//------------------------------// // Chap. 18 - Muse on the Loose // Story: Genealogy - (or the Mating Habits of Nocturnes Pegasi) // by Georg //------------------------------// Genealogy - (or The Mating Habits of Nocturnes Pegasi) Muse on the Loose Lilac Breeze stood stoically outside the door he had been commanded to guard, wings tucked back along his Guard armor, armored hooves planted firmly, eyes tracked straight forward, and ears… trying not to hear the anguished cries of his partner who had been dragged inside that terrible door. The cries had been getting weaker, and the Night Pegasus guard gave a quick prayer to the stars that he was not feeling any pain. It could have easily been a door leading to some hideous alternate dimension where blood flowed in rivers, and eldritch abominations flew through the night, seeking the souls of the living. Lilac Breeze kind-of wished it was. His normal evening Night Guard assignment was a nice, quiet archway in the south wing of the castle, standing in front of a locked door that never opened. His heart nearly exploded in fear as the horrible door opened with a bang and the discarded armor of the poor wretch came tumbling out, much as a cruel predator would discard a lobster shell after consuming the delicate flesh inside. The heartless bastard of an officer who had assigned him this hellish post came strolling over to casually nudge the discarded armor with one hoof, tapping gently at a latch which had been bent nearly in half when the fearsome beasts had peeled the poor Royal Guard. Labored breathing sounded behind Lilac, a raspy troubled wheeze of the terminally ill or mortally mangled, accompanied by a low, dragging sound of hooves across floorboards. Closer and closer it came behind him, until his former guard partner emerged back into the soft moonlight. The naked guard collapsed into a quivering heap with his membranous wings wrapped around himself after he crossed the threshold, as if that were some invisible line across which the monsters inside could not cross. “Oh stars above! The horror, the HORROR!” “She get you with the measuring tape too?” asked Pumpernickel with a roll of his eyes. “YES! They measured… everything!” The stalwart Royal Guard, who was pledged to protect the Diarchy to his dying breath, curled up into a ball like a newborn foal. “So cold…” Hoof warmers, thought Pumpernickel, as he marked another entry onto the theoretical wedding gift registry. His entire collection of sisters had vanished into the boutique several hours ago and still he had not heard a word from them. It was as if—he shuddered in fear—they were collaborating with Laminia. The Rye family had a very Traditional family investment plan. Whenever a wedding approached, the entire family investment portfolio would become ‘tied up in long term investments,’ leaving any prospective couple who had foolishly planned on the family buying a giant room-sized cake, eating day-old doughnuts instead. Pumpernickel had been very frugal with his own income in much the same way. Once the Traditional percentage had been given to his family, the remainder had been unceremoniously thrown into a well-managed mutual fund and ignored. His recent withdrawal had been the first, and although there was still a surprisingly substantial amount remaining to throw a wedding, his sisters would look at the remaining bits as a goal to be reached, not avoided. “P-permission to be relieved,” gasped Lieutenant Pansy, feebly attempting to grab onto Pumpernickel’s armored leg. It felt good to be wrapped in steel again. The first order he had given when he was placed in command of the boutique’s security cordon was to send back to Canterlot for his replacement armor, and in a fit of possible insanity (or inspiration, only time would tell) he requested several of his own sisters along with a certain number of other personnel. In particular he had sent an immediate request within the ranks of the Royal Guard, Night Division for all of the ‘est’ that could be found. Fattest, skinniest, thinnest, strongest, longest, tallest, every body type that could be found among Princess Luna’s subjects. Lt. Pansy was, of course, the lightest, in more ways than one. “Just a moment, Lieutenant. Your relief should be along in just— ah, there he is now.” Both door guards stiffened, Lt. Pansy leaping to his hooves and standing bolt upright next to his partner with a look of abject terror replacing his look of shocked horror. Striding out of the chariot parking area was a powerful-looking earth pony whose chestnut coat and stark-white mane overlaid a body which could only be described as ‘big’ if mountains could be described as ‘somewhat large.’ Whole generations of Royal Academy Cadets had passed under his flinty gaze while being driven through forced marches, calisthenics, close order drill, formations, and obstacle courses with him trotting backwards at their side, never missing a step or shout. Rumors of his origin ranged from a rather practical ‘Forged out of discarded weapons and broken dreams by Princess Celestia in an ancient forge at the bottom of a volcano’ to the outlandish ‘Son of the Royal Canterlot Archive Librarian, Miss Pince-Nez(*).’ There had even been a short-lived tendency of the Academy Cadets to make ‘Drill Sgt. Chert’ jokes, followed by a long-lived tendency of jokers carrying heavy rocks around the camp in their idle hours. “Alright, maggot,” snarled Sergeant Chert as he walked(1) up to Pumpernickel. “I hope this is worth losing a couple hours of beauty sleep, or some worthless piece of slime is going to be clipping the assembly yard with a pair of tweezers. Again.” “Good to see you, Drill Sergeant,” said Pumpernickel with a nod and a smile. “The Royal Hoofmaiden is currently engaged in a very important project that I have been delegated to assist. They are designing the new uniform for the Night Guard, and I have been providing them with—” Pumpernickel glanced back at the two frightened Guards “—volunteers.” “What do you think you are doing, maggot!” snapped Chert as he dropped an iron gaze upon a shaking Lt. Pansy. “Just why are you out of uniform? You have until I finish talking with this pathetic waste of perfectly good skin to get properly dressed and ready for inspection or there will be Tartarus to pay. Move it! Move it!” Turning back Pumpernickel with a snarl, he snapped, “How did an incompetent piece of trash like you get assigned to a job of this importance?” “The Princess told the Commander, the Commander told me.” He sighed. “What I really need is somepony with organizational skills to supervise the Royal Guard volunteers who are being measured for the designer. There seems to be some reluctance among the ranks.” The door to the boutique popped open and a cheerful voice called out, “Next!” Lilac Breeze froze in wide-eyed terror. Trapped between the Drill Sergeant in front, and the unknown horror behind, his mind was suddenly made up by a familiar gravelly bellow. “Ten-HUT! About face, maggot ! Forward march! Hup! Hup! Hup! Hup! Not you, maggot! Dress, now!” The half-dressed Lt. Pansy stopped trying to edge away and resumed donning his armor in a panic, watching his partner march helplessly into the boutique. “Oooo. Look at him, girls! Now that’s a stallion!” In a matter of moments, the entire doorway was filled with Night Pegasus mares, all with the same hungry look. “Hey big brother, who’s your hunky friend?” “Somepony tell me he’s next.” “Pinch me, I must be in Elysian Fields.” “I just love redheads.” “Look at the size of his hooves!” “Ladies!” said Sergeant Chert with an expression Pumpernickel had never seen on his face before. At one time in the Academy, it had been rumored that if Sgt. Chert were to smile, an angel somewhere would burst into flames and die. If so, there were at least a half-dozen on fire now from the smile that lit his face. “Is there anything I can do for you tonight?” Pumpernickel instinctively cringed, turning away and trying not to listen to the suggestions his sisters promptly produced(2). Never going to introduce them to Cloud Kicker, never, ever, no! “Oh, girls?” Laminia’s dulcet tones coming out of the boutique made Pumpernickel’s grin return. In the last few hours, it had become obvious that she was having the time of her life, and he was starting to get a little nervous that the attitude might rub off on his sisters in the process. “A little help back here? He’s trying to get out the window!” His sisters vanished from the doorway in their normal disorganized gaggle, and the door slammed shut. The sergeant’s smile vanished just as fast, his face snapping back into its normal scowl like underlying springs were under terrific tension. “What are you grinning at, maggot!” Pumpernickel just sighed and shook his head, the short bristles of his mane making a familiar and friendly brushing noise against his armor. “Sergeant, I would like to ask you for a favor. Could I get you to stay with my sisters for this evening and keep the lads under control? I promise, I’ll pay you back.” “Well, rookie…” The burly earth pony scratched his own short-cropped mane. “Since you seem so far over your head, I suppose somepony has to keep them in line. Accepted. Now if you will excuse me.” Sergeant Chert shouldered his way into the boutique like a minotaur through a china shop, bellowing before the door had even closed. “GET DOWN OFF THAT WINDOW, SOLDIER AND ACT LIKE A STALLION! THAT’S RIGHT MAGGOT! INSPECTION TIME, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW! Ten-HUT” Then in a much softer voice after the clattering of panic-stricken hooves had died down, “Okay ladies, he’s all yours.” Pumpernickel tried in vain not to smile at the piercing shriek that emerged from the boutique. “Lieutenant Pansy, do you recall if the sergeant is married?” “Three times, sir! Never for more than two months, sir!” The thin Night Guard fairly ‘twanged’ at attention like a tightly-wound lute string wrapped perfectly in his steel armor. The part of Pumpernickel’s mind which had brought up the concept of ‘My brother-in-law, Chert’ was quietly dragged into the mental shadows and gently coerced into shutting up by his remaining wits. With a razor-sharp salute, he bid the lieutenant farewell before heading off to check on the delivery of military supplies, in particular, taupe and twill. * * * It felt good to be back in armor, it felt good to be doing something, even if it was mostly overseeing a constant stream of notes and fabric swatches headed for Canterlot destined to uproot poor shopowners from their nice, warm beds and make them ship bolts of specific cloth to Ponyville. Once the requested cargo had landed, it was hustled into the boutique by a squad of Night Pegasi under a delighted Drill Sergeant Chert, who also seemed to be enjoying himself. Either that, or he had decided to apply a little bit of lipstick to his own neck. Even as the guards worked their organizational magic, he split his attention between the library and the boutique. One had Princess Luna in it, the other Laminia, and if an anguished cry came from both of them at the same time, he was not quite certain which direction he would run first. It gave him a nice warm feeling in the chest and he hummed to himself as he worked, sending replacement guards to their positions or arranging schedules. There was so much to do, but his mind had never felt more free and even his hooves tended to tap out a happy melody when he was not paying them any attention. Luna had come outside the library exactly once; early during the evening when the alicorn, the unicorn and the dragon had all three walked outside, looked at him for a while, and then all three went back inside without saying a word. The library never lost all of its illumination, even as the lights went off in the upper residential floor. The main floor continued to be illuminated all through the night until shortly before dawn when Princess Luna emerged. “Attend me,” was all she said as she walked by him in the pre-dawn gloom, eventually leading a procession of a half-dozen Night Guards in various states of alertness into Sugarcube Corner. They were the first ponies in the building, other than the owners. With Royal grace, Princess Luna promptly turned down the attentions of Mister and Missus Cake when they scurried over, instead placing a bulk order so they could return to their morning baking. Fresh coffee and donuts still sizzling from the frier quickly appeared on their tables, along with a sampling of every possible delicacy the bakery had to offer before the Cake’s retreated back to the kitchen at Luna’s gesture for privacy. “I read your family Book.” Despite his normal fear of crowds, suddenly Pumpernickel felt a burning desire to be in an area filled with his family. Anything to divert the focus of those cool blue eyes away from him as Luna met his uncomfortable gaze. It explained what she had been doing all evening. Luna had always been an extremely fast and accurate reader, as hundreds of court sycophants who thought to slip something into a hundred-page proposal might testify, if they had not been dead and dust for centuries. Recent unsuccessful attempts by certain nobles who attempted to slip things through the sparsely-attended Night Court showed she had not lost one bit of her skills. Regrettably, he was the only one at her table to draw attention, because the rest of his fellow guards had wisely spread out around the shop and were doing their best to appear both deaf and blind to Luna’s actions as she continued to look at him. “You were right. You are right.” Luna’s face did not change, but one ear twitched as she turned ever so slowly to look at four Night Guards occupying a nearby table. “Downpour, did you have an insight you would like to add to my evaluation?” To his credit, the older Nocturne at the nearby table only flinched slightly. “No, My Princess.” Luna sighed and rolled her eyes. “By some measure, I am not only your Princess, but also the oldest mare in your family. As such, I’m ordering you to repeat what you said, only louder.” By the look on Downpour’s face, his mind had skidded sideways into a concept that it was not equipped to handle: Great-Grandmother Luna. The discipline of the Royal Guard may have penetrated the Night Pegasi to the bone, but the respect they had for their elder mares went straight to their youthful backsides, normally applied with a willow switch. “I-I said…” The guard swallowed hard and took a breath. “I said ‘Like that would ever happen.’” Luna cut Pumpernickel off before he could respond, “Do you not know the decision of which I spoke? You knew I had made the decision to pass the responsibility of returning the Books of Tradition to one of the Night Court nobles, while I remained in Canterlot. Do you think that was a good decision?” A war of emotions seemed to pass over Downpour, eventually settling into his normal guard expression. He attempted to answer several times, twisting in his seat and even picking up a doughnut at one point before he finally gritted out, “No.” “Good.” Luna lifted her chin as she glared. “Why did you not speak of my error sooner?” Downpour grimaced, unable to meet her eyes and looking down at the floor like the rest of the Guard. “We all… Well, the decision was above our station. We’re supposed to be your guards, not your advisers. You know more than we do, and we thought you saw something we didn’t.” “But still, you said nothing. This is not a battle, we are not in combat. I have been away for a very long time and will need all of your help I can get. As my loyal Night Guard, when you see a danger or a simple misinterpretation, I expect you to inform me of such, even if it is merely embarrassing myself in front of our subjects.” “Like when Laminia kept you from licking that poor ice cream pony’s ear?” suggested Downpour. “Exactly,” said Luna with only the most infinitesimal hesitation. “We did not consider the consequences of our actions in regard to our reputation. She performed your task flawlessly, which is one reason I gave her the position of Hoofmaiden.” She paused for a moment, her brow creased in thought before continuing somewhat slower. “Cast your thoughts back to that trying time when I was having nightmares, and was nearly out of my mind with guilt. What did you think when Pumpernickel suggested that the Night Guard swear to me exclusively, so that my mental duress would be lessened? Speak honestly.” “Honestly?” Downpour looked for support among his fellow Guards, all of which seemed to have found something fascinating to examine on the floorboards. “Honestly, right. Well. I thought he was crazy. Straight off the rails, loopy as a tornado, one domino short of a stack, all that. If it wasn’t for his name, we would have laughed him out of the meeting. He just kept talking and talking and eventually it sorta was the only option we could think of. Not that it made sense at that time. We all had our doubts about you, and frankly, we thought you were just as crazy as he was.” The guard swallowed dryly and looked at the floor, trying to avoid Luna’s piercing gaze. “When you had us follow you out to the old ruined castle in the Everfree Forest, I was so frightened I just about pissed myself. All I could think of was our dead ancestors, following behind you a thousand years ago. Stars above, even all of our names were the same as your followers on the Night of Exodus. It must have been pure agony for you that night. Stupid Tradition.” Downpour looked up, blinking hard. “Then you gave us that speech. Standing in the stones of your old home, talking about what had happened to you and our ancestors. I’m not sure if I was terrified or relieved, probably a bit of each. Any doubt we had about you was gone, just like that.” “I see. And afterwards?” Luna looked serene, but her chest moved rapidly in short breaths. “After we came back to the castle with you? I threw up. Lots of us did. We felt like a bunch of scared foals.” Downpour looked Pumpernickel straight in the eyes. “I still think it was a crazy idea. Not bad, just crazy. What did you see in him that we didn’t, Princess?” “I see somepony who is willing to speak up and act when one he cares about is hurting. It can take a great deal of courage to speak that which needs to be spoken to one who wishes not to hear. Even when his words are stupid. Stupid or wise cannot be determined if they are not spoken. Sometimes not even then, until long after the decision has been made.” Luna picked up a doughnut and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully and slowly before taking a drink of juice. It was a plain motion, but somehow every Night Pegasus in the room found themselves looking at her in anticipation. Without looking up from the table, she said, “As each of the families of Nocturne return to retrieve their Books of Tradition, Pumpernickel has convinced me to return to the place of your race’s creation with them, and to tell them what I told you. I will speak of my pride in their loyalty over these many years of my exile, the honor of their service, and of the true facts of my descent into madness. Would you say this is a good decision?” Every Night Guard in the room visibly relaxed, and Downpour looked up at Princess Luna. “Yes.” The tension edged microscopically back into the older Night Pegasus as he frowned at Pumpernickel. “He suggested that? You know we have a betting pool on when his next major mistake happens, right?” “We all make mistakes. I have made far more than my share, of a magnitude that make yours look small and petty. The one for which I bear the most shame is my fall, not your loyalty.” Princess Luna looked up at her guards scattered around the tables. “When your families return to pick up their Books of Tradition, I shall not abandon them. I am proud of you all, and wish to express my gratitude, as well as my regrets. It shall be difficult for all of us. I do not wish to relive these memories which are still so painfully fresh in my mind, but I owe it to your families.” “We will be honored to stand with you, Your Highness,” said Downpour with his head held high, promptly followed by the rest of the Night Pegasi in the room. * * * As the doughnuts wore thin and the early-rising inhabitants of the small town began to filter into the bakery, the Royal Breakfast Club and Night Guard Staff Meeting adjourned to the outside of the building. It was just too distracting for a ordinary pony to come trotting into the bakery like they had done a hundred times before, only to come face-to-paralyzed-face with a Princess. As they began to walk back to the library in preparation for Luna’s departure back to Canterlot, she stopped and motioned the rest of the guards for a little space so she could talk to Pumpernickel next to the building. “You look troubled, my loyal guard. Did you have another epiphany of wisdom to share?” His eyes grew large and he blurted out, “No! I mean… I was thinking about Laminia. How do I know I’m going to be good for her? How do I make her happy? How do I know—” A voice from above interrupted “Don’t start! I haven’t paid for that song license yet, although you’re next to royalty, so that should be fine, but they get all picky about that kind of thing.” “Pinkie Pie,” said Luna with a muffled chuckle, looking up at where the pink pony was hanging precariously out of the second floor window by her rear hooves. “You are the bearer of the Element of Laughter, so perhaps you can answer my guard’s question. But not in song,” she hurriedly finished as Pinkie managed to pull out a guitar and poised to strum it even while hanging by her hindquarters out of the window. “Awww. Okie dokie.” The guitar went away as quickly as it had appeared, and Pumpernickel was shocked as Pinkie Pie frowned as hard as she could (although since she was upside-down, it could be argued she was smiling). “You can’t make somepony happy. The best you can do is to give them the opportunity to be happy, and if they want to be unhappy—” Pinkie’s frown grew and her foofy pink hair slumped even more “—even if you try really, really hard, they stay unhappy. Even the coolest party with songs and dancing and chocolate cloud cake didn’t make Princess Celestia happy, but it was your party so I suppose—” “Excuse me, Pinkie,” said Princess Luna, looking suspiciously as if she had been attempting to slip away while Pumpernickel was busy listening to the pink pony. “Chocolate cloud cake? That’s impossible.” “Not it’s not,” said Pinkie Pie indignantly. “It’s just really, really, really hard to make. What’s impossible is forcing somepony to be happy when they don’t want—” “No!” said Luna with a little stomp of her hoof that caused a faint rumble of thunder overhead. “It is quite impossible. We have even tried ourselves many times, but the chocolate clumps together and settles out into a gooey mess, and makes the wings of the pegasus mixing the batter all… sticky. But tasty,” she added with a thoughtful look. “Could we get back to happ—” started Pumpernickel before Pinkie Pie interrupted with a giggle. “No, silly. I made the cloud cake chocolate by accident when the Cutie Mark Crusaders were helping at the bakery and we were making cloud cakes for Pumpernickel’s party and Scootaloo was trying to mix up the batter with her wings like the instructions said but her wings are awfully short and she fell in and knocked a box of chocolate powder in with her and really really buzzed around the tub trying to get out and by the time we got her pulled out, all the batter had been mixed up really well so we said Hay! why don’t we just bake it anyway and see what happens but after we got the first cake pulled out there was a teensie weensie fire and the fire extinguisher powder got on all the other cakes and it tastes just AWFUL! so we had to throw them out but we saved the first one and I got it iced for the party and everypony just loved it except Princess Celestia who didn’t even take a bite but maybe that is because it didn’t look like a cloud cake so if we use white chocolate next time—” “White chocolate is not really chocolate,” said Princess Luna dismissively as Pinkie Pie gasped for air. “I am somewhat short of time at the moment, for my schedule is such that I should be back in Canterlot even now. Please attempt to duplicate your experiment, without the fire extinguisher, and I shall see you well rewarded. We shall send one of our couriers with payment. For now, please see to Optio Pumpernickel’s question.” The Princess of the Night turned and departed, leaving a thoughtful Pumpernickel in her wake. He glanced back and forth between the departing Princess and the perky party pony, waiting until Luna’s chariot had taken to the morning sky and was well out of eavesdropping range before he dared speak. “I think I see your point about not being able to force somepony into being happy. She’s the most powerful ruler in Equestria, and sometimes she just seems so sad.” “Oh, don’t let that make you all droopy-woopy! She’s a Princess, and Princesses have really big sads and happies and gloomies and voices and castles and the biggest, bestest big sister in the whole world! She really wants other ponies to be happy, because that’s why she turned all Black Snooty in the first place but that was a mistake and even Princesses make mistakes and now that she’s back, she’s trying to make other ponies happy in a much better way. I think it’s a good thing Princesses can’t just make ponies happy, because they care so much they would just go around blasting everypony with happy and nopony can be happy all the time because it would drive them crazy—” She cut off at a worried look from Pumpernickel, and continued much slower. “When I first saw you and Laminia, it made me so sad inside. I mean, you both were so miserable, and looked like you were happy being sad. But after a while, I saw you were both sad that you were sad, but when you were together, you were happy, but you were unhappy that you weren’t sad, which made you sad that you were happy but I think that if you both learned to be happy being happy you wouldn’t want to be sad any more and then we could have a PARTY!” Confusion and comprehension warred throughout Pumpernickel’s mind. It made sense, well, as much as anything Pinkie Pie ever said. He had once been very comfortable in his misery, but now when he looked back, it did not look like a very nice place to spend the rest of his life. It looked lonely. One hoof unconsciously raised to touch the side of his cheek where Laminia had kissed him. Stretching in front of him seemed to be a gaping chasm with sharp rocks at the bottom, and it felt like both of his wings were tied back with chains. He stepped forward. “Pinkie, can I hire you to set up that party?” ----- Swift Wings, Commander of the Day Guard, had just arrived at the boutique with the Office of Correspondence commuters, settling into an observation role as the Day Guard took over from the Night. He accepted Pumpernickel’s summary of the night’s activities with aplomb, declining the party invitation and confirming that the next night’s duties were still in his capable hooves. After being dismissed, Pumpernickel beat a rapid retreat to do some early-morning shopping before slipping back to the hotel to sleep with his fellow Night Guards. It felt comforting but a little weird to be back in a barracks sleeping heap after spending so much time with Laminia. Thankfully his sleep was dreamless and solid, awakening only when the afternoon alarm went off and the rest of his fellow guards woke up to get prepared for the evening’s assignment. “Good afternoon, Optio Pumpernickel,” said Commander Swift Wings jovially as Pumpernickel strode up to him outside the boutique. “I trust you had an enjoyable day of rest while the rest of us were out in the blazing sun, slaving away under our merciless taskmaster.” “I heard that,” came Twilight Sparkle’s voice, wafting out of the library window. “I’ve got an extra broom in here, so keep it down or I’ll have you help Spike finish sweeping.” Swift Wings chuckled, shaking his head so his short-cropped silvering mane glimmered in the sun. “I swear, she’s as bad as the wife. Good news here, young lad. The duplication process is completed, all the duplicates have been shipped to the archives, and that delightful young pink mare has been quite busy with preparations for tonight’s celebratory festivities. She moves so fast you could swear there are more than one of her. Lady Rarity and your young marefriend have moved their entire operations to Canterlot, so you’ll be in charge of shutting down operations here just as soon as Laminia is finished sleeping and ready to head for home.” A nervous glance by Pumpernickel into the open front door of the boutique showed a much emptier building, and no activity. “They gave up?” The Commander chuckled again. “Oh, heavens no. Amazingly successful, if you ask me. The whole operation is moving to the Royal Seamstress’ office to shorten the line of supply now that they are in their production phase. We packed the whole project up and stuck it on the train a couple hours ago, along with most of the guards for security. The lads were none too happy about missing the party, but they got a chocolate cake delivered to them just before leaving. “Anyway, it sounds like your first independent command went off without any major hitches. Do you know what my Commander said to me after I completed my first command?” “Good job?” “Nope, he looked me straight in the face and bellowed, ‘I didn’t say you were at fault, I said I was going to blame you!’ Wonderful leader. I went to his funeral just to make sure he wasn’t coming back. So, Optio Pumpernickel, are you pleased with your performance at this assigned task now that it is nearly complete?” “It’s not complete yet, sir. There still needs to be an honor guard assigned to the Town Hall to provide security for the Books until they are picked up. Probably six to eight guards between the two divisions for a few weeks.” Pumpernickel looked around before lowering his voice. “Friendly unmarried ones, if possible.” “Ah, yes. I noticed the gender disparity around the town.” The Commander’s white mustache(3) twitched with amusement. “Probably best not to put temptation in front of the married lads. Will there be anything else, Optio? There still are several hours before your shift is scheduled to begin.” “No. I need some time to think, and I think best standing. Thank you, sir. I am prepared to relieve you now.” “You have command.” Commander Swift Wings hesitated before leaving, glancing just once at the boutique where Laminia was still sleeping. “Good luck.” Pumpernickel stood next to Downpour as they watched the Day Commander climb up into the overcast evening air with his few remaining guards. All around them, the village had begun its evening routine as the market started to close down and ponies prepared to return to their homes. “Hey Downpour,” he started, once the Commander had vanished from sight. “You still running that betting pool on the chances of me making a dramatically bad decision in the future?” “O-Optio. I-I don’t…” The Night Guard trailed off until he saw the hint of a smile at the corner of Pumpernickel’s face. “Oh! Currently the pool is about 4:1 over the next week, going down to 2:1 for the month. Did you want to get in?” “Put me down for twelve bits on ‘No bad decisions for a year.’ I expect good odds on that bet, my fellow guard who would not be caught dead cheating.” “Does getting engaged to Laminia count as a bad decision?” asked Downpour with an unabated grin. “That’s a different pool, I can give you 3:1 for ‘within a year’ or 22:1 for ‘within six months’” “Put me down for a hundred bits on ‘within a week,’” said Pumpernickel with a matching grin. “If I win, you can call it a wedding gift and it should wipe out the pool, and if I lose, I’ll just call it the price of experience.” (*) Completely untrue. Twilight Sparkle would be willing to testify that Miss Pince-Nez would never have permitted such a loud pony within her house. (1) Actually Sgt. Chert remained stationary as the world rotated under his hooves. (2) Hoofwritten comment by Princess Celestia appended to Statute 925, Subsection S (Noise Abatement) on requiring all occupied clouds over Canterlot at night to be above 2000 ft: “You can not take the romance out of the pegasus, even if you give them bat-wings and yellow eyes. Make it 4000 ft. please.” (3) The Night and Day Guard Commanders had an ongoing informal contest about who had the most impressive mustache. The Night Commander’s mother-in-law was currently winning.