//------------------------------// // Chapter Eleven: Poison // Story: Cure For a Toxin // by RadBunny //------------------------------// Knife Twist parried a strike with her spear, cutting down the shadow ponies that sought to do her charge harm. ‘Just let us by,’ the dozens of enemy soldiers whispered in unison, Knife glaring at them as she backed up slightly. ‘NEVER! I won’t let you kill the Princess!’ The soldiers laughed, all pointing behind Knife Twist at the same time, their white eyes narrowed in amusement. ‘You already did!’ Knife Twist woke up with a horrified yell, the bloodied and mangled body of her best friend the last thing she remembered. Her thin body was soaked with sweat, the same reoccurring nightmare refusing to let her rest. But before that, there was something else. Ever since her first meeting with Celestia, the nightmares had gotten worse. Images of death and shadow, whispers of something dark in her mind; but this was different. The shadows of sunset began to lengthen across her room, the darkness making the mare’s heart ache. It was like a vice on her mind. No spell could detect or banish it, but it was always there, whispering and lurking. A weight, something squeezing her soul. Asking on her behalf, Celestia had even consulted Luna; Knife Twist dared not ask the Lunar Princess herself. And yet the response had been the same. Nothing could be detected, and even Emperor Nacreous’s mages came up short. The ever-present darkness refused to leave, hiding from magical scans or banishing spells alike. It was maddening, until now. Now she could use that constant feeling. Something is going to happen. Writing a letter, Knife Twist sent it on its way with a tap of her hoof. It was a special permission granted by the Solar Princess, a way to contact her in case of an emergency. She had sent such warnings this past week but none this urgent. This was more than a general unease, but a flicker of familiar power that she recognized from more than a year ago. It was familiar, yes, but different too. Darker, more sinister. Not only a flood of the hate-filled magic the Windigos used, but something that made her stomach twist into knots, something wrong. I cannot stand by. And yet stuck in her cell, Knife Twist knew that was all she could do. Over the past few week’s food had lost its savor and sleep was a fleeting pleasure. But none of that mattered. I have to warn them. The faces of the dead stared unblinking at the terrified stallion. Trotting through a sea of green and red liquid, the army stopped a stone’s throw away from Toxic Shield, the stallion’s sides heaving. A single item floated down in front of his face, making the pony blink in surprise. A feather. It was a mental signal, a fail-safe if Toxic wasn’t able to wake from a dream naturally. A feather was the switch that this was in fact a dream. Usually it was a passive awareness, other times a sudden realization to snap himself out of it that Toxic’s own mind provided in times of need. Other instances included if Luna wanted to cut off a nightmare at the start without directly interfering. In fact, he could hear the faint, frantic calls of the familiar mare. Luna?! Where are you?! The boulder on which Toxic stood shivered, the stallion shaking himself mentally out of his stupor. “A dream. So that means you all can leave!” he bellowed, horn sparking with power. The ocean vanished, thick grass replacing it as the reanimated corpses crumbled into dust. “Oh, but I think we’ll stay a bit longer.” The unicorn felt a shiver run down his spine at that, seeming to hear multiple tones overlapping into the sinister, malevolent voice. The field of grass lightened into twilight, Toxic staring in shock as a disembodied face floated in front of him. Not responding to his usual lucid-dreaming techniques, the white eyes widened, a beak opening in laughter as the face of gryphon resolved itself. “Oh, I am not a dream, little pony. Your tricks won’t work on me. And your precious princess can’t interfere, not for a few moments longer,” the gryphon chuckled. “How does it feel, Toxic Shield, to see the future?” The stallion stared, fear creeping into his heart. What is this!? Who is this?! Are they in my head?! “Oh yes. We are here, Toxic. Your dreams, your thoughts are easy to read here,” the face chuckled. “As to who I am? It matters not. You can simply call me the Bringer. In this case, I am the Bringer of the unavoidable truth.” The field shifted and warped, a noxious sea of thick fluid returning to the fore. “And the truth is that you failed in the past, and you will fail in the future. How many creatures have died because of your failures? Dozens? Hundreds?” the Bringer asked. “It will be more, of course. Your family, your friends…” “Get out of my head,” Toxic growled, sending a blast of arcane energy punching through the Bringer’s face. The energy did nothing but annoy the gryphon, claws materializing to wipe away the remnants of the strike. “No. I need to make you understand,” the Bringer growled. “Your family. Your friends, you know that you can’t save them all! You saw the lab before it happened, so what do you think THIS is?” The hundreds, thousands of creatures reanimated with soulless eyes now spread out as far as Toxic could see. Canterlot, ruined and burning was visible in the background as the stallion felt his heart thudding in his throat. “You put that in my head. That is YOUR doing! Just trying to goad me,” Toxic replied even as a cold sweat soaked his fur. The mental barriers in place seemed to be bypassed, this new force not taking the usual methods of mind-reading magic. “Oh, but of course. Yet you are the only one who could have saved them,” the gryphon replied dismissively. “I know who you are. Your fears, how well-founded they are. I wonder how that could be? To forget a step in that oh-so-important chemical shower. It’s not goading if it’s the truth!” Toxic’s eyes widened in horror, knowing where the entity was going with this. The gryphon chuckled malevolently, gesturing with his claws to bring a familiar hospital room back to the fore. “A simple, neglectful act, and you will kill the only creature in this world who dared to love you. How poetically tragic,” the Bringer quipped. “But with how tired you must be from day to day, it’s certainly understandable.” Toxic’s eyes brimmed with tears; the stallion caught up in the flow of the nightmare as the bundled-up creature on the hospital bed shifted. “Perhaps this new gryphoness will be the one you kill?” That made Toxic’s throat close up with emotion, the words threatening to kill the spark of hope that had kindled in the pony’s chest the day before. “Not her,” he whispered, the fear now giving way to something else, something that made the pony’s limbs cease their shaking, a growl rising up in Toxic’s throat. I’m so sick of this, so tired. “Get out of my head, creature!” he hissed, glaring at the gryphon. “Perhaps, perhaps not. That’s not you to decide. Now watch your fate! Her fate! Watch all of their lives snuffed out in a moment because you failed!” Even as the hospital scene began to return to motion once again, Toxic shook his head. No. A familiar pull then tugged at the pony’s consciousness, and the stallion couldn’t help but draw a surprised breath. The leylines were just within reach, and the unicorn dove into the offered energy without a second thought. I don’t know why I can feel them so strongly without a spell, but I don’t care. His horn flashed, a ropey, arcane tether of blue light wrapping around the pony’s hoof and startling the gryphon. “What are you doing?” the intruder growled. A surge of power coursed through Toxic’s mind, the peaceful ebb and flow of the world’s leylines grounding him like waves on the shore of an ocean. More tethers wrapped themselves around the stallion, his horn aglow with a piercing white light as he reached out to the leylines even from the dream realm. Or are they reaching out to me? “You don’t get to decide my fate! Not mine, not my friends, and not my family!” Toxic hissed. The energy surging around his body now tore into the dream, eating away at the noxious ocean and spreading outwards in a uniform circle towards the gryphon. “You said it yourself, I’m the only one who can stop this!” Toxic bellowed, taking a tentative step forward. His hoof hit solid ground, the pony not looking away from the increasingly uncomfortable apparition. “I’m the one who WILL stop this!” A shield of white light materialized in front of the stallion, chains made of the same arcane energy reaching out from the stony ground and pinning the opposing half-gryphon in place. “Will you now?” The cocky reply threw the stallion off guard even as he sent an emergency location rune blasting ‘up’ through the dream, a beacon to the Lunar Princess. A sudden pain stabbed into Toxic’s left forelimb and snapped him awake, even as the image of a raging Lunar Princess diving towards a horrified gryphon faded from his mind. Toxic then realizing the red glow was from behind his closed eyes, his heart thudding in his ears. Thump-thump. “INTRUDER ALERT!” A disembodied voice blared, magical energy making Toxic’s fur stand on end. The unicorn opened his eyes, and Toxic’s blood ran cold. Magical suppression fields made the air hum with power as the security system in his apartment sent spell after spell coursing through the maroon-tinted room. A high-pitched whine echoed through the room, a combination of his own natural voice wavelengths to disorient and deafen any intruders. The shocking spells alone had enough power to flatten a manticore. Thump-thump. “INTRUDER ALERT! SYSTEMS COMPROMISED!” Poised mid-flight, a sneering earth pony had a forelimb drawn back in a strike, a long dagger strapped on the end of his hoof. Clad in odd, leather-like armor the pony was frozen mid-air by the powerful paralyzing security spells. The pony’s body was now starting to move, the armor across the stallion’s frame sparking as hidden gems began to override Toxic’s countermeasures and block the auditory attack. The magical protections clearly insulated against the other security measures, even if not completely. Thump-thump. Toxic reached over and slammed his forelimb down on the nightstand, activating a panic button and also causing a large bracer to snap closed around his extended limb. Activating with a mechanical whine the metal armor extended across Toxic’s entire forelimb, a dozen small crystals sparking with bolts of white lightning as they extended up from the grey surface. With a simple mental command, the bracer sparked with a powerful hum that eclipsed the blaring alarm. The crystals angled towards Toxic’s hoof, a leyline tether spell sucking up the power like a sponge. “You cannot do anything but fail and watch them all die!” The Bringer’s voice that radiated from the pony’s mouth didn’t match up with the non-moving lips, even as the would-be-assassin’s eyes glowing white. The blast that seared from the activated weapon tore off the earth-pony’s right shoulder, limb, and half of its face, splattering shadow-like goo against the nearest wall. The assassin let out a gurgling hiss as the security systems failed, releasing the pony as he tottering up on three remaining good hooves and grinning at Toxic. A spectral outline half replaced the pony’s face, a shadow-gryphon’s beak matching up with lips even as Toxic took aim once again. “Oh, I know you, Toxic Shield! You will fail them. You can only watch as your family suffers, your friends, and of course as she suffers.” Toxic only saw red. “Never.” Even while fear tore at his heart and threatened to paralyze him rage pushed Toxic into action as the voice faded. Weeks of sleep deprivation and nightmares; it shoved aside the fear and conscious thought. For a brief moment, years of trauma and continually suppressed and raw pain were manifested as this leering assassin taunting him. Anger focused all that energy into a single spike of action and mental desire. The bracer let out a high-pitched whine, the leyline magic becoming tinged crimson. Toxic’s eyes widened into an entirely green sclera as red pupils swam into focus. Dark violet magic dripped from his gaze like tears, two fangs lengthening in the sneer that now slid onto Toxic’s features. The leylines shifted their color from a light blue to an angry red, surging around the stallion with sparks that ate into the nearby walls and made the crystals on the bracer vibrate with arcane overload. Furious tongues of crimson magic surged through the pony’s body, spreading outwards from his back like an aggressive pair of flared wings tinged with shadow. The assassin’s eyes widened in genuine fear and shock, gryphon-half seeming to recoil slightly at the sight of the changed stallion. “You know nothing about me!” The bracer sparked and let out a roar that matched Toxic’s guttural growl, the weapon sending a spear of crimson and white arcane energy tearing through the horrified earth pony’s features. The assassin’s body was splattered against the wall, green, black, and red sludge dripping down a hidden shield that prevented the attack from leaving the apartment proper. The shadow portion shrieked and clawed desperately at the attack, red bolts of lightning angrily diving into the creature’s eyes as it was blown apart to match the liquified ‘body’ coating the walls. As a Solar Princess disabled the remaining security systems with a surge of power, Legionnaires dashed into the room, spears and swords raised at the stallion on the bed- “Toxic!” Princess Celestia called, pushing her way to the front of the line. The stallion let out a growl and glared at her, horn aglow with a crimson aura as uncontrolled magic tore into the carpet under his hooves. Standing at the ready, Specialist Shield took aim with the weaponized armor, head twitching as dark magic continued to spill from his eyes. “Toxic, stand down. You are among friends. You’re safe,” she said softly. Yet there was a moment where Toxic saw it all; the fear, the horror, the genuine sorrow a split second before the mask slammed into place. Celestia couldn’t take back those last two words, no matter how much she wanted to. Toxic’s reflection looked back at him in the Alicorn’s eyes; black and green mane billowing with his face plastered with a sneer of rage. There was a glint of something else, an emotional dart that was aimed directly at the Alicorn herself. He knew fully well what he was saying, but in that moment Toxic didn’t care. He vividly remembered seeing Celestia differently almost two decades prior as he had looked up to her in awe. A moment when the Princess of Equestria had asked him, a young colt, for help. Not for some simple task like before, but something bigger. How honored he had been… A single word left Toxic’s lips as the dark magic faded from his eyes. There was no hatred left though, no anger directed at the Princess; only bitter pain. The dismay of having realized a parent wasn’t perfect, the unforgettable knowledge that what you once thought they were was based on a lie. The searing reminder that you had been used by someone you trusted. Celestia’s two words dredged up an ever-raw patch of memory. It could never be forgotten. Long since forgiven but scars were still reminders all the same. Forgiveness did not always warrant trust. “You’re safe.” “Liar,” Toxic hissed, glaring at Celestia; he held her gaze without wavering even the slightest. The moment quickly passed and Toxic’s sides began to heave. He began to hyperventilate as the bracer slid from his forelimb, the device now falling to pieces from the outburst. The dark magic faded from his eyes, the stallion starting to shiver violently. “W-what?” he whispered, looking around and starting to wobble on his hooves. “What did I-?” The last thing he remembered was collapsing into a golden aura and the familiar voice of Luna then easing him into a dreamless sleep. Entire body aching from the unexpected magical attack, the Bringer growled at the corner of the dark room, levering himself up. “Dark magic? A leyline connection? That hurt!” “You dare complain? I blunted the majority of the shock. It is an unexpected development, but does not change our goals,” a smooth voice replied. Two white eyes flickered open in the darkness, the vague outlines of predator’s head taking shape. The simple, pony-like head was closest to that of a unicorn except fangs lined its mouth and the horn on its head was curved as though from a bladed weapon. White eyes glared at the gryphon, the apparition letting out a huff. “You should be thankful I blessed you with my presence for that little attack. The Lunar Princess would have destroyed you, that stallion and his security systems doubly so. You can tell your Commander that his assassin is safe, as you are. The leyline magic would have easily thwarted my usual efforts; you are very lucky.” As his general had bowed before him, it was now the Bringer that lay prone with a nod. “Forgive my complaints. I was merely taken off guard. I do not have the foresight and full plan as you do, my Lord.” “No, you do not,” the shadow replied smoothly without a hint of anger. “And yet you continue to follow my orders precisely. For that you are to be rewarded continually.” The gryphon felt a blissful warmth in his mind, a piece of the shadow on the floor flowing over to spread across his figure. “I am of the Lord’s personal guard, now assigned to you,” a familiar voice in the gryphon’s mind stated as the other figure continued to speak. “I must return to my anchor now. Continue with the plans I have given you, but this new pony must be watched carefully. Extract, analyze, and eliminate him. If his resistance to our substances cannot be extracted for our own personal use, kill him. I leave it up to you how best to acquire him and force his cooperation, if such is even possible. The end result must be his death. Give him a bit of time to be worn down, for the guards to become complacent. Then strike. I doubt his mental state will remain stable for long after that attack. I will inform you if the timetable changes.” “As you command, my Lord,” the Bringer replied, then pausing. The shadow-creature then grinned, fangs showing at the gryphon’s hesitation. “Is there another matter?” “I…” “Come now, have I ever unfairly punished somecreature for a concern?” Try as he might, the Bringer couldn’t think of one. He was always fair and just. Brutal and savage, yes, but never without reason. “Some of my subordinates are asking questions, my Lord,” the gryphon finally said. “Commander Chaster and his squad in particular. They are some of the most loyal, and while I too am curious, such concerns are beneath you.” “Are they now? But such miniscule concerns can grow to a problem that may threaten an empire. Do tell me,” the Shadow asked, voice calm and sincere. “They wish to ask when you will resurrect Her, as you originally promised.” It was a slight twitch of the eye, the Shadow actually appearing a tad annoyed. It was then gone, replaced with a forced patience of a ruler. “Ah. And you have such concerns, do you not?” “Curiosities, my Lord. Not so much as a concern.” That seemed to please the shadow, the creature chuckling. “Well put. Hmmm, I do think it’s time to clarify a few loyalties. You still have the crystal shard in your possession?” “Yes, it is in the next chamber.” “Do you hear the Windigos when you get close to it?” “I do.” The shadow then grinned, barely-hidden eagerness dripping from every fang in its expression. “Tell me, Bringer,” the Shadow asked. “And I do hope you answer honestly. From what you have seen of my plans, my power, my resources; did you ever truly believe I would bring back some husk of a mare? A paltry Witch who sold her soul to hatred for personal gain? Your title was in reference to her, yes, the Bringer of the Emissary’s return, or whatever it must be. But knowing that I actually meant for you to be my Bringer, what say you? You’re one of the smarter mortals I’ve seen, surely this must not be a shock.” The gryphon’s brow furrowed, what was once a fearful question now replaced with an answer that made sense, almost too much. Why hadn’t he realized this sooner? A soft voice chuckled in his mind; the Lord’s personal guard. ‘It is alright. My Lord knows emotion can cloud judgement. He thinks highly of you regardless. Your loyalty to your previous Master is commendable.’ “No. I see no reason you would bring back the Emissary other than for her to serve you,’ the Bringer finally said. The Shadow chuckled, nodding in approval. “And that is your answer. The free Windigos preserved in that crystal are our allies; they do not wish to trust their existence to another pitiful mortal soul. Such an action led to the destruction of many of their kind at the hoof of Celestia and her allies,” his Lord explained. “It is unfortunate I had to misdirect your loyalties and your subordinates at first but there was no other way. Your dedication to the Emissary was admirable, and I had to wait until my plans could be fully realized.” “I understand,” “Oh?” The question was obviously left open ended, the gryphon simply shrugging. “If you had simply asked our allegiance from the start, we would have doubted your power out of ignorant pride. Now there can be no doubt. I personally will gladly serve you instead of a ghostly remnant. I expect others will do the same.” The Shadow grinned, nodding in approval. “Then I leave it up to you, as to the best method of explaining the situation. If any doubt my willingness to fulfil my promises, I will gladly make an example of them,” the creature then laughed, shaking its head. “That sounds much more sinister than I intended. I will gladly give them the same gifts that I have others. I do not wish to have jealousy spread throughout my ranks.” “Of course, thank you, my Lord.” “Carry on, my Bringer.” The apparition then vanished, leaving the gryphon to meander down the mountain-cut hallways. “He is pleased with your work,” the gryphon’s shadow-half stated calmly. “You are to be commended.” “I’ll accept such commendations after our plans are in motion, and that pony is dead or turned to our side,” the gryphon muttered, striding out of the stone room towards his generals. “I naturally feel annoyed at being misled, but my Lord is wise to have done so. We would have foolishly turned his gifts away with our past misguided loyalty. I’d rather serve a living King than a skeletal witch! A sinister laugh echoed through his mind, the voice of the Greater shadow returning to the Bringer’s mind temporarily. “Ah, and that is why I like you. Carry on, my right hoof.” Some Time Later Celestia let a few hot tears streak her cheeks in the privacy of her own study, useless spell books cast about her figure. Despite the safety measures she had meticulously crafted around Toxic’s apartment they had been swept aside by whatever evil magic the assassin had utilized. A shield bypassed; proximity alarms deactivated; the usual countermeasures had proven utterly useless. The power of the Sun at her disposal, and Celestia’s magic had been bypassed, her hooves tied by a force she didn’t fully understand. Again. She broke her promise. Again. Celestia at least had the frame of mind to cast a shielding spell before throwing out a fiery blast in rage-filled yell, the fire wrapping around her torso before vanishing. She could excuse it, of course, her past regrets. Celestia had been alone without her sister, without a confidant. Confident in her rule of a millennium. She had settled into the routine of making the decision to benefit the many, for their needs outweighed the one. Pieces on a chessboard; that was how she had viewed things for the sake of her sanity. When ponies passed away in what was a blink of an eye for her it made things easier during a thousand years of sole rule. Yet she had been wrong, so very wrong. Such a view had only isolated Celestia more during her reign and in this case damaged a very empathetic pony. A few words said repeatedly to a colt years ago who had looked up at her in wonder as the Princess asked him to enter a broken laboratory to save dozens of ponies. Not the simple maintenance tasks like the year or two before, but an actual rescue mission. And she had promised, given a reassurance that had been blindly trusted and accepted. She was the Princess of Equestria; of course she was right. Of course she would keep her word. A Goddess who had ruled for a thousand glorious years wouldn’t lie. She was good; the embodiment of light and kept promises. That was what most ponies believed, and what Celestia herself had begun to. Her reassurances had led him to accept the tasks, starting Toxic on a path earlier than he was ready for. Such blind wonder only lasted a year after that. Toxic learned too early the fallibility of Equestria’s ‘Goddess’. A chess set was roughly shoved off a small table in a flick of magic, tears of regret brewing in Celestia’s eyes. I treated him like a Pawn when I should have spoken to him as a Knight from the start. I underestimated his importance by leagues. And now, he will never believe the Queen has his bests interests at heart; and he’s right. The Queen cannot lose the game to preserve a single piece, no matter how much she values it. That knowledge didn’t make me feel better then, and it certainly doesn’t now. It certainly doesn’t make my actions right. He should have known from the start. In that moment years ago, Celestia had lost a sacred trust that could never be re-forged. From the time he had accused her and the Princess had only replied in silence, Toxic had made his position abundantly clear. In times more recent it had been said much more respectfully and in a kinder manner than Celestia felt she deserved. But the tears of a betrayed friend still haunted her from that day more than a decade prior. A young stallion standing alone in the throne room, bandages across his side and forelimbs and asking the simple question of why, why she didn’t keep her promise? Where was she when he needed her? Why didn’t she help when he cried out in fear and pain, trapped under a hundred tons of metal, steel, and fire? Where was the Goddess who promised him safety? Why couldn’t she help? What stopped her? Deadly chemicals, magical interference, a collapsing lab; but those don’t matter. Mere reasons that could only be seen as excuses to a pony who thought I had no weaknesses. I would have likely perished in moments, magic or not. Like today, I was faced with a force I didn’t fully understand. For one of the few moments in a thousand years, I wasn’t sure of the enemy I was facing. But I promised. If only I had been strong enough to be honest with him, with myself. Even the memory of the angry conversation, the betrayed loathing in Toxic’s eyes was enough to ice over Celestia’s heart. I can still hear his voice. His questions, rapid-fire and as valid a condemnation as I deserved. ‘Why did you promise me safety every time if you knew you might be powerless to help? Did you even know how dangerous it was down there? Was I ever safe? Why did you lie to me? Did you think I wouldn’t help otherwise? Were you afraid I’d say no, because the greater good is greater than my life? Did you not trust me that I already knew that?’ Her silence may as well have been a guilty brand stamped across the Alicorn’s brow. She hadn’t trusted he’d stay. How could she? Of course, she had worried, perhaps not afraid, but concerned that he would refuse, that he didn’t understand what was at stake. Very few mortals did, not without harsh judgement of the Alicorn’s actions. She had underestimated him by leagues and now was paying the price. And a now, a long-familiar look had dawned on Toxic’s face. She had seen it this night and had hoped to never see it again. Rage, hurt, betrayal, and then just bitterness as Celestia’s words had re-opened a wound. Very few creatures dared stand up to her, fewer to openly and honestly insult or pass judgement in the presence of the Solar Empress, especially until recently. Toxic had said one word those many years ago, and Celestia wasn’t sure he even remembered. But she did remember the look in his eyes as the pony had fearlessly stared at her, not a speck of weakness on his figure despite the bandages, slowly-healing gashes and burns. In hindsight, he may not have even uttered it loud enough for anyone to hear; but Celestia could read lips well enough. The single word may as well have been a burning brand on the book of trust that was now closed between them. ‘Coward.’ And he had been right. That incident more than a decade and a half ago had provided Celestia with a shock she hadn’t felt in generations; that even she was not untouchable, unkillable. For the first time in centuries, the Alicorn had been given a situation in which her own mortality was a very real concern. And in that moment, she had to choose; the stability of Equestria and her own life, or breaking a promise and not teleporting to come to the aid of a wounded pony. Not that it mattered to the young stallion who trusted her to keep him safe, a pony who had then been barely old enough to consider asking a mare to his first school dance. Toxic bore the burden of her failure now, of her arrogance to think that her magic and skill could have protected against any threat faced in those underground labs. Like today, her magic had proven useless, and Toxic’s own efforts had saved his life. Even while Toxic may have forgiven Celestia in time, come to understand her reasoning with maturity and logic he had most certainly had not forgotten nor trusted her like he used to. He likely never would. The Specialist had never retracted any of the things he had said and small actions here and there made it very clear Celestia was not his trusted Princess. A respected ruler, yes, but no longer a close friend or even steady ally. His Organization’s heavy concealment spells and airtight, if not borderline paranoid contracts with her nation certainly didn’t assay any of Celestia’s thoughts on the matter. He certainly didn’t trust her with his Organization’s best interests, let alone his own. One of her ponies would likely never trust her again, not with his life, and that hurt, even if it was justified. That was why Luna was his confidant, his friend. She was blunt to a fault, honest even when it may come off as cruel or indifferent. She knew when to explain to the one when their needs were surpassed by the many. Luna had no qualms about letting ponies know she wasn’t perfect, that she had limits. Then again, unlike Celestia, Luna hadn’t kept a mask in place for a millennium and begun to believe that the mask was truth. In one of the many confident moments during her sole, thousand-year rule and lacking her sister’s tact those years ago, Celestia had lied, and her words had subsequently exposed her flaws when her intentions were questioned. As a consequence she lost the implicit trust and loyalty of one of Equestria’s most valuable ponies, and gained a mother who would never forgive the harm that had come to her son nor trust the Crown with her family’s wellbeing ever again. And years later, a Yak would learn the same lesson as he begged for his daughter’s safe return, only to have a certain stallion intervene when the Crown was silent. Toxic had done what Celestia and all her power could not. Ripped aside political pleasantries and saved the fragile and innocent lives in danger when she could not. Would not. It was in her room that Nacreous found Celestia a short time later, the alicorn sobbing into his arms in sorrow. He knew, of course. She had told him everything weeks ago. If anyone could understand her pain, it was him. The Doctor knew, the hippogriff who had lied to the face of a thousand dying creatures that they would be ok, giving them comfort and peace to replace panic. The Emperor could understand making choices to benefit a kingdom instead of the one and the guilt that caused. He knew above all others that sometimes you had to make promises you couldn’t keep. ‘I promise to keep you safe, Toxic Shield, as always.’