//------------------------------// // Chapter 41: Back to Ponyville // Story: Our new Friends, Our new Enemies // by The Potato Guy //------------------------------// There it was. Ponyville. That quaint little town, nestled amidst meadows and hills spawned of the literal definition of coziness. It was just as obnoxiously sweet as Solar could remember. Neatly adorned thatched housing, complete with a décor as sweet as the local candy shop. In many senses of the word, Ponyville was a textbook example of a provincial, if well off settlement. Fame however, it seemed, had done the town little good. As much as the architectural and decorative aesthetic sickened him, that quaint and soft appearance was now long overpowered by the obviously increased population of the place. Ponyville, after all, was ground zero for world defining events, events that very much so put Ponyville on the map as an eventful, but idyllic place to live and work. Regardless, the town had not changed much since last Solar saw it. Still remained the tall town hall, it flags flying proudly in the wind, the seemingly unending crop land and orchards persisted in their colourful sprawl as a red farm house lay guard, and easily most noticeable of all, the freakishly large and very much out of place, crystal tree palace. When Solar had last seen it, despite its size and contrast to the rest of the town, he had dismissed it as just another house of wealth and faux power. Now however, that abomination of a castle was the home of one Princess Twilight Sparkle, the possible future second Princess in the Night. Further seducing her to move over to a more acceptable way of thinking, however, had to wait. One step at a time had the exiled NG travelled here, with Neon Edgy and Speck now looking upon their new base of operations, highlighted nicely with the arrival of the dawn. With one step at a time, and a solidifying of a headquarters, would the Night spread its influence to its hosts, Twilight included. “Thoughts, girls?” Solar asked in a vain attempt at hiding his pride. “These types of houses make for good sleeping racks.” Neon said, her attention clearly more aligned with her desires to rest. “Although you do have to get…rid of the owners first…” Whatever could she mean by that I wonder…? Speck, on the other hoof, adhering well to her darker, far more unfriendly personality, took this viewing opportunity as very much a professional analysis. She was, after all, new to the civilisation of the north, and a stranger to actual communities that weren’t blood thirsty maniacs. “It’s qualities will be put to the test, as will your decision making, Commander Solar…” Solar, in direct response, felt a cold shiver fire straight down his spine. Never had he expected some smiling show of acceptance, but still, every time this cultist opened her mouth to him, it instilled only the most severe sense of dread within him, as if she was his personal jury, judging him for a crime that she could decree at any moment. Luna forbid that she actually dislike the Ponyville climate. “Guess that’s as good as I’m going to get…” conceded Solar, happy enough with the precarious land he had advanced into. “I’ll go and check if my house hasn’t had its locks changed or anything. You guys can give the all clear!” Seeing Ponyville, however much the sight disagreed with him, had served its purpose. A comforting, however temporary, reprieve from Celestia’s tyranny. A truly naive school of thought. “Oh no. Not yet…” It was only a gentle and the oddly soft feeling hoof of Speck that now sent Solar to lands of terror he had never before heard of. All thoughts of a hasty getaway, however legitimate in its intentions, to escape any potential horror of the Disciples, now seemed but a pipe dream. She never even gave him a gaze, knowing full well that, even her at her most inactive, was still enough to halt the higher up’s in their tracks and intentions. “For the sake of the reputation you so wish to keep, we shall not follow you…” Oh thank the stars! “…The Everfree forest will be our home for now. Its boarders are our own now, and they shall be defended to the last. Prolonging the eradication of the heathens, we will accept for now. Yet if you fail here…know this temple of treachery will no longer be so far away from us…” Petrification was a known affliction, physically speaking. In fact, it was creatures that now lie in the Everfree forest that could perform such a feat. From a Thestral, and seemingly affecting emotion as well as flesh however, was surely a new one. Speck didn’t need any reassurance of response from Solar that told her what she wanted to know. Turning around, this mistress of darkness and death knew her threat to be properly received and well heeded. She didn’t even need to look to see a numb Solar, who’s fear had near taken him, and powerful warning consumed him. The Day might have been the enemy, but never let it be said that death would come only from that direction. A silence then flooded in, even with the usually talkative Neon still present. The two were now alone, but only one of them felt truly so. “How do you feel, Sol?” Ignoring the blatant tease that was the use of the nickname, Solar dare not share his true feelings. He was the one in command here, at least officially. Regardless of sharing the same Queen, the commander of the NG, and the Disciples of the Night, did not share the same ambitions or opinions on what was right. If he didn’t keep it together, he would be delegitimised, taking those ambitions and opinions crashing down with him, and to let that void stay unoccupied, that would simply never be the case. “Fine.” Shockingly, such a simple response did not seem to convince Neon, who stood there, as if she were unable to pick a side. “The Dis-“ Any lack of confidence in his leadership was a step towards that dreaded changing of the guard, and as was the case in every time politics, questions were the start of it. Solar, not willing to be replaced by misguided maniacs, could not accept any intrusive inquiries. “I said it’s fine! And that means buck whatever those wildlings are planning. We, the Ponies who’ve actually been by Luna’s side, will lead the charge!” Solar made no mistake, this was a race to the finish line, and the prize was the power earned with Luna by their side. He would be a competition, but that implied a struggle of some kind, and by the grace of Luna, Solar wasn’t about to let this long path now so suddenly be shared. “Wildlings? My people, Solar…” Neon looked as if she were suddenly about to burst into tears. The very way she said her words was as if she were a filly trying to guilt trip her parent, but with any unruly child, discipline was needed. Eventually, they would lose their innocence of many worldly matters, and see the truth. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you…” Initially, Solar had nearly rolled his eyes, wishing to dismiss this sulk as it was, but bringing her over, like he had started with Twilight, was all too precious an opportunity. This bloodthirsty killer with the mind of a child, provided her conscience remained stable, could perhaps keep the threat of her people at bay. “But listen…Ne…” Solar cringed at the friendly attempt, but it served its purpose. “Hehe, yes, Sol?” Now Solar could roll his eyes, despite his success. If anything, Neon was at least listening. “We can’t let anypony distract us. Your people may have been serving Luna in their own way, but they know nothing of life up here, right? We, the Shadows have been defending the realm, while they fight for it down south. Please, for Luna, don’t let your blood influence you. It’s us, after all, who Luna puts her direct trust in.” While saying this, Solar looked into those rich amber eyes of Neon’s, almost falling enchanted with their mystical beauty. Mostly, however, the only thing worth searching for were any signs of their owner agreeing with him. “They may have started the fight, but Empress Luna wants us to finish it, you get me?” For a decently long while, Solar was sure Neon was about to do anything from nodding and walking off, totally disregarding the issue, to laughing at him for being so serious. Predicating the motives and actions of this little Pony proved impossible. That meant only one thing. Surprise. “Commander, I may have been born among them, but it was Luna who raised me. My loyalties are to her, not which Pony birthed me.” Today’s Neon related surprise was a strict, sensible response. One free of any filly like influences, or deranged added highlights. Walking off as Solar had offended her intelligence and beliefs, all seemed to have been for naught. “I’m with you. I always will be. Family, it sticks together…” Family indeed. And Solar and Neon, united deeper than the former could ever truly appreciate, marched down into Ponyville, determined, and very much ready to fight. Who could have known that Neon Edgy, a violent, unpredictable and pure creature of destruction, had some an acute interest in the arts? The day was still new, and the customers and townsfolk of Ponyville had not yet left their homes to begin their own day anew. It was not so early however, that the shop-owners and various vendors were not about, hurrying to open or show their goods and wares, all in time for a hoard of suckers ready to part with their, as Solar guessed, barely earned bits. A hardly complete state of the commercial activity of Ponyville, but still one apparently fascinating enough to Solar’s resident angel of death. Of course, even in her “disguise”, a crudely put together outfit comprising mostly of a hat, sunglasses, and jacket, Neon did not dare any closer, despite her curiosity fighting for that urge to come true. Thestrals aside from a special event such as Nightmare Night, were simply too rare a sight to take the risk. Such a surprise to the townsfolk would most likely warrant discussion at the very least, and such gossip, unpredictable as it was, could not be controlled, nor even manipulated. Right now, the NG was in no need of excess attention, and the news of a Bat Pony, often associated closely with Luna, was not part of the plan. “Not so close, Neon. If I can see your fangs, so can they.” While Solar was left amazed that he even had to say such foreign words, his warning, alas, went unheard of. “But everything is so….nice. I must see!” Solar shouldn’t have been surprised that Neon was attracted to such shiny things, but here he was, very much so. Her gaze greedily stolen by jewellery and food that was rapidly filling the stalls, Solar was now literally finding himself holding back his companion, filling todays criteria of Neon acting like a filly. “The buck?! No!” Solar found himself scolding, something that filled him with more anger than reason he was doing so. “We need to focus and find this house of mine. Besides, you don’t even have any money on you!” Keeping a leash on Neon was an unnecessary distraction. As soon as the two found the home Solar had been given, a trophy of a successful blackmail, the real action began. A war waged from the shadows of the lively Ponyville, and a proverbial conference of the future of Equestria. “Focus Neon. We’re looking for a house. If you’re so serious about eating, I’ll get you something after that.” Capitulating, however favourable the conditions, was surely not so wise. Neon, in moments such as these, behaved as an untrained pet would, and giving in to their desires, that was simply a recipe for further disaster. Still, in the grand scheme of things, this mattered little, a disregard Solar could accept. “Alright, so what does it even look like?” Neon’s response was one of slight upset and annoyance, easily because of her lack of culinary freedom given. Yet never short of a sharp tongue or wit as she was, Neon immediately went for the weakness in this mission, namely, the appearance of the actual destination. Well buck! Solar had not cared for the house, nor expected to return to it. As such, its general features remained elusive at best. “Well, I- hmmm” Solar could not escape this trap. His fall was not graceful, and it certainly was befitting of his rank. Should he find the house, and settle in the NG nicely, then he had a lot to make up. “Think of all the kiwi I could have eaten!” Neon complained, unimpressed at her partners recollection. “Kiwi, mango and rat! Ugh! I could-“ Solar had not thought it possible to take Neon by surprise, but here he was, tackling her into a short space by the side of a house. She may not have seen the threat, but thankfully, Solar had been ready. “Hey!” She whined, almost playfully. “Not nice of you!” Solar cared little, in all honesty. Not that Neon seemed in the particularly bitter move, given that she had been quite forcibly pushed into some alley way. Alas, perhaps retaliation would have been more desired, given the current circumstances. “You are nice and warm, Solar. I like it.” Unprepared for those forms of complications, and without a shadow of a doubt, in no definite mood to spit on Luna like that, Solar rose to feet with unmatched speed and purpose. A sly smile however, remained on Neon’s face, as if she was here only to tempt him. In his mind, Solar did momentarily entertain the thought that Neon, being the enigma she was, was just some incredibly powerful and complex magical spell cast by Luna. A construct designed to serve, and in this case, to test his love to its creator. “Not now!” Solar seethed through a hastily formed whisper. “Stay quiet!” By now, curiosity had taken Neon, and eclipsed any games she had started to play. Only now wondering why these two powerful Ponies were hiding like common thieves, the Thestral stood back up, and with little grace given to consideration, yet proudly went over to the alley opening, and stuck her head out as if it were her destiny. “What?! No, Neon!” cried out Solar, pulling his comrade back as if she were a tug of war rope. This morning, however, proved too much that it would be unwilling to allow an easy path to be beheld. Cruelly, Solar had now found himself as single minded in his determination as Neon was in her current investigation. Falling once more, although this time with their respective positions switched, the two servants of Luna came tumbling down, ironically creating more noise in their act of “hiding” than would have been in the open. “I’m starting to like this new trend” Chirped Neon, much to Solar’s both mental and physical discomfort, especially as the surprising warmth of the Thestral was felt in an overly liberal form. Obviously, this could not be allowed. And instead of facing these awkward circumstances like a stallon, and the possibly very severe consequences of which frightened Solar so much so, risk of discovery, the very reason all this mess had occurred, took preference over any alternative. “That one.” Solar fixed his gaze to the target, happy enough to be in any situation other than an intimate one with Neon. Notably, he made no attempt at pointing out the subject at hoof, leaving Neon back to the very actions that had caused her so much rough, yet apparently, desirable fun. Striking luck this time however, was that she now at least acted a little more inconspicuous. “Who?” She asked, her slit eyes thinning out into a focus more than they already could ever be. “Do I really need to point it out?” Deadpanned Solar in return. The answer, unless the world had truly fallen as much as he had done today in a literal sense, was surely rhetorical. Neon however, chose to meet the clarity of this glaring sight with inattentive if usual expectancy. Rising to her haunches, and unable to spate herself from physicality, Solar found himself in the rapidly all too familiar feeling of the Thestrals warmth. Using him as some form of climbing gear, time did not seem a consideration as she canned the sparsely populated streets of Ponyville at dawn. “Oh, you mean the pink one?” She finally acknowledged, winning Solar this small and pointless victory. “Yeah, I understand. All that pink could hurt my night loving eyes. Thanks Sol!” With her withdrawal from his back, a feeling, in the void left by one of real touch, was left behind. A cold, empty perception, and to ensure its legitimacy, Solar was sure to tell himself that this was not because Neon had pulled back. “What?” He almost stuttered, tripping over a sense of bewilderment that should have been as familiar to him as gravity was to a rock. “No! Of course not!” Aware of his increasingly inconsiderate appearance, in regards to his current ally, Solar allowed himself to be backed into a proper explanation. “I met her once before…that colourful abomination…” Studying the specimen, practically hoping not too far from him now, Solar reaccustomed himself with his previous interaction with her. In fact, less of an interaction it was, and more of an experience, and one he could confidently say was anything less than a painful one. The Pony in question, as was so fascinatingly observed, albeit a more morbid and confused observation, was surely not of this mortal realm. Endless pink, regardless of angle or light. A seemingly animated mane, with a life and mind of its own. Topping this travesty off, and aligning with his own traumatic memories of the interaction, was that overly contrasting personality that occupied her. More like a trailing pestilence than a mere personality, the real question was, how had this Pony not been contained from her breaking of the visual peace? “Isn’t that the element of laughter?” Neon then noted, her interest vanishing rapidly. “Fair enough then…” And just like that, all intrigue had been flushed away. All curiosity behind the peculiar and pushy reasoning of partner’s secrecy. “Excuse me?” Solar did not actively seek attention, least of all for reasons of shallow vanity. In any other circumstance, a more lassies-fair approach would be taken here, leaving Neon to her own interests, provided they weren’t mission related. Unusually for him though, whether or not her knew this Pony to be an Element back in their first encounter, mattered little. The only thing that did, in Solar’s mind, was the behaviour he was demonstrating. But Neon was unrelenting in her sudden professionality. At least that was what it seemed. Dismissive to distractions, and seemingly wishing to carry on to the house, the slowly departing Thestral acted, in these trying times, just as any other Pony here was. Like this freakish pink Earth Pony, one of the six Elements of Harmony, barely even existed. “Commander, keep up. You don’t seriously believe that we are unfamiliar with the Elements? Ponies who have, for better or for worse, saved the nation on countless occasions?” There it was again. That dry, almost standard seriousness of who’s owner had all too dramatically reconverted to something all the sincerer about the severity of the mission. “Not at a- “Solar began, believing Neon to be totally missing the point, and by extension, the story. “And you don’t seriously believe we haven’t already heard about your….hmm….antisocial encounter with her?” Neon could not have shown more of a clandestine invasion of his past privacy if she tried. An eerily discovery now provoking the concerning yet equally intriguing query that was, despite possibly knowing all there was to know about him, why he still was so, relatively, easily accepted into the Shadows. If the Night wasn’t so desperate and in dire need of a Pony such as he, the spying wouldn’t have been the only concerning matter. “And who is this very observant source, hmm?” Solar then asked, looking around as if he were waiting for this very timely ally. Neon was not so easily provoked into emotion however, especially of the kind that suited for next piece of concerning news. “Long gone. We weren’t so happy when, obviously Celestia, discovered him…” Unfortunately, as many had little stomach to admit it, this war had been waging far longer than even Solar had realised. A regrettable, if understandable loss though. War, by its very nature, inflicted casualties. Maxing Solar’s concern off however, was the lack of any retaliatory action. Any indication that the Day had been hit back in kind. “And nopony thought to…I don’t know…get some revenge? An informant here, with Twilight and the Elements was surely a high value asset?” Solar already knew the answer. It was the very reason the Night had been on the back hoof until now, and why they, and his dear Luna, had been crying out for him. “Old Commander Steel Onyx, he never cared for the damage we took. Dismissed the report as just another reason we Shadows were overstretched and inefficient…” Solar had called it, especially at the part when he knew he was the saviour the Night never knew existed. “Bucking traitor…” There were few words that Solar could think of that could sufficiently explain the extent of his anger of the previous administration. Steel Onyx was, undoubtedly, a corrupt, hilariously incompetent and probably traitorous Pony, but blaming a rotting apple was rarely ever the fault of the fruit. Something would have caused that rot, be it a living creature or rapidly deteriorating outside conditions, spiralling out of control. Steel Onyx was just the mere apple in this scenario. As was evident, and as was vowed to be vanquished from the face of the planet, the cause of the rot was way more far reaching. Cutting the apple from the tree to save all over fruit, even cutting down the entire tree was barely a solution. If necessary, the entire orchid would have to go, or to start completely anew, for the good of all. Yet for a brief moment, as inconsequential as he was now, Solar did ponder on the fate of Steel Onyx. That, he decided, could be inquired about later. “Yeah, but anyway, catch up!” Neon proclaimed, continuing her trek to the house. “We don’t want to risk any more welcome parties for you now, do we?”. Accompanied with a, which could hardly be called subtle, wink, Neon led away. For the best, her partner concluded. With a final look back into the street, witnessing the Element of Laughter spring away not too unlike an escaped ball, Solar too continued his search. In regards to the tease, however compromising it was, such was the dynamic between members of this violently ambitious family, and like any family customs, Solar assured himself that Neon would partake soon enough. “Right. Yeah. Keep up!” Family rivalry had to be a thing, especially in these dark days. That was what Solar told himself, as these two Shadow’s, these two Ponies so capable of death and chaos, tried to overtake each other while walking. Maybe this kind of stuff can continue, after we win… Relief, particularly of the concentration renewing variety, had not come around in any great haste. Instead, the world seemed to think it just to subject Solar to the already humiliating feeling of losing his own house. That was, unfortunately, a mere distraction. The true torture he had found himself entrapped in was the discrete journey spent travelling with Neon. She was, concerningly, too friendly as of the current moment. Enjoying herself to no end, the scales of moral spirits were increasingly disproportionate, and allowed that jovial and crazy Thestral to look down and witness her companion, who was apparently in so great a need of comfort and play. No please…No closer… Solar dare not say anything about Neon’s increasingly affectionate attitude, a kindness he neither wanted or dared to hope he needed. Neon had always been favourable towards him, her neighbourly warmth easily attracted towards him as if they were long lost friends. Brothers and sisters under Luna they may be now, but reliable and established partners they certainly were not, and the cuddly nature she seemed to reserve only for he, was quickly becoming a problem. Case and point was the purposely clumsy and almost predatory attraction she physically bore towards him, feigning a slip or deliberately setting herself on a Solar aimed swerve, all to obtain even just a light brush along him. A momentary connection of their bodies, and a seemingly lifetime of physical discomfort, at least from one of the duo. Solar never dared to call it flirting, if only to limit his blameless guilt from erupting into feelings of betrayal towards Luna, but unless this was some form of normal antics, and liberal display of affection for all she considered trustworthy, then Solar did not want this. His heart was solidly, and very happily, owned by another. A burning desire of exotic emotion, mixed with an acute sense of responsibility for all in this world. Loving Luna was to love Equestria, even if that love had to be conveyed in a far more forceful and extreme regulatory fashion. Neon was, however interesting a character, and admittedly bodily delightful, a misguidance. Solar looked upon her velvety stirring grey coat, and gazed into those fun filled yet slightly unhinged amber eyes with nothing less than physical and emotional admiration. She was a decently looking Pony, and would, hopefully, forever remain an ally of an even greater quality, but whatever wild ideas that could have once been nurtured and even acted upon, Solar had to stamp them out. And that, surprisingly, pained him. “Ergh, is that it? Black roof, like you said…” Neon’s sentry like observation suddenly bore fruit of the most desired kind. Not too far ahead, nestled in-between homes of a far more superior standing, it now was. A run down, even derelict construction, not too unlike those which warranted its jealousy. This” black roof” was not some exclusive architectural scheme that Solar was lucky to possess. Like the shady sales pony he was, Blank Canvas had sold this house dishonestly and falsely, even if it wasn’t Solar’s through commerce, and certainly not through choice. The black colour was simply a roof devoid of any thatch or colourful decoration as found elsewhere in Ponyville. Dirt, moss and what looked like tar was the crown adorned to this building, and like the beggar king it was, it attracted Solar towards it without desire or appetite, yet reliably relying on its new subject’s inability to walk away. “It would seem so…” Solar said slowly, a sense of slight dread emerging throughout his consciousness, as only now he realised that this could have been the sight, the feeling and opinion that he would have felt, had he only ignored that sight of Twilight Sparkle in a hurry, and stuck to his, albeit forced, predetermined path. Here he could have been, alone and without cause or goal, wondering if he would have been content in life, now he was devoid of it. What strange circumstances those could have been, had he just kept walking and advance into that great unknown. This Solar Virtue was not only a stranger to him now, but he was an objectively lesser Pony, who’s unfamiliarity with family and purpose was as weak and run-down as the house he was about to call home. The only home that mattered to today’s Solar was not a physical place. It was with Luna, made true with crescent banners flying proudly, regardless of where in this world he was. “…Come on, let’s take a look inside…” Solar suggested, shaking his head free of dreadful alternate possibilities. Still, as he withdrew the key to the building, a trinket he had nearly forgotten about until now, evading such spectres of another life did seem an uphill struggle. As he inserted the key into its unfamiliar rusty lock, Solar couldn’t help but contemplate, almost poetically, even if this was the destination that once could have been his ruin, that in unlocking the door, he was unlocking the next chapter on his and Luna’s life. Surprising nopony, with this creaky entrance opening, the dark interior revealed a dusty and downtrodden appearance. If this place was to belong to the Night, it would surely need sprucing up. Cobwebs, damp and dust to no end plagued the quaintly built interior of the cottage, very akin to the stereotype of a cozy country establishment. Neon barely seemed interested in either the state of the place, nor the style. Her eyes drifted instantly to the dark nooks and crannies, hidden within wide holes within the walls and floorboards, and high up, where light did not reach, and where she could probably sleep peacefully. An idealistic state of mind, and one well worthy of Solar’s envy, who could only wish such a stress-free mind could be shared, and replace one which seemed borderline obsessed with grime and the ancient tomb like sight that lay candidly before it. Yet the one thing about such ancient mysteries, was that when they were discovered, it was seldom the case that fresh hoof prints were a component of the timeworn mausoleum. “Neon…” Solar instinctively warned, to which the Thestral admirably and instantly knew how to react. For these two Ponies were not alone, and in such a seedy shack, devoid of worth or merit, the chances of some tomb raider or treasure hunter being caught unawares did not seem likely. Talking, from this point forward, had to be regulated to hoof motions or other silent indications of intent. However, run down the place was, there had been no sign of forced entry, and with Solar having kept the key safe, albeit neglected, the Pony sharing this place was of some quality, and in keeping with its tomb like appearance, was ready to award the building its namesake in a far more literal term. The two servants of the Night dared not make a sound, in pure hope that this intruder, who had already relished in his advantage of seeing his possible trap fell into, would make a mistake, and be heard. Flanking a half opened door, leading to an even darker room, Solar and Neon awaited an opportune moment that would never come, and for when their ill thought entrance would leave thought. Fortunately, as much on the back hoof as they were, the Night was not without its advantages. Neon after all, was a Thestral, A Pony born in the dark, and moulded to live within it. Her sense of hearing and night vision were unparalleled, and could even these unexpected odds out somewhat. Together, they would breach the room, hopefully have the numerical higher ground and outmanoeuvre the awaiting guest with skill and biological gift. Or that was what Solar hoped this intruder to think. Surprised and cursing their previous volume, a Pony could be mistaken for thinking such mistakes would cause only panic for the approaching violence, and would take leave of sensible strategy, following the more natural and instinctive path. Should this think so highly of his advantage, and believe his prey to plan so hastily, then his trap would also be his grave. Neon rushed in, relying on her heightened senses to react far quicker than Solar ever could. Being a Thestral too, not too dissimilar to a Pegasus, she was also faster and more agile, and better able to fight an ambushing opponent. Solar, an Earth Pony, and in accordance to the plan created by two silent Ponies who could have never done so where it not for their nonphysical bonds, had strength on his side, and in those rotten and unmaintained house, these cracked walls and gaping holes would not provide much of a challenge, The hoof prints led only into this room, and unless the Pony had been living here and somehow had become in possession of Solar’s intent to visit even before it was even thought of, then these prints were new, and they were not fake. As Neon breached the door, Solar took his entry in a far cruder, and some might say, uncivilised way. The stairs, that lay parallel to the room, separated only by long rotten wood and opposite the main entrance, made for a perfect surprise. Climbing them halfway, Solar relied upon his inner brute, a part of him that had been thankfully subdued while he work on gaining Luna’s favour, and burst through the wall. Splinters and bruises in caused, but in creating a new entry point, Solar would like to see the face of this Pony lying in wait. Though who that face belonged to would have to one he didn’t mind looking upon. “You!” Solar cried out, looking down the long room, and witnessing the very neutral, yet very smug face of Blank Canvas, heading the end of a dining table like he was a self-proclaimed king. Alas, not an ambush it was, at least of the mortal variety. An ambush of distain and regret though, Blank easily managed. Bemused at the rapid and destructive entrance of his, officially, Night allies, Solar could not help but instantly regret his brash ramming through wall and plaster, knowing full well that this Pony, the very one who would smirk plentifully at Solar’s return to the house and place he had been relegated to like a naughty colt. He had overreacted and become arrogant in his belief that an enemy had been in need of defeating, and now only had dust and filthy wood in his coat to make up for it, as well as an unnecessary little display, born of paranoia and desire to even show off. Solar was pronounced immobile thanks to his checkered history with this awaiting judgment in Pony form, and forced consumed by bitterness, embarrassment and shock. Neon however, was not such a Pony to be chained down by such constraints, nor was she otherwise caring of the sting of shame. Just as Blank was about to speak, surely some snarky comment about how he had caught them so unawares, a viciously thrown chair, intended by clear bodily harm, came violently his way. “HISS!” Neon audibly almost spoke. Her fangs were on full display, and her eyes as demonic as they could be, forwarding the straddle of a creature from this world, to one hell bent on destroying it. As soon as she comprehended who this Pony was, no thought was spent on what might and could be said, as Solar now found himself so constrained and limited by. Emotion and altercation were just wind whistling through the cracks of this cave like dwelling, and conversation could never truly demonstrate the magnitude of hate held for another. Her throw was true, backed up with remarkable speed and strength, and as impulsive as Solar had believed of her. In all, however brutally unexpected it was, it was the reaction Solar could never give, but always wanted to. “What in the name of Luna!” Blank Canvas cried out, ducking just in time to surely save his life and head. Even as the old chair crashed down into the wall behind him, ensuring a thud of breaking wood to echo throughout the building, Solar wasted no time for pleasantries, less Neon take another attempt at ripping this Pony apart. “Don’t bother using her name!” Solar cried back defensively, jealously hoarding the use of his loves name. “Are you spying on us, huh?! How the buck did you know we would be here?!” Aggressive, clear demands, all before Blank had a chance to spill his poison. Neon, thankfully, understood this to be a suggestion not to throw any more things, and prepare herself ready to pounce and rip a jugular out, should the situation turn sour enough. “Spying?” re-emerged the head of the information broker, its eyes wisely keeping a watchful gaze upon Neon. “Would I ever?” You dare! “Don’t try and insult me. Of course you would, but on our enemies! Not us!” Blank Canvas was, however loosely aligned, part of a pact. One formed into an alliance against Celestia, even if Solar never liked the idea of this Pony being a part of it. “So paranoid, Solar!” Blank shot back, not likely this accusation. “You never did ask questions first, did you? Always the impulsive one, backed up with impulsive acti-Speaking of… can you call your beast off please?!” Not once had he averted his gaze from the blood thirsty eyes of those opposite him. Turning one’s back to a predator never failed to carry the title of a fool, and however much Solar would not want it so, Blank knew Neon was simply too wild, too much an untamed beast, at least around those whose blood she would relish in tasting. And for a moment, Solar wondered if his pet killer should get her wish. After all, few would miss the manipulativeness of Blank Canvas, and that minority that did, knowing their nature, could easily be shown that however all-knowing one could get, it was power and might that ruled a Pony’s life. Alas, despite disregarding the infamy gained by betraying an ally, the matter of the fact was simple. That the Night needed all the help it could get, and as this war heated up, now for than ever, and however much it pained him to say, they all needed Blank. “Alright Neon, I think our intruder has got the point…” Solar lamented in his voice, to which Neon could only do so even more. If anything, it showed that she was a legitimate threat to others, regardless of their strength or vanity, and a loose cannon, unpredictable in nature, did instil quite the degree of fear, to whichever poor soul was in its line of fire. “Intruder? Does this mean I’ve finally got my wish?” Began to provoke a now more visibly relaxed Blank Canvas, finally knowing his flesh would be safe. “The meddling Solar Virtue, humbled by a sweet little cottage, and free from his dangerously provocative ambition.” Solar could only raise an eyebrow, approaching the table and sitting as if to humour the third Pony. “Hmm, obviously not” Blank said, answering his own question with a small sigh. “Else you would have been here to greet me, hopefully with a far tidier house, and not carrying such dark shadows with you…no pun intended!” If nothing else, this did at least bear some sweetness, knowing that Blank had finally accepted that Solar’s exile had in fact, been fruitless. “Yet here you are instead.” Solar spoke back, impromptu and hasty. “Why is that? You gave me this place, and I’ll be damned if I don’t exercise my right to kick your pretentious ass out of here.” As useful as he could be, Solar, with all his new plans for Ponyville and the fight back, did not want this slippery creature anywhere near them. An acute and dangerous weapon to be used against Celestia’s dictator for life doctrine, but only at a point in time where the Nights position was stable and solidified and not open to obstruction from the master of that noun. “I’m here to keep you company while your Woona cannot.” Oh no you did not just do that! “Neon…” Solar said slowly and deliberately, gaining the instant attention of a Thestral still hell bent on murder. “If another word comes out of the mouth of this slimy and slippery little parasite, one that isn’t him practically grovelling to apologise to me, I want you to start decorating this place with a very red colour scheme…” Music to Neon’s ears. Beginning to circle the table like a one pony wolf pack, Solar swore himself, when his fortunes began to pick up again, Equestria was due a favour with the extermination of this Pony filth. Never again would he or his people ever rely on the disgustingly unreliable and downright degenerate help of the corrupt puppeteers of the land. “Oh no, you seem to misunderstand me, poor Solar…” Ever the clever one, and always with the words to say, Blank Canvas began the testimony that would save his life, leaving Solar with grinding teeth, and riled antipathy as he watched this cockroach perform his tricks. And to think, once upon a time, one could say fairly that Solar was not too dissimilar to Blank. A rectification completed only recently, with the formers new found faith in order and the right thing. But no verbal squirming came, and Solar was only teased with a chance to bring further hatred upon this Pony. Confidently, Blank pulled out an austere piece of parchment, much to Neon’s own hatred for this dangerous precedent, and slid it across the table towards Solar. “Read it.” Solar looked slowly and suspiciously down at the paper, unfolding it as if it was a trick. If only it was. Reading and rereading the words, Solar dare not show reaction. The sentences he was reading were surely a jest. Falsified commands to rile him up or otherwise trick him. Blank and Solar had borne a long rivalry, but only now, did it finally seem like this competition begin to seem a little more one sided. “No.” Were these words to himself, Solar did then wonder, but only after saying them. He wanted to cry out, an angered condition made only worse with his pledge to wipe Blank off the map, soon enough. “Oh yes Solar! We will be seeing a lot more of each other soon enough. Maybe even with the required pleasantries offered” Again, Solar studied the paper. Words, written, apparently by none other than Luna, offering the most shocking and insulting terms that any respecting member of the Night could read. “In fact, you could call this little get together a celebratory party! We are so grateful that you are our host!” Our? We? These collective pronouns, mirrored in the letter, suddenly stood out. And right on mark, steps. Heavy, slow steps, and certainly not made by any hoof. In fact, judging from the sound they made, and the rhythm produced, they certainly weren’t made by any Pony. And then came the voice. “Honestly, I’m loving this Ponyville! Such a beautiful place. When do you start accepting immigrants?” Both of them now stood. Blank Canvas, a Pony of deceit and a deficit of truth, and the Human Victus Vane, two figures, as told in this letter, that would have their respective and high ranking roles, when the state of Equestria fell, and a new Lunar successor was established.