The doors to the Throne Room antechamber are guarded by two of the Lunar Sentinels when I approached, both of them bowed respectfully before giving me the same scan that I received earlier in the day.
The two of them clear me and opened the door, allowing me to enter the antechamber.
“Evening Feather,” High Marshal Evening Song greeted with a cocky salute of her wing. “How are you this fine night?”
“I’ve been better,” I replied, giving her a wave with my own wing, a behavior that I picked up from the High Marshal and the other thestrals among the Lunar Sentinels. “And I’ve been worse. Anything on the docket that I should be concerned with?”
“It's Friday, Feather,” the mare deadpanned. “There’s never anything on Fridays.”
“True, true.” I replied with a shrug and a half smile.
“Then why are you even here?”
“I don’t follow.” I said, cocking my head to one side.
“Nothing happens on Fridays, Feather.”
“Yes, and?”
“There are no petitioners to the Night Court this evening, no revisions to Tax Law, nor anything else. There’s nothing for you to do.”
“Ah,” I replied, giving Evening Song what I hope came across as a wry grin. “I see what you’re getting at now.”
None of the other ponies say anything as Evening Song let my statement hang between us in silence.
The High Marshal is a spunky, self-assured, and boisterous thing with a razor sharp wit and even sharper tongue. I’d put her at about the same height, at the shoulders, as my mid barrel with her head and mane just able to be seen over my shoulders. Her coat is a uniform amethyst purple with silver and teal mane. As the High Marshal, her armor did not mask her natural coloring like the armor of the rest of Luna's guard regiment.
“You’re still going to go in there aren’t you?” She sighed, putting a hoof to her forehead.
“Of course I am. It is my duty and honor.”
“And there’s nothing that we can say or do to stop you?”
“Not unless you plan on breaking my legs and wings, no.”
“Hmm…” Evening Song hummed and looked at me for a long moment, rubbing her chin with one hoof. “There’s an idea.”
I rolled my eyes, another old argument that this mare and I have been having for a long time, at least she’s funnier than Windsor.
Sure, I tower over her and the rest of her cadre of Lunar Sentinel thestrals but she’s got the combat experience and knowledge. After all, Evening Song is the High Marshal and I’m just Luna’s over glorified secretary. She outranks me by so many orders of magnitude that I could get a nosebleed from thinking about it too hard, she could just order me back to my rooms.
But she won’t.
I rolled my eyes at her, again, and made my way over to the inner doors, preparing to shoulder them open when she stoped me by pulling on my tail.
“You’re not going in there looking like that.” Evening Song snapped, her mouth full of my tail.
“Are you going to break me this time?” I asked, looking back at her and cocking one eyebrow.
“No you foal!” She shouted, spitting my tail out of her mouth in the process and looking somewhat embarrassed. “Just - ugh. Just come here.”
“Okay?” I trot over to her and sat on my haunches in front of her.
She didn't say anything, just reached up with her two forelegs and readjusts the torc around my neck so that the Crest is directly in the middle of the shining silver metal. From there, she made me stand and brushed her wings over the velvet sash so that the midnight blue and black material’s pile is all lying in the same direction.
Both adornments were gifts from Luna when she appointed me as her advisor. The sash, she claimed, was woven by her own magic millennia ago, during the First Age of Unity. The Torc was crafted out of shimmering silver metal strands, braided and plaited until it formed a large circle to go around my neck, almost like a collar but much larger. From the center, hung a medallion, made of the same metal, the image of the Lunar Crest carefully chased and repousséd into its face.
Evening Song stepped back and looks over me one more time before nodding.
“Thank you,” I said dryly. “Am I free to enter the Throne Room now?”
“Fine, fine,” she sighed, rolling her eyes as the rest of her cadre snicker into their wings. “I won’t help you look your best for the Princess ever again.”
“As if Windsor doesn’t do that already.”
“Oh! Remind me to thank him for your new shampoo.”
I pretended to not hear that nor the guffawing that followed me into the Throne Room and I certainly wasn’t blushing.
/＼ ^._.^ ／\
I climbed the steps onto the large center dais and took my place to the right of the central throne. From what I’d been told by Evening Song and Morning Glory, Praetorian General of the Solar Guard, in times of peace and harmony, both thrones would be perched upon the center dais rather than swapping one out for the other.
The Fall of Harmony had forced a state of semi-martial law throughout the Kingdom of Equestria and when, through unknown means, Celestia had finally returned to her Palace, she had approved of those decisions. She’d gone so far as to call the reserve guard forces to muster, arm, and deploy to the border garrisons.
I was broken out of my musings as the doors to the Antechamber opened and Luna pranced in, freshly bathed and groomed, the scent of lilac and vanilla accompanying her arrival. Her regalia was polished to a mirror shine, catching each flicker of the torches and magical lights along the walls and the crescent moon-shaped opal set in the center of her peytral glimmered with its own inner light. As was the custom, she was flanked by two Praetorian guards from the Solar Praetorians with two of her own Lunar Sentinels to her front right and left; at her shoulder was High Marshal Evening Song.
I rose to my hooves and formally bow to her, appearances have to be maintained. At this moment, she is a Princess of Equestria and I am her advisor and secretary. She nodded in my direction and bade the two Praetorians a good night.
The two Lunar Guards took their place at the foot of the dais, one either side of the plush scarlet and gold runner that led from the main doors all the way to the throne.
“By the will of Her Majesty, Princess Luna, Lady of the Night and Guardian of Dreams,” exclaimed Evening Song, her voice reverberating around the Throne Room. “We declare this Court of the Night open to any and all who wish to petition the crown.”
She then slammed one of her silver shod hooves down and the main doors swung open, revealing an empty Petitioner’s Hall.
Formalities over and done with, Luna flung herself onto the throne, lounging lazily, taking a large bite out of a peach, and rested one of her hooves atop my head.
“Must you?” I sighed, slouching so that her hoof slides off of my head and onto my withers.
The Princess nickered at me through a mouthful of fruit and replaced her hoof on my head.
We continued this stupid dance for several more minutes before the laughing of the two Sentinels made us stop; playing around in private is one thing, playing around in public, especially during court, was another.
“How was work?” The Princess asked after arranging herself in a more presentable sitting position.
“Hot, dusty, and exhausting.”
She nodded before leaning on the throne towards me, her short, lapis colored mane falling in front of her eyes.
“You didn’t need to come tonight, you know that right?”
“I have never missed a Night Court in the last five years,” I snorted back at her. “And I don’t plan on missing any either. Princess Celestia would have my wings for her mantle if I weren’t here when you needed me.”
“How many times have I needed you here?” she asked after snorting derisively at the formal mention of her sister.
“There was that time when your sister was having trouble raising the moon with you and you were about to cry.”
“That was four weeks after we got back!”
“Or that time some petitioners thought you were Nightmare Moon again and I had to talk you down from atomizing them.”
“It wasn’t a good day.”
“What about the Noodle Incident?”
“We agreed never to speak of that again!”
I couldn’t help it, I started laughing and, after a few moments of a fierce blush, crossed forelegs, and an adorable pout, Luna joined me.
“You’re forgetting one.” she said after getting her merriment under control.
“Oh, which?” I jokingly replied, still grinning at her. “I’m sure that I can keep going.”
“I’m sure you can, but you forget that social worker -” She then says two words that aren’t possible to understand, sending ripples of something bouncing off the walls. Human names, apparently, do not mesh well with the fabric of Harmonious Reality on Equus. It was the reason that I had abandoned my old name.
Every pony in the Throne Room, even Luna herself, recoiled and flattened their ears against their skulls.
“Can you really not do that?”
“My apologies Feather, guards, ‘twon’t happen again.”
The rest of the Night Court passed in relative quiet and peace. It was, as expected, an empty night. Few petitioners came to Day Court on Fridays and it was the exception rather than the rule when anypony came to Friday’s Night Court.
High Marshal Evening Song returned to the Throne Room at around four in the morning and formally closed the court for the week.
The five of us, the Princess, Evening Song, the two Lunar Sentinels, and myself then retreated into the antechamber.
/＼ ^._.^ ／\
“High Marshal,” I called out before she could leave the antechamber with the Princess. “A moment of your time please.”
She stopped and cocked one eyebrow at me before dismissing her cadre to escort the Princess to her Dream Alcove.
“What’s up big guy?”
“I, uh, have been informed,” I started, not really knowing how to word this request. “By one of the stables’ arming grooms that I need to fly more. Something about my wings and flight muscles. He said that-”
“Show me.” She interrupted after watching me for a long moment, processing, as I bumble my way through and not asking the question that I need to ask.
“Show you?” I asked, tilting my head to one side. “Show you what?”
“Your wings foal,” She snorted, walking around me in a quick circle. “Spread ‘em, let me see your wingspan. Full extension and hold it until I say stop.”
I rolled my shoulders and extended my wings as far as I was able and hold them there.
“Higher!” She snapped.
I raised my head, dug deep, force my wings past what I thought was their fullest.
Have you ever done that exercise where you hold two weights, one in each hand, raise your arms out to either side of your body in a t-pose, and then hold it until you can’t do it anymore? Think that, only with two limbs that you’ve never had before.
It didn't take long before my wings were trembling and I’ve squeezed my eyes shut, trying with every fiber of my being to keep them up. I could feel Evening Song poking at the base of my wings muttering and I couldn't tell what she’s saying, everything that I have is hyper-focused on my wings..
I don’t know how long I held them up, it felt like hours.
“Feather,” Her voice broke through my concentration, there’s a hoof on my right wing, gently pressing it down. “You can let them down now Feather, relax, breathe.”
With a gust of a sigh, my wings dropped, I couldn't feel my flight muscles enough to pull them back up to my sides.
“Moon and stars above, Feather, you should have told me you were in that much pain.”
“You said *pant* to keep them up. *wheeze* I kept them *gulp* up.”
She gave me a look that I can’t quite place, I didn't notice her moving in front of me, before shaking her head and trotted back to my side, being careful to avoid stepping on the burgundy and wine drapes that were my wings.
“Lay down.”
“Uh?”
“Lay down. You’re going to cramp something awful if I don’t do something.”
I didn’t need any more encouragement than that and slumped to the floor, I was barely standing as it was.
“This is going to be awkward.” I heard her mutter.
I didn't get a chance to question that statement when, after a pump of her wings, she landed on my back, straddling me.
“You say one word about this,” she snarled into my ear. “To anypony, and no pony will find your body.”
Sporting a furious blush, I pantomimed zipping my lips shut and continued staring straight ahead.
With a nicker, she gently placed her hooves on the joints where my wings meet my back and began to apply pressure in small, circular movements.
“He was right,” she said after several minutes of rubbing my right wing socket. “You do need to fly more, I’ve never seen flight muscles this week.”
“It would help if I knew how to.” I grumbled at her.
She stopped rubbing and I could feel her eyes boring into the back of my skull.
“Come again?”
“I don’t know how to fly.” I said again, louder, trying in vain to not let my shame color my words. I had lied to Thunder Cloud when I said 'remind' me how to fly, I couldn't. Never had gotten the hang of it as a thestral.
“That can’t be right, I’ve seen you fly.”
“You’ve seen me glide.”
“How do you not know how to fly?” She continued as if she hadn’t heard me. “By the stars, you're a thestral for crying out loud, your paren- oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“I’m sorry Feather, I forgot.”
“Happens all the time Song, I’m used to it.”
I could tell that she wanted to say something else, probably to apologize, but didn't, she just moved onto rubbing my left flight muscle group.
“Try and fold your wings back up.”
With a lot less effort than I anticipated, I was able to pull my wings back up against my barrel. She gave the muscles a few last push-knead motions before sliding off of my back.
“Feel better?”
“Like you have no idea, thank you.”
I got to my hooves with her watching, head tilted to one side, her keen, amber eyes taking in every movement that I made.
“Do you want to learn?”
“Can I assume that you mean ‘learn how to fly’?”
She gave me a look that spoke volumes.
“Yes, I would very much appreciate it.”
“Good. We’ll start tomorrow night.”
“We?”
“Yes we.” She said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to have a pegasus try and teach a thestral how to fly, not on my watch.”
“Don’t you have better things to do besides teaching an overgrown bat how to fly?”
“We’re not bats.” She snarled. “And don’t call yourself one either. It's derogatory and vile.”
“Oh, sorr-”
“Just say ‘thank you ma’am’ and shut up.”
“Thank you ma’am.” My teeth clicked audibly on the clipped response, the High Marshal watchd me for another few moments before nodding.
“You’re welcome,” she finally said after another long moment. “Do you think that you can make it back to your rooms or should I have someone escort you?”
“I’m a gown stallion Song, I don’t need an escort.” I huffed at her. “And I’m not going back to my rooms. Not yet anyways.”
“You’re not?”
“No, tomorrow’s Saturday. Princess Celestia likes to have breakfast with her sister on the weekends, and expects a weekly report of the Night Court from me first thing, during breakfast is her preferred time.”
“Ah.”
“And that doesn’t even count out all of the other work that I’m behind on with recent history and trying to help with rebuilding.”
“You really should beg off tomorrow, your wings will be Tartarus in a few hours, the Princesses will understand.”
“The work’s gotta be done, Song,” I answered with a shake of my head. “It’s my job.”
“Fine,” she grunted after opening the door leading out into the hallway. “Where to then? I’ll walk you.”
“I just told you that I didn’t need an escort.”
“I’m not escorting you anywhere, I’m just walking with a friend.”
I should have protested more, but I didn't have it in me at that moment.
“The archives, Windsor will have already arranged for coffee and a bagel or three if you’d like some.”
“Nah, I’m still on duty, ‘preciate the offer though.”
/＼ ^._.^ ／\
Evening Song hung out with me in the archives for a few hours, correcting my abysmal Equuish and generally making fun of the scrawl that constituted my writing. At around six or seven, she bade me good morning and left to complete paperwork of her own.
The rebuilding process had been slow and arduous. There were so many ponies and other beings that were too injured to work or just simply missing. Hospitals were full past capacity, even with extra beds lining the halls. Thaumatological scientists and researchers have been investigating the Chaos magic tears and storms that plague the entire kingdom. They theorized that there could be entire families trapped within but have yet to ascertain a method to dispel or heal the rifts.
I reviewed and collated the various status update memos that Hard Hat and Plumb Line have sent to the crown, marking careful notes on a rapidly filling sheet of parchment
From the rebuilding notes and projections, I moved to the weekly records of the Night Court. Comparing this week’s totals with last week’s and last year’s numbers; everything broken down into three main tribes and a miscellaneous category. Any citizen, general resident, or visitor to Equestria has the right to petition the crown.
There are other, minor reports, from mayors and governors, most notable being the one from Ponyville. According to Mayor Mare, Everfree forest is attempting to encroach upon the town proper, again. I quickly penned a letter to Praetorian General Morning Glory, requesting a small detachment of unicorn and pegasi to make their way and assist with driving the forest back to its defined lands.
The reports from our garrisons along the borders are some of the last reports that I needed to review. There were reports of yak and minotaur scouts approaching but neither race had opened lines of communication nor did they seem to be inclined to do so. According to the reports, the scouts only appeared lightly armed and hadn't come close enough to our borders to be considered a threat.
Thank goodness for small mercies.
Equestria, while still strong and resolute, would be hard pressed to fend off an invasion from any empire or kingdom. We would be more than able to outlast any kind of siege laid upon us, but thousands upon thousands of ponies would be injured, killed, or worse.
/＼ ^._.^ ／\
“Good morning, sir,” greeted Windsor as he approved my table, a cup of coffee floating towards me.
“I love you,” I moaned, taking the warm mug from his magic and swallowing a gulp, the burn of the hot drink helping me wake up just a little. “Remind me to put you in for a raise.”
“Long night?”
“Ehh, just a lot of reports that I needed to catch up on. Did you know that ponies actually do work during the day?”
Windsor gave me a deadpan stare and I chuckled at him.
“What time is it anyways?”
“Just past eight in the morning, sir, you’re due in the Family Dining Room in twenty minutes.”
“Wonderful, thank you Windsor.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
I lost myself in my coffee and the last page of the report in front of me, it was from the northern borders and the Saddle Arabian Sultanate. Ever since the return of Princess Luna, Equestria’s relationship with them had been tense, as far as I could ascertain from our ambassador that had been ousted a few months back, they were convinced that The Fall was a plot by a reemergent Nightmare Moon.
Luna had cried for hours upon hearing that.
The tinkling chime of Windsor’s magic and the feeling of a stiff brush running over my scalp almost made me drop the mug.
“Woah,” I whinnied, jumping out of my seat and away from the offending brush. “What the hell Windsor? You know I don’t like ponies touching my head.”
“Yes, sir, I’m well aware.”
“Then why are brushing my mane?”
“You’re going to meet with Princess Celestia this morning.”
“Yes? And? I meet with her every Saturday, you’ve never brushed my mane on Saturdays before.”
“Sir,” My butler sighed, and floated a mirror out of his suit jacket’s pocket. “Take a look at yourself.”
I snatched the mirror out of his magic and glare at it before taking stock of my appearance.
I’d certainly looked better.
There were bags under my eyes, giving testimony to the lack of sleep I had gotten yesterday, thanks to Luna. The fur on my face and muzzle had lost its luster and there are small sweat-salt crystals clinging to my cheekbones.
My mane would have been better described as a bird's nest. How it got that bad without any real physical exertion was beyond me.
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh, sir.”
I grimace and passed the mirror back to my butler, who, after taking the mirror, floated the brush back over to me.
The sensation of the bristles running through my mane and scraping my scalp are not pleasant.
/＼ ^._.^ ／\
Princess Celestia was already seated at the table when I enter, quietly sipping from a dainty porcelain cup of tea, her eyes unfocused.
“Good morning your Highness,” I said softly, walking forward and nodding to the two Solar Praetorians at the door on the opposite side of the room.
“Good morning Feather Stroke,” The Princess replied, not looking up from her cup of tea.
“Did you sleep well?” I asked, giving her a small bow before taking a seat to the left of Luna’s usual one.
“Well enough Feather Stroke, well enough.”
The Princess of the Sun and I had a strange detente, she, even after six years of loyal service to her sister, still views me as other; I was not one of her ponies.
That realization had hurt.
The two of us sat together for a few awkward and silent minutes before Luna dragged herself in, flopped herself into her seat next to her sister, to my right, and used her magic to quickly fill a bowl with diced fruit.
“Good morning dear sister,” greeted Celestia as she looks up from her tea with a smile.
Luna grunted her reply as she spooned a hunk of melon into her mouth.
“Such a morning birdy, aren’t you Lulu?” Celestia snarked at her sister, taking a muffin from one of the platters in front of her and biting into it.
I refused to flinch as her magenta eyes found my own and lost all good humor.
“Report.” Celestia ordered, her voice cold and commanding.
“The Night Court saw a twenty-one point eight percent increase in petitioners over the last week, Your Highness.” I reported as I stand and pull the folder with my notes out from under one wing and spread them out on the table in front of me. “Your sister, Princess Luna, also finished reviewing the Equestrian Tax statute number four-eight-three with special emphasis on subsection Gamma-Beta, concerning the importation of iron from our allies within the Griffin commonwealth and the Gold and Silver trade coming in from Zebrica to our south.”
I looked up to the Solar Princess who nodded through a mouthful of muffin and waves me to continue.
“Of the petitioners, fifty-eight percent were of the unicorn tribe, an even thirty percent were pegasi, with the remaining twelve percent being a mix of earth ponies, griffins, and other tribes and races that have taken up residence within your city. A more accurate representation is included with the full report that I have here.”
“Please pass it to my assistant and the two of us will look over it later this morning. Anything else that I should be apprised of?”
“Of the Palace and Canterlot reconstruction,” I continued, shifting one page out of the way and looking down at one of the notes I had made. “Nearly sixty-seven percent of the rubble has been cleared away, Foremare Hard Hat believes that we will be done before the Heartwarming celebration in a few months.”
Celestia hummed at that, frowning ever-so-slightly, then said: “That long? I was assured that they would be done with the hauling before Nightmare Night.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, pulling yet another sheet of parchment from the stack in the folder. “The report from Hard Hat states that, had it only been the rubble on the ground when she was contracted, the work would have been done by then. According to master mason Plumb Line, there are several sections of the Palace and the city that are only standing due to the rubble. As soon as we move the rubble, the structure comes crashing down. Thus far, fifteen ponies have been injured, though not too seriously, and there aren’t enough unicorn heavy lifters to cover the entire city. Hard Hat believes that taking things slowly will minimize the chance for more injuries.”
“Of course, yes, I understand, please pass my thanks to Hard Hat for her due diligence in keeping my ponies safe.”
I could almost hear her inner monologue excluding me from that statement.
“The last new development that bears mentioning now would be that the Royal College of Arcanists wish to begin testing their ideas for closing the rifts.”
“Have they worked out a method to determine if there is somepony trapped within?”
“I don’t think so,” I replied, quickly scanning the parchment that had been given to me on my way here. “No, they have not, but that is one of their main goals with this round of testing.”
“Have them write up their testing strategy as well as the thaumaturgical equations that they plan on using in this test. I will not put my ponies in danger over a misplaced rune or a poorly written spell.”
“Of course Your Highness,” I confirmed, jotting down her instructions and folding the Arcanists’ note up and tucking it under my wing. “I will send word to them as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, Feather Stroke.” Princess Celestia acknowledged as she poured a fresh cup of tea from a delicate teapot, the amber liquid steaming up from her cup.
“My pleasure, Your Highness, I live to serve.” I repled with a bow.
My report given, I waited to be dismissed. I am not invited to a sisterly breakfast, no matter how highly Luna thinks of me.
“Please sit Feather Stroke, there are a few things that we need to discuss.” Celestia ordered, gesturing to my seat with a huge ivory wing.
“Your Majesty?” I asked, retaking my seat and closing my folder.
“You have been my sister’s advisor for how long?”
“Coming up on five years now, ma’am.”
“And how long have you been in my kingdom?”
“It will be six years this coming April.”
“And in all tha-”
THUMP
The two of us jumped at the sudden noise and whirled to the source of the sound.
Luna had fallen asleep into her fruit bowl and is snoring softly into a hunk of pineapple.
Princess Celestia and I stared, dumbfounded, for a few seconds before turning to face each other again, our eyes lock together and, after a few seconds of total silence in the dining room, we both started giggling.
In that moment, I am was a human turned into a pony, I am just another one of her subjects, a family friend, maybe even a favored uncle, and the youngest of the three of us has literally fallen asleep in her breakfast.
“Oh dear,” Celetia managed through her giggles and gently reached out with one of her wings and gave her sister a nudge. “Lulu, sister, please don’t suffocate on that pineapple.”
Still chuckling softly, I closed the folder with my reports, tucked it back under my wing and said: “It is rather late for her to be up, if you don’t mind Your Highness, I’ll see about getting her to bed.”
And before the Solar Diarch could stop me, I gently lifted Luna’s head out of her breakfast bowl and roll her onto my back.
“I will have the reports to Silver Quill in a few minutes, Princess.” I continue after making sure that Luna is securely tucked between my shoulder blades. “Please excuse me, good morning.”
I could feel her eyes on me the entire distance from the table to the door.
/＼ ^._.^ ／\
The two guards stationed at Luna’s chamber doors gave me odd looks as I approached them with their charge slung across my back and drooling into my mane.
“Shhhh…” I whispered to them, putting one wing tip in front of my mouth.
They nodded to me and opened the doors and allowed the two of us to pass inside.
Luna’s personal chambers look like a hurricane hit them, reminding me of my old room at my mom’s place. I never could keep in clean.
With a soft snort, I stopped that train of thought before it could leave the station, no use in crying over spilt milk.
I deposited my folder onto the coffee table in front of the large hearth that takes up the most of the southernmost wall. I then trod over to Luna’s massive and unmade bed and, after making sure that the Princess on my back doesn’t slip off, climbed the two steps up and onto the platform that is dominated by the huge bed.
Working gently and quietly, I maneuvered myself so that I am parallel to the side of the bed and slid Luna onto the cloud mattress.
The navy blue princess mumbled something in her sleep and rolled so that she’s facing away from me.
I rolled my eyes at her sleeping form and pulled the large blanket up and over her, tucking her in.
My charge situated and looking comfortable, I couldn't help but pause and gaze down at her. Without thinking, I use my right wing to tenderly brush her bobbed mane out of her face, smiling back at her as she smiled in her sleep.
I still fondly remember the day that I met the littlest princess, if one were to look closely enough, they would be able to just see the faintest hint of a scar over her right eyebrow.
My last few weeks on Earth had been stressful, hectic, and terrifying. Meeting Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Angle Bunny, and even Discord had been one of the most rewarding experiences in my entire life.
It had also been one of my worst.
I had to leave everything behind: My home, my job, my dog, and even my literal humanity all to do the right thing.
When dad told me that there would come a moment in my life, a choice that I would have to make, that would change everything that I knew about myself and my world forever, I don’t think he would have expected this turn of events.
Especially what happened between Star Shine and I.
I snorted again and shook my head at the memory of her. I can’t even think of her human name, there’s too much risk. Using a Human name, even in Equuish, does strange things to ambient magic that permeates everything in Equestria. Princess Celestia theorized that saying the “real” names of Star Shine or myself could open a new rift right here in Canterlot. Given what had happened with the social worker’s name during Night Court, I don’t even want to think what could happen if somepony tried to use my name.
My eyes refocused on the sleeping princess and I couldn't help the fond smile that broke across my face.
Acting on a whim, I leaned down and pressed a small kiss to her forehead, just under her horn and whispered:
“Good night little one.”