It was one of those moments that for no real reason, had always stuck in Luna’s mind. Some business or another had led her to be visiting the Crystal Empire and she’d needed to speak with the newly-enthroned Empress Lamplight and had been directed to an icecutter’s settlement on the Snowbell Sea called Glacierfast. She found the empress, who was just barely old enough to qualify as a mare, standing at the edge of the frigid sea on one of the floating docks that was used during the summer months for fishing, and looking over the packed sea-ice.
“What do you think, General?” the empress had asked as Luna approached her, her accent tinged with the Imperial quirk of pronouncing all vowels as a long ‘a’ but even more distinctively Stalliongradi.
“Concerning what?” Luna had asked, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to work out what the mare was looking at.
“The bay,” Lamplight said, gesturing vaguely at the way the coastline formed a deep concave and rocky cliffs jutting out into the water. “Deep enough to be a natural harbor anywhere else.”
“It’s a very good natural formation,” Luna said. “Unfortunately, it’s ice-locked.”
“Not during the summer.” Lamplight had hummed thoughtfully. “I had an advisor--friend of my mother’s, as a point of fact--suggest to me that it may be possible to build a ship that can break through heavy sea-ice.”
“I’m sure that’s possible, Empress, but how would you propel it with enough force to push through?”
“I don’t know,” Lamplight said. “Yet. But I like the idea. It’s visionary, worthy of an empress, the sort of thing that…”
“...history would expect of Matchlight’s daughter?”
Lamplight nodded. “The Begger Empress brought every poor pony in from the cold, wrapped them in her own blanket, and fed them from her own table. That stone is already rolling downhill and no one is going to seriously give me credit when it arrives at the bottom. So I gotta set my own stone rolling and this would be a really good one to push.”
Luna smiled at that. “I suppose if a beggar can sit on the throne, her daughter can part the Snowbell Sea. So what would you call this miraculous vessel?”
“I’m glad you asked, General.” Lamplight’s eyes twinkled. “I’ve actually been thinking about that, ever since mother’s old friend stopped by to see me. How does the name ‘Dawnbreaker’ sound to you?”
It had always been to her intense regret that the christening of the Dawnbreaker by a then-elderly Lamplight had coincided with one of her various peacekeeping campaigns in the Provinces--then being menaced by the surge of raiders that always accompanied the crowning of a new Storm King--and Tia had gone in her place. She’d seen the vessel since, always at a distance, weighing anchor at the mouth of the river leading to Equestrian ports because it was too large to safely enter but the awe-inspiring sight on the horizon had nothing on watching the immense warship gliding into the port city that Glacierfast had become.
It was a massive construct, even larger than the titanic Very Large Carriers of Cargo the Empire had built over the years after completing Dawnbreaker. It was powered by hundreds of ponies that were each at least the size and build of the rugged ploughponies of the old-blood farming families, like the Apples and the Carrots, if not a bit larger. The pullers, consigned to grueling manual labor before the revolution led by Empress Matchlight, were Lamplight’s answer to Luna’s question of how such a magnificent ice-breaker could be powered.
“How is it possible?” Nacht breathed. “Where did they get the cladding? The timbers? And how are they propelling it?”
“The timbers were special-order from Du Sylvi,” Luna said. “It’s why the Dawnbreaker wasn’t commissioned for decades, because it took that long to grow the special trees that were needed. It’s propelled by two shafts driven by about three hundred pullers each. As to the cladding, though… I have no idea. We asked but the only thing we could get from Lamplight was that her family friend had made the arrangements.”
“That friend must have had a bunch of reach to get enough metal to clad a ship like that,” Thalia said. “Did you ever meet him?”
“Her,” Luna said. “And yes, I did. Imperial field marshal named Light Shadow. She struck me as being extremely young to have been a dear friend of Matchlight but her mannerisms and accent were from the right time period for it to work. I had the distinct impression that she was very popular in the Imperial military but nothing about her explained her long reach.”
“I imagine it didn’t back then,” Nacht said.
Luna furrowed her brow slightly and looked at her. “Has… something changed since then?”
“Well, she sat down and had a conversation with you, didn’t she?” Nacht said. “In the Archive.”
“What are you talking about, Nacht? Penumbra…” And then she stopped. Penumbra. Light Shadow. “...oh.”
She would normally have hesitated to make the leap but Penumbra and Light Shadow being the same pony connected too many things to be a red herring. Penumbra had shown every sign of knowing her, the way that a gregarious and friendly colleague might after decades of association. Light Shadow had always appeared strangely young, and yet had the mannerisms and reach of an elderly mare who had been developing connections over a long lifetime. Penumbra had gone out of her way to make Luna comfortable, and most of their conversation had been a discussion completely unrelated to the message she had intended to send. Light Shadow was known and admired for being a mare of very simple desires and very modest ambitions, despite having been elevated to the personal and trusted advisor of many emperors and empresses. Finally and most damning, Penumbra had called the Crystal Heart the only artifact she had any right to because it represented her love of her home, and Light Shadow’s unabashed patriotism and love of the Empire was famous.
“I suppose she as much as told me who she was,” Luna said after a moment. “It’s incredible to me that Tia and I spent so much time around her, and never even suspected. She remained in her post for nearly 200 years, and the only thought I can remember having was that she seemed strangely young for her position. The magic to accomplish that must have been astonishingly complex.”
“It must have been,” Nacht said. “But also, it’s kind of long passed. I’m curious about where that ship is returning from and why it was gone in the first place.”
“What I wonder is whether it’s been sitting out there in the frozen Snowbell this entire time.”
“You never looked?”
Luna looked at Thalia. “We had no reason to. Glacierfast is in the far north-east of the Empire and when we searched in vain for anyone who had escaped the spell’s reach, we naturally stuck close to the Empire’s borders.”
“Predictable response,” Thalia said.
“Yes, which implies that it was sailed out of the search range deliberately…”
“...and that whoever sailed it knew that the spell was coming,” Nacht concluded.
“Hey Princess?”
Luna looked up to see Rainbow gliding in from high above. “Did you see any sign of your friends?”
“Nope.” Rainbow alighted and folded her wings along her sides. “But there’s another two really big ships behind the first one.”
“A pair of VLCCs trailing the Dawnbreaker?”
Rainbow shrugged. “Yeah I guess, if VLCCs means the really big ships behind the one with the weird hull.”
“Well, I guess that settles that,” Thalia said. “Not only does someone take one ship outside of where you’d be looking, they took three. That kind of thing doesn’t just happen.”
“If it wasn’t about to berth, I’d ask one of the dock scribes,” Luna said. She looked off to a side at all the ponies that had been gathering at the waterfront, none of them acknowledging the presence of herself or any of her companions, although a few glanced their way.
“You could ask the dockmaster.”
“He’s about to be very busy,” Luna said, pointing at the older-looking stallion who was gesturing and yelling something at a few dozen dock workers, and getting quick salutes and gestures of acknowledgement as they went to their tasks. “And I’ve never met an Imperial citizen who stops what they’re doing to genuflect before me or Tia. Nothing wrong with their manners, they just don’t see a need to treat a foreign dignitary as if they were their Empress or Emperor.”
“They’re like us in that respect,” Thalia said. “Though we’d be more reverential. Was the Empire ever under Equestrian rule?”
“Never,” Luna said as she watched Dawnbreaker start to turn towards its special drydock berth on the side of the bay she and the others had chosen to stand. “The Empire started as a project of the du Arctis family, building a family estate in the region they were most comfortable in, the way that du Closs built Tempesthaven, du Aquis established themselves in the Drainlands, and so on. The discovery of thick veins of mana-sensitive crystals under their claimed lands allowed them to expand considerably and draw more settlers until a noble family became a royal family, and an estate became a city, became many cities, and eventually became an empire.” She smiled a little. “Or so they decided to call it for whatever reason.”
“And the Heart?”
“No one really knows,” Luna said. “My and Tia’s belief was always that they’d cut it out of an extremely magically-dense vein, possibly one in the direct path of a lei line, and spending years in the midst of changelings infused it with an echo of your people’s unique magical characteristic. Wherever it came from, though, any form of elemental magic which includes the powers of elemental powers like windnegos shatters against its protection like glass beads against plate armor.”
“And you never tried to secure it, given it was that powerful?”
“The Heart is special,” Nacht said. “It alters the mind on a deeply fundamental level, psychically burning away evil impulses directly related to itself. The theory of Celestia and Selune was that a lifetime of exposure to it led to the emperors and empresses being consistently good--and Night White’s parents being extremely cosmopolitan and traveling extensively through his early life is why he thought it would be a fine idea to declare himself king and come up with a deeply puerile name for himself like ‘Sombra’.”
“Which makes ya wonder how Penny gets it to do bad things,” Rainbow said. “If it sets her brain on fire and makes her be a good lil filly, how does she use it to mess things up?”
“I can only suppose that she is so thoroughly convinced of the rightness of her intent that the desire to use the Heart to carry it out must not register as evil or an impulse.” Luna shrugged. “Or her particular evil is so unconventional that the Heart doesn’t understand it. The pseudo-sapience of extremely powerful artifacts is not distinct for creativity. Translating it to true sapience, giving the magic the capacity to reason, seems to need at least a thousand years of associating with reasoning beings.”
“Or being purpose-formed to resonate with a living Bearer,” Nacht said.
“Or that.” Luna looked over at Rainbow. “Rainbow, I have a somewhat… strange thing to ask you.”
“Do I talk to my Element sometimes?”
Luna blinked. “Um, yes, that’s what I was…”
“Sure.” Rainbow shrugged. “She’s cool.”
Luna and Nacht both stared blankly at her. “She’s… cool.”
“I mean…” Rainbow shrugged again. “What else would she be?”
“I…” Luna sighed. “I can’t even be surprised. Of course you would be the one to consciously chat with the magical construct that’s entwined with your being.”
“It does explain your impulsive nature,” Nacht said. “Your imaginary friend is encouraging you.”
Rainbow snorted. “Are ya deaf? She’s cool. Cool people tell their friends not to do stupid things, and only go along if their friends aren’t listening, cuz they’re cool.”
“And the fundamental nature of Loyalty is to be loyal.” Nacht nodded. “Well, as interesting as this is, pretty sure we’re about to find out what the buck three Imperial ships were doing in the middle of the Snowbell when the hammer fell.”
“But the Dawnbreaker just started its approach.” Luna turned to look again and found that the immense warship had dropped anchor short of its berth and a large stair had been wheeled up to its bow which protruded considerably forward of the ship’s hull. Ponies in the distinctive uniform of the empire--burgundy under large grey greatcoats trimmed with white faux fur--were already walking down the stairs, pullers based on their large frames. As she watched, dockponies were sliding large pontoons into the water and affixing slats to them, extending floating docks to the side of the ship so more gangplanks could be wheeled over.
“They seem really fixated on getting ponies off that ship fast,” Thalia said. “Maybe whoever’s on board is on a time limit?”
“If Penumbra wasn’t a dearly-loved field marshal of the Empire, I could imagine that the three incoming ships were warned that she was up to something,” Luna said. “But the soldiers do love her; I remember it from every military collaboration I participated in. The chances of Penumbra needing to hurry to accomplish things seems remote, especially since she had the time to just sit and drink with me while doing a villain monologue.”
“Space we can recover.” Luna jumped a little and turned her head sharply towards the sound of Penumbra’s voice, and the mare was just… there. Her arrival had been totally silent and hadn’t even brushed against Luna’s magical sense, which was worrying in and of itself, but Penumbra--Light Shadow--also exuded a sense of fearless calm as if she wasn’t standing within easy reach of Luna, much less Nacht. “Time, never.”
Still wearing her battlemagi kit, Penumbra had added the field marshal uniform that Luna was familiar with--scarlet and green trimmed with gold thread, a white snowflake with a star on each point to represent her rank, a black cap with a golden star on its front--and Luna felt a sharp spike of pain in her temples. She closed her eyes briefly as she winced, and when she had opened them again, Penumbra was the Light Shadow that Luna remembered, a charcoal-coated mare with a silky white mane she wore just a little bit too long to be strictly regulation.
“I sincerely apologize for the discomfort that the normalization enchantment causes,” Light said. “Ordinarily it wouldn’t have any such effect but you know what’s beneath the glamor so the dissonance causes a brief spike of pain while your perception is aligned with the illusion. Before you start being astonished that I’m casually breaching your profound mental defenses against such manipulation of your mind, the magic acts purely on your senses rather than trying to deceive your mind. Thus the momentary pain: the senses object rather enthusiastically to being overwhelmed.”
“If you were all that sincere, you wouldn’t have presented yourself as a young zebra mare when projecting the illusion to speak with Selune.” Nacht’s gaze swept over the disguised zebricorn. “I can see now that I was mistaken about you. I had privately thought you a mere vessel of Sotto Voce; instead you are to him what this flesh is to me, except you are a complete individual. Phyrrus’ work is marvelous to behold, and it is indeed his. He has many servants with unique gifts, but even the most uniquely gifted artisan pales before a true master.”
Penumbra’s expression became more discomforted as Nacht spoke and by the end, she was looking genuinely uncertain. “That is… interesting. Do you have a point, Empress?”
“Only that the Reaper gave you a unique opportunity, and I wonder if your cause is really important enough to risk it.”
“To exist is not living Empress,” Penumbra said. “And merely living is a waste of a life. I have refused the sword for too long, and wasted thousands of years in my folly. My causes--and there is more than one--are all enough to die for.”
“Shattering the yoke?”
Penumbra nodded. “That among many others. More history will follow my success than will precede it, and there are numerous things that will need doing in the centuries afterwards.”
“What about Night White?” Luna said.
“He has helpfully provided me the best possible cause to gather every spear in the Empire and march on the capital.” Her expression became grave. “He closed the poor houses.”
“That seems petty and heartless but…”
“It’s more.” Luna looked at Penumbra. “I don’t have the most broad grasp of Imperial history and culture, but I know that since Empress Matchlight--who is still reverently referred to as the Begger Empress--the poor houses are a fixture of Imperial culture.”
Penumbra nodded. ”As it is often said, the Begger Empress brought every poor pony in from the cold, wrapped them in her own blanket, and fed them from her own table. Matchlight was not the saintly creature of boundless giving that she is remembered as--we regarded one another as dear friends, I know of her flaws better than anyone--but that saying about her is not an exaggeration.”
“It was also a brilliant decision,” Luna said. “Her charity towards the ‘pullers’ endeared her to the common citizen and laid the foundation for Lamplight to build her own great work upon.”
“I was very proud of her for that,” Penumbra said. “She had already struck before I discerned that the iron was hot, and embracing the ploughponies meant that by the time of Night White, every town and city had a guard composed entirely of ‘pullers’ and things were very peaceful for it.”
“Because the pullers were good colts and fillies from the same neighborhoods?” Since Penumbra had appeared, Luna had lost track of the fact that Rainbow was even still there but her making the remark just above Luna’s head dispelled that illusion thoroughly.
“Because imagine trying to stand up to a half-dozen ponies with the size and build of Big Macintosh Apple looming over you.”
“Yeah, I get what you’re saying.” Rainbow rolled a little in midair and looked at Penumbra upside-down. “Yanno, the final boss is a ton more impressive in comic books.”
“Comic books are a medium of grand and dynamic narratives.” Light Shadow looked out across the harbor. “The villains can’t be the type who have one grand scheme and whose intentions after that are to build a little cottage by the sea and live a peaceful life; that would be boring. That is why I am not so impressive as those villains, Rainbow Dash.”
“Well, yer buddy put Gilda in one of those screwed-up griffin things he was building,” Rainbow said, her tone casual but her fuchsia eyes suddenly hard, with a predatory focus. “And I’m gonna go out on a limb here, but I think the one who hurt Flutters works for you too. I don’t know where those two are so I can’t kick their plots, but you’re right here.”
Penumbra smiled and then looked up at her. “Applejack Apple couldn’t kick my plot, Rainbow, but you have the right to do your very best. However correct I believe my actions to be, my plans have hurt those you care about. It is only right that you break your hoof off in my scheming plot.”
Rainbow grinned and tapped her hooves together. “Yup.”
Ever since first meeting Big Macintosh Apple, Twilight had been certain that the towering stallion was unique. She’d seen the Apple Family gather for reunions, for holidays, and for other occasions and the quiet stallion always stood out even among the solid ploughponies that seemed to comprise at least three quarters of Applejack’s extended family. Getting on the deck of the Dawnbreaker to find hundreds of tall, heavily-muscled ponies very much like Big Mac waiting had been a disconcerting experience to say the very least.
For Twilight, at least. Applejack just seemed faintly surprised before grinning from ear to ear, Dawn was being her normal shameless self, Pinkamena seemed delighted, and Rarity was clearly awestruck. Penumbra’s reaction was to walk up to one of them and throw her forelegs around him in a crushing embrace, which the stallion was quite clearly happy to return.
“At has ban taa lang,” he rumbled to her.
“It has,” Penumbra agreed. “Are you prepared, Commodore?”
“Waa aare saar,” he said. “What as yaar cammand?”
“Signal the Constance and the Vigilance,” Penumbra said. “Return to Glacierfast at best speed. There, disembark and make ready to march on the capital to restore our empire’s honor.”
The stallion saluted her. “A haar and abay.” He turned and began shouting commands to other ponies, who immediately saluted in turn and hurried to whatever tasks he’d assigned them; with the extremely odd manner of speech, Twilight was having trouble following the words being exchanged.
“They seemed pretty quick ta hop to whe ya told them to do things,” Applejack said.
Penumbra shrugged. “I outrank them.”
“Outrank ‘em.” Applejack eyed her. “So that makes ya a…?”
“Field marshal.”
Applejack gaped at her, and she wasn’t the only one. “Ya’all are a field marshal. Ta some empire we’ve never heard of. Who’d ya have ta kill?”
Penumbra’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, Miss Apple. My stars are the work of decades, and they were given to me by one of our greatest empresses. I will not have you speak ill of her in my presence and tolerate it.”
“She wasn’t just your empress,” Pinkamena said.
“That is true, she was not just my empress,” Penumbra said, giving Pinkamena a nod. “Matchlight was a dear friend and an admirable pony. I was sad to lay her to rest, although the entire Empire mourned when she passed and it was the first time I felt able to grieve with others instead of stand apart and mark down yet another mortal I had outlived.”
“Didja, though?” Dawn said. “You called that ghost at the front of the ship ‘Matchlight.’”
“And the match you struck,” Rarity said. “The moment you did, I was with my family at my grandmother’s house for a family reunion. One of my happiest memories. The matches that the little match-filly struck trying to keep warm showed her visions of safety, comfort, peace, and happiness, according to the story, and the ghost you called ‘Matchlight’ said that the match you struck was one of hers.”
“Yes you are both correct,” Penumbra said. “A great many fanciful stories grew up around her after her passing because of the fondness the populace had for her. The fundamentals of the tale are true, but Matchlight obviously did not freeze to death on a street corner.”
“So that spirit was Matchlight.”
“It was.”
“How?” Twilight said. “She was clearly a coherent presence with her own personality and power, yet she was also not alive.”
“I honestly do not know,” Penumbra said. “I bid her farewell, saw her buried, joined in the mourning, consoled her daughter Lamplight… and the next time I visited her grave, she was counting the bundles of flowers that had been left and wiping away tears of happiness that so many of her people really did love her. She never told me how it had happened, or why, but some force beyond my understanding had bound her to the Empire itself, to act as its guardian spirit. We have both speculated over the years that it was something in the nature of the Crystal Heart but the joy of the nation that one of their greatest and most beloved empresses stood vigil as their guardian washed away any drive to understand how such a thing could be.”
“So… the whole lot of ‘em knew?”
“Some knew--principally her Bell Watch, which she founded during her lifetime--but she was hypersensitive to the possibility that her proven presence could cast a pall over her successors and she allowed the tale of the spirit of the Begger Empress lingering to bless and protect her people become an article of faith rather than sure knowledge. Despite her best efforts, the legend of Matchlight being the guardian spirit of the Crystal Empire became something that Imperial citizens accepted as truth rather than a mere story.”
“She’s more than a guardian spirit,” Twilight said.
Penumbra’s curious look was just enough that Twilight felt that she was exaggerating it. “What do you mean?”
“You told her that her vigil was over and the danger was passed, and requested permission to call her watch to service.” Twilight paused as the next logical step slotted into place. “It was her, wasn’t it? She removed the Empire from the flow of time, kept others from finding it. She was keeping the sea frozen and all the rest.” She paused and her eyes widened as she realized what she was saying. “...but… how?”
“She was an empress, even after her death,” Penumbra said. “Her people still believed in her and looked up to her, even as they invested their faith, love, and trust in the emperors and empresses that followed her. Faith is powerful, Twilight Sparkle; just ask your mother and your aunt. But love, especially to a changeling, especially to a monarch of changelings, is power and especially so in the Crystal Empire.”
“She could stop you.”
“If she wanted to do that, she would have ignored the rite.” Penumbra smiled. “I could have done nothing about that, for all my power. Just one of those strange little tidbits of history: had I not embraced and befriended a ragged little filly with the determination to take the crown and succor her people despite centuries of tradition, all of what I am doing would be impossible. Friendship really is magic.”
“An’ that’s why ya looked at me like ya could kill when Ah impugned the field marshal thing,” Applejack said. “Bein’ field marshal was a gift from yer best friend.”
“Something I earned honestly as well,” Penumbra said, “but it was also a gift from someone very dear to me and I have always been the very model of what the Empire requires of her field marshals.”
“Which is?”
“Coldness,” Penumbra said. “Ruthlessness. The capacity to consider the unthinkable. The willingness to do what is needed for victory. The intelligence to know what that thing is, and the moral strength to watch ten thousand die to save ten million, and never shed a tear.” She looked at Twilight and then at Dawn. “Your aunt could explain far better than I, and with vivid examples. She pitted changelings against massive, armored, ancient fire-breathing magical beings to impose the Pax Equestria on the dragons, and I promise that required many sacrifices.”
Twilight very deliberately avoided thinking about the implications, but Penumbra’s matter-of-fact tone made her shudder a little. “So what do you plan to sacrifice?”
“To depose White Light, the so-called ‘King Sombra’?” Penumbra smiled. “Very little. He is a fisher king atop a cold throne without…”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Penumbra’s smile fell and she looked away. “A thousand years of time I could have lived, loved, and laughed in my beloved Empire. Certain individual ponies, a very great number of lives, and a part of the soul of all ponykind.”
“That sounds very chilling but isn’t very clear,” Pinkamena said. “You can bat us aside, why don’t you want to name the ponies you’ll hurt?”
“Because I already hurt one, and I didn’t want to.” Twilight couldn’t be sure from her angle but the working of the muscles along her jaw made her think the zebicorn had clenched her teeth. “She was not meant to be hurt, none of you were. It happens that it furthers my purpose but this was not part of the plan.”
“‘Fraid that kinda thing happens when ya start doin’ evil, ma’am,” Applejack said with a touch of venom in her tone. “So who’d ya hurt?”
“You…” Penumbra sighed. “You’ll see. Just be patient, Miss Apple, I think you’ll take some pleasure in what happens when we reach Glacierfast.” She glanced at them. “You all will, to different degrees.”
Applejacked snorted. “Yeah? What’s waitin’ in this Glacierfast place, a good old fashioned whuppin’?”
Penumbra snorted as well, but with amusement. “As a matter of fact, yes, that is precisely what is waiting. One thing I’ve learned over thousands of years, Applejack, is that there are times when the only way to settle something is to walk out of the saloon, kick off your shoes, and start hitting. There’s just something about pain and blood, and inflicting it on someone else, and having someone else inflict it on you, that is… honest. Like something has been really and truly settled, and sometimes like a thorn that you didn’t notice has been pulled out of a festering wound. I really should have given you that pleasure yourself, but when the size of a filly, I am as fragile as a filly… and you were really not in control of yourself.”
Applejack blinked. “Ya serious?”
“Of course I am. Upon reflection, I provoked you as hard as I possibly could have and gave you no satisfaction for that outrage.” She shrugged and looked away again. “Maybe I should have assumed a more adult form sooner and gave you at least one hit to…”
Applejack hit her just as she was turning her head slightly to look over her shoulder.
Given that she was very accustomed to it, she could have easily turned on a dime and delivered the double-hoof buck that left impressive dents in apple trees and had shattered Spite’s jaw when she’d surprised them; that she merely threw a haymaker with all of her weight behind it was a mercy, Twilight supposed as the entire thing seemed to play out in slow motion before her.
There was a sharp snap as Penumbra’s head was jerked in the opposite direction from the impact and the rest of her followed, stumbling, trying to retain her footing, and then collapsing onto her side. She lay there for several moments, her jaw hanging loosely as blood started dripping from her mouth, and her eyes were unfocused before the life returned to them and she looked up at Applejack. At that point, Twilight became acutely aware of where they were: on the deck of a ship full of soldiers all of whom regarded Penumbra as their superior officer and had all stopped what they were doing to gape at the sight before them.
Penumbra worked her mouth a little and spat blood on the deck before grinning widely, her already-swelling lip and jaw oozing blood even more as she did. “Ya hat lak a pallar garl,” she said, rolling and pulling herself unsteadily to her feet.
Apparently, this meant something to the crew around her because the gaping looks turned to grins and vigorous stomping that sounded like…
“Am I imagining things or are they…?”
“Applauding Applejack when she just floored their superior officer?” Munin finished. “Yes, I think that’s exactly what they’re doing. I wish they’d speak that odd dialect a little more, it’s hard to work out what they’re saying.”
“I think what Penumbra said was ‘you hit like a puller girl’.”
“What the hay is a puller?”
“Context would suggest that the crew are pullers.” Twilight frowned at the thought. “A sort of utilitarian name for them.”
“Considering that comparing her to them seems to be evoking great enthusiasm, it’s clearly not insulting.”
“True.” Twilight watched as the part of the crew that weren’t resuming their duties came clomping up to Applejack, looking her up and down appraisingly but the interest struck Twilight as friendly rather than suspicious.
“What famaly, garl?” One of them asked after a moment.
Applejack grinned widely. “Apple, born an’ bred!”
“Apple?” The one repeated, looking over his shoulder.
The others thought a moment before one stomped a hoof. “Apple! Lak Ald Red!”
This occasioned excited discussion, most of which Twilight couldn’t follow properly because of the strange dialect, but the conclusion seemed to be that Applejack being from the same family as “Ald Red” was an occasion for celebration because the very surprised farmpony was hoisted on several shoulders and carried towards one of the open hatches; with the gestured invitation of one of the ponies, Twilight followed the abruptly jovial procession and her friends followed her.
The hour or so that followed was surprisingly pleasant. Applejack hitting like a puller seemed to endear her to them and her being from an old farming family was deeply meaningful for reasons she could barely guess at. After getting used to the dialect of the Imperial ponies, she found them easy to communicate with and extremely friendly and welcoming.
She was sitting in the galley with Dawn and sipping a deliciously sweet-sour beverage that seemed to be standard fare when Penumbra reappeared, looking none the worse for wear after having been flattened by Applejack, and sat across from her.
“The pullers are well on their way to regarding her as one of them,” she said. “That is a very significant thing in the Empire.”
“They’re the ones that haul the ships, right?”
“Yes,” Penumbra said. “Lamplight’s solution to the quandary posed to her by Princess Luna: from whence would come the propulsion to drive an icebreaker? Her mother had embraced the pullers, lifted them from grinding serfdom, presented them as the living embodiment of the...”
“Grinding serfdom?” Twilight interrupted, frowning at the zebricorn.
“Yes,” Penumbra said. “It is not a very proud time in the Empire’s history, binding settlers from the great farming families of Equestra to the land they worked and demanding hard, thankless labor to enrich certain nobility. Emperors and empresses gritted their teeth and tolerated it because for a very long time, the only way to make the Empire solvent was to apply the heavy muscle and towering frames of rugged ploughponies to various problems. Eventually, it became an institution.”
“Then came Matchlight.”
“Actually, then came Red Apple who is adoringly remembered as Old Red.” Penumbra smiled. “Largest pony I’ve ever seen alive, afflicted with some form of gigantism such that he towered over even the largest puller of his time.”
Dawn snorted. “So what’d he do, put the lot of ‘em through walls one giant kick at a time?”
“He was a symbol,” Penumbra said. “A towering, stoic monument to the proud, hard-working ponies of old family bloodlines dating back to the founding of Equestria. He gave Matchlight a living example to point to as the epitome of the common, ordinary citizen quietly doing their best without praise or reward. Even so long after his passing, he is so important to the pullers that Applejack being from his extended family made them feel a close kinship with her.”
“And she hits like a puller.”
Penumbra grinned. “Yes she does.” Her grin vanished and she looked over in the direction of Applejack. “She asked for specifics earlier, and I denied her. She will learn at the same time Rarity and Pinkamena do, but I think it important that you be aware of who I harmed without intending to.”
“Rainbow.”
“I was totally uninvolved in that, as were any of my hirelings.” Penumbra sighed. “Your friend Fluttershy confronted Zambet alone, not knowing who or what she was, and directed the full power of her Element at her. Suffice to say, it did not go well.”
Twilight swallowed and made herself speak calmly. “How badly did Zambet hurt her?”
“She is in a coma while her Element repairs her badly-wounded mind,” Penumbra said. “She is in no further danger, and she will recover, but it will not be immediate.”
“What the hay…” Dawn shook her head. “Flutters isn’t a scaredy-pony anymore but she’s not exactly bold either. What the buck happened?”
“Zambet did not give me a full explanation, but I am familiar enough with beings like her that I can speculate with a reasonable degree of accuracy,” Penumbra said. “The contractual relationship forbids her to kill and very narrowly sets the terms under which she may do harm. It is my belief that she devised a set of circumstances that would have led Fluttershy to stand and fight; very likely, she endangered innocents in such a way that your friend was able to reach the destructive aspect of Kindness, the concept of apoptosis and turned it on her. It is likely that she did this because she believed that disabling the full power of the Elements of Harmony would dramatically increase the chances of my endeavor succeeding… and facilitating success is the overall purpose of employing her services, which she is quite aware of.”
“So she was… trying to help?” Twilight gaped at her.
“She was making a point,” Penumbra said. “Certainly one of the things she enjoys doing. The point was that for all the planning I do, it’s beyond my power to dictate exactly who gets hurt. She was also making the point that as thoroughly as I devised the terms of the contract, she can stamp all over its spirit while obeying its letter if she wants to. I did not chain an eldritch horror, Princesses, I employed one.”
“And you’re taking the blame.”
“I am,” Penumbra said. “This is my fault. I had planned to avoid doing you and your friends any harm, Princesses Sparkle, but I perceived a need for extremely competent help that would have no issue doing morally repugnant things to achieve my goals. I gambled, and the well-being of Fluttershy was the price of my folly.”
“So where’s Rainbow in all of this?” Dawn said. “Can’t imagine she’d be cool with Flutters getting hurt, and I know she’s looking for a plot to kick.”
Penumbra grinned. “Rainbow Dash will be waiting at Glacierfast, I believe. Which is where we’re going.”
“For a good old-fashioned whupping.”
Penumbra nodded. “Doing me any real or lasting harm is outside her power, even with Loyalty helping her, but I understand that they are childhood friends. It is justice that after I hurt her friend, she will hurt me. Badly, I suspect.”
“And then what?”
“And then I will brush her aside--harmlessly--and continue on to my purpose.” Penumbra’s horn lit up and a glass of the drink Twilight was sipping floated over. She took a long drink from the glass. “To do otherwise would amount to your friend being deeply hurt for no reason at all.”
The violence was as real and brutal as it was immediate: tapping her hooves together was followed instantly by Rainbow rotating on her shoulders and smashing both of her rear hooves into the top of Penumbra’s head. The zebricorn’s head snapped downwards in a spray of blood on the packed snow beneath her hooves and she fell over. Rainbow swooped down, a four-hoof stomp to the barrel just barely avoided by Penumbra shifting herself in time, and then the beating began.
Luna had expected that when Penumbra had smiled and told Rainbow that she couldn’t kick her plot, she’d just project a barrier and let Rainbow beat herself against it until she was too exhausted to continue. Instead, the zebricorn wasn’t even fighting back as blow after blow rained down, some of them starting to be visibly assisted by Loyalty the way they had been when Rainbow attacked Zambet.
It seemed like forever but was really probably only a few minutes before Rainbow stepped back panting, her pink eyes ablaze with anger, as she stared down at that barely-stirring Penumbra. “That’s it?” she demanded. “You’re just gonna let me hit you?”
Penumbra raised her head, her face misshappen from the pummeling but her breathing oddly steady and even. “That’s the point of allowing you to settle the score, is it not?” she said, her words a little mushy and slurred but still remarkably clear.
“Beatin’ someone isn’t kicking their plot, it’s just beatin’ them.” Rainbow glared down at her. “What, ya thought just hurting you was gonna make it all right? I’m paying you back, and that means you try to stop me. Like Gilda did. Like Flutters did. ‘Cept this time, yer the one that loses and gets hurt. Ya get it now?”
Penumbra stared at her for a moment before she rolled over and onto her feet in the same motion. “I understand.” She pressed the catch that kept her fighting hoofshoes secured and stepped out of them one by one before looking at Rainbow. “I will do as you wish, but understand this: if you try to break or otherwise damage my horn, Fluttershy will not be the only badly injured Element. I shall not use any magic, nor use the horn as a weapon.”
Rainbow snorted contemptuously. “If you can’t win clean, winning doesn’t mean pies.”
“I knew you’d say that.” Penumbra planted her hooves. “Now then, Rainbow Dash, shall we?”