic magic coalesced around the remaining pieces of her armor: Her cuirass and horseshoes.  With a sickening squelch, the metal-fused flesh began to tear.







When Night Light arrived on the scene, the aurora around Castle Magoria had disappeared, replaced by a cloud of ash and dust centered around the interior garden.

“Goodness gracious. Hopefully the castle isn’t a loss.” Night Light groaned. Thankfully, whatever or whoever had attacked hadn’t disturbed Canterlot’s geological foundations- With Castle Magoria abutting the edge of the plateau it wasn’t implausible for the whole south corner of Canterlot to collapse into the valley.

A few of the knight patrols and local vigilante militias in the neighborhood had gathered near the outer ring wall of the castle, debating what to do. There was no sign of the knights who had been assigned to guard there.

“Lord Night Light.” One of the purple knights beckoned him over. “We don’t know the situation. What are your orders?”

Night Light had the morose idea that he could send the purple knights, lacking in ego as they were, as sacrificial lambs to reconnoiter the castle. He pushed that thought aside. Besides, Velvet had told him to wait until she got there.
“Take defensive positions. Move those benches under those trees for a firing position, and you knights stay over there. If the enemy, whoever they are, emerges out this gate we can attack with a pincer.”


But as the militiaponies and knights were moving into position, the castle gate creaked open. Nothing emerged for several long moments.

Then, a whole procession of ponies filed out through the gate, single file, their stride even and methodical, their vacant gaze straight ahead. It appeared to be the entire castle staff and guards, including the knights.

“What in the goddamn?” One of the militiaponies uttered.

Night Light was filled with confusion and revulsion. They were acting like the zombie ponies Astral had created!  If Astral had gone and mutilated more ponies Night Light was going to kill her!
But before his rage could build any more, the real culprit revealed herself.


“I’m getting just a taste of it…   The world you’re building here is beginning to flower in the heads of its ponies. But only just. It will have to be nurtured and grown before its fragrance begins to carry.”
Night Light had almost forgotten about the nightmare, Ancepanox, before Velvet’s reminder. He wished he could have gone his entire life without seeing her again-  The black alicorn had become something like a…  It defied Night Light ability to describe!  Regions on her head, chest, and hooves glowed bright white, and from those spots emerged teeming masses of white magical tendrils, that waved and twisted in the air.  Ancepanox looked less like a pony and more like an anemone, her multitudional new appendages filling the air around her.
The moonlight grew more harsh around them.


“We’re not going to be doing any nurturing if you keep up this stunt.” Night Light released his confusion, revulsion, and fear in a barb at the transformed alicorn. For good measure he added a sarcastic  “my Lady.”  

Horrifyingly, the nightmare turned its head towards him. Everything above her nose and cheeks were missing into that strange white light, and thus no eyes, but still Night Light could feel the weight of her attention.
“Take the compliment, sir.”

Night Light didn’t dare respond. The ponies around him had their own response: Run. The miltiaponies scattered into the bushes and down the streets, abandoning their guns. The knights backed away too, the terror of the situation penetrating their dull engineered minds.

“Astral is around here somewhere. And I do mean somewhere. Maybe she can hear us.” The black alicorn laughed to herself. She took a few steps closer to Night Light, and the luminous tendrils trailed behind ever so slightly. “I sent her into the dreamland, physical body and all. I’ve never done that before, heh heh. As I get more powerful, who knows what kinds of things I could exile forever into that maddening place, or even pull out of it, heh heh heh.”
Nightmare Moon crouched by the stallion. “Do you think your daughters would be proud of you?”

Night Light clenched his teeth.

“If I transformed you to resemble how you think of yourself, your children won’t even be able to recognize you anymore.” The nightmare grew ever closer. She stopped right above Night Light, leering over him as she so enjoyed to do to ponies.  “Do you think they’d recognize you now? You live a lie, little pony.”

One of the luminous tendrils got dangerously close to Night Light’s face. His eyes flashed to where the enthralled ponies were watching, listless. “Tshhh” He hissed through his teeth.

“Yes, I could steal your dreams too. And look what a pony is without their dream.” Moon motioned to the vacant-eyed ponies.  “You, and Twilight Velvet, and Fleetfoot-” She cut herself off. “Ahh, I did that elicit a reaction? Yes, Astral is starting to get desperate. She thinks she can break through the barrier between realms through sheer hatred! She will rage, and I will laugh, and will win. I can’t hurt her, but I can hurt her, hah hah hah.”



A wizz and a pop, and Nightmare Moon flinched. Somepony had shot her. She growled, shoving Night Light backwards and turning towards the direction the shot had come from.
“What absolute genius decided it was a good idea to fire a gun at a target when your liege is right next to it?!” She shouted across the street.

Night Light saw a few ponies crouching behind a fence- Sel Lech had brought a half-dozen commoner volunteers in black jackets, the same from the attack on the tenement, all now staring down Nightmare Moon behind the sights of their old guns.

“If you pretend to care about ponies, then don’t involve Canterlot in your fight. We’re not pawns to use in your games.” Sel shouted back at the alicorn.


“Games? Is everything games?! There are so many other trivializing ways to describe it. But games don’t matter. Games are fun, instructive, and foalish. Is the fate of your planet a game?” Moon ranted. The tendril cloud around her began to recede, returning her to more conventional alicorn proportions, albeit still with patches of light where her hooves, head, and chest should have been. “Maybe it is! You small minded creatures can’t grasp the powers you’re dealing with, even in the abstract. You can only think of it as games or you’ll go mad. Pitiful! I tell you, every time I interact with you mortals, the more I hate you and love the alicorns. The more I interact with alicorns, the more I hate them and love you mortals. There is no winning. Everything on this planet is worthless. I try to help and I’m constantly rebuffed!”

“How about you go back to the moon if you hate our world so much?” Sel mocked.



Nightmare Moon began to mumble indecipherably. Night Light could tell it was not a spell or incantation, just inflamed, infuriated venting.

Night Light gathered his courage. It was time to go on the rhetorical attack. “What happened to you?” He asked, honesty in his voice. “The first time you were here, it wasn’t hard to tell, you were an overwhelmed, naive filly. You talked large, but your lines and taboos were as clear as day. You were, I risk to say, a normal pony.”

“Yes I was.” Nightmare Moon hissed. “I thought I was. I thought I lived the life of any other mare, that I was born normally, that I would die when my time came. At some point, I would even start a family.”
She turned to him. The viscous light had faded away, replaced by normal skin and fur. All the missing regions of her body were normal.

And there she was. The nightmare of the moon without her armor, without magic. From her deep purple-blue eyes to her unshod hooves, the black alicorn was as natural, as real, as raw as she had ever been for the last thousand years. Her fur was silky smooth. Her mane cascaded in long locks around both sides of her neck- It sparked now and then.
The mare once concealed behind the armor was no different, but she was shivering. What for? What cause did a god have to shiver? Not from vulnerability, nor cold…


“Who is my family now?” Moon choked out. “Celestia is dead. Luna is dead. I’ve killed the other ancient alicorns I’ve come across. I kicked Anima Astral Nacre back to her own constellation. Of alicorns, I have the pick of your Astral, and the gallery of metal balls in Maredia!”

Night Light knew he had to approach this carefully. “Celestia faced similar questions, you know.”

“And it drove her insane! Is being a ruler really the same as having a family? Celestia was our princess, our priestess, and our empress. The love and respect only flowed one way, and the authority only flowed the other. She hated ponykind. They were not worthy to be her family.  I’m starting to see what she meant!”
Nightmare Moon continued to rant. The ponies she had enthralled started falling to the ground asleep, as her grasp on them weakened.
“How can there be true love when one member can strike the other without retribution? How can there be responsibility when ponies can level mountains with the wave of their horn? Our pony brains scream out for companionship, for compassion to and from one another…  To be cruelly stomped by reality.” She breathed through her teeth, holding back tears. “How am I supposed to interact with you ponies. Will it ever be normal? Will I ever…  will I ever…  sit down and read with a filly? No joy to see her learn, to grow up…   Your world is forever cut off from mine.”

“That’s not true.” Night Light said. “The world Velvet and I are building-”

“Is contradictory! Is nonsensical! You want to have it both ways, where ponykind is both apotheosized and grounded in humility. It’s not possible. I KNOW it’s not possible.” Moon shook her head. “I…   I am gradually coming realize the horrible truth that has been nibbling at me. Some dreams…  were never meant to be realized.”



There came a growing sound of hoofsteps coming up the brick path towards them. Ripple Wreath and Fleetfoot passed through the picket line of volunteers, trotting right up to Nightmare Moon.

Moon let out a long sigh, breaking her staring contest with Night Light to face Wreath. “Did you find the book?”

“A tall red mare with a long mane took it, years ago.” Wreath reported.

“Phyte.” Night Light supplied softly. “She fled Canterlot at the Eternal Night’s advent.”

Moon looked downcast. “Then the magic I sensed from it…”

“A book seller in town owned the book for a few years. It mutated him before the red mare took possession. False positive.” Wreath continued. “I’m sorry my lady. I’ll do better next time.”

Night Light felt a new knot in his stomach. “You’re going after The Elements of Harmony.”


“Harmony destroyed an alicorn a thousand years ago. Can it do it again?” Moon said grimly.
She spread her wings. “Fleetfoot, I’m going south. Would you like to come?”

Fleetfoot had no idea what was going on, besides some kind of stalemate between the Canterlot ponies with their guns, and Nightmare Moon. “Yeah why not.” She muttered. Moon had promised her to fix her curse. Fleet still wanted that, but maybe she could find a way to make that treacherous Rain Gnash suffer during the process.

“I’ll await your return.” Wreath bowed his head and backed away. “Don’t hurt Astral too badly. We have to live with her after this.”

“I’ll release her from the dream once I get far enough away.” Moon mumbled. “After that it’s up to her.”



“We can talk this through.” Night Light insisted. “There can be a place for you here.”

Moon shook her head.  “Sorry father. The only place for me is six feet under.” 
She launched into the air, ascending rapidly to the level of the clouds.  Fleetfoot bowed to Night Light and Ripple Wreath, then took off after her.  The two dots in the sky circled for a few moments then turned south, streaking through the dark skies.

At some point the moon’s light had faded to a normal level.



Another disaster, another dark night that left Night Light staring at the rapidly shrinking shape of the perpetrator.

“It’s going to be very hard to keep this one under wraps.” Sel Lech trotted over to him. “All of south and eastern Canterlot must have seen that light show. At least fifty ponies saw that alicorn directly.”

“Velvet should be here soon. Ask her about it.” Night Light said softly. He felt so defeated. “Make sure Astral is okay. She’s probably on the castle grounds. Keep your distance.”

“Aye, my lord.” Sel nodded. “I just want to ask…  Are you okay?”


Besides living a lie? Night Light wanted to sleep. Everything ached, especially his heart. Maybe after a rest everything would be good again, and he could go back to uplifting Canterlot and ponykind...
All his struggle and effort, for a plan that could be dismissed in an instant as contradictory and nonsensical. Night Light knew he wasn’t sleeping this one off. His building anxieties had been vindicated. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep the act up.


“I feel fine.” He promised Sel. “Bring an extra large chair for the Council of Ponies tomorrow. If I can predict Velvet’s mind, she will want Astral to sit in on the trails tomorrow. Won’t that be interesting.” He trotted towards Castle Magoria, and a warm bed. “Good night Sel.”

“Good night my lord.” Sel nodded.
Sel sniffled. It was a cold night. “Well what can I say.” He announced to nopony in particular.  “That’s just the way it is.” He looked around. Ripple Wreath had left, and the volunteers he’d brought with him had dispersed as soon as the confrontation was over. He was alone in the street with the sleeping castle staff. “Hmmm hmmm hmmm.” Sel hummed a little tune as he strolled up the street, in search of some lackey to help clean up the mess.
That’s just how things were: The boss made the mess and ordered him, and Sel ordered the next pony down. So it would go forever in all likelihood, until revolution or apocalypse wiped away every sign of the way things had been before- In burning fire in both cases.