//------------------------------//
// Chapter Eighteen: Regents 
// Story: CRISIS: Equestria - Divergence, Book 3 
// by GanonFLCL 
//------------------------------//

The town of Newhaven had been one of the most peculiar towns in all the southern continent for decades now. The majority of the town was just as it had been some fifty years ago, with its lush, rich farmland, its white beaches, its charming, rustic aesthetic, and the distinct sounds of the locals always engaging in some sort of party or festival replete with hooting and hollering and plenty of guitar. It was a popular vacation spot, little else.

When the city of Hope's Point established itself in the north, it did not take them long to make ties with the first coastal settlement they'd come into contact with. Everypony in Newhaven had been surprised, certainly, and that surprise had spread throughout the southern continent: there were still ponies in the north! And they'd made it across the sea!

While northern culture in general had gone uncared for by the majority of the south, Newhaven had embraced the new connection and allowed Hope's Point to build an "airport" here, which they used to dock their flying contraptions, for they did not use seafaring ships as the ponies of the south did. This of course meant that Newhaven was still a popular vacation spot, just for the north now as well.

Hope's Point had even established a political agreement with Newhaven's nobility and with the southern peacekeepers, the Harmony Guard, to ensure that Hope's Point would not interfere in political affairs of the south, but that they could defend Newhaven if it should ever be in danger. The airport was part of the town now, and they would defend their interests.

It was at this so-called airport that Lady Silverluck now found herself, her first time visiting it personally since it was first established. This was not her first experience with the ponies of Hope's Point, but it was her first time truly witnessing the strange marvels that they crafted from such a close perspective. Part of her was curious, another part of her frightened, but all-in-all she felt rather neutral about all this.

She currently waited in a comfortable leisure lounge overlooking one of the "hangar bays", as their assigned flying contraption would be docking within the next few minutes to take her and the other southern delegates north for a summit that Queen Blackburn had called for. 

She could subtly check her reflection in the clean, reflective glass, ensuring that her gray coat was immaculate and that not a single hair was out of place in her silvery mane. She did need to adjust her gold tiara though; it had come askew and had been resting awkwardly against her horn.

Normally such a summit would have been considered beneath the southern nobility—Hope's Point stayed out of their affairs, and thus vice versa—but nopony wanted to ignore it when Her Majesty insisted that they'd found something that put the entire world at stake. Her Majesty had always given off an air of paranoia and control, but never panicky, so for her to insist that this was important meant that it probably was.

As she waited, Silverluck silently observed the other guests who were currently waiting in the lounge with her:

First was Lord Skycatcher, the head of House Sky and thus the ruling lord of Newhaven itself. His father, Lord Wondersky, had been relatively minor in the political scene fifty years ago, but then Hope's Point knocked on his door and now, fifty years later, their house was one of the strongest. It was quite a feat, the likes of  which hadn't been seen in nearly one hundred years, when House Night made a big deal about their head of house being pregnant with a foal sired Harmonia's then Warden, Radiant Shield.

Scandalous.

Skycatcher himself was a handsome pegasus stallion, light blue in coat with purple mane and tail, and he'd even started growing a goatee in recent years. He wore a sash over his chest and shoulder, blue and gold and decorated with an orange pegasus rearing up, the coat of arms for House Sky.

Next was Lord Golden Shield, the head of House Golden and thus her father-in-law, as she was married to his third son, Goldenglow. Goldenglow had not inherited his father's good looks, unfortunately; Golden Shield was a stalwart, rugged earth pony stallion with a broad build, his coat a rich golden brown, his mane a golden blonde. His coat of arms—a white sword over a field of gold and purple—was emblazoned on his cloak.

Last was the zebra Ambassador Zultan of Zeb'ra'den, who had only been appointed to the position two months ago but who did his job well. He was young, of course, though a little older than Silverluck herself, and had retained his youthful good looks. His mane was tied into a long, thick ponytail that wrapped around his neck like a scarf, though he kept his tail short. All of this was kept under a thin cloak befitting his station and a set of light, comfortable furs.

There was no sign of the Ambassador's bodyguard, though. Supposedly Zultan was the only one who had brought anyone with him, as Hope's Point made a show that they would be providing personal guards and stewards to each of the delegates. Supposedly the Ambassador's guard was more well-acquainted with pony culture than he was, and was to help advise him. Odd, but then that was zebra culture for you. Silverluck wondered who it might be.

None of the delegates spoke much to one another now. There was no need, as they'd be doing plenty of that up north at the summit, and they'd already exchanged plenty of meaningless pleasantries earlier. Meaning of course that she'd mostly just been polite and courteous with the other lords, ensured Golden Shield that his son and grandson were in good health, and just generally made pleasant small talk that Silverluck generally hated.

She could tell that she wasn't exactly welcome, that her presence was being questioned at every moment, mostly by her father-in-law. She could see how Golden Shield silently judged the way she walked, the way she drank wine from her glass, the fact that her coat of arms—two white castles on a field of silver and blue—wasn't prominently displayed but rather subtly made as part of her tiara. He was a judgmental jackass, but then most lords were.

It wasn't that she wasn't good enough for his son, as even Golden Shield himself would admit, sometimes very openly, that it was the other way around. No, it was that she wasn't the head of her house; her father, Lord Silverhoof, had assigned her with this task rather than come himself. As such, she wanted to agree: she shouldn't be here. But her father trusted her with the task, and so she would carry it out. It was her duty as his heir.

Because she was nearest to the window, Silverluck was the first to see the flying contraption arrive at the hangar bay, flying over it and then descending slowly down while carried along by the strange glowing devices that granted it flight. Seconds later, a member of the port's staff arrived to inform the noble delegates that their transport had indeed arrived, and that they could embark immediately; their luggage was already being loaded.

"I reckon this is the first time any o' y'all ever been on an airship?" asked Skycatcher in his Newhaven drawl as the delegates followed the staff member down towards the hangar.

"This will be my first time, yes," Silverluck responded with a nod. "I've only ever seen these fanciful flying contraptions from a distance before. Never had much interest in them."

"They're mighty fine contraptions, if I do say so myself. Ain't quite the same as flyin' with my own two wings, no, but they sure do go faster'n any pegasus ever could."

"Dem machines don't sit too right wit' me personally," Golden Shield grunted, his rich baritone peppering every word in his thick Deepgrove accent; it was similar to Newhaven's in a few ways, but had its own flavor. "If Harmonia had wanted all us ponies to fly, she'd've given us all wings, mon ami."

"It's the way o' the future, Goldie," chuckled Skycatcher, patting the other lord's shoulder. "One o' these days our children's children oughta be makin' flyin' machines o' their own. My lil' Skylash is mighty interested, I tell ya what. Keeps talkin' bout wantin' ta fly one up so high she can touch the moons."

"Your daughter certainly has a lofty imagination," Silverluck said with a grin. "Perhaps a bit misguided, but then you have a different perspective."

"Well said, cher." Golden Shield shook his head. "T'ain't right, Catcher, lettin' yer kid get ideas in her head like dat." He turned his gaze over towards Zultan. "How 'bout you, Ambassador? You ever fly in one o' dem machines before? You think dey's wrong too, hmm?"

"Nay, Lord Golden, I hath never even been near one of these machines before," the zebra said; Silverluck was glad that the zebras as a whole had started relaxing their metered speech when speaking with ponies in recent years. "In fact, 'tis the first time I hath ever laid mine eyes upon one, even from a distance."

"Truly?" asked Silverluck. "I was under the impression that His and Her Majesty made annual visits to Zeb'ra'den? Surely you would have seen one of their flying machines during one of these trips?"

"Ah, regrettably not, My Lady, as much of my time was taken up with tutelage. This will also be my first time meeting the royal couple in person. Mine only correspondence with Her Majesty hath been via letter, when I didst informeth her of mine appointment, and she didst respond quite favorably."

"And that's why you're bringing this bodyguard of yours? He's met them?"

Zultan shook his head. "Nay, he hath not met them in person either, but he is more acquainted with ponies than I. He hath more experience in Utopia, more years to call upon for knowledge and expectations. I know that doth not make him more aware of northern culture, but 'tis still more than mine own experiences in any case."

"Well, I'm sure you'll do just fine, Ambassador," Silverluck said with a polite smile. She didn't know the new ambassador too well yet, but if he was anything like his predecessor, Zamindari, they could potentially have a good working relationship.

Before they reached the hangar, the delegates were intercepted by another zebra, no doubt the bodyguard that Ambassador Zultan was bringing along. Silverluck recognized him immediately as Sir Zircon, a well-regarded knight of Zeb'ra'den and a famous warrior and swordfighter. Even her son's sword instructor, Sir Stillwater, agreed that he was the… second best swordfighter on the continent. After himself, naturally; their rivalry was legendary.

Zircon was handsome even by pony standards in a rugged sort of way, with a broad frame and a strong chin. His mane was stylishly unkempt, as contradictory as that sounded; it was as though his mane just naturally looked like he didn't do anything with it but it always looked pleasant. He had a long, luxurious tail, however, as was customary of soldiers and warriors in their culture. And, as he always did, he wore a suit of leather armor made from the hides of frostwolves, dyed gold, all under a frostwolf fur cloak.

How he could stand to wear all that fur and leather in this southern summer heat was beyond Silverluck's understanding, but then she supposed he was properly prepared for the northern winter. None of them knew just how cold it might be up there, after all. He seemed to be handling the heat well enough for now; his under armor was surely drenched, though.

Zircon approached the group and immediately bowed, as was polite. "My Lords, My Lady." 

This sufficed as a formal greeting, and none of the pony nobles needed to give him anything in return save for nods of acknowledgement, which they did, and he knew he need not say anything further; it was not his place to strike up conversation.

The airship that the delegates were to board had been given the name Lunar Spear, and it was supposedly considered the top of its class in luxury and comfort. The vessel was unlike anything that Silverluck had ever seen before, and up close she didn't know exactly what to make of it; how these Hope's Point "engineers" had managed to piece together such a thing was a mystery.

The shape was odd and didn't seem at all like any seafaring ship's, and the bizarre mechanisms were strange and alien to her. This contraption didn't seem like it should even be considered seaworthy, let alone able to fly. At least it had sensible colors, black with purple accents. Rather like House Night's livery, actually, which seemed appropriate given the vessel's name; she might correspond with Lady Stormy Night after the summit, as she might enjoy the tidbit.

The ship's captain came to greet them as they entered the hangar, or at least Silverluck assumed she was the captain since her outfit was appropriately formal, and since that was only proper manners. She didn't know much about Hope's Point but she did know a lot about Queen Blackburn, and she knew that her step-niece was not one to skimp on formality when it was appropriate.

"My Lords, My Lady," the mare greeted with a polite bow. "I'm Captain Licorice Whip of the Lunar Spear. On behalf of Hope's Point and Her Majesty Queen Blackburn, I welcome you all aboard my ship." She gestured with her wing towards the boarding ramp, which went up and inside the ship from below. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you all to our luxury passenger cabin."

The delegates followed wordlessly, as was expected, allowing the captain to give her spiel about all of the accommodations and amenities the ship offered, as was polite. As the fleet's most luxurious of luxury liners, it was equipped with everything that any passenger could need to enjoy themselves over the short six hour flight north to Hope's Point. 

Silverluck was particularly impressed with that timeframe; taking a seafaring vessel just from the Northshore near Utopia to Seaside took about four days, and it was supposedly the same distance as Newhaven to Hope's Point.

Once the captain finished her spiel, she introduced the delegates to a younger stallion, one Ensign Jamboree, who would take care of all of their in-flight needs. "The Lunar Spear is your home away from home, so feel free to make yourselves as comfortable as you like." The captain finished with a salute. "We'll be departing in five minutes. I'll leave you all in the ensign's capable hooves."

The "ensign", as he was called, then showed the delegates briefly around the passenger cabin, which was of a pleasant size and had ample room for seating. Everyone was allowed to choose their own seats, and Silverluck strategically placed herself as far away from Golden Shield as possible while keeping close to the two zebras; she wanted to know Zultan a little better, and she was already acquainted with Zircon.

Everyone put in orders of food and drink from the provided menus, which served elegant snacks instead of full-course meals, which made sense given the short time they would be in the air. They even had tiramisu, her favorite, because of course Queen Blackburn would ensure it was on the menu.

When the airship took off, Silverluck didn't even feel so much as a bump. The only reason she even knew that they'd left aside from the captain's perfect timing—five minutes to the second, by her count—was that she could see out the impressive window nearby that they were moving. That applied to the rest of the flight, actually: moving without feeling it. What Silverluck wouldn't give to have such smooth travel by carriage! Her ass was still sore from Newhaven's brick roads.

A part of her wanted to indulge the curious filly inside and look out the window and marvel at the sight of the ocean from on high, and to see for herself the Clashing Storm—the northerners called it the Belt of Tranquility—and what it was like not just up close, but passing through. She'd have to settle for looking at it out of the corner of her eye.

What was more important was politics, and that meant ignoring the sights to focus on making a personal connection with the new zebra ambassador. 

"So, Ambassador Zultan, how are you enjoying the sights of Utopia so far?" she asked as she sipped from the lemonade she'd ordered; the lemons were from Newhaven, she could tell. Nopony made better lemonade.

Zultan shifted slightly in his seat, a curious smile on his face; Silverluck didn't need to read minds to tell that he was enjoying the comfort of the cushions. "Utopia is a fine city, though my heart yearns to returneth home to the southern snows. 'Homesickness', I believe thou wouldst calleth it?"

"You don't spend much time away from home?"

"Nay, not for such a long period. As a minor diplomat to Frostburg, my visits didst not taketh more than a fortnight at worst. House Snow and Zeb'ra'den hath had good relations for centuries now; 'tis but a trifle to address any concerns that arise. At worst, 'twould be marriage arrangements."

"Ah, I'd heard there was a minor kerfuffle last year around one of the daughters of House Snow's cadet branch. Something about her not arranging the marriage before consummating it, hmm?"

"Aye, 'twas quite the spectacle." He sighed, shaking his head, then turned to Zircon. "I knoweth not how thou can standeth it. Six months e'ry year? Harsh, I must admit."

Zircon smiled and nodded, setting down the small cup of tea that he'd ordered before speaking:

"Since I didst take my knightly oath, I hath sought little more than growth in matters social, even war. With this, I couldst not ask for more. Yes, there are times when my heart aches and when I miss our frozen lakes, or how the moons shine on our snows. But when I see a northern rose, I see not pain, but great beauty, taking pleasure in my duty."

Silverluck quietly swooned a little; all zebras maintained the old-fashioned manners of speech that had not been used for thousands of years, and they all spoke in meter and rhyme to one another—it was their way of displaying social standing and rank—but not all zebras were quite as poetic as Zircon was. 

Which is probably part of why he was so popular with the ladies of the Utopian courts. Silverluck herself had taken an interest several years ago, but Zircon was a gentlecolt who, in his own words, "didst not layeth with married mares", even when Silverluck had explained that it was perfectly acceptable in pony culture to do so; almost every married noblepony had a paramour or made use of brothels. 

Yes, that included herself, Skycatcher, and Golden Shield. It was the worst-kept secret in the south. Harmonia preached a practice of free love, after all, and so long as nopony was hurt in such arrangements—meaning that all parties agreed to allow it—it was acceptable, even encouraged.

Hell, she was positive that zebra culture has similar expectations in place. Ambassador Zamindari, Zultan's predecessor, often spoke of his Consort back home, Zaelera, because she and he had been foalhood friends, but he needed to marry the daughter of an influential knight to get noticed for his position. It was a sweet story, actually.

But as the soldiers of the Harmony Guard would say: c'est la vie.

"Homesickness is perfectly understandable," Silverluck said, her mind returning to the conversation. Her eyes drifted to the ceiling in thought. "I used to receive letters from my sister all the time about how much she missed the southern skies. You know that in the north, they cannot see the sky as we do? They never see the sun or the moons or stars."

"A dreadful thought," Zultan muttered, rubbing his chin. "How dost one determine what hour of the day it is without the sun and moons to guide them?"

Silverluck gestured around. "I imagine they have some fancy timekeeping contraptions for that, more accurate than any clockwork novelties you could find in the Utopian marketplace." With a careful look towards the other two lords, she added, "I tend to agree with Lord Skycatcher's assessment. Soon, the north's technology will spread south. Likely within the next generation or two."

Zircon laughed. "'Twould take much effort to convince King Zaratite that we shouldst abandon tradition to adopt the fantastical gizmos of the far north."

With a smirk, Silverluck countered, "It only took three months for Queen Blackburn to convince him to abandon thousands of years of tradition to allow zebras to communicate with ponies without using the meter and rhyme you use with one another."

"Ha! Thou speakest true, My Lady. Mayhap thou hast a point. Then again, didst he not convince her to speaketh plainly to him as well?"

"Also true."

Yes, that had been quite the event. Silverluck could still remember quite clearly when Ambassador Zamindari first spoke to her without using the meter and rhyme that she'd been accustomed to. This was about five years ago, and naturally she'd questioned it, and he'd explained to her thusly:

Apparently, King Zaratite found it desperately hard to understand Queen Blackburn's unique speech pattern and demanded that she speak plainly. She brazenly demanded that he do the same with her. They argued for months—without changing a thing about how they spoke the whole time—before they finally agreed to compromise. 

Nobody knew exactly what Zaratite had gotten from Blackburn out of the deal, but now all zebras spoke plainly as could be to ponies, only using their infamous rhymes and meters when speaking with one another.

As the conversation continued—mostly more smalltalk—Silverluck took some time to watch out the window as the airship passed through the Clashing Storm, though she was careful not to devote too much attention to it. The storm had always been terrifying to pretty much everypony in the south, since until the very first airship from Hope's Point made the trip through, it was thought to be impassable.

She had never seen it up close herself, but now that she could she could understand why it was considered so terrifying. Dark clouds prevented her from seeing anything else around her but the storm itself; she didn't even know which way was up. Bolts of lightning ripped through the sky at constant, furious intervals, and they seemed to be actively trying to hit anything that passed by. Then there were the fire cyclones; those were self-explanatory.

And yet the Lunar Spear flew through it all like it wasn't even there. The golden glow that shimmered around the ship seemed to be doing its job to protect the ship and its occupants from danger, all without so much as a hint of "turbulence" as the northerners called it. Were this a nautical vessel, one could probably ride it without even experiencing seasickness. What was the airship equivalent of that, she wondered? Airsickness?

She was glad to be having none of that. How embarrassing that would be to experience it in such a public setting.

From there, once the airship broke through the other side of the storm, she and all the other delegates were treated with something new to see for the first time: the north. This, Silverluck knew, was an acceptable reason to break from the conversations and politics to look out into what may as well have been a completely different world.

The sky was orange with a disgusting, churning energy, the field generated by the northern Beacon. It was only through that Beacon that their world had remained safe and secure for all these generations, an invention of the late gryphon empire; none who lived in the south knew what had become of the gryphons, but they'd heard that they were no more in the past few decades.

As the city of Hope's Point came into view, its golden shield easily visible from its perch atop the massive coastal cliffs, Silverluck couldn't help but wonder how these ponies had managed to even survive over all the generations that it had taken them to make such outstanding inventions. The conditions looked inhospitable even in "photographs"; with her own two eyes, these so-called "Wastelands" looked worse than their name implied.

For the sake of the new arrivals, the Lunar Spear flew a course around the city before coming in to dock… wherever it was that it was supposed to dock. Silverluck could see no ports like the one in Newhaven, so she was quite curious as to how the process went. Still, her attention was mostly drawn to the environment below, from the wastes to the shielded city to the disgusting sky to the filthy waters.

"So this is the north," said Ambassador Zultan, stepping up alongside her by the window. He grimaced as he looked upon it all. "'Tis not any place that I would like to live. The ponies here art tougher than our people hath given them credit for."

"So it would seem," Silverluck replied, sipping from her lemonade. "I know that many southern ponies have traveled here in the past decade, not just for business or curiosity, but to live here. How can one call this living?" She turned to Zultan. "Have any zebras come to the far north?"

He nodded. "Some, but they art few in number, drawn here by curiosity and the call to adventure. Her Majesty Queen Blackburn, she hath made quite an impression on our people, on our king as well. I hath heard rumors that an official alliance is in the works."

"Hmm, I've heard the same whispers. I know zebras tend to have less than stellar opinions on pegasi, though I suppose knowing somepony like Her Majesty rules her kingdom with an iron hoof would change one's opinions."

"Aye." Zultan tilted his head. "Looking out upon these arid wastes fills me with relief that the southern lands were spared a similar fate. The great Lord Silvertongue's sacrifice was not in vain; 'tis through his actions that the Darkness hath been kept at bay for so many generations." With a look to Silverluck, he added, "Thou shouldst be proud to share his blood."

"Indeed. Knowing that our entire world could have become like this if not for his actions… it certainly puts things in perspective, doesn't it? We should all strive to possess such selflessness." Silverluck shook her head. "It troubles me that this news Her Majesty brings could threaten my ancestor's work."

"Wouldst thou happen to know why Her Majesty hath requested such odd historical documents?"

"I wish that I did, and I wish that any of us had anything that could help her. But expecting written works to survive for over two thousand years?" Silverluck let out a little chuckle. "She expects too much of our ancestors' preservation methods. Hopefully we can still provide aid with our presence alone."

The Lunar Spear finished its overhead tour of the city and the surrounding airspace, upon which it did something very curious, and almost a little worrisome. The ship dove down towards the sea! Surely they were about to crash! But no, nothing of the sort happened, and in fact Silverluck felt a little silly being so worried. The ship just dove under the waves as any pony diver would, and it swam for a tunnel built into the cliff.

These contraptions were truly capable of moving through both air and sea so seamlessly? Would these technological wonders ever cease?

When the ship finally came to a stop, it was in one of those little hangar bays just like they had at the port in Newhaven, only they were apparently underground; they hadn't traveled far enough up to be in the city proper by any means.

"Aha, now dis, dis I like," Golden Shield said as he looked outside the window at the mechanical chamber they were now in as it was draining itself of water. "Dey dug out a part of the cliff to make dis here dock, yah? I heard dat half de city is like dis, but I did not believe it was possible until now. Dis is efficient use of metals."

"Ha ha, you would get a kick outta a bunch o' folks livin underground, you big molerat you," Skycatcher laughed, slapping Golden gently on the shoulder. "See? I tol' ya that this here technology was the way o' the future. Just you wait 'til ya see the minin' operations they got down here. They'll make yer mines back home look like a bunch o' colts diggin' in the dirt!"

"Dey do minin' here, too?" He paused, then slapped himself in the temple. "O' course dey do, what am I talkin' here? Dey gotta have a lot o' metal an' such if dey gonna make all dis here machinery work."

"See? Told ya."

Golden Shield threw a hoof around Skycatcher and patted the other stallion's chest. "Alright, mon ami, you might have convinced me good for now. But let's see what else dis here city has to offer, yah? Dis here's good 'n' all dat, but how's the food? Heh heh."

The captain returned from the cockpit to address the passengers. "Welcome, My Lords, My Lady, to Hope's Point, the Jewel of the North. A welcoming party is prepared to greet you, and will begin taking your things to your guest quarters. Please enjoy your stay, and I hope you all had a pleasant flight aboard the Lunar Spear."

The delegates followed without another word to the captain or to one another for now; Silverluck knew that the time for casual smalltalk and observations was over, and the time for diplomacy had arrived. 

Playing politics with one another was an old, tired game; none of the southern houses really had much to worry about with one another anymore. Everything was about keeping old alliances strong and maintaining good ties with each other. It was, well, boring. Hope's Point turning House Sky into a powerhouse in only a few decades was just the shake-up everypony needed, and everypony else was trying to "get in on the action", to use a northern expression.

The large doors that led into the hangar bay opened up—the noise wasn't as loud as Silverluck had been expecting—and revealed the welcoming party. 

Naturally this included Queen Blackburn herself, looking as professional and imposing as ever in one of her white coats and a green-and-gold scarf. Also present was her husband, King Lockwood. Silverluck had met him only once, shortly after the wedding. He was handsome, polite, and charming in an almost southern fashion; she had to commend Blackburn on her eye for quality.

Also present were the royal couple's bodyguards, Gadget and Crossfire. The latter of the two was, if Silverluck's memory served, originally from Newhaven. His parents had apparently been servants inder Lord Skycatcher's father, but had migrated north when the airport was still relatively new. He was certainly quite a looker, but the gold earring in his ear indicated that he was married, so Silverluck lost interest immediately.

The other two ponies present, both mares, were total strangers to Silverluck. They weren't members of Blackburn's advisory Council, that much Silverluck knew; she'd done her homework over the years. So who were they? A very curious conundrum, and she knew she'd have to get in their good graces quickly if she was to maintain House Silver's dominance in these proceedings.

Queen Blackburn stepped forward first to greet the delegates, doing so with the traditional southern bow appropriate for greeting heads of households by other heads of households; this is, it was less of a bow than it was a friendly nod, but at just the right angle and for just the right amount of time. Silverluck and the other ponies in the party returned the greeting exactly as Blackburn had given it.

"Greetings, Lord Skycatcher, Lord Golden Shield, Lady Silverluck," Blackburn said quickly and politely; she'd even said their names in the proper order—eldest to youngest—which Silverluck found quite impressive as there weren't many who knew that Skycatcher was older than Golden Shield… by exactly twenty-two minutes. "And welcome to Hope's Point."

The Queen then gave a similar nod to Ambassador Zultan, with a slight flourish of her hoof, as was proper in zebra greetings of this sort. Zultan replied with a short bow—an actual bow—of his own, as would be appropriate for him. 

"And greetings and welcome to you as well, Ambassador Zultan. May Layk bless thy family in their journeys at home."

Zultan seemed surprised by the greeting, but in a good way. "And many thanks and blessings upon thy home, Your Majesty. I am impressed; thy chosen greeting is reserved for nobles whose families are expecting newborns. How didst thou knowest that my sister is with foal?"

"I have my sources," was Blackburn's clean and simple response. The queen turned to the delegation as a whole, then gestured towards the two new mares with her wing. "Guests, further introductions are in order. Have additional northern delegates who will be present at summit."

The first of the two, a unicorn mare with horn-rimmed glasses, cleared her throat and gave a polite nod, almost motion-for-motion the same as what Queen Blackburn had performed a moment ago. Just a little off, but then it took years of practice to get it just right, so it was forgivable, and impressive that she'd done so well.

"Salutations, all," the mare said, adjusting her glasses with her magic, not her hoof, as was polite for a unicorn. "I am Shadow Associate Golden Dawn of the New Pandemonium City Committee. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Silverluck considered the mare for a moment. She'd gotten the motions of the greeting mostly right but her words and tone were not quite as well-practiced in this regard. But then learning how to bow was easy; learning how to properly address foreign diplomats with words was not. She could sympathize. 

The mare was dressed professionally, at least by northern standards, in a dark purple dress suit. Silverluck still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that all northerners wore clothes as a "rule", as if there was something wrong with the naked form. Harmonia had made ponies in her image, so to hide it was just… wrong.

She also considered the "New Pandemonium City" bit. The name was familiar. Wasn't that the city to the farther north? The one that Hope's Point had been at war with for decades? Silverluck had heard that peace negotiations were in the works but hadn't heard yet whether they'd been made official. Nopony really dealt with New Pandemonium directly, though, so why was this mare here?

Silverluck in particular had every reason to be a bit apprehensive on the subject, of course. The military of that far northern city was responsible for the death of her dear sister Silver Glow. Really, why did they have a representative here at all? Was their peace accord that far along?

The other mare, a house-sized pegasus, then gave a similarly proper greeting nod, which she seemed to have some difficulty doing correctly. This was only natural; the motions were designed for ponies of similar sizes in mind, and this mare stood about a head taller than all of the delegates proper—a head-and-a-half for Silverluck! Sir Zircon was the only one present who came close to matching her, but even he fell short by an inch or two.

This one, too, was dressed professionally, her jacket looked like some sort of military uniform perhaps, or something that evoked one at least. She'd seen similar clothing on the captain of the Lunar Spear, in a way. As somepony who didn't know much about northern fashion or clothing, she wasn't sure if the outfits actually had any relation at all.

"Greetings, Lord Skycatcher, Lord Golden Shield, and Lady Silverluck." The mare then gave a crisper sort of nod to Zultan. "And greetings to you, Ambassador Zultan. I'm Ambassador Gray Skies, here on behalf of the New Pandemonium City Committee to represent our interests in these proceedings."

Silverluck raised an eyebrow, impressed that this mare knew proper greeting procedure better than the other one, Golden Dawn. Then again, this one, Gray Skies, was an ambassador, so perhaps she was just more accustomed to proper diplomacy. The awkwardness of her physical greetings was more than excusable if she knew how to properly use her words.

Silverluck and the other southerners then delivered their own greetings and introductions, save for Zircon who was not here in an official capacity; he had no more real responsibility or pull here than Blackburn's bodyguards did, insofar as the summit was concerned. Political traditions were what they were, and Queen Blackburn was doing a fine job of fulfilling southern customs.

"Would like to begin proceedings immediately," Blackburn said with a firm nod. "Topics are imperative; world-changing events on horizon. However, time currently not of the essence, can delay to accommodate proper southern hospitality.

"Have already arranged guest suites for all of you, assigned rooms and staff that appeal to your tastes and individual customs." She gestured towards three stewards—one of whom was a zebra—who all gave proper bows. "Assigned stewards will tend to every need. Have already assigned security details, will remain discreet; inform me if you wish for a more personal touch."

Lord Skycatcher bowed ever-so-slightly; as the eldest of the group, he was considered the "lead" so to speak, even if technically Golden Shield held the most political power of the three. "Your hospitality is appreciated, Your Majesty."

Blackburn nodded in return. "The summit will proceed at noon tomorrow. Inform staff of any concerns, will be brought immediately to my attention. Enjoy your stay."

She then gestured for the stewards to step over, which they did, immediately proceeding to their assigned nobles… except for Silverluck herself, oddly enough. Silverluck had noticed of course that a steward was missing, or perhaps that one was hidden out of the way. So she wasn't surprised, just annoyed, when Queen Blackburn approached her directly and somewhat quietly.

"Lady Silverluck," she said with a small nod. "Been some time."

"Yes, since shortly after your wedding, if I recall correctly, Your Majesty," Silverluck said, narrowing her eyes. "May I assume since you are speaking to me privately that this is a conversation that you don't wish the others to partake in?"

"Correct. Had a topic to discuss with you. In private."

"Well, since we're no longer playing public politics here, I will assume that I can speak freely," Silverluck said; it wasn't a question, because she knew that Blackburn knew that she knew what tradition dictated. "In which case, yes, it has been some time, but frankly not long enough."

Blackburn sighed and nodded. "Reaction understandable; can't forgive me for treatment of your sister. I cannot apologize enough; one of my great regrets in life."

"No, you can't apologize enough. Because the pony you should be apologizing to is dead," Silverluck snorted. "Whatever topic that you have to discuss with me can wait. You made a big show about following traditions earlier, so don't skimp on the pomp and circumstance with me. Now, where is my steward?"

Blackburn gestured over to the side, where another pony, a younger mare, was waiting off to the side of the hanger bay door.

Silverluck nodded and started walking away. "Excellent. Then if you'll excuse me—"

"Not making this request as the queen," Blackburn said, a slight pleading in her voice, which was unusual for her. "Making request as family."

"Family? You think that you and I are family?" Silverluck sneered and shook her head. "Your father married my sister. I know what that makes us, yes, and I don't care. Family doesn't treat family the way you did."

"I know. Want to make amends. Please, come with me. Have something to show you. It's…" She took a breath. "Important."

"Can't it wait?"

"It can. But you would not want me to delay it if you knew what it was."

That caught Silverluck's attention; she knew it was a manipulative, enigmatic statement meant to catch her off guard, and she knew that that was something Blackburn was practically famous for down south, but something about the way she said it actually gave Silverluck pause. There was a certain emotional twist to Blackburn's voice that she wasn't used to.

After a moment to consider it, Silverluck sighed and nodded. "Fine. But this had better not be a waste of my time. I'm already upset about there being ponies here who represent the nation responsible for my sister's death, so you'll forgive me if I'm not feeling particularly congenial at the moment."

"No, understand completely. And… situation is complicated." Blackburn nodded. "But you'll understand afterwards. Come."


*****


Silverluck wasn't sure what to make of the small meeting room that she'd been escorted to, nor the strange "elevator" contraption that had taken them up here, nor the fact that more than just herself and Blackburn were present. Not who she expected, of course; King Lockwood had left with the other southern delegates to handle diplomatic duties, and Ambassador Gray Skies had gone with him. Blackburn's personal guard, Gadget, stood outside.

Thus, the other pony present for this "meeting" was one of the new faces from earlier, the… what did she call herself again? Shadow Associate?

Golden Dawn was her name, which Silverluck found odd on a number of levels now that she got a good chance to look at her. Her colors—golden brown for her coat, cream for her mane—evoked the same sort of pedigree that had been passed down through House Golden for generations; Silverluck’s husband, Goldenglow, had almost the exact same coat color. 

Perhaps this mare was descended from one of House Golden's soldiers that had stayed behind hundreds of years ago, one of the loyal followers of Lord Silvertongue himself? It was obvious that those followers long ago had formed their own settlement that had grown into what was New Pandemonium City today, so the logic certainly followed.

"So, what is this all about?" Silverluck asked, slouching lightly in her seat just to demonstrate her distaste for this whole ordeal. "Why is she here?"

Blackburn took a short breath. "Best for her to explain it." With a quick look to Dawn, though, she added, "And for her to be brief, to the point. Other details can wait. Important matters come first."

Dawn stuck her nose in the air. "I am aware, Your Majesty, of what constitutes as important and carry no intention of delaying the matter. I can address my personal interests within this unique situation once the initial business is concluded." She gave Silverluck a small smile. "Though I will note that it is an honor to meet you, Lady Silverluck."

"Thank you, Shadow Associate," Silverluck said with a tense nod; she had to be polite if she could, but it was hard to do so looking into the face of somepony that was responsible for Silver Glow's death.

"Please, you can utilize my given name if you so wish. Most ponies simply refer to me as 'Dawn', as 'Golden' is much less appealing for a singular name in and of itself."

"Very well, Dawn. Now, what is this all about?"

Dawn took a breath of her own. "As a native of the southern continent, you are no doubt acquainted with Harmonia, one of the two alicorn goddesses. I do not mean on a personal level, of course, but on an awareness level."

Silverluck raised an eyebrow. "Obviously. I pray to Harmonia at my family's personal shrine once a week. She is a guiding light in the lives of every southern pony. Even the zebras pay her tribute and give her the proper reverence she deserves."

A pause. Dawn cleared her throat. "But of course you knew what I was implying. Apologies. Right. Well, then I know you are also aware that Harmonia employs a sort of high priest in her service, a pony that exemplifies her ideals and speaks on her behalf to mortal ponies."

"Her Warden, yes. The current Warden of Harmonia is Mémoire. Does this have something to do with him?"

"No, not with him, not personally. His station, however, is the crucial juncture of this conversation that I am required to address. You see, I am a Warden as well."

Silverluck's eyes widened. "Wh-what? You—"

"Not Nihila's Warden!" Dawn said quickly. "Apologies. I could not enunciate quickly enough to reveal that critical piece of information."

Silverluck paused, eyes still wide, heart still pounding. She looked at Blackburn first, barely able to contain her rage from overtaking her fear, then back to Dawn. "I don't understand. How can you be a Warden, but not Nihila's? There are only two alicorn goddesses, and if you are a Warden, but not to one, then it must be to the other."

"That is correct, I am not the Warden to Harmonia, and I am in point of fact the Warden to another alicorn. Not a goddess, but a god. I am the Warden to Silvertongue, God of Triumph. He… he is my father."

Silverluck paused again, paused for a long moment, then sat up straight in her seat, put both hooves on the table, and said firmly, "I'm leaving."

Dawn blinked. "What?"

"I'm leaving." Silverluck got out of her seat and made her way towards the door, but Blackburn got in her way. "Get out of my way, Blackburn. I will not sit here and be insulted by some northern cretin who thinks that they can just throw around the name of my ancestor with such… audacity."

Blackburn, her wings wide to keep Silverluck from sneaking around her, just shook her head. "She's telling the truth."

"Oh, don't give me that. What, do you think this is supposed to be funny? Hmm? Is this your way of getting back at me because I never respond to your letters? You should be ashamed of yourself, using family as a weapon like that."

"Like yourself?"

Silverluck paused. "What did you just say?"

"Use sister as weapon against me every day. Refuse attempts to apologize; will not forgive, will not forget." Blackburn shook her head. "Have enough regrets. Do not need more."

"Well said, Your Majesty," came a voice from the other side of the room; it was both distinctly Golden Dawn's voice and a stallion's voice speaking in perfect unison.

Silverluck turned to face the voice and leapt back in shock, right into Blackburn in fact; her step-niece caught her, luckily, so she did not fall to the floor. Dawn was still sitting there in her seat as she had been a moment ago, eyes now closed. Occupying the same space was a translucent image of a tall, handsome stallion with a shining silver coat and a golden blond mane. One of his eyes was a gorgeous blue, the other made entirely of golden light.

Most strikingly, he had both wings and a horn. Together. On the same stallion. Thus he was no unicorn, and yet also not a pegasus, but was also somehow both?

"Wh-who are you?" Silverluck stammered, trying to regain her footing but having trouble with it.

"I am Lord Silvertongue."

"What are you?"

"An alicorn. A god." The stallion—Silverluck refused to refer to him as anything but that for now, no matter who he said he was—nodded and gave a sympathetic smile. "I believe that my daughter Dawn was attempting to impart that information to you earlier. I understand that it isn't a particularly easy piece of information to accept, but it's true."

SIlverluck finally managed to regain her balance and stand on her own four hooves again, and she eyed the stallion cautiously. Her immediate thought was that this was some sort of illusion spell that Dawn was using to trick her, but every unicorn knew that using spellwork, even the most minute of spells, caused a unicorn's horn to glow with magic. Dawn's was not glowing in any way, shape, or form.

Still, this could very well be a trick nonetheless. How, she didn't know, but she knew how she could find out. "If you're really Lord Silvertongue, then prove it," she demanded. "Prove to me that you are who you say you are."

The stallion smiled ever-so-slightly. "Naturally you would require proof, though I think we can eliminate the concept of me telling you something that only I would say. You've never met me before now, obviously. So you would therefore require some other form of proof, would you not?"

"I… I suppose I would, yes." Silverluck balked; she couldn't think of any other way to get any proof of the stallion's claims. "I… but if I don't know you, how am I supposed to prove you're really Lord Silvertongue?"

"Quite the vexing predicament. Might I offer an idea?"

"Sure?"

"As a Lady of House Silver, you are no doubt aware of the family's genealogy, yes? Unless our family's consideration of their pedigree has become unimportant, in which case I possess other alternatives to deliver proof."

"No, I know the family tree," Silverluck said with a huff. "I had to memorize it when I was ten."

"Only ten? Hmm. The standards are relaxing." The stallion shrugged; it was so odd to watch Dawn's physical body to it in unison with his translucent one. "But it will suffice. You are no doubt aware that the family genealogy of every southern noble house is both publicly available and a closely guarded secret, I assume?"

Silverluck raised an eyebrow. "Yes, of course. We maintain records of important ponies within the family's bloodline, and these we make known to the other noble houses as proof of our pedigree, as proof of the strength in our blood. But we do not make public the other branches that connect to those ponies, such as spouses, unless they too are related."

It was rare, but not unheard of, for cadet branches to sometimes merge with the main branch of the tree; or, in laypony's terms, for a member of the main branch to marry a cousin. Usually everypony had the sense to avoid first cousins, at least; there was a big difference between strong, pure bloodline, and foolish inbreeding. House Hill had gone extinct for a reason.

"Very good, yes," the stallion replied. "Thus, there would be some information contained within the tree that you know, as a member of House Silver, that only another member of House Silver would know, correct?"

"Correct."

"So then as you are no doubt aware, the name of Silvertongue's mother is well-known, as his mother was a lady of House Silver."

Silverluck nodded. "Correct. Lady Silverstone. That is common knowledge even today; schoolchildren learn it as part of their history lessons."

"But his father's name is not known so well outside the family, correct?"

"No. His father's identity is unimportant for proving the lineage of the House Silver bloodline. But his name would be known to House Silver, as we maintain records of all of that information for internal purposes."

"Indeed. Of course, if anypony were to ask, you would tell them that it was Lady Silverstone's husband, Lord Greenleaf. But then you know that isn't actually true. My father's name was Scarlet Oak."

Silverluck's eyes widened in utter shock. "You can't possibly know that. Nopony knows that. To even imply that would… would be—"

"Nopony except for other members of House Silver would know this, of course." The stallion shook his head and smiled. "Though yes, I suppose it would come as quite a shock to the rest of the southern nobility if they ever learned that the father of the great Lord Silvertongue was a common gardener, one with whom my mother enjoyed a few too many dailances with."

A pause, and the stallion looked right at Queen Blackburn. "And I trust that certain ponies in this room who shouldn't know that piece of information will forget about it entirely of their own accord. Dawn is well-trained in memory alteration magic, should the need arise."

Blackburn traced her hoof over her mouth; Silverluck vaguely understood the gesture to mean that she would keep quiet.

"Thank you."

Silverluck stared wide-eyed at the stallion, her mind reeling with information. "There's… there's no way that you could know that without knowing the family history. Lady Silverstone herself made that record, so the only way you could know it…" She shook her head. "You are him. You're really Lord Silvertongue."

"In the flesh… as it were," he chuckled. "I never imagined that I would ever reconnect with my family again after so many centuries. It's quite a unique experience, though I suppose I don't need to tell you that. Speaking of which, you might want to remember to breathe every now and then."

Silverluck just realized that she'd been holding a breath ever since she confirmed his identity. "R-right. Right. Um… I… I'm afraid I'm rather in the dark here on how to react to all of this. You're family so greetings would be—"

"If you're concerned about proper tradition, don't be. This is a unique situation that you wouldn't have any prior training for, anyway. I'm family, yes, and also fill a role that Harmonia herself would fill, and yet everyone in the south last knew me as a Warden." Silvertongue smiled and gave a polite nod. "Let us just keep things simple, hmm?"

Silverluck gulped, then returned the nod. "Of course. Might I ask how these circumstances came to be? When last anyone saw you, pony or otherwise, you were in the north, completing the construction of the Beacon. Word had been sent that you had been gravely injured finishing off Nihila's forces, and that you would not be returning south."

"Indeed." Silvertongue sighed—it was odd watching an astral projection sigh—and shook his head. "The tale is quite long, and there are many details that you will find disturbing, as the stories you know are laden with inaccuracies and outright lies to protect the secrets that I needed to keep in order to protect our world. I would ask that you hold your questions until the end."

"I will try."

He then explained everything. And as words continued pouring out, Silverluck found herself unable to even try to ask a question as her entire worldview came crashing down with each and every breath.

"The war was essentially over," Silvertongue started. "Pockets of what was left of Nihila's armies were all that remained of the northern threat. Our next task was constructing the Beacons, to fully divide the world into the northern and southern halves that we have today, to precisely balance the Light and the Dark so that the world would never come under threat again.

"The ponies who remained in the north with me to accomplish this task were those utterly devoted to me and to my ideals, so loyal that they would follow any order, obey any command, perform any task that I asked. Those who I sent south were loyal to me and my ideals, yes, but they would try to stop what was to come next. Not that they could… but I did not want them to try.

"Princess Zayra of Zeb'ra'den was one such ally. I tasked her and most of our remaining forces with an important task that they would relish: constructing the Beacon of the south, and remaining there with her people to protect it until such a time that it was no longer needed. I did not expect any of them to try to return to my side; I'd hoped the Clashing Storm, as the southerners still call it today, would dissuade anyone from trying.

"But before the Storm finished forming…" He paused and took a breath. "First, I must say that I was never gravely wounded, as the reports would have indicated. That was a fabrication of mine to ensure that the southern allies I had would believe that I was dead and that they should move on with their lives. It quite nearly worked.

"Instead, what happened was that I convinced Nihila that I was just as power-hungry as her fallen Warden, Blood Beryl. I convinced her that I would be a suitable replacement, and that my Beacon ploy would ensure that she would be able to build up a new army that the south could never hope to fight against. 

"She believed me, and thus she made me her Warden, so there was a brief moment in time when I was Warden to both Harmonia and Nihila. I did not expect it to extend my lifespan, but it did. An ironic boon, as I'd had plans in place to appoint replacements to carry on my work, but now had no need.

"Nihila was no fool, however, and suspected that my ploy was a trick; she was right, of course, but she underestimated my patience and resolve. To test my new 'loyalty', she tasked me with a grave undertaking: destroying my former allies, the gryphons, with a method so brutal and absolute that surely if I was lying about my loyalty I would be horrified and refuse.

"But the greatest sacrifices require the strongest wills, and I knew that even if it took years, decades, centuries, I could only ever truly defeat Nihila if I maintained the willpower that had gotten me through the entire war." With a breath, he concluded, "So I did it. Using a magical plague of her design, I exterminated the gryphons in a single day, down to the last.

"It was necessary, of course, to maintain the ruse. Nihila took my actions as proof that I was loyal to her and her cause, and so she no longer concerned herself with testing me. She figured that if I was ever truly disloyal to her, that she could simply allow my guilt and suffering over genocide to end my life with little effort on her part.

"What she never knew was that it was not the gryphons' end that I regretted, cold as that may sound. Their sacrifice was merely cold calculus on my part: kill thousands of gryphons now to save millions, billions, of pony lives later." He shook his head. "No, my only regret that day was putting down the one and only creature who stood in my way: Lady Golden Heart.

"I did not know that she had returned north after receiving word that I was dying of an infected injury. She was the only one who saw through that lie, the only one who dared venture north again, knowing that she would never return due to the Storm should she be wrong. She found me easily, mere hours before I would begin my work against the gryphons.

"When she found out what I was attempting to do, she was horrified, of course. Who wouldn't be? And though she tried to convince me that what I was doing was wrong, that it was not too late to turn back, she knew that my resolve was too strong to let even her words sway me from my chosen path." He looked up at the ceiling, despondent. "We both knew what I had to do."

He then let out another sigh and shook his head. "Killing the gryphons was a mere footnote compared to murdering the mare that had captured my heart. The single worst day of my long, long life. And thus began my reign as the Warden of Nihila. For the past several centuries I served her, gaining her trust and earning a place at her side so strong that she did not suspect that I was never loyal to her.

"Seven years ago… well, that is a more complicated tale and one that will be shared at the summit. To sum that up, however, I was given an opportunity to finally enact my plan to destroy Nihila once and for all." 

He gestured with his hoof, and his alone, at Golden Dawn. "My daughter and her sisters were instrumental in the plan. With their help, I destroyed Nihila, and I became a god in her stead." With a tilt of his head, he added as a final note, "That is the extent of the tale that is relevant to you for now. More will be revealed tomorrow."

Silverluck sat still, eyes transfixed on her ancestor's astral form, barely able to comprehend the story that he'd just told her. Lord Silvertongue had been the greatest hero the south had ever known, a stallion who took charge and brought war to Nihila and her armies with a combined force of ponies, zebras, and even gryphons, a feat thought utterly impossible. He was considered a paragon of virtue among the southern ponies and the zebras.

And here he had just told her that for all of a hero and a saint that he was in the south, in the north he was the greatest monster who'd ever lived. She couldn't even express her thoughts verbally; she didn't want to believe a word that was being said, but there was no reason for Silvertongue to lie about this. By the time she was even able to recover her thoughts enough to express anything at all, she only had one question:

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because as a member of House Silver, you deserve to know the truth," Silvertongue said simply. "Everyone—pony and zebra—deserves to know the truth. Now that my life's work is complete, I have no reason to hide myself away in the shadows, to protect this horrible truth from escaping into the light of day."

"And yet you did not reveal this all to us seven years ago, immediately after completing your plans?" Silverluck scoffed.

"No, of course not. Had I done so then, it would have utterly destroyed House Silver's reputation. Your family's entire history has been built upon the legacy that I left; the truth would ruin your lives more than it would mine. I don't care for such things." Silvertongue gestured down at Dawn. "My daughter and her sisters have been working to bind the north and south together eventually. When that time came, the truth would have been revealed, but plans… change."

"Then why reveal it to me now?"

"That will be revealed at the summit tomorrow, but what I will say is that I feel we are past the point where reputation matters, not when lives are at stake. I cannot help those who will not accept it, and I will not force anyone to do otherwise. I am past that point in my life; I am trying to make amends for the atrocities that I committed in the name of protecting our world.

"However, I can understand if you think that this information, once I reveal it to the other delegates tomorrow, will ruin any hopes you have of maintaining friendly ties with the other noble houses. I understand that a representative of House Golden is here; whoever they are, I doubt very much that they would appreciate the knowledge that I murdered Lady Golden Heart."

Silverluck sucked in a breath at that. "No. Lord Golden Shield will very much not appreciate that knowledge. A murder like that, even one committed so long ago, would be grounds for war."

"Exactly. And the south can ill afford a war with what is at stake in the coming weeks. So, if you think I should keep that information from him—"

"No," Silverluck said firmly. "No more secrets. You revealed this story to me, and I want you to reveal it all to him and to all the others exactly as you did here. If House Silver's reputation is ruined, so be it; that is on your actions, not ours. I will work to prevent war as much as I can, but it will be on my own merits. I will work to repair any damage that you caused."

"Hmm…" Silvertongue then gave her a warm smile. "Very good. I had hoped that House Silver was still a noble house of integrity. Your family has built itself upon my legacy, a legacy that ends in tragedy and horror. But you still exemplify the virtues that I extolled when I was still a part of the southern nobility."

"Hmph. This will take a great deal of effort to handle, but of course you're aware of that." Silverluck shook her head, leaning back in her seat and giving out a great, weary sigh. "Our entire bloodline has been tainted by your actions."

Silvertongue raised a curious eyebrow. "How so?"

"What do you mean 'how so'? Your descendents will all be known to share the blood of a pony who committed genocide! I can feel the taint of it on my hooves even now; my great-grandfather many times over is a cold-blooded murderer, a genocidal monster, a traitor."

"Aha. Apparently I need to clarify another inaccuracy. I have no blood descendents. When I first became the Warden of Harmonia, I forsake all of my titles and holdings as a member of House Silver. Certainly I was still a part of the household, but not in the capacity that matters for this topic."

Silverluck blinked. "What? No, that can't be right. We just had a big discussion earlier about the family's genealogy. You had a daughter, Silver Bells. The current main branch of the family all descends from her, and thus from you."

"I… what?" Silvertongue seemed genuinely struck by this, oddly enough. "Silver Bells is not my daughter. She is my half-sister. She is the full-blooded offspring of Lady Silverstone and Lord Greenleaf, born only a year before the war began. Why would…" A pause, then he chuckled and smiled. "Ah. I see. Reputation mattered that much to Mother."

"I'm… I'm not following."

"Tell me, who does the family genealogy claim was the mare with whom I sired Silver Bells?'

"Why, Lady Golden Heart of course. You two were not properly wed, but nopony would have dared argue the legitimacy of the union between Harmonia's Warden and whomever he chose to… ahem, bed." A pause. "Though obviously now…"

He sighed wistfully. "If only that were true…" He shook his head again. "My Heart and I never had foals of our own. The war came too soon following my appointment as Warden, and she was not willing to bring a foal into the world while Nihila was still a threat. It would seem as though my mother altered the family tree slightly."

Silverluck held her head in her hooves; she didn't know why, but she could tell he was being honest here. "Is our entire family's legacy built upon lies?" She shook her head. "I… I need some time to process all of this. It's a lot to take in all at once. I think I might just need a drink."

"Can provide whatever you need," Blackburn quipped from the door; Silverluck had almost forgotten she was even there.

"Yes, well, thank you for that, Your Majesty. Your hospitality is appreciated." Silverluck sighed and rose from her seat, then made for the door, turning to Silvertongue only briefly. "And thank you for telling me all of this, even if it isn't exactly pleasant to hear."

"The truth never is." Silvertongue then gestured with his hoof, and his alone, at Golden Dawn. "If I might ask a favor, Golden Dawn and her sisters are… I consider them my daughters, and they consider me their father. The relation is not by blood, of course, but that is irrelevant. As such, they are your family as well, distant cousins in fact."

"Given how many generations have passed, and that they are your daughters, they would be quite distant cousins indeed. Before I agree to anything of the sort, a question for you: if family means so much to you, why did you allow the New Pandemonium military to kill Queen Silver Glow, my sister?"

Silvertongue frowned. "Ah. That is, unfortunately, a sad coincidence. New Pandemonium and Hope's Point were at war for many years by that point, as Nihila wanted. The NPAF was testing a new weapon that would disrupt the city's shields that day. By chance, King Stormchaser and Queen Silver Glow were killed. They were not targeted specifically, and I didn't order the attack personally."

"Did you know about this?" Silverluck asked, addressing Blackburn.

Blackburn grunted. "Only learned this aspect in past month. Doesn't make it easier." She shook her head and let out a low chuckle. "Never got to tell you: got some form of revenge. Commander in charge of force that killed her? Planted evidence on him, got him executed for treason."

"A clever ploy, and quite amusing to watch at that," Silvertongue quipped. "I was certainly impressed that the new queen was so… devious."

Silverluck looked back to Silvertongue, then sighed again and nodded. "I will accept this news as… an unfortunate accident, in that case, especially if the one who was directly responsible has been suitably punished for his crime. I will consider your request, My Lord."

"Please do. In times like these, family is the most important thing." With a look to Blackburn, then back to her, he added, "No matter how estranged."

Blackburn then stepped aside to allow Silverluck to step out the door. "Anything I can do for you—"

"A good drink to start with," Silverluck grumbled. "And… if you tell me where to find my sister's grave, I would very much like to visit it. I had wanted to hold off until after the summit, but…"

"Of course. Will take you—"

"No. Thank you, but… I need to be alone with her for a little bit."

Blackburn paused, then nodded. "The Garden Room." She pointed off down the hall to the left. "Follow this hall, take left at the end, proceed to main hall. Second floor, first hall on the right, fifth door on the left. Any guard or staff member can provide directions if needed."

"Thank you, Blackburn. We'll… we'll talk later."

Blackburn smiled lightly. "Yes. I would like that."


*****


Silverluck managed to find the Garden Room with ease, as Blackburn's directions had been utterly exact. The room was large and filled with all sorts of beautiful southern plants that grew around the Utopian territories, so Silverluck recognized all of them fairly quickly as the gardens at the family's estate had pretty much the same plants: woolly blue curls, hummingbird sage, beardtongue, blue-eyed grass, bush sunflowers, coffeeberry, and more.

The entire room was kept underneath a set of lights that perfectly replicated southern sunlight, which explained why there had been a basket at the entrance with what the northerners called "shades" or "sunglasses"; they had similar spectacles in the south, particularly in the sunnier regions like Utopia and Newhaven, but they called them dark glasses. Silverluck owned a pair herself, but she hadn't brought them with.

At the far back of the room, Silverluck found a memorial, which declared that Queen Silver Glow of Hope's Point had been buried here after her death nearly thirteen years ago. The grave was surrounded with the most beautiful arrangement of southern flowers that Silverluck had ever seen, more beautiful even than the Utopian Central Gardens back home. Silver Glow always did want to be buried in a garden.

At the bottom of the memorial, Silver Glow was proclaimed to be a kind and loving queen, wife, daughter, sister, and… mother.

Silverluck had never visited this grave, of course. Her family had a memorial at home for her, and though Blackburn had offered to send the body of Silver Glow home, they refused; southern tradition held that she be buried at her spouse's home, which meant Hope's Point. Silverluck knew her parents agreed with it fully—it was tradition, after all—but Silverluck hated the thought of it. Blackburn didn't deserve to have Silver Glow buried here.

"Hello, sister…" Silverluck whispered as she knelt down into the grass around the memorial; it was real grass, just as real as the grass outside her window at home. "I know that I have never visited you in person… and for that, I am sorry. I hope that you can forgive me.

"I'd like to think that I was doing right by you all these years, telling your stepdaughter what I thought of her because of how she treated you. I know that you did not ever hate her… but I did not have the same restraint that you did. I used to think you were a fool every time I read one of your letters. 'How can she still want to bond with that'—" She paused, laughed. "Well, I might have used some rather harsh language in private.

"Blackburn wrote to me twice a year after you died. I never read those letters. She wrote to me once a month after she was married. I never read those either." She sighed, shaking her head. "She wanted to speak privately with me when she visited after her wedding. I refused. Family is everything to us, Glow… and she gave me no reason to believe that she was family.

"But after everything I’ve just learned, all of the truths and lies and cover-ups, I cannot help but think that maybe I've been wrong." She chuckled. "I suppose you begin to rethink things when you learn that you're not who you think you are, that your family’s legacy has been a lie for generations.

"I just wanted to say that… I know that you know I loved you, with all my heart. There have been times when I believed that I was the only pony in this world who truly did. But I know that… that you wouldn't want this. You wanted nothing more than a family. A loving husband, a beautiful daughter of your own. You wouldn't want me fighting with the closest thing to a daughter you could ever have."

She stood back up, lifting up her dark glasses to wipe some tears that had started to cake under her eyes. "Blackburn's right: I've been using your death as a weapon all these years, as an excuse to hate her and distance myself from your family. I think maybe it's time to reevaluate what family really means. I love you, sister. May Harmonia continue to watch over you."

She left the room, depositing the pair of dark glasses in a bin designated for used ones, and was about to head down the hall when she realized that somepony was there, waiting for her. "Your Majesty," she said with a small bow to King Lockwood. "How do you do?"

"I'm doing just fine myself, Lady Silverluck," Lockwood said with a short nod of acknowledgement; he offered her a kerchief that he had tucked into his vest pocket, which she took. "I'm more concerned with how you're doing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Were you listening to me just now?"

"No. I saw you in there, though, and waited out here until you were done. I didn't want to interrupt your moment with your sister. Blackburn tells me that the room was painstakingly created to your sister's specifications after she died; it was incomplete at the time of her death."

"I see. Well… thank you, then, for allowing me some privacy. It's my understanding that there isn't a lot of that to go around here in Hope's Point if Her Majesty wishes to find information."

Lockwood chuckled. "Don't believe everything that you hear. Blackburn knows just about everything that goes on around the city, but she doesn't bug private rooms or spy on folks when they're engaged in private activities. Just, y'know. She likes to be secure."

"I suppose I just don't understand it," Silverluck said with a frown. "Things aren't like that in the south. Paranoia is considered a sign of poor mental health."

"Well up here, it's sometimes the only way that a pony can survive. Or at least that's how it used to be. We're working on improvements." He cleared his throat. "So, I know that you had a chance to speak with your, ah… ancestor. I'm guessing that it didn't quite go the way you would have expected it to go?"

"In a manner of speaking," she replied, not sure if he knew all of the information that had come out into the open earlier. "Why?"

"Well, I just figured I'd let you know that sometimes, family isn't about where you come from, who you can trace your bloodline to, y'know?"

"In the south, that sort of thing means everything. I know it doesn't mean the same up here, but surely you know your family history to some degree?"

He shook his head. "I didn't know my mother well—she died when I was very young—and I thankfully never met the scumbag that sired me. But I still have folks who took me into their home when I needed them most. They're my family. Blood doesn't factor into it."

Silverluck snorted, though she hadn't intended it to be unpleasant. "Hmph. There might just be a lesson in there that you're trying to teach me."

"I suppose so. Let me get to the point: I'd very much like to invite you to partake in dinner with the family. Blackburn and myself, of course, as well as our kids, my parents and my other siblings. And another new addition, of course: Rarity. Er, Lady Rarity. I think you'll like her a lot. Blackburn thinks so too."

Silverluck tilted her head. "This 'Lady' Rarity is a new addition to the family? I was unaware Hope's Point had noble houses in the first place. Did she marry one of your brothers? I assume you have brothers as you mentioned siblings earlier."

"Er, no. It's… well, it's not actually all that complicated. But it's not something we should discuss out in the hall, hmm? What d'ya say? Dinner tonight with everypony?'

"Hmm… very well. You make a persuasive argument, and thus I shall accept your invitation, Your Majesty," Silverluck said with a small smile.

"Wonderful," Lockwood replied. "I'll let Blackburn know. She'll be tickled pink to know you're coming."

"I imagine she would be, yes." A pause. "She… truly does regret how she acted towards Silver Glow, then?"

Lockwood nodded, his eyes looking past Silverluck towards the grave of Silver Glow. "She's mentioned as much to me many, many times. It's one of the few things in her life that she wishes she could actually change."

"Hmm." Silverluck then bowed again. "I thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty. I will retire to my quarters for the time being, until I receive further notification of dinner."

"A pleasure then, Lady Silverluck," Lockwood replied with a nod and a smile. "Until tonight. Bring your appetite!"

Silverluck laughed; it was a northern saying, and one that she'd found amusing the first time she'd heard it. Southern dinners were about formality and conversation; feasts were a different story altogether.

As Silverluck made her way past Lockwood and down the hall, she took a deep breath and let her mind begin turning over the day's events. Today had certainly been… momentous. A lesser pony than she might have fainted, their weak hearts unable to handle the stress. But Silverluck was no weak-willed filly. Her father would not have entrusted this summit to her if he did not think she could handle it.

And handle it she would; with Harmonia as her witness, she was going to handle this.


*****


Sir Zircon had heard of the reputation of Hope's Point's military many, many times before. He had seen their great airship contraptions from a distance on occasion, and though he did not understand how they worked or what they were truly capable of, he viewed them as akin to seafaring vessels and thus believed that what most folks meant was that Hope's Point's fleet was invincible. Not their troops, but their navy. Air navy?

And yes, that was certainly something worth bragging about and being proud of as a citizen of this strange northern country with its bizarre rules about clothes and its strange gizmos and gadgets. But it wasn't satisfactory to Zircon, no no, not in the least. A fine navy would defend the city's southern borders, yes, and since their navy could fly, perhaps their northern borders too.

But what would happen should the enemy—whomever that might be—get through the gates and storm the walls? Who would defend the city when their foes were in their very streets? They needed soldiers for that, and he had heard that the Hope's Point militia contained some of the best soldiers in the world, but that remained to be seen.

So, curious, he ventured out from the royal palace towards the militia's headquarters that evening, to where they supposedly trained and lived and learned together as a single unit. He got directions from the helpful staff members at the palace itself, particularly a cleaning mare who had been particularly forthcoming.

The building wasn't hard to find once he knew where it was, and reminded him a little bit of Blackfire Keep, the fortress that the Order of the Black Flame—his knightly order—used as their own base of operations. It was larger, certainly, but not nearly as grand in his opinion. He had no idea what the material they'd built it from was, but it certainly wasn't any stone or metal he recognized.

The staff members at the barracks were accommodating, which pleased Zircon to say the least. "I am visiting from Zeb'ra'den as an advisor to Ambassador Zultan," he'd said. "I hath been curious for many years about how the soldiers of Hope's Point train for battle. Couldst thou showeth me to their training yard?"

And just like that, he was escorted through the building to what the staff member—a fit young mare with glasses—called the "training facility", rather than the yard. Zircon understood immediately why there was a difference in the name, as this "facility" was far better equipped than the training yards at home, even the one at Blackfire Keep, and also far larger.

All of the ponies were engaged in a variety of training exercises and body-building activities, and so Zircon was already impressed. Keeping one's body in shape was as necessary to being a good soldier as keeping one's mind sharp and one's skills honed.

He observed as the militia's unicorns exercised their bodies and magics in unison with weights, as the pegasi worked both their legs and wings in tandem with strange devices that moved both the air and ground, as the earth ponies strengthened their muscles with stretches, weights, and other exercises. Though Zircon did not know what many of the devices did or how they worked, the sheer volume of sweat on display indicated that nopony was slacking.

Next he went over to what the staff called a "firing range", which reminded him of an archery range only more… automated? The ponies fired their strange "guns" at targets down a range just like any other, but they did not require another pony to move and adjust targets for them; the targets moved of their own accord, surely another sign of northern technology in action.

Zircon did not approve of these "guns", however. He wasn't fond of archery personally, but he understood the need for archers in the ranks and valued their skills. There was just something he found distasteful about these weapons. Maybe it was their sheer killing power: a single soldier with just one of the smaller guns could "fire" ten "rounds" at a target faster than an archer could let loose two arrows. And they were loud, too, not at all quiet like arrows and bolts.

So uncivilized.

After watching the display for a few moments, unsure what to make of it all, he moved over to a part of the facility where the ponies would hone their hoof-to-hoof skills, and this interested Zircon greatly. 

What sort of style did the militia train in, he wondered? He rarely fought without his runic blade, but as a Knight of the Black Flame, he was expected to fight in hoof-to-hoof combat if need be. He himself had trained in the fourth style, as it benefited from his size and strength.

He watched several of these ponies train for several minutes, however, and he found them lacking. They moved with quick, precise motions and strikes, reminiscent of Seaside's Agua Bailando style, better known as Water Dancing, only without weapons and with more impact in the blows. All very nice and it looked fancy and pretty to an outsider, but it only really benefited smaller, faster users. The larger ponies just looked sluggish.

But then his attention was drawn over to another pair of ponies training, one a larger stallion, red with a blond mane, the other a mare, orange with a blonde mane. Siblings, perhaps; their eyes had a slight familial resemblance, as did their mane colors. The mare's tail was curiously short; perhaps it was some sort of, what did they call it, "fashion statement"? 

Northerners were strange.

The stallion was one of the bigger, bulkier types, but he was also rather smooth with how he moved, and he definitely wasn't using the same style as the other ponies he'd seen thus far. His movements and strikes were backed by sheer strength of muscle; he could move fast because he had strong legs; he could hit hard for the same reason. A pony like that would be tearing the other ponies in the room apart in a straight fight.

The mare, though, was something else. It was rare for a pony to have any sort of knowledge of zebra hoof-to-hoof fighting techniques, and while she wasn't perfect, she seemed to have a pretty good knowledge of the fifth style. She was quick on her hooves but he could tell by the way she struck that she had power behind her blows, more than the average mare her size should have. 

This was probably why she was training in style five; most zebra mares trained in two or three, but that was typically to take advantage of their smaller frames. This mare had too much muscle for style two or three, that was easy enough to see through her form-fitting clothing.

Watching the two spar was like watching a pair of dancers who were trying to hit each other hard enough to knock one another off their hooves. Back, and forth, left, and right, turn, turn, and so on. Elegant yet brutal; the ideal combat. Yes, Zircon liked these two northerners already; they knew what it meant to be a warrior.

After a few back and forths between the two trading blows, they backed off to breathe and recuperate, drinking from bottles of water they had sitting at a nearby bench. Another curiosity of the north; naturally Zircon knew what a bottle was, but theirs were not made of glass like what he was accustomed to, instead made of some sort of other translucent material.

The pair noticed him watching once they'd taken a moment to relax. "Uh, hey there," the stallion said, raising an eyebrow. "Can we help you?"

"Aye, perhaps thou canst be of assistance," Zircon replied, stepping over the rope-like fence that kept the two from spilling their sparring session out into the rest of the facility. "I hath been observing the other militia ponies for some time, but until I didst gaze upon this display, I was not impressed with what I saw."

The two shared a brief look at one another. "Uh, I think I got the gist of that," the stallion said. "You've been watching everypony sparring and didn't like it, but you really liked us?"

"Aye, 'tis the gist of my statement," Zircon said with a smile. "Thou hast a unique style compared to the others I hath seen thus far. Thou hast a purpose in thy movements, a power behind thine actions. I commend thee on thy training and skill; thou wouldst be a fearsome opponent.

"And for thee," he said, turning to the mare, "'tis unusual to findeth a pony trained in any of the Zeb'ra'den styles of hoof-to-hoof combat, and for a mare such as thee to be trained in that particular style. Thine instructor wouldst be proud of thy technique, as proud as any master wouldst be of a student who doth possess such skill."

The mare held up her hoof. "Hoo doggie, I ain't understood a word y'all just said there. I mean, I caught a thing or two 'bout hoofs 'n' zebras 'n' styles but ya sprinkled it with a bunch o' words I just ain't gettin'. Shoot, I thought Luna was bad."

Zircon raised an eyebrow; the mare's accent was a thick Newhaven drawl, which was… unfortunate, as he'd always had trouble understanding it. "Wouldst I be correct in assuming that thou didst not understanding my meaning?"

"Uh, I think so. What's wit' all the 'thou' stuff? Like, what in the hay does 'doth' mean?"

"It's Old Equish," the stallion explained. "The zebras don't use Modern Equish. 'Thou' means 'you', 'doth' means 'does'."

The mare let out an amused snort. "Shucks, alright then, so it is just like Luna, only… uh, moreso." She turned back to Zircon. "So, uh… I guess ya said somethin' 'bout likin' my style or somethin' there, Mister Thou?"

Zircon tilted his head. "'Mister Thou'?"

"Yup. 'swhat I'm gonna call ya 'till ya feel like tellin' me yer name there, buckaroo."

Zircon wanted to ask what in the world a "buckaroo" was. Maybe later.

"Ah! Apologies. In mine excitement I didst forget to properly introduce myself." Zircon cleared his throat and nodded his head respectfully. "I am Sir Zircon of the Knights of the Black Flame, sworn protectors of Zeb'ra'den. I hath come here to Hope's Point on diplomatic business; Ambassador Zultan didst request my presence at this summit in an advisory role."

"Ohhh, you're one of the delegates that arrived earlier," the stallion said with a grin. "You probably already met my wife then. Ambassador Gray Skies?"

"Truly?" Zircon said, eyes slightly wide; oh yes, he had met the pegasus ambassador. She was most impressive. "The giantess hath claimed thee as her husband?"

The stallion let out a loud laugh. "Ha! Giantess! Yes, you've definitely met my wife. And yeah, she definitely, uh, 'claimed' me. I mean, you've met her, do you really think any stallion would be able to say 'no' if she walked up to 'em and said 'you, you're mine now'? 'Cause I didn't."

Zircon laughed as well. "Aha! Thou art an amusing fellow, good sir, with a fine taste in mares. What is thy name?"

"Flathoof," the stallion said, offering his hoof to Zircon; Zircon took it and gave it a shake, as they had the gesture even in Zeb'ra'den. "Captain Flathoof, if we're being formal. I don't know how that stacks up against a knight or anything."

"Hmm. I am unacquainted with military ranks here in Hope's Point, but if 'tis anything like the captain of a ship, thou art an important sort, Captain Flathoof. A pleasure to make thine acquaintance." He turned to the mare. "And thou art?"

The mare rubbed her temple. "Shoot, it's like listenin' ta Golden Dawn if'n she started recitin' them fancy Shake Spear plays back home," she grumbled. With a smile though, she offered her hoof to Zircon as well, but in the traditional masculine sense, appropriate as she seemed like a soldier. "Name's Applejack. Just Applejack."

Zircon nodded as he took and shook her hoof. "And a pleasure to make thine acquaintance as well, 'just' Applejack. Might I ask who hath instructed thee in the fifth style of zebra hoof-to-hoof combat? The thought hast been in my head ever since I didst observe thy sparring."

"Uh, I don't know nothin' 'bout no zebra styles or whatnot. I learned how ta scrap from my brother. A mare's gotta know how ta protect herself, yessir."

"Aha." Zircon turned to Flathoof. "Then thou hast taught her well, Captain."

Flathoof held up a hoof. "I'm not her brother. Not really, anyhow. We're close like brother and sister, but there's no blood there." With a look to Applejack, he added, "Though this wouldn't be the first time somepony's confused me for your brother, right? First time it's come from a stranger at least."

"Heh. Right," chuckled Applejack.

Zircon nodded. "Hmm. Well, then if I should never get a chance to meet thy brother, Applejack, wouldst tell commend him for me, for training thee so well?"

"I mean, sure, I guess? Y'all thought it was that good, huh?"

"Quite good, yes. Not perfect, but mine eyes do not lie: there is much skill in thy technique. More practice can only benefit thee further."

"That's what we've been doing," Flathoof said with a nod. "Practicing. She's getting a lot better, and faster too." He rolled his left shoulder, rubbing it with his right. "And she hits like a damn sack of bricks."

Zircon smiled at Applejack. "Well, then I am most curious. Applejack, wouldst thou indulge me with a spar?"

Applejack looked at him wide-eyed. "Uh, ya wanna spar wit' me?"

"That was the gist of my question. I hath trained extensively in the fourth style of combat, which hast been acknowledged by many as the superior form compared to first, second, and third. Fifth, however, didst develop as a counter to the fourth; I wouldst like to see how thou farest against me."

"Uh… sure, if ya think ya can handle me. I warn ya now, I pack a mean kick."

Zircon stepped over to the bench where there was ample room to remove some of his gear, namely his armor—his runic sword was required to remain in his guest chambers unless he was "on duty" as Her Majesty put it—and his cloak. This left him in just his under armor, a simple cloth tunic which only served the purpose of preventing chafing of leather against coat and skin.

He and Applejack stepped to opposite sides of the small "ring" that their training area consisted of, and didn't waste time settling into fighting stances. She was low to the ground, hindquarters slightly raised for leverage; she couldn't move fast from side to side in the stance, but that's not what the style was meant for.

It was meant to hit hard, which was why it countered fourth style so well, as the basic stance that Zircon adopted was built around defending from weaker, quicker blows and striking back at what was typically a smaller opponent. A strong enough blow typically would force him to either back off or hope he was strong enough to block it.

Applejack moved first, leaping forward and swiveling in mid-air so that when she landed, she could deliver a powerful kick with her hind legs. Zircon braced himself for the blow, protecting his neck and chin with his hooves. He could feel the power from her blow when her hooves impacted his; a lesser zebra than he would have probably ended up with a bruised ankle, or worse.

Impressive.

But, because her technique still needed some work, she wasn't as quick leaping back into a defensive position—or maybe she was just surprised that he'd taken the blow straight-on like that—and that left her vulnerable. He was able to push her hindlegs away and knock her off her balance, which left her open to a blow to the ribs from the side.

She was fast, though, so his strike didn't hit with full-contact, just a glancing blow. And she was quick to respond in kind, swinging her legs around to try and hit him in the side of the head. He only barely raised his hoof to block it, and he was glad that she didn't have the proper leverage to hit with the same power as her earlier strike; even for him, that would've hurt.

The back-and-forth trading of blows continued for a few minutes, and Zircon was honestly impressed not just that she was keeping up with him, but that he was able to handle her strength. A master of the fifth style, with her strength behind it, should be breaking him in half. She was strong, but unrefined, and that just made her interesting; with proper training, she'd be as good of a fighter as most of the Order.

His real advantage in this sparring session wasn't entirely due to experience or skill, but more that she wasn't fighting at her best, having finished sparring with Captain Flathoof moments ago. He wasn't surprised when she decided to pull back and lift her forehooves up to indicate that she wanted to stop.

"Hoo boy… y'all sure know what you're doin' there," she breathed as she wobbled over to the bench to take a drink of water. She even winced and put a hoof to her ribs; he'd grazed her there more than a few times. "Land sakes, you don't hold back neither, do ya?"

"Bringing anything less than one's best to a sparring contest is an insult to thine opponent," Zircon said with a firm nod. "I wouldst not disparage thy skill by giving to thee anything less than my best."

"Well shucks, I hope y'all don't mind that I wasn't quite fightin' like I should've been, then. Flats 'n' I were trainin' fer maybe an hour 'fore you showed up. I'm pooped, I tell ya what."

Zircon smiled. "Then perhaps we shalt spar again when thou art not 'pooped'. 'Tis an exciting prospect. I might require stretches prior to our duel, lest I pull a muscle."

She laughed, then held her rib again. "Ha, d-don't make me laugh, Mister Thou. It smarts somethin' fierce."

His smile became more of a smirk; he understood enough about pony culture to know that some ponies liked to give nicknames to others as a showing of respect and camaraderie, typically something humorous. So he did not mind the "Mister Thou" moniker. He would need to think of one that he could give to her, a showing of mutual respect of course.

"I think we're all done for the day, AJ," Flathoof said, patting Applejack on the shoulder. "Why don't you go hit the showers."

Aha. "AJ". 'Tis a clever nickname, as it doth use her initials, Zircon thought. Though it might hath more of a personal nature to it. I shouldst not use it myself lest I offend her.

Applejack nodded, rolled her shoulders, and hopped off the bench. She smiled and offered a hoof to Zircon before she left to… "hit the showers", whatever that meant. "Nice meetin' ya, Zircon. You sure know how ta scrap, an' that's the truth."

Zircon shook her hoof and smiled back. "And thee as well, Applejack, if I am correct that 'scrap' means 'fight'. With more practice, thou wouldst be a fine warrior indeed." A pause. "Shouldst thou wishest for further advice and training, I am to be here in Hope's Point for several days' time."

She tilted her head. "You offerin' ta help wit' my trainin'?"

"Aye. If I am not otherwise preoccupied with my duties, I wouldst not be opposed to lending mine expertise to thee."

"Well shucks, that's mighty kind o' y'all." She leaned over slightly. "That alright wit' you, Flats?"

Flathoof nodded. "Hey, the way I see it, you need all the help you can get, rookie," he chuckled.

"Har har."

Applejack hopped over the rope-like fence and made her way towards a different section of the barracks, leaving Zircon alone with Flathoof. Zircon watched her go and noted, quietly to himself, that a mare like her was quite a rarity indeed, even amongst zebras. By sheer happenstance he'd come across some sort of pony prodigy. An amusing coincidence that he was here, in this city, in this building, at this time.

The good captain gave Zircon a polite nod. "Hey, I appreciate that offer of yours, if you're serious about it. Applejack's got plenty of reason to want to fight at her best, so I mean it: all the help she can get, she needs."

Zircon raised an eyebrow. "Is she going to war?"

"In a way. You'll learn more about it at the summit tomorrow." Flathoof clapped Zircon on the shoulder and gave him a wide grin. "And hey, as the husband of the giantess ambassador, welcome to Hope's Point."

Zircon shared a laugh with Flathoof, glad to see that maybe these northerners weren't all so bad after all. At least some of them knew how to fight like a true warrior. He would very much enjoy spending more with these two, that he could say for certain.