//------------------------------//
// Chapter 61 
// Story: Rekindled Embers 
// by applezombi 
//------------------------------//


Chapter 61


Journal of Knight Captain Silverfeather, formerly Knights Adamant.  Confiscated after her arrest for cowardice and dereliction of duty.

I don’t usually record my dreams.  What I share with Her is usually private, not something that needs to be recorded.

But I want to remember what I saw.  I want to sear it into my brain.  So I don’t make any mistakes.  So I’m writing it down.  Because dream memory is funny, even dreams of the Lunar Diarch.

Luna.  Her name is Luna.  I can write it, at least.  It may be blasphemy to speak, but it cannot be wrong to write.  Besides, she asked that I call her by her name, rather than a title.

I’ve dreamt of her before.  So has Momma.  She named me for the moon, after all, and told me all about her dreams about soaring through star-speckled skies, warmed by the silvery glow of the moon above. 

I’ve learned to treasure every single one of those dreams, as well.

This last one was different.  I was flying over the village, with the fort right behind me.  There’s a blizzard coming, a maelstrom of ice and wind.  It’s small, like a tornado, but it’s tearing up everything it’s flying over.  The farms, the roads, even the fire breaks all being torn up like a foal rampaging through a sandbox.  It’s whipping back and forth, as if the storm can’t choose between the fort or the village.

Stone and wood are flying everywhere, and I’m just watching, looking down at all this with a dreamy sort of detachment. The storm rips away at the landscape, and I’m just staring.  The moon is behind me, and I glance over my shoulder.  It’s getting closer and closer.

“Your orders are to defend the fort.”

It’s Luna’s voice.  But I don’t know I’m dreaming yet, so my head is still in that weird space where dream logic makes sense.

“I know.  But nopony is in the fort.  They’re all in the village.”

“So if you defend the fort, the village will be destroyed.  All those ponies.  You have to choose.”

“I choose the village.”  I spread my wings.

“There will be consequences for disobeying.”

“I don’t care.  I’m ready to die, if I need to.”

“Oh, my little pony.  You may have to.”

I swooped down, placing myself between the storm and the village.  I could hear the terrified cries of the innocents behind me.  In front of me, I could hear the howling of the storm.  I spread my wings, as if to somehow block the storm myself.

Strangely enough, I felt no malice from the storm.  Instead, there was a sort of recognition.  Like the storm knew me, personally.  And it slowed.  Stopped.

And then, in the unfailingly bizarre logic of dreams, it was over, and I knew I had won.  Luna stood beside me, holding me close with one wing.

“It’s coming for you, Silverfeather.  The choice.  You have to choose.  It’s going to be hard.  I’m proud of you.  I’ve been proud of you for a hundred lifetimes.”

She was warm, and I leaned into the embrace.  I’ve never felt so safe, so loved, or so valued as I do when Luna was holding me.

“Your soul is an old one, Silverfeather.  Your heart is the heart of a hero.”

When I woke up, the details were already fading.  I’m doing my best to remember them as I write them all down.  I know this can’t have been just a normal dream.  Luna was warning me of something.  Some impossible choice.  And I’m going to have to make the right choice, or lots of innocent ponies are going to suffer for it.

1113 AF, New Canterlot City

Steadfast remembered the first time he’d ever seen Stalemate play chess.  He’d been a squire, just barely out of the Ivy Seminary, and on a whim had taken a detour through Portia Rock Park, past the public chess tables.  There, he’d witnessed the strangest sight.

It was an old mare, mostly bones, darting from table to table in the park.  Each table had the same setup: a chess game in progress, with a frustrated looking opponent.  The mare herself was dirty, with an unkempt mane and ragged clothing.  Every time she switched tables, she pushed a small cart along with her, which Steadfast assumed contained her worldly possessions.  Every third table she would take a long pull from a battered tin flask that she kept in a holster at her side.

It was enough to make Steadfast pause and watch for a few minutes.

The wobbly old mare had won every single match within two minutes of his arrival.  Others took the losers’ places, and she won those matches as well.  Steadfast sat at an open table and set up the pieces.

He lost in eleven moves.  The mare never even said a word to him.

The next time he saw Stalemate, he was a Knight, and he offered her a salaried position at the Star Shine building.  Her task?  Teach him to play chess like she did.  He’d paid her out of his own salary, and considered her lessons more valuable than anything he’d learned from the Seminary, or from his mentor Knight, for that matter.

He still kept a picture of the cranky old mare in his desk drawer.  He wondered how Stalemate would handle the current games he was juggling.

Game number one was the one he’d been playing against Grand Master Heartwing for decades now.  Heartwing played a very solid game, careful and defensive.  Steadfast, for his part, saw no need to be aggressive; the Discordant were too small to cause any real turmoil, and their presence was useful as a reminder for the common ponies.  No, there’d been no need to change the status quo there for a while.  But Heartwing had put him in a zugzwang without him realizing it, and he’d lost a very important piece as a result: a pawn he’d been dearly hoping he could promote.  Now he had no idea what the Discordant’s plans were.  He was out of position and off-balance.

Game number two was against a brand new player: the unrated Princess Flurry Heart.  He’d miscalculated on a very risky aggressive opening and had been destroyed, losing a confessor and several pawns in the process.  Now she was striking at the edges of his defenses, looking for the right opening to dive in and secure her advantage.

Game number three was the one Steadfast played with the other Grand Masters.  Most of them didn’t even know they were playing, or so he’d thought.  But now Fairy Light had him on edge.  She was up to something, and he had no idea what.  She was shifting her own pieces around, jockeying for an advantage he couldn’t foresee.  There was information he didn’t have, and it bothered him.

Game four was with the Machine.  He was always winning that game.  The moment he wasn’t, he’d be dead, and he knew it.

And of course, there were a half-dozen other little games he was playing, too.  There were the griffons, stirring from their roosts for who knows what reason.  The dragons, burning border forts.  And the zebras were hard at work building towards… something.  Steadfast would have to pay closer attention to what they were up to, before it came back to bite him.

Or were they all a part of somepony else’s game?  Maybe Heartwing’s, or Flurry Heart’s?

He hated not knowing.

you cannot see you cannot hear we blind you we deafen you

too warm it's too warm let us free

feed the fool to us he’s no use to you worthless idiot

kill the old bitch she knows creeping and sneaking and seeing

let us sink our teeth in, fangs to bite and hooves to trample

Steadfast could hear the voices wherever he was, now.  Even in his private rooms, the voices from the Machine crept in.  These days he barely noticed them.

Maybe his match against the creatures in the Machine wasn’t really going as well as he thought.  He’d have to go see Joy today.

But there was business first.  Steadfast needed to review the reports on his desk one last time, before he interrogated the prisoner.

Joy wouldn’t like that.

Steadfast shuffled in his bed, letting himself take a moment to mourn its emptiness.  Mercy wouldn’t return his messages.

smells like betrayal like treason like spying like

He buried the loneliness and the voices deep, pulling himself out of bed as he trotted over to his desk.  The reports were still there where he left them.  Each one was a move from one of his opponents, one he hadn’t foreseen, hadn’t expected, and now needed to plan for.

The first one was the worst.

Sir Steadfast-

My name is PFC Lookie Glass.  I have been stationed at Fort Twilight’s Spear, serving under Lady Polaris.  I am writing this message on the scrap of dragon fire scroll she entrusted to me, right before she ordered me to flee.

Twilight’s Spear has fallen to the zebras.  I know that sounds unlikely, but I saw most of the attack myself before Lady Polaris ordered me out.  The attackers were a zebra army, led by three figures in Knight armor.

They were not Knights Discordant.  Before the attack, the three Knights approached the gates of the fort.  Two of them were zebras themselves.  The third was a unicorn, I think, but unlike any unicorn I’d ever heard of.  His horn was split, and curved back towards his body.  And even at a distance, I could make out his fur, broken up in places by patches of reptilian scales.

The Knights wore charcoal colored armor, so dark it was nearly black.  On the flank of the armor was a gray spiral motif.  I had never seen or heard of anything like it.

One of the two zebra Knights, a mare, stepped forward and spoke.  She introduced herself as Lady Annika of the Knights of the Mother and demanded that we surrender the fort.  Obviously we refused.  The zebra Knights, along with their strange unicorn, simply turned and left.

That night, the bombardment began.  Guerilla fighters, under cover of darkness, darted up to the fort’s wall and crumbled one of the sections with explosive potions.  They retreated as soon as the ground stopped shaking, but the Knights were back, charging into the breach.  The mutant unicorn was in front.  Only this time, he was on fire.

I don’t know how else to write it, sir.  He was burning all over, but his body wasn’t consumed.  He was a force of nature; he tore through our soldiers like they weren’t even there.

His companions were just as dangerous as any other heretic Knights, though they largely threw more strange potions rather than using rune gauntlets.

I saw Sir Cracker Barrel go down under the knives of the zebra Knights.  Sir Axel Grease was lost to the flaming Knight.  I never saw Lady Padlock fall, but I saw a zebra guerilla wielding her favorite spear in the melee later.  She was never without it.

I am one of the few pegasi stationed here, so when it became clear that the fort’s Knights were outclassed, Lady Polaris shoved a dragon fire scroll in my hooves and ordered me to get free, saying that somepony had to survive to alert command to this strange new threat.  As we speak, I am on my way back to the capitol to deliver a full report; I have found passage on board a cargo freighter, and should arrive in about a week.

Saints keep us all safe against this new horror.

PFC Glass

Steadfast had already read the report ten times.  Lady Pencil Whip was already on her way to retrieve the PFC.  Of course Steadfast recognized a kirin from the written description.  But what could have possibly made the usually peaceful creature leave its reclusive homeland?  And join with the zebras, of all things?  Was this an outlier?  Or part of a larger pattern of involvement he’d have to be worried about in the future?

And who were these new Knights? Moreover, what did they want?  The PFC’s report had been agonizingly brief, and it would be several more days before Steadfast would be able to debrief the pegasus in-pony.

He hated not knowing.

There was at least one prisoner he could interrogate, though.  He glanced at the next report.

            	OFFICIAL ARREST REPORT FOR KNIGHT CAPTAIN SILVERFEATHER

He paused, dragging Silverfeather’s face out of the depth of his memories. He’d only met her once, when recruiting for the failed mission to Manehatten.  She was dedicated and loyal, and even Brightblade had no complaints about her performance.  She’d gone from there to a posting as commander of a border fort near the Dragonlands, overlooking a small farming village.

A village and fort that now, thanks to Silverfeather, had been razed to ash by a flight of dragons.

Steadfast didn’t need to read the details of the report, but he stuffed it into a saddlebag, tucked away next to his desk.  Visuals and props often helped in an interrogation.

The rest of the reports were just as dismal.  Outposts fallen on the northern border, with Knights reporting waves of yaks descending like an avalanche from the peaks.  The shield was gone.  Lady Turquoise injured and jailed after her failed assasination attempt, his other agents dead or in chains.  Other reports of black armored Knights seen with groups of zebra fighters.  Rail lines in the heartlands destroyed, the iron cut and mangled, with his Knights reporting traces of unicorn magic along the twisted metal.

All of his opponents striking at the same time.  All except Fairy Light, who was still biding her time.

He left his chambers and locked the door behind him, ignoring the damned whispers tickling the back of his mind, icicles that dug in like frigid teeth.

Steadfast didn’t usually put wards on his door.  Arrogance, he’d finally realized.  An act of pride, and his position was too precarious to allow for that sort of thing. He quickly cast the spells that would seal his private space from intrusion and hurried out of the building.

Outside, the streets were dusted with a coating of glimmering frost, at a time when the spring flowers should have been in full bloom.

our reach is long

let us free to rip and rend

find the elements, they are yours to lead

Steadfast had no time for their madness today.  He trotted down the frigid streets.  The few ponies hardy enough to brave the cold gave him a respectful bow or nod as he passed, but he barely noticed.  Normally, Brightblade would have been waiting to intercept him, to inject his presence into Steadfast’s morning.  But Brightblade had been looking weaker and weaker, recently.  More and more he stayed in the research lab with Joyful Noise.

At least her reports brought Steadfast some small hope.  When the time came, he trusted Joy to have a weapon ready.  Maybe the initial test had been a failure, but the results were more promising than they had seemed at first.

The Shield of the Heavens had always seemed to Steadfast to be a pretentious name for a building, but the Adamant sometimes had a flair for the dramatic. The building itself reminded him of a shield, solid and blocky, with stone walls and militant, practical architecture.  The front doors were solid, thick oak.  Usually they’d be open this time of year, but the Adamant’s Grand Master had ordered them closed to conserve heat.

Steadfast approached the two blue-armored Knights who stood at the door, trying not to let the cold touch them.

“Good morning, sir!” The Knight, a stallion probably on one of his very first postings, saluted brightly.  “High General North Wind said to expect you, sir.  Would you like me to show you to his office?”

“Thank you, but no.  I have little time.  Can you show me to the cells?  And send a message to inform the High General I’m here.”

“Yes sir!” the guard said eagerly.  He shared a look with his fellow Knight, who also saluted and trotted ahead of them.  “We’ll be using the side entrance, by the kitchens.  Sorry, but…”

“It’s fine.” Steadfast let a little bit of his impatience seep into his voice.  He didn’t care what door they went in, didn’t feel the need to indulge a neophyte Knight, who was impressed with his order’s headquarters and somewhat embarrassed to not be using the grand entrance.  He didn’t have time to care about the way the Knight stiffened slightly at his abruptness, nor the way his eyes shifted about and his breath quickened as he suddenly remembered who Steadfast was.  “Just show me to the cells.”

“Are you gonna…” the knight began, and then shut his mouth so hard his teeth clicked, focusing his eyes in front.  Steadfast had to hold back a huff of annoyance.

The side door did, in fact, lead to the kitchens.  The place was bustling with hired help, cleaning up after the barracks-style breakfast Steadfast knew they served every morning in the Shield.  Many of them stopped to acknowledge Steadfast.  Their eyes held the same awe and fear that typically seemed to come whenever a pony laid eyes on his purple armor. 

“Did you need anything, sir?  Since we’re here?”  The young Knight’s voice was a little stiff. 

“No.”  Steadfast felt the roil of hunger in the empty pit of his stomach.  He’d skipped breakfast.  “I’m not hungry.  Thank you, though.”

“Uh, y-yeah.”

The kitchen led to a mess hall with stragglers finishing breakfast, nearly all blue-robed or armored Knights, as well as soldiers from each branch of the military.  A few of the Knights met his eyes as he passed.  He recognized several of them, and a few even called out in greeting. 

There was Bronze Dancer, the ancient pegasus mare who refused to retire.  She’d been his ever since he’d prevented both of her foals from losing their Knighthood after an investigation.

Two tables over was Dagger Slice, a young earth pony Knight with a daredevil streak and a lust for danger.  He’d been on Steadfast’s side since he’d squired for Lady Umbrella, of Steadfast’s own order. 

On the far side of the mess was Chrome Shine, a stallion Steadfast’s own age.  They hadn’t been close at the Seminary, but Chrome had always been grateful for the way Steadfast had defended Chrome against those who bullied him for being a sponsorship.  That gratitude translated to loyalty.

All his ponies.  Them, and at least a dozen others in this building.  Including the Grand Master.  And none of it mattered if he lost control.

From the mess hall it was a series of ominous stairways descending into the Shield’s basement.  Finally, Steadfast’s escort guided him past a guarded, locked door, into a long, sterile hallway lined with solid metal doors and one-way mirrors.

“Probably not as big as yours, eh?” the escort said nervously.  It was a pale attempt at humor, but Steadfast laughed.  He was right, after all.

“Who usually ends up down here?”  Steadfast didn’t need to ask, but the young Knight was trying to reach out.  It was a rare Knight that didn’t seem intimidated by the color of his armor.  Maybe that was a quality worth cultivating.

“Honestly these cells don’t see much use.  Usually just high-level army deserters, waiting for a trial.  Sometimes Knights who drink a bit too much.  Or cowards.”  He glared at the closest cell and spat on the floor.  “Um.  Do you need anything, before you go in?”

“No, thank you.”  Steadfast’s answer was automatic, but then he hesitated.  “What’s your name, Knight?”

“Um, Pine Bough, sir.”

“Thank you, Pine Bough.  You’re welcome to go back to your post.  I’m sure the general can find me.”

“Yes, sir!”  The Adamant saluted and slipped out the hallway door, leaving Steadfast to stare through the enchanted one-way window.

Steadfast had seen the inside of many different interrogation rooms, and this one was nothing special.  A metal table, a pair of chairs, a single electric light above.  There were none of the tools or accessories he was used to seeing.  Not like he needed them anyways.

There was also a single occupant.  A short pegasus mare with white fur and an almost silvery blue tail.  Her feathers were tattered, and the bandage around her barrel was soiled and stained red.  All four of her hooves were wrapped in tight shackles, with a chain joining them together tightly enough that Steadfast was sure she’d been carried in, rather than moving on her own power.  A black band tightly circled her torso as well, pinning her wings to her side.

Her face was hidden behind a black bag.   

Steadfast watched her for a few moments.  She was still, mostly, but her hooves twitched, and her head drooped with weariness. 

It didn’t take long for the hallway door to open again, and the Grand Master slipped through.

High General North Wind, the Grand Master of the Adamant, was possibly the youngest Knight to ever hold his title.  He was certainly the youngest on the current Council of Five.  The bright energy in his eyes made him seem even younger, distracting from the barest hint of wrinkles beginning to form at the corners of his eyes.

“Steadfast!  Welcome to the Shield.  Sorry I couldn’t meet you out front.”  North’s fur, as usual, reminded Steadfast of the bright yellow of a highlighter marker.  Once again he wondered if North had chosen his order simply for how brashly his coloration clashed with his armor.  It certainly fit with the pegasus stallion’s bright, aggressively cheerful personality.  “I’ve been busy.”

“I’ve seen the reports,” Steadfast said, and North’s smile slipped into a grimace.

“I’ve already started to shift resources around.  Steadfast, it’s bad.  I’m facing pressure on every single battlefront.  The military is breathing down my mane, demanding a cohesive battle plan.  Meanwhile I can’t figure out how they all decided to coordinate their attacks at once.”  His dark eyes searched Steadfast, and Steadfast was reminded that even though North was blunt and direct, he was still smart enough to have earned his position.

“It’s the Empire.  They’re coordinating all this.”

North nodded, not a hint of surprise on his face. “I thought so.  Them or the zebras, whatever his name is.”

“Blue Jasper.”

“Yeah, him.  Is he behind these black armors, ya think?”  Steadfast huffed, and North laughed.  “What?  I’m not dumb. They’re popping up all over.  Don’t worry, I’ll forward my reports to your office, in case I’ve seen any you haven’t.”

“I have an eyewitness, too,” Steadfast admitted.  “I’ve got Knights on their way to pick him up and escort him back.  I’ll let you know, and you can send someone to observe the debriefing.”

“Thanks.”  North’s eyes drifted to the room, the window, and the bound pegasus inside.  “So what do you need from her?”

“Well…” Steadfast hesitated.  He wasn’t quite sure, yet.  Nor was he sure just how much he wanted North to know yet.

“You can take her back to your cells, if you need to,” North offered.

Steadfast shook his head.  “No, that won’t be necessary.  You can stay if you want.”

“Now you’ve got me curious,” North said.  His expression was nearly unreadable as he watched his disgraced Knight, though Steadfast could see the slight twist of distaste in his mouth.  “What does she have that you need, but that you’re not worried about me finding out about?”

“I’m mostly just after a firsthoof account of what happened.  Hoping to clarify a few things.”  Steadfast absolutely did not want North to stay.  “And depending on what she says, she might be walking out of here with me on her own four hooves.  If not…”  Steadfast grimaced.  “I’ll have to ask you to send somepony to clean up the mess.”

North shrugged.  “Do what you want.  She was headed for a firing squad anyways, before I got your note.”  He paused.  “Steadfast, if you want me here I’ll stay.  But if you want me to leave, just say so.  I owe you some leeway.”

North, as usual, was sharper than Steadfast gave him credit for.  He reached out and patted North on his armored shoulder.  “I’ll catch up with you in your office, then.  We need to discuss a coordinated response to these threats.  And I’ll get your opinion on what the Empress is up to.”

“You’ve got eyes up north, then?” North snorted.  “Of course you do.  Tell you what.  I’ll make copies of the reports I’ve got of the black armors and have them ready as soon as you’re done.”  His lips curled down.  “If you do decide to let her free, though, don’t bring her to my office.  I don’t want to look at her coward’s face again.”

He turned to leave, but Steadfast called after him.  “North?  Does she have a Bond-Knight, somewhere, that I need to worry about?”

North paused, turning over his shoulder so Steadfast could see him roll his eyes.  “No.  And of course you’d know all about how our secret rituals work.”  He huffed.  “Should I be looking for a leak?”

“Relax, North.  Whoever leaked that to the Mystics has been dead for at least a century.”

“Sure.  Like you’d tell me otherwise,” North said with a laugh, as he trotted down the hallway.  “Flag down one of my Knights when you’re done, if you need a clean-up.”  He hesitated, and his voice grew thick.  “And Steadfast?  She was a good one, once.  Make it quick, please?  She deserves that much.”

“Of course, North.”

He turned back to the window, watching the mare once again as North Wind left.  She hadn’t moved, and there was no indication that she had any idea she was being watched.  He paused, watching her as he thought, the seconds slipping away in silence.

Finally he reached out and pushed the door open.

The bound mare’s head perked up as he entered, but she made no sound.  Steadfast stepped over to the table and lifted his bags on top, dropping them with a sudden, loud bang.  She didn’t jump.

“Hello, Silverfeather.”  His voice was calm and even.  He’d always been able to keep his cool during an interrogation.  There was only one time in recent history he remembered losing it.  Emberglow.

“Do I know you?”  The mare’s voice was surprisingly even as well, though Steadfast heard a small quiver.

“We met, once.  Steadfast Word.”  He watched, sharply, as her body jerked, muscles tensing as her wings twitched in their bonds.

“Grand Master Steadfast,” she breathed, with still only a small tremble of fear in her voice.  He was impressed.  “I didn’t think I merited this much attention.  How can I help you, sir?”

“You sound very eager to cooperate, Silverfeather.”

“I know what I did, Sir Steadfast.  I’m not going to hide from it.”

The mare in front of him was a far cry from the one described in the charges being leveled against her.  Steadfast was intrigued.

consume her fully she is nothing

she will defy you break her neck

she knows she feels old soul OLD SOUL

Steadfast moved slowly as he undid the buckle on his saddlebags.  Wordlessly, he slid out her arrest report.

“Very well, Silverfeather.  Tell me about the attack.”

“You’re not going to ask what the dragon and I spoke about?” She sounded confused.

“Perhaps later.  The attack, first, please.”

“It’s exactly like the reports I’m sure you’ve already gotten, Sir Steadfast.  I have nothing to add.”

“My reports say you surrendered the fort under your charge to a flight of dragons.  They came from the east.  You were ordered to hold them at the border.  The dragons attacked the fort, but when it looked like the battle was going to spread to the nearby village, you called for a truce to negotiate.  You left the walls of your charge, by yourself, and spoke with a Class E dragon for over two hours.  When it was done, you informed the Knights under your command, and the soldiers, and the civilians you were defending, that you had surrendered the fort to the dragons and that they would now allow all of you to peacefully evacuate.  As soon as you were out of sight of the dragons, your own Knights determined you had surrendered too early, and decided to arrest you for cowardice and disobeying your orders.”

“Yes, that’s accurate.”  The mare was far too calm.

“When you spoke with the High General, you said nothing in your defense.”

“Not true, sir.”  Silverfeather trembled a bit, and Steadfast was shocked to realize it was with anger.  “I told him it was not for cowardice, but for the lives I would be saving.  I bought their lives, and the only price I had to pay was my life and my reputation.  I count it cheap.”

The conviction in her voice was a surprise.  Steadfast watched her carefully, before pulling a second item out of his bag, a small book.  It was time to take the mare off balance.

“Very well.  We can come back to that,” he said evenly.  “I want to ask you about this.  Your journal.”

She stiffened.  “Sir, I left that back in…” she took in a sharp breath, then another.  “How…”

“It doesn’t matter.  I read through some of the more interesting entries.  I’d mostly like to ask about your dreams.”

Silverfeather was breathing heavily.  “Sir, I…”

“Tell me about her, Silverfeather.  Tell me about the Goddess of the Moon.  Tell me, and I can promise that you will be treated fairly.”

So she spoke.  She spoke of years of dreams, of flying through the ephemera on the wings of sleep.  And she spoke of her last dream, the omen and prophecy the Diarch had blessed her with.

“She was speaking with me, sir.  I know it.  She wanted me to value their lives over my duty.”

“And how sure are you that these aren’t normal dreams, Silverfeather?  Figments of your imagination?”

This got quite the reaction; Silverfeather jerked hard, and her voice dripped with a snarl.  “Sir.  I know.  If you had heard what I heard and felt what I felt…” she trailed off, and her voice grew low.  Reverent.  “Holy Luna guided me to speak with that dragon and save those ponies.  Torture me, kill me, damn me for a hundred lifetimes, I don’t care.  I know what I saw and heard.”

Steadfast could ignore the blasphemy.  There was too much he needed to know.  “Very well, Silverfeather.  We can talk about something else if you’d prefer.”

She laughed.  “What I prefer matters?  Please, sir.  Don’t pretend.”

“As you wish.  Tell me, do you remember Emberglow?”

The mare was stunned to silence for a few moments, her bagged head cocking this way and that in an almost comical gesture of confusion.  “Emberglow?  She was on that mission you sent us on, sir.  I haven’t heard from her since then.”

Steadfast waited, listening to her words, her tone.  Maybe she was lying.  “I’d hope not.  She’s Discordant now.”

There was another long silence from the mare.  “Why are you telling me?”  Her surprise and confusion seemed genuine.

“Because when we’re done with this conversation, you’ll either be dead, or working with me to bring her back.”  Steadfast shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see.  “So I’m not too worried about telling you.”

“I already told you I’d do whatever you ask, sir.  Just say what you want.”

“Okay.  What do you know about the Elements of Harmony?”

The jumping between topics was having the effect he wanted.  Ponies knocked off balance were less likely to lie, and more likely to lie badly when they did.  He could hear the confusion in Silverfeather’s voice when she answered.

“Sir, I… um, the artifacts from the Book?  Given by the Diarchs, they allowed the Saints to bring the light of the Diarchs to all ponies.  They used them to banish the horrors of Tartarus, to…”

Steadfast was waving his hoof before he remembered Silverfeather was hooded.  “No.  Not the stories in the Book.  Anything else?  Any other stories, legends, rumors you may have heard.”

“N-nothing.  Sir, I don’t understand.  Why are you asking me about…”

“With a story like yours?  Visions and dreams from the Lunar Diarch herself?  A presence so strong you even make a dragon stop and take notice, long enough to convince her to let you and your ponies leave unharmed?” Steadfast let himself sound impressed.  “Your comrades may be calling you a coward, but these are the sorts of things you hear about in hero stories.”

“You don’t think I’m a coward?”

“No, Silverfeather, I do not,” Steadfast said.  It was true.  Whatever this mare was, she wasn’t a coward. 

“I… I want to help you, sir.  But I don’t really know what you’re asking.  Elements of Harmony?  I haven’t heard anything more than what I’ve read in the book.  And I barely knew Emberglow.  We had that one mission together.  I thought she was dedicated and loyal.  And she…” Silverfeather gulped.  “I thought she died, distracting the heretics so we could all reach the shield alive.  I had no idea she…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Steadfast’s heart sank.  He’d been hoping.  So many weeks since the Element of of Honesty revealed itself, and he’d been snapping up every false lead, every bread crumb, every heroic story.  He’s been so sure, as soon as he’d heard about the journal, and the visions.  “I think we need to talk about the dragon, now.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.  Steadfast wondered when he’d last had such a cooperative prisoner in interrogation.  “The attack happened just like in my report.  But what happened with the dragon…” she sighed.  “Sir, I don’t know if you can believe it.  I’m not even sure if I can put it into words.  But when the alarm went up, and I flew above the battlements to see the dragons approaching, I just… knew.  I knew this was what I’d dreamed about.  The maelstrom was coming, and I could do my duty, or I could save the ponies.”

“And of course, you…”

“Seventeen Knights.  One hundred and forty five marines, with thirty two auxiliary staff.  And in the village, over eight hundred ponies.  Including foals.”  Her voice was hitched with emotion, and her breath was shaky.  “I-I’d like to think that even if Luna hadn’t asked me, I still would have made the same choice.”

“I think you would have,” Steadfast said softly.  He again ignored the blasphemy.  “So what made the dragon stop?”

“I couldn’t tell you for sure, sir.”  For once, there was hesitation in her voice.  “The battle was already joined, you see.  My Knights were firing the fort’s artillery into the sky, casting shield spells, all the sorts of things you’re supposed to do when a flight of dragons raid. But this wasn’t a normal flight.  It was huge.  And there were class D’s.

“I… I knew what Luna meant for me to do.  I just didn’t know how.  We were safe enough at the time, in the fort.  We were shielded, and we had batteries, even though they wouldn’t last forever.  And then I started to see some of the dragons start to move towards the fields between the fort and the village.  Mostly wheat and barley.  I could see, over the walls, the flames starting to devour some poor farmer’s crops.  And then I see the farmer, silhouetted against the flames, rushing towards them with a bucket of water.”

“Show courage even in humility, and cheer in despair, for the goddesses are ever watching,” Steadfast quoted, and Silverwing nodded.

“That’s when the class E showed up.  I was sure it was over.  Seventeen Knights, against three dozen dragons, one of them E?  But she swooped down and started berating the very dragons that had just set the fires.  I could hear her.  She was shouting loud enough that everypony could.  ‘Military targets only’, she said.  And then the offending dragons apologized.  Have you ever known a dragon to apologize?  For anything?  Ever?”

Steadfast shook his head.  “It does seem odd.”

“That’s how I knew.  That’s how I could feel it.  This was the opportunity Luna had shown me.  I ordered my Knights to cease fire, but to maintain the shield.  And then I found a piece of white cloth to tie to my spear and I… flew outside the barrier and into the dragons.  Straight for the Class E.  I was sure I was going to die.

“But… the dragons paused their attack.  I flew up to the E, and she stared at me.  Like, those eyes…” Silverfeather’s entire body shook.  “She was staring through me.  And her size.  I don’t like admitting how afraid I was, sir.  But I was shaking.”

“Certainly much more afraid then than you are right now.”

“I faced my death that day, Sir Steadfast.  And somehow nothing else seems quite as intimidating as being scrutinized by the gaze of a dragon bigger than my family’s manor.  Sorry, sir.  Not even you.”

It didn’t offend him.  “Tell me about her.”

“Um, orange scales with a yellow underbelly.  Purple spikes.  She was…”

“Not how she looked, Silverfeather.”

“Oh.  We talked.  She landed on the dragon side of the border, and we talked.  She hated me at first, I think.  Her eyes kept going to my armor.  To Lady Rainbow’s cutie mark on my armor, I think.  But the more we talked, the more she relaxed.”

“What did you talk about?”

“She asked me why she should spare the fort, and I started telling her about the village.  About the ponies that lived there.  I told her about the Knights that served under me, about the marines and their families.  I was babbling, I’m sure, but she listened.  And I thought, every second she listens to me is another second that my ponies stayed alive.

“I remember her eyes as we spoke.  They started out hard.  Hateful.  Accusing.  As time went on, though, there was something else there.  She was so old.  Like she’d seen a thousand years.”

shut her up kill her now she knows

useless to you garbage toss it away

“Like she had an old soul?” Steadfast said.  He’d heard the phrase earlier, from her journal.

And from the voices.

“Like that!” Silverfeather’s voice brightened.  “She… she said the same thing about me.  So did Luna.  Sir, do you know what that means?”

“No,” Steadfast lied.  “I’m sorry.  Did she explain herself?  You talked for two hours.”

“It was mostly me.  I asked her what she meant.  And she said… she said that—” Silverfeather shook her head.  “Look, it makes no sense, but she said I reminded her of an old pony friend.  That my eyes were just like his.  Sandbar, was the name she said.”

Steadfast felt his heartbeat surge at the name, even as his stomach sank.  Silverfeather had been so promising.  Nearly any other name, and she would have been walking out of here, under his custody but not under bonds.  Now…

“You’re sure about that name?”

“I am.  I don’t know anything about him, but…”

“I do.”  Steadfast reached for his saddlebags again, sifting through the papers and reports inside to find a long, thin cord.  He pulled it out and began wrapping it around one hoof.  That damned name.

“You do?  Sir, I know I’m in no position to ask, but…”

“He was a hero.  Trained by the Saints themselves.  He was so charismatic, he made friends even with dragons and griffons.  Sandbar’s very existence was proof, for some misguided souls, that peace can exist between us and the other tainted races.”  He stood up, moving around the table, so that he was behind her.  “I’m sorry, Silverfeather.”

Her only reaction was her quickened breathing.  He watched her throat and her chest, moving in and out quickly.  “O-oh.  Can… can I pray?  Before?”

“Of course.  Go ahead.”

“L-lady Rainbow, I’m sorry I have failed in my duty.”  Steadfast stepped up to her chair, looping the cord around his other hoof.  “I made a choice, and I think it was the right one, but I don’t know if I can ever be sure.”  He reared up and slipped the cord around her neck.  “I understand I have to die now.  If I lived well, I thank you for your guidance.”  He steeled himself, setting his grip.  It had been a long time since he’d done this with his own hooves.  “If I didn’t, and I’m wrong, I beg your forgiveness and mercy.  Please receive me with open hooves, and guide me to my next life.  And please forgive this Mystic for what he feels like he has to do.  All Saints keep us.”

“All Saints keep us,” Steadfast repeated, and he pulled.


*   *   *   *   *


Steadfast’s heart rate was still up, and he was breathing hard as he slipped out the interrogation room door, pulling it closed behind him.  It truly had been a while since he’d made a kill with his own hooves, and the voices were howling.

Joy was going to hate this.  He’d tell her as soon as possible.  They’d promised, after all, to keep an eye out for each other.  She didn’t hear the voices as much as he did, but with her research lab so close to the Hall of the Machine, she was troubled by them often.  Enough, at least, to bring them up to Steadfast.

The pounding of hooves alerted him before the hallway door slammed open.  It was North Wind.

“Steadfast.  I need you.  Hurry, please.  You’re gonna wanna see this.”  He paused, glancing at the mirror and the slumped corpse in the room beyond.  “I’ll send somepony to take care of that as soon as I can.  But this is big.”

“How can I help?”

“C’mon.  Up to the roof.”

They didn’t walk, they galloped, with Steadfast closely behind the Adamant.  North Wind’s Knights were buzzing about the Shield with intensity.  Even as the two of them dashed towards an elevator that would take them to the roof, several Knights approached North Wind for orders.

He was mustering his forces, preparing for some kind of huge action.  Steadfast quickened his pace.

The quiet in the elevator was the eye of the hurricane, a deceptively calm moment.  North Wind was breathing hard too, his eyes lifted, as if he could see through the wood and brick to whatever awaited them on the roof of the Shield.  Steadfast was willing to be patient.

Steadfast found himself already anxious as the elevator doors opened to reveal a snow-dusted platform.  A group of ponies were already present, three Adamants with gauntlets surrounding a prone figure on a stretcher.  Steadfast noticed the runes of a first aid spell.  He wasn’t sure which one.

“You need to hear this news right from the pony’s mouth,” North Wind said.  “As soon as you know what you need, I’ll be in the Shield’s atrium.  We’re getting ready to board the train to Old Canterlot.”

“What?” Steadfast stared at him for a second, but North Wind simply motioned to the figure on the stretcher.  Steadfast turned and rushed over.

It was a squire, a young pegasus stallion.  His gray robes were bloodstained, and his breathing was hard and fast.

“Sir!” One of the Adamants saluted.  “This is Squire Hurricane Howl.  Squire, Grand Master Steadfast Word of the Mystics is here.  Tell him what you told the High General.”

“S-sir!” The squire tried to salute, but winced.  Steadfast realized his hoof was painted with a lattice of cuts.

“Stay still, squire.”

“Yes, sir!” the squire said.  “I-it’s Old Canterlot.  It’s fallen, sir.” 

Steadfast was sure he hadn’t heard right.  “Fallen?  Squire, what are you talking about?”

“Fallen, sir.  Ambushed.  A night attack by crystal ponies, unicorns, heretics in yellow armor.  A-and some creatures I’ve never seen before.  Dogs that walk on two legs.  Insects that turn into monsters.  A-a-and the one they’re calling ‘princess’…”

Steadfast jerked his gaze up towards the mountain above them.  On a clear day, you could just make out the ruins.  Now they were obscured behind a thick layer of snow clouds.

“It was over quick.  Really quick.  I was in the dorms, over in The Library.”  That was the squire’s dorm for those wanting to join Steadfast’s own order.  “We heard the sounds of fighting, but Sir Bulwark ordered us to stay inside our rooms.  So we did as we were ordered.  About an hour later, a unicorn in yellow armor blasts our door open and orders us out.  She said that Old Canterlot was under their control now, that we were prisoners and that we wouldn’t be harmed.”  He grunted in pain.  “I wasn’t sure if anypony had gotten the word out.  So a bunch of us squires arranged a distraction.  They attacked the guards to give me a chance to get free and w-warn you all.  That’s where the wounds come from.” 

The squire gave a coughing laugh.  “The bug monsters chased me, but they broke off about an hour before I got back to town.  Sorry, sir, I would have come to you first, but I squired for Lady Lily Petals here at the Shield, and by that point I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“He’d lost a lot of blood, sir,” one of the Adamants supplied.  “I’m not sure how he made it.  Or how he’s even awake to tell you all of this.”

“The blessings of Saint Rainbow and Saint Twilight, I’d guess,” Steadfast said.  “You’ve done a Knight’s work tonight, squire, and I’m damned proud you’re going to be one of mine.”

“Thank you, sir,” the squire breathed.  “If…”

A sound rent the sky, a chime of bells so loud that everypony on the roof cringed, ears pinned back.  Steadfast looked back at the mountain, to where the sound had come from.  Even hidden in the clouds, he always knew where it was.

The chime sounded again, though this time nopony cringed.  When it sounded a third time, the Adamants looked his way with concern.

“Sir, what…”

Steadfast held up a hoof.  “Shh.  It’s a volume spell.  Voice projection.  We’ll find out soon…”

“Ponies of New Canterlot City.  My name is Flurry Heart.”

The voice was female.  It managed to project both strength and kindness, with a good measure of confidence mixed in.

“I ask you to not be afraid, though I realize that may be difficult.  From your perspective, it looks like I have brought a foreign army to your doorstep.  I have attacked your defenders, and brought strange and alien creatures to your cities.  For this necessity, I apologize.

“When my aunt, Princess Twilight Sparkle, still lived, she ruled Equestria from this very city.  She did so with the help of five very special friends, the ones you call Saints.  For hundreds of years, you have tried to follow in their hoofsteps.  But you have been deceived.  The Book of the Saints is a book of lies, and Twilight Sparkle would be disgusted to know the fear, hate, and death that have been brought about in her name.

“You have also been told that the Saints died centuries ago.  This is mostly true, but for one exception.  One of your Saints was preserved for a thousand years for this day, to personally bring you all the truth, and expose the lies the Knights have been telling you for generations.”

Steadfast forced his face into stony calmness, though his heart was pounding.  He knew what was coming next.  He’d been expecting a move from Sir Heartwing for weeks now.  But right now?

“H-hello, ponies of New Canterlot City.  My name is Rarity.”

This voice was familiar.  Steadfast remembered the cloud-blackened night, lit only by the explosions of a sabotaged munitions store and the strikes of lightning.  He remembered a white-furred mare with a drenched mane, staring defiantly at him in the dark.  It was her.

“I know you will probably disbelieve what you are about to hear.  But everything Flurry Heart just told you is true.  I was sealed away by ancient magic, awakened by one of your very own Knights.

“You have, in each of your homes, a book, called the Book of the Saints.  I have read its pages, and frankly, it is a mess of inventions, half-truths, and outright deception.  It does not have my approval or my blessing.  Part of why I am here is to tell you this much.

“But mostly, I returned to address the crisis that is now descending upon New Canterlot City.  The weather.  Even your Knights admit it is not natural.  In that, they are correct.  This unnaturally cold weather stems from disharmony, ponies.  It comes from hate and fear.  It comes from the fear your Diarchy instills for unicorns.  For the other races.  For those who don’t believe as you do, for those who don’t love as you do.  And the solution is harmony.  Peace.  Acceptance.  Love.

“But to bring harmony in the Diarchy would require a paradigm shift.  And that might mean holding some of your leaders accountable for the lies they have told, the cruelties they have inflicted, and the war they have leveled against the peaceful nations of the world.  We are here for peace, yes, but we are also here for justice.”

The broadcast went silent for a moment.  Steadfast could hear the sound of his own heart hammering in his chest.  He let his mind go blank.  Listen first.  Plan later.

“To the civilians of New Canterlot: there will be violence in the days ahead.  It might be unavoidable.  We beg you not to get caught in it.  Evacuate the city if you can.  Stay in your homes if you cannot.  We are only here to deal with the tyrants and bigots who lead you, and we want there to be as little violence and harm inflicted as possible.

“I’m sorry we have to disrupt your lives.  I wish all of this weren’t necessary.  But if we don’t intervene, this winter will last forever.  And New Canterlot City will become a glacier.

“So please, for your safety, stay at home.  But if you want to do more, it’s easy.  Stand up to hate.  Embrace love and hope.  Open your minds to the idea of harmony between the pony tribes, because if we’re going to beat back this hateful winter, we’ll need all of us: earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns.

“Unicorns like myself.  Or your Saint Twilight.  For that is one of the biggest lies you have been told.  In order to control you, you were given a scapegoat to fear.  And to make that work, a part of me, and my dear friend, had to be erased from your history books.  I am Rarity, ponies of New Canterlot City.  The same Rarity who befriended Twilight Sparkle. The Rarity who shared tea with Princess Celestia, who helped counsel Princess Luna in the aftermath of her nightmare.  I am the Rarity who once lived where your city now stands, who sewed dresses for my friends.  And if I trotted into your city today, the Knights Mystic would cut off my horn and kill me.

“Unicorns are not your enemy, New Canterlot City.  Neither are griffons, or dragons, or zebras.  They never were.  And as soon as you let go of that fear, harmony can return to all of us.  Please.”

There was something final about the ending this time, though everypony on the roof continued to stare at the sky for several breaths.  Steadfast looked towards the roof access door; North Wind had come up while Rarity was speaking.  His jaw was slack, his eyes wide and filled with horror.  He blinked, and turned to look at Steadfast, before snapping his gaze to his Knights.

“What are you standing around for!” he snapped, his voice crisp with military discipline.  “Get the wounded inside, and call a Radiant to look at his injuries.  Then report to your companies.  We’ll have orders to set out for the mountain soon.”  The ponies scrambled to obey, taking up the handles of the stretcher as North turned to face Steadfast.

“We’ll need to call the Council of Five,” he said.  Steadfast nodded, his mind whirring.  “We can’t meet in the usual place, obviously.  Perhaps…”

The roof was lit by two flashes of green fire, and Steadfast jerked back in shock before he recognized the light.  Dragonfire scrolls, one each for him and North Wind.  He quickly caught the scroll before it could drop to the snow at his hooves, breaking the seal and ripping it open.

The note inside was terse and abrupt:

The Grand Masters of the Holy Orders of Knighthood are summoned to the Council of Five.  As is her right, Fairy Light summons you.  You are summoned with all urgency and haste.

That all was true to form, though Steadfast had only ever seen this happen once, and that was far before he himself was a Grand Master.  An emergency summons…

By protocol, a Grand Master could issue only one of these a year, and the others were obligated to attend.  It meant, however, that the summoning party controlled the topics of discussion, as well as the rules of debate.  He seethed as he read the small post-script.

As circumstances will not allow the usual place, I pray that you will not object to meeting in Diamond Home, in the first floor conference hall.

Of course nopony else would object.  The reason the Council of Five held its meetings in Old Canterlot was because the palace was neutral ground, supposedly.  Realistically Steadfast’s order held sway there.  But the Radiants had always held themselves apart from the politicking and bickering of the other four orders, so none of the other Grand Masters would see anything wrong with meeting in Fairy Light’s place of power.  Nopony else would see the trap. He glanced over at North Wind, who was nodding worriedly, his eyes fixed on the scroll.

“Makes sense.  We need to coordinate our response to this,” North said, looking at Steadfast.  Steadfast held back a sneer.  That was likely why Fairy had called this meeting, but the sinking sensation in his stomach said the mare had something nasty planned. Call it a hunch. “Walk down to Diamond Home with me?”

“I’ll meet you there,” Steadfast said, shaking his head.  “I have some more reports I want to look over.  Might be helpful to us.”  It was so effortless to lie.  North Wind nodded guilelessly.

“Go with the Saints, Steadfast,” North replied.  “But don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.”

He didn’t even need to go far.  Certainly not all the way back to the Starshine building.  As soon as he was out of sight of the Shield, Steadfast ducked into an alley between two office buildings and raised his gauntlet.  His spellcasting was agitated and shaky, but he managed to cast the communication spell on the first try.

“At least ten,” he whispered, knowing the pony on the other end was already listening.  “Diamond Home.  First floor.  Disguised as wounded or sick.  Ten minutes.”  Steadfast ended the spell.  Lady Backstairs would handle the details.  He lifted his gauntlet to cast a second spell, one that would encase his alleyway in a bubble of silence.  Nopony would bother him.

Now it was time to think.


*   *   *   *   *


Diamond Home’s greatest virtue was also its greatest vulnerability.  It was less of a barracks or a dorm, and more akin to a hospital.  While the Radiant didn’t have the space to convert their headquarters into a full medical facility, there was still a constant stream of patients going in and out, looking for relief from some ailment or other.  Some were even volunteering to participate in the Radiants’ research, as subjects for the Knights of Generosity’s studies into improving their specialty healing magic.

The building was the smallest among the headquarters of the five orders, but Steadfast had always liked the practicality of it.  The Knights Radiant used their Saints-given power to directly help those around them, in ways both tangible and immediate.  If it were up to him, all the Orders would function more closely to the Radiants.

Of course, this assumed whoever led the Radiants was willing to work with him.  Fairy Light was not.

The building, like the Shield, was austere and practical.  Unlike the Shield, though, the Radiants went out of their way making their headquarters welcoming and homey.  As he walked through the front doors, he was immediately struck by the contrast of colors; the walls were lined with hanging planters, splashes of vibrant green life against the whitewashed walls.  The vast entry hall, full of rows of chairs for supplicants waiting to be seen, was interspersed with large pots, each one filled with more greenery. 

Steadfast pointedly didn’t look at any of the ponies filling the room.  He knew Backstairs would already have Knights in place, disguised so well even he might not recognize them.  It was a phantom comfort.

Instead, he strode right up to the front desk, so much like the reception desk in a hospital.  Instead of nurses, there were four squires at the desk, managing patient intake and reception.

“Welcome to Diamond Home, Sir Steadfast,” one of the squires said confidently.  “You are the last to arrive.  The others are waiting for you in the conference room.” She pointed back down a long hallway to the east.  “I can show you if you like, sir.”

“No thank you.”

The door to the conference hall was guarded by two Radiants in armor.  Steadfast’s breath caught for just a second in his throat when he recognized the tall, graceful form of Mercy Song.  She stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes as he passed by her, pulling the door open and entering the hall.

A conference hall on the ground floor of Diamond Home somehow didn’t quite have the grandeur of the ancient council room built out of a thousand-year old palace.  Steadfast had wondered idly if Fairy would have tried to at least set the place up like that familiar room, and was strangely glad she had not.  In lieu of the typical round table was a simple conference table, a rectangle with rounded ends, made of heavy oak.

The other four Grand Masters were already there, sitting around the table. High General North Wind was deep in conversation with the elderly Lady Proud Stone, Supreme Judge of the Vigilant.  Sir Layer Cake, the relatively new bespectacled Confessor Preeminent, was going through a stack of papers on the table with an agitated sort of urgency.

And then there was Fairy Light, the First Lady of the Radiant.  Her eyes were closed in either meditation or prayer.  With the shape of the table, Steadfast was sure she would have chosen the head, but as soon as he opened the door, her eyes slid open, and she motioned to the seat with a smile.

“Good, we’re all here,” North Wind said.  “We can get started.  What’s the plan?”

“I…”

“The summoning was done by official form.  The meeting, though unorthodox in location, must follow official etiquette.”  Proud Stone’s scratchy voice, even and devoid of emotion, cut through the room.  North Wind rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like we don’t know why we’re here,” he scowled.  “Why waste time on procedure when we have an enemy at the gates?!”

“Because it is tradition,” Proud Stone replied.  Inwardly Steadfast agreed with North Wind.  But even though Proud would be on his side in any vote (and had been for years, even before he’d made his way to his current position) she would stick strictly to the procedures that bound them all.

“Thank you, Lady Stone,” Fairy Light said.  “I am sorry, Sir North.  I promise we will get to the relevant business of the Crystal Empire forces and our plans for them in due time.”

“That’s not why you called a meeting of the Five?”

“Sir North Wind!” Proud Stone snapped.  “Please restrain your impulses.  The proper course must be followed.”  She glanced at Fairy Light.  “Lady Fairy, the meeting is yours to open and direct.”

“Thank you.  Sir Layer, would you please open us with a prayer?”

The Jubilant cleared his throat and stood.  “Very well.  All Saints, we come to you in earnest need.  We, your highest servants, are beset by enemies, who have violated your most holy sanctuary and brought violence and death to your beloved chosen Knights.”

Steadfast had to still his hooves under the table; it would be improper if he began tapping them impatiently in the middle of a prayer given by a Knight overly fond of the sound of his own too-flowery speech.

“We, who are your illustrious Grand Masters, who have overcome numerous trials and struggles to attain our positions as your most earnest and august servants, need your aid and your wisdom in this time of violence and confusion.

“Saint Twilight, we beg that you bless us with your wisdom and knowledge.  Help us cast back the darkness of heresy with the light of your very own magic.

“Saint Applejack, guide us with your earnest need for truth.  Help us see the deceptions and plots that led these enemies to our shores, even to the very walls of our homes!”

Steadfast was finding it harder and harder not to sigh.  He did his best to try and focus on the sentiment, rather than the purple prose.

“Saint Fluttershy, shield us from your wayward and traitorous children.  Saint Rainbow Dash, bless our hooves and our hearts with courage and strength, and let us fly the banner of victory high above us.

“Saint Pinkamina, bind the morale and spirits of our soldiers with brightness and light.  Even in the darkest of nights, let their joy hold strong and shine forth like stars in the darkness.

“Saint Rarity, consecrate the hooves and the labors of your own children, to keep us all ready and able.  Especially guide the thoughts and wisdom of your own Fairy Light as she steers our discussions today.  All Saints keep us.”

“All Saints keep us,” the rest of them repeated.

“Thank you, Sir Layer Cake.”  Fairy Light stood as Layer took his seat again.  She had a stack of her own documents, sitting before her at the table.  “I know you are all eager to discuss what has happened on the mountainside.  I myself am sick with worry for the souls of my own ponies, captured or worse.  But what I have to say this morning may be even more important than any of that.”

“More important?  Lady Fairy, what…”

“North Wind, you will respect decorum,” Lady Proud Stone cut him off, while Fairy Light watched them both patiently.  As North Wind scowled, Proud Stone nodded to Fairy.

“Thank you, Lady Stone.  And I am sorry, Sir North.  I’ll ask your indulgence for a few minutes only.”  She took a deep breath, and Steadfast was just close enough to hear the nervous quiver.  “The message from the mountainside filled me with terror, and sadness as well.  But it also reminded me of a time when we here were not five, but six.

“It is appropriate, I think, to remind ourselves of the sequence of events that led us to this point.  We only risk repeating the past when we ignore it.

“We Knights are a family.  And three centuries ago, one of our brothers left, never to return.  And why did he leave?  Because we didn’t listen.

“Three hundred years ago, Grand Master Arctic Breeze of the Angelic went to his sister, Lady Sweet Breeze.  He told her a story so fanciful and dark that she couldn’t possibly believe him.  She refused to hear what he had to share with her.  She refused to let him speak, even.  Heartbroken and rejected, he left her office that night with no other options.  With our refusal to hear his words, we backed him into a corner.”

North Wind looked like he wanted to speak up, to chime in, but his eyes met Steadfast’s.  Steadfast shook his head imperceptibly.  Patience, he mouthed.  He’d give Fairy Light just enough time to condemn herself.

“Today we have a chance.  We have a chance to undo the mistake my predecessor made.  The heretics are here, at our doorstep.  They are ready to strike.  We have the skills, the courage, and the favor of the Saints to drive them off.  But I wonder if we don’t have another opportunity.  To heal the wound that we have done to ourselves.”

“You suggest… some kind of negotiation?” Layer Cake’s voice was thick with disgust and disbelief.  Proud Stone opened her mouth to condemn the interruption, but Fairy Light smiled at her and waved a hoof, placatingly.

“I think, at the very least, we should consider it.”  Fairy shook her head at the snorts of disbelief from both North Wind and Layer Cake.  Proud Stone, as usual, was stoically silent, but Steadfast could see a hint of disbelief in her eyes, as well.  “But I mention it only for some context.  Because what I say next may be better understood if we see our conflict with the Discordant as a wound that could be healed, if we have enough faith and determination.”

She took another calming breath.  “Six there were, now five remain.”  Steadfast recognized the words of the prophecy, the one spoken by the Radiant’s oracle.  “One rules from the shadows, while the others follow blindly.  Hope is lost, but what is lost—” she paused, her gaze meeting Steadfast. “—What is lost can be found.”

“What are you—” North began.

“For the long years of our Orders’ histories,” Fairy cut through his interruption,  “Each of us has bought into the lie that each Order is equal.  That we each have unique roles and unique insights, and therefore work together as one.  But we all know that isn’t true, don’t we?  Among us is a ‘first among equals’.  One of the five, ruling from the shadows while the rest of us follow with blindness.

“I’m not blind, ponies.  I saw the looks of revulsion and horror in your eyes when I suggested we negotiate with the heretics.  Nor am I blind to the danger I am now in, for even suggesting it.  As you all know, though we claim to be equals, all of us but one, if we step too far over the line into that danger, could find ourselves under the knives and the hot pokers of a Mystic interrogation room.  Because we are not equals.  And we never have been.  We have always chased our duties only at the behest of one of our number.”

“Is there a point to this?” North Wind demanded.  Steadfast kept the smile off his face.  He knew there was no need for him to speak, even though he wanted to cackle with glee as he watched Fairy Light overextend herself.  The others would do it for him.  He could practically see the pieces lining up, as she exposed her Solar Diarch while his Knight and Rook moved into position for the checkmate.  “All this talk of listening.  I think I’m done.”

“Very well, Sir North Wind.  I shall get to my point.  The first of three reasons why I called this meeting.” Fairy Light said.  With a hoof, she reached down and slipped a manilla folder out of the stack of her papers, sliding it to the middle of the table.  “I have received credible and conclusive evidence, from multiple sources, implicating Steadfast Word in the murders of Grand Master Morrel, Grand Master Candleflame, Grand Master Nickelplate, as well as a dozen others over the last ten years in his efforts to clear his path to the position he holds now.  Steadfast Word, I accuse you of oathbreaking, murder, treason, and heresy.  You have lost the light of the Saints from the moment you chose murder so you could satisfy your vain ambitions.”

The council room exploded with noise.  North Wind was shouting at Fairy Light, and Proud Stone was shouting back, demanding that he sit down and be silent.  Layer Cake was shouting at both of them.  Only Steadfast and Fairy Light were silent, meeting eyes across the table. 

He could see a wealth of information in her gaze.  She was nervous, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes twitched in time with her trembling ears.  Her lips were pursed, tight with anger that betrayed her calm exterior.  Behind her, her tail lashed slowly, almost like a cat’s, ready to pounce.  Anticipation.

But Fairy was watching him.  Looking for something.  Waiting.  He wanted to grab the file she’d slid onto the table.  Wanted to pull it open, to see what she had on him.  Fairy Light was no risk-taker, he knew.  She was calm and methodical.  She didn’t rock the boat.  What could she have possibly learned, possibly found, that let her feel confident enough to make this move?

Steadfast’s gaze flickered to the folder, and for a brief moment he thought he could see Fairy Light smirk with victory.  Suddenly she raised both her hooves, slamming them down on the table hard enough to hear the crack of wood.  The cacophony of the other Grand Masters receded for a moment as they all stared at her.

“We are about to go to war, ponies.  War with the Discordant, and with a new foe, the Crystal Empire.  But we don’t even yet know if we need to.  We haven’t even tried to speak with them.  We haven’t listened.  And whatever choice the Saints guide us to today, I refuse to be led by a stallion with so much death and evil to his name.  For centuries, Mystic leadership has led us to battle after battle, war after war.  Mystic leadership has led to Steadfast Word.

“So the first of three motions I will make tonight.  I move to suspend Steadfast Word’s position on this council and leadership of the Mystics until these charges can be addressed.”

“I will second,” Steadfast Word said.  Everypony else stared at him, gaping openmouthed.  “If Lady Fairy does not have confidence in my innocence, we will not be able to present a united front against these threats.”

“Th-the motion has been presented and seconded,” Proud Stone said, only a hint of her ever-present composure cracking.  “Is there any debate on the motion?”

“We don’t have time for debate!” North Wind cried.  “We’re in a crisis right now!  There’s no sense playing whatever game this is, when it’s only gonna weaken our response!”  He shuddered.  “Seriously, Fairy Light?  What in Tartarus are you thinking?  My vote’s no.”

“I also see no need for debate.” Layer Cake shook his head, glaring at Fairy Light darkly.  “Really, mare? Your timing is atrocious.  I vote no.”

“These charges will have to be answered.  Our vote now does not change that.”  Steadfast was sure he’d never seen Proud Stone so worried.  “But I agree with North Wind and Layer Cake.  The Vigilant will oversee this investigation after the matter of the Discordant has been dealt with.  I vote no as well.”

Three votes in his favor.  It meant he wouldn’t even have to vote for himself, something that wouldn’t have helped his case.  He allowed himself a small smile of victory as he looked to Fairy Light.

“It appears the motion does not pass, Lady,” he whispered, and she nodded stoically.

“I suspected that might be the case,” Fairy Light said.  “So let us move on.  Because I have more I need to tell you.”

“Can she…”

“Lady Fairy Light called the meeting.  She has the floor.”  Proud Stone’s voice was hard.  For now, it seemed to say.

“When Grand Master Arctic Breeze turned his back on all of us, I think perhaps he hoped his large, dramatic gesture would cause his brothers and sisters to stop, to reconsider their path, to maybe even change their minds about listening.  His hopes were flawed and wrongheaded.  The wound we have cannot be healed through violence.

“So today, I would like to announce a change in direction of my Knights, the Children of Saint Rarity.  We choose this day to retire our oaths of poverty and chastity.  We will replace them with a new oath: an oath of peace.

“Forever more, the Radiant will no longer take up arms except to defend our own lives, or the lives of our patients.  We will defend ourselves, and our healing will be free to all; faithful and heretic, pony and non-pony.”

This time there was no explosion of sound.  There was deathly silence.  He even saw North Wind reach for where his spear would have been stored, on the back of his armor, if he’d carried it to the meeting.  Layer Cake’s eyes were wide, and he was panting.  Even the normally ironclad Proud Stone looked nauseous.

“Unwilling to follow the Mystics lead, so you walk the path of Discord, then?” Steadfast breathed.

Fairy Light shook her head.  “No.  I won’t let heretics guide my hooves.  Nor will I allow murderers to do so.  The Radiant will carve our own path, now.  And maybe it will make us all rethink how we approach this war with our wayward brothers and sisters in the Discordant.”

“T-treason.  You’re talking treason, Fairy Light.  How can you even consider this?” North Wind was pale.

“Because the Saints never meant for the Diarchy to be consumed by eternal war.” Underneath her calm exterior, Steadfast could see the conviction.  And the fear.

“And you are so sure about the will of the Saints?” Steadfast said.  Now it was time for passion, for accusation and anger.  “Arrogance.  Hubris.  How dare you, Lady Fairy Light.  You risk us all, in some sort of scheme to extort peace out of us?  You would doom us to the blades of the Discordant.  And then what?  You join them?”

“No.  We join nopony.  Until the war between the Diarchy and the Discordant is over, the Radiant will be neutral.  We will join no side.  Our only role is to walk in Saint Rarity’s hoofsteps, healing the wounded.”  She paused, eyeing each of them.  “Regardless of which side they belong to.”

“I’m done listening to this,” Steadfast said.  He’d stayed silent during her accusation.  But he knew the others were on his side.  Fairy Light’s accusations may have been damning, but she’d squandered any advantage she could have earned from it with this ridiculous stunt.  “Your heresy has reared its ugly head, Fairy Light.  You will be taken into the custody of the Knights Mystic, and another will be chosen to lead your Knights during this crisis until…”

“Arrest me, and every single one of your knights will be denied the succor and healing of Saint Rarity and her children.”  There was fear in her eyes, Steadfast could see.  Terror and adrenaline in equal measure.  “Every single one of my Knights has been informed of my intent here today.  We are prepared if you choose to reject us, to split our family further.”  She pointed an accusing hoof at Steadfast.  “But if we are driven from you, it will be by your choice, not ours.  If you wish to have our healing, you will receive it on our terms.  Peacefully.  Any who make war within our halls will be cast out.”

“You’re not the only order that teaches healing runes, Lady Fairy,” North Wind spat.  “My medics can…”

“You make whatever choice you can live with, Sir North Wind,” Fairy Light cut him off.  “I will not constrain the path you walk.  I only ask the same privilege for me and mine.  In fact, I require it.”

“We have heard enough.  North Wind, will you help me take this heretic into custody?  We…”

“I’m not finished!” Fairy Light slammed her hooves against the floor.  “Lady Magenta Mirror, are you listening?”

Magenta Mirror?  She was a Jubilant.  And one of Steadfast’s ponies, in fact.  Why was she…

“I beg your forgiveness, Grand Masters,” Fairy said.  “You see, I wished to hope that you would all be rational about this.  That you wouldn’t jump to violence.  That you would listen.  But I’m not stupid enough to expect it.  So I broke protocol.”

The door opened, and a familiar magenta furred pony, with a blonde mane,  stepped into the conference room.  It was one of Steadfast’s ponies, Magenta Mirror.  One he’d thought was loyal.  She was dressed in armor, but it was armor Steadfast had never seen before.  It certainly wasn’t the pink armor she should have been wearing.  It was white like the Radiants armor, but instead of Saint Rarity’s cutie mark, it bore Saint Fluttershy’s. 

“It’s done, Lady Fairy. We’ve identified at least twelve disguised Knights Mystic in the waiting area, the first floor diagnostics room, and the surrounding hallways.  Anesthesia spells proved effective at subduing them.  My Knights are in position in case there are others we did not discover.”

“Who is this?” Proud Stone gasped.  “These proceedings are closed to all except Grand Masters!  You show the depths of your heresy, Fairy Light!”

“This is Magenta Mirror, formerly of the Jubilant.  Now, at my request, she has become Grand Master of the Knights Angelic.  I have reformed the order.”

“Oathbreaker,” Steadfast hissed, locking eyes with his former follower.  Magenta shook her head.

“No, Sir Steadfast,” Magenta said with narrowed eyes.  “Unlike you, I remained loyal to my oaths.  You are the one who has led the entire Knighthood into darkness.”  Her gaze moved from pony to pony at the table, staring into each of the hostile faces.  “Fairy Light is right.  What we needed was a shakeup.  Something to break us out of old and deceitful traditions.  The neutrality of the Radiant will restore the hope and peace we so desperately need.  And while they do so, the Angelic will spread their wings as the shield that will keep them safe.”

Fairy Light’s bold voice cut across the objections that followed. “My second and third motions, Grand Masters, are these.  I motion that the council accepts the neutrality of the Knights Radiant.  I further motion that we accept the return of the Knights Angelic, with Lady Magenta Mirror as their Grand Master.”

Knight takes pawn.  Knight threatens Solar Diarch. Check.

It didn’t matter what the Council of Five voted.  Not now.  They would reject her motions, of course.  With or without Steadfast’s influence.  They would have to.  But any chance to arrest Fairy Light, and prevent whatever it is she was attempting before it could get off the ground, was gone.

How did Fairy do it?  How could she have possibly subverted his own ponies without him even knowing?  It was brutally clear to Steadfast, now, how Fairy had managed to get evidence to accuse him of involvement in the deaths of the other Grand Masters.  Magenta Mirror hadn’t been involved in the murders themselves, but she’d been trusted enough to have access to the right files, the right records.  Enough that she could have pieced things together.

The others were arguing, but once again Steadfast found himself locking eyes with Fairy Light.

“How?” he whispered.  Somehow she heard over the cacophony.

“I had to think like you.”  He could only see her mouth moving, could barely hear her over North Wind’s shouts and Magenta Mirror’s rebuttals.  “I found ponies who would listen.  Orphans without a mother.”

The Seamstress’ Orphans.  A meaningless fraternity of pegasi who shared a common origin.  The sickening knot in the pit of his stomach, the increasingly familiar burn of failure, made his lips twist into a snarl.

“You made the Orphans into your pawns,” Steadfast breathed.  He’d been outmaneuvered, and he hadn’t even seen it coming. It was galling.

“Not pawns,” Fairy said, pride in her voice.  “Knights.”

“You made the Orphans into Knights? How could you possibly manage that?”  The supply of Knight potion was strictly limited, and controlled by artificers within his own Order.

“We have long known there was another way to empower the potion besides your wretched cannibalism, Sir Steadfast,” Fairy Light sneered at him with contempt.  “It took a long time, but we have managed.  And when we sent out the call, righteous pegasi answered.  More than you might think.  Enough to make you pause, at least.”

Steadfast closed his eyes, clenching the edge of the table with his hooves, hard enough that it hurt.

“Stop.”

The arguing washed over him like a wave.  Steadfast stood.

“Stop!”

Layer Cake had a hoof around North Wind, holding him back as he tried to struggle forward.  His eyes darted between Fairy Light and Magenta Mirror, murder written in his furious gaze.

“Stop!  All of you, stop!”  North Wind slumped, and the three loyal Grand Masters turned to stare at him.  “We have been outplayed.  For now.  There is nothing we can do.”

“Horseapples, Steadfast!  There’s four of us, and two of…”

“If you try to harm any Radiant, including Fairy Light, you will not leave this building,” Magenta said.  “My entire order may be small for now.  But every single one of my Knights is here in Diamond Home, their attention fixed on this very room, ready to stop you from doing anything you might regret later.  You are outnumbered ten to one, Sir North Wind.  Do you really want to risk a pointless, foolhardy attack right now?  Especially one which could lose your Order’s access to the Mothers’ healing magic?”

“We will need to reconvene to discuss this,” Steadfast said, eyeing North Wind.  “If we are not to have your aid against the heretics, we have plans to make.  Plans that neither of you are a part of, now.”

“If you wish, we are willing and able to facilitate peace talks between you and the Discordant.  We doubt they will accept our neutrality so easily, but we are willing to try.”  Fairy Light’s voice was agonizingly reasonable.  It made him boil.

“You know where you can put your peace talks, Fairy Light,” Steadfast couldn’t help a snarl.  “Will you even allow us to go?”

“Of course.  As you make plans, though, please consider carefully before you try something foolish, like besieging our building.  For one thing, every single member of the Knights Angelic is a pegasus.  For another, think about what it would mean to fight a war with us trapped on the inside, and the Empire and their allies on the outside.  You cannot afford to fight us and defend yourself against them simultaneously.  Peace might be your best option.”

“I’ll take that into advisement, Fairy Light,” Steadfast sneered.  “North Wind, Layer Cake, Proud Stone?  We reconvene at my office in one hour.”  The three nodded.  “Then by your leave, Lady Fairy Light?”  He tried not to sound bitter.

He failed.

“You will beg the Saints for forgiveness for this day, Fairy Light,” he hissed as he passed.  “And I have no words for traitors.”  Magenta was stoic and cold in her gaze.

“Steadfast.”  He turned, almost at the door.  Magenta was watching him, her eyes hard.  “Your ponies have simply been put to sleep.  I shall ensure they’re released as soon as we are sure that there are no ongoing ill effects.”

So hostages, of a sort.  He gave her a barely polite nod and slipped out the door.

The hallway no longer had two guards, but nearly a dozen pegasi in the same Knight armor that Magenta was wearing.  Each one was armed with a spear, a shorter version than most Knights usually carried, with a small shield buckled to the hoof that bore their rune gauntlet.

Each face he recognized was another kick in the gut.  Morningshine was an experienced inquisitor, just a few years older than he was.  They’d exchanged friendly greetings for years.  Feather Bolt was an experienced interrogator.  Drizzle Rain was an Adamant, a skilled rune caster who he’d personally tutored years ago at the Seminary.

How many moles had Fairy Light managed to plant within his own ranks?

 The two Radiant guards from the door were also waiting.  Mercy Song was there, and as she met his eyes there were tears in them.

string her up, choke her dead

lies lies it was all lies all of it lies

never loved you only used you

“You’d do well to remember the cost of treachery.”  The Knights said nothing, merely parting to let him out, but Mercy Song flinched.  He’d mostly been speaking just to her, anyways.


*   *   *   *   *


Steadfast had less than a half hour.  The others would be meeting him in his office soon.  They would need answers.  A plan.  He had none.  Maybe.

come to us we will guide your hoof

a noose a blade a cross a claw kill them all

it doesn’t matter let us loose we will solve it for you

their heads all of their heads on pikes

The voices from the Machine were coming hard and fast now. Steadfast’s trembling had nothing to do with the bitingly cold wind that flowed down off the mountain; in fact, he was sweating.

The Star Shine building was a hornet’s nest.  Everypony needed a second of his attention.  They needed orders, direction, reassurances.  They needed to see his strength and his confidence.  He didn’t let his doubts or his fury show as he gave off an array of orders:

Observers to keep Diamond Home under close surveillance.

Researchers to begin going through records, to identify and detain every member of the Seamstress’ Orphans among his own Knights.

Other Mystics to liaise with North Wind; in the coming fight he wanted at least one of his embedded with every frontline Adamant unit.

Last of all, he’d been patient for too long on the matter of his wayward student’s parents.  It was at Mercy’s request.  But Emberglow had ignored his messages and his requests.  It may be time for less carrot and more stick.  He gave an order for a black bag team.

it is only fair only just she defied you for too long

make her loved ones hurt

none of it matters you’ll fail anyways

kill them all the blood will freeze and

It was a struggle to get them all to leave him alone long enough to reach the elevator.  Because none of it mattered; the voice from the Machine had that part right.  It was irrational, but he’d been outplayed by both Fairy Light and Flurry Heart, and he knew it.

He needed a win.

When he finally did reach the elevator, the silence was oppressive.  This close to the Machine, the voices should have been growing stronger.  Now, they were silent, and the mechanical clatter of the elevator filled his ears.

The hallway at the bottom was empty, and Steadfast forwent decorum in his need for good news.  He galloped down the hallway, his hooves echoing on the stone, until he pulled up to a halt in front of Joyful Noise’s research lab.  He didn’t bother to knock, instead yanking it open.

Joy jerked up with surprise when he entered.  She’d been hunched over a pair of machines, each one spitting out a line of tape covered in ink squiggles. 

“S-sir!  I didn’t expect…” she took a calming breath. “I thought you’d have better things to do than come down and see me.”

“I killed today, Joy,” he said, with no preamble.  She sat up from her seat near the machines, and leaned forward, peering at his eyes.

“Circumstances?”

“An execution.  Adamant prisoner.  A possible Element, perhaps, but she said too much to a dragon.  Or heard too much.  It was a waste.”

“Did the voices tell you to do it?”

“No.  It wasn’t an impulse.”  After his failure with Emberglow at the griffon border, he’d needed someone he could trust, someone he could deconstruct his choices with, to make sure they were his choices, and not theirs.  “You?”

“They want me to kill Brightblade.  I may have done so already.”  She motioned to the tape still spitting out of both machines.  “He’s heartier than the usual subjects, but he’s still mortal.”

Steadfast looked up from Joy to the hospital bed they’d had moved down here a few days ago.  Brightblade looked pale and shriveled.  His eyes were closed, and his mane unkempt.  Shallow breaths managed to barely lift his chest.

“Heh,” he breathed, and Steadfast moved closer.  “I’m not dead yet, sir.  Despite Joy’s best efforts.”  A grim smile split his muzzle.  “You were right, to send me to her.  We think we’ve done it.  We’ve perfected it.”

“You’re… testing it on yourself?” There was a part of Steadfast, the part that still held affection for Brightblade, that wanted to recoil in horror.

at least he will be of some use

finish him off it would be a mercy let the blood spill on the floor

“Not testing, per se,” Joy said.  “Trying a new method of motic incubation.  And I think we’ve cracked it.”

“You mean…”

“It’s ready to deploy, sir,” Brightblade rasped.  His eyes opened.  They were bloodshot, but full of glee.  “Just get some coffee in me.  Maybe something stronger.  I look like horseapples, but I’m ready, sir.  Send me to kill the bitch.”

Steadfast smiled.  For the first time all day, he felt happy.

Lunar Diarch Takes Knight.  Confessor Takes Diarch.  Check.