//------------------------------// // Chapter XLV – It's Better to Understand // Story: Journey with a Batpony // by Gulheru //------------------------------// “I would offer you some grape liquor, but you will not take it from me anyway,” Moonwarden stated, staring the cupboard’s way. “Really? And here I thought you would start with ‘pick your poison’, Moonfred, I’m disappointed,” Raven’s reply was as she made her way through the chamber. “That aside, this evening I might have actually taken you up on that drink,” she added, much to his surprise. Well, not pure surprise. “Even the poison?” “As long as it would make stress go away alongside my consciousness.” ... right, maybe pure surprise after all. “Are things that bad? Please, take a seat,” he inquired and offered, claiming his own place whilst making sure not to squash his coat-tails nor the scars. “It pleases you to ask about what’s obvious, Moonfred. Makes you think you are better because you know the answer already,” his solar counterpart retorted, pretty much falling into the armchair, as if the entire weight of the day pressed her into it by force. That at least was not astounding in any way. “Trust me, Ravenlynn, I have far less blatant reasons to consider myself better. I simply figured that such a question would ease us into what is, indeed, the obvious...” he replied, taking off his monocle for a breath. “I heard that Her Solar Majesty was rather distant today and spoke very little. And you are still about rather late...” “And you arrived about rather early. I am aware that Her Lunar Majesty performed her task of rising the Moon and then immediately retreated back to her chambers.” Moonwarden tried to hide a grimace of sadness with a shrug and the changing of the topic’s gravity. “We suffer the perks of our loyal service to them, Ravenlynn. Unregulated work hours whenever necessary and unnecessary, rather vague job descriptions, highly stressful national crises for us to handle on semi-regular basis...” He made a face. “Should we not form a labour union?” “Who? Me and the two of your delusional self? Or do you know of any other Advisors about that would be interested?” she asked with a roll of her eyes. “Goodness no, three is a crowd already...” he stated and felt himself agreeing. He took a deep breath, looking right into Raven’s eyes. “Glad you can still bite back this eve, but do share with me now, please. What is the situation with our esteemed guests?” She just sighed and leaned back, visibly exhausted. Closing her eyes on top of that. Truth be told, Moonwarden would normally take great pleasure in seeing her indisposition and weariness, but solidarity of cause and loyalty to Their Majesties meant a bit more than personal joy at that moment. Especially since Raven would never allow herself to show such weakness. Especially not before him. There must have been an indisputably solid reason for it and, more so, a reason shared by the two of them, as the closest confidants of the Equestrian diarchy. So he gave her the time, until she finally took a deeper breath and stared back at him. “I had a talk with Her Highness Princess Cadance not three hours ago. His Highness, the Prince-Consort, did not take the latest news and revelations well, as you’ve already witnessed, but that seemed to have been just the tip of the iceberg.” “I expected him not to, he is quite the... maybe ‘unforgiving one’ is a bit too much, but you know what I mean. I take it from your tone that he is still fuming?” “Indeed,” Raven revealed, shaking her head. “Thankfully, his sense of duty and composure is winning with his fraternal outrage.” Moonwarden smirked just a little. “I actually nearly stumbled upon him on my way here, to the Office. I was unwilling to take any bets on his mental well-being, so I performed a quick dive down another corridor,” he admitted, shrugging. “An amusing image, you know... though I don’t entirely blame you, considering past grievances,” Raven replied, taking off her glasses and grabbing the bridge of her muzzle. “I still do not think he would hold you by your pristine rags and slam you against a column and all, though it would be an even more humorous sight...” “Laugh if you wish, Ravenlynn, but I had a dream like that once,” Moonwarden disclosed, his eyes not focusing at anything in particular for a moment. “Only that the Captain of the Royal Guard was not Shining Armor but some... sand yellow pegasus of sorts. My silver tongue could not get me out of that one, he was quite vigilant... and when brawn won over magic he even cracked my spine against the marbles.” The mare grimaced in half-amusement. “Anypony you slighted?” “Perhaps, it is hard to keep track,” he admitted, somewhat absentminded. “I think a... mare was involved?” And Raven’s mirth was gone entirely in but a breath. “In that case it really must be hard to keep track. I’m surprised a throng of Canterlot stallions haven’t yet stormed your manor with torches and pitchforks. Would serve you right, you dallier.” Moonwarden brought himself back to the waking world with an expression of discontent. “Name-calling, how moralistic of you, Ravenlynn. I will have you know that despite the rumours, I find absolutely no appeal in playing a ‘homewrecker’,” he accentuated. And quite sternly. “Call me egotistical, but I never enjoyed sharing. Especially what happens to be... pristine. Or call me finicky that way.” “I won’t call you anything ‘that way’, as I have absolutely no interest in trying to scrutinize your disgusting, collector’s libertinism.” “Moral high ground has its definite drawbacks when it comes to perspective. Some matters are truly more thrilling up close,” he teased a little, paying no mind to her outrage. Not that she could ever understand his choices. “But we digress in an unpleasant way... and more predicaments still await us anyway, so back to the topic if we please. Point of order – Shining Armor is roaming the halls like a storm front.” Raven, indeed, seemed ready to drop the previous matter. He bet that for more reasons than just his argument or lack of personal interest. Reasons that might or might not have involved her not being engaged with anypony for a significant time now, but he was not going to poke that beehive. There was a limit to malice and that limit was the safety of one’s muzzle. Like he had reminded Wobble Wink, quite recently. He blinked, focusing again, not to miss her words. “Indeed. Princess Cadance did tell me that she tried to calm him down, but... learning of Her Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle remaining among the batponies does not sit well with him,” she made that abundantly clear with that dry, flat tone she used. “Considering the circumstances – understandable, I would say...” Moonwarden admitted, leaning forward. “Does she have any insights? She was Her Highness’ foalsitter after all, they were always close. Is she bothered by this and that it was kept under the rug?” “Worried as well, yes, even if she did accept Their Majesties’ explanations. Though...” Raven paused for a breath, finding the right words. “The other matter did cause her greater distress. She was cautious in her comments about it, but it was obvious to me that it all feels very wrong to her, keeping history contained like that. And she did divulge, indirectly, that she would feel much better with making this matter public.” Moonwarden felt himself sneering as he clicked with his tongue. “I take it you managed to convince her that transparency would not be the greatest of ideas right now?” “Of course, do not take me for a novice,” Raven retorted, frowning. “Princess Cadance is rather easy to read and sway with the right arguments. Not like Her Solar Majesty, for example.” “Who, you believe, is enigmatically stubborn, yes?” “Hilarious, Moonfred,” Raven replied, rolling her eyes. “You know what I mean. You too wonder about the extent of Her Majesty’s motivations and agendas. Even if, as you must be well aware of, she has the well-being and prosperity of our entire nation at heart at all times.” “I think the last few days proved that it is not the integrity of contents in our hearts which we should be worried about, but minds instead,” he riposted, rubbing his chin. “Is this the only genocidal war we have been involved in or does the radiant Sun have even more dark spots, casting shade on our history? It is such an interesting premise.” “You will be very careful now, Moonfred,” came the reply, alongside that strong tone he knew rather well. “Are you calling Her Majesty into question?” “Not at all, Ravenlynn,” he told her, with a perfectly neutral expression. “I find that possibility deeply fascinating. Especially after a certain lecture I have received about abuse of trust and plots at the expenses of others. If Her Solar Majesty is capable of such schemes, perhaps she was not warning me. Perhaps she was actually encouraging me to think bigger? After all, compared to her ‘tour de force’, my machinations feel like foal’s play.” Moonwarden’s counterpart suddenly sprang up from her seat, which made him raise his hooves in self-defense. He almost flared his horn, actually. “Enough! I will not listen to these—!” Easy now. “Calm, Ravenlynn, calm,” he told her, turning his trained reaction into a conciliatory gesture in a heartbeat. “Stop, please. Believe me, I had not wished to upset you quite so much. I did consider that I would tease you but a little, but then you would simply snap back at me and feel much better afterwards. Reminded that at least here, between us, things are like always and not worse...” he explained, watching her face carefully. There was a lot to watch for, indeed. Raven wore a mixture of outrage, shock and insult on her muzzle. But it was a mask. Quite cracked wherever it mattered. So he spoke again, with a small frown. “It is very much unlike you to retreat from my strikes... I had no idea you are that burdened by all of this. My deepest apologies.” Raven stood still for a few breaths more. Did she believe his most sincere of redresses? She was far too smart for that. But she could at least realize that he was not seeking a real confrontation, just that little game they played of hating one another’s guts. Did wonders for their productivity. Finally, and once more with the weight upon her shoulders almost thrusting her down, she took her seat back. “My...” she tried to begin, but had to take a deeper breath first. “My loyalty to Her Solar Majesty is unshaken and unwavering. But that is... a lot to process, yes.” “I concur,” he replied, leaning back and trying to make himself more comfortable, despite his back. And the topic. “Even hearing it from Her Lunar Majesty herself felt otherworldly. What happened all that time ago was, indisputably, harsh for Her Solar Majesty, for reasons private and political, and now on top of everything we are aware she had to deal with an organized mass murder...” Raven nodded profoundly. “Losing her sister... then having a close friend to both of them just fall into pieces over the death of his family.” “A hero who became a butcher, with a whole town as his crimson abattoir,” Moonwarden said poetically, but with an obvious glower. “Abhorrent. Despicable. Purely pointless as well, this massacre. And I am only saying that in case you were not to believe myself moved by the knowledge of it, though I assure you that my outrage is sincere.” “You’re a reprobate, Moonfred, nopony can convince me otherwise, but even you could not possibly endorse such barbarism,” Raven judged. “Which is correct. When I advise Her Lunar Majesty to commit a terrible travesty, I make sure there is an actual gain to be had from it, not just satisfying a revenge and estranging an entire, neighboring race,” he commented in flat monotone. She did not appreciate his deadpan humor, however. “Speaking of which... in regards to the erasure of a part of our history, we now have a possible threat of an immediate invasion, a threat already within our borders,” she added, her tone more tired than before. Pretty self-explanatory. “And I don’t mean one Nightguard bastion behind our walls. I mean a whole town under our hooves!” “Indeed.” Moonwarden just shook his head. “To think it did not cross my mind when I saw the scope of the garrison at Hollow Shades. I considered a certain grandeur of design for the sake of it. But it being, quite possibly, one of the fortified entrances to their old habitat? That escaped me.” “Are you admitting to a mistake, Moonfred?” “Do not be utterly ridiculous, Ravenlynn, does that sound like me? I had other, crucial things on my mind than appreciating subterranean architecture...” She tilted her head a little. “Do I hear worry in your voice?” Drat, could she? He was being rather careful about that. As much as she was putting on a mask when performing her duties, he too did not wish to be seen at any less than absolute best. Yes, for personal reasons... and those even more personal. However, considering everything... perhaps it was not the worst thing to explain to her why would he ever miss such a blatant thing. He leaned back, with but a little scowl, feeling the stinging skin aplenty. To accentuate his point he restored his monocle as well. “You are well aware of my abilities...” “Yes,” she said almost immediately. And he detoured his point for a moment. “... which is why you have since always been borrowing books on how to counteract mentalism, as I have learnt. A prudent reaction,” he praised her without malice, “but I assure you once more that you have nothing to fear. I am far too reasonable to try and charm you, you are a bit too close to Her Solar Majesty. She would definitely grant me a nasty case of a sunburn were she to find out. You can relax.” “No.” “So you read those dutifully, I see,” he spoke with a huge, satisfied grin. “But my point still stands. I do not utilize my skills without good consideration about consequences. Let alone being well aware of their complexity. That being said, I do like to... test things and ponies, if necessity commands it.” Raven’s expression was only growing progressively colder. “Get to the point.” Way to repay honesty. “I used my latest assignment to check whether I could learn something about our nocturnal neighbors with some non-invasive techniques,” he spoke, straightening up. Ready to take a blow. “I failed.” There was that smirk of satisfaction. But he withstood it like a gallant stallion of honour should have. “You failed? They were actually paying that much attention, or are you getting old, Moonfred?” “No older than you, Ravenlynn,” he struck back, but there was no point in such skirmishes at that moment. “I failed for a reason that I could not have foreseen, as it happens. Because they seem to be immune.” “Now... that is interesting. Batponies cannot be influenced by these arts?” Raven asked, for once genuinely engrossed when it came to discussing mentalism. “Are you certain?” “For the moment, I have to profess so,” he declared and her eyes shone, as if she were the one to possess the specified skills. “That would be a novelty! The books I’ve read mentioned that untrained minds can be inspected rather thoroughly with the right application of—” Moonwarden sighed. “I wrote the book on mentalism... Well, I have not actually, but you do not have to quote those to me. I know every page, paragraph and letter that can be found in reasonable opuses in Canterlot,” he responded. “... weren’t you banned from accessing some of those tomes?” And then he simply had to roll his eyes too. “Stone the crows, Ravenlynn, you have just said that I am a reprobate, why would that be in any way surprising to you?” he asked rhetorically. “The point is that while, yes, batponies lack any sort of arcane proficiency, their minds seem to be actively blocking mental tampering for some reason. My spells and charms were unable to find purchase, even but a crack in this protection.” Raven leaned back in her seat, having withstood his revelation and the poke with relative ease. She, rather, appeared most intrigued. “Would it ruin the image of me that you have in your conniving head if I right now admit that it is an unfortunate development?” “If you right now admit that it is an unfortunate development that I suddenly cannot use a morally questionable, dignity-assaulting, illegal branch of magic?” “Yes.” Moonwarden looked to the side for a moment, furrowing his brow. “N... no, you are still as reprehensibly intolerable as you were before. Now I simply almost have enough proof to maybe call you a hypocrite from time to time.” That, at least, made her chuckle. Just a little. He continued, with far more consideration in his tone. “Perhaps some of the most direct spells would work, but the last thing I wanted was antagonizing a whole garrison and, more importantly, overstepping. Her Lunar Majesty made it clear that she does not wish her children hurt in any way and, oh, some of those enchantments do hurt.” Raven shivered a little at his words, but regained composure momentarily. “Besides, the batponies seem to be hurting already, as we’ve discovered. As Her Lunar Majesty discovered as well.” “Seems that way... so, as you were saying,” Moonwarden reinstated the main topic finally, “you have managed to persuade Her Highness Princess Cadance to abandon the notion of propagating this knowledge, at least or the moment?” Raven did nod. “Yes, I have. She understood, begrudgingly... and the Prince-Consort both accepts the value of secrecy and has a much greater gripe to think about than a ‘Holy War’ from a millennium ago. And yet...” She didn’t finish, but Moonwarden knew well what she wanted to say. “... and yet a secret known to six ponies stopped being a secret quite some time ago,” he stated and she shrugged in her own, resentful agreement. “Not to even mention an entire race which is, apparently, not only well aware of it, but considering it an understandably vital and virulent part of their history. So much so that we have to consider that they shall try retaking their former possessions by force.” “And that they are, possibly, much closer to doing just that than we’ve ever thought. But... conducting such straightforward actions instead of utilizing the possessed ‘Testimony’?” Raven asked herself. “That still does not make sense to me, Moonfred.” He pondered for but a moment longer, but then shook his head. “I can fathom that approach quite well, actually. It is one thing to bring somepony a document, or summons to court. Strongly worded letters are something of a tradition in Trottingham even. But it is another thing to have that paper presented to somepony on a spear’s tip. To be reluctantly witty – it definitely makes a point.” Raven almost groaned. “Now the question is – how do we precisely respond to this threat?” “I have actually thought of a few approaches already, but first concluded that we need much more information about threats distant, not-so-distant and very close, so I have—” He’s returning. “Moonfred?” Raven asked when he was suddenly rendered silent by the warning in his head. “Oh, forgive me, I think one of my ‘approaches’ is back here already.” Just then there was a knock on the door. And also considering the rhythmic, precise nature of it, a model officer was behind it. “Enter!” The wood creaked just a little and the silhouette of Brass Plaque manifested itself at the threshold. He was holding a scroll of some sort, looking inside with a diligently careful stare of his sharp eyes. “Royal Advisor, sir!” he exclaimed and saluted, though upon witnessing Raven just nearby, quickly changed his further words. “Royal Advisor, ma’am! Do forgive me, I knew not of a scheduled meeting. I shall await outside until its conclusion.” Moonwarden shook his hoof. “At ease, lieutenant. Advisor Raven and I were just discussing the matters of your last assignment, actually. And she is aware of the nature of your work nowadays anyway. Come in.” The pegasus said nothing, merely nodded his head and assumed a smidgen more relaxed stance once inside. Still ready to act, however. It was his defining feature, after all, that constant preparedness and strife for absolute perfection. Raven did lean forth, her gaze examining Brass Plaque intently. “So, lieutenant, it is you who is providing the necessary military insight in the operations of the Second Chance?” she asked with curiosity. The officer said nothing at first, his eyes merely shifted towards Moonwarden, who nodded, granting the necessary permissions through stare alone. And only after this wordless exchange did the pegasus reply. “Yes, ma’am, as I am ordered.” “And you also still continue your work in the Royal Guard, under certain supervision?” “Yes, ma’am.” “No qualms about how this all came to pass, lieutenant? How you found yourself in the esteemed company you are now a part of?” Moonwarden gave her an unamused look. “Are you interrogating my operatives now, Ravenlynn?” “Merely satisfying my interest, especially in regards to the nature of the Second Chance as a concept,” she replied, again glancing the pegasus’ way. “Could I find this satisfaction in your response, lieutenant?” Careful. It was both a warning directed at Raven that Moonwarden heard in the confines of his head... and a little tip for Brass Plaque. One that he definitely became aware of, through the arcane mark in the depths of his head. Just a little, helpful chicanery. At least that mental trick worked soundly and flawlessly so far. The officer took a deep breath. “Ma’am, if your question is directed at me due to the fact that I avoided a dishonorable discharge in return for an additional, clandestine assignment for the good of the country, then I assure you, it was a most generous offer that my patriotism shall not allow me to abuse in any way. If your question is a hint at the unfortunate happening which led to my military trial in regards to abuse, I truly regret that my direct leadership methods led to these tragedies. Their nature was to instill rigid discipline and heighten desire for exemplary attitude, not a misconduct for the sake of personal gains or achievement of creating a unit of utterly principled and loyal Guardsponies.” Raven squinted, judging the answer, but Brass Plaque did not even quiver. More like an impassive nameplate on a memorial statue than a pony. He did well. He did very well. Moonwarden finally interrupted this one-sided staring contest. “As you can tell, Ravenlynn, the lieutenant understands the significance of what transpired and what his new role is. I am certain that what he has brought to us only solidifies our faith in him, no?” The officer saluted immediately. “Yes, Royal Advisor, sir!” Raven pursed her lips. She might have remained unconvinced, but she could not keep poking without a big enough hole. One that she definitely could not find in the stern wall that was Brass Plaque. “Very well... What proximity of a threat was the lieutenant researching for you, then, Moonfred?” she asked instead. “Depends on the findings,” he responded, then shifted in his seat to focus better on the pegasus. “You can speak freely, Brass Plaque, Advisor Raven is authorized to share in our surveillance in regards to the batpony situation.” “Yes, sir,” the officer affirmed, then trotted forth, pointing out the scroll he was holding. “I have performed a quick inquiry around military channels, in a way that would not be deemed too invasive. Asking about the Nightguard personnel activity directly could have been raising suspicions, but I have gained access to the official correspondence between our headquarters and theirs, sir.” “I take it something caught your eye amongst the missives?” “Yes, sir. As you might be aware, Nightguard units are stationed in but a number of smaller outposts around the country and in the nearby bastion. And whilst their performance as a peacekeeping force is reported to be exemplary, minus some signs of distrust from the local populace and minor complaints, there have never been an agreement achieved over organizing, for example, joint military maneuvers as a form of solidifying cooperation between our units and theirs.” Raven joined in. “We are aware of the fact. I read a note somewhere that the head of the Royal Guard from Manehattan complained that the lack of such coordination and unification of methods is causing a peculiar shift in the time of crime perpetration. Apparently a number of miscreants preferred to risk robberies in broad daylight, rather than face the Nightguard after dark.” “Ah, yes, I think I remember a case regarding that actually. No Chill v Manehattan Law Enforcement,” Moonwarden brought up. “Nippy ‘No Chill’ Morn was a small time mugger that tried to sue for extensive physical harm due to misconduct via unwarranted brutality, I believe? Which is a convoluted way of saying that when the Nightguard caught him in the act of robbing an elderly couple, they gave him a sound thrashing,” he explained with a small chuckle. “It was actually pretty amusing the read his indictment. ‘They had no chill dealing with No Chill.’ ” Brass Plaque did not even flinch, his professionalism winning over appreciating the irony. Unsurprising. And also commendable. “Yes, sir. These are some examples of the aftermath of their unwillingness. However, I have gained access to messages from some months ago which caught my interest. I have quickly compiled them, sir.” He passed the scroll Moonwarden’s way. “It seems that Nightguard Commander Ardent Fang did inquire whether it would be possible for the Nightguard to hold their own maneuvers in a safe environment, as a form of more elaborate practice for the troops stationed in Equestria. Getting them further acclimatized with the environment and so forth.” Raven perked up visibly. “I take it he mentioned the Eastern Woods?” “Yes, ma’am, among other possible locations.” Moonwarden wasted no time, opening to scroll and skimming through it rapidly. He mumbled to himself to better grasp the core of the messages. “I wish to state an official request... believing it to be helpful for maintaining coherency of the unit... remote location, to avoid disturbing the populace... official permissions for unit and supplies transport... wait,” he stopped abruptly, hitting an interesting passage. “ ‘As the consideration between having the entire unit’s simultaneous participation or squadron interchanges is still ongoing, I wish to further inquire, in the event of leaving the main Nightguard headquarters without the necessary numbers to staff them adequately, is it possible to request a unit of the Equestrian Royal Guard maintaining the fortress until the contingent’s return’?” He looked up from the scroll, blinking. “Commander Ardent Fang hinted at the possibility of leaving the bastion completely abandoned for a time?” Brass Plaque nodded. “Yes, sir, that was in the messages. He was assured that the Royal Guard shall be honored to safeguard the place until the end of their training.” “Just like that?” Raven asked aloud. “You don’t just... leave a base to another fighting force, no? Unless you don’t plan to come back. What about all the military equipment, the documentation, you cannot just leave that lying about!” Moonwarden thought the same way, so he also added further questions. “They would not be so naïve, would they? They cannot possibly be convinced about Equestria’s good will if they are planning a military action... Besides, is the Royal Guard supposed to just spare ponies like that? Was any reimbursement mentioned for this favour?” The pegasus thought for a while. “No, sir, I do not recall any mentions of that, other than the pleasure of helping a kindred military unit.” “Maybe they are not naïve, but we are. Or...” Moonwarden glanced at the scroll in his hooves. “Maybe there is a repayment, just underhoof.” Raven, thematically, brought a hoof under her chin in thought. “You’re expecting bribery of some sort?” “It would be foolish not to expect it, if we are going deep into this particular mire...” he retorted, then glanced again Brass Plaque’s way. “Your opinion.” “Sir, I shall refrain from putting into question the integrity of my superiors within the Royal Guard’s chain of command,” he replied. “Then give me something else,” Moonwarden pressed him, leaning forth. The lieutenant straightened up, immediately gathering his thoughts. “Sir, yes, sir! I believe that... from a tactical standpoint, minding what was shared with me after the latest meeting, I see... three possible scenarios.” “Elaborate.” Brass Plaque took a deep breath and spoke slowly and clearly. “First possibility is the Nightguard abandoning their fortress on the basis of the training pretense. If Commander Ardent Fang asked about possible transportation of supplies, he might be foreseeing leaving this position entirely as impossible to defend in case of open animosities.” Raven chimed in. “Would batponies give up an ancestral bastion like that? I recall them being quite joyous about again being stationed there.” “Ancestral bastion versus ancestral province. I would say it sounds like an acceptable exchange in the end,” Moonwarden retorted. “Second scenario?” “The second one I am basing on the fact that we have some knowledge of their fortress’ layout, since it was explored by many ponies in the Nightguard’s absence. In case Commander Ardent Fang believes his forces and their training sufficient, he can attempt to lure us into thinking they would, indeed, abandon it. But instead, he gathers supplies and consolidates forces under the guise of the upcoming training. Then he entrenches deep in the bastion, using narrow corridors and the underground layout to efficiently defend. “We could not possibly leave an enemy stronghold be, we would have to commit forces for a siege. Not even to take it, but to stop dangerous forays from their location. The more dangerous by being so close to the capital. It would definitely weaken us, stop us from having more fighting ponies at the front line in the Eastern Woods.” Moonwarden rolled his eyes. “Not to mention the already existing commitment of granting military aid to Maretonia. They would be spreading us about and that’s the last thing we want...” “So if they leave their stronghold, we have an elite force reinforcing their main offensive,” Raven added on top of that. “If they stay, we have hostiles right by us... What’s worse?” “There’s a third option, Royal Advisor, ma’am,” Brass Plaque responded to that. “Commander Ardent Fang declares training, pretends that the bastion is empty, our unit walks in to staff it in the meantime, then gets ambushed and taken hostage.” Moonwarden leaned back, not even bothering about his scars, though his lips shuddered in discomfort. “Wherever we turn, we risk a stab from the shadows. No evidence to support what I am about to say, but if they were daring enough to start tunneling under that fortress like they had done in the case of ‘Shades’ Hollow’, they could emerge anywhere near. And hostages... we have population in the Eastern Woods, however small. There are ponies living around each of the Nightguard outposts, if they would want to be particularly ruthless...” He bit his lip. He felt an upcoming exchange. “We need more. Much more. We need to understand what they think... But how? How to approach this?” Brass Plaque was already used to these moments, so he waited, stoic and stern. Raven showed far more direct interest in the storm of thoughts in Moonwarden’s head. Wishing to add to it productively, as it seemed. “We push too much, we risk provoking a reaction, whichever one of those mentioned. This has to be dealt with in a way they do not expect, or at least one to give them a pause...” He heard her suggestion and himself agreed. “Fair point. What is unexpected right now? Wait, there is also... But would she? No, I do not think so. Unless something terrible comes. We need to counsel her still. But the batponies... They have been planning. Yes, they do not trust us. All of us? Wait, are you suggesting...? Perhaps. If they keep it hidden, how about... Yes, that could make sense. Or perhaps...? But you know she... I know. We shall ask.” Having arrived at something that resembled consensus, Moonwarden suddenly stood up from his seat. Startling Raven, until now leaning forth and catching every word. “Well done, Brass Plaque,” he addressed his operative first, returning the scroll to him. “Take this report, share it with others and await instructions.” “Sir, yes, sir!” “Thank you for staying about so long, Ravenlynn,” Moonwarden then added, turning to the mare. “Catch some rest, you’ll be notified what arrangement we have arrived at with Her Lunar Majesty. I think she might enjoy my proposition.” Raven blinked, confused. “What proposition? About the batponies’ invasion? What have you thought of, Moonfred?” He just smirked. “Something rather straightforward. I will simply go and ask them about it.” *** Twilight found herself humming as she was shuffling about her luggage, checking for a nice ensemble to wear that night. It looked like she had some free time after all, at least until tomorrow night, with Lords Bright Crescent and Sunfall Word not arriving quite yet. So she hoped to wear something elegant, but a little more casual. And she was in the Sanctuary, some measure of modesty could have been a great choice for trotting about and sightseeing as well. That was on her mind most of all. Yes, that. Just that. It would have been surprising even for her, realizing her sudden shift of priorities, were it not a deliberate plan. For she did her best to push the thoughts of the upcoming talks with the Covenant to the very back of her mind. That night was supposed to be a small breather before diving again into those deep, murky waters of politics. It was only logical, after all. She needed strength, patience, courage. She couldn’t let those be sapped by worrying terribly already. She needed a distraction. And she already had one to focus on all too easily. Namely, last morning with Midnight. All the... physical after the metaphysical, as she found it best to describe. They both remained reasonable, naturally, not to risk too much by being too careless... though that would have been absolutely wonderful. But Midnight did spend quite a while in her chambers after all. Reminding her of their deep, romantic connection through the very clear means of lips and hooves... Just thinking about that was enough to invoke a crimson blush on Twilight’s muzzle. She shook her head. As pleasant and successful of a distraction as that was, she pondered when exactly did she become such an... an addict for intimacy? To think that for so long she completely disregarded it, the very thought of being close with somepony, and then, specifically, with Midnight, could literally paralyze her. And now she didn’t think she could get quite enough of it! Enough of the warm breaths and all matters much, much warmer. Somewhat bizarre still. But maybe it was her initial, panicked reluctance about all of it that was simply being equalized in her life? Perhaps she never realized just how much she needed that closeness in it? Sounded somewhat possible. And decidedly pleasant. Pleasant enough that she simply needed the next, even smallest of an opportunity to arise for them to be on their own and she was not going to squander any of it. So she continued humming that melody without melody, escaping her freely. One that proved to her that even she was capable of finding a moment of respite and daydreaming without the world collapsing upon itself. A knock on the door did little to startle her out of her mood. “Kwi bid to?” she asked in Noctraliyar. “Coene i zabawe,” came Midnight’s voice from the other side. “Wena w, conmod.” The stallion made his way inside with a great, big, fanged grin. “I’m glad to hear that you are getting more and more comfortable with my tongue.” His tone matched his expression. “You clearly enjoyed our last practice.” Twilight turned red in an instant, but managed to stifle a giggle after all. “From that audacious pun I take it there’s nopony in the corridor and you can dare to be a rascal safely?” “That you are right, my light, I told the arcemandr I will bring you your food myself,” he responded, putting a bowl full of various fruit on the table. “Thought you would like to share a meal and enjoy some nice entertainment right in the early night.” “Oh, so those are the words you used, alright,” she pointed out to herself, trying to memorize what she heard. “I see the meal, where’s the entertainment?” He just chuckled and immediately approached her in a way that exuded confidence. “At your service, hwalba knaze,” he whispered and she shivered as he leaned in for a kiss. No opportunities squandered, indeed. Twilight finally had to catch her breath after a while, leaning slightly away from him. But just slightly. “What have you done with me, Midnight Wind?” He gave her a look which was a clear outcome of amusement and confusion. “I don’t understand. Whatever would you mean, iau lumn?” “I used to be a focused, methodical mare, never really acting on instinct or whim and now every time we have a chance, I just cannot stop myself from this!” she complained, but not really. Especially when she saw that spark in his eyes. “Define ‘this’.” Predictable. Wonderfully predictable, she thought, as she leaned back in. And this time she had to brace herself for even longer, when Midnight kept her in with his forelegs and his webbed wings. Not that she felt bad about that. It just meant that she remained in the safest place in the world for a while longer. “This...” she finally managed to mutter, her eyes lidded and her breath deliciously shallow. “This and more,” he whispered back, with that roguish grin of his. “I would normally answer ‘it must be my wonderful self’, no? But I’d rather claim...” He held her even closer, reaching her ear with his lips. “... that’s it’s ‘us’. The fact that there is an ‘us’. Us, blessed by Neskaza Lunee... Her gaze. And Her motherly love, safeguarding ours.” Twilight wasn’t sure what made her tremble more. His breath dancing about, making her ear flicker, or the conviction and certainty in his tone. “You make it sound like we are a part of something far greater than just ‘us’,” she replied, nuzzling eagerly into his neck, his warmth. “Aren’t we just that?” he asked more than glad for her closeness. “I mean... I am a Nocferrat, you are a Princess, this is a diplomatic mission of great importance. All of this seems quite above our heads and yet we are here...” Twilight did nod... but she didn’t particularly wish to consider ‘all of this’ at the moment. “I know, Midnight, I know, but let’s focus on something else for the night, alright? Less profound, even if more... ‘us’.” “Of course, you’re right,” he agreed, kissing the top of her head. “Do you have something in mind, then? Honored Lords probably won’t congregate until next night or two, there’s time tonight to do whatever you might have thought about, definitely.” Twilight gave him a last peck on his lips for the moment and then moved away, towards her luggage. “I was thinking of something leisurely, but...” She had to ask. Unfortunately. Inquire about the obvious, from the moment Midnight had spoken so openly and without worries. “Is Rowan Berry not joining us? Where is she?” “Oh, yes...” He made a perturbed face. She knew what it was about, at least. “Well, she asked me to convey to you that she wishes to take the venerable Piastan up on his offer and humbly asks for a night free, with your permission, for prayer and confession. And reconvening with her Lord. She hopes to be forgiven that she is not asking personally. She made it clear that, were you to be offended by this, she is willing to accept full punishment.” His tone mixed desired accuracy of conveying her words and... something else. Twilight felt it could have been embarrassment. Vicarious, second-hoof, one could name it. “I’m not offended, though I am concerned she didn’t want to tell me that in person...” she replied, worry slipping into her voice. “I offered my aid and support honestly yesternight. Did she take it badly as well? Did you talk with her about it?” Midnight bit the side of his lip and hissed briefly. “No, not really. She does not want to converse with me currently.” “It bothers you,” she stated the fact in return. “Only as much as it should a stallion that wants to do the right thing,” he responded with a shrug, but quickly his expression turned into one of deep caring. “Please, iau dilece, don’t worry about it too much.” Twilight did nod. She wasn’t going to forget about the topic until the result of Midnight’s... sharp if transparent refusal would pass. But she also truly didn’t wish to spoil her day. Night. She needed to gather mental strength. Where better in Noctraliya than in the Sanctuary after all? It would be a shame not to use this chance. “Very well, then...” she agreed, reaching into the bag an pulling out a gown that she eyed before. “Might I ask your opinion on a dress?” “Of course.” “What do you think about this one?” Not the richest of ensembles she had, but definitely one she would consider the most appropriate. The bodice of amaranthine and royal blue was nicely covering the torso, but leaving the body shape displayed and the skirt was multilayered, yet in no way overbearing. True, it was of an older Equestrian style, but one of those unpretentious pieces, which could have been made easily a little more regal with the addition of jewelry. Like the necklace she had gotten from Garnet Hoof. Smaller, silver earrings would match too, especially if she would pin up her mane a little, maybe with a braid as well... Midnight, as if already seeing through the entirety of her ensemble’s idea, did exhale. “Ha, wonderful choice. I think you will look... accurate.” “Simply ‘accurate’?” she asked, shooting him an amused glance. “Yes, indeed. For my brethren in the Tuarie, you will be a foreign leader showing proper decorum by wearing something of style, grace and reserve, befitting a holy place. For me, you’ll be looking like the hottest filly about.” “Midnight!” she protested, not able to stop a laugh. Or the blush. “That’s a bit too ridiculous, even for you! Behave!” He just stuck out his tongue at her a little, the goof. The lovable goof. She wasted no time sharing the meal with him... minus a few kisses and nuzzles here and there, and soon, changed and presentable, they both exited her chambers to explore the long corridors, filled with gentle candlelight and softened with woolen rugs. “I know what I have in mind, ha, because you look absolutely stunning, but you still haven’t made me aware what is your plan exactly for tonight,” Midnight did put before her as they were nearing the main cavern of the Sanctuary. “That’s the thing,” she replied, allowing herself an almost mysterious smile. “I haven’t really had a chance for sightseeing and take in this place the last time we were here. It was all about the celebratory welcoming and then straight to diplomatic business. So... I don’t think I have a plan. I don’t think I want to have a plan,” she pointed out. “I want to trot about, take in the sights, enjoy the atmosphere and just relax for a while.” Midnight chuckled. “Ab Bogine, what have I done to you, indeed?” he asked in a whisper as they came closer to a much more open space. Twilight grinned. Just a little. Putting a label on that “what” was unnecessary. That night, she just wanted to feel good. To have a while for herself and her, wisely unofficial, lover. Enough said that she felt confident in herself to simply, for the moment, go with the flow. Without eighteen lists, checked twice! She simply didn’t need them! ... alright, she almost shuddered at that daring declaration. She was more than certain she would definitely feel in need of those when the talks would start again. Desperately. Maybe nineteen lists. Just to be sure. But, at that moment, just her and Midnight was sufficient for the world to continue. And what a world it was, before her very eyes. “This is just... astonishing,” she told him as they stepped into the central cave. “I still cannot fathom how long it must have taken to create such a space. This is like nothing I have seen or read about before.” Midnight’s smile told her of his righteous pride. He looked about and in his own gaze she also spotted that awe and wonderment at the miracles around. The stone pillars like majestic trees, with petite crystal formations as if clusters of luminescent moss, reaching far, far to the canopy of ancient stone. The great minerals hanging down from this rocky ceiling, reminding onlookers of gigantic pinecones, were shedding brilliant light all over the cave and yet retaining a certain dignity and grace even with their bright illumination. Heightened still by the omnipresent glints and reflections due to ponds and the lively stream making its way through the cavern. Among this ancient, petrified forest, locals dwelt, appearing not unlike whimsical, ephemeral spirits. Safe in their everlasting haven, their eternal refuge. Like from old fables. Their Sanctuary, where stone, water and light protected, sustained and guided. Twilight managed to somehow break the stupefying spell of this place and, though making sure to look presentable, already seeing curious glances from the inhabitants, lean towards Midnight. She wished to retain some privacy of conversation and she had to be cautious. In their reflective, sharp gazes she was a Princess of a distant land, granted permission to dwell in this sacred space for the moment. He was her assigned, dutiful guardian, a symbol of the nation’s pride and strength. Were they only aware of how much deeper their connection went... even if Twilight knew that was not the best knowledge to propagate. Sometimes transparency had to be a secondary matter. “I’m curious, Midnight...” she whispered to him carefully. “How does this all compare to what you’ve seen after I cast my spell?” He pondered for a moment, continuing the slow trot and keeping up all necessary appearances. “Oh, because this too is like a forest of sorts? In a different light and... style?” “Yes, exactly. I think it’s an interesting analogy to study, perhaps?” “An engaging question, that is without a doubt. I... think I can only try to explain it as such,” he said, looking about for both the right observations and words, evidently. “Out there, witnessing the light of the Judging Sun I saw... life. I felt it. Not that I do not experience it here as well, but the warmth and the colors made me focus on what was around. Before me. What I could witness. The hues, the reflections, all so vibrant and... lively. I experienced the present to its fullest.” He gestured a little, pointing out the architectural brilliance, from the pillars to the minerals. “What I see around here...Tuarie takes me beyond,” he accentuated, a strange smile blossoming on his muzzle. “And not beyond the mountain, into the vales and wild forests... but beyond what I can experience but with my eyes. Into what I can barely understand. Just like in the very Light of Our Mother, in Her silver presence, everything around here seems more profound, more meaningful. Just... more.” Twilight listened very attentively to him. It was simply fascinating to hear such a comparison. From, quite likely, the one and only noctral to witness the world basking in the Sun. Setting, but no less grandiose and bright. The one servant of the Goddess who experienced the light of the Judging Sun without a lethal threat to his eyesight. Though it was still the illumination of the Immaculate Moon that he associated with that fuller ‘more’, he now truly possessed the contrast to solidify it in his mind and heart. And Twilight found it beautiful... They were together progressing deeper into the cavern, between the great, towering columns, Twilight taking in their resplendence. She found it fascinating how they were textured. The grooves appeared almost natural, but were chiseled with remarkable artistry, allowing patterns to develop without really making them stand out. A perfectly struck balance, embellished with minerals, some of which could be all too easily compared to just... moss, as she had already found herself thinking. Carpets of minuscule clusters, one by one, as if grown naturally. Just like that. She would so wish for a crystal pony, with their undeniable expertise, to examine how exactly that effect was achieved, other than meticulous work over years and years. Perhaps, one day, that scenario could be made possible. They finally reached the section of the cavern where ponds and fountains could be found in abundance. The stream, dancing playfully about, had just the necessary discipline to stay within its canal and provide the source of crystalline water to fill all of those delightful pools, full of fragrant water lilies. Yet another level of mystique in this place, Twilight thought. The crystal clarity of the mountain water, its free and unbound nature, not tamed, but almost softly persuaded to make the Sanctuary even more otherworldly. She stopped, watching the omnipresent mineral light dancing in reflections so wonderfully and playfully. “Do you think anypony will mind if we sit down here for a moment and just... watch?” she inquired, since they were right at that one edelweiss fountain she had spotted twice before. Midnight smiled a little, hearing her tone. “I see no reason why they would. Piastan endorsed it. Besides, you’re a welcomed envoy and have you seen the glances your way tonight?” “I’m more focused on the architecture, but... some of them,” she admitted, looking about just a little. “It’s a marked changed since the last time. I still feel a bit out of place, but at least there seems to be far more tolerance. Warmth maybe?” He nodded, confirming her observations. “I think we can take it for good fortune and the providence of the Immaculate Moon...” It was reassuring to hear, naturally. And so Twilight picked a resting place on a simple, marble bench near one of the smaller streams of water, gracefully falling down from a tip of a stone petal. She had to say, it was as graceful of a sculpture as everything about and she wouldn’t have been surprised to actually smell the flower’s delicate scent, so lifelike was it. “This seems like a wonderful place for a bit of respite, and maybe even a prayer or meditation,” she commented, listening in to the constant murmur of running water that seemed to drown out all the remaining sounds of the cavern. Twilight was the more surprised that, in a gigantic space like this, filled with local commotion of nightly life, the Sanctuary gave the impression of solemn silence reigning about. Which was definitely not the case considering the amount of denizens. “Piastan Porost knows what he is saying,” Midnight agreed, having taken place near her, but at a respectful distance. “I don’t think I’ve ever met somepony who would claim that they didn’t experience some of this tranquil aura, arriving at Tuarie.” “Supernatural, almost,” Twilight judged. Especially since, as she witnessed, not far away from this communal space something of a marketplace was organized! Small stalls, filled with various local products, occupied the clearing, like a peculiar exchange point right in a glade of a mighty forest. Wool, woodwork, stonework, jewelry, herbs. The only reason Twilight was not surprised that food and produce were missing from the selection was that Midnight had told her about those being rationed based on a different system. And yet, despite there being commotion and business happening before her very eyes, Twilight could barely hear it, barely feel it disrupting the peace that she felt around her. “There’s something about the Sanctuary that seems to be escaping reasoning...” she said after a while. “And I am enjoying it a lot...” She allowed herself a relaxed smile. Midnight nodded solemnly. “We are taught that this is where we come from, of course. Pierwu Noc, the First Night. The birthplace of our kind and our culture. But there is more here than just some lessons passed down bloodlines. One can feel it. This...” He gestured around. From the tree-like pillars to the distant relief of the Immaculate Moon at the Great Shrine, partially, but still well visible even despite the distance. “To bid dom. This is home.” Twilight so felt like scooping closer and leaning right against him, drinking from his calm and tranquil expression and presence. It was a pity she could not do it, but she could at least let him know how she felt about this sentiment. “I understand, Midnight, and well. I find it very beautiful that you express it so freely.” He kept his cheerful chuckle to himself, presentable like a Nightguard should have been in a public space. But his tone was much warmer, if prudently quiet. “There’s no point in hiding the obvious. The Tuarie is our... ‘cradle’? “Yes, I get what you mean.” “From here we were called by the Goddess at the start of our history. And here, to this day, the most profound decisions are made, as She guides us into our future,” he said, closing his eyes in thoughtfulness. “And, even my mere, uncultured, warrior self appreciates all the significance and the beauty about.” “Uncultured?” Twilight asked, surprised to hear that. He just sighed a little, amused. “Please, Twilight. I’m a warrior. Not a priest, not a philosopher of any sort. I could not possibly fathom the very essence of this place, even if I can experience it, resonating in my heart and soul.” His humility was rather praiseworthy, she thought. But that was not entirely him. “Surely you have your sophistication, however. You’re a Midnight Family defender, not a Fang Family brute, no?” And like the defender he was, he had to withstand the urge to laugh out loud, with his lips shuddering alongside his entire jaw. “P-please, Twilight, have mercy. If you are going to start doing our stereotypes like that I will chuckle. And that will get us more attention,” he warned, yet playfully. “And I’d rather have you all to myself, not to the eyes and ears of any other noctral, you know? Best things happen when nopony can see us...” “And if you don’t stop saying things like that,” she cautioned him right back, trying to look away and focus on something that would make her more tranquil and less.... blushy, “I will be as red as a ripe raspberry.” “Oh. Do you like those?” He at least used her words to change the topic. Or so she thought. “And I mean the fruit, not the thing one does with their lips. Though that gives me certain ideas that I might want to share later.” “Midnight,” she hissed, looking about. “I like the former. The latter I leave for very private, not-right-now discussions, please.” The rascal. At least she knew that even with the Sanctuary’s aura, Midnight was still himself. “Well, we don’t cultivate too much of those, but I know that Family Dusk grows them in some small patches on the higher outskirts of the Dalli,” he revealed this interesting piece of trivia. And it did not take her long to deduce matters from that sentence. “Let me guess... they are not widespread because they are not... practical.” “Somewhat, yes,” Midnight agreed, his eyes locked on the falling water. “What piece of land is proper for producing food must be utilized and treated with the utmost care by our fruittenders. Last thing we can allow ourselves is being wastrels. And whilst raspberries are rather tasty, they do not sustain too well. Small fruit, little liquid, you know?” Twilight nodded, staring into the fountain herself. “That I do. I hope that, even if this upcoming meeting was ‘threatened’ by Lord Blessed Fang, I will be able to continue with my proposition. It would be better for the Lords to all understand that there is nothing dishonoring in entering a fair deal. One that will allow your nation to flourish and not worry about something as fundamental as food supplies.” “There are times I forget how important you are to us all, Twilight, not just to me. And you know how much that is,” he whispered with a small, almost invisible smirk. She so, so wanted to lean onto him and just... stay like that. Together, enjoying a moment of serenity. Disrupted only by a small metallic cling she heard echoing about. Somepony must have dropped something. Maybe they caught themselves staring at her and Midnight? If only things were different. Less taboo. Instead of having a truly romantic moment, Twilight had to make do with drinking from the calmness of this most peaceful segment of the batponies’ holy place. Not that it did not have certain merits to it, but she wouldn’t mind getting something more out of it. Something caught her eye. She wasn’t sure what it was, but... it was there. She blinked. It was still there. It wasn’t a trick of the light, she didn’t think. In the pond. Among the water, disturbed by the fountain’s stream constantly, she spotted a static point. A reflection that remained still. Unfazed by the even the strongest of ripples moving everything else about. She leaned in a little, squinting to see even better. Was she imagining things? No, there it was. As if staring back at her. What was this? “Twilight?” she heard Midnight’s question, but paid it little mind, transfixed as she was by this phenomenon. She just raised her hoof a little to quiet him down, alongside those last few, clinging echoes about her. She kept gazing. Trying to stare deeper even. Mindful not to fall into the water, but... she felt this overwhelming need to read from this illusion... ... or was this another sign? Or two? For when she blinked, another dot joined the one she had already spotted. And then another. Four, then five, then six. Finally seven. In a chaotic, but static pattern, like stars that suddenly manifested themselves among the ripples and the lilies and the liquid. Fallen from their rightful places into shifting, changing chaos and yet retaining order. The same, but different. Two were sparkling, of approval. One shimmered, like impaired. Two blinked, as if in thought. And two flickered. A warning. Was this an omen? How was she to understand it? Those dots were there, not reminding her of anything in particular, not giving her answers other than their... quality? And quantity? But stars should have been up, not in the water... Where their place was, on high. And so she looked to the ceiling above, trying to find something mirroring this augury. There were crystals all over, yes, some smaller, some grandiose, but none in the pattern she was searching for, despite her best efforts. Nor any of them suffered fluctuations of light that meant approval, consideration or... or... Something was there. She thought she heard it, or... She was not certain what. Instead of finding a revelation, she found herself watched. And not by the batponies about the cavern. It felt different. And it wasn’t invoking dread or worry. Quite the opposite. An unseen... force was gazing upon her. She looked for it harder, ready to even flap her wings and fly if needed, to meet the stare of— “Twilight, is everything alright?” Midnight’s voice insisted. Caring. Worried. Enough to draw her away from staring above, from listening. She met his piercing gaze. There were no stars in it, though. Nor in the pond anymore, as she spotted when she glanced that way. She blinked again and the feeling was gone. And the place was silent. “Yes... Yes, I am,” she told him. “Are you sure? You looked very interested in the water suddenly. And the minerals up there,” he inquired, observing her. “It’s... nothing. I thought I saw something,” she replied. For some reason, she did not wish to tell him about it. Whatever that was it... reassured her. Told her to be cautious, but to trust, to look towards the beyond. ... how? Twilight could not tell nor understand. But maybe that was for the better.