//------------------------------// // Chapter 66 // Story: Rekindled Embers // by applezombi //------------------------------// Chapter 66 Emergency letter, sent from Occluded Lens of the New Canterlot City Astrological and Meteorological Association, to Lady Mockingbird, Knight Jubilant Lady Mockingbird- As a result of our long friendship, my superiors in the New Canterlot City Astrological and Meteorological Association have asked that I write you this urgent note.   I am sure, given all the chaos and terror happening with the heretics up on the mountain that you have your hooves far too full to deal with the problems of a lowly scientist. And yet, something is not right, and I’m hoping that you might spare some insight. As you know, the NCCAMA tracks meteorological data across the Diarchy.  We work closely with the weather service pegasi to provide the most accurate weather charts, rain flow patterns, exact times of sunrise and sunset, that sort of thing. Today the sunrise was forty-two minutes late.  We are normally able to predict the time of sunrise accurately within two minutes of variance.  This was so far outside our margin of error that our entire office was re-checking math and schedules for hours.  We were flooded with messages and ponies demanding to know what had happened.  We’ve been dealing with it all day. Please, if you have any ideas, let me know.  We’re afraid to make any sort of predictions for tomorrow’s sunrise, because we have yet to determine what went wrong in the first place.  For the Saints’ sake, we’ve been using models that have been accurate for the last six hundred years! If there’s anything you can do to help, please let us know. The Skies Over Equestria, 1113 AF It was, perhaps, a foolish choice to take an emergency cross-country trip on muscles that hadn’t existed a few months ago.  But Sunset Shimmer didn’t have time for thorough, rational decision making. Princess Sunset Shimmer, she reminded herself as her wings beat the cold air.  They burned with effort, sore and straining as she pushed herself harder than she’d ever pushed before.  It was even more frustrating to see the four changelings, two pegasi, and one phoenix flying alongside and behind her, moving as if it were effortless. Princesses had to have guards, of course.  But did they have to be so damned athletic?  She didn’t like being shown up, and that inner competitive spark that had burned in her chest since her childhood was annoyed at how easily they were keeping up, even though all but one of them were keeping a respectful distance behind her. Some of it must have shown on her face, because her companion to her left dipped his huge draconic wings to lower himself a bit. “My offer is genuine, Princess.  Climb on and rest.  I will happily carry you for a few miles.  Your wings are brand new, and those spells you’ve been casting can’t be good for your health in the long run.” “Or you could always transform yourself into something that isn’t as good at flying,” Sunset muttered.  The ‘dragon’ laughed, a loud, bass sound that rumbled his whole torso. “I suppose I could at that,” he said.  “But then we’d all be tired.” “Thank you for offering, Oak, but no.”  She didn’t know why Cadance had assigned an older, retired changeling spy to be the captain of her personal guard.  But she didn’t mind.  Even only knowing him for a few hours, she already appreciated his sharp mind and his even sharper wit.  “What sort of image would that create?  A princess that can’t even carry her own weight.” “Pardon me for saying, Princess, but you’re thinking about this all wrong,” Oak said.  “It’s not about whether or not you can carry your weight.  It’s all about appearances.  When you arrive at the camp, flying on your own power, it will be impressive.  Even more so if you don’t even appear winded.  Who needs to know that you perhaps didn’t come the whole way on your own?  Your guards certainly won’t say.  “Oh good, my first official act as a princess is to lie,” Sunset called back.  She was beginning to breathe hard; it was almost time to cast another enervation spell. “No, princess.  Not a lie.  Optics.  A sacrifice, to give your ponies what they need to see right now.” That stung.  It also was very strange to hear them referred to as ‘her ponies’.  Ponies she had never met before, now looking to Sunset Shimmer for leadership.  Ponies like Rarity, Twilight Sparkle’s friend.  And Heartwing, who she had heard was somehow Discord, but somehow not.  She had so many questions for both when she met them. But Oak Chips was right.  So she dipped her wings, shivering as she passed through another tuft of icy cloud, and tried to land gently and gracefully on the broad, scaly back.  Philomena kept pace, but she didn’t land, instead flying at her side. Was that a smug look the phoenix gave her? “Thank you, princess,” Oak said.  Sunset almost snarked back at him, especially when her weight made very little change to the pattern of his wingbeats.  He wasn’t even a very big dragon in this form!  It wasn’t fair that this was all so easy for him. “No, thank you.”  She could be polite, but some of her iciness probably slipped through, because she felt him laugh again. “You’re doing the right thing.  Lay down and nap.  I’ll alert you when we’re getting close to the mountain, and you can fly the rest of the way.” “I’m not going to sleep, Oak.  We only have so much time, and I still need to know the rest of the situation.  Tell me what we know about the opposition.  I want to hear about the pony that leads the Knights Mystic.” “You met Princess Flurry’s student?  The unicorn, not the foal.” “Lightning Bug, right?”  She had reminded Sunset of herself.  Ambitious, sometimes fiery, and way too world-weary for her age. “It’s her father.  We know he killed her mother because she tried to hide Lightning from him.  That’s how dedicated he is.  We also know he’s the puppetmaster type.  He likes to control and influence other ponies by befriending them and earning favors.  He’s a power broker and he’s good at reading ponies and predicting their responses.  He’s also not above murder in order to accomplish his goals; we suspect he is behind the deaths of at least two of his superiors, though we can’t prove it. “He was the one who manipulated the Diarchy ambassador into trying to assassinate Princess Flurry and Empress Cadance,” Oak said.  “The ambassador bore a poisoned dagger, something that was supposed to work only on alicorns.  The fact that Steadfast Word has developed a way to murder alicorns…” she felt a shudder buzz through his entire body.  “He needs to be stopped, Princess.” “I’m on it,” Sunset said.  She meant it, too.  Sunset had seen enough in the last few weeks (well, last few weeks for her; time travel was confusing) that she’d probably be making therapists rich for years, but one thing that would probably always haunt her was the look on Cadance’s face.  It was the first thing Sunset had seen when she’d woken up. There was a time when she might have been overjoyed to see Cadance hurting.  Not any longer. “Tell me what we know about the Diarchy forces?  Where are they concentrated, how quickly can they  mobilize, that sort of thing.”  She had to be caught up to speed if she was going to lead these ponies immediately after Flurry Heart’s tragic death. It was a testament to how far Sunset had come in her life that she could mourn for a pony she’d never even met.  At least there was always the Path.  I’ll find you there, Flurry.  I hope we can be friends.  I hope I’ll do you proud. It wasn’t much of a prayer, and Sunset shivered again at the cold wind.  Now that she wasn’t flying herself, her sweat was chilling on her fur, and she was beginning to freeze.  She should have brought a blanket, or something.  The image made her laugh a little.  Again, though, her reactions hadn’t gone unnoticed.  Her captain of the guard was quite good at reading ponies, it seemed.  “Right saddlebag, second pocket, princess,” he said.  Sunset carefully opened the dragon-sized bag in question, pulling out a large, thick wool cloak.  With some difficulty because of the rushing wind, she managed to levitate the cloak around herself, pulling it tight around her body.  “Crouch down as much as you can, too.  That’ll reduce the drag and help with the wind.  I’d change into something more warm-blooded, but then we’d lose the flying efficiency.” “You’re f-fine, I’ll m-m-manage.” Sunset realized, with some embarrassment, that her teeth were chattering.  She cast a quick spell to heat up the cloak, and immediately sighed as the warmth spread through her back. “If you were anything but a pegasus or alicorn, you’d be catatonic with hypothermia by now,” he said.  “It’s that pegasus blood in you, princess.  Good thing.” “N-now I just have to try to not fall asleep.  Go on, keep talking.” It was harder than Sunset thought; the warmth of the blanket was enough to make her realize just how drowsy she was.  As she listened to Oak Chips talk about troop and army placements, airship and locomotive logistics, she had to fight to keep her eyes open.  She found herself dreaming, longingly, of a double shot of espresso in her favorite white mocha from Sugar Cube Corner. It probably wasn’t the best time to think of Pinkie.  Or any of the others.  Meeting another Rarity, not her Rarity, would likely be difficult, too.  But as her mind drifted, lulled to sleep by Oak Chips’ calm voice and the rushing of the wind as they flew, she couldn’t help but take the thought of them along to her dreams. *   *   *   *   * Sunset was human again, sitting on a swing at a foal’s (no, not foal’s, children’s) playground.  She recognized it as the playground for Canterlot Elementary, only a few blocks from the High School.  She’d spent a bit of time there; at first, mentoring younger students who were struggling to learn to read fulfilled the hours of community service she’d agreed to in lieu of paying to repair the façade of Canterlot High (something vastly outside her price range).  It didn’t take long before she was enjoying the volunteer work for its own sake. The playground, however, usually so full with the happy clamor of children, was still and empty. “Pinkie?” Sunset called out.  There was no answer.  “Applejack?  Rarity?  Rainbow?”  Each name was another knife of pain, but she couldn’t stop.  “Fluttershy?  Twilight?”  Nobody came. She kicked off with her feet, listening to the gentle squeak of the swing chains above her and the scuff of her black sneakers in the dirt below.  She wasn’t quite short enough to swing comfortably, but she was too lazy to lift her feet and really get going.  So she idly swung, back and forth, listening to the sounds of nothing. Nobody. Nopony. “Girls?  Seriously, is nobody there?” Silence, except for the squeak. Screech-squeak-scuff, as she swung forward, then back. Screech-squeak-scuff, as she watched the elementary school building.  Any moment now, Pinkie would come out asking for her to come to the cafeteria to help serve snacks.  Or her phone would buzz with a message from Rarity, updating her on last night’s date.  Or she’d hear the tell-tale sounds of a basketball striking pavement and a groan of disappointment from Rainbow as the ball bounced off the rim.  Screech-squeak-scuff.  Any second now. Screech-squeak-scuff. Sunset reached for her phone, leaning to the side in the too-small swing to pull it out of her front pocket.  She tapped the screen to turn it on.  Maybe there was a message waiting for her. Screech-squeak-scuff. Nothing.  The screen was blank; black and lifeless.  She hit the on button on the side of the phone.  It beeped, but the screen didn’t light up.  Still nothing. “Damn thing.  Didn’t I remember to charge you last night?” Last night.  Huh.  Her charger was next to her bed, in the loft in her apartment.  Hadn’t she… Screech-squeak-scuff. When had she charged her phone last?  With a shrug, she put it away, next to the keys to her motorcycle… Wait. Her keys were missing.  Maybe in her other pocket?  She patted her jeans, looking for her keys. Screech-squeak-scuff. They weren’t there, either.  Oh well, she could fly when it came time to get home.  She flared her wings wide, lifting herself from the swing and down to earth on all four hooves.  Wait. Hooves? The swing still moved back and forth from the momentum of her dismount.  Screech-squeak.  But it was so much taller now.  She was a pony again?  When had that happened? Wait. Wings? A cold shiver of terror crawled down her spine.  Wings.  She had wings. “Wait, I’m not supposed to…” The school bell sounded.  Only, something was off.  It wasn’t the normal buzz that announced the end of recess for the children; rather it was a single, jarring chime.  It vibrated the air around her. Sunset. The bell rang again, and Sunset jumped into the air, wings flapping. Sunset! Her fear became a wind, spinning around her and making her shake with cold.  Every limb was stiff and sore.  Hoarfrost grew along her feathers.  Sunset looked up; the wind was blowing aside the clouds, the sky, even the sun, stealing all the joy and warmth, leaving only empty, silent, cold shivers. Sunset! The bell rang again, and for a moment the sky seemed to split, leaving behind a silvery thread of light.  The moon and stars tried to peek through the blackness.  The wind howled and raged, but the stars and the moon glowed with their own warmth.  Hold onto the sun, Sunset! The bell rang one last time, and Sunset reached, yanking the sun back into the sky as the wind screamed its icy fury all about her. Hold on, Sunset!  And come find us when you are ready! *   *   *   *   * It was the sudden loss of momentum that jerked Sunset awake with a yelp.  Blinking, she looked around herself.  It was still daylight, though the sun had moved several hours worth.  Late afternoon, by Sunset’s guess.  Underneath her, Oak Chips was silent.  Philomena no longer flew, but instead had curled up elegantly at her hooves, in a fold of the blanket. “I thought I told you I didn’t want to sleep,” she called out loudly. Philomena stirred and crooned softly. “Sorry, Princess.  My mistake.  But at least this way you’ll be well rested when we land.” Sunset narrowed her eyes.  Wasn’t she supposed to be the princess?  And her captain was already ‘managing’ her like a doting dad.  She decided to let it pass for now. “How much longer until we reach the mountain?” “See for yourself, Princess,” Oak said.  Sunset lifted her eyes, looking ahead to the south.  She could indeed spy the needle-like peak of the Canterhorn, oddly still familiar even a millennia later.  There would only be a couple more hours before they landed. There was a moment of panic at the realization.  Sunset wasn’t ready.  She hadn’t had enough time to prepare.  She still didn’t know everything there was to know about troop placement, her available assets, logistical, physical, and living, or even the current strategic situation.  She’d slept through it all! Panic is natural.  The words, spoken in Celestia’s voice, brought her spinning thoughts up short.  It was something Celestia had taught her, back when she’d been the Princess’ unicorn student.  Panic isn’t cowardice, and it’s not weakness.  But giving in to panic can lead to errors and regrets.  So you allow yourself to feel it, and then you work through it. “You’re prepared for this, Princess.  Or so I’ve heard.  The Empress herself told me that you were the personal student of two princesses, before you earned your own ascension.  You fought a rebellion that frighted the Diarchy so badly that they still tell horror stories about you to this day.  You’re an inspiration to thousands.  Even while you were sleeping off your transformation in the palace infirmary, the ponies and other creatures in the streets were celebrating your arrival.  We already love and support you, and we trust you.” It was like he knew her thoughts.  Something rubbed against her cheek; Philomena was offering comfort too, with an affectionate nuzzle.  She gently stroked the phoenix with one wing-tip. “That level of trust’s supposed to help?” Sunset sighed.  But oddly enough, it did.  She had been trained for this by Celestia, even if her life had taken a few detours along the way.  And she’d studied friendship under Twilight Sparkle, if you could count an interdimensional correspondence course.  She had prepared to lead.  And she’d do her best.  Not because she wanted to, but because of what might happen if she didn’t.  Something about his last sentence, however, stuck in Sunset’s head.  “Tell me, Oak.  How do you feel about me?” Oak Chips was quiet for a very long time, before sighing.  “Did the Empress explain why I am the captain of your guard?” “She said you volunteered.  That you came out of retirement just for this.  She also said you had a brilliant mind, and you would be one of the best for helping me get up to speed in the modern world.” “That’s gracious of her.  I’ll do my best.  But did she say why I volunteered?” “No.  I assumed it was personal.”  Sunset hadn’t wanted to pry. “It is.  Family, even.  I feel a certain responsibility for your life and your safety, princess.  Because it was my nephew who went back in time to bring you here.” Sunset was speechless.  Wordlessly she lowered her head, nuzzling against the body of the flying dragon beneath her. “His name was Escher,” Oak said.  “And he died to bring you to us.  And I’ve thought about this a lot, Princess, but please know this.  He was right.  And it hurts, but if he were here now, instead of me?  If I had gone back to get you?  He’d be right here where I am, flying you south.  So if I’m going to honor who he was, then I’m going to stand by your side and make sure you have everything you need.  Every ounce of support, every drop of loyalty, every inch of devotion.  Because it’s what Escher would do.” “Thank you,” she called out.  There was nothing else to say.  She blinked at tears shed for a changeling she’d never truly met. The silence that followed, however, proved to be a little much for Sunset.  So she retrieved one of the other objects from Oak’s saddlebags. “Will it make too much drag if I cast a bit of an air shield over myself?  I’ll try to make it aerodynamic.” “Try, and we’ll see,” Oak called back.  “Just don’t tire yourself out.” “This could be important.”  She cast her shield spell, and felt Oak beat his wings.  Suddenly the wind around her dropped to nothing; the cloak stopped flapping around her, and the cold cut down dramatically.  She couldn’t help but sigh with relief.  “That’s fine,” he called back.  “Just don’t get too comfortable.  I don’t want to be yelled at again for letting you fall asleep, princess.” “Yes, sir!” Sunset mock-saluted at him with one hoof and felt him rumble under her hooves with a laugh. Now that the wind shear was down to nearly nothing, she opened the book she’d retrieved from the bags.  At least she didn’t have to worry about the journal pages being torn or jerked about by the wind.  It wouldn’t take her long to skim through the most important bits. “Thanks for packing this book for me,” she called out. “The Empress mentioned you were a scholar, from what she could remember,” Oak called back.  “What kind of book is it?” “It’s actually a series of reports from a changeling named Fata, sent to Queen Chrysalis the Second.” “Old Fata Morgana?  I read about her in school as a nymph,” Oak said. “She was one of the first of your kind to make any significant progress on unraveling Knighthood.  I’m just trying to fill in some of the holes of my understanding.” “Anything in particular?” “Yeah.  I wanna know about that foul potion they make.  I know what they use to make it, but it’s bugging me.  Unicorn horn as a potion catalyst for permanent power transfer?  There’s gotta be a more efficient way to make that work.” “The Discordant have another method, when they can’t use donor horns.  Something about channeling unicorn magic into the potion for weeks.” “Yeah,” Sunset flinched.  “That’s inefficient, too.” “Sorry.  If there’s time, you’ll be able to ask Heartwing himself when we arrive.” There was little chance of that.  Sunset was sure things would be quite busy.  But she read on anyways. The sun continued to inch across the sky, and as Sunset concentrated on the notes in the book at her hooves, she could feel its presence.  Warm, loving, proud; it was like a little piece of Celestia in the back of her mind.  At the same time, though, it felt massive.  She’d tried not to think about all that power, all that magic and potential.  She supposed she’d have to get used to the sensation of having it at her beck and call. No, that was wrong.  Not it.  Her. It seemed right that the sun itself would feel so much like the pony who guided it for centuries. “I will do you proud,” she whispered.  “I’ll earn the trust you placed in me.” Philomena crooned proudly at her hooves.  If Oak Chips heard her, he said nothing. *   *   *   *   * “Now is the time to dismount, princess.”  Oak’s voice broke Sunset from her concentration.  She looked up.  The sun was almost set, and the mountain was nearly upon them.  On the other side of the Canterhorn, she could see the distant trappings of civilization; far off buildings and streets, just starting to show the signs of evening as the street lamps twinkled in the fading light.  With a start, Sunset checked the state of the sun.  It wasn’t almost set, it was waiting, perched and ready for her command.  If she willed it, it would sit still in the sky, always at the ready and never quite setting. So much power… Sunset’s chest heaved, moving quickly in and out in time with her heavy breaths.  If she’d had all this earlier, if she’d felt this before… Before. Before the portal.  Before the crown.  Before the pit and her fall. The cold she felt then was deeper than any frost the wind could bring.  She let out a hateful little shudder, then lit her horn, reaching out and pulling at that terrifying, exhilarating weight.  The light faded as the sun sunk beyond the horizon in the west, until it was nothing more than a warm glow of memory, waiting for the next morning’s sunrise. “I get it now, Princess.  I’m sorry.” At least she’d had a chance to reconcile with Celestia before the end.  And now… She felt the call of the Path.  It would always be there now, just like the sun itself. In the light of Sunset’s horn she packed away the book and the cloak, before spreading her wings.  They were a little stiff, but she flapped them a few times until she was confident she could fly alongside her guards.  Then, she dropped her shield, immediately flinching as she was suddenly buffeted by the wind. With her wings spread it was hard enough to jerk Sunset off of Oak’s back and into the air.  He spun his head around in alarm, only to smirk at Sunset’s embarrassed look as she beat her wings to make her own lift. “Hey,’ she scowled.  “I haven’t had these wings long.  I’m not gonna be super graceful right away, okay?” “I didn’t say anything, princess.” Oak said.  “Now, let’s…” “Sir!” one of the other guards, a pegasus mare whose name Sunset hadn’t had time to learn, pointed.  Everycreature turned and looked, and with a snap of their wings, the guards moved in a tight circle around Sunset, pulling spears from sheaths.  Oak Chips took point position, in the front and slightly to the side so Sunset could still see what was happening. Another dragon was approaching fast.  And this one was massive.  Easily larger than any dragon Sunset had ever seen, outside of books. “Who approaches?” the dragon roared.  In the dim light Sunset could see orange scales and a purple row of spikes.  “I don’t recognize you, fledgling.” Sunset stared.  She hadn’t expected to find a real dragon. “I beg your pardon, ma’am,” Oak’s voice was confident but respectful.  “I am a changeling. I didn’t mean to insult you by taking draconic form.  We are the honor guard for Princess Sunset Shimmer, come seeking the joined forces of the Empire here so that she can assume command.  Who are you?” “I’m called Smolder.” Oak’s voice didn’t change, but Sunset Shimmer saw his spine stiffen at the name.  She would have to ask him about it later.  “Very well, Smolder.  Can you please escort us to Heartwing?” “Never heard of a Sunset Shimmer,” the dragon said, though she pulled up short, hovering in the air as the guards raised shields, as if preparing for the worst.  “And Heartwing is gone.” “Well, I’ve never heard of you,” Sunset called back.  Something about the dragon’s rudeness rubbed her fur the wrong way.  Sure, the massive creature could probably swallow her without even noticing, but she was Sunset Shimmer.  “And we’re wasting time.  Maybe you haven’t heard of me, but I’m sure you’re smart enough to know what an alicorn is.” Probably not the best plan to insult the dragon, but Sunset was a little peeved.  But to her surprise, the dragon laughed; a big, booming belly laugh. “Oh, I like you, little princess.  An alicorn with a spine.  Very fun.  Follow me, I’ll escort you lot in and announce you.  The camp’s pretty tense right now, so it’ll help you not get fired on.”  Without waiting for their decision, Smolder turned and began flying down towards the mountain. Sunset shared a long look with Oak, who finally nodded carefully.  Her assorted pegasi and changeling guards kept tight around her as they spiraled downwards towards the grey ruin stuck to the side of the Canterhorn. “It’s been quiet since the attack,” Smolder said.  “We’ve been lucky.”  She sounded bitter.  “How bad was it?” Sunset called out loud enough so their escort could hear.  Smolder snorted.  “An alicorn was murdered, Sunset Shimmer.  And I was too late to stop it. How bad do you think it was?” Sunset flinched.  She remembered the look in Cadance’s eyes, before she left.  She wished she’d had more time to comfort the haggard mare before she’d had to leave, but the camp here needed her guidance and direction. “What’s left?  Who’s in command?  Why is Heartwing gone?” “Heartwing and the other Elements went to go hunt for Rarity.  She got taken in the raid that killed the Princess.”  Smolder said with a sort of bluntness.  Sunset kept a cold mask on her face, even while her heart pounded.  Rarity captured?  Heartwing gone? “And then, I arrived with Sir Cobalt, Heartwing’s second in command.  He was wounded in a skirmish before we arrived,” Smolder continued.  “He’s been doing his best to issue orders from his bed, but most of the operation of your forces has been left to me, the quartermaster Colibri, and the chief medic Life Flight.” “I thought Sir Heartwing had some of his own Knights with him.  Military personnel, too.  Why are those two leading with you?” “Most of the Knights who could move mustered with Lady Snowfall Shiver to go try and find Sir Heartwing.  His departure was… abrupt.  Wild magic, some new kind of teleportation was involved.  Even the ponies who saw it don’t know exactly what happened.” Sunset took this in for a moment. “The ones in charge. They’re competent?” Sunset asked. Smolder nodded.  “You’ll meet them and judge for yourself soon enough.” They followed the dragon down towards the top of the peak, where a familiar looking city still clung to the side.  It was a little different seeing it from the air, though Sunset had taken flying chariot rides with Princess Celestia before.  In the darkness, she could see a few lights down in the courtyard of the palace below. The crumbling, broken spires of her old home tugged at Sunset’s heart.  In her mind, it had only been a few short years.  Here, it had been over a thousand.  The old city didn’t bear the age well at all.  The palace itself, at least, was in good repair, though nothing like Sunset remembered.  The beautiful gardens of the past had been replaced with a complex of smaller buildings.  From this distance, Sunset could see a hundred or so soldiers; ponies and other creatures moving about the complex, patrolling, drilling, moving supplies. There was a blank spot in the middle of one of the fields, with a large circle burned into the grass.  Sunset could see a number of craters in the field; remnants of some kind of artillery.  “That’s our makeshift landing zone,” Smolder called out.  It was a relief to be standing on the ground again.  Sunset resisted the urge to flop down where she landed.  Several ponies were already moving towards them; armed soldiers, a few wounded Knights in yellow armor, as well as three ponies dressed in medic white. “New arrivals, Miss Flight.  They’re from the Empire.” The head medic was a pegasus, with a white mane and yellow fur.  She blinked in shock a few times at Sunset, taking in the wings and the horn, before managing to hide it behind a professional expression. “I can see that,” the pegasus medic said.  “Wounded?” “No, I’m fine,” Sunset said, ignoring the muscle aches in her wings.  “I just need to talk to the griffon and ponies in charge.  As soon as possible.” “I suppose I count as one of those,” Life said with a flinch.  “C’mon, I’ll take you to the tent.” “I will resume my watch,” Smolder said.  “Call on me if you need me, Shimmer.  And keep me informed of your plans. I’ll be here.” Sunset nodded gratefully as the dragon took to the skies.  Beside her, Oak Chips flashed with green fire, replaced by the much smaller form of a changeling.  He took his place by her side, and the other guards formed a loose circle around her. “Look at them,” one of the pegasi whispered, her voice raw with sympathy and pain.  “I can’t imagine…” “Focus on the job, Kinderarzt,” Oak barked out, and the pegasi in question snapped to attention, focusing her eyes ahead of them.  Sunset sympathized, though.  All around them were people who looked hopeless, dejected, broken. Defeated. This was why she was here. “Everybody,” she began loudly.  Her guards stopped, looking at her curiously. Very few heads poked up; some looked curious, while most were simply weary. She had no idea what she was going to say next.  But she lit her horn, feeling the tingle in her throat as the projection spell took hold. “Everybody,” she said again.  “I know that you’re all hurting.”  It felt like a weak start, but more faces lifted up.  More eyes.  Eyes full of fear, of worry, of cold and hunger and sorrow.  “I can’t imagine how much.  You loved Princess Flurry.  And I know she loved you.” She felt the call of the Path, the threads of eternity, tickling at the back of her soul. “Princess Flurry has passed.  And the world is lessened by her loss.  We mourn her.  I have come having spoken with the Empress, and I can assure you personally…” her voice hitched, and she wiped at tears in her eyes.  She cleared her throat.  “I can assure you personally,” she continued, when she could, “that she weeps for your losses, and she weeps for the loss of her daughter.  She cares for you all.  She cries for every one of you that has been hurt, that died, in the service of Harmony.” Sunset paused, even as more ponies stopped what they were doing to turn her way. “This ground is sacred, hallowed by the blood that you all have spilled.  History will remember the names of those that fell alongside the Princess.  History will remember their hope and their sacrifice.  And yours.” She bowed her head, even as she spread her wings.  “Thank you.” There was silence.  Sunset hadn’t expected much more. “You may be wondering who I am.  My name is Sunset Shimmer.  And you deserve to know who I am and why I am here. “I am an alicorn, like the Empress, and Princess Flurry.  Like your Empress, I earned my ascension.  I was a student of Celestia herself, then Twilight Sparkle, and I became an alicorn by pulling myself through time in order to come here, today.  For you.” It was a heavily edited version of what had happened, and she hated the brevity of it.  But it was what they needed to know now.  “You may be wondering who will assume Princess Flurry’s duties.  I have taken command of the sun.  Empress Cadance now commands the moon, as she is no longer required to maintain the shield that once bound you all to the Empire.  And I have also come to assume command of the imperial forces here.  I do so at Empress Cadance’s orders. “I know that you’re in pain.  I will not ask more of you than you can give.  All I can say is this; please continue to fulfill your duties with the same excellence, the same faithfulness, that you showed Princess Flurry.  Our purpose here has not changed, and we will honor her sacrifice by finishing the job we came here to do.” There were a few nods from the watching ponies. “Thank you.  Please save your energy for now, because I sense difficult times ahead.  I know you’ll be excellent.” Sunset bowed again.  She felt like she was a fraud, or an actor.  She’d barely gotten her wings; they still didn’t quite feel real.  Subconsciously she fluttered them a little. “Thank you for all you do.  The Empire loves you, and the Empire needs you.” She nodded, and turned back towards the medic, Life Flight.  She was waiting patiently, and as Sunset turned her way she bowed. “This way, Princess,” she said.  Somehow, the medic sounded much less tired than she had a moment ago.  There was more life in her eyes, at least. The tent was constructed right outside of a two-story building, with wide-open doors.  Ponies were moving back and forth between the building and the tent; mostly white-armored and white robed Knights. Sunset recognized the armor.  Knight Radiant.  She pulled up short, and her guard tightened around her. “Princess, wait,” Life Flight said.  “Everything is fine.  They’re… they’re not here to do harm.” “Explain,” Sunset said.  She felt anger growing in her.  It was unusual; ever since she’d woken up, everything was enhanced.  Her anger, her joy, her passion… it all seemed to blaze forth with the intensity of the sun. Cadance had warned her, in their brief time together. To be an alicorn is to be exposed.  Like a nerve, without the protective layer of flesh and fur.  Everything is stronger.  Every emotion, every sensation.  It has been so long for me that I may have forgotten what it felt like before, but I remember getting lost in the intensity of it all.  Hold on to your control, Sunset.  You know what happens when an alicorn lets go. Sunset knew about Nightmare Moon.  And she already knew how much of a disaster she was when she was lost in her own emotion, ambition, and drive. But even knowing all that, it was still a struggle to shove aside the rage she felt towards the white-armored ponies here. “The Knights Radiant have chosen to be neutral in the conflict, and offer their healing to everypony,” Life said.  Her voice held admiration, and Sunset stared at her.  Was she really that naïve?  “Not only that, but they’ve reformed the Knights Angelic. Together they asked Princess Flurry and Sir Heartwing for permission to be here, to heal the wounded of both sides.  So far they’ve kept to their word.” Sunset had no idea who the Knights Angelic were supposed to be, but she nodded anyways. “They are not a threat?” “I… have friends among them,” Life admitted.  “From before I defected, highness.  I don’t know about trusting the organizations, but I trust the individuals.” Sunset stared at the mare for several seconds.  She remembered the way Celestia had always seemed to be able to read a pony’s entire history in a single penetrating glance.  She’d always been able to read Sunset, at least.  But there was no supernatural knowledge, no secret alicorn wi-fi link-up to a cloud of information about everypony in the world. Just her own instincts.  And years of experience under first Celestia, then Twilight.  That, and a high schooler’s instinctual navigation of social circles, cliques, and personalities. She made an impulse decision. “They can stay,” she said, and saw every muscle in Life Flight’s body relax.  “I’ll honor Princess Flurry’s decision to allow them here, as long as they keep their end of the deal.  I’ll need to talk to one of their leaders, though.” “That would be Lady Ambrosia of the Radiant.  And either Sir Feather or Sir Dustoff of the Angelic,” Life said.  “I can take you to them if you like.” “After I talk to Sir Cobalt.”  There was an order to these things.  One problem at a time, and she needed to know the tactical situation first.  She felt like she was floundering, centuries behind everypony else as events careened out of her control. “Of course, highness.” Sunset nodded regally, trying to mimic the expression of cool collectedness that she’d seen on Celestia a thousand times.  Like a rock in the ocean, weathering a thousand waves beating against it, and remaining strong.  Was this always what you were like inside, Celestia? She thought silently.  Totally lost, and just presenting a strong face to the world? Celestia, of course, was silent.  But she felt the warmth of the evening sun on her face. It was enough.  She stepped inside the tent. For some reason, Sunset had expected it to be loud.  There was a low hum of activity as Radiants and other healers moved around, a few cries of discomfort or quiet murmurs, but there was little chaos.  There was something both peaceful and somber about the room, a sort of reverence that helped to calm the roil in Sunset’s heart. “How was Sir Cobalt wounded?” Sunset asked as they wove between the rows of bandaged, resting soldiers and Knights. “Sir Cobalt had taken most of the aerial Discordant forces to the heartlands of Equestria to fight a guerrilla war and draw Adamant eyes that way,” Life explained.  “They met up with the d-dragons there, and followed them to the mountain.  I heard on the way they encountered a squadron of Adamant warships and scuttled them.  Sir Cobalt took some bullets in that fight.  I heard  that Smolder personally flew him back.”  There was wonder in Life’s voice as she spoke, and more than a little fear. “I see.”  Her memory went back to another conflict, another war, another set of wounded.  The names and images of her failed rebellion, centuries ago, still filled her mind.  She forced herself to look at the faces of each of the wounded as she passed. This is the burden of rule.  This is what Celestia had tried to teach her, before she threw it away and fled. This is the mantle she’d wanted to take before she was ready. “Thank you, Celestia.  For holding me back.  And then letting me grow.” It was a whisper, barely voiced, and her guard said nothing, though she saw Oak’s ears twitch. Cobalt was sitting up in bed when Sunset and her guards arrived. His black feathers made the white bandages that covered much of his body stand out in sharp contrast. He was deep in conversation with a blue-green pegasus mare wearing civilian clothing.  The mare looked up as Sunset approached, her eyes widening.  Cobalt’s beak flew open. The pegasus bowed. “P-princess?” she asked, the question obvious in her tone. “This is Princess Sunset Shimmer,” Life introduced.  “Here to take command, after…” she clenched her eyes shut. “After Princess Flurry’s passing,” Cobalt said.  “Yes.  Heartwing informed us of your ascension by letter, highness.  We were not sure if you would be joining us.  I understand you were in a coma when he left.” “I practically died on my way here,” Sunset said.  “I barely survived my own ascension.  It should have been much easier, but the journey was… trying, to say the least.  Certainly more so than Cadance or Twilight’s.”  She watched the griffon carefully, hoping there would be a seamless transfer of power.  There was always a chance that he would be the type to jealously guard his control. “We are glad for your presence, highness,” Cobalt said with an awkward bow, and something taut inside Sunset relaxed.  “How up to date are you on our situation here?” “Not nearly enough,” Sunset said.  “Get me up to speed.” *   *   *   *   * Sunset’s head swam. She’d thought that Princess Flurry’s death was the biggest issue she would have to deal with.  A morale problem, stemming from the death of an immortal. A near-insurmountable challenge, but one she was willing to approach. But there was so much more.  Rarity’s kidnapping.  The disappearance of the Elements of Harmony.  Lady Snowfall taking most of their forces into the city itself in an attempt to find the Elements, to find Rarity, and bring them to safety. On top of that, Cobalt had left most of his forces to continue creating a distraction in the Diarchy’s breadbasket.  So besides the dragons that Smolder had brought, there were very few soldiers here for Sunset to draw upon.  And what resources she did have were wounded and weary. Throughout Cobalt’s recitation, Philomena was a constant presence, resting gently on her shoulder.  It helped to ground her in the moment; the gentle weight of the bird felt like Celestia was there at her side, watching. Approving. Always. The Path reached for her.  She ignored the call; there was too much to do right now for her to commune with eternity. “The situation is not ideal,” she said, and Cobalt gave a grim scoff at her understatement.  “Any resources you haven’t mentioned?” “Every ally we could draw on is miles away,” Cobalt admitted.  “King Grover and his forces have massed at the griffon border and are making a lot of noise, but not getting very far.  The zebras have taken an entire Equestrian settlement and claimed it as their own to the east, some little town called Sweethaven on the Hudcolt river, over by the ruins of Manehattan, but they look like they’re digging in for a long-term occupation rather than a mobile conquest.  They’re still good distractions, and they drew good chunks of the armed forces out to the edges of Equestria so we don’t have Adamants raining down death on us, but they’re probably reassessing and realigning their forces to deal with us very soon.” “So we comfort ourselves with the philosophical support from our allies, even as they are busy with their own problems?” Sunset asked sardonically, and Cobalt nodded.  “Right.  Well, it’ll be an issue for tomorrow, when today’s problems are solved.  But we’re gonna find a way to help them, too.” If only today’s problems were so easy. “Very well.  If you had to give me a number, Sir Cobalt, how many able-bodied Knights do you think we have available?” “Able-bodied is the trick, isn’t it?” Cobalt frowned.  “Everypony who’s left here is wounded.  Snow took just about everyone with her who wasn’t.  We’re relying on the dragons to keep us safe from attack while Snow finds the Elements.” More bad news.  She remembered the first time she’d seen Knights in action.  She remembered how hopeless she’d felt as her unicorns and their allies were mowed down by the earliest incarnation.  Having a force of those at her command would have been nice, but this Lady Snow had moved before she could arrive and take command. Another problem for tomorrow. “What about material supplies?  Weapons, armor, food.  Whatever makes your rune gauntlets work?” “Batteries,” Life offered helpfully.  “They’re running low.” “Food supplies are fine.”  The quartermaster, Colibri, chimed in.  “Weapons as well.  We have an entire stash of unpainted Knight armor; this is where the young knights come to finish their training, after all.  We can put that to good use.  Oh!  And there’s one more thing.” She flinched, pain evident on her muzzle, and glanced away. “What?” Sunset said sharply. There was silence for a while. “Show her,” Cobalt said, suddenly enough that Colibri flinched.  “It’s her responsibility now, with Heartwing gone and Princess Flurry dead.  She needs to know.” Sunset was curious, but accompanying this came a sense of dread. “I-I’ve stored them over here, with the rest of the medical supplies,” Colibri said.  “They’re locked up.  I didn’t know what else to do with them.  Heartwing didn’t have time to make a decision.” “You can cut through the mysterious bullcrap,” Sunset said, slashing the air with a hoof.  “What are you talking about?” Colibri paled, and ducked her head.  “Um.  This way, Princess.” The medical supplies weren’t far away.  There were stacks of crates repurposed as shelves and desks, and the supplies were well-organized and sorted.  Colibri reached for a small case, padlocked shut.  She fished a key out of her pockets. Her hoof was shaking as she opened the case. “We have a hundred and eight of these,” she said, voice weak as she held it out to Sunset.  Sunset peered into the case. Row upon row of stoppered glass vials were arranged in slots inside the case.  Inside each was a glittery black potion, the color of velvet. “What are they?” she asked. “The potion that creates Knights.  Crafted from…” “Unicorn horns,” Sunset finished.  “I know.”  She lit her horn. The spell was an elementary one, an early lesson in magical analysis of artifacts and spells.  Every student of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns could cast it.  And one second was all she needed to confirm the alchemy’s vile source. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Colibri, it was that Sunset needed to see for herself.  One hundred and eight souls.  Ponies that would never get to live, because their destinies had been cut short by cruelty and ignorance. Sunset felt a blaze of anger again, like a flare of sun-fire.  It would be a simple thing to call down the righteous, cleansing fury of the Sun Herself on this blasphemy and boil it to ash. And yet. And yet she needed resources. And here was a resource, offered on a silver platter.  Or in this case, in a sectioned wooden case. Sunset closed her eyes, breathing slowly through her nose, exhaling through her mouth.  Three breaths. In her ear, Philomena crooned. She opened her eyes and glanced at the phoenix.  Philomena’s expression was sympathetic.  Together, the two of them looked at the damnable potions. “What would she do, Philomena?  If she were in my hooves?” Nopony answered the question out loud.  But the rhetorical question was in her head now, turning over and over. What would Celestia do? Was it an issue of strength?  Would she have been strong enough to say yes, to use this resource?  To say no, condemn the foul work?  Which option was the coward’s path? Could she even ask the question?  Had Celestia ever been in a comparable position? If she did use them, what would she use them for?  A tool was useless without a plan. Maybe that was the first step. “Come with me,” she said to her entourage, picking up the case with her magic and closing it.  The latch engaged, but she left the padlock on the makeshift crate table.  Together, the ponies moved back to Cobalt. “I need your advice.  You have more experience as a military leader than I do.  How can I best help Heartwing and the Elements?  Because this is their battle.  We’re just… just the side story today.” Cobalt stared at her for a while. “Heartwing’s presence here was always temporary.  We never came for conquest, or to reclaim this space.  Our objective was always to make an ingress into New Canterlot City, to find the Element of Magic and reunite all the Elements.  To vanquish this unnatural winter with whatever power they have.” “And then?” “I don’t know,” Cobalt shrugged, and winced as his bandages shifted.  “You know what background Heartwing came from.  He was never much of a long-term planner.  He tends to rely on impulse and instinct.” “And of course it usually works out well for him,” Sunset scoffed. “Not always,” Cobalt warned, his eyes narrowed.  The two stared at each other for a moment.  “I intend no criticism of the Element of Loyalty,” Sunset said slowly and formally.  Years of human high school had left her tongue sharp, and often sarcastic.  Barely suitable for royalty. And maybe she shouldn’t be mouthing off about one of her most significant subjects. But Cobalt waved a claw. “No, you’re probably right, highness,” he said.  “Heartwing has inexplicably good luck, sometimes.  Not always.  And never quite enough, for the number of ponies he’s lost over the years.  But the Discordant should have been wiped out years ago.  And part of that is because of who he is.  Chaos is still in his blood.  Always will be, and it comes with a sort of… grace that seems to keep him safe.” A smile spread across his beak.  “And I’ll take whatever amount of that luck, that chaotic grace, which happens to trickle down to his followers.” “Fair,” Sunset said.  “I meant no insult.  Actually, I’m jealous.  I…” The horrors of her last bout of leadership, and the carnage that it led to, danced gruesomely in her memory. “I am very jealous,” she whispered.  “He and I have a great deal to talk about.” “If his luck holds,” Cobalt says.  “He’s not immortal.  I’ve seen him bleed.” But it was the loyalty and devotion in Cobalt’s voice that convinced Sunset.  This was what she had to do. “This isn’t my story,” Sunset said.  “I’m not one of the Elements of Harmony.  I’m in the supporting cast, here.”  It seemed appropriate to frame it as a literary, or theatrical metaphor.  Because whatever was happening here, it was a narrative beyond her.  “What we need to do,” she continued, her thoughts going a mile a minute, “is set the stage for the real stars.  Tell me what you know about Heartwing’s departure, and the other Elements.” “We know very little.  Lady Emberglow, the Element of Honesty, cast an unknown spell that spirited her, and the rest of them, somewhere else.  We presume the city down below, to look for Rarity.  But we couldn’t be sure.  Lady Snowfall tried to trace the spell and said it was some form of teleportation, and her analysis backed up our assumption.  She took as many Knights as she could to sneak into the town, to try and offer support.” “Sir Heartwing will need time and space to work.  The Mystics have been focused up here, and the Adamant’s forces are focused on the border attacks.  We need to continue to draw their eyes.” Her mind was full of ideas.  Sunset had always been a planner; she’d always been able to see the big picture.  She prided herself at predicting outcomes and plotting contingencies.  It didn’t always work out for her (a shameful image of her standing next to a statue, holding a sledgehammer in human hands), but she liked being able to see all the puzzle pieces and assemble a larger picture from the images provided. “If everything had gone to plan,” Sunset continued, half thinking out loud.  “What would Heartwing have been doing right now?” “Using this place as a staging ground to infiltrate New Canterlot City,” Cobalt said.  “Trying to search for the Element of Magic.  From our correspondence, he assumed the Mystics held it, perhaps in one of their secure vaults.” “And how was he going to find it?” Sunset asked. Cobalt shrugged.  “I think his plan was, ‘let Destiny take its course’.” She snorted.  “Right.  So just wander around until it revealed itself?” “Harmony would find a way,” Cobalt said.  “I believe that.” There was a fervency in his response that surprised her.  Sunset wasn’t used to the idea of ponies expressing religious or spiritual beliefs; it hadn’t been a thing when she’d been growing up in Canterlot, or studying under Celestia’s tutelage. “Okay,” she sighed.  “I don’t think I can understand that.”  It was somewhat anathema to her thinking, in fact.  “But I can trust it.  At least for now.  Which leads us to the practical question.  What can we do to help?” Again, it was rhetorical.  But everypony nearby seemed to consider. “Distraction,” Oak Chips said suddenly.  He’d been a completely silent presence for several minutes, but his sudden voice reminded Sunset he was there.  And not only that, but that he had experience as an intelligence agent.  “If you can find a way to keep the attention of the Diarchy off finding him and the other Elements, allowing them the freedom to move?  It will help.” Sunset was already making plans. “And tell me about the Radiants and Angelic.  They’re an unknown element here, aren’t they?” “Don’t count them as a resource,” Cobalt warned.  “But they’re drawing the Diarchy’s attention, for sure.  The Radiant headquarters in New Canterlot City is under siege by the Knights Vigilant, under, I assume, the direction of the Mystics.  I don’t know what they hope to accomplish; the Radiant seem intent on maintaining their neutrality, and this is just drawing their focus from us.  Not that I’m going to complain.” “What can you tell me about the Knights who lead these neutral ponies?” “Lady Ambrosia,” Life Flight repeated.  “And the Angelic are lead by two stallions, Feather Bolt and Dustoff.”  She paused.  “I don’t know Ambrosia or Feather.  But Dustoff is an old friend, from before I defected.  I… I think he can be trusted, for what it’s worth.” Sunset went silent, thinking. The Diarchy was a formidable force, with many ponies at their command.  But they were fragmented, distracted, and pulled in too many directions. Their attention being split was an advantage, but one that had to be leveraged. She made a decision.  She floated the case, glowing with her orange magic, over to Colibri. “Take care of that.  And meet me in the central courtyard in twenty minutes.”  She turned to Life.  “Take me to see the leader of the Radiants.  I’d like to meet this Lady Ambrosia.” *   *   *   *   * The reactions of the Radiants as Sunset and her guard approached the Shrine of the Generous were very different from the reactions of the Discordant and Imperial soldiers.  The Empire had lived with alicorns for centuries, while the Diarchy had not.  There were looks of disgust towards her horn, of course, but more common were the looks of wonder. Life Flight approached first, pausing in front of the guarded door.  “Presenting Princess Sunset Shimmer, She Who Moves the Sun, the Wizard who Stepped Through Centuries.” Beside her, Oak let out a little snort of laughter, too low for anypony but Sunset and Philomena to hear.  “She has a real flair for the dramatic,” he noted in a whisper. But the guards at the door, two Knights Angelic, appeared suitably impressed.  One of them, with a hoof on the hilt of a sheathed sword, approached carefully. “Just how many of those things are there up north?” he muttered.  More loudly, he kept a steely gaze on Sunset.  “What does the Princess wish of us?” It was a neutral response, not too respectful, but he kept his voice free of the nervous fear Sunset could see in his eyes.  It was a clear show of discipline, and it left Sunset impressed. “I need a word with Lady Ambrosia.  I mean no harm.” “Dustoff,” Life said.  “You can trust her.  She won’t harm Ambrosia.” Sunset saw a look pass between the two ponies.  Finally Dustoff nodded.  “Tir.  Go tell Lady Ambrosia that she has a visitor.” The other Angelic saluted, and immediately darted inside the building. “I apologize for not inviting you inside, majesty,” Dustoff said, his voice awkward around the unfamiliar word. The Diarchy didn’t have royalty, after all.  “But we only have room for the wounded inside.” “The Princess will be happy to meet your leader out here,” Oak answered for her, as Sunset smiled.  It was a good show of strength to have her guard speak for her.  “And the proper address for a princess is highness, not majesty.” “My apologies, highness,” Dustoff said with a nod of his head.  Sunset’s respect for the Angelic grew.  “I’m sure Lady Ambrosia will be interested in a conversation.” “I won’t take much of her time,” Sunset said.  “I only have a single question for her.” That made Dustoff’s eyes widen nervously, but Sunset said no more. They only had to wait a few moments before the guard re-emerged, with an elderly pony in tow.  Lady Ambrosia carried herself with dignity despite her age, and there was no fear in her eyes as she looked at Sunset.  The blood spattered on her white robes, probably from the patients she’d been working on, did nothing to detract from her elegance. “Highness.  Welcome to Old Canterlot,” she said, her voice even. “You don’t need to welcome me to my own home, Lady Ambrosia,” Sunset said.  She felt the need to try and knock this pony off-balance.  It was a petty sort of thing, a remnant of the power games she used to play in high school, but she did it anyways.  “I was born and raised here, before Celestia took me on as her student.  My name is Sunset Shimmer.” She made sure to emphasize her name.  She had been told exactly how these Diarchy ponies remembered her.  She’d even laughed, a little bitterly, when she’d heard that she was the new focus of their Nightmare Night celebrations. It made her wonder what was going through their heads, to be meeting the literal devil of their faith.  The one Knight, Tir, recoiled at the sound of her name.  Dustoff blinked a few times but didn’t react otherwise. Ambrosia was a stone. “Of course, Princess Sunset.  But surely this place isn’t quite your home any longer, is it?” she said as she approached.  “You don’t intend to stay, do you?  It would be hazardous for you.  Probably disastrous.” It wasn’t exactly a threat, but it was certainly unfriendly. “It has certainly changed for the worse,” Sunset said.  There was a part of her that thrilled at the chance to verbally spar with another.  She couldn’t help but smile.  “Canterlot was always a place of such peace, enlightenment, and harmony.  Celestia, an alicorn just like me, made certain of it.” Again, the younger of the two Angelic recoiled, but both Dustoff and Ambrosia remained stoic. “Still, it is pointless to reminisce, though I’m sure I’d be fascinated to perhaps speak with you in the future about the Canterlot of ancient history.  Perhaps I can also share with you what it means to us in these modern times?” Sunset’s sense of pleasure deepened, despite the circumstances.  She liked this mare. “Perhaps.  But when we are not in such a moment of crisis.” “Indeed,” Ambrosia said, and she hung her head.  “Princess, I understand your presence here is probably because of the loss of your fellow monarch.  I am truly sorry.” The mare’s voice sounded genuine.  It solidified Sunset’s plan in her mind. “I appreciate that, Lady Ambrosia,” Sunset said.  “And I won’t take much of your time.  I realize you are busy.  The Imperial Crown is grateful for your efforts to heal our wounded people.  You have kept the word you gave to Princess Flurry, and We thank you for it.  Right now, I only have one question for you.” “Only one?” Ambrosia now showed her surprise. “Yes, Lady Ambrosia.  I have been informed that your Sisters, as well as your allies the Angelic, are under siege in New Canterlot City.  Tell me; what would they do if somepony broke through the siege?” Ambrosia blinked, nonplussed.  It wasn’t a question she’d been expecting, clearly.  She took a few moments to regain her composure and think. “The Radiant and the Angelic do not ask for the Empire’s help in resolving our conflicts,” she said slowly.  “Though the sentiment is appreciated.” “I wasn’t asking for your permission,” Sunset said, leaning forward.  “I was asking, if it happened, what the ponies inside Diamond Home would do?” Curiosity and concern filled Ambrosia’s expression.  She clearly had a million questions to ask herself, now. “My dear friend, Grand Master Fairy Light, leads the forces inside,” Ambrosia said finally.  “If there is a chance to see her, and the rest, to safety, we would…” She blinked and narrowed her eyes. “Why?” “Because I might do it,” Sunset said simply. “I told you, we don’t need—” “I don’t care,” Sunset said.  “What would they do?” “Lady Fairy hoped staying in Diamond Home would be viable.  I don’t think it is.  If somepony broke the siege, I think… I think I could convince her to evacuate them here.” “Send a message to your Grand Master,” Sunset said.  “Tell her to be ready.” And with that, she turned and began to walk away, leaving Ambrosia staring, stunned, behind her. *   *   *   *   * Colibri was in the center of the courtyard, just as Sunset had asked.  There were several other ponies milling about, curious, concerned, afraid.  Sunset could see their faces.  They burned with a need; a need for hope, for direction, for leadership and for a purpose. She wasn’t about to give it to them, but hopefully, if she’d read everypony correctly, she’d let them find it themselves. This was the answer.  This was what Celestia would have done: to put her trust and faith in ponies.  To trust in their goodness, their courage and their spirit.  As the Diarchy leveraged their fear and their hate, Sunset would leverage their bravery and their hope. Philomena flew up above her, and Sunset smiled.  “I hope I’ll make her proud today,” she said, and Philomena cawed.  “Care to let us in on the plan, highness?” Oak asked by her side. Sunset grinned mysteriously.  “Ever heard of democracy?  I’m gonna put my trust in ponies, and see what they do.” It was a supremely difficult choice  she was going to ask them to make.  But Sunset’s faith was in ponies. Just like Celestia’s had always been. Colibri bowed as she approached, the crowd parting so that Sunset and her guard could reach the center of the courtyard.  She held out the case full of potions.  “Highness.  How can we serve?” She sounded desperate for a plan, for a purpose, as well. “I intend to offer whatever aid I can to the Elements of Harmony,” Sunset said, her horn flaring as she cast the loudspeaker spell.  “I shall do so by creating the biggest distraction the Diarchy has ever seen.  Sunset Shimmer, their feared and reviled heretic, will descend on their city and break the siege on Diamond Home.  And I will do so alone, if I need to.” Many of the ponies voiced spontaneous protest to that, including every single member of her guard.  She raised a hoof. “Please.  Hear me out.  I recognize that it is dangerous, and that you just lost one princess.  I have no intention of dying.  But it is dangerous.  And… and I’m asking for your help.  Not ordering, but asking.” A cry of ascent went up from the assembled ponies.  It gave her hope. “But before I formally ask for volunteers to join me, you all need to know something.  When our forces took this palace, we captured something else.  Something tragic.  Colibri, please open the case.” She did so, gulping.  The rows of potions glittered in the light. “Set it down on the ground, please.” Every eye was locked on the potions inside. “Many of you know what these are.  You know where they come from.  What was sacrificed to create them.  By capturing these one hundred and eight potions from the Diarchy, that’s one hundred and eight new Knights that won’t be born to torment and kill our people.  One hundred and eight fewer Knights to threaten and terrorize our homes.  It is a victory beyond mere numbers.” She paused.  She could see what they were all thinking.  She’d put the idea in their head, without even saying it. It was a dark, terrible thing to ask of anypony.  Sunset knew that, more than any of them.  She’d been yanked past the bodies, some still alive, of the unicorns of her own rebellion in Manehatten after their horns had been harvested.  She knew that in some ponies’ minds, she would be borrowing darkness to fight darkness. It was a burden she was willing to bear.  They could make their choices, and she could accept the consequences. “No!” There was a shout from the crowd.  It was a griffon, one of the Discordant forces, dressed in civilian clothing and wearing a heavy blacksmith’s apron. “No, please, Princess,” he continued, bowing as the crowd parted between them.  Oak shifted, subtlety, in order to be between her and the griffon.  “What you are suggesting… what you are not saying… it’s too much.  It’s too foul.  Those potions are made of the horns of foals.  We can’t fight evil by embracing it!” “What is your name?” Sunset asked, and the griffon shrunk down a little.  He cleared his throat, though, and stood up again when it was clear there was no anger in her voice. “Gordon Mountaincrest, highness.  I’m one of the civilians working with Colibri, here. I serve as a blacksmith and a chaplain.  A moral guide, when I can be.”  He pointed a claw as if by accusation at the potions.  “We can’t embrace this cannibalism.” “She never told anypony to take the potion, Gordon,” Colibri said, softly.  Her gaze kept darting back and forth between Sunset and the case.  “She didn’t even suggest it.” “But you know that’s what she’s leading up to!” the griffon cried.  “She wants us to… to use these abominations here!  To fight!  To accept the same corruption that all Knights do.  And you know it kills some people who take it, too!” “Do we have another choice?” one of the other ponies muttered. It was like a floodgate.  A hundred voices fired to life, ponies arguing and talking.  Sunset sat back, waiting patiently. “Is this what you meant to happen?” Oak said softly at her side. She nodded.  “It needs to happen.  We need this.  But they need to decide on their own.” Oak nodded.  It was hard to tell in his solid, insectoid eyes, but he looked troubled.  Finally he took a step forward. And he took one of the potions. The crowd went silent. Oak hefted the potion into the air, and looked out over the crowd. “This griffon has reminded you what exactly this is,” he said loudly.  Gordon sat back in the snow, moaning in dismay.  “And the Princess will not ask this of you.  But she won’t stop you, either.” “Those potions are evil,” Gordon fired back. “Don’t be tempted by the power, because the cost isn’t worth it.” Oak nodded.  “A sword is also evil, if used to kill.” “But a sword can be put down!  Knighthood can’t—” Colibri surged forward, her wings spread.  She reached out for the potion. “Gordon.  We all know what it’s made of.  But it’s already been brewed.” “Colibri, you’re going to get yourself—” “Slate is down there,” she waved with a wing.  “My fiancé followed Lady Snowfall down into the city.  They’re outnumbered, but they’re doing what they can to help Sir Heartwing.  We owe him to do better than sitting on our rumps waiting for another attack to kill us all.” She took the potion from Oak, and pulled off the stopper.  Gordon lunged forward, as if he could somehow physically stop her. “Wait!” Sunset commanded, her voice booming.  The Royal Canterlot Voice, she noted with some small amusement.  It was the first time she’d used it, and everybody froze, eyes wide with horror.  “Wait, Gordon.  She’s allowed to make her own choice.” “But the unicorn who’s horn this is?  They never got to,” he shot back, his gaze furious on hers. Sunset inclined her head.  “No.  They didn’t.  But is it really honoring the dead to waste this chance to avenge them?  To bring this small bit of justice and meaning to their life?” “Answering violence with violence, death with death, is not the path of Harmony,” Gordon spat bitterly. “No,” Colibri said.  “I won’t kill.  Not unless I have to.  B-but I won’t let my Slate die.  I won’t let the Elements die.  I won’t let another Princess die.” And before anybody could say anything else she downed the potion in a single gulp. Gordon gasped.  Colibri’s eyes shot wide, and she clenched her stomach with a cry. But it was Life Flight who caught her. “Wait, please.  Give her space.  The process is painful, but if anypony is strong enough to survive, it’ll be Colibri.” Life gently lowered the mare to the ground.  “Somepony go get a tent.  Or cast a warming spell.  A wind shield, maybe.  The cold isn't going to help.” Colibri was starting to shake.  Nopony was immediately jumping to follow Life Flight’s orders, so Sunset did it herself, casting a wide shield around the gathered ponies, even warming the air inside with a second.  It felt good to be casting again. “The process is very painful,” Life says, flinching.  “But it’s short, though it seems like forever at the time.” Oak reached down, pulling another potion from the case. “I will be next.  Whoever you were, unicorn, I will do you honor.  I will use your life to protect another.” He raised the potion, as if in toast, to Sunset Shimmer, who nodded with suddenly misty eyes.  And then he drank. “E-everybody,” he grunted, falling to his knees.  “I-if you take the potion, you m-must keep your motives in mind.  F-fix your mind on your w-why.  Mine is Escher.” An earth pony stepped up next, wearing an Imperial uniform. “My… my wife and foals,” he said.  “In the Empire.  I’ve seen so much death.  Too many lost.  I’ll protect life, with this.”  He took his own potion.  “For Rogue, my love.” “Dusty!” Gordon cried out, but the soldier had already drunk. A unicorn was next, dressed in a blood-splashed healer’s coat.  “I… I’m tired of staying behind while others fight for me.  I want to heal.  But I want to protect as well.  My friends, my family.  And the Radiants have done so much for our ponies.  We can do this for them.”  He pulled the stopper off his own potion.  “For my sister, Smoky Flare.” “Morning, you don’t have to—” Sunset moved forward, placing a wing on Gordon’s back.  He looked up, his eyes full of tears, but there was anger and shock behind them. “Is this what you wanted?” “To give them a choice?” Sunset said.  “Yes.  To give the poor souls killed a chance to have some kind of meaning?  Yes.  Gordon, I understand.  I was there when the Knights were first deployed.  I saw the carnage they left in their wake.  I understand.” “Then why?” he sobbed. “Because we have an opportunity.  We have a chance to re-direct the course of history today.  And it’s slipping from our hooves.” “So it’s not really about avenging the dead unicorns?  Or justice?  Just a means to an end, a tool you’re going to use to win?” He sounded bitter. “It’s all of those things,” Sunset said softly.  “I’ll use whatever I can, if it means I never have to see what I saw in Manehatten again.  Now.  Some of these are your friends?  They made a choice.  And they need your support now, more so than your judgment.” Gordon stared between her and the writhing ponies on the ground, even as more and more stepped forward to take potions of their own.  Finally he sighed, his eyes clenched shut. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” he whispered. “Wrong,” Sunset said.  “I know exactly what I’ve done.”  But Gordon was already moving off to comfort his friends as they struggled and cried out in pain. “Highness,” one of her guards spoke up.  She glanced at the pegasus.  The mare looked uncomfortable.  “The potion.  It will help us protect you better?” “Don’t you dare drink for my sake,” Sunset said, but the mare’s face hardened. “Sorry, highness.  But we will.  We’ll never let another alicorn die.  With your permission?” And Sunset nodded with a sigh as the mare stepped up and drank. One after another, all one hundred and eight potions disappeared.  Her entire guard, changelings and pegasi both.  Crystal ponies, Diarchy expatriates, and civilians from Angel’s Rest. Sunset moved between them all, comforting, encouraging.  There were others watching, too.  Gordon the griffon, gently singing some kind of hymn.  Life Flight, who, Sunset guessed, had already taken the potion in the past. Life had been right.  It was perhaps only twenty minutes before Colibri, sweaty and out of breath, sat up.  Others began to come to.  Slowly the chorus of agonized cries began to slow. “Miss Life,” Sunset said, a sudden fear gripping her heart.  “I need to know how many… if any…” “On it, highness,” Life said.  Sunset watched with worry as she went between each of the ponies and changelings.  As she waited, Oak Chips struggled to his hooves. “You didn’t have to,” Sunset whispered to him. “Yes.  I did,” he said back.  “And I’m proud having done so.  We will keep you safe, highness.  My life before yours.” There was a sudden lump in her throat.  There was a time in her life when she would have felt entitled to this sort of loyalty.  Now… “I don’t deserve you all,” she whispered. “If it helps,” Oak said.  “It’s only partially for you.” “Escher,” Sunset said, and Oak nodded.  “I’ll never forget his name.  Will you tell me about him, later?” “I promise,” Oak said. But then Life was approaching, her eyes wide.  Sunset braced herself. “How many?” “None, highness,” Life breathed, her voice full of wonder.  “None of them died.  You… it’s a miracle.  A blessing.” “Maybe so,” she said, glancing over at Gordon.  He was close enough to have heard, and even he looked stunned.  “I’ll take it.  One hundred and eight Knights might be enough to catch their eye, and hopefully give Heartwing the space to do whatever it is he needs to do.” “Um.  One hundred and nine, please, highness,” Life said softly.  “I retired years ago.  To raise my foals.  But my husband is down in that town.  He followed Lady Snowfall.  And it’s killing me, not knowing whether or not he’s safe.  Like Colibri with her Slate, I need to do what I can to protect my Vex.” “Do you still have armor?” “Colibri found dozens of sets.  Maybe even enough for all of us.  Unpainted, though.” “I think I can fix that.  Find somebody to bring them out for me?  My Knights will need armor.” It would give them time to recover. By this point, though, several others were gathering to see what had happened.  Some had even already realized what had happened, and were looking disappointedly towards the now-empty case, and the empty, sometimes broken vials on the cold ground. Colibri, her voice strained, began issuing orders to the rubberneckers.  “Witch Storm, A-anteater?  Organize a t-team from these b-bystanders to go f-fetch the armor from the palace.  B-basement storage, third vault on the left.  The vault door’s b-broken.” The two bystanders saluted.  One of them, a unicorn mare, even gulped. “Um, yes, Lady Colibri,” she said, and Colibri’s eyes widened. “Get used to it,” Life said.  “You’re one of us, now.” Colibri nodded slowly, looking stunned. Sunset watched it all with a sort of surprise.  She’d expected volunteers.  She hadn’t expected to run out.  With one hoof she rubbed her eyes. “Ponies.  My ponies.  I am…” she choked back a hitch of emotion.  “I am stunned.  I am proud.  I don’t deserve you.  You…”  She trailed off, unable to speak further. “It’s not just for you, you know,” Oak Chips said teasingly.  “They want to keep you safe for the Empire.  For their homes, for their families.  You’re just… a convenient symbol of all that.” “Thank you for deflating my ego, Sir Oak,” she said, and even his eyes widened.  Sunset laughed.  “I might need you to do that from time to time.” “Well, I just might,” Oak said.  “I’ll warn you.  If I am going to be your guard, I’ll need to be able to ignore your orders on occasion.  I’ll keep you safe, regardless of what you say.  I won’t let you go off on your own.”  He paused.  “The way that Princess Flurry did.” “As long as you don’t stop me from doing what I need to do today, I won’t object.  Does that make you the Grand Master of my Knights, then?” “Oh.  Oh, by Chrysalis’ egg, please don’t do this to me.” “Too late, Sir Oak.  You just volunteered.” Oak Chips moaned in dismay, while Sunset laughed. Meanwhile, a dozen or so supply ponies were stacking large crates on the ground by the recovering Knights.  Sunset walked over to one of them, wrenching off the lid with a surge of her magic.  Inside was a polished steel set of fresh Knight armor, including a rune gauntlet. “Shiny,” Oak noted as he looked over the rim. “Maybe,” Sunset said, curling her nose at it.  “But boring.  I can do better.  Especially if I’m going to try and out-shine whatever Heartwing and Rarity are up to in New Canterlot City.  We’re going to need to be beyond fabulous to draw their attention.  We’re going to need to be… resplendent.” She lit her horn, splashing the armor with her magic.  The metal shifted in color, changing from bright steel to a glossy orange, the same as her coat.  “Not good enough,” Sunset hummed, as she stared at the orange metal.  Her horn flashed again, and the color changed; now it was a gradient, a slow fade from pinkish-orange to a deep red. A true sunset.  And to complete it, she summoned an image of Celestia’s cutie mark for the flank. “No, Princess.  Not the mark of a pony we don’t know,” Oak said gently.  “Yours.” Sunset had wanted to avoid that. “You can have her symbol on your own armor, but we…” and he glanced around, as if collecting agreement, “...we will be following you into battle, not Princess Celestia.” “Very well.  What about a name for us all?” “You already said it,” Oak noted.  “The Knights Resplendent.” “I’m glad the Grand Master approves,” Sunset said.  “Put on your armor, Sir Oak, and get ready to lead your Knights Resplendent into Tartarus.” “We’ll be with you, Highness.”