Reverie’s head hung against her desk, her body seemed to sag, and her rainbow mane fell in front of her eyes. Her shoulders shrugged up and down as she let out a dark chuckle, and her neck drunkenly swayed back and forth, as if she were not in complete control of it.

Without looking up, the adept put her hooves above her head and began to clop them together in applause, slowly and rhythmically. The sound echoed through the chamber’s oppressive silence.

Her voice was choking and uneven, the usual, pleasant grit of her tone perverted into something that could come from the mouth of no natural pony. It made Celestia’s hair stand on end, and sent shivers through her spine. She realized she was gritting her teeth at simply hearing the horrible voice.

The courtroom remained quiet, as everypony waited for something, anything to happen. Even the guards seemed to be frozen in place. They all knew something was wrong, but nopony seemed to know what. Nopony except for Clover the Clever, who stood across the room, horn glowing readily, and Lucky Break, who stood with switchblade deployed and a broken spear in his mouth, regarding Reverie with the kind of caution and hostility he might show an enemy on the battlefield.

The whole courtroom turned in the direction of Clover the Clever, taking a defiant step towards her student.

“Fight it, Reverie! Fight it! You mustn’t give in!” Her horn was still glowing with a slight, sparkling lavender, not actually performing magic, but ready to at any moment.

Reverie seemed perturbed. Her head remained against the desk, but she began muttering to herself.

“We’ve studied this, trained for this! Reverie, you know what’s happening here!” She took another step forward, and stretched forth a beseeching hoof. Regardless of her pleas, however, the rest of her posture suggested she was ready for conflict. Ready for her diplomacy to fail.

Reverie’s eyes suddenly flashed a bright, blood red, and she stood up, planting her hooves firmly on the table. On her face was a contorted, ugly expression of sudden anger.

“You are being very rude!” Her horn took on a sudden glow. It was an unnatural grey, and instead of illuminating the room, it seemed to suck the light out of whatever it shined upon. Without further warning, a jagged lightning bolt of pure energy issued forth from her horn, directed straight towards Clover.

She reacted much quicker than expected, but not quick enough. The bolt arced through the air, and into a thin, magical bubble shield that had did not have long enough to charge. Clover’s ward immediately cracked and, a moment later, shattered in a spectacle that was not unlike breaking glass. Shards of magic hung in the air for a moment before disappearing. Clover’s frail body had been flung across the room, into the Zebrican diplomat’s table.

The courtroom was once again silent, as everybody looked wide-eyed at the weak, stirring body of Clover the Clever.

“Well would you look at that? I’d say the body count has risen drastically in the past few minutes. Seconds, actually. But we can do better, can’t we?”

Every head turned back towards her. All around were dark expressions of recognition, anger, and, most predominately, fear. They suddenly knew what they were dealing with.

As if someone had sounded a trumpet and signaled an attack, nearly every single soldier in the room charged towards the creature that was not Reverie. Spears were raised, swords were drawn, claws were brandished, and battle cries were yelled, as the elite warriors of every species rushed forward. In the same beat, as though a twin trumpet of retreat had been blown, all the spectators and all the diplomats got up at once, and began rushing toward the doors.

She had just enough time to rise to her hooves, remove her mage’s cloak, and draw a dagger before they reached her. What was supposed to be a rainbow of reds and yellows behind a twinkling star for her cutie mark was a dulled-out grey, the same as the rest of her coat.

A griffon closed the distance first, diving towards her with outstretched metal claws, and yelling with the distinctive cross between a lion’s roar and an eagle’s shriek. She spun around, grabbed her chair, and brought it back with both hooves, swinging it with unnatural force and smashing it hard into his face. The blow knocked him sideways and sent him spiraling to the floor. The wooden chair exploded into pieces, along with the griffon’s beak. He rolled on the ground, screaming and clutching at his face.

A zebra brayed as it reached Reverie next, closely followed by a pony of the Royal Guard. The zebra swung a curved sickle blade in a wide arc, and missed only barely, leaving herself open for a stab from Reverie’s dagger, aimed for the gaps in between her ironwood armor. She did not relent, and swung again. This time, Reverie quickly withdrew her weapon and grabbed the zebra’s hoof, twisting it so that she released the sickle-sword, letting it fly into the air. While still disabled, Reverie rolled to the other side of her body and pushed, presenting her captor as a meat shield and blocking the oncoming spear of a Royal Guard. The pegasus stared wide-eyed at the end of his weapon, before the two of them were knocked back by a burst of magic.

She jumped back as one of the donkeys clad in black came down with an overhead swipe, and jumped forward again as Apple Crumble landed from an aerial dive, pounding a crack into the marble behind her and shouting a with powerful battle cry. He had no weapons, but seemed even fiercer because of it. Farther off, a unicorn from the royal guard began firing off spells, short, precise bursts of fire. Elsewhere, she felt another unicorn mage tugging at her limbs with telekinesis, unable to completely grab her, but making her movements more sluggish nonetheless.

A distinct crack rang through the air; the strange, tall creature that had followed Cotton in was pointing some sort of metal device towards Reverie. Grey smoke rose from the end of it. He put a hand on the railing, and jumped away from the stands and onto the diplomat’s floor, his faded green trench coat fluttering behind him as he did so. The fight went on as he circled around, trying to get a clear angle on his target.

Celestia’s limbs slowly worked themselves backwards, not towards a door, but simply away from the creature that was not Reverie. Eventually, she bumped into wall, and barely seemed to notice it. Her eyes were fixated on the Adept.

A wave of confused, almost unnatural emotions coursed through her, making her dizzy with fatigue. She felt unbreakable fascination, as she watched not-Reverie’s nimble movements. The confident mage had become a veritable monster; her face was fixed into a beastly, smiling snarl as she blocked blows, broke limbs, and swiped her dagger at the numerous foes around her.

Celestia also felt fear, which she supposed was normal, given the circumstance. She looked towards the exits, watching the diplomats as they clamored away from the scene. Or, at least, as they tried to get away. The doors seemed to be magically sealed shut, and no amount of pushing would open them.

Above all, however, there was one emotion that ran through her like hot blood, setting her eyes ablaze, urging her forward to go and fight, were there any room for her. It was not so dissimilar from what she had just been feeling, the same thing that had made her... choke… Princess Obsidian…

“Princess!” Her cry was lost in the chaos. She galloped to the body, fell to her haunches, and examined her, setting a hoof gently against her neck.

She felt a wave of relief, followed very closely by remorse. This was not like beating soldiers in the dueling ring, nor was it even like being beat. Trainees were hurt all the time in the barracks. Even in cases like her own, where she had been beaten, broken, rendered unconscious and nearly crippled; the best could only be forged in the crucible of training, and the heat of battle. To have a few get injured along the way was to be expected. If their weapon had to be burned in the smith’s forge to be made sharper, so be it.

But this… assaulting a royal on the floor of debate… It was undoubtedly different, and it was almost more than Celestia could bear. Ponies hardly sympathized with her to begin with. Who then would they sympathize with when judgment would be passed? Her, or the pony she had nearly choked to death? There would undoubtedly be a price to pay.

Celestia’s anger had been so utterly complete, it had felt like there was no other choice. Had the princess even deserved it? What had come over her?

She was not given long to wonder about it. Out of the corner of her eye, Celestia glanced something of far greater importance than her own worry.

“Cotton!” She immediately sprang over the princess’s body, and next to Cotton, who was on her side, all four hooves splayed limply on the floor.

“Cotton…” She fell to her haunches and got low to the floor, urgently shaking her friend. She bit her lip, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

“It’s going to be okay, please, please let it be okay…” Celestia gingerly tucked her hooves under Cotton’s unmoving form, and brought her up, pushing against her back with one hoof, and cradling her head with the other. The pink and purple curls of her mane bounced as her head rolled limply in Celestia’s arms. Her mouth was parted, just a bit, and her eyes were closed.

“Please be okay, please be okay…” Celestia murmured to Cotton, pleading, repeating the words over and over. “Please be okay.” She brushed her own mane out of the way, and put an ear to Cotton’s chest, closing her eyes. “Please be okay.”

Her own heart skipped a beat. It was faint, but it was there, a soft but steady heartbeat, weakly insistent that its owner was still alive.

Celestia let out a happy gasp, wrapping her arms around Cotton’s form and holding her close. A weak voice came from above her head.

“Cotton!” Celestia drew her head back. Cotton’s eyes flickered open, and were held at a tired squint.

“What’s going…” She trailed off. Her voice was weak and scratchy, but for all its quietness, it was the only thing in the room Celestia could hear.

Cotton weakly scowled. Her eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the ferocious yelling and violent bursts of light and sound. Whether or not she could, Celestia was unsure.

“Not yet. Listen to me, Cotton,” Celestia said urgently, sniffling and wiping away some of the moisture in her eyes, “Just keep your head down, okay? Everything will be alright.”

Cotton just stared at her for a moment with a blank expression. “Okay,” she absently agreed.

Satisfied, Celestia nodded, and dared to take a moment to glance back. She immediately wished she had not. Sailing through the air towards her the massive body of a griffon soldier, its back facing towards them, armor spikes glinting in the courtroom light. They only had a moment before it hit them.

She turned back towards Cotton, pulled her tight and spread her wings, encompassing her in a protective, albeit flimsy barrier. Her teeth were grit and her eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

There was a grunt of exertion, and Celestia flinched as she heard a massive collision only a few feet away.

Seconds passed, and Celestia cautiously opened her eyes. Next to her lay the body of a griffon. Next to that was Lucky Break, freeing himself from a midair tackle, pushing away from the griffon and bringing himself to his hooves.

“They managed to get that door open.” He motioned to a side of the room, where diplomats and citizens alike were crowded, clamoring for a small, single door exit.

He started towards the fight, where Reverie was beginning to look tired. In the brief time it had been going on, Lucky had found a second switchblade, which he attached to his left hoof, and a spear, which he carried in his mouth.

He took off. Celestia looked after him only briefly, before looking back at Cotton. It seemed she was again unconscious. Celestia exhaled, and gently wrapped her arms around Cotton’s. Once Celestia was sure she was secure, she began dragging her towards the exit. It was fairly easy – Cotton did not seem weigh very much. More difficult was navigating the frenzied crowd, scrambling and pushing towards the single exit, each creature fleeing for their own self. Some fights even broke out between them, making the whole process take that much longer. Celestia hoisted Cotton up onto her back, her legs drooping across either side of her, and while she was easy to carry, it did not seem to help much. With her free hooves, she returned to Princess Obsidian, and began dragging her towards the crowded exit as well.

On the other side of the room, Reverie was still fighting, completely surrounded in a corner on the diplomat’s floor. She ducked, dodged, and weaved in between attacks, lashing out with her own when she could. She was not given the opportunity to attack very often, but when she was, the results were devastating. Even so, eventually, it was all she could do to summon a thick, magical shield to block attacks coming in from every angle, from every type of combatant.

Reverie folded herself into a tight ball, and there was a brief but intense silence, like a second-long calm before a storm. Motion everywhere seemed to slow, and the lull in noise was conspicuously encompassing. Then, without further warning, Reverie flung her limbs outward, her body extending in every direction. A huge burst of kinetic energy blasted out in a full circle radius around her, completely stopping the attacks and knocking her assailants away. Every one of them tumbled to the ground, dazed, confused, and some, unmoving.

The blast toppled some of the escaping diplomats. Celestia was able to keep her balance, though she was forced to adjust Cotton on her back, slightly propping up her wings to prevent her from falling off.

Reverie was in the center of the courtroom, hovering half a foot off the ground, enveloped by grey magic. Below her, the marble tile bore a spider web of cracks that was slightly larger than the size of her body.

“Tsk, tsk. All I need is for you to listen.” Her hooves slowly returned to the ground. A sly smile took to her face. “Afterwards, I promise you can hurt me as much as you-”

A spear came hurling through the air, straight towards Reverie’s forehead. With no time to spare, she ducked out of the way. The spearhead caught the very fringe of her mane, shaving a few strands of red and orange hair away, but did not connect with her skin.

Across the room was Lucky, recovering from the motion of a powerful javelin throw. The debris in his coat was telling; he had indeed been knocked back by Reverie’s sudden sphere of force. Nevertheless, he seemed to have recovered extraordinarily quickly, and was already picking up a second spear nearby, winding up to hurl it as well.

A second spear came her way. Her eyes widened, and she deflected it with a second burst of magic, sending it ricocheting off of the marble wall behind her. She turned back, and growled.

Lucky had already retrieved another weapon, an abandoned crossbow with a bolt still in the chamber. Reverie gave a delirious chuckle, face still contorted into a tight scowl.

He steadied the crossbow with both arms, and fired. Reverie acted immediately, magically pulling an overturned table in front of her, the largest and widest in the room. The bolt caught the wood, arrowhead digging deep and shaft quivering as it came to a halt. Without pause, she telekinetically propelled the makeshift shield towards Lucky, sending it forward with alarming speed.

There was no dodging it. The table dully scraped against the stone floor, crossing the room in mere fractions of a moment. Lucky’s eyes narrowed. A moment was all he needed.

He charged, jumped, thrust his shoulder forward, and collided with the wood in a full-bodied blitz.

Reverie watched as Lucky burst through her attack, sailing a foot off of the ground, his stalwart bull rush framed by the jagged halves of the table, plus a halo of smaller chunks and splintering fragments. Splinters dug everywhere into the front of his coat, especially on the right side, where a shallow laceration had been torn into his shoulder. His face was scrunched, his eyes closed, and the crossbow was still in his hooves. Nevertheless, he landed on the other side with surprising grace, and kept charging.

Lucky had thrown the crossbow at Reverie, and it had hit her in the cheek. She staggered back, grasping her face.

“You ponies never let me finish my-” She began to turn her head back, and was met on a sharp pain on the other side of her face. Lucky had swung a hoof and punched her hard in the jaw.

“You’ll have to try better than that,” he said, deploying his switchblades and swiping with both of them, “if you want to beat me!”

She dodged away, laughing at some joke only she could hear. “Indeed. What on earth could defeat such a mighty warrior?”

Lucky leapt forward, thrusting forward with the thick, lethal blade at the end of his hoof, and again, and again. Reverie dodged them all.

Her horn glowed with that odd, grey light, and a cluster of levitating furniture sped towards him. Lucky jumped and contorted his body to fit into a space between them, allowing them all to pass. As he returned to the ground, he grabbed the last chair to pass by and yanked it back, redirecting it towards Reverie. It was slowed and weakened by a thin magical shield, but the momentum was enough to carry it through, and shatter the chair legs against her side. She gave an animalistic growl, but did not fall.

She stepped back, dropped her dagger, and picked up a sword from off the ground, grabbing it with her magic and letting it float in midair. Lucky reacted immediately, effortlessly flipping a sword off the ground and into his teeth. The Adept’s blade flew in a pronounced, vertical strike, which he easily blocked, knocking it away with his own. It flew back around, and came at him from another angle, but he blocked it as well. Lucky scowled; only the greenest of unicorn war mages thought wielding a sword through levitation to be a good idea. It had its merits, and when performed properly, it could be a powerful technique when used by a veteran, but generally, the strokes were too pronounced, and followed through too sluggishly. Blocking a levitated sword was just as difficult as blocking a normal one, but if done successfully, the wielder was often left wide open.

Some of the warriors still able to fight began to rise, retrieving their weapons, shaking out the last of their disorientation, and looking for the mare that knocked them back. Sweat formed on Reverie’s brow. Her movements were becoming more sluggish, her reactions slower. Lucky knew that even if he did not gain the upper hand, his fellow soldiers undoubtedly would.

Regardless, just as predicted, Reverie took a swing too large, and left herself wide open. He parried the blow and took a forward swipe, cutting deeply across one of her forelegs. She stumbled forward. In the same motion, Lucky turned his whole body, reared back, and sent a hugely powerful bucking kick in her direction. She practically fell into it as his hooves connected the side of her head. Her head jerked violently back at the impact, and her whole body was swept off the ground, corkscrewing through the air, landing and tumbling across the floor a few feet away.

Lucky immediately jumped on top her, pinned her hard against the ground, and held a deployed switchblade to her throat.

He breathed heavily, his orange mane drifting in front of his eyes. He flicked it aside, and looked at the mare beneath him, who stared blankly away. He said nothing, simply waiting for a reaction. It took a few moments before she did anything, but gradually, her eyes fixated on something, and a slow smile took to her face.

“Grrraahhh!” He pressed firmly against the unicorn’s leg wound, ruthlessly crushing it beneath his hoof. The fur around his hoof was stained a dark red.

The giggling only seemed to get louder, becoming a mix between a scream of pain, and a laugh of insane joy.

“Aahhhhh! Ahahahaha!” The manic laughter did not cease. “Oh! Ohohoho! That hurts, Commander! Even she can feel that underneath!”

“Aaaaaaouch! Ah, Commander, you’re scaring her! Heheheheh! Will he do it, will he do it? Who knows, my little pony?!”

Lucky’s furious snarl seemed to lessen by degrees. The lunatic scream seemed to unnerve him. He hesitated, and let up a little, but did not release her, and neither did he withdraw the blade at her throat. She did not even seem to notice.

“Hah! Hahahaha! So, like I was saying, how do you defeat such a great warrior? Heh heh. Certainly not with a sword. Oh no. What folly. What folly… but I’ve got a different weapon. I think… I think this one will work. It’s worked before.”

“How do you defeat such a great warrior?” Reverie’s voice came to a whisper, wavering with insanity. “Easy. You give him a choice.”

Lucky’s eyes widened, and he took a sharp breath. His ear gave a nearly imperceptible twitch, followed by a spasm in his cheek.

The world seemed to slow as he jumped off of Reverie, and dove towards a dagger on the ground, the one she had dropped moments before. He retrieved it, and tumbled sideways to right his stance. Coming to his hooves, he brought the blade up, ready to throw it.

Lucky spun the blade in his hoof, and threw it with all his might, letting it fly across the room. The metal glinted in the dreary courtroom light as it sailed directly towards Cotton Cake, still lying limply across Celestia’s back.

Celestia was still trying to maneuver through the crowd when it happened. She felt a sudden force at her side, shoving her to the floor. Still dead to the world, Cotton fell off of her back without protest. Princess Obsidian was similarly still, arms falling limply to the floor as Celestia was forced to release them. Still knocked prone, Celestia did not see what happened next.

Coming from beside her was the sickening sound of punctured flesh, followed by a cry of pain. Celestia rose to her hooves to see Cotton Cake, firmly locked in place by Reverie, who was standing on two hind legs and had an arm pressing hard against Cotton’s neck, putting Cotton’s body in between herself and Lucky.

Celestia gasped as her eyes followed a crimson trail up Cotton’s cyan coat; at the head of it, buried deep in her shoulder, was a steel dagger.

“Oooo, not half bad, Lucky, ol’ pal!” Reverie sneered. “That talent of yours always did amaze me! The second I thought it, whoosh, there you were, heroically throwing a dagger at where you knew I would be!”

Lucky stood on the other side of the room, speechless. His arm was still stretched out from where the blade had left his hoof, hovering motionless in the air.

“It must be great for staying alive, huh? Except, well, it never turns out well for your friends, does it?” Reverie’s head swiveled, looking around to see if anyone was listening. She then leaned forward, past her hostage’s head, and mock whispered to Lucky.

“This time, you stabbed a seventeen-year-old filly in the shoulder,” she said in a loud, raspy mock-whisper, nodding at him.

Lucky did not respond, except to let his hoof down. He stood there, shifting around in a half-hearted battle stance. His expression was a mixture between shocked and furious, but most notably of all, he did not seem like he knew what to do. Celestia had never, ever seen the stallion without a measure of confidence – he always had a plan, and always knew how to execute it. Now, he simply looked lost.

Beneath Reverie’s vice grip, Cotton was softly whimpering. Her eyes strayed downwards, looking at the dagger embedded in her shoulder.

“Your town ‘hero’ just stuck you with a knife, dear,” Reverie whispered into Cotton’s ear. “Be sure to thank him for that later.”

Reverie threw her head back, and laughed. “Haha! In any case, thank you for the weapon, Commander.” She extended her reach over to Cotton’s shoulder, nudging the hilt of the dagger. “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow it for a moment.”

With a sudden motion, Reverie mercilessly wrenched the blade out of Cotton’s shoulder, making an arc of blood trail through the air. Cotton cried out in shrill protest. Though she tried to suppress it, through her whimpers and hyperventilation, she let out stifled sobs of pain, allowing tears of anguish to roll down her cheeks.

“Oh, hush now, my dear,” Reverie gently crooned, patting the bottom of Cotton’s chin. “Put on a brave face for the crowd, won’t you…?”

Reverie raised the steel to her throat, and began shuffling away from Celestia, and the onlooking crowd of soldiers and diplomats, towards the back end of the courtroom. She motioned for Lucky to do the same.

Grudgingly, expression still locked with indecision, he mirrored her movements, strafing to keep a safe distance from her, though still looking just as lost. Both of them had to dodge around the unmoving bodies of downed soldiers strewn across the floor.

The wound on Cotton’s shoulder was bleeding profusely now, with the dagger dislodged. A pool of smearing blood formed wherever Reverie walked, coming from both Cotton, and her own leg wound.

Eventually, she had circled around far enough to face them, and Lucky had taken a place beside Celestia. Cotton’s head bobbed around unstably, but whenever it fell too far forward, Reverie would push it back up, exposing her neck to the dagger. Celestia looked towards them, feeling in much the same way that Lucky looked: lost, confused, and unsure of what to do.

Cotton’s eyes darted around, and finally came to rest on her. They were full of concern, not for herself, but for Celestia.

“Reverie!” Celestia suddenly cried. “What’s wrong? Why are you doing this?!”

Reverie stopped. “What’s wrong?” She looked around, as if to ask somepony else to confirm what she had heard. “What’s wrong?” Her face was fearful, and her gaze returned to Celestia.

“Yeah, I’ve just been having problems, you know? I was the youngest Adept, but now I’m the only Adept, and Clover the Clever just expects so much of me! It’s hard, you know? Plus, my coltfriend just dumped me because I’m so ugly, and I’ve been struggling with all these emotions, and…”

“…and I don’t know if I can ever find a love like him again, because he was just… he was just so…”

“Hahaha! No, okay, no, I can’t do it, I’m sorry! It’s just too much! You ponies and your stupid little problems!” She struggled to speak, intermittently letting the laughter break up her words. She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Ahhh… Celestia? Don’t you know?”

“No? Oh, bother, you’re dumber than you look. Let’s hope your will is stronger than your intellect, otherwise this’ll be just completely boring! Let’s hope it’s stronger than this little mare’s, anyways. Oh, Reverie thought she was tough, but push the right buttons…”

Reverie shook her head. “It’s amazing what fillyhood fears will do to even an adult. She had a sister, you know, briefly. Reverie did. She was so excited to have a new little sister, it was all she wanted for so long. But when mommy gave birth, poor widdle baby had a defect; the rainbow mane that ran in both sides of the family was completely greyscale. Grey! Can you believe my luck?”

She chuckled, greater laughter seeming to burst at the seams. “The grey wasn’t just unsightly though; it was indicative of a disease. Soon enough, poor baby died. And you know what Reverie here took away from that? A fear of the color grey. Hahaha! Can you believe that?” Reverie’s shoulders heaved as she laughed insanely. “Oh, she grew up, she moved on, but in the back of her mind, the color grey always made her cringe. Did you know she didn’t like looking at you, Lucky? She subconsciously avoided you for that reason, when she served in the Battalion. Not because you are a famous jerk, though, I’m sure she didn’t forget that either.”

“Hahaha… a childish fear of the color grey. I don’t think I could’ve asked for an opportunity greater. Oh, but enough riddles. Celestia, my dear, you offend me. You could at least call me by my proper name!” She waited, and watched as Celestia just stared.

“No? Nothing? I certainly remember you. C’mon, filly, it’s your old pal Discord!”

A bolt of hot lightning seared through her head, and a ringing filled her ears. She put a hoof to her temple, and closed her eyes in pain.

He was in a twisted version of Reverie’s body, he spoke with a twisted version of Reverie’s voice, but this was undoubtedly the Mad God himself.

“Oh, yes, now you remember. I can see it on your face.” Discord frowned. “You know what else I see? You, Lucky, reaching for that crossbow.” He shook Reverie’s head. “That’s a bad idea, and let me tell you why.”

“Just stop!” Celestia suddenly cried, opening her eyes and stomping her hoof down.

“Oh, good idea!” Reverie’s horn glowed, and across the room, in front of the rioting crowd, the single exit door once again closed. Judging by the panicked cries of those at the front of the crowd, it would not reopen. “There. Now I have a… heh, a captive audience.”

Only about half the crowd, both spectators and diplomats, had been able to escape. The rest all turned back to face Discord.

His voice, Reverie’s voice, became loud enough for everybody to hear. “Now, let me tell you why you should all just shut up and pay attention. First off, if you don’t, this mare will die. I assure you, she won’t look so adorable when her entrails have become her extrails.”

He pulled Cotton tighter and brandished his dagger, as if to accentuate his point. Celestia cried out in protest, but was silenced by a warning look from Discord.

“Second, I know some of you are charging banishment spells. Let me tell you that, one, you have poor taste, if you don’t care that such a cute little unicorn dies in the process, and two, you have poor taste if you don’t care that my messenger here will die as well. She is quite beautiful as well, you know, even without the addition of my ravishing charms. That’s why I’m going to release her as soon as I’m done delivering my message. See, I’m not so bad, right?” He waited for a moment, even though it was obvious nobody would respond.

“Oh, and one more thing, just in case any of you are still feeling heroic: a few blocks away, there is a hospital. Canterlot General. I’m sure you are all familiar with it.”

Discord gave a wide smile. “It’s a wonderful building, isn’t it? Let’s be honest, though. It’s a bit on the bland side. All that boring white stone. And that purple accent? Puh-lease! I think it could use some sprucing up, and, well, I’m sure I don’t need to tell any of you that my creativity can be quite… explosive.”

He giggled at the subdued murmurs of his audience. “Yes, I’ve taken the liberty of placing some cannon compression at the base of the hospital’s foundation. To the tune of one-hundred cannons’ worth. Or was it one-thousand?”

The crowd seemed to take a collective gasp, frightfully talking amongst themselves.

Discord shrugged. “You all get the picture. Now, like I said, I think some remodeling is in order, but if you ponies insist… I can leave well enough alone. But!” he added, brandishing his weapon towards them, “If any of you so much as sneezes out of place, well… my opinion is easily swayed, when it comes to redecoration.” He bobbed his eyebrows. “And don’t any of you silly unicorns try to send any telepathic messages to the outside. If I sense anypony trying to neutralize the compression, I’ll blow it before they can do anything about it. If it comes to that, I assure you, the morgue will receive the remains of a thousand dead ponies in a thousand tiny matchboxes. If their remains can be found at all.”

He fell silent, still brandishing the dagger at Cotton’s throat. Her struggle, injured and bleeding as she was, was minimal. Still, despite her still present blood loss, she clung to consciousness.

The crowd began to murmur, collectively pressed against the far wall, huddling to get as far away from the demon as they possibly could. The only creatures that stood out were Celestia, Lucky, and the immobile soldiers scattered on the floor around them. It was at this point that Celstia could see that some of them were dead. Her eyes found Apple Crumble, lying motionless against one wall. From this distance, and with his red coat, it was impossible to tell if he was bleeding, and if so, where.

The voice was not afraid, but rather defiant. Celestia looked behind her. Towering above most others in the room was the creature that had walked in with Cotton. Its accent did not throw Celestia off, but she was surprised that it spoke in the first place. Its timbre, and perhaps even its size, seemed to indicate that it was, in fact, male. He pointed a device downrange, holding it steadily in line with one opened eye. Celestia could only guess at its design. It almost looked like a miniaturized cannon; was it some sort of ranged weapon?

“Ah! Joseph! So glad you could make it!” Discord seemed genuinely pleased. “You look well!” He bobbed his head to the sides. “Eh, well, sort of. Ah, who am I kidding? You look pretty bad, to be honest, and…” He sniffed the air. “And you smell like stinking horse. Mixed with grease, of course. But some things never change, do they?”

“What do you want?” he repeated emphatically. There was a tiny, metallic click as he moved his thumb across a lever on his weapon.

Discord nonchalantly motioned to the gun. “You did hear what I said about the whole… killing this innocent mare. You heard that, right? Did I stutter? Oh, I’m not very good with words, maybe I can just teach by example-”

“Don’t touch her!” Joseph yelled. Discord raised an eyebrow towards him, and he put his hands up, weapon dangling loosely on his finger. “Okay, I’m… I’m putting it down.”

“No.” Discord shook his head. “Better idea. Throw it over here.” He motioned with a hoof, flicking towards himself. “Yeah. C’mon.”

Joseph looked ruefully at the device, and then crouched low, sliding it across the marble floor. When it was close enough, Discord levitated it the rest of the way, making it hover next to him.

“You already know what I want, ol’ Joe. Or is it Coffee, now? Funny mistranslation, that.”

“But you already know what I want. I already told you.” Discord shrugged innocently, and shook his head. “I just want to deliver a message, that’s all. I just want to talk. Now, I originally wanted to talk to her,” he said, pointing to Celestia, “but you can go first, if you’re so eager.”

Discord looked towards the device, and smirked. “This gun. The .44 magnum, if I am not mistaken. The most powerful handgun in the world…” He looked at Joseph, and pointed. “Is this that very same one?”

“It is, isn’t it? Oh, that’s wonderful, Joe! I can’t believe you held onto it after all this time! Oh, the memories! Good times, goo-ooooood times. I’ll bet you can’t wait to show it off to all your engineer buddies. ‘The God of Chaos held this very gun… twice!’ you can say.

“Oh wait…” He paused. “You don’t have any engineer friends. Well, I’m sure it would go well in a museum, even if it is just strangers appreciating it… oh wait, there’s none of those either. That’s okay, you can always just tell your wife- Oh, man, hang on. Did I kill her too?”

Joseph’s expression grew even darker, staring unflinchingly into Discord’s eyes. Nevertheless, he held his peace.

“Wwwowzers! Dear Concordia, I’m ruthless! I’m sorry, Joe. Real sorry. That’s a tough bit of luck, right there. Here, how’s about I tell you a bit of good news? Huh? Will that lighten you up?”

Discord looked at the gun, magically opening the chamber and checking the ammunition. “Two bullets. That’ll do.” He flipped it closed again. “The good news is: the Arch-Mage’s deal expired just a few weeks ago!”

“Which means we can do this!” He took the revolver, spun the chamber against Cotton’s head, and pressed the barrel to her temple. “Roulette! Remember? Just like old times. Only this time, just to switch it up a bit, I’ll let you choose who plays. You,” he motioned to Joseph, “or her?” He motioned to Cotton.

Joseph froze up, and began to breathe heavily. “What do you mean, a few weeks?”

Discord ignored him. “Tick tock, Coffee-boy, I’ll just shoot both of you if you don’t-”

“If you touch her, I will not rest until I’ve ended your miserable existence!”

“Do you mean more than I already am?” He craned his head over Cotton’s shoulder and looked down at her front, as if to double-check. “I’m kind of already touching her, Joe-bro.”

Discord squinted at him. He rolled the gun noncommittally in the air. “So that means…”

Discord smiled. “Well alright then.” He directed the gun towards Joseph. “That’s quite the devotion you have there. Do I sense a zesty, cross-species romance?”

“Language, Joseph, language! I’m not one to judge. Love will find a way, and all that.”

He guffawed. “Oh calm down, I’m only kidding! And don’t be such a coward, stop with the shaking. Or wait… is that fear, or resentment? Eh, doesn’t matter. Its two to four, the odds are in your favor.”

He pulled the trigger. The hammer drew back, the chamber revolved, and the only result was a tiny metallic click. Joseph let out a held breath, relaxing his clenched fists.

There was a click, a bang, and a bright yellow flash. Celestia flinched, ducking away, as did the rest of the crowd. Her ears screamed in protest, synchronous with the ringing that was already there. If lightning had struck only yards away, the thunder would have been no louder than the deafening crack of the device.

When she dared to look back up, the creature was lying back to the ground, a bleeding wound in the center of his chest. He did not make any movements.

“Or not.” Discord sighed, and shrugged. “Pity. And thus ends the hieyumanite legacy.”

Celestia’s body buzzed with shock and aggression. Another being had just been murdered in cold blood, right in front of her eyes. It had been a strange, foreign creature, but living and speaking and thinking nonetheless. He had a soul, and her body and mind seemed to know it. Adrenaline pumped through her system, and between the choices of fight or flight, the response was undoubtedly fight.

At the sound of the gunshot, Cotton’s head had flicked up, and her eyes fluttered, but she still did not seem to take note of the events around her. Just as quickly, she fell limp again.

A pony that Celestia recognized as Red Cross rushed up to the fallen hieyuman, and performed a speedy examination. He quickly began first aid, ripping a strip of cloth off of his own white coat and getting somepony else to press against the wound. From out of a coat pocket, he retrieved some tools, most noticeably a pair of long pliers, and began to work with the injury, his horn glowing intermittently as his hooves dug around the flesh.

Across the room, Discord was shifting around with his hostage, reminded of her injury, which still bled profusely. “Oh no, my dear, can’t have you bleeding out…”

Cotton’s wound was enveloped in a swathe of grey magic. When it faded, she was no longer bleeding, but there was in place a large, ugly scar, just under her right shoulder, between her arm and her ribs.

Eventually, Discord continued. “I suppose I’d better get on with it, huh? Don’t have long until one of you just snaps!” A few ponies jumped at the sudden syllable. He laughed. “Ahahaha! Ahhh, pardon me. Let’s see, how do I begin… Well, first off, thank you all for coming, it’s a pleasure to be here today.”

“Now, I’m not so different from all of you. Griffons, hounds, zebras, ponies, and you ugly little sub-pony things. I came to see the alicorn.” He pointed at random individuals in the crowd, moving his hoof on each syllable. “Just. Like. You.

“But I thought, you know, since I’m here, I might as well… make an entrance.” Discord swept an arm to the side, and bowed the best he could while still keeping Cotton restrained.

“And, again, since I’m here, and since you have been such generous hosts, I hope you’ll forgive me if I spout some facts at you. You see, it’s just that those war reports of yours, they are… well, they’re no good. I was listening in, and it just bugged me, you know? You ponies are supposed to be the particular ones! You shouldn’t need me to put you in your place when it comes to facts and figures!”

He shook his head. “Disappointing. You see, the problem is, you pathetic creatures think you are winning. Winning! I know, that’s crazy, right?”

He waited for someone to speak. Lacking any other reaction, he grabbed Cotton’s head, and forced it to nod up and down. “Crazy,” Discord muttered out of the corner of his mouth in a mock female voice. Cotton merely moaned.

“Would you just let her go?” Lucky suddenly shouted. “You have your bombs, there’s no reason to keep a hostage!”

Discord paused, casting Lucky a strange look. “Oh, but there is,” he hissed. “See, I am aware that some ponies in this room think I’m bluffing about that. I can see that you think that, Lucky Break. I’ll tell you now, I’m not, but keeping little Miss Cake here gives me some insurance. Besides, even for those that believe me, this makes the threat tangible, credible. Makes it more real, you know, for those ponies that learn hooves-on.”

He gave a small smile. “Besides, it’s nice, a bit of closeness every now and again. Little Cotton here is just so easy to love.” He pulled Cotton’s head close and gave her a huge, dramatic kiss on the cheek, smacking his lips as he drew away and looking at Celestia the whole time. Cotton could do nothing in protest. Lucky gave a low growl, but it was no fiercer than Celestia’s, who nearly roared with rage behind clenched teeth.

“Ahaha! And it’s too fun to watch your reactions! You ponies, you’re so easy to provoke!” Discord guffawed. Eventually, his laughter came to a contented sigh.

“So, back on topic. You think you’re winning, and even Cotton agrees, that’s just crazy. Let’s fix this little problem, shall we?” He cleared his throat, as if in preparation for a great speech.

He paused. “Steamrolling. That’s a hieyuman term. And they’re all dead, so that’s no good. Hmm. What’s a better word… crushing! Yes, crushing.”

He cleared his throat a second time. “My army is crushing your army!” he boldly declared. “We may be at a stalemate for now, but ask yourselves: how long until checkmate? My hordes grow day by day, increasing by the thousands. For every fallen sinisteed, two more appear to take its place. Youngling manticores join the ranks daily, timberwolves are summoned from the chaos-choked forests. Minotaurs are… well, to be honest, minotaurs breed fairly slowly. But you can’t seem to kill them anyways.” He shrugged.

“Meanwhile, somewhere in Equestria, a foal is born. He or she learns how to be a proper pony. They are taught how to farm, bake, sew, control weather, and the like. They are taught all about harmony, how to pray, who to pray to, what to pray for. Sixteen years later, they are permitted to join the army, if they so choose. Two years after that, they are drafted. Three months later, the still green recruit is sent off to the frontlines. One week later, they enter a real battle, maybe one of those impossible defenses you ponies so like to partake in. At that point, all the prayers in the world will not prevent their death.

“Elsewhere, in Aquileos, a griffon is born. He or she is taught how to be a proper griffon, is taught how to track, how to hunt, how to kill, how to properly gut the meat of their prey. They are taught to bring honor to their family. Thirteen years later, they are required to join the army, and they do so gladly. Three months later, the recruit is sent off to combat. His or her upbringing served them well. It’s maybe…” Discord bobbed Reverie’s head back and forth. “Two or three weeks later before they bite off more than they can chew. At that point, all the hunting experience in the world will not prevent their death.

“In the Southern Deserts, a filthy, disgusting, sub-pony donkey thing is spawned…”

“Your soldiers are weak!” Lucky Break stepped forward, a defiant snarl on his lips. “One of your feeble sinisteeds would never match up to a true soldier!”

“Oh! Commander, I didn’t even see you there!” Discord said. “I certainly agree with you. A sinisteed regular would be no match for you. Even their chance against a fresh recruit is questionable. But think, mister military strategist, think of the numbers…”

Celestia thought she saw Lucky’s composure falter, but if it did, he recovered quickly.

“Don’t you?” Discord grinned, letting the question sit for a moment. “And if not fear, then what? Verbose, angry veterans, whose only talent is ‘war’? And yet, looking around this room, I count only…”

He looked at the crowd, muttering under his breath while pointing at the crowd, counting. He then drew back, looked at the ceiling in thought, presumably adding numbers. Eventually, his gaze swiveled back to Lucky.

“I can replace my soldiers in months. No raising, minimal breeding, minimal training… As your veterans outlive their usefulness, or more likely, as they die on the battlefield, they are replaced with cute little fresh-faced recruits. I, on the other hoof, produce soldiers faster than you can say ‘we’re all going to die’. Every day, it’s another hundred beasts, fresh from the black mist of the Astral Mountains.” He laughed. “And you don’t even know how!”

“War is more than some meat grinder you can throw your troops into!” Lucky protested. “War requires tactic, cunning!”

“Yes, well, good luck with that,” Discord said, nodding to Joseph’s unmoving body, still being frantically administered to by Doctor Cross, as well as a zebra who held a potion glass in her hoof.

He growled furiously, and stomped a defiant hoof on the marble. “The Maiden’s Battalion will stop you!”

“Ah, yes, the Maiden’s Battalion. Battling Ponyville’s avengers was always a spectacular treat. Those particular ponies treat war the way it is meant to be treated – like an art form. You should feel proud for showing that kind of respect, Commander. And those battle plans… gods, those battle plans!” Discord seemed as though he wanted to swoon, and he might have, had his arms not been burdened by a hostage.

“Do you remember the one with the storm clouds, and you guys pushed a wave of thunderhead clouds in our direction? And the resulting forest fire destroyed the timberwolves, and drove the manticores away? Then, the clouds rained and put out the fires so you could advance! And you stormed the sinisteed encampment, because without their beasts, they didn’t have the support…” He trailed off, looking at Lucky’s stony expression. “No? I would have thought for sure… Ah, never mind.”

He shrugged. “Well, you know, it’s always a pleasure, but a little birdy told me that your particular division has been running somewhat low on soldiers. One in particular.”

At this, Discord laughed. It was a horrible, grating sound, made even more so by its suddenness and volume.

“Is that so?!” he nearly screamed. His voice lowered. “Well, you simply must let me help you create the new recruitment posters. Here, I’ve got the perfect catchphrase.” He swept his hoof high across the air. “On the top of the banner, it says, ‘The Equestrian Army! Do your duty!’”

He giggled a little, before continuing. “And… heheh, heh, on the bottom, it says, ‘The 21st Division! Come for the slaughter! Stay because you’re a corpse!’”

“Face it, Commander,” Discord said his glee slowly dying down. “Your morale is broken… and your holy knight, slain.”

Lucky appeared to be nearly frozen, his only movement being the deep expansion and contraction of his lungs, and the flaring of his nostrils.

“Sure, sure, one day, old colt. We’ll have an epic showdown, a duel of fates, whatever you want.” He sighed. “Oh Lucky, my boy, it’s so easy to manipulate you. It’s sad, really. Well, almost. Mostly it’s just fun. Speaking of, what do you say we end this with a bang?” Discord levitated the revolver, re-spun the chamber, and brandished it in full view.

“One bullet left. You or her?” He jostled Cotton in his arms. “Think about it. You’ve gotta ask yourself, punk: do I feel… heheh… do I feel… haha! No, no, it’s too much, I’m sorry. Just hurry up and choose.”

To Celestia’s surprise, Lucky was silent for a moment. The mask of anger was still painted clearly on his face, but he seemed to be contemplating something. Finally, he spoke.

“Is that so?” Discord spun the revolver chamber. “Well then.” He eased the barrel up to the side of Cotton’s head. She was still barely conscious, but if she knew at all what was going on, she did not show it.

Celestia was dumbfounded. Her anger left her, replaced with sudden, horrible panic.

She stumbled towards him, not knowing what to do except plead. But what could she plead for? For him to offer his own life, instead of Cotton’s? Did she even have the right to ask that? He was, without a doubt, more important to the war effort than some candy maker, and Celestia knew it. Nevertheless, her unwavering expectation had been for him to choose himself, and when he had not, her heart dropped as though she had missed a step on the staircase. She instinctively protested.

Lucky turned towards her. His expression was still scowling and squinted, but also somehow sad, and disappointed. He turned away, watching with unwavering eyes, and muttering words underneath his breath. The phrases were rapid and unhesitant, as if they had been recited before.

O Tyche, Lady of Fortune, hear my plea. Send thy angel, and exalt my soul. Bless mine ears with discernment, to hear the still whisper.

Celestia watched, horrified, as, for the fifth time, Discord slowly squeezed the trigger with telekinetic force. The chamber slowly revolved, coming in line with the barrel, pointed straight at Cotton’s head. Celestia’s heart stopped, and were it not for her concern, she would likely have fainted.

Lucky stood fast, his face frozen with anxiety. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek as his lips wordlessly moved.

The trigger fell all the way back. A resounding metal click echoed throughout the room. Nothing happened, save for a single bullet revolving to its final spot, ready to fire from the sixth chamber. Celestia and Lucky let out a collectively held breath.

“Well, that was fortunate, wasn’t it…?” Discord trailed off, and gave Lucky an accusing smile. “Oh you! You knew that would happen, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Ah ha ha! Of course you did! You really had me going. Looks like you had her going, too.”

Discord pointed towards Celestia, who stood there, shaking in place, eyes dilated to the size of pinholes.

“What would have happened if you picked yourself? Would’ve gone off first shot, I bet. Right?”

“You can’t fool me, of course it would have!” Discord laughed. “Fate is a strange thing, isn’t it, Lucky? Still, I’m not so sure she’s glad to be alive. Are you sure you did her a favor?” He looked at Cotton, toying with the dagger in his hoof. “Oh, drat. She wasn’t even conscious to see your… heh, heroic deeds. No matter, we can fix that.”

Without warning, the crackle of electricity filled the room as an arc of grey lightning shot from Discord’s horn, hitting the hostage in her arms. It laced through both of them, and if the scorch marks on either of their coats were any indication, their contact ensured they both felt an equal amount of pain. Nevertheless, Discord let loose an insane laugh as Cotton screamed, jumping to a sudden, anguished awareness of self.

The lightning came to a stop. Cotton’s breathing came out in rapid, uneven, high pitched pants. She squirmed weakly against Discord’s hooves.

“Oh, did the pain wake you up, my dear?” Discord asked with mock concern. She jostled Cotton in her arms, who whimpered in protest. “Well, here’s something to remember,” he whispered menacingly. “It’s the only thing that can.”

He cackled as he let loose another few seconds of lightning. The protests of Lucky, Celestia, and others from the crowd, were lost amidst the snaps and pops of raging electricity. Eventually, it died down, leaving only a crying Cotton.

“Oh shush-sh-sh-sh-shhhh…” Discord stroked the side of Cotton’s face. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It hurts, I know, but think of it this way: this will probably be the strongest feeling you’ll ever experience. Pain, misery, despair… the most vivid emotions a pony can feel… and right now, they’re all yours.”

Cotton’s head rolled forward, tears still staining her cheeks. Celestia had had enough. She stepped forward.

“Stop this at once! You have a message for me, deliver it! Or by the gods, I will-!”

“What, choke me?” He giggled, and then frowned at Celestia’s lack of response. “What? You ponies have no sense of humor.” He sighed. “Fine, let’s get on with it, then. The reason-”

Celestia looked at him with confusion. He was holding his ear up to Cotton’s drooping head, apparently listening to something she had to say.

Discord raised an eyebrow, but kept his ear close. “No what, my little pony?”

“You’re wrong,” Cotton’s voice was an airy, raspy soprano, and barely audible. She shook her head. It was a feeble motion, and her head seemed to move on a delay with her neck. She shook nonetheless.

“You think despair...” She paused, taking a few deep, wheezing breaths before continuing. “...Is the most powerful fe-” Her voice suddenly dropped, and she lightly coughed.

“No…!” she cried in whispering protest. Her voice cracked. It sounded almost pitiful.

Cotton’s eyes lit up with conviction, a severe, inspiring contrast from her beaten, broken condition.

**********

Somewhere, a blue gemstone awakened from deep slumber.

**********

Cotton’s eyes fluttered to a close, and her head drooped forward once again. Her mane bounced in front of her eyes, obscuring the sudden inactivity in her face. She was deeply unconscious. No amount of pain would wake her from this sleep.

“You know what I think?” Discord whispered, once it was apparent Cotton could not speak further. “I think you’re wrong.”

He patted Cotton on the shoulder, and finally released her from his grip. She fell limply to the floor in front of him. He fell forward onto his forelegs, stretching out the cramps that came with restraining a hostage.

“So where was I?” Discord asked, nonchalantly brushing at his shoulder. It did little to remove the blood and dust that was there. Suddenly, he thrust a hoof in the air. “Ah yes! Of course, how silly of me! It’s only the whole reason I came here!”

He took a few steps forward over Cotton’s body, leaned in, and gave a menacing smile, looking very much like a stalking predator. When he spoke, it was through gritted, grinning teeth, growling and drawing out the vowels.

She took a step back, eyes shifting from Cotton to the mare addressing her. Any resemblance he had borne to Reverie was almost completely gone. Her mane had turned completely, utterly grey, and the crème of her coat likewise. Her face was contorted into a twisted, ungodly grin, the corners of her lips seeming to stretch off her cheeks. It was an expression no pony could naturally make. Her cutie mark, the rainbow behind the star, was colorless and almost seemed to be fading. All in all, she simply looked sickly, even ugly and grotesque, like the victim of some terrible plague.

“You…” Discord wagged a hoof at Celestia, shaking his head. “You, my dear, are so very, very special. Do you know that?”

Celestia gulped, summoning all the courage she could muster. “Is that why you tried to kill me? You didn’t do a very good job.”

Discord let out a bark of laughter. “Haha! And spirited, too! Oh, good, good! Not many ponies are! I mean, I saw you choke the crap out of that snobby princess what’s-her-name, but talking back to the Mad God… wonderful. How very fortunate, that you have some backbone. Makes things much more interesting.”

He brought his dagger up to his teeth, using it to pick the spaces in between them. “Not to toot my own horn, or anything, but I think I did an excellent job, Celestia. You just did a better one escaping.” He smiled. “But to answer your question, I’d have to say yes and no. You are special, yes, but I didn’t try to kill you because of it. I tried to kill you because back then, I thought you were going to be utterly mundane. Normal. Commonplace. Run-of-the-mill. Boring, just like all the rest.” He chuckled, bringing the steel away from his teeth. “Oh, my dear Celestia… you turned out to be anything but.”

Celestia opened her mouth to speak, but he thrust a hoof towards her. “Wait, I know what you’re wondering. Can’t I kill you now? The answer is ‘yes’, my little pony, I could. Maybe this body would die in the process, but I could.”

“But I won’t. You know why that is, Celestia? Because it’s hopeless. You are hopeless. You’re just special enough to pique my interest, but not special enough to be a threat. You simply cannot harm me. Ah, ah, ah, I can see that in your eyes, you think I’m lying.”

“I’m really, really, really not, Celestia.” He tapped his chin. “Have you ever had a pet? A cat, a dog, hamster maybe? Ever wave a toy or treat in front of it, putting it just out of reach? It’s fun, right? Don’t look at me like that, of course it’s fun. You’re that pet, Celestia, and the treat I get to hold just out of reach is ‘victory’. I’m going to keep you around because it amuses me.” He gave a low chuckle.

“I know it, I think you’ll eventually know it, and if Oldfart McMagicpants over there was awake, she’d know it too.” He pointed at Clover the Clever, who still lay motionless on the ground in the corner of the room.

“She might have the tools, but not the tools to wield the tools. She came ‘ohhh, so close’,” he said, putting his hooves a minute distance away from each other, “but close just won’t cut it. She might cling to false hope, but at least she sees it for what it is: false.”

“Ah, tactful as always. Why indeed?” He turned around, looking at the empty stands behind him. “Well, this is a courthouse, after all. I am nothing if not a god of equality, of truth.”

He turned back around to face her. “Oho! Wrong, alicorn. I am as truthful as truthful gets. Chaos may be erratic, unpredictable, and tumultuous… but even chaos is formulaic. Chaos is a law of the universe. Mass, matter, energy… they all have very defined interactions with very defined results. They call it ‘entropy’, and, if nothing else, entropy is constant.

“You know what they say about fighting entropy, right?” Discord waited, his smile giving way to a face that was uncharacteristically serious. “Entropy always wins. Rots flesh. Rusts steel. Grinds stone. Eats nations.”

He let the message sit for a moment, before allowing a tiny grin onto his face. “In all honesty, though, do you want to know what else chaos is? Chaos is whimsical. I’m here because it’s fun.”

Discord giggled. “Though, looking at your face, I don’t know if I even have a message to deliver! You of all ponies already seem to know the hopelessness of your situation! I mean, just look around you, Celestia.”

He motioned to the crowd behind her. She turned, and looked at them. Every single one was staring at her. Even with their huddled, frightened postures and their shivering, it was a not a feeling that was foreign to her. The fear in their eyes reflected upon the fear in their hearts – it was a fear of the dark, a fear of the immaterial, the unseen, the unknown, and most of all, the unpredictable.

“Allow me to be the first to say congratulations! You, my dear alicorn, are their new hero. But can I ask you something?” He paused. “Do you feel like a hero? Do you have the abilities of a hero? Can you defeat the monsters on their doorstep, like they very much expect you to?”

Celestia turned away from the crowd. She did not like the looks they were giving her.

“We’ll come back to that. First, let me tell you… a little allegory,” Discord began. “Not so long ago, there was a large beast. He had the horns of a bull, the hooves of a horse, and the stature of a hieyuman. He was a natural creation of the world, not the offspring of chaos, as some believed him to be. He had hopes, dreams, fears… a soul, if you will. He also happened to lead a people, just like him. They called themselves the Minotaurs.

“One day, this minotaur happened upon the ‘peaceful’ race of ponykind. He attempted to treat with them. However, there were some complications, and instead of accepting them, like ponykind could and probably should have, they cast the minotaurs away, refusing to interact with a race they came to call ‘monsters’. Oh, the minotaurs tried to show their true colors, tried to show they were peaceful, but the ponies would have none of it. They were shunned by Equestria, and all of its allies.

“The minotaurs migrated away, and found a new calling… but that’s another story. Do you see the moral here, Celestia?” Discord asked. “Let’s go back to that question before. Can you defeat my… ‘monsters’?” He leaned in, and gave a wide grin. “I’ve heard of your lackluster performance, so let me answer for you, my darling… no, you cannot.”

He leaned away, and chuckled. “Your saving grace, your only saving grace, in the eyes of the people is the fact that you just might be the hero they were looking for. When that illusion is gone, and it is an illusion, what do you suppose will they see?” Discord stopped, looking towards Celestia, waiting for her to respond.

Celestia’s eyes were forlorn and distant. “A monster…” she mumbled to herself.

“A monster!” Discord nearly screamed. “And what does ponykind do to monsters? It casts them out. You will fail, Celestia, and you will be punished for it.” He laughed. “And I can’t wait to watch.”

He turned to face away from them. “But what if you do win? Somehow, against all odds, against the hordes and hopelessness, the mighty Celestia prevails?” His tone was utterly sarcastic. “You can’t undo all the bad, Celestia. And it is bad, Celestia. Tens of thousands of ponies lie dead, torn to pieces by the beasts. Hundreds of acres of grassland and forest are caught in the grip of chaos, some so deeply as to rival the entropy of nothingness itself! So many things lie beyond your reclamation, I wonder why you even bother trying.”

He gave a subdued chuckle. “You have been caught in a cruel reverie, Celestia. Pardon the pun. Heheh… wake up, my dear, and see that life is despair.”

He burst into a wild, out of control laugh. The room seemed to darken, the floor seemed to shake, and more than one creature put its hooves, claws, or paws over its ears. The sound in itself was maddening and painful, like one thousand claws screeching down one thousand chalkboards. Some fell writhing to the ground, curling into a fetal position and rocking back and forth. Some prayed for mercy, and others screamed in fear. To Celestia’s surprise, even Lucky Break was low to the ground, flinching at the laughter. He held his hooves over his ears, and closed his eyes. Was he afraid, too?

The ring of his hilarious shriek was beginning to get to Celestia. She put her head down, and swayed in place; something about it simply made her nauseous. Resonating from a pit in her heart, passing through her stomach and coursing through her entire body, a wretched feeling of misery rattled her body and soul. Her legs trembled – she knew it would not be long before she fell.

She dared one last look up, but could not bear to raise her head very high. Instead of Discord, her eyes fell upon Cotton, still lying on the floor. Miraculously, Cotton’s eyes opened. They did not stay open for long, and they did not open all the way, but they became instantly locked with Celestia’s. The magenta in her eyes seemed vibrant, especially for somepony in such pain. Her lips parted, and she mouthed a single, weak word to Celestia, before submitting again to unconsciousness.

Her legs stopped trembling. She ceased her exhausted swaying. The pit in her heart closed, her stomach ceased to be nauseous, and the pervasive feeling of misery was quelled. She could not make sense of it, but she was suddenly, inexplicably calm.

“Ahahahahaha!” Discord’s hideous laughter carried on. It did not matter. Celestia was in a peculiar state of mind, protected from the horrendous sound and soul-searing despair, and all it took was a word to remind her.

The room was immediately quiet. Even those who were screaming or moaning in pain fell completely silent. It was a tense stillness but, after Discord’s voice, a good one.

Lucky Break rose, and opened his eyes. Beside him was Celestia, still standing tall, head held high, one hoof raised in the air and wings spread wide open.

Discord wheeled around. On his face was an animalistic snarl. Celestia watched it calmly. Eventually, it faded into a sneer.

It was a moment before Celestia spoke. When she did, it was with a calm grace she did not previously think herself capable of.

“Hmm.” Celestia closed her eyes. “You think so.” She opened her eyes again, looking straight at him. “Maybe I am weak, but at least I have ponies that I care about! That care about me! What do you have, Discord?”

Discord grinned playfully. “I have a sandbox called ‘the world’, and thousands of little toys I call ‘my little ponies’.”

“Your ‘toys’ hate you,” Celestia said darkly. “I have friends, Discord. Real friends. We may not always agree, but we can always share a laugh. Who can you share a laugh with, Discord?”

“Who can I-?” Discord’s expression seemed to lighten. “Hah! Laughs need not be shared, alicorn.”

“You think this is something I care about, Celestia? Do you realize how pathetic you sound right now? How inane your argument is?”

He danced in a circle, bobbing a hoof up and down and mocking her. “‘I have friends, you don’t have friends.’ Bah! Saccharine enough to make me gag. If your intention was to kill me by making me choke on my own vomit, I’ll admit, it was a close one.”

He opened his mouth, pointed at his throat, and stuck his tongue out, making a gagging sound.

“But seriously, Celestia, if you’re trying to make me… I don’t know, feel bad, or something, just give it up. That’s my turf. I repeat, having ‘friends’ is not something I care about. Can’t you just swallow your despair like a good little filly?”

Celestia shook her head. “That’s why you’ll never understand. I don’t need to swallow any despair at all.”

“Oh no,” Discord said, shaking his head, “I get it. The smiles, the laughing… you’re deluding yourself. A good shield, but one made of chaos, my dear.”

“No,” Celestia replied. “Not deluding. There’s always a reason to laugh.”

**********

Somewhere, a blue gemstone trembled with anticipation.

**********

“And what do you have to laugh at?!” Discord said with sudden ferocity, spittle flying out of his mouth. “Huh? What? That’s right, nothing! Unless…” He looked at Cotton, and looked back. Grey electricity crackled dangerously on his horn. “Unless you are a fan of… heheh, dark humor?”

“No!” Celestia said loudly, her voice booming throughout the marble courtroom.

Appearing everywhere and coming from nowhere, the room was filled with a brief but intense flash of brilliant blue light. It came and went in a fraction of a second, so fast Celestia was not sure it had even happened.

Celestia continued. “When I came to Canterlot, ponies hated me for who I was. For who I still am. It was horrible. But… not everypony did.”

There was another quick, blue flash, coming from nowhere. Discord seemed to recoil at the sight of it.

“Somepony came and cheered me up, and taught me something. Your despair is fleeting, Discord! Temporary!” She took a confident step forward. “Even behind the clouds, the sun still shines. Even when it rains, there’s a rainbow afterwards. After the fire, life sprouts from the ashes.”

“That very special pony taught me to smile at everything, and with everypony! Things might seem bad. They might be bad. But even in the darkest of times, there is always hope-”

Discord’s eyes snapped to Celestia, his face, Reverie’s face, contorted into an unnatural visage of rage. He started towards her, dagger in hoof.

**********

Somewhere, a blue gemstone lit. The glow about it animated the spirit, striking it with joyous optimism, enough to make even the most calloused and world-weary soul enjoy a good-natured laugh.

**********

A blinding azure light quickly filled the room, and this time, it stayed there. All other sights were gone, replaced by a brilliance that came from nowhere. Similarly, all other sounds were gone, save for a strong whoosh, like a stiff wind rushing past her ears.

It had come suddenly and unexpected, and though she might have been frightened, she was not. Bathing in that blue light, it seemed impossible. While its brightness blinded her to all else, it did not hurt, and she felt no need to squint her eyes. In fact, she kept them wide open, taking in as much as she could. She simply knew it in her heart – everything was going to be okay. She suddenly felt like laughing, and so she did.

It was not sarcastic, or bitter, or humorless, or at another’s expense. It was not anything besides absolutely joyful. It was a beautiful sound, and an even more beautiful feeling.

Eventually, the blue light faded. Eyes open, Celestia could see it disappear into one small corner of the room, near where Clover lay unconscious.

Unable to do anything but stand there and smile, Celestia looked around. The courtroom was just as wrecked as before, broken tables and chairs and bodies littering the floor. Her heart nearly skipped a beat when she saw Discord, still standing there, swaying back and forth in place. Except, Celestia realized, it was not Discord.

Her mane had returned to its normal, warm rainbow hue, and her coat was similarly restored to its cream. Her cutie mark, now a brilliant rainbow of reds and yellows behind a twinkling white star, was clearly visible. Her eyes were locked on Celestia’s. No, it was not Discord that stood before her. It was Adept Reverie. Or rather, just Reverie; she did not appear very poised at the moment.

She swayed in place and, though it seemed for a moment as though she would remain upright, she crashed to the ground, the dagger clattering away from her hoof. Celestia gave thought to running to her aid, but for some reason, could not muster the energy to do so. In fact, she felt very much as though she would follow suit, and fall to the ground.

Feeling her strength drain by the second, she turned to view the rest of the courthouse. At her back, the crowd of ponies, zebras, diamond dogs, griffons, and donkeys all stood facing her. All eyes were, once again, on her. Even Lucky Break, who was inching cautiously towards her, seemed to eye her with suspicion.

She did not have the energy to discern their expressions, but she did not care. Celestia closed her eyes. She knew herself, and at this moment, she did, as Cotton had admonished, feel good about her. Let them say what they would-

She looked towards the direction of the sound. It was Lucky, standing only a few feet away. His head was tilted, and he looked curious, but his soft words were clear to everyone in the room.

**********

Celestia reached for her cup, and realized it was out of tea. She levitated the teapot, and swishing it around, realized it was empty as well. There was nothing with which she could hide the happy, trembling smile on her lips, no excuse for pause. She settled for rising from her chair and turning away from her student, pretending to examine some nearby bookshelf.

Twilight watched the princess intently. She had seen the trembling, melancholy smile on her lips, and it made her wonder. There was more to it than simple nostalgia.

Celestia played with the bindings of a random book, nudging the cover open and shut, watching the pages follow suit.

“The rest of the room was silent, but that’s what he called me. A hero...”

The Stranger and Her Friend

by TheUrbanMoose

XVI: Who Banished Fear