//------------------------------// // Verse 41 // Story: The Nightmare Knights Become A Band // by SwordTune //------------------------------// The portal mirror hummed with magical energy flowing through it. Fixed within the library of the Friendship Castle, it drew on the same force that permeated the castle’s walls and powered the Map. It was not the same one, however, that Luna needed. “What is this about?” Starlight asked, poking a hoof into the portal. Luna sighed. “I forget, how much have you heard of the Nightmare Knights before I came to you?” “I remember something about a bird-headed monster and… Stygian? Oh yeah, and Tempest was there too.” Starlight rubbed her chin, deep in thought. “Trixie talks in her sleep but it’s all kind of incoherent.” “Hm, well part of the secret’s out of the bag, then,” Luna sighed. “Yes, Trixie and a few others first formed the Nightmare Knights. We used another mirror portal to cross to an alternate version of our reality, one ruled by its version of the Lord of Chaos.” “Discord?” “Same title, different creature,” Luna clarified. “Eris was her name, and she oversaw a hive of scum and villainy collected from across multiple realities. In her world, I had died as Nightmare Moon. Enslaved, my sister was turned into her enforcer, going by the name Daybreaker and knowing only how to use her power for destruction.” “You mean the fire-hair version of Celestia?” Starlight recalled her nightmares from the last time she had worked with both princesses, after her impulsive idea to swap their cutie marks. “She’s real?” “Yes, and after we defeated Eris, she was free to take over that world.” Luna gazed into the portal, imagining what her alternate sister could be up to at the very moment. “In return, she let us leave. Though if I recall, she promised to destroy me if I returned. Or something like that.” “And that’s why you should probably think this through a little bit more. I’d love to help, but I’m a little allergic to death.” “It’ll be fine,” Luna said. “I think.” “Still, I’m not sure if this is going to work,” Starlight gave the mirror a quick check on all its magical components. “You said you used a different mirror to go to Daybreaker’s reality. Portals can’t be swapped around like that. Why can’t you just use the same mirror that you used before?” “It might be broken,” Luna answered sheepishly. “And by that I mean it is definitely broken. We did not want anything crossing between our realms, so Stygian took a piece from the mirror for safekeeping. I could ask him for it, but he would want to get involved, and he has already been through enough.” “I remember,” Starlight nodded. “I still don’t think we can open a new portal from here, but we can give it a shot. Twilight already managed to enhance the portal once, so maybe we can do it again.” Luna beamed. “Yes! I like that plan. What would we need?” “Another piece of the original mirror, for a start,” Starlight said. “Stygian only took one piece from it, right?” “Another fragment? Shouldn’t be a problem.” The knocking on the throne room door startled Princess Twilight awake. She was so familiar to her throne that falling asleep in it was now effortless. It had to be. Naps throughout the day kept her schedule manageable. After nearly a year, she had gotten used to the rhythm of ponies coming to the palace and asking her to pass down judgement. Most of the requests were for immediate solutions. When town councils were slow to create a budget to repair dams, a royal decree provided the funds. When ponies could not decide where to place a new school for a village’s growing population, a royal decree granted the land. At first, she expected to deal with issues of friendship on a national scale. And sometimes, she did. But those interesting adventures were packed between long lulls of legislation. She looked down at the request placed in her hooves. Spike had left for the Dragon Lands as soon as she had settled the weather conference. Twilight wished she could keep him by her side, but his mission was too important to pass up. He needed to help the Dragonlord oversee the construction of new reservoirs and canals for the rain that would arrive later in the year. His absence only made her appreciate the rest of her staff more, especially Raven Inkwell. There was no doubt in Twilight’s mind that the white-coated brunette was more experienced with royal affairs than her. She had been Celestia’s aide, and more than once protected Equestria’s future with nothing more than correct paperwork. The request she had left at Twilight’s throne was part of the reason she had to take a nap in the first place. The Equestrian Integration Act, or EIA, was being pushed back by a great number of ponies in Canterlot. “Princess?” Raven poked her head through the throne room door. “Are you ready to receive more guests?” Twilight quickly rubbed her face and pressed down her mane. Without a mirror, she could only hope she looked presentable enough. “Yes, always,” she told Raven. She slumped in her throne as soon as the doors were closed again. It would take a few minutes for the ponies to come in, and in that time she needed to figure out what she wanted to say. On paper, the EIA sounded perfect. The law would grant Equestrian citizenship to foreign residents if they wanted. But once Canterlot’s residents arrived in the throne room, the concerns flooded in. Most of them were there simply to complain, repeating the same words previous petitioners had said. But among this group were a few prominent figures of Canterlot society, including Celestia’s ward, Blueblood. “The law is too lax!” one stallion said. “Griffonstone is little more than a garbage heap. I guarantee countless griffons are going to abuse this law if you pass it.” An older mare, dressed in a wide-brimmed sun hat and silk gown, stomped and brayed louder. “I don’t care how strict you make it. Now, I have nothing against the other kingdoms, but Equestria’s culture has to be protected. We risk losing our identity if any creature can be called Equestrian.” And those were the easy ones. Twilight simply reminded them that Equestria’s founding principles were of unity over divisions. There was a time when unicorns, earth ponies, and pegasi were considered too different to live together. Now a single word, “pony,” described all of them at once. “The law will invite more foreign residents,” complained a recognizable voice. Twilight only knew Blueblood from hearing his passing conversations around the palace, but he carried an unmistakable arrogance with him. “Non-Equestrians currently make up two per cent of our population,” he continued. “It’s a fine number, and a few more talented hippogriffs certainly wouldn’t hurt the banks. But open our lands up to every creature, and soon every griffon and their family will be looking to plant their nests in our trees. The housing market cannot sustain that many new creatures.” “Why Blueblood,” Twilight flashed a sharp smile, “how kind of you to begin taking an interest in Equestria’s affairs. Between impulsive tuxedo purchasing and perfume testing, it’s certainly a surprise to see you here.” “I grew up as a ward of the crown,” he retorted. “I have always had an interest in our great nation. Although, until Celestia stepped down, I assumed all was in good hooves.” Twilight rolled her eyes and muttered to herself. “You can do this. Just be strong.” She rose from her throne, her wings spread far apart to impose her authority over the rest of the ponies. “Then we will have more homes built. Trading with the other kingdoms has made Equestria stronger. But if money is so important, remember that more creatures will mean more customers, and more bits added into our economy.” That settled a number of the plaintiffs, Blueblood included. However, they were not all impressed. Twilight recognized another face, a white-maned stallion she had hosted during the last royal Hearth’s Warming dinner. The stallion was the president of a worker’s union, and he was no less influential than the old noble families in Canterlot. “Griffons don’t come to Equestria to spend bits, Princess,” he called out. “My guys think this is coming too soon, Princess. You have a new citizenship law for the modern era, but what about immigration? Our policies haven’t changed since Celestia wrote them one thousand years ago.” “Those policies continue to work fine,” Twilight explained. “Why would your union have a problem with them?” “Because there are no limitations,” he argued. “Sure, a thousand years ago not a lot of creatures were coming to Equestria, but now that’s different. If you can’t put limits, I can’t support this citizenship law knowing that griffons and dragons are going to be taking honest jobs from hard-working ponies.” “Would you prefer if they took dishonest jobs?” Twilight tilted her head, her eyes narrowing on the stallion. “I’ll say this once, so all of you listen and tell your friends. I am not going to stop creatures who want to come to Equestria. Don’t you remember the last time we faced a magical threat?” “Oh yes, Princess,” Blueblood rolled his eyes, “once again the day was saved from three sinister villains thanks to the ‘power of friendship.’” Twilight frowned. “I was talking about the Crystal Empire. Shadows of an ancient evil rose to test the strength of our borders. It was the division between yaks, ponies, and dragons that weakened the Crystal Heart. Do you want to repeat that mistake?” The throne room fell silent. Saying “yes” was not an option, but none of the plaintiffs was willing to back down by saying no. “Peace,” Blueblood said, taking the lead, “is all well and good. But not every pony wants to be a champion for the world. How much will other ponies have to pay or a responsibility they did not ask for?” Raven Inkwell interjected with a ring of a small bell and a blank smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that’s all the time for this appointment. Please exit the throne room.” The halls’ echoes were quiet compared to the throne room. It was a welcomed quiet as she followed the shortest path to her bedroom. A nap would not be enough. Raven followed closely behind the Princess, writing something quickly in her notebook. “Unfortunately this is going to cut into your schedule,” she told the Princess. “Although I’m sure it’s worth it. You’ll have to reschedule your photoshoot for the Canterlot Gazette.” “That’s fine,” she replied. “I don’t think I’m ready to have my picture taken anyway. Can you walk with me, Raven?” “Of course. Something on your mind?” “What isn’t?” The Princess laughed. “When did Blueblood become… whatever it is we saw back there? As far as I knew, all he cared about was what he saw in the nearest mirror.” “You’ve changed the world quite a bit,” Raven said. “I think a lot of ponies are just trying to figure out how they fit in it now that Equestria’s not the centre of the world anymore. Being raised as a ward of the Crown, Blueblood does have some influence in Canterlot. After your coronation, he used his status to become an entrepreneur.” “In what?” “Real estate.” Twilight paused. “So that’s why he brought up… ugh!” She took a deep breath, letting the frustration come in, and then wash its way out. “I bet he doesn’t even have a problem with the law. He just wants to get something out of it.” “Him and the others,” Raven nodded solemnly. “Ponies might not have an issue with you on the throne, but you’re not Celestia. I think they see you as a weaker leader, which creates opportunity in their eyes.” “We’ll just have to prove them wrong, then,” Twilight said. “Your Highness?” Raven raised a brow. Twilight smiled. “Oh, don’t be so humble. Equestria would fall apart if I didn’t have you to help me.” “That’s very kind of you, Princess. I’d like to think that this is more than a job— wait, do you hear that?” Raven turned her ear to the end of the hall, to Twilight’s bedroom. Both mares held the breath, waiting for any sound. And there was one, rattling through the room’s double doors with heavy thuds. “Where could it have gone?” A muffled voice cried out. “It wasn’t in the basement, it wasn’t in the vaults. It wasn’t even in the library, and she loves putting things there!” “S-should I call the guards?” Raven’s voice quivered. Twilight ignited her horn with a glowing magical aura. “No. I’m sure I can handle this.” She stormed up to her bedroom. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I have had a very long day, so consider this your final warning!” She burst through, horn lowered with a spell charged and prepared to fire, while Raven followed closely behind and covered her head with her notebook. Both mares charged straight into a barrier of floating pillows and bookcases, tumbling forward as they popped through a levitation field. “Ah!” Luna jumped and dropped everything she was doing. Or rather, everything she was searching through. “Twilight! What are you doing here?” “Luna?” Twilight’s face twisted in confusion. “This is my bedroom! What are you doing here?” The books and papers strewn across the floor made the scene look nothing more than a break-in. Even the fuzzy velvet rug in the middle of the room had been pulled up in search of some item that could be hidden underneath. There was, of course, a perfectly reasonable explanation. And whatever it was, Luna didn’t have it. She shrugged her hooves up in an uncertain surrender. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to go to an alternate universe?”