//------------------------------//
// 68.5 On a Clear, Moonlit Night 
// Story: Prey and a Lamb 
// by Lambs Prey 
//------------------------------//

Under the waning sun of evening, Prey, Gloom, and Crimson met outside the entrance to the Guard Compound.

The air had that minor nip to it that let you know the turn of the seasons was finally here. It wasn't cold by any means, since the ponies of Canterlot wouldn't put up with something as inconvenient as cold if they didn't at least get some pristine white snow to go along with it. Preferably only at Hearth's Warming, and not before.

"Well. Here we all are once again." Gloom said simply by way of greeting.

Crimson nodded back politely, but silently.

"Hm." Prey grunted, suspiciously eyeing the pegasus Royal Guard on the gate.

Gloom wryly quirked a lip, "I missed working with you both too."

Prey looked Gloom, who would shortly be his Sargent once again, over. The thestral wasn't kitted out in his Guard armour, despite the return to his post, but then, neither was Crimson. Their armour had been thoroughly trashed in the ill-fated trip across the Ridgeback, and had been recalled when they were all rushed to the hospital. It seemed like an age ago.

Regardless, as a result of that, Gloom was his normal lighter grey self, and Crimson his deep red. However, Gloom had worn that loose fitting black scarf to cover the puckered scar tissue on his chest for his flight over. Other than that, the Sargent-to-be was back to normal health.

But it was Gloom's face Prey carefully looked at. 

He studied Gloom's yellow eyes, saw the now familiar poison burn tracks underneath, watched how his tufted ears stood, and noted the set of his shoulders.

Gloom looked ready. Not so tired, not so worn, although those elements were of course still there, but nevertheless still ready.

Gloom was back, ready and willing to do his duty.

Also, and Prey was looking very carefully for this, there were none of the subtle signs which indicated lingering negative after effects caused by his forced editing of Gloom's memories. Prey hadn't wanted to do it, but there hadn't been a lot of choice at the time. But Gloom now seemed fine. 

'-just wish Scenic and Lilly could've been here for this little reunion too-'

A reunion? Well, Prey supposed it was, of a sort. It was just the three of them again, all about to re-join the ranks of the Night Guard. Two out of the three of them willingly so.

Prey next glanced up at Crimson, who was standing stiffly beside him, but still safely outside of hoof's reach.

He'd helped Crimson get ready earlier, instructing him on how best to mask and downplay his still very obvious injuries caused by his 'little' training incident.

It was a bit hard to hide stitches, and any bruising on someone's face always stood out, but those ones were along Crimson's sides he could hide if he held his folded wings right. Smaller cuts were also easy, especially in Crimson's red fur, and were mostly old by now anyways.

Prey'd also had Crimson tie off his warrior's braid long and hang it just so to cover a portion of his neck and back too.

Still, Prey counted it lucky Nighthawk had been involved in Crimson's 'training accident' himself, or else there might be some uncomfortable questions. Obviously, Gloom had asked what'd happened the moment he'd seen Crimson.

"Training gone wrong." Crimson had answered stoically.

Gloom had raised both brows, "Really?"

"Yes."

Gloom had favoured him with a slightly disbelieving look, but out of trust born from all they'd done together, decided this training wasn't some sort of self-inflicted punishment and that Crimson probably knew what he was doing, "Alright then. Please just be more careful in the future."

Prey had been telling Crimson he needed to eat plenty of protein, along with delicately reminding him to drink extra blood, or 'clan wine' to stay healthy. Crimson had grimaced, Prey knew he along with Gloom strongly disliked it whenever he mentioned their unsavoury dietary requirements. Not least because to Crimson, blood tasted exactly like blood. Disgusting. But medicine was often disgusting, and Prey was sure Crimson had still followed his suggestion anyway. So that was good. 

Right now, Gloom was looking up at the gate arch of the Guard Compound's entrance. Set at the arch's peak was a large golden carving of the Royal Guard's symbol, a rising sun on a shield. No sign of a moon. Beneath the proud crest and inside on the compound's courtyard, Royal Guards were coming and going as always.

"Shall we?"

Prey squared his thin shoulders, "May as well get it over with."

"Come now, Prey. I know you don't hate it all that much." Gloom chided.

Prey did, he really did, but he decided to match Gloom's upbeat mood instead, "Don't you realise what's waiting for us through those gates?"

Gloom raised an eyebrow, "Our duty?"

"A month's worth of backlogged paperwork."

Gloom and Crimson both winced. 

"Ah. Yes. That. Wonderful. Taffy's going to be insufferably smug, I can feel it." Gloom sighed.

"May as well get it over with." Prey echoed again.

Gloom half grinned, and lead them in through the open gate.

The pegasus Royal Guard glared at them as they passed, or did until Gloom glanced back at him, at which point, he snapped up straight and stared straight ahead as if he hadn't been doing anything:

'-freaky bucking backstabbing batpony-', Prey heard the Guard think as they entered.

'If he's that sore over the inspections still, it's surprising he didn't halt us just to be a pain in the flank.' Prey thought. Gloom still had his Guard badge, so they could've gotten past in a moment anyways, but maybe some rumours had gotten around about the Sargent of the ISND? 

It would be mildly interesting to discover how accurate those rumours were.

Prey returned his attention to the Guard Compound as they crossed the courtyard, going past the office buildings and overnight holding cells. Prey recalled interrogating Copper Pot in there.

The Royal Guards who noticed them in the waning light gave them a wide berth and looks ranging from angry to worried. Other than a wing flick, Crimson ignored their attitude, and Gloom simply dismissed it.

'-after everything that's happened, it's almost a welcome relief-'

Even fewer Guards noticed Prey himself, since he'd positioned himself with Gloom and Crimson's legs to obscure anyone's view. But to those who did, Prey smiled at as brightly as a sunflower.

'Racist bigots, the lot of them.'

But as long as they kept their distance, Prey didn't care either. He didn't need to interact with any of them to complete his enforced tasks from Luna, the betrayer.

First things first, they were supposed to report in, being out of uniform notwithstanding.

The Palace and Captain Nighthawk awaited.


---


Nostalgia wasn't the word as Prey followed behind Gloom and Crimson through the Lower Palace, the latter trotting with a stiff step to hide a limp. No, nostalgia definitely wasn't the word. Nostalgia implied fond memories, and Prey had not even one of the glittering gilt Palace which belonged to the Sun Wolf.

But even so, the time the ISND had spent inside these walls had been time when they weren't fighting for their lives, or cowering in some dark corner in terror, or facing mentally scarring horrors.

Was there a different word to describe that feeling instead, perhaps?

As they turned right and entered the Night Guard section, they happened to meet Lieutenant Screech in the company of two other thestrals coming the other way.

"Sargent Gloom."

Gloom stopped and saluted, "Lieutenant Screech."

Screech looked first to Gloom, and then the rest of them up and down. Prey vaguely recognised the two lower rank Night Guards following Screech. They'd been in the throne room when he'd first been dragged before Luna, he recalled.

"It's good that you're finally back, Sargent." Was all Screech said formally, but the respectful nod of his head and friendly tilt of his ears showed he really was glad.

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." Gloom answered, with just as much unsaid feeling.

'-after everything, your resolve is an honour to Princess Luna and us all-'

'-it really is good to be back among those where we belong-'

"I won't keep you, but we'll catch up at some point Gloom, outside of work. Soon." Screech's eyes conveyed a silent message that there was something important to discuss. 

"Yes sir. I look forward to it."

"Soon. Until then." Screech nodded again seriously to them all, "Continue as you were, Sargent. Crimson, Prey."

The two accompanying Night Guards also nodded their goodbyes as Screech marched off, no doubt with a hundred and one things he still needed to do tonight alone.

'I wonder how many of those problems are going to end up on my plate? Or our plate, even.' Prey wondered sourly. Nighthawk would no doubt tell them.


---


*Knock-knock*

"Come." Came the same familiar gruff bark.

The Captain's office hadn't changed much either, still just as packed with dumped Night Guard equipment which had nowhere else to go, and uncomfortably dark to Prey's eyes. A bit worse actually, since the Reaper King's poisoning had happened between then and now.

What was different, was Nighthawk's desk. Prey remembered how the last one had been half teleported in the pine forest, emphasis on half. But the thestral Captain appeared just the same as always as he looked up from scribbling on a form.

"Captain Nighthawk."

"Sargent Gloom, at ease. Crimson, close the door behind you."

"Yes sir." Crimson gave no hint of resentment at Nighthawk for his current injuries.

Nighthawk himself showed no sign of mentioning it either, although Prey would not be forgetting Nighthawk's hoof in this.

"By their absence, I take it Scenic Paint and Lilly Blossom are still not fit to return to active duty?" The Captain asked bluntly.

"Sorry sir, no. I'm not sure Lilly ever will be, not in her condition. And Scenic... Well, not him either really. He's doing much better than Lilly, but even so... If he doesn't return to active duty of his own choice, I wouldn't hold it against him in the slightest."

"Nopony here would," Nighthawk stated, "Their return to active duty was conditional upon their own volition, and their positions will be held open indefinitely until they make a final decision. It would be a dishonour to offer them any less for their sacrifices."

'But not us, eh?' Prey thought, blank faced.

There was a moment's silence as everyone considered the circumstances which had led to all of this. 

Like a string of bells tied about your neck, unpleasant memories only ever took a careless bump to chime again and remind you of their existence...

Gloom took a breath, "Yes sir. I hope they'll come back, but it's up to them at the end of the night."

"Correct. But you three are back, and not before time. Those conniving inspectors have delayed and set us back even farther behind schedule, and Her Majesty's work has gone opposed for far too long already. That is unacceptable, and things are going to change." Nighthawk stated, a rasping growl vibrating in the back of his throat.

Prey saw that Nighthawk was genuinely angry about that, utterly fed up with the Royal Inspections and the nobles who'd been surreptitiously playing in the background.

'-it's only because Princess Luna in her wisdom ordered me to stay hooves off that they're getting away with this. For now. They're making their own noose for later-'

"Things are going to change." Nighthawk repeated with gruff feeling.

"Yes sir." Gloom agreed, even if he didn't know what precisely Nighthawk was speaking of. But obviously, the Captain had a plan.

Prey mentally braced himself, 'Here it comes, another hairbrained, impossible task for us to complete.'

"However, there are a few things to get out of the way first." Nighthawk leaned across his desk.

"Prey. You're first."

'Oh wonderful.' Prey thought. "Yes, sir?"

Nighthawk's bright yellow thestral eyes bore down into him, "You've been written up for breaking the restrictions of your probation once already. Am I wrong?"

"No." Prey answered calmly. He noticed Gloom and Crimson each shifting unhappily.

Nighthawk's mouth pressed into a line as he continued to stare down at Prey, "You remember what we spoke about while you were in the hospital, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then this just amounts to the same warning. You don't want to incur an actual review hearing. If you do, it'll be outside of the Night Guards purview."

"I never signed those restriction papers." Prey said.

"Good, but you know that won't fly with them, Prey. The law is still the law. For your own sake, don't get caught again. That's all I'll say."

'Don't get caught again'. That wasn't the same as don't do it again, just don't get caught.

'-been forced to grow up too fast and too broken. But authority is not his enemy, I must make him understand that-'

'Do you expect me to be grateful for a useless warning?' Prey gritted his teeth. Nighthawk was unwaveringly waiting for a response though.

"I'll do my best, sir."

"Good." Nighthawk nodded once and sat back, releasing Prey from his piercing yellow stare.

"The second item of business concerns everypony here. Have you all been attending the mandatory therapist appointments?"

Gloom nodded, "Yes, we all have."

"Then I don't need to say anything further on that topic. Third, a warning to each of you." Nighthawk grimaced.

Seeing that, all three of them warily braced themselves, "Yes sir?"

"There is going to be a medal ceremony at some point, held before the assembled Guard on duty. The ceremony is set after Royal Guard tradition, and each of you are required to attend in uniform on the day."

"They want to give us a medal?" Gloom couldn't keep the distaste from his tone.

'-all those ponies died, and for that we get a medal!?-'

"I thought you'd feel this way, which is why I'm warning you now." Nighthawk answered.

Crimson spoke up, his wings stiff at his sides, "Sir, a medal... that would just be wrong. Cheap. All those po-people are dead. They were murdered. It would be a medal bought in their blood."

Prey agreed. A medal? The presumptuousness of it angered him. It was like they were saying: 'Congratulations! You survived the horrors we threw you into caused by our own incompetence. But don't worry, here's a shiny bit of metal, so that makes up for all of it.'

Further more, they were going to be giving the medal, as if they had the right to judge the ISND and decide what they'd done was good or bad. It was a piece of worthless metal, but they were going to stomp their hooves and cheer like the ISND should be proud. Ha! They knew nothing.

"I agree," Nighthawk said, "Trite medals and empty trophies are not the clans ways. But it is the Guard's way, and Princess Luna has approved."

Which was the same as saying it was going to happen whether they wanted it to or not.

"Oh. I see sir." Gloom deflated. 

'-well, if Her Majesty's wishes it to be so...-'

They'd barely been back in the Night Guard for fifteen minutes, and already Prey was sick of it all.

'One day. One day I'll be free.' He told himself.

"I don't see it as a likely possibility, but Starry Wing and Captain Armour have both suggested the medal ceremony might do some good in calming tensions between the Royal and Night Guard." Nighthawk's shrug showed his personal rating of the chances of that happening.

"Captain Shining Armour thinks that'll actually work sir?" Gloom asked, trying not to sound too dubious of a Captain's opinion.

"It's probably more of a gesture on his behalf. I'm not holding my breath. But now on to the good news." Nighthawk announced.

There was any good news to be had? Prey was immediately suspicious. This was just the sort of thing that turned out to be even worse news in the long run. But Gloom and Crimson's ear tufts both twitched.

"Yes sir?"

"Your new armour. Now that you're back, you can go pick it up." Nighthawk smirked.

Why was Nighthawk smirking?

"New? Was it that badly damaged it couldn't be repaired?" Gloom asked, but feeling there was something further to this.

"No. You have new armour."

"We do sir? Wait, you just said no."

"You have new armour. Completely new. Do you recall that unique armour sets were commissioned by Princess Luna when she reinstated the Night Guard? Ones with better coverage and protection."

Gloom thought way back, to before even Crimson and Prey had come along, "Now that you mention it, yes."

Nighthawk flicked a leathery wing, "The smiths have delayed, postured, and whined incessantly for months about pre-existing orders while making no move to speed up, but Princess Luna finally had enough and I sent Starry Wing to make it clear that their delays would no longer be tolerated."

Prey had seen other Night Guards on their way here. None of them had been wearing anything but the standard recoloured Royal guard armour.

'-wait, Lieutenant Screech was wearing normal armour. And so are you-', Gloom thought, looking at Nighthawk's own armour and helmet.

"Am I missing something, sir?"

Nighthawk snorted, "No Sargent. Merely that the smiths are still completely inefficient and have produced only a hoofful of the required number."

He pointed with his wing claw first at Gloom, then Crimson, "The ISND will be among the first ponies in the Night Guard to get one of these new armour sets."

"Thank you sir, but aren't there other ponies who-"

"No. You are one of Princess Luna's most successful units. With the unforeseen danger the ISND keeps unexpectedly running into, you'll likely have need of it." Nighthawk said seriously without an ounce of flattery. He looked at Prey.

'-out of all of them Prey needs the extra protection the most, but there is none for him. I don't like it-'

Gloom and Crimson both shot Prey sideways looks of their own, but what could anyone do? There was no armour for a child. You weren't supposed to send children into a fight, period. Besides which, Prey couldn't have moved in heavy plate mail even if there had been any in his size.

"That means it's up to me and Sargent Gloom. To be your armour, I mean Prey." Crimson said. Gloom nodded solemnly.

Prey grimaced, because that tactic had been working so well in the past, hadn't it? But Gloom and Crimson were being serious, and there was nothing he could do about the situation anyways, aside from making sure they never got into dangerous situations in the first place.

'Yes. That's going to be my goal from here on out.' Prey decided. The disguised electrite feather he'd given to Crimson should help in that regard, assisting in keeping them all safe.

Nighthawk went on; "I think you'll like your new armour. Go see Quartermaster Carrot when you're done here, and get outfitted. Now, Crimson. Your wingblades."

Nighthawk got up and briskly strode over to the safe on the wall, boxes of padded training equipment piled on top. He hooked his hoof under the metal bar and pulled the door open. Unseen, Prey narrowed his eyes. Behind the dark confines of the safe's thick metal door, there were stacks of unmarked files, bank bags of what looked like pre-counted gold, a loaded crossbow, and there placed on the top, Crimson's wingblades. They'd been carefully placed and stored, just like Nighthawk had promised. 

However, that wasn't what Prey was interested in.

From the way Nighthawk had easily pulled the safe door open, it might've appeared like the door had been unlocked, but Prey knew that wasn't the case. With his larger ears, he'd heard the very faint 'click' of the safe unlocking as Nighthawk pulled.

'A magical lock without a standard key.' Prey thought. Obviously, the lock was linked in some way to Nighthawk, or rather, some 'key' on Nighthawk's person.

What could it be? Nighthawk's Guard badge? Something the thestral was carrying under his armour maybe? Or something more obvious, like the Captain rank pins on Nighthawk's shoulder plate? That would fit, since it was a safe set in the Captain's office for the Captain's use, after all.

Just a little something to remember for later.

"Thank you." Crimson said as he received his father's wingblades back with care, and perhaps just a bit too much haste for politeness. He immediately spread one wing, then the other and began strapping the sheathed blades back on.

Prey sighed quietly. So much for Crimson hiding the bruising on his ribs.

However, although Gloom obviously saw them and was privately concerned in his head, he didn't comment. Meanwhile on the other hoof, Nighthawk had known they were there all along.

"And another thing." The Captain had closed the safe and repositioned himself behind his desk again. He pulled open a drawer stuffed with paper and scrolls, and rummaged around until he found what he wanted:

"Here." Nighthawk thrust a crumpled scroll in the direction of Gloom and Crimson both.

Crimson paused in tightening the straps on the second wingblade to look, and Gloom scooped up the scroll in one wing in interest, "What's this sir?"

"Paperwork. An escalated request from another department. A jumped up flyboy was pulling rank, or else Starry Wing would've already thrown this in the trash. You both need to sign in the negative to make this ridiculous request go away."

'-get this done so they'll shove off and leave us well alone in future-'

Someone had actually dared to try and use their rank to get Nighthawk to pass on their request? And they'd actually expected that to work? Obviously, they didn't understand anything about thestrals. But who even had the authority, never mind the guts, to even try?

Prey had an idea, and it was confirmed when Gloom unrolled the crumpled scroll between his wings and read.

'-the wonderbolts again? What does it take for them to take no for an answer?-'

Gloom rolled his eyes as he borrowed a quill from Nighthawk's desk and scrawled his signature without prelude or even explaining the contents Crimson, "Here. Sign there Crimson."

Crimson glanced at the page as he accepted the quill. He frowned down at the page, "A 'cross unit recruitment request'?"

"The Wonderbolts. Seems they're now trying to use the official channels to get you sign up to their flying circus again." Gloom snorted.

Crimson immediately scrawled his name in the 'Decline' box.

"Their audacity and overconfidence is almost impressive. I mean, do they even understand what the ISND does?"

Nighthawk took back the transfer form with contempt, "No. Their commanding officer has it stuck in her head that your talents would be better utilised with their fake military group inside a flight exclusive unit. Somepony let slip you flew thirty miles in twenty minutes at night to help save Private Lilly Blossom. I would've thought she would've found a new interest to fixate on by now."

Crimson's wing gave a curt little flick, "My duty is to Princess Luna. I would never waste my time like that, sir. And besides, that was only because I had an artifact at the time. And I collapsed into a coma afterwards. Do they know those details?"

Nighthawk shrugged. It was a good shrug, artfully expressing how little it mattered or he cared about what the Wonderbolts might or might not know. He carelessly tossed the now signed scroll in his 'Out' tray.

Prey bet the only reason Nighthawk had even bothered wasting the time it took Gloom, as Crimson's officer, and Crimson, as the person in question, to sign that document was because Nighthawk was sick of being pestered. Now that the request was officially denied on paper, he didn't even have to pretend to entertain any such requests in the future.

That, and Nighthawk thought so little of the Wonderbolts as a military force that they were practically civilians in his eyes, and thus, it was wrong to hold any higher expectations of them.

Nighthawk wasn't the sort to tolerate fools otherwise.

"There's only one further thing before you go see the Quartermaster." Nighthawk said.

They all straightened, although once again it was only really Gloom and Crimson Nighthawk was speaking to.

Nighthawk paused, "It's fortunate you returned tonight specifically. You missed the announcement last night, but all Night Guards are to assemble on parade ground one at oh-four hundred."

They waited, but Nighthawk didn't elaborate on the reason why.

When no further details were forthcoming, Gloom didn't question it. It was an order from Nighthawk: 

"Yes sir. We'll be there."

Nighthawk gruffly smiled, fangs showing, but it wasn't an aggressive smile, "It's something nopony will want to miss."

"No fear of that, sir."


---


"What do you think's going to be happening at four in the morning?" Gloom mused when they were outside, heading towards the supply depo.

Crimson shrugged, a bit stiff because of the stitches in his left shoulder.

"I'm pretty sure I know." Prey said.

Gloom cocked his ear, "Really?"

"I picked up some hints," Actually Prey had overheard Screech and Nighthawk both thinking about it, "But it's probably supposed to be a surprise."

"The good kind, I take it?" Gloom checked as they turned a corner in the corridor.

"Yes. Do you want me to tell you what it's going to be anyway?" Prey asked.

Neither seemed to consider for a moment that Prey might be mistaken in his guess, "Hmm, if Captain Nighthawk's keeping it as a surprise, then no, I'll wait and see." Gloom decided.

"It's fine, we'll see when it happens." Crimson agreed as they made way for a couple of hurrying Night Guards.

Prey flicked the trailing end of the ribbon back, unconcerned since it really wasn't going to be a negative surprise, "Sure. Suit yourselves."


---


Quartermaster Carrot glared.

"You're the two damned foals who were incapable of looking after your own armour, aren't you? What happened? Mama wasn't there to hold your hoof? I told you the first time, if you can't look after your equipment, I'll take it back."

'-he hasn't changed even slightly I see-', Gloom thought in resigned frustration.

"When you're fighting monsters it's a bit hard to-"

"Save your excuses for somepony who cares, bat pony." Carrot snapped, "If I'd been allowed to do my duty without interference, you'd both still be paying back your armours repair costs, plus the set you lost, plus the misappropriated spear."

The earth pony glowered, and reluctantly forced out the next bit through gritted teeth, "Unfortunately, somepony getting paid more than me made the call that you should be rewarded for your incompetence instead. How lucky for you."

Gloom kept his face neutral. Carrot was rude, aggressive, and abrasive, but normally that wouldn't be enough to get to Gloom. However, Carrot's uninformed dismissal of their fight against the scarecrow and reaper king as simply them being careless grated on Gloom. Ponies had died, and here Carrot was shouting at them about lost equipment without knowing any of the facts.

Prey spied Crimson's feathers bristling at that too.

"Good thing it's not up to you then, sir," Gloom said flatly, "We're here for our two new-"

"I know why you're here. I know my job, unlike some other ponies." Carrot interrupted, scowling. He turned around to the cage door behind the counter and roughly unlocked it.

'-bucking jumped up foals all thinking they're some new hot stuff-'

Carrot grumbled under his breath as he replaced his keyring and yanked the cage door open, "Stay here."

"By the moon, he's even more annoying than last time." Gloom hissed quietly as the earth pony stomped off down the neat racks of polished armour, divided by size, along with gleaming spears, swords, wingblades, hammerhooves, and crossbows. Every item gleamed in the bright lantern light.

'-I bet he gives out punishment detail to polish everything. Not that most of it ever gets used-', Gloom thought.

"You might not have noticed, but the Royal Guard really dislikes the Night Guard at the moment." Prey commented.

"There is still such a thing as being professional." Crimson stated, coolly looking after the departing Quartermaster. 

Carrot reappeared around the isles pushing a cart with two medium sized wooden crates on it. He gave the cart a measured kick, and it rolled accurately down the isle and through the open cages gate to bump to a stop against the desk.

Carrot stomped out after it, swinging the gate shut with a clang and locking it with a jingle of keys. The ISND waited while he flipped up the counter board and pushed the cart out. He eyed Crimson's wingblades as he unlatched the plain wooden crates.

"Those aren't standard issue wingblades." He stated accusingly.

"No. They're mine." Crimson answered.

"You got a non-standard carry permission?" Carrot challenged.

Crimson flexed his wings, making the sheathed blades give just the slightest metallic whisper, "Yes."

Carrot scowled, "Doesn't matter. I see you don't have a blasted clue how to use them anyway." He snapped, jerking his chin at Crimson's bruises and stitches. Crimson didn't bother to correct him. Unseen, Gloom rolled his eyes to Prey.

Carrot grunted, apparently satisfied to have gotten the last word, and turned back to the two unlatched crates on the cart and flipped off the lids.

"Congratulations. Your new armour. And Celestia have mercy on you if you mess up again, because I bucking won't."

Being a runt, Prey couldn't see over the top of the cart or into the two wooden crates, so he instead looked to Gloom and Crimson for their reactions as to what they saw inside.

Both of Crimson's brows went up high enough to disappear under his lanky mane.

'-oh that is nice-', Gloom thought in appreciation.

"Hurry up. Some of us have to go home and sleep tonight, like normal ponies." Carrot snapped.

Gloom ignored the disagreeable stallion and reached in with both wings, lifting out a helmet clasped between both his wing claws.

Prey was immediately impressed. The helmet didn't have one of those stupid plumes like the Royal Guards, (and currently the Night Guards too), all did. A red plume for the golden clad Royal Guard, and purple for the silver armoured Night Guard. Those bells and whistle things were just the sort of pointless decoration to get snagged in a fight.

But this helmet looked far more practical, with no plume, and with a much more close and sleek fit despite being visibly solid and robust. It was, however, definitely styled after the patron of the Night Guard, Princess Luna, with crescent cheek guards like a moon and the metal was a silvery purple hue.

Gloom turned the helmet around and ducked his head to slip it on, his tufted ears sliding out of the protected ear slits. The dark metal fit snugly, and the sharp points of the crescent shaped helm and cheek guards really made his slitted yellow gaze almost seem to glow.

He raised his head and grinned at Prey. He didn't try to hide his fangs when he smiled at Prey anymore.

"Much better. I like this."

"I completely agree." Crimson said. In his hoof, he held a set of the neck plates. Again the metal was a dark, silvery purple, and very obviously moon themed. However the appreciable difference was in how it now would also guard the underside of the throat when worn, not just the sides like their old armour had.

Prey was willing to bet the rest of it was like that too, a definite upgrade to their old repurposed Royal Guard armour. He felt a bit jealous at the additional protection they were getting, whereas he had none. But once again, he wasn't strong enough to bear plate mail, even if a set had been forged in his size.

It would be completely ridiculous if he even tried. Prey could only sigh to himself and think for the thousandth time, 'I hate, hate, hate, being a runt.'


---


"Oh, Wow~" Taffy exclaimed. The three of them were standing in the frizzy mare's office. Apparently, she was working late tonight, not something Prey was happy about since it meant they were here.

"That's your new armour? It looks amazing, and you guys totally deserve it. Really got the intimidating, 'don't-mess-with-me-bad-guys' look down pat."

"I will agree it is quite a bit nicer, ma'am." Gloom admitted, twisting his head to look back over his new darkly coloured armour. The metal had this new gleam to it which Prey didn't approve of, but he supposed you couldn't have everything.

"Totally." Taffy agreed enthusiastically, "It's great, and it's also great you're finally back."

Taffy paused and blinked as she reconsidered her words, and her grin slipped, '-oh. But Scenic and Lilly aren't back. I don't know what happened, but still, maybe that was really insensitive of me-'

"It's good to be back working where I, where we belong." Gloom stepped in, choosing to politely overlook Taffy's slip.

'Speak for yourself.' Prey thought, edging around one of the teetering stacks of precariously balanced paper files that took up most of Taffy's office. Crimson was also keeping a careful eye on where he placed his hooves.

The mare hadn't asked Crimson about his injuries. Then again, most of them were now hidden under his brand new armour. Still though, it should've been obvious from the way he walked. Or at least it was obvious to Prey. Although, thinking about it, that probably wasn't the sort of thing Taffy would know how to spot.

"Oh, by the way Sargent, I dumped a bunch of boxes and files in your division's office." Taffy added.

Gloom paused suspiciously, "May I ask why?"

"Hey, it's not like you were using your office, and I didn't know when you'd be back, so..." Taffy shrugged.

Gloom let out a mental sigh of relief, '-thank Luna. I was afraid she meant it was all boxes of paperwork for us to do-'

"So do you want us to bring them back then, ma'am?"

"Nah, that wouldn't be fair. I'll find some strapping ponies to come by tomorrow to collect all the boxes. Now, who to send? Which pony's in the naughty book and owes me paperwork at the moment?" Taffy mused, tapping her lip thoughtfully.

Prey decided to have a glance in those boxes to see for himself. Maybe the paperwork was sensitive? He'd never passed up the opportunity for free, potentially useful information. Especially if it was the sort he wasn't supposed to see.

'-as refreshingly... harmless as this all is, we did come here for a reason-', Gloom took a bracing breath, resigning himself to his fate.

"Well if we don't have to deal with that, then great. However, I think there was something about a stack of paperwork you were saving for me, ma'am?"

Taffy cocked her head, her uniform's cap somehow staying on top of her frizzy orange mane, "Well yeah I do, but I thought you'd want at least a day, night, whatever, to settle back in before you tackled it."

Gloom winced, "That's very kind of you ma'am, but we thought it best to get the paperwork over with as soon as possible so we could resume doing the rest of our job afterwards unimpeded."

"Meh. Well it's your funeral." Taffy shrugged, turning to a stacked corner of the office and lighting up her horn.

Gloom saw the size of the pile Taffy was levitating up and his wings sagged, "Crimson, help me carry this, will you?"

"Aw don't be so melodramatic. It's not that bad." Taffy grinned, then gently slapped a hoof to her forehead as she remembered something.

"Hey, I'm about to clock off and get some well earned sleep, but I nearly forgot to ask, you guys are all coming to the Nightmare Night party, right? Did Prey give you the invitation I dropped off, Crimson?" Taffy asked.

There was a subtle shift from both Gloom and Crimson. Prey had indeed shown the irritating invitation to Crimson, if only because he'd known Taffy would follow up. But their pause had nothing to do with that and everything to do with the celebration in question.

Nightmare Night. The celebration of the banishment of Princess Luna a thousand years ago.

Obviously, the celebrations meaning was a lot different nowadays to the ponies of Equestria, but to the thestral clans, it obviously held a very different symbolic meaning. Taffy of course was completely oblivious. To her and the rest of Canterlot, it was just a festive celebration and reason to party.

Prey hadn't ever celebrated Nightmare Night before either, but now they were being asked. He shot a surreptitious glance up at Crimson, and saw that the pegasus was exchanging his own look with Gloom.

"The party's on the 31st, right?" Gloom asked.

"That's right, and it's gonna' be great!"

"And it's from seven until eleven o'clock at night, right?" 

"Yep. Someponies have foals, so they'll probably go home early, but everypony else is welcome to stay later."

Prey watched Gloom relax, "Then yes, if we're off duty, we'll be there until eleven or so, thanks."

"No problemo'. Make sure to come in costume. Now, I'm done for the night, see you later. Bye Crimson, bye Prey!"


---


Taffy Hopes had not been exaggerating about the boxes of files she'd temporarily stored in their office. With emphasis on the word boxes. There was a stack of them, set right in the middle of the floorboards. There was just the lightest layer of dust across the cardboard lids, and indeed, also across most of the ISND office, signalling the passage of time.

It really had been a while since they'd been here. A long time. Prey looked around the wooden shelves, the desk, unbalanced stools, and three cluttered alcoves. Actually, it had been longer than a long time. You measured time differently when you were counting survival. And those who hadn't made it.

Prey narrowed his eyes at the piled up boxes as Gloom fanned his wings, sending the skimming of dust kicking up, where upon he and Crimson both direct most of the resulting dust billow into the far alcove with steady beats of their wings.

Now why had Taffy really chosen to store those boxes temporarily in their office? The self important pencil pushers in the Records Department had plenty of space in their archives. 

'Or more specifically, what's in the boxes that she didn't want the Royal Inspectors to find while they were here?'

Taffy had said she'd send someone around to collect the boxes, but hadn't wanted the ISND to return the boxes themselves. A bit suspicious. The boxes looked like they were filled with only papers and files, but without emptying every box, how could you be sure that was true all the way to the bottom?

Prey couldn't feel even a faint painful tingle in his hooves which would signal any active magic coming from the pile, nor could he feel anything off about the boxes through the runes he'd placed in the office what felt like ages ago. Nowhere near the number of arrays his flat had, or his lair inside the mountain used to have, but still.

'That doesn't tell me much, just that there's nothing strongly magical or probably actively dangerous in any of the boxes.'

But paper could be just as dangerous, and no, not because of black magic spells written down which forced the reader to use them, but rather the more simple reason paper was dangerous.

Because information was power.

Prey thought it was likely Taffy wasn't actually hiding anything, and that he was completely overthinking this. In fact, the chances were eighty-five percent that's what this was. Him being paranoid, and Taffy being too lazy to dump the boxes anywhere else.

'And there must be ten thousand forms and pages in those boxes. There's no way to read them all anyways, especially not before tomorrow.'

Prey looked at the stacks of boxes, and decided, 'No'. He didn't need to know. 

The chances of it affecting him were utterly minimal, he could always go back and read Taffy's mind in the future if it did become pertinent, and he hadn't heard Taffy thinking anything suspicious earlier when they were with her. So no, he didn't need to know what was inside all these boxes.

"I'm glad." Crimson said as he walked up next to Prey, carefully refolding his wings properly. "I mean, I'm glad that all those boxes aren't ours."

"You can say that again, we'd be here for months. This pile is bad enough." Gloom said, tapping the stack of forms Taffy had given him."

"Here, give me a hoof. Everypony gets a third. Many hooves make light work." Gloom added, splitting the paper pile up and passing them each a thick wedge.

Crimson bleakly considered his wedge. The scar traces under his eyes as he looked down at the pages really did unintentionally enhance the melancholy look.

"I'll give you a hoof if you want." Prey offered.

"Yes please."

"Are you offering?" Gloom asked, a tad too eagerly.

"For you? No."

"Darn it. And that's; 'No sir' to you, Prey."


---


And so, they were back. The ISND were back. As simple as that.

It was disturbing how much and how little had changed. Everything they'd survived on the other side of the Ridgeback, the trip back and the recovery in the hospital, the enforced therapy sessions, Lilly and her parents, Saffron Swirl, Lord Vanish stealing Crimson's jade necklace, the subsequent theft following that, and the unjust arrest of Crimson. Actually, the alert against the real thieves was still ongoing.

Prey had no way of letting the Guard know that the thieves were no longer a threat, and never would be again.

At least, not the same order of thieves. But there was a chance there were others. Prey and Lemon were still on edge, waiting for the other horseshoe to drop. His terrifying near death experience had been a reminder of the incessant precariousness of his position. He walked a knife edge, the slightest slip meaning discovery and death.

What if the thieves had left a failsafe behind for someone else to find? And what about the rest of their artifacts? Could someone have been secretly funding their organization? Did they have family who'd look into their disappearance? 

That, and then there were the deaths of the diamond dogs, and of both his precious veropedes.

But despite all of that, Prey and the original ISND were back. Back, and doing paperwork. The endless cycle of reincarnating forms returned no matter how many times you slew them with the quill and ink.


---


Prey finally dropped the quill back into the ink pot, shaking out his near cramping hoof. "Ow."

He groaned and leaned back precariously on the wobbly stool, flipping his ears out of his face and stretched. It had been nearly five hours craned over the desk, filling in form after form in the dim light. Well, dim for him.

Gloom and Crimson were comfortable with the low light level, as usual, but even so, the permanent trace damage left behind by the Reaper King's poison meant they weren't quite as comfortable as they'd once been.

"Thank the moon. Finally done." Gloom pulled off his new helmet and vigorously shook out his tied back mane.

Gloom sighed in relief, pulling his messily displaced mane back with a wing claw, "The new armour's nice, but I've gotten quite used to not wearing a helmet. It's going to take a night or two to get used to again."

Crimson wordlessly nodded his agreement.

Prey paused mid stretch as he realised Crimson was watching him arch and stretch, or rather, looking at his back, "What?"

"Nothing."

Prey wasn't stupid. He could add one and one. He straightened back upright and scowled, "Leave it. I'm fine."

"I didn't say anything."

Right. He hadn't said anything out loud. 'But you were thinking it.' 

Prey wasn't a weakling. He wasn't about to suddenly break down in whip scar cramp just by stretching, thank-you-very-much. It still ticked Prey off that Crimson had walked in on him in that state of weakness. In fact, if it'd been anyone else, anyone else in the whole world but Crimson, he would've wiped their memory.

Prey shook off his annoyance and turned to Gloom, who was pulling his helmet back on, "So I have to ask, what are we solving now? Sir."

Gloom looked up, shiny new helmet back in place, "Solving what now?"

"He means us. The ISND as a whole, I mean." Crimson said, catching on.

"Yes, what case are we solving next? First it was Rocky Bed, then the riots and the Crop Sharer's, then investigating the salt trade, followed by investigating the Royal Guard for traitors, and finally Mayflower. So the question is, now what? What fresh miracle will we have to perform?" Prey asked, idly twisting one of the golden bands around on his foreleg.

'-did we really do all that? Huh. I guess we did-', Gloom thought, blinking and leaning back in contemplation.

Not happy contemplation, but he could deal with it, just the same as he dealt with it every single day. That was the thestral way. Square your shoulders, don't complain, and do your duty.

But Prey raised a good question. What were the ISND going to do now? They hadn't been assigned an active case, (yet), so until they were, they would be looking into old ones.

Gloom looked around at the shelves lining their office's walls, filled with files and scrolls. All were inactive cases or mysteries that the trail had gone cold on. Half weren't even technically crime reports, just mysteries or accidents.

"Do you remember what cases we've got?" Gloom asked.

"Yes." Prey answered.

"Only the details of a few." Crimson admitted.

"I'm the same as Crimson. You're the one with the eidetic memory Prey. I know we sorted through them all before, well, before. Fill me in again on the ones that looked promising."

"You mean the cases with a one in ten chance of solving?" Prey checked.

"...As opposed to the cases with even less than a ten percent chance, then yes."

Prey refrained from snorting at Gloom's optimism. That low of an estimate of success was representative of the rest of the multitude of old cases they had. 'What was madmare Luna thinking when she dreamt up the idea of the ISND? Or does demanding the impossible of your slaves seem realistic when you're an alicorn?'

But there was nothing for it. Prey sat up straighter and cleared his throat, "There's still about four hours before we need to get to the parade ground for Nighthawk's-"

"-Captain Nighthawk."

"-Captain Nighthawk's surprise. That's about enough time to pick out a new case and make a plan of investigation. So here are the most 'solvable' cases. And I use that word very lightly."

Prey pointed to a high shelf where he even now remembered the case file to be, "A missing person incident. Grown stallion, earth pony, last seen near the Everfree forest eight months ago. Happy family stallion, no debts, illnesses, or criminal history. No signs or traces of him having gone in anywhere but into the trees. He's been pronounced dead, but the Guard never actually found anything to prove his death."

Prey delicately cleared his throat, "If we were to take that case, all we'd find in the unlikely event we succeed in even that much is a few bones."

Gloom and Crimson didn't ask the dumb question; 'But what if he's still alive?' They knew the chances of an unskilled person like that surviving in the wilds. If the stallion hadn't returned by now, he never would. There was always hope, but it was a fools hope.

"I... don't think we'll take that one, then." Gloom winced.

Prey nodded. He could remember the misty pine trees just as well as the other two now where. He pointed at a different shelf:

"Over there is following up on the salt trade. After stopping Garrow-"

Hearing the dead griffin's name from Prey, both Crimson and Gloom twitched, but Prey didn't.

"-all arrested salt workers were interrogated, and everyone they named was thoroughly followed up on by the Night Guard and either arrested or rehabilitated. However, there's bound to be a few buyers on the street who slipped through the net. We could try tracking these old addicts down. They're almost certainly nobodies, and what with the salt supply into Canterlot being eliminated, it's kind of a null and void task anyway." Prey said with a shrug. It sounded like an innocent and boring enough task.

"Okay, and the next?" Gloom asked.

"There's over seven years of filed assertions of theft from a noble by Lady Grey's estates, but she refuses to elaborate on theft of what. She always demands each of her reports are investigated. The Royal Guard have been back and forth over the years, and never found anything. There's never any damage or witnesses."

"That's sad, but probably not related in any way. Is this Lady Grey, uh, old?" Gloom asked.

"Seventy-six this year."

"I don't think there's any truth to her reports, but we'll bear it in mind. Next?"

"Disappearing town square statues."

"Pardon?"

"Over the last ten years, with no discernible pattern, dotted all across Equestria, without rhyme or apparent reason, the occasional statue in a town's square will go missing overnight. Magic is involved in some way. In and of itself, it's only public property damage, and not a big concern, but no one has any idea who might be doing it, or why."

"Huh. That's... Okay, I have no opinion aside from that it sounds annoying. But let's move on." Gloom said, Crimson nodding his agreement.

"This ones a bit more... circumspect shall we say. Investigating the nobility."

Gloom waited, "And? Investigating which ponies? And for what?"

"Just investigating the nobility in general. There's always a constant stream of gossip and rumours about this or that noble breaking some law, or cheating their neighbour out of land, or tax evasion, or secretly buying out stocks under a false name, or starting scams to drive up their house prices, that sort of thing."

"Let me guess, there's no evidence of any kind to support any of it, and no two reports agree?" Gloom guessed skeptically, leaning on his hoof.

"Correct. Those that did have any evidence more than mere heresay have already been looked into by other Guards before. Or sometimes by private detectives or law firms."

'-so in other words, it's just disgruntled and spiteful citizens making up stories about the nobility-'

"I'm sure if we looked long and hard enough, we'd find something done by somepony, but our time could better be spent elsewhere. What else?" Gloom asked.

"The last case within that margin of possible success is spy hunting."

Gloom and Crimson both paused incredulously, "Spy hunting?"

"Yes. We're the Intelligence and Secrecy Night Guard Division. That includes anti-intelligence and stopping spies."

"But, spies? Really? In Canterlot?" Gloom raised his eyebrows.

"Are there really nations spying on Canterlot? Wouldn't they, stand out?" Crimson asked.

He did have a point. You couldn't exactly have minotaurs, or griffins, or diamond dogs as secret agents in Equestria. The whole idea was ridiculous.

"I mean, what's there to find? Both their majesties are very open about almost everything," Gloom waved his wing, "Equestria isn't at war with anypony. Or even hostile. Neutral at worst."

Prey shrugged, "There'll still be pony spies. Nothing like the ridiculous stories with overblown cloak and dagger stuff. These spies probably don't even consider themselves spies, merely... entrepreneurs. Here's an example. They're paid to write up and mail a letter overseas to a certain address about how many tonnes of barley farmers in an area really harvested this season, or look into private company records of how much ore they really use. Or how far weather teams are willing to lower prices if really pushed. The sort of information which allows other nations to leverage much better trade deals."

"I can't see that making very many thrilling tales of adventure and intrigue." Gloom said dryly.

"That's most of it. But I'm sure there are at least a few real spies mixed in there too, of the more hidden an insidious kind. Of course, I have no actual basis for this, but it stands to reason." Prey said.

Gloom and Crimson looked at each other, suddenly much more serious, "Hmm. That's even less thrilling."

"I doubt we'll ever catch any real spies, but those are the cases I judge the best chance of success in. For a given definition of success." Prey shrugged.

Prey couldn't help but wonder in the back of his mind whether he was condemning them to some fresh, stomach heaving, soul breakingly awful horror, just waiting to spring out like a jack in the box the moment the ISND opened their chosen case.

"And those are all of the potential cases?" Gloom asked.

"No, but those are the ones I think we're most likely to be able to do something about." Prey said. Keeping up a steam of successes would prove he was still useful and keep Luna content. Prey had no interest in returning to languish in pony prison.

"Alright. So the big question is; which case should we pick?" Gloom asked, looking around. 

He was the Sargent. The decision was technically his, but in reality it wasn't really. The three of them weren't really a Guard unit anymore. They were more. The ISND was a team, one with lots of disappointment, occasional distrust and friction, but a team nonetheless.

Which case to pick out? Which one to take?

"I feel either the spy one or cleaning out the last salt dealers. I don't like to leave a job only mostly finished." Crimson stated.

"And you, Prey?" Gloom prompted.

"It's trivial, but catching the person displacing the stone statues will probably be the easiest." 

Actually, Prey had no doubt finding some noble or rich pony doing something dodgy would be far easier, ponies were greedy, but he had a reason not to want to tackle that never ending case just yet. He really didn't want to risk drawing any more negative attention. The last noble he'd gotten mixed up with had been Lord Vanish because of Crimson's jade necklace, and look where that had led in the end? 

A fight to the death, the diamond dogs, and the loss of both his veropedes.

"I don't think we should just pick the easiest one. We should take the most important one or ones," Gloom said, "I'm thinking the same as Crimson, actually. Either cleaning away the last remnants of the drug trade, or attempting to root out any spies in Canterlot."

"That's a tie on both of those options, then." Prey observed.

Crimson half cocked one ear, "How shall we decide then? Bounce a stone?"

"Bounce a stone?" Prey queried.

"You don't know-? Oh, it's a clan thing. Bounce a stone, I guess it's the same as tossing a coin here in Canterlot. We had no use for bits in the clans." Gloom explained, shrugging.

"Ah, I get it."

"Actually though, since it's a tie between those two, I think you should make the call Prey. That fine with you Crimson?" Gloom asked.

"That works too."

Both of them looked at Prey. Seemed it was up to him in the end to decide what they were going to be doing for the next however long.

'Sniffing out spies, or sniffing out salt. Which one do I hate the idea of the least?' Prey considered. He had a bad feeling that this seemingly innocuous decision would have far reaching consequences. Everything always went wrong, that's how life worked.

But Prey couldn't see the future. For all he knew, both options would turn out equally bad. He had no reason to pick one or the other.

'I don't want to pick. I don't want to risk whatever is going to happen afterwards.'

But he had to pick one. Gloom and Crimson were waiting, and from the way they were looking at him, yellow eyes intent, they both felt the same ridiculous superstitious fear he did of the choice. 

Prey sighed, and looked up at the office's ceiling, "Well in that case..."


------


It was ten minutes to four in the morning. It was dark on parade ground one, with not a lantern in sight. But it was still occupied. 

Quietly, and without fuss, thestrals appeared one by one out of somewhere in the dark and silently fell into line on the parade ground.

They didn't talk, or exchange any greetings, they just took their place in line and silently waited. Prey couldn't even tell where they were all appearing from, apparently they were just dropping out of the night. He bet Crimson and Gloom could see where the thestrals kept coming from just fine. But he could at least tell from listening in on the thoughts of those closest line around him that they didn't really know what Nighthawk's surprise was either.

Stars winked coldly in the dark above, the moon a brilliant silver coin.

Prey sat impatiently  on his haunches and absently batted the end of his ribbon. 'This is taking too long. Really, the whole thing's been too long in the coming.'

Prey could be rather impatient at times, when there wasn't a dire need for patience. He'd learnt patience in a cell in Dreverton, but he'd also learnt how boring it was. Year after year after year with no end in sight, with no hope for release, and only your own mind for company, now that was true patience.

More thestrals appeared out of the dark, and took their place in line. The ISND stood out and also simultaneously didn't in their new armour. The first because it was different to everyone else, the second because although the armour was sleek, it was also unassuming if you weren't looking. If you didn't know armour, it might look a bit disappointing compared to the pomp and golden finery of the Royal Guards' own.

Nighthawk appeared, dropping out of the night to take his place at the head of the silent parade. He bent his legs and absorbed the impact of his swift landing flawlessly. As he refolded his leathery wings, he turned his head to look back over the assembled Night Guard legion. His yellow eyes shone in the dark as he gazed across his command. However small the Night Guard, he was still their Captain. 

Looking carefully around, Prey counted nearly every single thestral Night Guard in attendance right now. The ones drafted from the regular Guard weren't here. Only around ninety ponies, not many compared to the Royal Guard, but they'd all still been summoned here to bear witness.

There was a feeling in the night air, anticipation, intensified by the silent rows of thestrals.

It was past four o'clock in the morning now, but the promised surprise hadn't appeared yet. They all waited on, the night chill just below comfortable. The silver moon watched on from its unmoving vantage point.

Prey was picking out a knot in his wool, tugging hard. He stopped and sat up, listening. It wasn't anything he'd heard as such, more... what he wasn't expecting to hear. Prey's brows scrunched up, he closed his eyes to better focus on his hearing. A cold prickle touched his hooves, coming from inside.

'Zoma'Grika!' Prey scrambled back to his hooves in line. Damn damn damn.

There was an inhale of air, a breathless moment of stillness, and Luna appeared. She stepped out of apparent thin air, a starry curtain of night pushed aside with a glow of her long horn as she appeared, standing before Nighthawk at the head of the Night Guard. Or rather, it had always been her Night Guard.

She tilted her chin just slightly, and looked down on them all, her existence as an alicorn immediately capturing everyone's attention. Love her, hate her, she was still an alicorn.

Nighthawk immediately bowed, going fully down onto one knee. Behind him in a wave, every thestral emulated him and bowed before Luna. Pulse pounding, Prey hastily lowered his head, staring at the dark paving slabs of the parade ground. However he couldn't help but raise his eyes just high enough to see a moment later. She was here. It was the Moon Wolf, the architect of his imprisonment. The last time he'd seen the hated alicorn, she'd knocked him unconscious for daring to stand up for Crimson. 

'Stupid!' Why hadn't he thought that Luna would be here for this? Of course she would.

"Your Majesty." Nighthawk gruffly intoned.

"Nay, we art your Mistress Nocturna tonight."

There was a significance in that imperious statement.

"Mistress Nocturna of the Night." Nighthawk corrected himself.

Luna dipped her horn a fraction of an inch, "Our Guard Captain, thou may rise."

Only then did Nighthawk get off his knee. The rest of the assembled thestral force also rose, standing in their stoic rows, but with all their yellow eyes and tufted ears focused on the tall alicorn at their head. Prey fervently hoped she didn't look this way, because if she did he'd-

Zoma'Grika, she was looking this way! He hurriedly dropped his head, fighting down a shudder at having an alicorn look at him.

Luna's emotionless gaze was lingering overly long on him, on the three of them, weighing them up.

'Judging if we're still worth anything to her.' What had made her choose some greedy selfish noble over Crimson's misplaced loyalty in the first place? Apathy? Or maybe just her own amusement? A test?

"My faithful ponies, my soldiers of the Night." Luna's voice was imperious, regal, but to Prey's ears it still rang with undertones of uncaring detachment, "We thank thee all for thy service to ponykind, even when it goes unknown."

Barely a stir. These thestrals wouldn't do something so crass as to stomp or cheer as the dark alicorn paused to survey her audience again.

"Equestria has changed much from whence we knew. It had changed from what thy ancestors knew. We art all still adapting to the Equestria mine sister has raised. These changes matter little, for duty remains the same. Thy duty, and mine own. Once we did slip, but now we art back, and our duty remains to be resumed."

A slip. Only a 'slip'. Nearly dooming all life to darkness and freezing death only counted as a slip. Luna's statement was cold, factual, and blunt. Prey heard no apology in her words or her tone. A thousand years of imprisonment on the moon, what kind of apathy must she have come to terms with while up there? All of this must matter to her so little when compared to an eon.

"Duty." Luna repeated heavily, voice carrying, "Always watching, soldiers of the night. Your vigil has begun anew once again. On this full moon of my night, we gather to welcome thy new brothers and sisters into the fold."

Luna turned, spreading her wings. They rose up above her, larger than Crimson's, massive, a halo of feathers framing her head as she faced the moon. Her head tilted up, Prey couldn't see her face as she stared up at the silver moon, no one could. But the night was not dark around where she stood, it was somehow almost bright. It showed off where Luna stood.

There was no actual shaft of moon light or physical brightening in spectrum, but Luna's whole presence seemed to be glowing.

Prey heard the thestrals all around him in line breathe out as one, and the night breathed with them.

Prey saw something different to all of them as Luna's wings spread wider, casting everyone behind her in shadow. He saw power. 

Prey sucked in a shaky breath. His mouth was dry. Powerful magic. But he didn't feel any agonizing stinging from the runes on his hooves, just distant numbness. But he felt it just as surely in his bones instead.

It wasn't unicorn magic. It was other magic. 

It looked simple, an understated muted effect, but Prey could feel it rolling off Luna in invisible waves. Power in use. Awesome in scope. Foreign, but now that he was aware of it, it thrummed in his ears. He didn't know what it was.

'Alicorn magic?'

It felt to Prey like he'd been standing on a flat plane of sand and never noticed. Only know that he felt the slightest shift under his hooves did he look down, and realise how vast the desert was. The unimaginable weight and mass of all that sand. As if he'd never noticed the desert he lived in until now.

Prey didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be anywhere near this old magic. He looked around. No one else seemed to sense it. Was it just him? How could they not feel that?! 

The moon was sinking. Prey jerked, but of course it was sinking, Luna was lowering the moon. He was seeing the vast power of an alicorn's magic. 

'I hate magic. I hate it I hate it I hate it.'

The moon was sinking fast, not lowering in the usual gradual fall as morning approached. Luna was taking direct control and making an astral body speed its course. 

Prey's mouth was numb, his tongue felt like lead, 'How am I ever going to break free from that?'

"Welcome," Luna boomed up into the night, "Lady Nocturna bids you come!"

And as the moon slid down into the dark horizon, it became the silver backdrop to an approaching formation of black silhouettes growing larger. Winged shapes, flying in a 'V', growing larger. First it looked like only ten, then a second 'V' was revealed in the shadow of the first as Prey squinted.

Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Forty-three in total. The thestrals spiralled out of the night, travel saddlebags on their flanks. Each carried a weapon of some form with familiarity, but little to no armour. Sheathed wingblades, holstered javelins, hammer hooves, retracted griffin claws, or a spear.

More thestrals from the two loyal clans had finally answered their Princess's call and come to Canterlot.


---I---




[[[Bonus Picture - Randy and Lemon Pink, since so many people liked him]]]