//------------------------------//
// Chapter LXXIII – Through Thick and Thin Ice 
// Story: Journey with a Batpony 
// by Gulheru 
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Twilight’s initial plan for the night had already fallen apart. Thankfully, alongside the “not so good” reasons for the alterations, there were some good reasons, ones that actually made her glad for the change in plans.

Thanks to the night’s events and the discussion they had enabled, she felt that she had reached a new level of understanding and a budding familiarity with Rowan Berry. True, the mare remained cautious and antagonistic towards her, but now at least she seemed convinced that Twilight wasn’t following some clandestine agenda when interacting with her. That definitely opened new routes for actually giving the operative a chance. At Friendship, perhaps, but definitely at being... less of an operative and more of a healer, as it was becoming clear to Twilight that the batpony, herself, would prefer that in the long run.

However, that very discussion had only happened because Twilight hadn't actually been able to get a hold of Midnight, who had returned from his errand only after she had offered Rowan Berry some of her time. He had been as surprised by the night’s events as Twilight, though not so pleasantly, finding her and Rowan Berry conversing despite his many warnings to her. He had still looked genuinely worried as they shared a quick first meal, though Twilight had tried to tell him that everything was perfectly fine with stares and discreet gestures.

Her beloved had brought news with him as well as food. Lord Dusk Harvest would not be leading them on their tour around the Mountain tonight due to being… busy. Whether that claim was true or simply being used as an excuse to avoid confronting the lingering embarrassment of his slip honestly didn’t matter to Twilight. If the haspadr wanted his space and the opportunity to calm himself, while letting her stay in the Iug for a little longer, then she would gladly oblige him.

However, the haspadr had actually managed to find somepony else to guide them, leading to one of the “not so good” reasons for Twilight’s plan changing. Instead of the Honored Lord accompanying her and her retinue, it would be the Overseer General tending to them on their tour. Considering the relationship between Midnight and Dusk Tarn, Twilight had conceded to herself that it was best at the moment not to pressure her beloved about what he’d planned to say before Discord interrupted him. Midnight was going to have a hard enough time with the sightseeing as it was.

All of that raced through Twilight’s mind as she rummaged through her belongings, searching for that one particular ensemble. With the news of tonight’s activities came the suggestion to dress warmly, a suggestion she would not ignore. She understood that the caverns under the Valleys, their most likely destination, would give her a good reason to want a thicker dress.

Thankfully, once she had found what she sought , putting it on was just a matter of a spell or two. Not that she wouldn’t want to take some time to appreciate Rarity’s work, since despite not being strictly familiar with mountainous climates, her friend had managed to create something perfectly suited for the environment, harmonizing elegance and practicality, its granite-hued fabric pleasing to the eye while still being thick enough to withstand the cold and the mountain winds. Twilight definitely appreciated the firmer material it was made of, encompassing her body as snugly as a glove. The quality of the lining was astonishing, holding itself quite well even in comparison to the local, “regal” wool, and the high trim of ermine fur, which made sure to protect the neck, was of similar, noble quality. A high standard, style, and solid craft, it all spoke for the ensemble, telling a tale of a piece no mare would ever regret having. That seemed quite proper for something from Rarity’s portfolio, indeed.

Perhaps Twilight didn’t consider herself an icon of fashion, nor knowledgeable in the nuances of that particular art, yet she still felt very comfortable and even confident in the piece. The cuts creating space for wings hadn’t been forgotten, and she was certain Rarity had specifically made sure that the trimming was delicate enough not to irritate the appendages when flying. Nor did it feel restricting, either with Twilight's wings folded or fully extended. To top it off, the gown’s hood came with an elegant clasp, allowing it to be put above her head even with her horn squarely on its front while still protected her from the cold and any buffeting winds.

The last time she had needed to borrow a cloak from the local supply, when she and Midnight had visited the Glacier Overlook and danced among the wondrous snowflakes, had been due to the moment being a surprise. This time she was prepared for the cold, and… hoping she hadn’t gone too far doing so.

Well, she had nothing to lose but her dignity, right?

At least her entourage looked convinced by her choice, even if they themselves sported only a little more clothing then usual.

“Honored Princess, I see you took the word of warning seriously,” Midnight claimed, himself deciding, despite his thicker, batpony coat, to add a smart, dark grey jacket to his apparel, fitted underneath his breastplate. It made him look even more appealing, in a very elegant, though clearly still military, way.

“We’re going someplace cold, aren’t we?” Twilight replied to her beloved with a smile, since he had clearly prepared himself for the same.

Rowan Berry, meanwhile, had decided to help her healer’s gown with a cute looking brown vest of thick wool with a furry trim. “Honestly, if we are heading to the storage vaults, then the temperature might be compared to the mountain glaciers, hwalba knaze,” she stated, checking whether the skirt of her gown was encompassing her hind legs properly. “But I wouldn’t want to spoil whatever the Nadvidan Okolnu has prepared.”

Honestly, neither would Twilight, but at the mention of the Overseer General, she did glance Midnight’s way in concern. To his credit, not even a wayward twitch of his muzzle betrayed the dread he must have felt at the thought of meeting Dusk Tarn again.

She just hoped her beloved wasn’t simply holding that displeasure in, for his own sake. She wouldn’t want it to erupt at an inopportune moment, such as during a talk she was planning to have with him…

As per the received request, Twilight was guided by her entourage to the main cavern of the Mountain, where she found herself once again appreciating the unique architecture of the place, encompassing and incorporating so many of the natural rock formations. It made her wonder what other marvels the Dusks’ construction style and approach might show her. Was the local shrine perhaps utilizing some stalactites as hanging chandeliers? Perhaps there would be a chance to see it for herself soon enough, or later when she would pass by the Mountain on the way back to the Sanctuary.

Trotting through the grand cavern, Twilight also wondered whether her more conservative gown would make her stand out a little less from the busy crowd. This question was answered almost immediately, for she still witnessed a healthy number of glances, stares, and peeks, all centered on her, still an outsider. On the bright side, as far as she could tell, she wasn’t being treated like an enemy in the midst of the faithful followers of the Immaculate Moon… She still remembered when it had felt like that was the case, and it still made her shudder just a little. But now that had changed, a switch that was most welcome to her. Yes, the Dusks looked at her as an odd pony out, but they treated her as if her presence was just another part of their night. A little extraordinary part, perhaps, but not of lasting significance. What mattered her appearance? There were things to do, crops to tend to, tasks to finish, responsibilities to uphold, and a wayward Equestrian Princess would not influence any of that.

Well, perhaps she would affect things a little, Twilight amended, as she spotted a pair of local fillies among the crowd of denizens. They were gazing with awe at her wings and horn, their eyes wide and filled with pure, innocent wonder. Their mother, after shaking her head at them, laughed and said something to the pair, likely telling them off for ogling and leaving their mouths agape. Still, Twilight imagined that she must have looked quite similar to those foals when witnessing the breadth of batpony culture, achievements, and hard work.

Speaking of which, Dusk Tarn, in all of his importance and frigid presence, was already waiting at the entrance to one of the smaller tunnels, though he seemed to emerge from the crowd and come into Twilight’s vision from the omnipresent crowd suddenly, like a lake that can only be spotted when one gazed at the right angle past several stony peaks and slopes. The stallion sported the traditional attire of both a fruittender and a noble, alongside a thick, woolen overcoat, and his marigold gaze instantly fixated on Twilight, staring at her with keen focus, as if actively trying not to see anypony else accompanying her.

Which made a certain, grim sense.

“Neskaza Lunee... welae tueu noc illum, hwalba knaze,” Dusk Tarn began as soon as the group approached, with an appropriate, if gentle, nod of his head. “I shall be your guide for the night, as requested by the hwalbu haspadr.”

“I welae Neskaza Lunee… illum tuu noc tez, Overseer General,” Twilight responded with a smile, trying to stop herself from immediately looking back at her love to check how he was holding up. “I am very grateful to the Honored Lord Harvest of Family Dusk for this opportunity. Still, I hope you are not being distracted from your tasks by my visit.”

The middle-aged stallion… perhaps it wasn't a smile, but his lips shuddered just a little. “As much as a visit by a foreign dignitary after so many centuries of isolation could be considered a mere ‘distraction’,” he commented like it was a jest, though he sounded utterly serious. “Fret not, Honored Princess, I might be responsible for the kaste, but I have a whole hierarchy of overseers beneath me that can hold their own even without my direct supervision. They will keep to the… quota, as it is said in your tongue, for a night or two.”

“I understand, and am relieved. I imagine that it is the very heart and essence of the fruittenders’ mission, ensuring enough food is produced for the nation among your caste’s many duties,” Twilight pointed out, receiving a silent agreement from Dusk Tarn, though... one that suggested that what she had said was so obvious that it didn’t need acknowledgement at all. She flushed a little in embarrassment, feeling even more like the foals she’d seen earlier.

Thankfully, the Overseer General pointed down the adjacent tunnel, inviting her to follow his lead, though his body language made it perfectly clear that he was focusing on Twilight alone. The intensity of the stallion’s steps suggested that, despite her focus on Midnight’s feelings regarding this unfortunate meeting, Dusk Tarn was also haunted by the past, ignoring the other stallion with desperate purpose.

Sadly, Twilight knew she wouldn’t be able to help, that she couldn’t really touch on the subject at all. It would be weird, out of place... not to mention her own, emotional entanglement with Midnight would surely make it all the more awkward for everypony involved. She would just have to focus on the technical side of their tour.

Not that that would be particularly difficult.

The tunnel lead them all down at a steady pace, soon connecting to a wider passage, where the ridges on the floor betrayed its use as the main artery for carts and transportation of goods. Even with that hint clearly visible, Dusk Tarn was keen on explicitly explaining the place’s function outright anyway, pointing down both of the route’s lantern-lit paths. “This tunnel here leads from the storage caverns underneath the Dalli to our Family’s own larders,” he said, his hoof hovering over one of the tunnel mouths. “We shall be heading down the passage tonight, first arriving at the Zetelu Locum.”

“I do beg your pardon, what does that name mean?” Twilight quickly asked, hoping she hadn’t interrupted the stallion.

He didn’t give her that impression, though his expression and voice remained frigid. “The term means ‘the Fair Place’. Since all Noctraliya depends almost solely on the food supplied by the Valleys, it needs to be distributed justly between all the Families and all the settlements, in accordance with the needs of the recipients and the principles of impartiality. Zetelu Locum is exactly where the division happens, overseen by the honorable noctrali  of our kaste.”

“From all the Mountains, I imagine, to make sure that the process truly doesn’t favor anypony in particular,” Twilight finished for Dusk Tarn, though this time she could spot the sour taste her eagerness left in the stallion’s mouth.

“Precisely,” he still responded, ready to perform his task even with that touch of displeasure, before gesturing for her to follow. “It is an almost venerated task, so do not be concerned with how it might look. Each shipment has to be precisely calculated, checked when it comes to both freshness and weight, secured, stamped, and sent on its way at the right moment so that the process can continue without, as you say, ‘hiccups’,” Dusk Tarn explained, his voice gaining that keen quality of a supervisor by calling. “You shall soon witness that, hwalba knaze…”

With the stallion’s cold tone it almost sounded like a warning, yet what Twilight spotted after a brief moment of walking down and down the passageway, letting loaded carts pass them every so often, definitely gave the Oversee General’s words more context.

The cavern, of the same, solutional nature as the other dwellings of the Family Dusk, looked more like a massive courtroom than a place for sorting food, even bearing some artistic reliefs and a little bit of color about it. A mark of the Immaculate Moon was painted at the very top, where the stalactites were less prevalent, or perhaps had been removed entirely so that the sign of the Goddess’ presence could be showcased instead.

As her group was standing on the elevated entrance to the cave, Twilight could easily spot not only what was above everypony’s heads but also what sat at or below their level, including, in the center of the busy room, some sort of an altar, right underneath the painted symbol of the lunar discus. It was a simple slab of solid stone, upon which she saw crate after crate of produce carefully and precisely placed by the focused fruittenders to be assessed and divided by seven other figures, all wearing long robes that made them appear like venerable priests while still possessing motifs and colors that clearly identified them as members of the owocellatani caste.

Those elders, both stallions and mares, advanced in years yet quick and precise in their movements, were judging the fruit brought before them in an almost meditative cadence, weighing, inspecting, studying, and pressing. Even from this distance it was obvious, despite Twilight’s untrained gaze, that these “judges” were most meticulous when it came to everything about the food presented before them, be that shape, color, firmness, or smell. Oranges were scrutinized, grapes were perused, watermelons were audited. Everything was noted down by eager scribes, sporting ledgers in which they quickly wrote and calculated, adding every fruit into the great equation of Noctraliya’s well-being.

From time to time, one or another of the elders pointed something out, quickly gathering the attention of the others an event which was promptly followed by a short, hushed deliberation on the fate of a particular fruit. Either it would be chosen as worthy despite whatever had attracted attention to it, or it would be found wanting and discarded to whatever miserable dole awaited it, without mercy, without a chance for reprieve, the great work of the elders unable to stop or slow for any reason, even pity for those judged harshly.

Twilight shook her head in awe. “I must say, Overseer General,” she whispered, her voice lowered out of an instinctual respect for the fierce tribunal, “it is quite the unique sight... The experience of those ponies is undeniable, even to one unfamiliar with their work.”

“That it is,” Dusk Tarn admitted, giving the scene a respectful nod. “Food is precious to us, and those that work to assure it is divided fairly are absolutely crucial...”

“My guess is that it would be all too easy to face disagreements otherwise,” Twilight commented, scouting for the stallion’s reaction. “A scarce resource is a coveted one. If there is no proper control over its distribution, one devoid of individual ambition, conflict can spark at any moment.”

“A very astute observation, hwalba knaze,” the Overseer General replied, with just that one note of praise. “Thankfully, as our chronicles state, this matter was very quickly solved by the introduction of a very precise system of division.”

That must have been surely the case. If Twilight hadn’t known better and actually met the Covenant of Noctraliya, she would have thought that she was witnessing it before her, as those fruit judges, representing the Seven Families, had enough intensity and strange majesty about them themselves to match the council of haspadri.

“Of course, one might say that such a meticulous approach to something as basic as food might be foolhardy even,” Dusk Tarn pointed out, though his perpetually cold tone stopped Twilight from discerning whether he was expecting actual ridicule from the Equestrian perspective for example. “Still, I believe that this is a better way than a constant conflict over fertile lands.”

That was simply a fact. It was easy to imagine that one Family having full control over the Valleys would lead it to becoming the absolutely dominant. So, while still well aware of the possibility of civil wars within Noctraliya, Twilight was relieved to see common ground found in such a fundamental matter.

Besides, she had to admit that these judges were fast, and it had nothing to do with their assessments being cursory or rushed in any way. These were experts, and their speed and precision could easily match those of the inspectors in Cloudsdale’s weather factories, assuring that the production or, in this case, distribution was moving along at the right pace.

“I have been told that the fruittender caste is additionally protected in Noctraliyan society, and I'm beginning to understand the reason why, Overseer General,” she admitted, earning another short nod from the stallion.

“Ours is a special task, indeed. If we didn’t have Neskaza Lunee... to watch over us and guide us, then we would have found sanctity in food, I sometimes think,” Dusk Tarn told her, his voice a little philosophical at that point. “But She is with us,” he pointed out, literally gesturing up at the sign of the Goddess at the chamber’s ceiling, “and so we are not fated to find divinity in the mundane, however scarce, sustaining, and important.”

Having said that, the Overseer General suggested moving on, not to dwell in the area too long and risk disrupting the process... but Twilight was going to dwell on his observation. She hadn’t really heard such a perspective in Noctraliya before, not even from Lord Blessed Fang. Nevertheless, she gave the Fair Place one last glance as they trotted away from the main thoroughfare, witnessing the ranks of carts pouring in, a steady stream of life-granting supplies for all batponies to share.

Supplies that were, as she managed to spot, brought in sturdy crates of perfect quality, with a shine that suggested wax was being used to seal them... which meant that Lord Consort Kindlefang’s immediate family’s business could make them even more affluent and important than Twilight had initially thought!

“Remarkable organization, Overseer General,” she let the guiding stallion know, observing how transports were moving about in a steady pace, passing by undisturbed even when tunnels were joining together or crossing over. “I imagine that even being one of the porters takes proper training and discipline.”

“And adherence to a strict schedule, yes. I don’t wish to mistranslate, but I think the expression could be said as… ‘Who does not work, let him not eat’,” Dusk Tarn stated, his frigid tone matching the words perfectly in that instance. “Serving our society is both an honor and an obligation. There is only so much that our lands can give us, we must give our share in return.”

Twilight almost feared asking the next question which came to her mind… but she wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t learn of the stern stallion’s view in its entirety.

“You are, without a doubt, aware of my mission in Noctraliya, Overseer General,” she began, only saying more once she saw another one of Dusk Tarn’s brief nods. “A new diplomatic and cultural understanding between our nations could bring the Seven Mountains opportunities to provide far more food to all of their denizens… What is your view on such a change?”

The stallion’s eyes squinted just a little, even if he looked down the pathway they were taking rather than at Twilight herself.

“I shall not express my opinion regarding the nuances of diplomacy and statecraft. I follow the lead of the Honored Lord and the esteemed Cowene…”

“No, no, that is not what I am asking about—”

“I am aware, hwalba knaze,” the Overseer General almost interrupted her, glancing her way briefly. In his eyes she didn’t see much enthusiasm… maybe even less than in his voice. “I must admit, however, that I am of two minds about such a possibility, if I am using the right Ekwestriyar expression.”

“… oh,” Twilight quietly exhaled her great surprise. “Yes, you are, Overseer General, but… could I learn why?”

Dusk Tarn took a moment to actually answer, first taking the group even further down the tunnels, so much so that one had to open their muzzle or actually yawn to get rid of the unpleasant feeling of blocked ears. At least Twilight had to, making sure she did so covertly to avoid giving the impression that she wasn’t truly interested in the stallion’s explanation.

“On the one hoof, I, as perhaps every single owocellatan who has ever toiled to provide for Noctraliya does, wish to see our nation strong, fed, healthy, and safe,” he asserted, dedication and patriotism showing themselves even from behind the cold tone of his voice. “We know that you have read the Swyiadeztwo, hwalba knaze, the recounting of our history. You can tell why our goals would be as such, as well…”

Twilight only nodded, hoping that the lack of a further, grimmer change in Dusk Tarn’s voice meant that the news and rumors were actually helpful to her.

“Then again on the other hoof,” the stallion added, “I am Nadvidan Okolnu. I have had to whip enough misfits into shape, motivate enough stragglers, and discipline enough naysayers, because even in our noble nation there are ponies like that. I know that the necessity of order and structure is also based on our needs and our wants. I believe that sudden change might have… unforeseen consequences.”

“Such as?” Twilight asked, before deciding to try and explain her curiosity, since Dusk Tarn’s glance toward her was anything but pleasant. “I know that I won’t be able to allay everypony’s fears, but I want to at least try and understand as much as I possibly can, if you would only give me the chance, Overseer General.”

Dusk Tarn wasn’t exactly struck with awe by her stance, but he did find it at least somewhat intriguing, enough so that, as they were descending a spiral staircase into still lower levels of the tunnels and caverns, he decided to share his view.

But was it Twilight, or was his gaze occasionally escaping towards Midnight Wind, trotting stoically right behind the two of them, with Rowan Berry by his side?

“We all understand that our homeland challenges us and that we need to step up to that challenge, nopony of right mind will contest that. Yet that is exactly what grants us strength. Hardships make us resilient. Problems make us wise. Necessity makes us cunning…” Dusk Tarn explained, his tone not leaving much space for misinterpretation.

Still, Twilight found it prudent to ask, since… well, she didn’t think that she had encountered such an approach before, at least not one which suggested that all the adversities the noctrali had to deal with were beneficial to that level.

“So… if I understand correctly, you are worried that, with Equestria’s aid, Noctraliya’s situation might improve, which would consequentially… weaken you?”

The Overseer General sighed ever so briefly. “I admit to dreading that possibility, however happy I would otherwise be for our nation to flourish. I am simply concerned that when the necessary structure and discipline loosens, things inevitably worsen around one. You will be surely travelling to the Iug u Kwadr, hwalba knaze, you could ask them about it there.”

Twilight wouldn’t have necessarily considered the stallion next to her as prejudiced, not from their interactions so far, and she still wasn’t changing her mind, but she was wondering whether he was only speaking with the Crescent Family stereotype in mind or if something else was the source of his scorn. What she knew for certain, however, was that his mood had darkened, like when deep shadows fall over a glacier, giving it an ominous hue of silent but unmistakable danger.

“But you wouldn’t need to seek that far,” the Overseer General added, with a threateningly calm voice. “You forget your vows, your oaths, your dedication, and a fall surely follows. One that can drag down not only you, but those around you… and crush them.”

Twilight would definitely ponder on such a sentiment as well. Firstly, because Dusk Tarn had a certain point, one that was clearly reinforced by his religious views, his conviction being the one thing that was heating his speech at that particular moment. Yet secondly and perhaps more importantly… because the intensity of his sentences was eerily familiar.

Though, before Twilight had a real chance to dwell on it, or ask the Overseer General about the exact reason for his words, she found herself distracted, mostly by the realization that her breath was now visible, in the form of vapor. Although she hadn’t registered the cold before, busy as she had been talking with Dusk Tarn, at this point it was hard to ignore that the temperature had fallen quite a bit, as opposed to increasing like one would usually expect when venturing deeper into the ground.

She was glad that she had her ensemble on her, since the stairwell was not done yet, and the cold persisted and gained strength as they continued their descent.

The Overseer General, despite the topic they had just been discussing, immediately switched to an explanation, his voice regaining its, now very fitting, frigid quality. “Gathering fruit and sending it to the other Iugi are two aspects of ensuring that everypony is fed, but even the Dalli don’t allow for constant harvest when the winter months come. As such, we were also forced to develop means of storage. We are aware that Equestria knows the processes to preserve fruit. If my vocabulary is correct… ‘drying’ and just ‘preserves’.”

Twilight nodded, redirecting her focus from the previous topic to the present one. “That’s correct. But I can tell from your tone, Overseer General, and from the change in temperature, that those ones are not the preferred methods in Noctraliya.”

“Drying robs the fruit of the juice which we desperately need,” Dusk Tarn immediately replied, as if the process itself was something insulting his sensibility, “while all of those peculiar products that we know you are creating require that… ‘sugar’ substance. I am definitely intrigued by it, but we certainly cannot produce it here. Those plants you make it from don’t want to grow in the Dalli, not that we have enough space to properly accommodate them in the first place.”

Twilight wasn’t surprised, even though she didn’t miss the fact that it meant the batponies had managed to procure some sugar beets from Equestria, and maybe even sugarcane from beyond the Macintosh Hills and the Badlands in the south. The Valleys were a thing of beauty when it came to noctrali effort and ingenuity, but surely even they couldn’t bend the laws of nature and cultivation that much.

The Overseer General stopped on the bottom of the stairwell, where a hefty set of doors was possibly the only barrier between them and the source of the spreading cold.

“So we turned to what we know, taking from what’s dangerous and a challenge and taming it – ice.”

Having said that in an almost theatrical fashion, or maybe that was just Twilight’s imagination, for the stallion’s tone didn’t change a bit, Dusk Tarn produced a key from his robes and unlocked the passage.

“Enter with haste, please.”

Twilight did so, quickly finding herself straight in a massive cellar, one which greeted her with a truly freezing embrace. A central passageway led through the cavern, like a precarious bridge over a dark chasm, only that the span had actual railings and, instead of murkiness and danger lurking within the ravine, it held aid and a promise of safety. Even from this angle, she could spot a number of levels down, each one with a considerable number of niches filled to their brim with ice, undoubtedly hiding within them the true treasures of the place.

And also reminding Twilight to actually pull up the furry collar of her gown, and fidget on her hooves just a little bit, to try and battle the freezing sensation encompassing her.

“You have no shortage of ice, that is for sure,” Twilight commented, following the Overseer General, who, after quickly securing the door behind the group, also made sure that he was properly covered, even though he was already benefiting from his naturally thicker coat. As he passed by Midnight to take the lead again, a shiver went through him, though Twilight knew it had nothing to do with the omnipresent cold.

It felt prudent to keep to the subject of the tour, Twilight decided. “Is this a natural place, or was it all carved from the sheer rock, Overseer General?”

“A part of it was a natural cavern, yes, with a small lake in it,” Dusk Tarn told her, leading her through the chamber and carefully inspecting it as they passed. In the distance, two other batponies were transporting a cart with haste. “But with the population growing over time, so did the requirements for storage. This place snakes through most of the Dalli above, allowing easy access with lifts in several places, though they work on a strict schedule. The passage we took is only for individual ponies entering quickly. We strive to avoid creating drafts in here, as well as having too many owocellatani present at once, to avoid unnecessarily affecting the temperature.”

It had to be said, though Twilight first did so mentally, that noctrali dedication was a thing to be praised. She also considered that, with the advancements of Equestrian technology and arcane studies, a lot of the hard toil associated with refrigeration had already been worked out in her homeland. Of course, that did not take away any part of the batpony achievement, simply gave her a broader view on the matter of their needs.

Twilight definitely wouldn’t want such vast and impressive work to go to waste, but it was foolhardy to consider any scenarios where, even after bringing Friendship to Noctraliya and helping reconcile them and Equestria, no changes would occur in the batponies’ way of life.

Also… the persistent cold wasn’t exactly making it easy to concentrate, she quickly realized. It would be even harder if not for the fact that, despite the freezing feeling, the smallest of whiffs of citrus graced Twilight’s nose from time to time.

“This is all most impressive, Overseer General. How long can you keep the fruit edible, thanks to your efforts?”

“Bogine grata, about half a year, though it seldom remains here for so long…” Dusk Tarn claimed, leaning over one of the railings briefly to check on something, his brow furrowing. “We try to keep a stable surplus, just in case, though, as you might imagine, hwalba knaze, there’s only so much one can calculate, even if we have become quite adapt at applying the…” He looked back at Twilight, searching for the right words. “… ‘margin of error’, I believe the expression is.”

“Indeed,” she assured him, trying to stop herself from trotting in place. It would help a little with the frigid feeling, but it would make it harder for her to win the Overseer General’s respect. “One can only foresee and prepare for so much. Even in Equestria, with all our knowledge, technology, and magic, we still understand that to claim otherwise would be either naïve or reckless.”

Dusk Tarn glanced at her with interest after that particular statement, an interest that he proved not afraid to voice. “I find that a little hard to believe, actually,” he admitted, gesturing for the group to continue moving even as he spoke. “I would think that using the Zgublyi Poydari would grant one a feeling of… blind assurance.”

Twilight’s own brow furrowed. “The ‘Lost Gifts’, as you call them, Overseer General, might be a great blessing upon us, but we hardly consider ourselves impervious to dangers just because we possess them. Yes, Equestria might enjoy relative peace and prosperity, but just as in Noctraliya, those blessings only come through the great dedication and hard work of its ponies, whatever abilities they might have. Challenges come our way, too, and our possession of the ‘Lost Gifts’ doesn’t decrease their number.”

She pondered whether she’d spoken too harshly in response to Dusk Tarn’s criticism, but the stallion didn’t seem offended. Quite the opposite, actually.

“So Ekwestriyani do remember the hardships of life, at least as much as those exist out there…” he muttered, nodding. “One lives and one learns. I did not expect you to know of adversity and the struggle to overcome it, hwalba knaze. ‘Idyllic’, I think, is the word that comes to mind when thinking of the domain under the Judging Sun, though for us such a realm would be one of pain.”

“And for many of us the threats of Noctraliya would be too much,” Twilight told him in return. “But we all carry our own burdens. There is nothing to be gained by comparing them, unlike each other as they are. It’s better to focus on doing one’s part properly with resilience, wisdom, and sometimes even cunning…”

She wasn’t sure if the Overseer General recognized his own words in her mouth, but he definitely looked rather pleased about her response. At least, as far as one could tell from his constantly cold voice.

“Hmmm… Then perhaps some of my own fears might be, after all, allayed.”

Now she was convinced that he had realized, and was satisfied to respond in kind. Though… she wasn’t expecting the follow-up sentence.

“I have no reason to doubt your words, hwalba knaze, though I must confess that thinking that foreign ponies can be more virtuous and principled than our own kind sickens me…”

Twilight had to blink. For two reasons, once again. First, because she wasn’t expecting that much vitriol and relentlessness from Dusk Tarn, especially with the constant, frigid quality of his voice, though its intensity there and then could freeze the blood in one’s veins.

No less than the second reason she needed to blink – the low, vicious hiss, almost silent but still discernible, coming from Midnight behind her.

She couldn’t help but turn around to look at her beloved… and everything about him, from his sharply glaring eyes to his shuddering upper lip, poised to bare his fangs, was telling her that he was doing his absolute best not to erupt there and then. That he was desperately trying to control his anger at… at Dusk Tarn?

Something was very wrong, Twilight should have realized that by now. The enmity between the two stallions was one thing, but those remarks? The Overseer General had a grudge, one strong enough for Midnight to feel, not even needing the older stallion’s glances and words to realize its existence. But… why did Twilight feel like the death of Dusk Stream was not even the tip of the iceberg, but only one, small part of a great glacier of enmity, manifesting right before her eyes? Enmity which was attested to by Rowan Berry, standing a little away from Midnight and wearing an expression of concern, readiness, and… was that remorse crossing her muzzle?

What was going on in this frozen fissure?!

Twilight wondered if the temperature had something to do with everypony suddenly acting peculiar… though she couldn’t really tell any change in herself, other than feeling that she really didn’t want to stand still for too long. As for the others, and the conflict brewing between them… was it better to say something? Let the moment pass?

The choice was made for her, however, as Dusk Tarn, after locking his gaze with Midnight’s for a good while, finally broke the connection with a shake of his head.

“We'd best continue, I wouldn’t want us affecting the place,” he claimed, though it was an open question whether he meant the rise in temperature or a brawl of some sort, as the intensity of the moment made the latter feel likely, if not imminent.

Mercifully, the pressure actually managed to die somewhat as they continued trotting through the cavern, passing through several sets of doors on the way, dividing the cold cellar into sections. At one point, they actually had to split apart briefly, to let a transport move down the passageway.

That gave Twilight the briefest of moments to turn to Midnight, hoping her whisper could reach him over the sound of the heavy cart’s wheels.

“Are you okay?”

He didn’t reply at first. When he finally did, even though his voice was quiet, she could still tell it was strained.

“I will be when we finish.”

That, Twilight was willing to believe. When she glanced at Dusk Tarn his gaze was following the pair of ponies handling the goods, fortunately, but Rowan Berry, right beside him, also looked quite uncomfortable with her company.

Soon, however, the Overseer General resumed leading Twilight, telling her that they were going to leave the frigid cellar, trot up a little, and tour some of the local warehouses where equipment was stored. That would still be very interesting for her, if less so than the storagefacility, and yet… she couldn’t quite bring herself to enjoy the trip anymore.

Her mind was wandering on its own. She could understand animosity to a certain level, even if the grief over a lost wife and over a lost daughter should have worked together to give both stallions at least a certain amount of closure. Yet there was none of that here. This was an open wound that, though Twilight had witnessed and helped Midnight slowly heal from it, was still bleeding profusely for Dusk Tarn.

But… why? Was it that hard for the Overseer General to accept what had happened to his daughter? It was a tragedy, no doubt, but… he seemed like a very spiritually strong person. He spoke with conviction that betrayed a sturdy religious foundation. Should that not have been able to offer him at least some succor? It couldn’t be that his faith had no impact on how he felt, he wasn’t blaming the Goddess, nor the world around him, for Dusk Stream’s death, as would be expected if his trials had shattered his belief. No, he was specifically targeting Midnight with his hatred, as if it was Twilight’s beloved who had caused the avalanche to come down…

… was there another reason, then? That the unfortunate mare had perished in that way was clearly true, Twilight never doubted the genuine regret in Midnight’s voice, however… were there more reasons for it than just a mistimed journey back to her home Mountain?

And why was Midnight not the only one—

“Hwalba knaze?” Dusk Tarn’s voice managed to catch Twilight’s attention.

“Oh!” she voiced her surprise, actually almost bumping into the stallion. “Oh, do forgive me, Overseer General, I was just… considering something, must have lost focus,” she hastily tried to explain herself. However justifiable she felt her considerations had been, she still felt her muzzle redden with shame at how she’d ignored the stallion before her.

Dusk Tarn’s tone felt marginally more understanding than cold. “I see. No need to worry. I hope the visit to the fruit cellars didn’t cause you too much fatigue, however.”

“I wouldn’t say so, no,” Twilight told him. At least, not in terms of tiredness which she could explain by the cold. In terms of that which was caused by intense consideration, her answer would be different. “That being said, I wasn’t expecting to encounter such low temperatures, even with the received warning.”

“We could stop for a brief moment, if that would be preferable,” the Overseer General suggested. “I have places I am bound to show you, hwalba knaze, for the sake of you witnessing the scope of our work, but if that is not to your liking, I could adjust the schedule…”

“I’m not going to keep you from your duties any longer than absolutely necessary, Overseer General,” Twilight assured him, idly wondering how much Midnight’s discomfort played a part in her decision. “I’m willing to continue.”

And so they did, even if her attention wasn’t fully present. Still, even with her galloping thoughts, Twilight couldn’t possibly miss everything about the places that they were soon trotting through.

She quickly discovered that she hadn’t been wrong in her wager from a couple nights ago. The Valleys, aside from being an agricultural region on the surface, housed an entire city of warehouses, storage places, temporary quarters, even a small shrine to the Immaculate Moon, all deep underneath the gardens and plantations. A metropolis of structures, all in a style that, at least in theory, could be described as the “universal” architecture of the batponies. Not as purely or geometrically sound as the work of the Midnight Family, but still of solid quality, which encompassed arcs, door portals, and an occasional floral or star-like ornament. More than anything, however, it was utilitarian.

Actually, that was quite a fitting expression, as everything that the fruittenders might have needed to do their work was present underneath the Dalli, from equipment and medical attention to spiritual guidance. One thing that Twilight found to be somewhat lacking was, honestly, entertainment, specifically places where it was the intended result instead of an accidental one, though she imagined that the caste’s dedication didn't really allow for a lot of chances to visit places of leisure. Truth be told, other than hearing about those in the Mountain of Crescent, she hadn’t really encountered much in the way of organized enterprises, the Fangs’ arena notwithstanding. She found herself wondering whether religion had not claimed a significant part of that role in Noctraliya…

Respite through submission and spiritual relaxation... that didn’t sound entirely baseless. Then again, given her character and occupation, Twilight would be one of the last ponies to advocate for exchanging pursuit of one of those more reflective pastimes for one of the livelier ones. Though, she imagined, Pinkie Pie would give her an earful for thinking like that.

Strangely, one of Twilight’s ears did start itching a little...

Dusk Tarn was doing his best to provide her with the right context as they moved from one cavern to another. “As you can see, hwalba knaze, the region is well-suited for housing, supporting, and providing for all the owocellatani  of the Seven Mountains. We are also well-prepared for the matter of recording the work done and the number of workers from the respective Families, so that nopony is found lacking anything necessary. They come here to do their duty, so they must be allowed to do so as much as possible, without being worried about any basic needs. The Iugi  are also required to send supplies and materials to the Valleys as part of a seasonal plan.”

“As much as the fruittenders support the country,” Twilight replied, observing the crowds of ponies, each individual busy as a bee with something important in the life of their grand hive, “the Dalli and the country support them back.”

“Exactly. You take, you give. Sometimes it is harder to ‘calculate’ one’s contribution,” Dusk Tarn admitted, though without any signs of reluctance, even a frigid one, “but it is a universal understanding among us, especially in this place, that the greater good is at stake. Everypony must do what it takes.”

The stallion finally decided to stop, doing so at a spot that illustrated his point even further. Their resting place was a little terrace, overlooking an active thoroughfare that encompassed many levels, reaching lower and lower before disappearing from Twilight’s sight. The sheer number of carts visible suggested that they were being brought in from different ends of the Valleys, with transports and ponies appearing and disappearing through various tunnels on journeys to and from every part of the region. Twilight found herself glued to the stone railing, looking down at the wagons of bright oranges, grand watermelons, abundant grapes, even the occasional pears. And more than just fruit – tools, water barrels, wool, feed…

Not even the presence of an Equestrian royal and the first sunpony to enter Noctraliya for a millennium could stop this constant motion of toil, responsibility, and duty. Twilight was witnessing a country’s very bloodstream before her eyes. Pump after pump, trot after trot, hundreds upon hundreds of ponies keeping the nation alive and well, like a heartbeat of toil and... and…

She blinked. Why could she… Had she heard a rhythm just then? Coming from somewhere beneath?

Yet it was gone in an instant, though it seemed to… call to her… 

She shook her head, clearing it of that strange notion. What she was witnessing, really witnessing, was unmistakably inspiring.

Twilight wanted to speak up, to comment on the sight she was witnessing, but it looked like regathering her thoughts and clearing out those brief, strange ones had taken her longer than she’d thought. The Overseer General’s words reached her before she could even turn and open her own muzzle.

“Lupule, do you have any kin around, perhaps?” Dusk Tarn seemed to have actually turned to Rowan Berry for the moment. “It seems like I should know you from someplace...”

“Perhaps distant, Nadvidan Okolnu, but, more than that I do not know,” the healer replied, her voice perfectly calm, even with how she had been looking at the older stallion before. “House Orchid is a rather cloistered bloodline from the Mountain of Sunfalls...”

Twilight turned to see the Overseer General nodding, a thoughtful look on his muzzle. “I see, but—kwid ia dict Ekwestriyar...?” he interrupted himself, realizing that he was unconsciously speaking in the foreign language.

Twilight furrowed her brow, though not at the stallion having any issues with conversing in Equestrian, as his abilities there were actually remarkable. No, her problem was in what Rowan Berry had said, namely that it was a lie. Yes, she could see the mare’s reasons for choosing to do so, but still, to add one more to her already long list, even after previously deciding that it wouldn't be necessary?

Twilight couldn’t focus on that for much longer, as the Overseer General gave one last look to the healer, then spoke up again. In Equestrian, despite his recent revelation. “Hwalba knaze, that is almost everything that I had planned for tonight, minus some lesser caverns about. However, I realize that it still took a lot of time. I imagine that you must be quite thirsty at this point,” he expressed his genuine, if frigid, concern.

“Not that much, Overseer General, but we have been sightseeing for quite a while now, yes. For which, I must say, I am very grateful. I think I am just now beginning to see the depth of Noctraliya’s… essence, the hard work and dedication which lie behind your country’s every safe night,” Twilight revealed in turn.

Much to Dusk Tarn’s satisfaction, however masked it was. “Glad to hear that, hwalba knaze. I believe that all these honest, Goddess-loving ponies,” he said, pointing towards the many passageways beneath the terrace, “deserve their due recognition. Noctraliya stands thanks to them, the sweat on their brows and the salt on their coats. That you are beginning to grasp that and willing to accept it is, if I might say so, a thing of honor.”

Well, that was a very kind thing to say, Twilight realized, nodding in the stallion’s direction, something that she had been missing for the longest of times. Simple recognition of her efforts, without anything hidden beneath the kind words. Dusk Tarn wasn’t a politician testing her or an operative trying to gain her trust, he was just a supervisor, happy that the work of those underneath him was spotted, seen, and appreciated.

It seemed that, in spite of his exterior, and his convoluted history with Midnight, Dusk Tarn was a good sort of pony. He cared for the recognition of every night’s hard work, something Twilight was not going to deny him after all he had shown her.

“Rest assured, Overseer General, that, whether in the talks with the esteemed Covenant, or anywhere else my journey might take me, I will keep what I have seen in the Valleys in mind. And, of course, thank you for your time. I truly hope I truly didn’t interfere with your work, and that, if it shall be the Honored Lord’s will, we will have the chance to interact a bit more.”

Dusk Tarn nodded ever so briefly. “Once again, hwalba knaze, no work is left unattended, even if I am here. I hope I have done my part well enough. If you wish, I can lead you back to the Mountain now.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you further, Overseer General. I’m sure I can find my way, with the help of my retinue.”

Twilight was sure she could have, yes, but that wasn’t why she was suggesting it. Rather, she wanted to see whether Dusk Tarn would take the opportunity not to have to endure Midnight’s company any longer. She felt an almost compulsive desire to know just how deeply he despised her beloved’s presence.

Considering the shadow that passed over the older stallion’s muzzle, he very much wanted to leave. Twilight could feel the apprehension surfacing within him, but his sense of duty was stronger.

“Please, hwalba knaze, it shall not be a problem.”

“Nor will it be for me, Overseer General, and I want to respect your hard work and duties as well,” she said in return, speaking sincerely, even though her focus was on something other than politeness.

In this duel of kindness and courtesy, Twilight was the one victorious, though she felt anything but triumphant. “Very well, hwalba knaze,” Dusk Tarn relented, giving her a slightly longer nod than the previous ones. “Since you were given permission to venture around the Dalli, you can return to the Iug at your own pace. I will get back to my tasks in the meantime, but first I must notify hwalbu haspadr that you have been shown the caverns, just as he instructed.”

“Please let him know that I am grateful for the tour as well, Overseer General,” Twilight politely requested before the stallion turned around.

For all the positive, if lukewarm, relations between her and Dusk Tarn, Twilight couldn’t very well consider the night as pleasant. She could have sworn that, as he moved past Midnight, the Overseer General shivered hard once more, as if struggling to contain pure disgust and scathing words, desperately trying not to explode as he had previously. More so, even as he stepped further away, he still looked back at the group, and his eyes narrowed.

At least, that was what Twilight managed to spot before her entourage closed in, finally able to now that the frosty presence of the Overseer General had departed.

Midnight supported his healthy foreleg on the carved railing. “Not even I have seen so much of the Dalli,” he admitted, looking over the terrace’s edge and letting out a small exhale at the sight. “Ha. It still makes an impression, and I should know how it looks…”

Twilight reached up and tried to undo her gown a little, to allow the cooler air to reach her neck. She hadn't even realized how hot and sweaty she was in its warm embrace, as her focus had been mostly on Dusk Tarn, the tour which had taught her more about Noctraliya, and on the palpable tension surrounding the group. She must have looked properly tired, however, as Rowan Berry trotted even over, her brow furrowed.

“Are you alright, Honored Princess? You look winded. And pale,” she deemed.

She received an answer almost right away. “No, I’m not alright. Not at all,” Twilight revealed, a declaration which immediately caused Midnight to approach her, focus immediately shifting from his brethren below.

“What is happening, Honored Princess?” he asked, though the title was clearly only out of necessity.

“What is happening…” she parroted him, though she added a small but sour chuckle. “That is exactly what I want t know, actually. What is happening?”

The two batponies glanced at each other, and that stare pushed Twilight even further into her unstoppable rant. Mercifully, she retained enough self-control and reason to keep it hushed and without abundant gesticulation, preserving at least some measure of privacy.

“I really don’t like feeling nor acting like this, but… what is going on?” she asked, almost resigned. “Can somepony explain this to me? In detail, perhaps, or would that be too much to ask?”

Both batponies wanted to say something, apparently, but there were two things that stopped them. First, their voices clashed, their words colliding and turning into indiscernible noise.

Second, Twilight wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

“He doesn’t just dislike you, Midnight, he hates you. Dusk Tarn despises you with every fiber of his being,” she claimed, not even caring that she'd shortened her beloved’s name in front of Rowan Berry, giving him a strong look that finally caused his keen gaze to escape to the side finally. That was not pleasing in the slightest, so Twilight found herself turning to the healer instead. “And weren’t you supposed to be of House Grove? Why are you suddenly from some House Orchid? Are lies so inevitable? And why would they need to be?”

The other mare looked around as if expecting somepony to overhear them, but thankfully they were far enough away from everypony to have Twilight’s questions muffled by the bustle of the cavern behind them. To Twilight, it actually appeared like an excuse for Rowan Berry to simply avoid her scornful gaze, in a way eerily similar to Midnight’s.

He still didn’t dare to stare back. Even in her irritation, Twilight could see that he was battling himself over… something. What, though? This animosity between him and Dusk Tarn? Or something else entirely? Couldn’t she have one, simple, clear answer?

She almost threw her hooves up towards the rocky ceiling, but as that would definitely be an overt gesture, she resorted to simply turning away from her companions for the moment to stare over the railing behind her.

Her gaze scoured the cavern from top to bottom, as if she was looking for somepony, anypony, willing to tell her what matters around her were still concealed from her gaze, seemingly without rhyme and reason. While the duties of the batponies below were important, she doubted that the hard-working, honest fruittenders would be of much help to her in this predicament. The cave itself was not going to be aiding her, either. It was not like the cold, solid rocks of Noctraliya itself could answer her…

… and yet Twilight felt it.

She felt it, once more. Renewed. Stronger.

That cadence. That rhythm. Hooves on hooves, steps on steps, beats on beats. A heartbeat. A heartbeat of heartbeats…

That soft, solemn, summoning call…

Twilight didn’t know what happened. She just felt herself falling.





“You are perturbed about something, father.”

The genuinely concerned sentence was perhaps the only thing that could have roused Midnight Eye from the stupor of his thoughts. Though he was aware that any comfort he could draw would be temporary, as his concerns regarding the latest reports he had received seemed justified, he nevertheless found himself welcoming the chance to be reminded that he was meant to be spending time with his daughter.

Yet even that quick self-explanation sounded terribly and unnecessarily convoluted, by the Goddess…

“Is my state that obvious, Bright Midnight?” Midnight Eye inquired back, though he already had his answer.

“You are, without a doubt, skillfully trying to hide it with your cold expression…” his daughter responded, smiling just a little. She gracefully put down the goblet of juice she was holding, then reached out towards Midnight Eye’s muzzle. She traced the side of it with her hoof, a gesture the two of them could share only in the confines of privacy, even if her impediment could warrant such behavior despite the cultural boundaries.

“Even the way you clench your jaw speaks of your worry, father… Is it anything I could help with?”

Midnight Eye found himself closing his eyes for just a moment, finding pure, paternal joy in the touch of Bright Midnight. Her actions were always so meaningful and graceful, and her instincts had given her sight that went much further than that which her condition had taken from her. Even her blind gaze exuded dignity that would make any father proud.

Unfortunately… his daughter’s many virtues and the bond they shared wouldn’t be of any aid that particular moment. Which was, by itself, only more troubling.

“I suppose that I am finding myself under some pressure currently,” Midnight Eye revealed, hoping to avoid lying. He kept his voice stoic, knowing that any other tone would betray more of his inner turmoil. “However, it is something I am used to withstanding, as a Lord. There is never a shortage of matters to attend to. Still, your concern is moving, my daughter.”

“Not as much as your dedication, father,” Bright Midnight told him, her ears flicking and her head moving slightly to the side. “Yet I know that you must be even more focused nowanights, and it shows. As I understand it, the Honored Princess should have left for the Mountain of Dusk by this point. Or is she heading to the Mountain of Crescent first? I suppose her destination would lie someplace about here…”

Bright Midnight wasn’t wrong, and whether it was instinct or her keeping a hoof on new rumors and information, both were valuable traits.

“The former, yes.”

“I think she will enjoy seeing the Valleys, then,” she said, her smile becoming both broader and more sincere. “I just hope she won’t be left to fend for herself. Poor Honored Lord Harvest of Family Dusk might not be the best choice for a tour guide...”

Again, his daughter’s empathy was praiseworthy, at least when kept to a healthy degree. Midnight Eye could, off the top of his head, think of far worse ponies to serve as ‘chaperones’ for the Princess than Dusk Harvest himself… All things considered, the Mountain of Dusk could be the trickiest one on Twilight Sparkle’s journey.

Yet another reason for stress, truth be told. Still, there had to be at least some trust put in the right ponies in this situation and, if Midnight Eye’s own instincts and awareness of the current state of affairs were to be considered—

No. No, he had promised himself a moment to Bright Midnight, for her sake and his own. Surely he could stop himself from constantly disappearing into his thoughts, or was the task he had taken upon himself going to consume him?

“I wouldn’t want my opportunity to spend time with you, daughter, to be sullied by matters I can consider and then manage afterwards,” Midnight Eye stated… but, to his surprise, his daughter responded, not with anger at his distraction or cordial acceptance of his apology, but with a simple flick of her ear and a slight, demure giggle, hidden behind a hoof.

“Not even I can mystically stop you from being a Lord, father,” Bright Midnight told him, clearly meaning it as well. “I’m certain mother would be more than keen to remind you not to waste the time you so carefully allocated towards having a little moment and a pleasant chat with me… but I assure you that I am no longer a small filly. I do understand when my responsible dad needs to carry the burden of our country, and I won’t become all dejected anymore.”

That almost made Midnight Eye laugh, joyful as he was to know that his pride and joy not only meant what she was saying, but could convey it with her usual spice of confidence and wit, softened by her equally usual tastefulness.

“You have grown very much since the time of your tedious tantrums, my daughter,” he reminded her, and she shook her head with another small laugh.

“One certainly finds it helpful to actually see when one wishes to hit their father with a doll or two,” she fought back with the memory of one particularly meaningful fit, “so I had nothing to do but learn that a calm yet keen sentence can be much more accurate and pernicious.”

Midnight Eye was certain of one thing. If everything went wrong and he was forced to answer for his many machinations, to his brethren and, when he died, to the Goddess on high and Her sister… at least, while suffering in the purifying flames, he would have the consolation of knowing that he left Noctraliya with a capable leader, ready, willing, and most able to assure the Midnight Family’s prosperity.

Speaking of which…

“I hope that, even when the unthinkable happens and your father is away, trying to hold the entire country together,” Midnight Eye told her, sipping on his own drink a little, “Midnight Valor is there for you, daughter. His presence and dedication to you keep me rather calm about the future.”

“Fear not, father, he is most diligent, and things between us are almost perfect,” Bright Midnight claimed.

Though that sentence could cause one’s brow to furrow. “What would you mean by ‘almost’, my daughter?”

She giggled again, picking up her chalice and calmly drinking from it before responding, adding a little touch of pacing and stagecraft to her actual response. “We aren’t married yet, of course, and since we are both looking forward to the prospect…”

Midnight Eye shook his head, but it was an expression far removed from exasperation. Quite the opposite, as he viewed certain matters connected to the fact as necessary for the Family’s prosperity.

“I take it from your tone, daughter, that the opportunity to lengthen the bloodline is very much on both of your minds.”

Bright Midnight’s ears flicked a couple of times before she let out a long sigh and a laugh. “Does a blind pony rolling their eyes have the same effect as when one with sight does it, father?”

“You are welcome to check, daughter.”

She did so... and her disadvantage didn’t change much about the gesture.

“I find myself sufficiently ridiculed,” he told her, to her warm amusement.

“Not really what I was aiming at, actually, father. However, if anypony else were to have said that with the serious tone of a concerned leader, I would consider it a touch uncouth, if not derogatory and mocking,” Bright Midnight explained, sipping her juice calmly and regally. “But I know my duty, father, and me shunning away from it is quite unlikely. It actually becomes rather easy to fulfill one’s obligations when one is looking forward to them,” she added as her grin became a bit sly. “Midnight Valor has the right lineage, the right instincts, approach, understanding... You’ve made sure I am receiving the absolute best.”

Midnight Eye felt himself smiling. Despite the affection which had eventually grown between him and Midnight Iris, he wanted his own daughter to be spared the initial challenges which came with an ill-fitting suitor, and he found himself relieved to learn the relationship between her and Midnight Valor had worked itself out quickly.

“Only the best for you,” he told Bright Midnight, gently tapping his hoof on his chalice to signify a toast.

One in which she gladly participated, exhaling with satisfaction afterwards. “It’s the optimal, logical choice, of course... one that is also supported by the genuine love between us, father. So abandon your concerns there, please, I can easily tell their presence in your voice. If anything, I would be more anxious about our Family’s food supply, if the Immaculate Moon... would bless our marriage in such a way.”

That would cause more of an issue of sibling rivalry among his grandfoals, Midnight Eye’s instincts immediately advised him, but he certainly wasn’t going to ruin his daughter’s vision of her relationship. He trusted her to be a guiding, maternal force, with the aid of her betrothed’s natural discipline and focus. He had been most diligent in all his tasks so far, especially imparting the correct regimen to the Mountain’s warrior recruits, so—

Midnight Eye was about to berate himself for vanishing into his thoughts during this time of leisure again... but a knock on the chamber’s door was a much more prominent interruption.

“Sounds like one of your sentinels,” Bright Midnight mused, following her flicking ears.

“Enter,” he called out, trying to stop the irritation from manifesting in his tone and hoping that the reason for this interference was urgent enough to warrant invading the familial moment.

The door opened almost immediately, with one of Midnight Eye’s personal sentinels, Pale Midnight, saluting and standing at attention right behind it.

“Speak,” Midnight Eye ordered him directly, expecting a clear and concise explanation.

Pale Midnight provided it, in a way. “Many pardons, Honored Lord, Honored Count, but two urgent messages have just come through. For your eyes only, Honored Lord.”

“Well, that seems a little self-evident,” Bright Midnight pointed out, finishing her juice with an innocent expression which, in any other circumstances, would cause Pale Midnight to bite his lip in an attempt to stifle a chuckle.

Midnight Eye was not as disposed to join in and simply appreciate his daughter’s wit, however. Such letters meant operative reports, most likely, and if anything could tear him away from spending time with Bright Midnight...

Thank the Goddess, she remained the observant and perceptive wonder that she always was. “Duty calls, father, and worry not about the fact. I understand.” She put the chalice down and stood up with practiced grace, her cerulean gown murmuring gently in the tongue that only the softest of dresses spoke. “It was a joy and a privilege regardless, my Lord and father.”

“Likewise, my daughter,” he replied, enjoying the sincerity in her voice and hoping he could repay her with the same respect and affection. “Have a pleasant morning and day.”

Bright Midnight sent him a smile that could have melted his paternal heart, were it not for the dreadful, cold grip of focus and apprehension already holding it in its clutches.

It wasn’t long before Midnight Eye found himself on his own. A few moments of frantic reading later, he was sitting on the edge of his seat, his jaw tightened, his eyes wide with ire, and his hooves crimping the two messages, as if he wanted to fuse them together, for he wasn’t sure which one was more distressing for him and his plans...

They had been both marked properly, and he had immediately recognized the meanings of the symbols on both of the wax seals. The only question he had faced was one of how grave the news contained within them was, as his instincts had told him he could expect nothing but unsettling revelations within..

Sometimes, he hated being right.

Both letters were taking turns in being worse than the other, back and forth, whether due to the familiar hoofwriting, the style betraying haste, or even an inkblot in one of them, something which would normally have been unacceptable in official reports.

Whatever differences in style there might have been between the letters, the news they brought was all too similar. The situations they described were both dire, though that felt much too eloquent and contained of a description, even for Midnight Eye.

This was bad. This was truly and unmistakably bad. If that mare would—!

... no. No!

“Pale Midnight!” Midnight Eye roared, causing the sentinel to burst in as if he expected his ruler to be under attack.

“Honored Lord?!”

“Parchment and ink! And send somepony to prepare the swiftest of bats! This instant!”

“Yes, Honored Lord!” the sentinel acknowledged both his orders and the resounding displeasure in their words, departing swiftly to see to their execution.

But, before the right orders could be drafted, Midnight Eye needed to determine what they should be, not an easy task as he found his thoughts in utter disarray.

This... This situation could threaten the entire master plan! Worse, it could be a cause for an actual—! 

No, no, nopony truly wanted that, it was to be a distraction, not a true—!

Who, in their right mind, would agree to invite such chaos?! How was this even possible, how was such a thing logical?! Could things not have been dealt with otherwise, without the need to—!

This was a simple operation, bearing the Princess, and her abilities, in mind! Did nopony see what was going to happen, what the reaction was going to be?!

What was she thinking?! She had been reasonable when she wanted to, why didn’t she want to be now?! Matters could be carefully measured, possible drawbacks could be considered and amended with far simpler solutions than—!

If wind would be caught—!

Midnight Eye actually had to sit down for a brief moment as his vision swam, for the first time in ages. He was torn between taking a drink from the nearby pitcher and pouring the whole thing right on his head, his mind feeling like it had caught fire, as if the Judging Sun herself was sending her burning judgment upon him.

Was it… was it his time already?

What... what was that taxing mare trying to prove with this, this… this abomination of an idea?! That she was, by her very nature, better than everypony?! That she was better than even...!

No.

Nopony greater than the Immaculate Moon.

“Have mercy upon us...” Midnight Eye found himself having to utter a prayer to restore his composure, the sheer necessity of doing so sending further shivers down his spine.

He grabbed his cape and held down his circlet as he stormed out of the chamber, ready to find the sunscorched parchment on his own, if only to save himself a few, crucial minutes.

To deliver himself from the frigid grasp of dread, clawing at his heart.