//------------------------------// // Chapter 21: Twilight’s Guide to Cheering Up a Princess // Story: Our Little Brother, Spike // by Hope Caster //------------------------------// The moment Twilight Sparkle heard that Princess Celestia had returned from her two-week trip, she remained in her seat at her desk until she’d carefully marked the page she was on in her book, carefully placed the book into her saddlebags, slung the saddlebags over her back – and then she rushed straight out her parents’ front door and towards the Palace as fast as her little legs could carry her, ignoring the cries of her babysitter, who’d brought her the wonderful news. Fortunately, Twilight did not have far to go, living close to the Palace as she did. The front gate was the usual hustle and bustle of activity that Twilight was familiar with. Mainly petitioners and tourists, for the Princess kept an open house, but also the usual assortment of serving-staff. She skilfully wove between the legs of many a startled maid, disregarding their indignant yelps along with the calls to halt from the Royal Guards stationed at the portcullis. A small filly’s ability to disappear into such a throng, in fact, was the very thing which had allowed her to get this far when pursued by a babysitter who could fly. But upon the exposed space of the drawbridge, this was where Twilight’s luck ran out. Her ears only had time to pick up a sound of beating wings, before Princess Cadance caught up to her, the junior alicorn’s aura stopping Twilight dead in her tracks and promptly lifting her up in the air. It wasn’t long until Cadance was scolding her for having ignored the Guards and caused a small ruckus. “But I wanna see the Princess!” Twilight whined, flailing helplessly in Cadance’s blue-tinged aura. “And I’m sure, no, I know she’d love to see you,” Cadance said, more gently now, “but that doesn’t mean we get to treat the rule as if they didn’t apply to us, like they do for everyone. It’s important the Guards know who you are and why you’re here. Also, you know better than to run about, Twilight. You could crash into a pony and get hurt.” Cadance turned Twilight to face the two Guards on duty. “So. What do we say to the Guards?” Twilight sighed, her head bowing. “Sorry for not stopping and stating my business, Mister Guards.” The pair of armoured stallions, Hulking Mass and Hulking Brute– not for the first time, Twilight could thank her photographic memory, as so many of the Guards looked alike in their armour without them having confusingly-similar names – gave differing responses to her apology. “Don’t let it happen again,” growled Hulking Mass, glaring at the filly. It so happened that he practiced his death glare every day after work, despite getting teased about it by his wife. Sure, here was a Guard wasting a perfectly good death glare on a filly, but he rarely got to use it in the real world, normally relying on his patented warning glare, which was less intimidating, although usually still fairly effective. Hulking Brute thumped his friend’s shoulder. He gave Twilight a stern look of his own, but it was friendlier than what Hulking Mass had given her. “We forgive you, Twilight. Just don’t let it happen again.” “I won’t.” Having seemingly decided Twilight was sufficiently chastened, Cadance put her back down. This time, Twilight couldn’t help looking back at her babysitter, as if quietly asking for some sign of her approval. A tiny nod from Cadance let her know everything was alright now. “Go on,” Cadance smiled. “I’ll be waiting for you back here. Just don’t take too long, okay?” Relieved, Twilight turned around, beginning a power-trot towards Celestia’s room, found somewhere at the top of the Palace’s many towards. She knew it was there the Princess liked to retire after a long and tiring trip on princess business. Thinking of Princesses made Twilight think, once again, about how unusual it was to have one for a babysitter. Her very own Princess, who’d sometimes play with her and her pogona lizard, yet was just fine with helping Twilight do her homework, answering any questions she had. When they’d met, Twilight had asked if Cadance was Celestia’s daughter, wondering if that was why she too had both wings and a horn. To which Cadance had just smiled her lovely white smile and shaken her head and said no, she wasn’t, although she was distantly related to Celestia. Cadance did mention there was a whole story about how she became an alicorn, involving an enchantress and her growing up in an earthpony village, and she’d offered to tell it as a bedtime story if Twilight wanted her. But Twilight hadn’t felt too interested in that, preferring instead to probe Cadance with scientific questions about being an alicorn. Twilight lost that trail of thought as she arrived at Celestia’s bedroom. After coughing to herself, she gently knocked on the door, recalling it was rude to just barge in. However, she didn’t wait to open, and spotting Celestia lying on a large pillow, Twilight made her move.  “Princess!” the little unicorn cried in delight, as she rushed to wrap her legs around the Princess’s neck. Celestia, who’d been staring out the window towards her setting sun, was momentarily caught off guard, before smiling at her student. “Well, hello, Twilight. I take it you missed me?” “Yeah! The archives were fun, but everyone I brought wasn’t interested!” Twilight rambled. “The girls wanted to get ice cream, all Flash wanted to read about was knights, at least Timber wanted to learn geography and geology– but he only wanted to look at the pictures! Then Lyra was looking for research on her fantasy race. She shouted conspiracy when she couldn’t find anything! The guards kicked us out when they called her crazy and she kicked one in the shin. Princess, you wouldn't have a magic doorway to another world somewhere in the castle, would you?” At this, Celestia could feel the beads of sweat gathering on her forehead. “No.” Celestia very quickly said, recalling exactly what happened to the last unicorn who’d found the magic doorway to the Mirrorworld. She hadn’t seen them in years now, and it was a loss which still weighed heavily on her and on Cadance. “Why did you leave, anyway? I kept asking around but no-one would tell me.” That was done on purpose. Before leaving, Celestia had instructed Kibitz to make sure scarcely anyone knew she was away on business. Her butler and the others who knew were under strict orders to say nothing to Twilight, lest they worry the anxiety-prone filly beyond all reason. She couldn’t have that. Cadance and Blueblood had looked worried enough. “Business,” Celestia said simply. “Being a Princess means that I have to sometimes meet with other Royals, no matter how long or hard a task it is.”  “Who’d you meet with?” Celestia hated herself for lying to, or even misleading her student. She was accustomed to employing a little guile in how she taught Twilight, given her secret hopes for what the filly may do in future, who she may become. Hopes which thus far only Cadance was privy to. Yet if she wanted to put her hope in Twilight, Celestia knew she’d have to put her trust in her as well. Alas, certain things were just not right for one still so young. The little unicorn would grow, and grow more involved as well, over time. Let her be spared for now. “I would like to tell you more, Twilight,” sighed Celestia, “but I fear that’s confidential. However,” she expertly added without breaking her pace, forestalling the inevitable disappointment in Twilight’s eyes, “would you like it if I told you about a stopover I made? Well, I thought of making. I don’t believe your lessons have covered King Scorpan of Arcania yet.”  In truth, King Scorpan had become something of a recluse in the last few years. If, and it was a very powerful ‘if’, Celestia kept any contact with Arcania, it went through Haydon, the King’s mother and former Queen Consort. Twilight Sparkle puffed up her cheeks. She hated it when things were confidential. That meant she couldn’t know things.  Her adorably scrunched-up face did wonders for Celestia’s mood, brightening the Princess’s smile.  “Twilight, I thank you for the hug,” Celestia said, ruffling the filly’s mane, “but I’ve got a big day tomorrow and I need some rest. I’ll be sure to make time for you the day after.” “Okay.” Twilight mumbled, giving the Princess’s long leg one last hug. “I’ll see you then.” “Yes, you will see me then.” The next day came, and Twilight sat in her history class. At the front was not their usual teacher, but a stallion named Polymath, the Dean of Admissions. Twilight couldn’t tell why she got the feeling that he disliked her. All she knew was that she often found herself ignored whenever she tried to answer his questions. The fact was that Polymath hated subbing for any teacher in the School for Gifted Unicorns. He couldn’t fault that he was so frequently in demand, the school being very selective about its staff, and he had all the certifications required. Only, subbing meant he’d inevitably come face-to-face with Twilight Sparkle. Not that the Princess’s personal student was what annoyed him. Polymath looked at the gaggle of all the other unicorn students staring at him blankly, and knew that none of them were going to try to, nor could they, answer the question. “Can anyone– besides Twilight Sparkle,” said he, looking directly at Twilight to put her hoof down, “tell me who founded Equestria as a nation?” Silence filled the classroom. Twilight’s class rarely had to try. With someone like her present, they could all rely on her to answer for them. How was anyone supposed to learn in a situation like that? “Minuette,” Polymath said, deciding to call on students at random. “Please give me an answer.” “Uh, Princess Celestia?” “No. Sorry. Though She is our longest-reigning monarch, she did not found Equestria. She did participate in the foundation of Canterlot, though. Good try. Twinkleshine, you’re up. Please tell us who founded Equestria.” “Starswirl the Bearded!” Yet another wrong answer. “Good try, but no. Starswirl founded many councils that acted as a government, and even a group of heroes known as the Pillars of Equestria, but he did not found the nation.” Still, at least the students knew the important figures. “Lyra Heartstrings, please–” “Lauren Faust!” the little mint-green unicorn cried out. That was on him. Despite knowing better than to call on the crazy one, he’d done so anyway. “No. Alright, Moondancer, do you know?” Moondancer had something of a rivalry with Twilight, a very one-sided, near-obsessive rivalry. If there was one student that was close to being another Twilight, who could answer the question, it was her. “Gusty the Great,” Moondancer answered. “She founded the kingdom after usurping the previous ruler, Emperor Grogar.” “I’m sorry, but that’s incorrect, close though, very close.” She had even mentioned the right answer, but her overall answer was wrong. At this, Moondancer looked down at her desk, embarrassed. “Gusty the Great was considered to be the first leader of the Kingdom, in fact she named this land Equestria. Yet while she did rule over the nation for a brief time, she did not found it.”  His eyes met Lemon Hearts’, who slowly sunk into her seat and beneath her desk until only the tip of her horn was visible. “Alright,” sighed Polymath, resigned, “homework tonight, I want detailed essays on the founder of Equestria from everyone. Two pages minimum, a maximum of ten pages for you, Twilight. Speaking of; Twilight Sparkle, who founded Equestria?” Twilight’s face brightened. “Originally called Tambelon,” she lectured, “the nation was founded by Emperor Grogar, otherwise known as Grogar the Knowledgeable and Grogar the Cruel. There is a long-standing debate amongst scholars over whether or not he should be given credit as the founder of the nation, but considering that Gusty the Great maintained the structures he established, and the nation’s borders, he is at the very least to be considered an instrumental figure in our nation's founding, if not the founder.”  “Correct. Thank you, Twilight.” Just then the door to the class opened, and in walked Princess Celestia. Not an uncommon sight. There were times when the Princess would observe the teachers and students to make sure everything was running smoothly. Today, instead of silently lingering in the back, Celestia came to stand at the front, next to him. “Well now, on the topic of Equestria’s rulers, it seems we have a special guest. Princess Celestia herself! Afternoon, Princess.” “Princess!” Twilight happily shouted, standing up in her seat. “Princess! Princess!” She began to wave her hooves in a bid to gain the Princess’s attention, eliciting a soft, amused chuckle from Celestia. “Hello, Twilight, and hello class,” Celestia said, waving to the foals. The students began to break down into hushed whispers, wondering why the Princess was in their class, with some of the more rambunctious students fearing they were in trouble again. “Alright, alright!” Polymath said. “We are still in class, so please remain quiet,” The clamors and whispers began to die down, but there was still the occasional whisper or two. “Princess, I am pleased to welcome you into the class. What can we do for you?” Celestia gave the stallion a smile. “I apologize for barging in like this, Polymath, but I needed to speak with you outside.” She leaned in and began to whisper. “It’s regarding a new specification for the entrance exam. There’s a foal I’m hearing good things about and I want to up the difficulty for them, just to see if they’re as good as they say.” “Ah, I see. Well, couldn’t it wait until after class?” “No, no, no,” Celestis said quietly. “I’m trying to get him tested tomorrow. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but could I count on you?” “I suppose so, but we still have a good hour before class is dismissed–” “Oh, no need to worry about that.” Celestia turned to face the foals. “Class, I have a surprise for you. You’re all getting an early recess!” Nearly all foals let out a roaring cheer, only to be drowned out by Twilight’s ear-splitting cry of despair. Unbeknownst to them, however, Celestia was no longer smiling as she led Polymath outside. He himself did not suspect a thing as they headed towards his office. What place is more natural for the Princess to hold a discussion with the Dean of Admissions? The true surprise would be that Celestia already had two Guards waiting for them. Later that day, Twilight could tell Celestia was upset about something. It irked that she didn’t know what. Perhaps that didn’t matter, because Twilight had something which would cheer the Princess up instantly. Cookies. If there was one thing that made Twilight feel better, it was her Mom’s freshly-baked cookies. So, it stood to reason that if Celestia was upset, her Mom’s cookies would make her feel better. They were even chocolate-chip cookies. Who didn’t like a freshly-baked chocolate-chip cookie? She went over her list one last time. Cookies? Check. A long declaration of devotion to her studies and her admiration for Celestia herself? Check. A well-practiced hug, given the stamp of approval by both her parents? Check. Her pet pogona lizard fed, his drinking-water changed, and the mister installed to assist with his shed? Check, check, and check.  Everything was perfect until she bumped into the last pony she wanted to see that day. “Blueblood,” Twilight sneered. Prince Astron III Vladimir Blueblood, last descendant of House Platinum, nephew to Celestia herself. Twilight didn’t like Blueblood at all, from his stupid snow-white coat, down to his stupid golden hair, to his stupid baby-blue eyes, to the stupid basket he was carrying. Normally, Blueblood would be off at his fancy Manehattan boarding school, but unfortunately he was home for the weekend on a visit. The worst part of Blueblood was his ego. He thought that just because he was the Princess’s nephew he could do whatever he wanted, like eat lunch thirty minutes before noon, an extra cookie before dinner, or be mean to her brother by saying things like, ‘Aren’t you a little old to be playing with toys?’  There was nothing more insulting to Shining than calling his hobbyist miniatures ‘toys’. Shining had repeatedly told her that HyperSpace HyperWars was a very serious hobby with official tournaments. Blueblood was just too dense to understand that. Sure, both Cadence and their mother would tell Shining the exact same thing verbatim, and even Twilight thought Shining’s time could be better spent on practicing magic – or on studies, considering the grade on his last math test – but for some reason Blueblood saying it felt so much worse. “Oh, Miss Sparkle. You’re here. With Auntie being busy, I thought that you’d be at the library all day.”  “No!” Twilight huffed. “Miss Pages gave me a time limit after the last time. I can only stay in the library for an hour. Any longer and I need someone to chaperone me.” She peered into the basket the Prince was holding, and saw three golden apples. “Are those from the garden? The Princess doesn’t like people stealing her apples.” “Indeed, which is why I already asked for permission.” “A likely story!” Twilight scoffed. “What are they for, then?” Blueblood let his lips droop a fraction of a degree. “They’re gifts for one of my friends at boarding school. Come summer break, she’ll no longer be attending, in order to pursue other opportunities. I wanted to do something nice for her before she left.” Another likely story. “What’s this friend’s name?” Twilight said in a very accusatory tone. “Apple Jewel.” Apple Jewel. What kind of fake made-up name was Apple Jewel? It was like the names Lyra spouted up, like Brad, Chad, or Bryan. Twilight gave him a look of warning before proceeding on to Celestia’s room. The door opened with a loud creek, earning the Princess’s attention. “Hmm?” Celestia turned to see her student. “Oh, Twilight. I thought I told the guards–” Celestia looked past the filly and saw her Guards each eating a freshly baked chocolate-chip cookie, with a second suspended in their auras. Their eyes met hers, and they took a step to the side, out of her sight. “Of course. Who could deny a filly with cookies.” Celestia chuckled, opening a wing and welcoming her. Twilight placed the tin next to Celestia, and took a seat, eagerly waiting for the Princess to take one. Celestia ate one cookie and smiled brightly. There was nothing that could cheer someone up quite like a chocolate-chip cookie. “Thank you, Twilight. I didn’t know how much I needed that.” “So you’re feeling better?” Twilight asked. “Much. Thank you.” Twilight beamed a moment, before her eyes looked at the pictures before Celestia. It took her another moment to recognize one of the contents. “Is that a galapagos tortoise egg?” “Beg pardon?” Celestia asked. Twilight pointed to one of the eggs in the pictures. “That’s a galapagos egg. And there’s a platypus egg! Oh, that’s a sea turtle egg! I thought those were illegal to own.” “They are. Twilight, how do you know what eggs these are?” “I’m doing a report on endangered species! Laws regarding conservation protect eggs, so I have an entire section on protected eggs with pictures and everything!” Celestia nodded, impressed. She would likely call an expert to verify some of Twilight’s claims, but part of her knew she could take Twilight’s word as gospel. Her student was nothing if not thorough.  “Do you mind if I help you name these?” Celestia nodded, and Twilight was allowed to stay for a bit, naming any eggs she thought she knew. After a half-hour, and half the cookies in the tin, a good fourth of the pictures of eggs had names under them, nearly all of them illegal to own.  “Thank you, Twilight, you’ve been a tremendous help. Now, I need you to run along, I still have some work to do.” Twilight beamed and started for the door, only to remember Blueblood. “Oh, Princess, Blueblood had a few golden apples–” “He asked if he could have some, and I said yes. No need to think he’s stealing.” “Even if this friend is made up? I mean, what girl could stand Blueblood?” When Celestia considered the love letters he would often receive from classmates, or the suggestions she often received from nobles for an arranged marriage, and legion of mares that cared more for the Prince part of his name than Blueblood himself, the answer was obvious to her. Many could. Which was why she’d taken particular interest in Apple Jewel when Blueblood said he’d made a friend. “I’ve done some looking into his friend. She exists, and I hear she enjoys her time with Blueblood.” That was an understatement. Celestia had looked into who she was, who her family was, and even if she had any evil twins to worry about. Fortunately, there were no red flags to speak of. The filly in question only had an older brother, and an adorable little sister. As was common for her peers, Apple Jewel was a filly descended from the noble House of Apple, and the Pear Family which was a noble house in all but name. Celestia had ennobled Apple Jewel’s great-grandfather, Appleseed, decades ago, his title of Baron of Ponyville now held by his daughter. On her mother’s side was another large family headed by Grand Pear, a pear mogul. From the reports, they were all nice ponies, and she was happy that Blueblood got along so well with someone. If only Twilight could make a friend. Nevertheless, being the protective aunt that she was, Celestia may have also used her position as monarch to look at Apple Jewel’s mail. Just a peek, a very tiny peek. The little lady often had nice things to say about Blueblood, referring to him as Larry, likely as a reference to Vladimir. Unfortunately, those letters also talked about her feeling homesick, even worse now she’d got her cutie mark. The news that she was leaving the school for good had come as no surprise to either Celestia or Blueblood, but the Prince still took it hard. “Try and be kind to him, Twilight, for me. Blueblood’s about to need some cheering up.” Twilight felt sick trying to just visualize treating Blueblood with anything more than disdain, yet this was Celestia asking her, so how could she refuse? “Alright, for you.” Business soon took Celestia away from Canterlot anew; she stepped off the train, drawing several gazes. Three days had passed since her talk with Polymath, which ended in his arrest. She’d hardly believed Air Break when he’d given her the Dean’s name, but once she had Polymath’s house searched and found his egg collection, Air Break’s story became a bit more believable. Twilight’s brilliance had unwittingly assisted in implicating him in lesser crimes, which gave credence to the much larger accusation. When she interrogated Polymath, he’d quickly gone silent and called for his lawyer, only providing her one name. Short Fuse. According to recent census data, Short Fuse was a blacksmith in Trottingham. No priors, no records, no history of wrongdoing. The stallion was clean as the snow. Could he truly be a Dragon Slayer? Considering Polymath, someone whom she trusted to vet foals for her school, turned out to have paid ponies to steal a dragon egg, it was likely. She pondered how this stallion would react to seeing her.  Celestia entered the small town, followed by Blade Sentry and Spark Burst, as they looked friendlier than most Guards. If anything, ponies would think she needed a blacksmith to forge something for her, and that her Guards were just for company. No need to draw more attention to herself. She asked around town for Short Fuse, giving the ponies a friendly smile, and was quickly pointed in the right direction. The stallion was found near a far-off cottage overlooking a large field, working at a well-built home forge. He looked like a normal hardworking stallion in a blacksmith’s mask and apron, with rippling muscle beneath his brick-red coat, and jet-black mane shaved to a crew cut. But he was missing his lower-right hindleg, replaced by an ingenious retractable wood-and-iron prosthetic. She could only guess how he had lost it; at this very moment, he worked at a grinder, filing a blade down to obtain a sharp edge. Celestia cleared her throat, garnering his attention. He hit a switch, making sure the belt stopped before he turned to face her. He removed his mask to get a better look, revealing a stubbled, square-jawed face. Something about his bearing had made Celestia think he should be older, yet oddly, the stallion’s couldn’t be that old, judging by the face. Twenty-five, perhaps. That is, until one saw the eyes. Curious to her was his reaction, or lack thereof in those eyes. Once the initial surprise had faded, he looked at her as if she were the delivery mare bringing him his daily mail. Maybe a long-expected letter. “Are you Short Fuse?” “Aye. Polymath, he got caught, didnae he?” the stallion said with a sigh. “That he did,” Celestia said gravely. “He implicated you in a very serious crime.” “I ken, Yer Highness.” He put down his tools, to slowly and methodically make his way towards her. “Look, my missus is out visiting her folks, we can talk inside the house.” “Understood. You both, wait outside,” Celestia told her Guards. They obeyed, and began to examine a few of the blacksmith’s finished works. The house wasn’t small, nor big, it was just right. Nothing overly sinister about it was to be seen inside. While there was a sword display, Celestia’s experience told her at a glance these were blunt prop swords, representing iconic weapons from various forms of pop-culture. Presumably, the blacksmith had a side business in products aimed at devoted tabletop players such types, much like a certain young stallion, a promising recruit whom Celestia knew had caught Cadance’s eye. Celestia briefly smiled at the image, reality soon calling her back to attention. On that note, she saw evidence of the blacksmith’s own family life, further upon the same wall as the sword display. Pictures of him and his wife, and a now three-month-old foal, if the picture frame was to be believed. Short Fuse, who’d excused himself for the kitchen, walked back into his living room, carrying a kettle. “Have a seat, Yer Highness,” said the blacksmith, indicating an empty couch. “So, what’s happened?” “He hired a group to steal an egg, they got caught, and one of them denounced him,” Celestia said,  cautiously seating herself. “Polymath then implicated you specifically for the first attempt. I’m willing to let you get ahead of this, but I need names. Partners, contacts, anything.” “I donae mind testifyin’ against him,” Short Fuse grunted, pouring her a cup of tea. “I can get ya me partners’ names, ma’am. But they’re dead.” That was an interesting fact. It would also explain why he was the one implicated, and not a team. “Care to repeat that?” said Celestia, accepting the cup. “They’re all dead. It’s a long story.” He sighed, before taking a seat in an armchair. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and listed off name, after name, after name. If Celestia had to guess, comparing their names to missing cases would likely solve a few mysteries.  “That was it fer our main group.” Short Fuse said once he’d finished. “We also had two consultants, what helped us durin’ our trip there. On the way, they taught us how to restrain larger creatures, or hide from ‘em if they was five storeys tall. Their names were Snap Shutter and Mane Allgood.” He released another pained sigh. “They shouldnae have been there. But they needed money fer an expedition down South. They couldnae get a loan, had a little girl at home that needed carin’ fer. When they were approached by me boss, an’ heard ‘bout the job, they saw their chance an’ took it. Fer them, twas’ one bitty dirty job. Then they’d be all set ta care fer their daughter.” “I see,” said Celestia, who sipped her tea, deep in thought. “And they helped you track a dragon?” “Honestly? We got lucky. Found one dragon with an egg squattin’ in a cave three miles within the Equestrian border. Within. Thing is, this was a wee dragon. Maybe six, seven feet tall. Stood on her hindlegs, had on these heavy robes, carried a greatsword wit’ a long handle. She had her egg in an ornate case, an’ was whisperin’ ta it in a baby-voice as she warmed herself in front of the fire. That’s when some of us had a sudden notion, maybe we was doin’ somethin’ wrong. But after voicin’ those reservations, we decided morals could go by the wayside… See, most of us wanted the dosh fer booze, happy pills n’ floozies.” There was a lethal venom in his voice, laced with a hint of regret. “We sent in a pegasus, gave him a spear, an’ he flew forward fast. Dragon had just enough time to turn ‘round before he ran her through. We thunk that was it, but she refused ta die. She was mad an’ strong, but we had numbers, an’ she’d just been stabbed. One would feign ta attack, someone else would come from behind ta slash her. After the fourth, maybe fifth cut, she fell to her knees, began cryin’, yellin’ at us ta leave them alone.” Short Fuse paused. He leaned over the arm of his chair, opened a cabinet, brought out a nearly untouched bottle of scotch and took a large gulp, slamming the bottle on the table nearby. “She was just a mother protectin’ her child. That was it.” “What were you doing during all of this?” “Nuthin’. I froze. I’d just turned eighteen. Told myself this was gon’ be like a fantasy novel. Slay a drake, grab some damn quest item. I didnae–” He chuckled dryly. “Didnae expect reality. Allgood was the same. She just shut down. Snap slashed her back once, heard her whimperin’ an’ weepin’, an’ stopped. Think he was disgusted with hisself.” Again, regret. They all must have realized too late that this wasn’t a mere animal, but a mother. Someone who would do anything to keep her child safe, like they would. “So,” Celestia said, “if you were able to bring her to her knees, how did she kill everyone?” “She didnae,” said Short Fuse. “We was about–”  “Why ‘we’? I thought you didn’t attack her.” “Cos’ I was there!” he snapped. His voice was filled with loathing and his face twisted into something monstrous. But none of it was aimed at her. “I didnae help her, I didnae try ta stop ‘em. Just stood there. Didnae matter. A-fore we could kill her, the other dragons came.”  Other dragons? Celestia leaned forward. How could word of this not have reached Torch? Four witnesses, a victim, all the makings of an international incident. Yet this was the first she’d heard of it. “They were ‘bout as tall as the mother. Three of ‘em, one emerald-green, one purple, an’ the last one–” He shuddered at the memory. “Just lookin’ at him felt wrong. He wore a cloak. Got a glimpse of him under his hood in the firelight. Dark scales, yellow eyes… His face, it looked cracked, like the bloke was made of glass. He took one look at what was happenin’, an’ laughed. He snapped his claws an’ his lackeys started droppin’ us a-fore we could react. Then it was just me an’ Allgood. They approached her first. She begged to be spared, if nae for her sake, then her little girl’s.” Celestia felt pity for the unknown mare. Knowing that her child would be left alone in the world must have been a pain worse than losing her husband. She was probably like Short Fuse. Frozen in her spot, wishing she could go back in time and say no when asked. She likely saw the mother with her egg, and saw herself and her daughter. “Weird part? I could see it on the mother’s face. Understandin’. The way she cradled that egg as she looked at Allgood. I think she wanted ta let her go… but the others didnae.” He stared off into space, his eyes wide as if they were seeing the scene playout in real time. Several loud gulps followed. “I see. So, how did you survive?” Celestia asked. “The mother. After what they did ta Allgood, she saw me, a stupid bairn what just turned eighteen, an’ decided to cut me loose. She couldnae be too kind about it, though. Kicked the stuffin’ outta me, slashed me leg down to the tendons, an’ told me ta start crawlin’.” Celestia tensed. What he did was wrong, to be sure, but this retribution struck her as cruel. “I wouldn’t call that merciful.” “Nae at that moment, it wasnae. Felt like I was gon’ die. I was screamin’, beggin’, cursin’…  An’ she just went through with it. Lookin’ back, twas’ a slap on the flank, next ta what the others did ta Allgood. I was in a gang that’d tried ta take her baby, but she let me go. It was enough fer the others. Except fer that other guy… He just stared at her like she’d sinned. I could feel myself gon’ in shock, but it suddenly faded. I felt a surge of strength. She barked at me ta crawl an’ I heeded her. I didnae stop… didnae stop.” Short Fuse looked over his prosthetic leg. “Yaks found me, brought me to a village to recover. Too late fer me leg. Still, after that, I managed to put me life back together. Polymath paid me hush money, and I never looked back… So, what happens now?” “Depends, how long ago was this?” “‘Bout four years ago. We set out in late June, I think.” Late June. Right around the time of Twilight’s test. If they had come back around early July, had the egg been on display for a week or two, then it would have been present the same day the Rainboom happened. Had the attack succeeded, it all would have been for not. Twilight would have hatched the egg, and Polymath would have been caught. Except the attack had failed, which left her only one question to ask. What should she do? She looked at the blacksmith, his body tense, eyes flicking towards the picture of his newborn. Was this not why she granted mercy to so many scoundrels, so they could have a chance to build back their lives? Short Fuse showed regret for his actions, tried to move on. He tried to be better, found an honest job. Then there was the fact no-one had come forward. The victim herself had cut him loose, and never reported the attack to Torch. It was as if she too wanted to move on from the attack, let Short Fuse be. “The mother was willing to give you mercy. For her sake, I’ll do the same.” Celestia stood. “For now, until Polymath is extradited, you died in a very unfortunate forge accident.” Celestia watched as his body relaxed. “Thank ya, Princess.” Celestia bowed her head, and left. She prayed she was doing the right thing leaving him alone. She would compare the names he’d given her to missing ponies. If they matched up, then it would give credence to his story.  She reviewed the tale in her head, trying to see if there was anything wrong with it on its own, but nothing seemed to pop out at her, at least in regards to the ponies.  The part that stuck out was regarding the dragons. Why had no-one come forward about the attack? Even if the mother wanted to spare Short Fuse, she could have easily told Torch that all the attackers had been slain. There was no reason to stay quiet about it. Even if this happened within Equestria’s borders, Celestia would have done everything in her power to make it right. That was something else that bothered her. Inside the Equestrian border. There were certainly dragons that lived in Equestria. They lived in remote caves or mountain tops, but a normal fact was that they were towering titans, much bigger than six or seven feet. Why would a teenager be found inside her nation’s border with an egg? How did the other three know where to find her? Perhaps one of them was the father? To dragons, Equestria was a land filled with monsters, so why risk coming in? Perhaps these were questions for another time, and for someone else. What Torch didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt him. All that mattered for the moment was keeping her end of the bargain. She let out a held breath, and tried not to think about what she was about to do. Celestia had left for the day yet again, and Twilight was growing increasingly anxious. At least this time, Celestia told her she was only going to Trottingham, meaning she ought to return that very evening, but it seemed that every time Celestia was away on princessy business nowadays, she came back miserable. To prepare for Celestia’s return, Twilight spent the whole afternoon in the Palace courtyard with Flash, Timber and all of her school friends, under the careful supervision of Cadance. It was the biggest waste of time in her life so far, but the Princess was sure to be happy because of it. Twilight had written forms confirming that, yes, she did play with them. Tag. Knights & Wizards – where she was unfortunately the princess, despite the fact that she’d have made a much better evil wizard than Timber. Hide & Seek. Hyperspace Hyperwars. Redlight-Greenlight. One by one, her friends tired of the games and left. Eventually, it was only Cadance and Twilight. The sun came to set over Canterlot and still Twilight refused to go. Cadance humored her, continuing a few of the games with Twilight. Then even Cadance grew tired and they both sat themselves on a bench, waiting. When a Guard approached Cadance to tell them Celestia was back, Twilight was quick to go and see her, not running, yet keeping a fast pace in her stride. She even told the Guards her name and who she was there to see. And Twilight opened the door to her teacher’s room, to find her sitting before a roaring fire.  “Princess?” Twilight said, slowly trotting into the room. Celestia didn’t turn towards her, she just sat staring into the fireplace, the light dancing all across her face and the room. Twilight trotted further, taking a seat next to her mentor, before laying her head against her withers. “I played with a few foals. The games were, uh, fun.” This earned her a chuckle. Celestia smiled as she finally turned her head and looked down at the filly. “You are an awful liar, Twilight Sparkle. How terrible was it?” “It was the worst, Princess! Flash and Timber just kept fighting and laughing and ‘powering up’ whatever that meant. They just squatted and yelled a lot before punching each other! No one could ever find my hiding place–” “Did you leave the area they were playing in and go to the library?” Twilight stayed silent for a few moments. “Maybe. Worse, I played my brother’s game and now I’m agreeing with Blueblood of all ponies! It’s nice that he has fun, but they’re toys! He and his friends are playing with toys! He should just admit he’s playing with toys!” This got Celestia to smirk. “Well, I’m glad you made an effort.” “How was your princess business?” “Awful,” Celestia said. “I had to make difficult choices, and couldn’t get what I wanted.” “But, you’re the Princess, you should be able to get whatever you want!” “Oh, Twilight, that’s not how things work. Even Princesses need to make compromises and sacrifices. Sometimes, there’s no getting what we want, and that’s hard.” Celestia tried to think positive. Justice was served, wasn’t it? Except for Air Break, now free as a bird. A dragon had been killed, ponies were almost certainly dead, and all she could do was sit in her bedroom watching the dancing flames in her fireplace. Twilight saw the sorrow on her teacher’s face and gave her a hug, burying her face in her soft coat. Celestia sighed, knowing that she didn’t deserve this filly. Her wing wrapped around the little unicorn, bringing her in close, and held her long into the night.