The sleep was dreamless, even though Penumbra could feel Eternity wandering on the periphery of her mind. That was not really a dream, though. Just part of her life; the force that kept her asleep.
Then, in an instant, she was no longer asleep. She was moving before she was even aware, and when the world cleared she found her hooves wrapped around a pony’s neck.
“Please don’t squeeze me!” squeaked the girl. “Princess, please, it’s just me?”
“Huh?” Penumbra blinked and realized that it was one of her crystal nurses. “Wait. Your name is Facet Flare, isn’t it?”
The young mare gasped, suddenly panicked. “You know my name?!”
“Sometimes I hear you and the others talk. I didn’t notice you had names at first. But I guess now I do.”
“Can you...can you let go? Can’t...BREATHE!”
“Oops. Sorry.” Penumbra released her.
The crystal mare gasped and rubbed her neck. She was not much older than Penumbra looked, so probably fifteen or so. She looked down, though, at the blanket where Penumbra had been sleeping. “You sleep on the floor?”
“And you snuck up on me while I was sleeping! Don’t do that! Unless you’re trying to assassinate me. Then I’ll get you first!”
Penumbra took a defensive stance. Facet squealed and cowered in a corner.
“Noooo! Please forgive me, princess! Don’t hurt me! I- -I only came with a message!”
“Message?” Penumbra’s wings tingled, imagining suddenly who it might be from. If it was from Zither, this was exactly like the plot of several books she was technically not allowed to read. Or even Luciferian. Even though he was a traitor, that only made the attraction more alluring. “From whom?”
“From the steward!”
“Oh.” Penumbra’s heart- -and wings- -fell. “She’s not that attractive.”
“Excuse me?”
Penumbra blushed deeply. “I said nothing!”
“Oh. Yes. The steward, she sent for you. She wants you dressed and prepped within the hour.”
“Why?”
“She has a meeting scheduled. I don’t know the details, I’m just a house-slave!”
“In the middle of the night?”
“The steward does not sleep much.”
“Because Nightmare Moon will try to assassinate her too?”
“What? No. It’s nightmares, but not from that. From...” She gestured toward her forehead. “You know...”
Penumbra frowned. She did understand, but did not like the implications. Only Nightmare Moon, the enemy, caused nightmares. That an action performed by Sombra in pursuit of wise and just rule could cause them disturbed her, and made her irrationally angry with the slave girl. Regardless, she understood her duty.
“Did she have a specific outfit in mind? I have three now. So many.”
“She brought over a special set. Please hurry. It does not do well to annoy the steward. I need this job. I can’t go back to the mines.”
“So be it. Dress me, slave.”
Facet bowed, and the process commenced.
Upon emerging, the steward was already waiting, her already sallow skin illuminated nearly silver by the harsh green glow of the Citadel’s night-hours crystal lanterns. She did not seem tired in the least, nor especially angry. At least not angrier than normal.
Penumbra bowed to her. She had been dressed in what was, essentially, yet another suit of armor. It was similar to her ceremonial consume in that it was somewhat ornate- -made of dark, gleaming metal and adorned with stones in black and red- -but it actually seemed to be built as a real suit of armor, as if it really would protect her in a fight. Some of the fit was actually superior to her other clothing; she made a note to remind Emeth of the alterations.
Most strangely, though, was that she had been given a cloak. It was far fancier than what she normally wore, but it covered her wings and most of her face, leaving only her mouth exposed. This excited Penumbra greatly, because the only time she wore cloaks was when she was going to be allowed to go outside.
“You look adequate,” said the steward. She began walking. She herself was also in formal clothing, a sort of set of robes. They were a strange shade of white, lined with silver and with linear patterns of red running through the upper part. Penumbra at least found her incredibly impressive, even regal- -though the deep scar on her forehead still filled her with a strange mixture of sadness and adoration.
“What are we going to do, if I may ask?”
“I require your assistance.”
“With what?”
The steward looked down at Penumbra, scrutinizing her. “I have a critical diplomatic meeting scheduled. And I believe you can be of assistance.”
“A meeting? In the middle of the night?”
“I should not need to explain time zones to you.”
“Equestrian Proper is only an hour different from the Empire.”
“Equestria Proper and the Crystal Empire are not the only nations on this planet, nor the ones I take issue with. Additionally, half of Equestria’s population is chiropteran, or bat-ponies. They are generally nocturnal.”
“I heard a rumor that you have nightmares.”
“Such rumors are a dangerous thing to the teller. They tend to result in one growing somewhat shorter by about a head’s height. No. It is not nightmares. It is brain damage. Our horns are deeper than they appear. They go to the center of our brains.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize- -”
“Of course you didn’t. No one does, until their horn is held in front of them. It truly is a...profound sight. Regardless, it benefits me. I am busy during the day.” Her eyes turn. “Or would you rather I had not awoken you?”
“I am ready for my new independence and responsibilities,” said Penumbra, almost comparatively. “If that happens at night, so be it.”
The steward led her deep into the Citadel, toward one of the many places that Penumbra had never been before. They did not move at a rushed pace, but instead at the normal brisk pace that the steward always used.
They eventually reached a room, its door not guarded by thralls but by type-H golems. Penumbra had largely learned to recognize the types from Emeth, and knew that these were one of the most severe. Yet, as the steward approached, they lowered their spears and allowed her to enter without a single word. Penumbra was allowed to follow.
The room behind the door was large and circular, somewhat like an amphitheater. It was initially dark, but several large clicks sounded as dim crystal lamps hummed to life. Penumbra found that the walls were decorated with tattered black banners, not unlike the ones Sombra kept in his throne room. There were also several ominous, brutalist columns supporting the room, somehow absurdly matching with its otherwise mysterious and strange crystal structure. Otherwise it was spartan and unpleasantly damp.
“May I ask a question?” asked Penumbra.
“At the moment, yes. Once the palantiri are activated, no.”
“Palantiri?”
The steward gestured to a half-ring of carved posts. On each one sat a sphere of carved crystal, its rear linked to a complex array of conduits and wires that fed downward and out of sight into the Citadel’s internal power architecture. One sat in the center, between all the others.
Penumbra pretended to understand. She continued with her thought. “If this meeting is so critical to our kingdom, why is the king not in attendant?”
“Because diplomacy is not the province of kings,” replied the steward, who was checking the connections to the crystal spheres. “Not except in the most dire or the most trivial of situations. Could you imagine if Celestia or Nightmare Moon themselves were to speak directly to him? Tensions would run high. Things would be said that could not be unsaid. Those conversations are not diplomacy. They are private discourse between beings beyond our realm of understanding.” She turned and faced Penumbra. “Mark this well, because my lifespan is finite and this job may fall to you, in time. A diplomat is a filter. To dispense the will of the king, and to bring only the most critical news to his attention, should it be good or ill.”
“And this task falls to you?”
“It is the king’s vision which creates our Empire, and his will that forges our destiny. His word is law, and his laws his truth. But he has no time for minutia like this. Those tasks fall to me, and this place in his organization is my greatest honor.”
“And what do you need me for?”
“Stand here.” Penumbra moved to the central area, which had been demarcated near the central sphere. “You will remain silent. Watch carefully, and learn. Should I require you, you will no.”
Penumbra frowned, not fully sure what this meant. Her whole life had been spent following orders, though, so she did so instinctively. “I can do that.”
“You had better.” The steward checked a silver pocket watch. “The time is upon us.” She stepped forward to the central sphere and placed a hoof on it. It began to hum and glow at her touch, as though the center were filled with a swirling but sickly form of milk.
“These are merely lesser palantiri,” she said, sounding somewhat somber as she admitted it. “The original was the treasure of my kingdom. Our Eternal King learned its deign. These were forged by his magic and skill.”
Penumbra gaped at the devices. She had not realized her father did anything except rule; the thought that he was a mage capable of creation had never occurred to her. She hardly had time to question it, though, because the system began to vibrate violently but briefly as the secondary spheres began to charge.
Then, in an instant, images formed, rendered from magic as partially colored holograms. The enlarged images of ponies appeared in the room, one by one- -although not all of them were ponies.
Penumbra recognized some of them. Namely the first to form, the one that had apparently been waiting the longest. Their clothing looked almost like it had in Emeth’s holograms, though it had grown shorter and more conservative from the robes of the past, and the number of jewels that these donkeys wore had increased substantially. There were two jacks, one young and comparatively dashing, and one jenny, apparently the leader. They were the diplomats of Assyria.
Beside them was a projection of a creature Penumbra could not identify; they were tall, feathered things resembling ponies crossed with birds of some sort.
Past the bird-things was the delegation from Equestria proper. They were, as expected, represented by the three primary races of ponies: a bulky female earth-pony, a male Pegasus in exotic robes, and an exceedingly effeminate looking white unicorn. With them, though, was a fourth, standing apart. He belonged to a race Penumbra had never seen before. He was like a Pegasus, although he had the wings of a bat; his eyes were like that of Sombra’s, except green instead of red.
On the opposite side, one sphere failed to light. Another projected an image of a hulking hairy beast adorned in a military uniform and plastered with medals. That, Penumbra supposed, was a yak.
The last image was just that of an enormous eye. At first Penumbra supposed that was some representation of an unseen and mysterious race, perhaps even a dark wizard. As the eye blinked and retracted, though, she realized that whoever owned it had simply been too close to the image.
“Is this thing on? How do I tell if it’s on? Stupid pony stupid...thing.” The image shook as the transmitter was kicked. The image resolved slightly more, and Penumbra recognized the last delegate. He was, apparently, breaking the rules- -and had also apparently grown substantially since Emeth had last seen him.
Dragonlord Scorch pulled back from the palantir, eyeing it suspiciously. Another dragon appeared close to it, and then the image of a tongue. This was promptly followed by a cry of pain.
“Do NOT eat that! It is not food!”
“But it looks so tasty!”
“And it’s MY treasure, not YOURS!” Scorch raised his crystal scepter. “As punishment for touching my stuff, I order you to pick up that rock- -” he pointed “- -and bash yourself over the head with it until I think it’s funny!”
“But Scorch- -OW!”
The other dragon had commenced with beating himself, and Scorch sat down in a stone throne. “Do it more quietly!” he snapped suddenly. “And if you cry, I’ll make the whole tribe laugh at you!”
“Huhu...yes, lord Scorch.”
“You invited the dragons,” sighed one of the bird things. “Of course you did.”
“We take all allies we can,” said the steward, looking up at the images. “Abyssinia has cut ties with all of us. And Griffonstone...” She turned to the unlit receiver. “Well, it seems they no longer have the diplomatic infrastructure.”
“Only because you incited a revolution in their nation,” snapped the Pegasus delegate. “Their country is in ruin because of YOU.”
“We merely provided economic support to a democratically elected, republican leader,” sighed the steward. “We have been over this, Delegate Windbag. Or does our threat to the idea of monocratic tyranny frighten you?”
“Do you not think that is hypocritical?” growled one of the bird-things. “Coming from YOUR kingdom?”
“I assure you, are kingdom is a fully-fledged republic. Sombra represents the will of the people, and each and every one of them has selected him as their chosen representative.”
“Under penalty of torture,” whispered the earth-pony delegate.
“Yak agree with not like monarchy,” added the yak, rather loudly. “Monarchy is tool of imperialism! Suppresses agency of glorious proletariat!”
“By my own rear fires!” cried Scorch. “Why is this so BORING? If this were a tribal meeting of dragons, it would have come to blows already!” He stood up and swiped at the palantir. “Can I even hit you through this? How am I supposed to do diplomacy without VIOLENCE?!”
“That is the point of diplomacy,” snapped one of the bird-things. “Violence is never the answer.”
“No! It is the QUESTION! The answer is YES! Hit yourself HARDER, idiot, it’s not funny yet!”
“Yak agree! Resistance is pony being tiny and weak! Donkey not so tiny and slightly less weak...but more bourgeois! Yak not trust!”
“Can we PLEASE move on with business?” bellowed the Assyrian jenny, silencing the others. Her voice was surprisingly strong, and she had her hooves pushed to her temples. “I am getting a migraine, and this device costs a considerable amount of funds to operate.”
“Then let us commence,” said the steward. “My main topic of interest is the unfair and illegal Equestrian embargo of the Crystal Empire. I seek to end it immediately, with international support.”
“Or you finally admit you can’t find a way around it,” chuckled the earth-pony.
“Might I remind you,” said the effeminate white unicorn, his voice still not helping Penumbra decide if he was actually a “he”, “that the embargo is in place for a reason. To prevent you from acquiring the resources necessary to construct weapons and war-machines.”
“Our population is static. Though our attempts to breed the crystal ponies are successful, they have a low natural reproduction rate. Your nation, meanwhile, has tripled its military size in the last two years alone under Nightmare Moon.”
“She is correct,” said the Assyrian jenny. “And to be frank? I support her suggestion.”
“You can’t be serious,” said the bird-thing.
“We have received substantial pressure from our guild-unions on the subject,” retorted the older jack. “Especially our shipping merchants. We have the infrastructure for controlled, regulated, and profitable trade.”
“You mean so that you can get fat off the profits from selling weapons to terrorists,” snapped Windbag, the Pegasus.
“To be plain, we need the funds,” continued the jenny. “The war against the Saddle-Arabian rebels is costly.” She turned to the Steward. “And technology from the Crystal Empire could put a swift end to it, before any more donkeys or ponies are hurt. To restore orderly, regulated, profitable rule.”
“Huh?” Scorch sat up suddenly, apparently having been asleep. “Did somebody say weapons?”
“Yak not think is such good idea. Crystal ponies TOO dangerous!”
“For once, we agree with the yaks,” sighed the effeminate unicorn. He locked eyes with the steward. “Princess, your nation is simply too belligerent. Your repeated strikes on neighboring settlements- -”
“In disputed territory that is rightfully OURS. While Equestria Proper, meanwhile, has conquered over half the continent in the past two centuries.”
“By forging deep friendships with associated nations that share a common belief in Harmony!”
“So you claim. But what I see is a conqueror attempting to weaken a smaller empire to attempt to consume it...and all of its resources.”
The donkeys and bird-creatures began to grow nervous. They did not seem to like the idea of Equestria having control of the Crystal Empire any more than they liked the idea of Sombra holding it.
“How DARE YOU- -”
“Windbag,” said the bat-pony. His voice was remarkably soft and deep, and Penumbra could not help but feel her wings twitch beneath her cloak. “She does have a point.”
“Dagger, you traitor- -”
Dagger silenced the Pegasus with a look. “The One True Goddess is bearer of the Element of Honesty, and I respect her endless virtue with absolute reverence. If Vizier Sarrah will speak plainly, so will I.” He turned to the steward. “Nameless steward of Sombra. Yes. We do seek dominion over your kingdom.”
“You idiot!” cried the earth-pony. “What in Celestia’s name are you DOING?!”
“I do nothing in the name of a false-goddess. Besides, my words do not substantively change our discourse. The motive for the embargo is meaningless. Only that it stays in place. Lacy Pants?”
“He is correct,” sighed the white unicorn. “Though forgive him for being blunt.”
“No, yak like! Like funny bat-pony! Bat-pony want have one of yak’s daughters? Can have second-strongest smelling!”
“I thank you, Premier Grunnichov, but alas, I am already married, with two beautiful daughters of my own. And the One True Goddess also wields the Element of Loyalty- -”
“I want one of your daughters,” said Scorch. “Send over a few! Whatever you are, you look tasty!”
“Yak taste BEST! But not mean you can eat! Except dissidents, who get sent to the goulash. Them you can have.”
“Additionally,” continued Lacy Pants, who might or might not have been male, now sounding somewhat annoyed, “we fear that your nation is becoming a nest of various foul agents. Necromancers, dark wizards, students of the black arts. Every kind of depraved soul you can imagine.”
“He is not wrong,” sighed Sarrah, the jenny. “You have already declared yourself an open enemy of the changeling hive by harboring a young usurper-queen.”
“And once she enacts her coup, we will be allies with one of the most powerful nations on our planet.”
“IF she can accomplish a coup before you find half your slaves are actually insects in disguise,” added one of the bird creatures. “But a secondary queen changeling is hardly the only abomination you are keeping.”
“Indeed,” agreed Lacy Pants. “You are harboring a renegade Questlord, as well as a member of the fallen House Twilight.”
“Twilight Luciferian has been purged from the kingdom for betraying the Eternal King. He is now our enemy as much as yours.”
“There is also the disturbing matter of a mage of unknown race that has been repeatedly antagonizing Clover the Clever, as well as an unregistered master golem engineer. Clearly both rejects of Canterlot, I am sure.”
“Clearly,” said the Steward with a smile. “We offer a home for mages and sorcerers that others consider too uncouth for standard society. For the peaceful development of their arts without tyrannical limitations of their freedom.”
“You mean witchcraft,” said one of the bird-things. “Foul blackness that we must not allow!”
“ Witchcraft’ is superstition. We are the wealthiest and most technologically advanced nation in Equestria. Why? Because we allow for the pursuit of science without petty false-morality. We offer limitless freedom, something your kingdoms cannot.”
“You speak of the freedom of slaves,” said Dagger. “How interesting, the paradox of it all. But again. Not our concern.”
“I disagree,” said the earth-pony. “The presence of a heretic Questlord is most DEFINITELY our concern. As is some extremely disturbing intelligence that suggests you have acquired a chronoplexer.”
The entire room filled with murders and confusion.
“What?” laughed the earth-pony. “Did you think you were the only ones with a changeling?”
“So we have a spy,” said the steward. “Excellent. We now have a proper excuse for another sweeping purge of foul dissidents. Thank you.”
“You are avoiding the accusation,” snapped Lacy Pants, himself smiling.
“Yes. Our newest addition is, indeed, a chronoplexer.”
“A form of magic that has been universally banned due to the danger to the timestream. You are aware of this, of course.”
“Yes. That it is completely and utterly illegal. Unless that chronoplexer is named Starswirl, and lives in Equestria.”
“She is not lying,” growled Sarrah. She turned to the Equestrian delegation. “Our ancestors presented you with mutual condemnation for allowing him to practice his craft.”
“We only acquiesced when your goddess threatened not to raise the sun,” added one of the bird-creatures.
“And is this relevant?” sighed Dagger. “Starswirl is gone.”
“But the double standard still remains,” said the younger Assyrian jack. “Mother, you were correct. These ponies are such arrogant things.”
“What did you say- -” Windbag became an especially bright shade of red.
“The rules never seem to apply to you,” retorted the jack, who was still smiling. “You, who possess all the magic. If something threatens donkey-kind? Or the hippogriffs? Or the yaks, your own enemy- -do you even care? You force us to follow laws that you yourselves are except from.”
“Jermane,” said Sarrah, softly, warning him.
“If we had expanded our military as much as yours, taken as much land? Sanctions. Endless sanctions. Embargoes, like theirs. All in the name of ‘Harmony’ that only includes THREE races.” He looked to Dagger, but said nothing directly to him.
“Because you are sovereign nations,” said Lacy Pants, “and because Starswirl lived nearly two centuries ago. Times have changed.”
“Indeed they have,” said the steward. “You are no longer the most powerful nation on the planet. You no longer have leverage.”
“Says the ponies hiding behind a shield-wall,” laughed Windbag.
The steward smiled, and Penumbra knew what was coming. “Your intelligence. I don’t think it’s a changeling. It’s far too incomplete.”
“Our spies are none of your business.”
“They are when they are in my nation. But this is simply out of pity. You knew that we had a chronoplexer, but were not aware of her?” She gestured toward Penumbra.
“Who she? Yak not see! Too still, can only see things moving, or gets very bored!”
“I saw her,” said Scorch, sleepily. “I was wondering about that.”
“As was I,” said Sarrah. “Your chronoplexer, I presume?”
“Not at all. This is One of Thirteen, Twilight Luciferian’s replacement, the one who defeated him in open combat.”
“Barbaric customs,” grunted the hippogriff delegate.
“More like FUN customs,” snapped Scorch.
“She is also Sombra’s firstborn.”
The entire room fell silent and the entire Equestria delegation gaped.
“Im- -impossible!” cried Windbag, now a shade of purple. “We- -we would have known!”
“We would have known indeed,” said Lacy, calmly. “An interesting ploy, princess, but a low one. Sombra has no children, and can bear none. Even if you dress a girl in fancy robes, she is not his. We all know that.”
The steward smiled. “How quaint.”
She warped her hoof around the edge of Penumbra’s cloak and tore it off. Penumbra attempted to strike as threatening of a pose as possible, showing her demonic makeup, gleaming armor- -and most importantly her horn and wings.
There was a scream. Chairs were pushed back as ponies jumped up in horror.
“That- -that’s impossible!” cried Lacy Pants.
“The palantiri cannot be deceived, pureblood. You know that.”
“She- -she’s an alicorn!” cried the earth-pony. “That’s not possible! It CAN’T BE!”
“And yet here she is. A match for Celestia or Nightmare Moon, daughter of our king and child of the Empire. A pure, born alicorn.”
“An alicorn well into her second decade,” growled Sarrah, whose eyes were wide with panic.
“You foul traitors!” cried the hippogriff delegate, now facing the Equestrians. “You KNEW! You had to know! For twenty years- -you kept this a secret!”
“Ponies betray yaks!” cried the Premier of YakYakistan. “Knows yaks on border, yaks CLOSEST! Let scary wing-horn pony fight yaks, get rid of yaks so you not have to fight! Tiny puny little COWARDS!” He stamped his hooves violently. “This mean WAR!”
“I assure you, we had no idea- -”
“Then you are incompetent,” said Sarrah, standing up. “You knew they had a chronoplexer, because that violates your precious hypocritical laws- -but how could you not have known they had an ALICORN?”
“They must have hid her- -”
“I have not been hiding,” said Penumbra. “I have been known to this nation since my birth.”
“Celestia and Luna knew,” said the steward. She turned to the Equestrian delegation. “I was there, on the first day. They came here to see her. To attempt to assassinate their rival. It seems your precious twin-queens are keeping secrets from you mere mortals.”
“So tiny ponies DID know! Ponies LIED!”
“Calm yourself, Grunnichov,” said one of the hippogriffs.
“Yak not calm yak self! Yak ANGRY! Yak SMASH puny capitalist pony kingdom! Day-night ponies, crystal ponies, ALL PONIES!Then smash creepy bird-people kingdom TOO!”
“What did we do?!”
“Yak not know! Find reason later!”
“Calm. DOWN.” Lacy stood up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over. “This is ludicrous.”
“Indeed it is,” said the steward, still smiling. Somewhere deep beneath her, Penumbra felt a strange and distant rumbling. Her mouth suddenly tasted like metal. “Considering that this problem will be resolved momentarily.”
A sudden ruckus came from somewhere off-camera on the yak’s transmission. The premier looked around in confusion, and Penumbra heard screams and the sounds of things breaking.
“What- -what happening? Why yelling- -NO, GET BACK!”
He was too slow. In an instant, the blade of a sword was pressed to his neck. Even through the distorted colors of the hologram, Penumbra could see its mottled red coloration. From that alone, she knew who it belonged to: above her, the armored face of the Blue Knight came into focus.
“What is the meaning of this?!” cried Lacy, losing his composure as the other delegates jumped to their feet as well- -all save for Dagger, who simply looked intrigued, and Scorch, who was watching with rapt attention and intense enjoyment.
“Within the context of this meeting, the premier of YakYakistan just declared official war,” said the Steward. “As such, we are justified in our swift retaliation.”
“You’ve gone too far! This will not stand- -”
“Is not YakYakistan your enemy as well? All your enemies? We are dissolving it as a gift to you. To show that we are committed to absolute peace, and the prevention of all war and violence.”
“Ponies betray yaks! Ponies pay! Yak swear on YAK, ponies PAY!”
“Now now,” said the Blue Knight, holding his blade slightly higher and causing the yak to instantly cease struggling. “I would avoid moving too much. Or you risk a rather severe haircut. That, and you should hardly waste your time on resisting me. At this very moment my griffons-in-arms are setting vedmak explosives all over your capital. In just a few minutes, all of this shall be dust in an icy wind”
Penumbra was glad her wings were already extended.
“We shall bring freedom and liberty to all of yak kind,” continued the Blue Knight. “Additionally, since you are no longer a nation per se, you have forfeited the right to communicate with our glorious king’s emissary. So you will no longer be needing this.”
In one swift motion, the Blue Knight brought his sword down on something Penumbra could not see. The image collapsed into colorless static; no doubt he had destroyed the palantir.
“This is madness!” cried one of the hippogriffs, stepping forward and looming high over the room. “It is as though you wish to invite a war!”
“Any chance you had of ending the embargo is gone now,” said Sarrah. “You realize that, don’t you?”
“The end of the embargo was meant as an offering to forge new political alliances. In truth, it hardly affects us. We have more than enough resources in our kingdom alone. Hence why Equestria is so intent on conquering us.”
“This will lead to far more than simple sanctions,” said Lacy. “You understand that, I’m sure.”
“It means war,” said the female earth-pony. “We cannot abide by this!”
“Agreed,” growled Windbag. “This aggression cannot be tolerated!”
“There will be no war,” asserted the steward. “It is in your best interest to avoid it at all costs.”
“Really,” laughed Windbag. “Because our army outnumbers yours ten to one, plus our airship navy and Pegasus airforce. You may have an alicorn, but it is just a child. We have two fully-fledged adults.”
The steward’s smile fell. “Lacy Pants,” she said, calmly, “are you aware of the theory Clover’s asymmetric material conversion spell?”
Lacy actually laughed, albeit softly. “Of course I am. That’s your plan? A ridiculous bluff?” He looked up to the Assyrians, who were clearly quite confused. “It is a theoretical spell that involves the direct and seamless inter-conversion of matter into energy. Nothing more than a mathematical thought-experiment. The spell is impossible to perform.”
“And it got boring again,” sighed Scorch, propping his head on one hand. “BOR-RING!”
Lacy Pants frowned. “Yes, perhaps, but also trite. No mage can use the spell. Even the smallest amount of matter would be impossible to control, taking the mage with their target.”
“Unless the spell were entrapped within an ultraregal-magesty crystal,” said the steward.
“Which is itself impossible for a number of theories too complex to go into here. The technology simply does not exist. And if it did, there is no way to provide the spell with enough power to activate.”
The smile returned to the steward’s face. “Correct. At your level of technology, certainly. But our mines have discovered substantial deposits of a very particular crystalline ore. One that, when purified, results in a particular metal. We call it plutonium.”
“There is no such metal,” said the earth-pony delegate. “I would know! There are only FOUR types of metal!”
“When this metal reaches a certain critical mass,” continued the steward, “it explodes with unimaginable force. More than enough to activate an annihilation crystal.”
“Impossible,” dismissed Lacy Pants. “You are obviously bluffing. I am even beginning to doubt that that girl is even a real alicorn.”
“I assure you, the weapon is real. The force it produced is majestic. The purest beauty in all existence. Ultimate power, drawn from the will of the Witchking himself. Enough power to vaporize, say...” She slowly turned to the hippogriffs. “...a mountain.”
Penumbra saw the panic in the hippogriff’s eyes, but also anger. “Even you would not dare to use such a terrible thing,” the elder of the two said, his voice firm and untrembling. “Even as evil and distorted as you and your kingdom have become, you still have reason. Empathy. You are not nearly as heartless as you seem.”
“That is where you are incorrect, Coralquill. We are not evil at all. In fact, the Crystal Empire is the last bastion of good and purity in existence. The last realm on this dying world where freedom reigns absolute.” She shrugged. “That, and we already fired the warhead. Several minutes ago.”
The hippogriff’s eyes went wide. “You’re lying.”
“Even if you are not.” Sarrah stood. “Our entire navy will deploy to stop the delivery ship. We must not allow a weapon like that to be used. Not now, and not ever.”
“She is bluffing, you fools,” growled Lacy Pants. For just a moment, Penumbra saw a glint of white as he grimaced, a flash from a set of long, gleaming fangs. “There is no weapon.”
“We have no need for a ‘ship’,” chuckled the steward. “That would be far to time-consuming to convey my point. Delivery is simply a matter of connecting a crystal-drive to the base of a rocket. With that, we can send our warheads to any nation on the planet in a matter of ten minutes or so. Which means it should be reaching you...right about now. I am told you hippogriffs have open-roofed halls. I recommend not looking up.”
One of the hippogriffs stepped back. “Evacuate the area,” he said. “Quickly! We have to get them to the sea, NOW!”
“Sir, that isn’t possible, nor is it strictly necess- -”
The image was suddenly consumed with a surge of immensely bright light, a glow so bright that the other delegates had to cover their eyes. Dagger even screamed, being blinded by the light. Penumbra covered her face with a hoof, but the steward just stared into its light, smiling.
The glow was followed by a thudding boom of immense volume. The sound was so great that it became distorted, and as the light began to fade Penumbra found that so was the image.
“Quickly!” cried the garbled voice of the older of the two hippogriffs. “His eyes, get him a doctor!”
“The sea! GET TO THE SEA!” cried another voice.
Through the remnants of the image, Penumbra could see hippogriffs scrambling, and their hall in disarray but not outright ruins. The younger of the two delegates was lying on the ground, holding his eyes and crying out in pain.
The elder looked to the palantir, his eyes filled with unspeakable terror. He looked at the steward, and then at the Equestrian delegates. “This is madness,” he said, softly. “This is not our war! This is a war of ponies, we want no part of it!”
“Coralquill, this is not a time to break our unity,” pleaded Lacy, his composure starting to crack and the fear beneath beginning to become visible.”
“No more. We will not put our nation in danger for the sake of some political squabble! Be GONE!”
The image then went black. The transmission had been cut.
Sarrah, shaking, sat down. She seemed to have nothing to say.
“It exists,” Lacy, sitting down as well. “You fools, you actually built it.”
“But we are not mad,” said the steward. “That was a demonstration. It was programmed to detonate one mile over Mt. Aris at a forty-degree angle. With the prevailing eastward wind, their exposure to fallout will be minimal.”
“It makes fallout?” gasped Scorch. “Why do I not have one of these?!”
“Because it could mean the end of all of us,” snapped the older Assyrian jack.
“My friends,” said the steward. “No. That is not what this means. The thermocrystalline warhead is a weapon of peace, not of violence. An outright war with Equestria would be devastating to both sides, as well as neutral nations eventually embroiled in the resulting world war. With this weapon, such a war becomes impossible. No reasonable being would challenge us when the cost to their own holdings would be so incredibly dear.”
“How persuasive,” said Dagger, still blinking. “And clear evidence that Celestia’s embargo is a complete failure.”
“After what we just saw?” The earth-pony delegate stood up, but then collapsed from her legs shaking too hard. “You can turn even THIS political?”
“My observation is empirical. We sought to limit their military capacity, yet now here they stand the dominant power of the world.”
“And it is all absurd,” said Sarrah, standing. She did not shake. “We condemn the use of this weapon. Categorically. But that said, Coralquill is right. This is a war for ponies.”
The younger jack turned toward the Equestrian delegation. “Ponies who spent all their efforts trying to preserve their egos by spying on a chronoplexer but failing to notice a profoundly beautiful adult alicorn princess, as well as the doomsday missiles.” Upon hearing that, Penumbra blushed slightly, and the jack smiled at her.
“Or purposefully kept that information a secret,” added the other jack.
“Regardless, we are neutral,” continued Sarrah. “We take NO side. Equestria can clearly no longer be relied upon. I will submit my views to the oligarchy immediately.” She looked to the Equestrian side. “If you wish to fight a losing war, or to maintain a useless and costly embargo, so be it. You will be on your own.”
Her image clicked off. As it did, the Equestrians stood.
“If all the delegates of importance are gone, we have nothing to speak about anymore,” growled Lacy. “So I bid you farewell, with a warning. From the path you have started down, there is no turning back. As a pureblood yourself, you should know. What seems like a victory now often becomes a grave failure in the long view.”
He turned, and the earth-pony and Pegasus left with him, vanishing from the image. Only Dagger remained, looking quite amused but still partially blinded.
The room was filled with laughter as Scorch stood, applauding. “Excellent! GREAT! HA, that was amazing!” He stepped closer to the palantir. “Who knew ponies had that much backbone?”
“I am glad it pleased you,” said the steward. “I had hoped that this exposition would amuse you.”
“Amuse me? It was downright FUN! I had been thinking about sending a force to take your kingdom, because, you know, the whole thing is literally made out of food...but I think I’ll wait.”
“Afraid of the weapon, Scorch?” asked Dagger.
“A weapon made of FIRE? HA! It would barely make a scratch on us. And destroy our what, rocks? They’re rocks, who cares. And us? I eat fire for breakfast and pass it out the back end before lunch. Which is also fire. Sometimes with opals, but sweet furry rugs, talk about fire on the back end from THOSE!” He laughed loudly. “My point? Time is all wrong. You ponies only live a few centuries at most. I’ll wait, because the look on that frilly guy’s face? You’re in for a big fight. That’s for sure. And whoever wins, the dragons fight that guy.” He grinned. “That way, we can have the MOST fun.” He suddenly frowned. “SLUDGE! Stop hitting yourself with that rock! It was funny about thirty minutes ago, now it’s just boring! And somebody figure out how to turn this magic dingus off, it’s almost lunchtime and you know what THAT means!”
Much to Penumbra’s relief- -but also slight disappointment, if only due to her inherent youthful curiosity- -the image from the Dragonlands vanished. That meant that only Dagger remained.
“And you?” asked the steward, turning to him. “Your thoughts?”
“Only that the dragon may be right. And that’s unfortunate.”
“How so?”
“Because a war would be such a waste. A mere grab for resources, another step toward an impossible vision. I think that peaceful unification may be possible, although you have certainly made it more difficult.”
“It was never possible.”
“There is the option of political marriage.”
“You would want us to give up our princess?”
“No. Because I am not an idiot, I can recognize herbal force-growing when I see it. But as Windbag said, we have two full alicorns. If Sombra is so great as you claim, he may prove slightly worthy to sit beside the One True Goddess. If not, he can always have the lesser sister. She serves little purpose anyway.”
“I will relay the message, though your chances are not good.”
Dagger smiled. “I know. But I will appeal to the Queen regardless. At the very least, I can convince her to slow this war. Perhaps indefinitely. The other races are quite eager for war, because they know that it is Nightmare Moon’s armies that will take the brunt of the suffering.”
“If you could lobby for a war with Celestia only...”
“Alas, the Goddess is far too loyal to do that to her beloved but inferior sister.” He sighed. “Perhaps I appear to you as a weak pacifist, but I would prefer that no pony suffers in such a needless war.”
“Then you are the only one who understands,” sighed the steward.
Dagger nodded, and with a smile his image dissipated. Penumbra and the steward were once again alone in the room.
The steward sighed, and suddenly seemed to deflate. Penumbra realized that she was shaking.
“Steward?”
“The meeting was a resounding success. The Yak’s Republic of YakYakistan was goaded and overthrown. Respect and neutrality of the Dragonlands was secured, and I believe we may have pushed the Assyrians and hippogriffs out of the conflict. We may even have ended the embargo in the process. And our weapon will put off war with Equestria, at least for a little longer.” She looked down at Penumbra. “We cannot afford a war. Not now. Not yet. Open warfare with Equestria would be disastrous.”
“But the way you did it...”
“Was effective. By sowing dissent and fear. As Scarlet Mist supposedly taught you.” She paused. “And I could not have done it without you.”
“I was a prop.”
“What role did you expect? You are a child with an impressive appearance. A weapon to show off, as our missile was.”
“I just thought...” Penumbra’s wings ruffled, and she stood taller. “I thought I would have more responsibility with handling our kingdom’s affairs. As a member of the Dark Thirteen, as a potential ruler- -”
The steward’s face was suddenly inches from Penumbra’s own, her steely eyes narrowed to small dots. “You will NEVER rule. I promise you that. The king is eternal, and his reign will never end. Attempt to usurp him and you will face me.”
“I would never- -I just want to help him!”
“You DID. As a symbol of his power. Is that not what you wanted?”
“Well...yes,” admitted Penumbra. That was, after all, exactly what Luciferian had promised her so long ago. “But...”
“But nothing. Your function is aesthetic only. Now please, come with me. I will accompany you back to your room. You need to return to bed and continue preparing for tomorrow.”
“But the next diplomatic meeting- -”
“If I require you, I will summon you. Otherwise you have no reason to be there.”
Penumbra bowed her head. “Yes, steward,” she said. “I understand.”
“Good. Make sure that you do not forget your place.”
Penumbra nodded, for she knew that she most certainly would not.