//------------------------------// // Chapter I— The Summons // Story: Nightmarish Diplomacy // by Dragonborne Fox //------------------------------// Throughout the entirety of the palace of Nightmaria, one thing was constant as Trypo and Nocti trotted with weapons slung on their backs—the sheer frequency at which Nocti's mouth had moved. "All of the Champions? Are they going to get along just once? How are they going to react to King Cauchemar's summons? Is this going to cause a massive cultural shift which Nightmaria might not recover from? How about economically? What in Tartarus is the summons about this time? And—" And it went on. And on. And on. Telling him to put a sock in it was pointless, Trypo knew with no small amount of annoyance and resignation, even though she had done exactly that… five minutes ago, when the cavalcade of questions had already begun. At this point, citizens and guards alike were giving them both the gimlet eye as they passed, though many faces twisted in sympathy as the more forgiving of the lot caught on to what had gotten Nocti so worked up. "Then again," she mused in the back of her head, looking at Nocti with something akin to pity sparkling in her hidden eyes, "the Champions are most certainly not the easiest of the Nightmarians to work with…" Though remembering she had been entrusted with the delicate task as well, she had little doubt that things would go so swimmingly when they inevitably delivered the news of the summons. She sighed silently through her nostrils, a soft huff that went unnoticed as the pair came onto an empty balcony. Winds smelling of ash and smoke whistled through the air, stirring their manes and—temporarily, at least—bringing Nocti's rambling to a halt. The pair wordlessly gazed out to behold the whole of Nightmaria in all her grim glory; thunderclouds rumbling above, all manner of electrical lights and machines whirring below interspersed with the humming of distant furnaces… Though, gradually, Trypo's seemingly-blinded eyes gravitated to towers in the distance; a sextet of spears that dared reach for the heavens, all attached to veritable fortresses within certain alcoves of the civilization, enclosed by lesser houses sprinkling their parameters. The closest one, however, was not surrounded by houses but fetid waters instead, burning brightly like a beacon and illuminating its spikes in a manner reminiscent of the spears of Tartarus. And, perhaps, the architect of that building wanted it to look that way, she noted as an aside. She took a moment to compose herself, swallowing a shallow lump in her throat to make sure it wouldn't cause any undue issues later. Emotions had to be waylaid in the line of duty, especially for something this delicate. And yet… her thoughts drifted to how the Champions themselves would react to the summons. In a way, she reluctantly came to realize, Nocti had been correct in the assessment that things might turn pear-shaped. For a brief moment, every single swear in the book filtered through her thoughts before returning to the cage in which they were restrained. "So… who gets who?" Nocti asked, frowning slightly. His question went without answer for minutes on end, and he turned to his companion to see what had her tongue. Her lips were pressed tight in thought, though otherwise her face had not shifted in the slightest. Great. Now they were drawing straws, so to speak. Even better. That question almost made Trypo's mental processes cartwheel sideways before she rerouted her thoughts back on track. "Well… Broken Mirror is the closest one…" she trailed off, brow furrowing slightly as she calculated the chances of getting her face punched in before she even opened that particular door. "And Arachno is the most difficult to approach…" Nocti added, looking about ready to sweat bullets any second. "She'd probably make us grovel before we even tried telling her about the summons…" He sucked in a breath before adding, "In despair and desecration… without assuming Anopheli will be present for that…" "And with Agora…" Trypo shuddered, and could not suppress it in time; Nocti had seen it, and began sweating accordingly. "I can only imagine her disappointment when one of us inevitably tells her that, no, we're not there to be her guinea pigs." "For the umpteenth time," Nocti added, a slight wry note in his words that nonetheless betrayed some tiny measure of fear at that prospect. "Nycto would probably have to have one of us grovel at her hooves… and kissing her plot…" another guard said, passing the balcony on which Trypo and Nocti weighed their grim prospects. "Honestly, I'd feel sorry for you two if you didn't suck it up already." By the time the pair turned to look at that Nightmarian, however, they found him to be already gone. Turning to the side of the balcony, they found a stallion flying away with nothing more than the aid of his blazing hooves and a graceful gallop propelling him along, and with distance he almost vanished completely into the smog. Sharing a groan between them, they turned back out towards the whole of Nightmaria and frowned.  "And Redsky Morning would probably try manipulating us into her bed, despite our 'no lovers' oath…" Trypo muttered, grounding out 'no lovers' between tightly clenched teeth sporting meticulously-white fangs. "And then punch us in the face when told about the summons," Nocti added, sucking in a breath. "Then there's Rainy Parade…" For a moment, just a moment, Trypo felt a twang of pity from even uttering the name. With that pity, though, came a sense of despair that she tried her hardest to keep from showing on her face, and the level of success was something only Nocti could judge. But however successful she was, though, kept him silent on the matter. "Only the King and Queen know how she would react…"  "So… who gets who?" Nocti asked, frowning. Trypo took a moment to work out the logistics in her head, before coming to a decision that would hopefully get this over with before the King and Queen grew impatient. "I'll approach Broken Mirror, Redsky Morning, and Rainy Parade," she said in finality, turning back inwards to reenter the castle. She trotted off, her hooves swift and her tune a professional sort of frantic that didn't let any other noise betray whatever else was swimming in her head at that moment. Nocti waited until she was out of earshot before lifting a hoof and hitting himself on his scrunched bridge. "Great, she leaves me with the more difficult, and eccentric of the six…" he hissed, before dropping his hoof and collecting himself. ~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~ As she expected, the moment Trypo had opened an ornate door bearing warped gold and shattered fragments of reflective glass, she found herself having to block a blazing hoof that emerged from the shadows with one of her own. The deadlock established, and the opposing hoof inches from her snout, she wrinkled her brow the tiniest bit as she gazed at a shadowed pony in front of her,  her orange flames clashing with her golden ones as, Trypo could only assume, the other pony's face twisted in a scowl. "Damnit, Trypo! What in Nightmaria do you want now?!" the shadow-concealed mare demanded, leaning as close to Trypo as the locked hooves would allow. Trypo didn't let any other emotion show on her face as she responded with the bluntness of a sledgehammer, "King Cauchemar has sent me to inform you of a summons, Broken Mirror. Go to him now, and he won't flay your hide off and add it to his collection later." Broken Mirror paused, hesitated for a moment, and then wrenched her hoof free of Trypo's before backing off with an audible snort. "Did he say why?" Trypo's expression didn't change, though her raised hoof had lowered after a moment longer. "Negative," she answered. "Did he say where?" Broken Mirror pressed, scowl deepening the tiniest bit. "No. I would assume he would like to see you in the throne room, however," Trypo answered. "I would advise you to prepare." Broken Mirror turned away and batted her hoof at Trypo as though she were swatting away a fly. "Yeah, yeah, I'll trot over his way and see what he wants. You go on and do—" "He wants the other Champions of Nightmaria present, too," Trypo added, cutting off Broken Mirror. She took a few seconds to gauge Broken Mirror's most likely reaction, which probably went from wide-eyed surprise to scowling annoyance within that time frame. The darkness-wreathed Nightmarian turned to the hapless guard who had to deliver the news, and barred glinting white fangs at her—fangs that were chipped in places.  The resulting shout had caused most of the room to shudder as Broken Mirror raised her voice to almost ear-splitting levels, "Wait, so you're saying I have to put up with those piles of rotten coal too?!" All Trypo could do to answer was slowly nod once. "All. Six. Of you," she clarified. She dared not turn around, lest Broken Mirror knock her to the ground with a firm horseshoe to the back of the head. Broken Mirror continued scowling, looking ready to charge down the poor guardsmare any second now. "What, is this some sort of 'order-on-high' manure that we have to follow to the letter?" she growled. Trypo inwardly sighed. "It would seem so," she replied coolly. "And we both know King Cauchemar gets impatient very easily." "Fine! Be that way!" Broken Mirror barked, galloping out of the room and shouldering Trypo aside in her stride. Trypo regained her balance, looked to where Broken Mirror had darted off to, and tried very hard to not wrinkle her snout in that direction. Alas, she was already inwardly grounding her teeth together into dust, but halted when she remembered she had to fetch two more Champions for the King. She allowed herself a tired sigh and started to trot away from the doors of broken glass. The sooner she got this over with, the better things would be for all of Nightmaria. ~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~ Nocti sighed as he flew over Nightmaria, scanning her surface for large congregations of Nightmarians to see if one of his targets was within the writhing masses of busy folk. Few dared even glance up at him as he galloped overhead with practiced grace and ease, passing by many of them who in turn went around him in much the same manner. As he scouted out for his first target, his inner cynic began to rant and rave about how he'd be rather doing something else—anything else—than fetching all six Champions of Nightmaria in the same day. Like, say, marching around the borders of Nightmaria to keep the nastier things out, for instance. At least then, he'd have put up with Trypo and no other Nightmarians besides maybe the King and Queen on those excursions. But nooooooo, something just had to get King Cauchemar's goat and just had to pester him to make summoning the Champions a necessity, apparently. He was grateful for the grueling training he undertook to become Cauchemar's personal guard. Otherwise, it would have been impossible for him to keep his mouth shut and those particularly sordid, scandalous thoughts within his head. He continued looking over the crowds, doing their crowded Nightmarian things, when a distant shout reached his ears. "What do you mean, she's better than me?!" some Nightmarian mare roared a few streets away. Nocti stopped and jerked his head up, glancing about to see where the commotion was the most likely to be coming from. Nocti groaned and shook his head, preparing for the worst of the worst as more shouting answered to the first, albeit barely intelligible. He zeroed in on the noise; it came a few roads down from the east past some larger houses, and his hooves carried him over the houses and smaller businesses to find a market square. A rather stiff crowd had gathered, formed into a circle with the center cleared out as two Nightmarians stared the other down. Nocti shuddered as one lashed her tail irritably. "Well, wise cracker? Care to repeat that?" the irate mare shouted, fangs glinting with each word she spat out. Great, she looked ready to rip someone's throat out any second now. Then Nocti took a closer look and could not help but start swearing in his mind. Well… he found his target, but now she was in a worse mood than he expected. Now he had the luxury of internally debating to himself whether or not to inform said target of the royal summons and see if he would be immediately charred to a blackened crisp for his efforts. Before he could mentally utter his last prayers and delve into what might have been certain death, another Nightmarian stepped forward. Unlike most of her brethren, though, she had a distinctly chilled air about her that oddly matched her snow-white coat. He could not see her eyes too well, but her crimson mane split down its middle with a bald stripe more than made up for it, which only seemed to accentuate the singular violet stripes that streaked therein. The newcomer butted in right between the enraged Nightmarian, and the unlucky sap whose head she had been two seconds from tearing off. She didn't need to shove the second Nightmarian aside; his hooves had scurried the rest of him well out of harm's way. Newcomer and enraged mare locked eyes in a staredown that would have frozen Tartarus over. Then the newcomer spoke in a low, chilling voice that carried itself not only across the street, but all the way to Nocti's ears. "You're too soft, Arachno. And do you know what else?" Arachno scrunched her nose, fangs shining as flames ignited around her hooves. "What is it, another 'I'm better than you' spiel? Any Nightmarian on this side of Nightmaria knows that I'm a Champion and you're not, Anopheli," she hissed, with yet more spittle flying out her mouth as she uttered the words. Anopheli didn't even flinch as some spit landed on her cheeks, nor did she lift a hoof to wipe it aside. Nocti was both impressed but also concerned with this development. He started to wonder who was going to insert their hoof into the grave first. "No, Arachno." Anopheli was calm, composed, and deathly cold with her tone. If she were undead, Nocti guessed that her voice would have been the type to echo in a way as to rattle one's bones within their flesh and steal all warmth from within them. "It's that you always will be too soft for your own good." That made the crowd gasp and recoil collectively, some eyes darting to Arachno as though a once-hidden smudge had just been unearthed upon her soul. Arachno leaned in close, until she and Anopheli were snout to snout. "What was that, you low-ranking ice queen?" she spat. "You always will be too soft for your own good," Anopheli repeated, without even a hint of smugness or aggression in her voice. That made Arachno's burning hooves blaze brighter, and it was then Nocti decided to take the risk with his life. He descended down, landing about a foot away from the pair and lifted one hoof to stomp it on the ground to get their attention. Arachno and Anopheli turned to him in unison, and uttered a joined, "What do you want?" Nocti turned to Arachno, his expression as stoic as he could make it. "King Cauchemar has informed me that he wants all of the Champions of Nightmaria present and accounted for within the palace. Naturally, Arachno, this means you." He turned to Anopheli and continued, "I'm dreadfully sorry to cut your chit-chat with your sister on such short notice, but—" Anopheli waved him off with a hoof, red eyes glinting with the motion. "Don't think much of it. If it's something the King wants, even I and our parents cannot deny him that." She turned to Arachno with a slight smirk on her muzzle. "But do be a good little sister and give him my regards." Arachno turned to Anopheli and huffed, shoving her aside with a burning hoof. "Fine, you big oaf!" she growled, jerking her front legs towards the palace before charging through the crowd. The other Nightmarians cleared a path for her, and all watched as she gained enough speed to become airborne. Then Anopheli turned to Nocti as he turned to leave. "And one more thing," she said, causing him to crane his neck in order to look at her. "If this isn't a matter that could affect all of Nightmaria, send my sister back to me so that our parents can stop riding my saddle about it incessantly for the rest of the month." "And if it is, send her back once she's done with that," Nocti said with a somber nod. As he galloped through a different part of the crowd to take off in another direction, Anopheli smiled. "You got it," Anopheli muttered to herself as Nocti faded into the distance. ~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~ Trypo glanced upwards as she neared a house on the western end of Nightmaria that seemed normal on the surface, noticing that the storm clouds looked to thicken with her approach. Peering through a window earned her a glance into a standard living room; electrical lights overhead, a furnace at the far wall to keep the house nice and warm, various furnatures scattered about, and a hall leading off to some other rooms with its doors shut.  The door at the farthest end, however, had caught her eye: instead of standard black with steel, it was instead hewn of opals with a golden trim. The prismatic sheen gave itself away in the flickering lights of electricity and fire, but seemed to have settled on varying shades of a mopey blue the longer she stared at it. She moved to the door that barred her path and knocked a few times, then lowered her hoof to wait for an answer. At first, nothing happened; the door was content to keep itself closed, and she idled, waiting for someone else to notice and open it. A full five minutes ticked by without answer before she went 'screw it,' lifted a hoof, and wreathed it in golden flames. The embers encased both knobs of the door, and a peculiar feeling took hold as she felt a fragment of herself rooting around to unlatch the lock, if one were present. It was akin to staring at one's body from the other side of a window's glass, with her body wreathed in a white aura that shined through the door she was attempting to lockpick. But, the search turned up negative after a half-hour was spent scrutinizing the anomaly. No electrical locks held the door shut, no latchkeys were there to be turned, not even something as simple as a padlock was there to obstruct her. She dispelled the flames and tried the knob, brow furrowing as it turned with a click and not one iota of resistance. She mentally kicked herself as the door creaked open, but she held her brief bout of self-loathing in when she poked her head in to see if any other Nightmarians were present. "Hello?" she called. She was met with nothing more than the short-lived echo of her own voice as it traversed down the hall and back. Delicately, she stepped inside, closing the door behind her as she turned to the odd door out. Her hoofsteps echoed slightly as she strode to the opal door, pausing only once to open it and look into what lay beyond. Trypo hesitated to trot in, doubting for just a moment if her hooves would stay true to the course. The area beyond this door… it almost looked mournful—she could hear rain and thunder pelting the area, but within lay a surprisingly modest and humble abode. The walls, floor and ceiling were bluish-grey, offset by purplish-grey furnishings and a small furnace. On one side stretched another hall sporting a boarded up window, and the other side a flight of carpeted stairs going up and down. Electrical lights were scattered just enough to allow sight, but not enough of them were in numbers that would make the room glow in any way. The house was warm, but she could feel a chill worm its way into her hocks nonetheless. Unsure if it was just the atmosphere or a fault with the abode, she looked around again. There weren't any blemishes or rot-holes present, and the furniture itself had been arrayed in a way that would grant them some distance from any wall. Whatever the cause, she brushed it off before turning to the furnace again, noticing something that had slipped past her attention at the first and second lookaround. The pony she looked for sat in front of the furnace, her gaze stretching a thousand yards and her eyes as dull and vacant as that of a pony still suffering from a neverending famine. Her head did not twitch, nor did her ears as the door closed behind her guest. For a while, silence held, broken up only by the crackling of fire and the rain and thunder outside. Trypo hesitated, but made herself move and cleared her throat when she reached the sitting space of the sole pony occupant. "Rainy Parade," she started, garnering the pony's attention, "King Cauchemar wishes to see you." Rainy Parade's face did not shift in the slightest, even as crackling fire illuminated her features. She barely seemed to acknowledge the guard before her. "Matters of state?" she guessed in a droll, almost lifeless voice. Trypo paused, lips pursing as she considered what to say. Eventually, she settled for the truth, "He did not deign fit to specify, only that all six Champions of Nightmaria be assembled." Rainy Parade was silent for a moment, the only movement to be had was a few strands of loose mane as a gust battered the house from outside. The boards on the one window she could see rattled inwards, but held tight. "I see…" She almost seemed to be judging Trypo with her thousand-yard gaze, without moving her eyes even an inch away from those of her visor-wearing visitor. "Is that why you thought it alright to enter my pocket dimension?" Trypo nodded. "If he had sent any other summons, would you have answered?" Rainy Parade sighed, and rose to stand. Her mane clung to her neck, and her tail almost seemed to be weeping, as though it had been soaked by the rain. "All of the other Champions… you know, it'd almost make me laugh if I was still capable of such an act," she said, turning to the door that led out of the house. "Go," she ordered. "I will be with the King very shortly." Trypo could do nothing but obey, and turned to the door that she had initially entered from. She galloped back the way she came, shivering as she could feel Rainy Parade's gaze following her out. She chanced a glance to the first unboarded window she could see as the door opened to let her through, and she noticed that outside the house she found the door in, the clouds only thickened to bring forth more of their cold, wet vitriol at a later time. She left the house with swift hooves, taking off to the air the first chance she got. With a sigh, she shook her doubts away as she made to pursue her next target. ~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~ Nocti looked onwards at the veritably large, almost castle-like mansion down below, walled off by an ornate gate and attended to by guards and gardeners alike. He looked down as he circled over the yard to which the mansion was attached, trying to find the quickest way both in and out for his own convenience and to get this over with faster. Of course, with its own guards stationed here and there, some in armor and some in unassuming maid and butler uniforms that he could see passing via some windows and across the lawn, he had to remind himself that landing wasn't so easy a task. The likelihood of being metaphorically probed with peeled ginger made his skin crawl and his fur bristle, and for a moment even his flames wavered. But dallying simply wasn't an option. Who knew how impatient King Cauchemar was already. So he settled for simply descending for the frontmost door, which had two guards stationed on either side of it. At his approach, they stepped forward to intercept, only to halt when they saw who it was. "Oh great, the King's personal lackey," one of the pair muttered under his breath. "Yeah, the one that's more robot than Nightmarian… wonder what he wants now," the other hissed, his lowered voice drowned out by the sound of blazing hooves hitting the pavement. He turned to Nocti and straightened his pose, looking as officialese as he could with his armor. "What matters have brought you here?" Nocti straightened his posture as well, taking a moment to look the second guard in the eye. "King Cauchemar has sent out summons for all six Champions of Nightmaria," he said bluntly. "I'm here to inform Nycto of this directly." The pair paled in unison. "A-all six?" the first stammered, his eyes widening. Nocti nodded. "All six," he confirmed. "The less delay, the better." The pair lifted their hooves and wreathed them in flames that then seized the door they guarded. The door flew open, and with twin nods, allowed Nocti to gallop inside. A lengthy hall greeted him, ornately decorated with plush carpets and a few metallic chandeliers for that posh effect that he would have expected in a standard noble's home. Without pausing to admire the scenery, though, he simply ran down the hall to a door-like opening at its end, making sure to not catch his hooves on fire as he traversed. The hall led to a grand foyer, with stairs arcing up to a door on a platform ahead. On either side stood more doors, themselves flanked by golden statues and guards flanking said statues. More carpet spread out, and a crystal chandelier beset with onyxes and opals hung above for an absolutely dazzling effect. Nocti looked to the guards at his right, and they looked at him. It was then another Nightmarian, in a red dress that puffed at the shoulders and ended at the gaskins came trotting down the stairs with a sickly smile on her pale face. Her eye shadow only added the appearance of black eyes, and a dark green-and-blue striped mane bounced merrily as she approached Nocti. "I'm sorry, but I have already informed Nycto of recent happenings." With that, she trotted around him and departed without another word. Nocti sighed and gathered his wits before he called out, "Is the mistress of this mansion—" "No need for formalities, you worthless suck-up," snapped a cold, haughty voice as the sound of muffled hoofsteps flooded the room. Nocti looked up at the stairs leading to the door again, and trotting out was none other than his target—the sight of which caused him to want to pull his mane out with his hooves. "Especially since my top spy, Flashforce Focus, has already beat you to the punch." Oh. Well, that simplified things. "Then do I need to depart?" Nocti asked rhetorically. "No." His target trotted down the stairs, and made a beeline right for him. "Because I want to know… why does the King want all six of us?" A venom rested in her glinting eyes, shining as she scanned Nocti up and down with the upturned snout and haughty huff that could only belong to someone who was so self-important they wondered why the world didn't revolve around them yet. "He didn't say," Nocti said truthfully. He supposed there were some matters that not even he was fit to take care of. His target smiled maliciously. "Oh? You didn't grovel to him enough?" she hissed. Nocti shook his head. "I didn't see the need to." "And why? Don't you want it all?" she asked. Nocti once more shook his head. "No, not even as much as you, Nycto." Nycto huffed, and her sinister smile had fallen. "Shame you're not such a goody four-shoes. You could do so much more, have so much more, if you kissed the King's horseshoes more often…" she muttered. "I'm sure that he wouldn't appreciate that much brownnosing," Nocti said flatly. A few of the guards on either side snickered at that comment, but when Nycto turned to them, they immediately resumed their stoic facade. The Nightmarian he sought, though, didn't quiet any of her giggles however. "Besides, I've seen the last Nightmarian that tried to brownnose the King, and let's just say there's not much of him left." Nycto turned to Nocti, rolled her eyes, and clicked her tongue. "Regardless… it will all be mine, someday," she said, turning to the hall beyond Nocti. "Whatever you say," Nocti muttered, sighing as Nycto went shouldering past him and trotting down the hallway leading outside. As he turned, though, he could have sworn he felt another pair of eyes on him, and glanced around to see if anyone else was in the foyer. Nope. It was just him, and the guards already present. Yet he had this strange feeling that someone else had been watching him. Then again, Nycto had eyes everywhere—this was something he could brush off with that knowledge. Nocti would have rolled his eyes, but that would have required that Nycto stay long enough to see it after he removed his visor. As it was, he shared glances with the present guards, who nodded to him and lifted their hooves to swat at his general direction. He turned to the hall he came in from and trotted down it, not out of a desire to slack off, but to give Nycto a bit of breathing room for her takeoff. The door parted open with waves of fire, and Nycto halted to address the guards at the entrance. Nocti hung back just far enough to not catch her attention, but close enough to gather what she had said. "Keep an eye on things here while I see what the King wants now. It had better be important, or I'm frying his lackey," Nycto said. With that, she galloped away, and with hooves ablazing, took to the skies to cut a clean path to the castle as her flight path carried her over the gate. But then she halted, careened back, and entered the mansion through one of its windows. Nocti trotted out once she was gone, and looked to the guards. "She's been in that mood all day, hasn't she?" The guard to his left sighed and nodded. "Yeah. She's been crotchety these last few days. You're lucky you came in after the worst passed," he said. Nocti sighed and took off without another word. Out that same window, Nycto watched as Nocti galloped off. At her side was a purple filly with a brown-and-gold mane sporting a bow. "What was that all about?" the filly asked, looking up at Nycto. Nycto sighed. "Just some summons from the King," she answered. "Did you let him see you?" "I didn't," the filly replied. This earned her a pat on the head from Nycto. "Good. He would have asked too many questions otherwise, Sour Note." "Yeah, and then Cauchemar would have asked more of them." The two shared a laugh, and Nycto sighed once her gale of laughter passed. "Remember the usual rules. I'll have to go and see the King now." With that, Nycto opened the window, lept, and flew off towards the palace. Sour Note lifted a hoof and let flames engulf it, using them to pull the window back shut where it belonged. After that, she closed the curtains and sat. "I still wonder what the King wants, though," Sour Note mumbled to herself. ~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~ Trypo came upon another seemingly ordinary house, this one standing out in that it was a dark crimson as opposed to the sable the rest of Nightmaria had favored. She glanced through a window, and besides favoring reds, golds and blues for furniture, it didn't look that off or interesting. Instead of knocking on the door, she idled, ears perked as she heard some shuffling from within. All it took was five minutes, and then a door that she couldn't see at the window's angle opened. Out strode out a Nightmarian stallion, wearing a dopey smile on his face with… well, she lifted a hoof to block her view of everything below his shoulders. After he had a chance to get decent again, and it was safe to lower her hoof, the stallion turned to the door leading out and trotted in that direction. Trypo ignored him as he made his exit, and because he was still in a state of bliss, he in turn ignored her as he dawdled off to do something else. Then she took the chance to enter that same door, as the stallion had left it swaying wide open. Her nose wrinkled at a distinct scent wafting from further ahead; she groaned, having had the bad luck to catch her next target at the worst possible time. Now she'd have to wait for said target to get cleaned up and decent as well, and she lifted a hoof to block out most of the offending smell from her nostrils. At least the rest of the house didn't smell like the scent glands of a dead rabbit about to be cooked. If there was one thing she couldn't fault her target for, it was just how clean she kept this particular abode. Glancing about, she noticed how spotless and orderly everything was, and with her eyes averted she didn't notice that the gamey scent was receding ever so slowly. After a few minutes, hoofsteps hit the floor, and Trypo turned to the second open door again. And there she was, freshly cleaned and looking rather tempting for a Nightmarian. But she did not let herself be fooled, especially when the face of her target fell. "Okay, what is it? This better be as good as that stallion I just got done with, y'know." "A matter of summons, Redsky Morning. King Cauchemar wishes to see you," Trypo answered, assessing the changing expression of the mare before her. Redsky Morning wore a blank face at first, before assuming a slight smirk. "What, for the glory of Nightmaria?" she asked in a joking manner. "Come on, Trypo, tell me that one of these days, y'know?" Trypo did not rise to the bait. She instead sighed through her nostrils. "While it is admirable of you to… clean up after seducing someone," she said carefully, "I don't quite think it is for the glory of Nightmaria." Redsky's smirk faded. "Then… what is it?" She paused. "Is it a matter of state, y'know?" "He did not see fit to inform me of his reasoning," Trypo answered patiently. "If he had, I would have mentioned it by now." "Then what? Do we have to kick flank outside the borders, y'know?" Redsky asked, sounding a bit hopeful at that one. "Certainly not that," Trypo replied, expression unwavering. "Tackle and kill a ferocious monster for food?" Redsky grinned briefly. "I'd kill for a good chimera, y'know?" "If he had said that, I would not be here." "Have me announce a new law about what might change—something that might rearrange Nightmaria for a bit, y'know?" There was a pause, and Redsky's smirk fell again. "Hopefully it deals with those jackflanks with their snouts up their tails; I'd love that, y'know." "Once again, no." Another pause. "Certainly not the ponies you're expecting, either." "Then what?!" Redsky Morning huffed, irritation flashing in her narrowed eyes. "Well… he wanted all six Champions assembled before him, simultaneously," Trypo answered with as neutral a tone as she could manage. One could have heard a pin drop in that moment. Redsky seemed to have heard it; her ears twitched, followed by one corner of her lip and one of her eyes. "So… I have to endure heck with those other clowns again this year?" She groaned, "It's bad enough I have to deal with certain factions of Nightmaria already, y'know." "It would seem so," Trypo replied, expecting another punch to the face and mentally preparing herself to block if need be. "For how long or why, I sincerely wish I knew before approaching you about this." She understood the second complaint, but in the end orders were orders. Redsky Morning's eye twitched faster. "He didn't tell you?" "Negative." "Not one bucking peep. That's fishy, y'know." That one was met with a grim shake of the head, and then a nod following its second half. "But regardless… you will have to put up with them. I'd suggest heading in the direction of the palace to get it over with faster." Redsky's look of annoyance melted, though a shade of that emotion still clung to her features. "There's no getting around it, is there?" "If there was, I'd have been sent to the nearest noose already," Trypo confirmed. "Or possibly a lethal virus from Agora. Do you want me to talk to you on the way there?" Redsky Morning sighed and shook her head. "No. I'm good, y'know," she said, trotting around her guest, only to pause at the still-open door. "... he didn't close it, did he." Trypo did not budge from her spot. "Not even an attempt was made. I should have closed the door, but I am a bit… pressed for time." Redsky nodded. "I getcha," she said, trotting out but not quite taking off yet. "Just close it when you leave, y'know?" "I understand," Trypo responded. She waited until Redsky Morning had departed before leaving herself, taking the time to close the door and making sure it was locked up nicely. She turned to the storm above, hearing its rumble in her ears and feeling the lingering vibrations in her hooves. Then she looked ahead and saw the receding form of Redsky Morning dwindling with distance. It was time to leave, but first… she would have to find a way to send word to her companion, even though he could have been easily on the other side of Nightmaria now. Thus, she stood on her hinds and used her front hooves to launch a ball of fire into the sky, high enough above Nightmaria that she hoped he would see it. As it exploded into a shower of golden sparks in the shape of a horseshoe, it popped and sizzled as the first raindrops started to fall. And with the arrival of the rain came the fiery gallop that would take her skyward, to the castle. As quick as her hooves could carry her, she flew—but even this could not stop the gradual pelting of the storm as it hammered its presence across the nation. Oh well, there'd be time to dry off back at the guard barracks later. ~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~ As he neared his destination, the rain began to hit hard. Nocti shivered as he reached a large house that had a few too many chimneys and smokestacks to look reasonably feasible, as well as a large observatory-like dome behind those chimneys and smokestacks. He wasn't the least bit surprised to see Trypo's flare before he could send one out in kind. She always had a knack for being ruthlessly on task, but he wondered what kind of Tartarus she had to endure just to track down two of her targets.  Setting his own reservations aside, he knocked on the door, and was greeted by a robot in the vague shape of a Nightmarian when the door opened a minute and a half later. The robot looked bored and disinterested, but it was hard to tell that well when its face only consisted of a black screen with a few flickering lights. "Yes?" it asked in a tinny voice that barely sounded Nightmarian. "I wish to see Agora. It's important," Nocti answered. The robot imitated a sigh. "Well, she's busy right now." "She's always busy. But this matter is pressing—" Nocti began. The robot cut him off with a wave of a mechanical hoof, "Nonsense, unless the King—" "It is the King!" Nocti replied, starting to shake from both leaking irritation and the rain. "He has summoned her, and we'd rather him not raze this building from being kept waiting." The robot's expression didn't shift even at Nocti's minor outburst. In fact, Nocti got the feeling it couldn't really grasp the concept expressions. "You are aware that Agora will not take this lightly?" it asked. "Very," Nocti answered. The robot nodded and stepped aside to let Nocti inside. "She's in her usual spot," it said, leaving the rest to the visitor. Nocti strode in, finding collections of beakers and surgical equipment and even some mechanical parts strewn rather orderly here and there, branching off into a stairwell on one side and a sidehall on the other. He trotted up the stairwell, being careful to not disturb bits of furniture no matter how oddly it was placed. He found another hall, its end leading to a large round room with wires crisscrossing across the floor and hooked up to a myriad of devices he couldn't hope to name. Tables were strewn about with various tools cluttered atop them in something that could only be called orderly chaos. And within the center, tinkering with something was his target. He trotted up to her, slowly to avoid tripping over the wires and to avoid disturbing her work. It was better to appear before her standing, than to trip and land in a prone position—especially if she was tinkering with tools. Coming closer, he could see what his target was working on: one of her own legs, using a screwdriver to tinker with that leg with conjured flames that didn't glow in the usual Nightmarian reds and golds. She seemed transfixed, lips pursed and eyes unmoving from her leg; the look seemed to suggest there was a smudge on it she wanted to be rid of. He watched, and she worked. Eventually, though, the blazing, levitating screwdriver clattered onto the table and her leg retracted off of it, sending it rolling to the side where it hit a collection of loose nuts and bolts. Without making eye contact, his target asked, "What is it?" "King Cauchemar wishes to see you, Agora. It's… a matter that even my ears aren't fit to hear, I'm afraid," Nocti said. That made Agora turn to him, her expression still concentrated as though she was deciding what tendon to slice into. "How are your ears not fit to hear it?" she asked. "All six Champions of Nightmaria are to be assembled before him. And when he gave the command… he looked as though someone or something had wronged him," Nocti answered. Agora snorted. Gears span in her head. "So… sentients could die." Nocti nodded. The thought dug pits into his stomach—several of them, crawling about, each one voicing a myriad of concerns that he forced himself to set aside for the time being. "How or why… or if they'll perish, I cannot say," he said carefully. "And I might have a few I can dissect…" Agora continued, her brow starting to furrow the tiniest bit. "Might," Nocti proffered. That made Agora turn away from the workbench she had been perusing before. "But I have to put up with the other Champions…" she grumbled. "And you don't know why." "I have not been so much as briefed; just that all six be summoned," Nocti replied, frowning slightly. "Dealing with them… won't be the least bit fascinating…" Agora mumbled, trotting out of the room. Nocti followed her, keeping his distance as they weaved past the furniture to head outside. His ears perked at another rumble of thunder, twitching as the rain began to pelt down with even more force. On the way out, Agora turned to the robot and said, "Make sure everything is functional while I am away." The robot nodded, and saw the two out the door. Agora took off once out the door, galloping and seemingly unconcerned about the rain as it pelted her and did its best to smother her flames. Nocti gave the house a bit of space, reared on his hinds, and sent a flare into the sky that was dimmed by the weather, but nonetheless managed to remain visible for miles around for the span of a few seconds after exploding. Then he took off, heading to the palace. His mane clung to his neck and visor, and he idly wondered why Agora hadn't even brought up dissecting him this time. He shook the thought aside; perhaps being informed of the summons waylaid that question in her own head before she had the chance to ask it. But whatever her reasons were, he knew not and cared not to learn—that was his end of the task done, and that meant he could hear about those fireworks at a later time. Maybe he could exchange stories with Trypo in the barracks later tonight, and see which of them was more frustrated by their chosen targets. He did decide to avoid rubbing it in her face that Agora was the easiest he had to deal with, in terms of getting her to not fight him on the matter. … eh, that could come after he washed off for the day. The rain was getting colder, and the showers were already tempting him.