Doctor Whooves - The Series: Episode Four - Only Skin Deep

by Loyal2Luna

Ch. 4: The Opening Act

“So help me Kir, if this is another one of your blasted pranks...” the eldest of the three quilin nobles let the threat hang in the air, his tone as edged as the sharp crystal formations it echoed off of.

“An alien visitation as a prank? Dai, do you truly believe that I would concoct so elaborate a hoax simply to alleviate my own boredom?” the youngest of the three queried, his expression patronizing.

There was no hesitation in the answer.

“YES!”

“Then you’re more foalish than I ever gave you credit for.”

“Why, you insolent little--”

“Dai! That is enough!” another, more even tone silenced his more aggressive compatriot before returning his attention to the youngest of the Nine Princes. “While overzealous in his accusation, the Warrior Prince is not wrong, Kir. Your reign of the Science Spire has hardly inspired trust among your fellow princes.”

The Lord Prince of the Last City glared at his guests, retaining his composure as he endured the shouts and condemnation of the two elder princes.

“I assure you, Shu: I have the situation well in hoof,” Kir objected, maintaining an air of dignity with the full understanding that any sign of weakness before these two would be detrimental to his position. “These travelers are not the barbarians of lore, raving at the gates and threatening to raze our civilization to the ground. They are merely explorers! Clearly an intelligent and cultured people not so different from ourselves. With abilities and technology that may even surpass our own.”

The Crown Prince’s eyes narrowed in a spiteful glare as a tense pause held sway.

“Kir, that is blasphemy.”

“I mean no disrespect, Crown Prince,” Kir withdrew a bit, knowing full well that he had moved into dangerous territory by speaking his thoughts on the matter directly to the ruler of Qing. “What I mean is simply that they are no threat. Even Dai would realize that after conversing with them for more than a few moments.”

Warrior Prince Dai huffed angrily at the thinly-veiled insult.

“This may be one of the most important events to transpire since the founding of the Last City, Shu,” Kir continued. “Imagine what we could learn; the doors that it could open.”

“I agree that this matter could have far-reaching consequences, Kir.” Shu shook his head. “And far more dire ramifications than you realize. Claiming authority in the manner you have is--”

“The only way that this can possibly work!” Kir objected again. “Dai, unsurprisingly, sees them as a foe to be crushed and wants to destroy them. You see a threat to your claims of our species’ absolute superiority and want to cover them up. And I am certain that Pei would want to dissect and study them like the animals in his arboretum!”

The Lord Prince stomped a hoof in frustration.

“I won’t have it! The first visitors to our city, and you would have us behave like the savages in your stories of Ancient Qing! We are better than that!”

“You do not dictate to us! Why, if you were not Lord Prince, Kir…” Dai bared his teeth, a sharp menacing glare in his golden eyes and shining black scales.

“What, Dai?” Kir challenged, attempting to cover up the fact that his heart was racing and hiding the effect the intimidating Warrior Prince was having. “What would you do if I were not?”

The silence held for several heavy seconds, the two Princes holding one another’s golden gaze before finally, Dai turned away, grumbling under his breath as Kir was allowed to relax.

“You do not have the experience or the authority to deal with something of this magnitude, Kir,” the Crown Prince asserted once more, attempting to reinforce his position.

“I notice Wei is not with you,” Kir pointed out, which earned him another snarl from Dai at the mention of his greatest rival: the Arbiter Prince. “I do wonder what he would think of the situation.”

Crown Prince Shu scowled at the upstart Lord Prince.

“I deemed that Wei’s presence was not required. The Grand Magister is preoccupied and--”

“Would undoubtedly rule in my favor,” Kir completed, recognizing the political feint for what it was. “The law is the law and this is an academic endeavor, which falls solely under my jurisdiction. Until such a time as they are deemed a threat to the wellbeing of the Last City, I claim authority. In any event, I fail to see how this is of any concern to you at all, ‘Loremaster.’ At this time, Wu has more claim to authority in the matter than you do.”

The Crown Prince bristled at the insult, but maintained his poise.

“The Jester? What part does that lout play in this?” An uncharacteristic curiosity tinged the Crown Prince’s voice.

“I have sent my attache to the Azure Halls to ‘request’ that this day’s banquet be set to celebrate the arrival of our guests,” Kir explained, which drew him another angry glare from the Warrior Prince. “As I have yet to receive a rebuke, I assume that the request was accepted. I intend to introduce them to the Princes and Mistresses.”

“And where are these ‘pony-creatures’ now?” Dai demanded. “And their ‘magic’ vessel?”

“They are under my authority,” Kir replied curtly, which further inflamed the elder Warrior Prince. “That is all you need to know. If you wish to speak with them, you may do so at the banquet, in the open, in front of everylin of importance, and not a moment before. Now, if that is settled, would you like me to summon an escort? Or can you remember the way out of my spire?”

There was another moment of tense silence, Dai’s jaw quivering at the indignity of Kir’s insult before Crown Prince Shu shook his head, letting out an amused huff.

“You know, your predecessor was not nearly so troublesome, Kir,” he remarked, giving a forced, hollow smile. “Very well. If you wish to walk this treacherous path, then I shall not deny you. But be aware: If I am not satisfied that this ‘alien’ matter is being handled properly by the end of the banquet, then I shall do everything in my authority as the Protector of our City’s Secrets, to rectify the situation.”

Kir huffed as Shu turned away, rolling his eyes at the empty threat as Shu’s black-scaled lackey turned to follow the Crown Prince out of the antechamber.

“I expected this from Dai, Shu… but not from you. What are you so worried about?” Kir called after the Crown Prince before his voice dropped, speaking almost to himself. “It’s not as if we have anything to hide.”

The Crown Prince of Qing said nothing in reply, not even bothering to look back towards the young academic as they left the antechamber. So intent was his aloofness, he took no note of their slightly-distorted reflections in the unassuming crystalline mirror hanging on the wall.

A small tan quilin clipped his sharp hoof patiently against the metal entryway, which had been sealed shut for some time since he had led the alien stallion to these quarters so that he could be groomed and properly prepared for the banquet.

A task that was made much more difficult as the furred alien had barricaded himself within the room upon arrival and had not answered the attendant’s knocks since he had returned with an assorted rack of proper attire for the upcoming social engagement.

Unsure of what else to do, the attendant waited a moment longer before reaching a hoof up and trying to knock for perhaps the dozenth time.

“Excuse me,” a pleasant female voice called out to him, causing the sai to recoil and turn, his eyes wide with concern as a furred purple mare approached him. A single pointed spire protruded awkwardly from the center of her forehead rather than a pair of them from her crown, as was natural for any being native to the Last City.

“Milady!” The sai knelt down quickly, still unsure of what to make of the alien creature in front of him and deciding it best to fall back on a safe, tried and true reaction. “Is something amiss? May I be of assistance?”

“Uhhh, no. That’s okay. I don’t want you to... That is, you don’t have to bow or anything,” Twilight Sparkle stammered slightly, drawing a hoof back to rub the back of her head as the sudden subservient display gave her a pang of discomfort. At least it was not as pronounced as that of the last servant she had spoken with, who had all but thrown herself at the unicorn’s hooves begging her pardon for not knowing the answer to her question for certain.

Even the staff of Canterlot Palace were not so blatantly submissive, and they worked under a pair of demi-goddesses.

“I’m just looking for my friend, the Doctor. You know, looks kind of like me, but brown. No horn, hourglass on his flank... One of your coworkers said he was down this way.”

“Yes, of course, milady.” The sai pulled himself up and nodded, relieved by the alien’s casual manner. Moving to one side, he pointed towards the doorway he had been knocking on before explaining.

“I had gone to fetch him something suitable to wear for the banquet. The Lord Prince has made some of the vests from his personal wardrobe available for our guest’s perusal and I wished to see if any of these garments might meet with his approval. But when I came back with the selection, the door was locked and he has not yet answered.”

Twilight nodded, moving towards the door as the quilin reached up, patting his scarlet and gold stole against his neck as if to reassure himself that it was still there. It was an action that Twilight had observed several of the other servants do whenever they seemed unsure or uncomfortable around her.

“I was actually beginning to grow concerned he may have fallen asleep and I might be disturbing him, which certainly was not my intention.”

“I doubt it; he doesn’t sleep very much.” Twilight shook her head, trying not to let her rampant imagination get away from her as various reasons tried to jump to mind as to why he would be unable to open a simple door.

“I’m sure he’s fine. Here, let me try,” she offered before raising her foreleg to rap the front of her hoof against the middle of the metal door.

“Doctor?”

No answer.

Twilight’s polite expression dropped with a mix of annoyance and worry as she pulled her foreleg back and struck the white metal full on with the bottom of her hoof at much greater force.

“DOCTOR! OPEN UP!”

The doorway slid open suddenly, causing the unicorn to have to pull back before she struck out with her hoof again, while a certain spikey-maned stallion poked his head out.

“Well, that sounded rather urgent. Is something the matter, Twilight?”

“Can we talk?” the unicorn asked simply.

“Is this about that book and what you wanted to talk about in the TARDIS earlier?” the stallion deadpanned. “Because this is sort of a bad time for that.”

“No,” Twilight shook her head, sounding sheepish. “Something different.”

“Then of course, come on in.” The Doctor pulled back, motioning for her to come inside.

“Um, sire, if it’s not too much trouble, I have some garments here for--” the sai attendant attempted to get the stallion’s attention, only to receive an appreciative pat between the horns.

“I assure you, that’s quite alright. I don’t tend to dress up too much. What I have on suits me quite well enough,” the stallion redirected the conversation, patting his hoof on the quilin’s crown a few more times before withdrawing it and cutting off the attendant's attempt to speak up with a very unexpected question. “By the way, what is your name?”

“Name? I don’t--”

“No, no wait, let me guess: It’s Sai, right?” The stallion grinned. “Of course it is, and I bet you just love your job, don’t you?”

“I... uhhh...” The sai looked from side to side, quite overwhelmed by the sudden burst of attention and the brown stallion’s lilting manner of speaking. “I don’t...”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll talk about that later. Now, how about you just go and take the rest of the day off?”

“Day... off? I...” The quilin shook his head, attempting to focus on his task. “Sire, if I could trouble you to perhaps try one or two of these on so that I could--”

“By the by, do you happen to have the time?” the stallion asked suddenly.

The sai drew back, a confused look on his face.

“Uhhh...”

“How long until the banquet starts, my good quilin?” the Doctor asked again, his pleasant expression dropping. “It’s a reasonable question.”

“The banquet? It will begin at the start of the Dim Cycle, sire.”

“Which will be when, exactly?”

The quilin looked confused again, something Twilight caught from inside the small, comfortable room in which the Doctor had been staying.

“Shortly, sire,” the attendant offered, still uncertain.

“I see.” The Doctor nodded, smiling again. “Thank you, you have been most informative.”

“Of course, milord. Now if I could get you to--”

The white-metal door slid back into place, leaving the sai frazzled and confused.

After standing there, facing the closed door for a few moments longer as he tried to make sense of what had just transpired, the quilin sighed and shook his head, supposing that this was simply natural for the alien ponies.

Moving to the rolling clothes rack to push it away, the sai attendant took no notice of the tiny grey metal disk that been slipped into his wiry mane.

“What was that about?” Twilight asked suspiciously as the Doctor closed the door with a gentle push of his hoof and brought a small crystal block down to lock it in place.

“Testing a theory,” the Doctor stated simply. “So, what do you think, Twilight?”

“About what?”

“All of this. A whole civilization set to ruin by their own attempts to combat the inevitable whims of nature. Managing not just to survive, but to maintain an admittedly advanced lifestyle and thrive in the confines of a great domed city.” The Time Pony grinned. “Why, that sounds downright inspiring doesn’t it? I’m sure every quilin in this city feels just lucky to be alive. And it’s just so beautiful here too, don’t you think?”

Twilight watched the Hourglass Stallion for a moment before speaking up.

“You don’t buy it?”

“Not for a second.” The Doctor shook his head, his expression falling as he took note of Twilight’s uncertain posture. “And it’s bothering you too, isn’t it?”

“No... I mean, yes, I agree. It’s just...” Twilight took a breath, her concerns coming to the forefront of her mind. “Do you think maybe we’re being overly-paranoid about all of this?” she asked, clearly concerned and shuffling slightly on her hooves as she spoke.

“I mean, what if we’re getting ahead of ourselves? Can we really just keep finding problems like this almost everywhere we go? Is that what we do? Or can we just, I don’t know, maybe relax a little and let it go?”

The Doctor watched Twilight’s hesitant expression, her uncertainty and the gnawing doubt, which stung him more than he would care to admit.

“Twilight, what’s wrong?”

The unicorn hesitated, sitting back on her haunches as she looked away.

“I was talking to Rarity, trying to tell her about what we found out about the crystals,” the unicorn confided in the stallion. “She didn’t believe me. But... maybe she’s right, and we’re just looking for trouble where there isn’t any.”

The Doctor gave her a sideways look, still trying to determine how to respond before she continued.

“She said I was being paranoid. That I’ve changed. But she’s wrong, right? I haven’t changed! Everything we’ve done together so far, they were all good things right? I’m not shutting everypony out and being--”

“Twilight. Stop,” the Doctor cut her off, realizing where her train of thought was going. “Stop right there. That never happened and it is never going to happen. That entire chain of events has been completely subverted and can never take place. You did that, remember? You changed it.”

“But what if I...?” Twilight let the question hang, unable to give voice to that terrible possibility.

“You won’t, Twilight.”

“How do you know?”

The Hourglass Stallion offered his friend a tired smile. “Rule number three.”

The unicorn deflated slightly, bowing her head as she swallowed.

“Arguing with you in the TARDIS... Being suspicious of the Quilin right away... Those aren’t things I would have done just a few months ago. I have changed, haven’t I?”

Twilight felt a hoof move under her chin, drawing her eyes up to the understanding expression on the Time Pony’s face.

“Everything changes, Twilight. Believe me, I know that all too well.” From the firmness in his voice, and the intense depth in his eyes, it was painfully obvious to her that he truly did know what he was saying. “But you can’t let your fear of what could be get in the way of what you’re going to be... And I know, from the bottom of my hearts, and I do mean both of them, that you’re going to be absolutely brilliant.”

Taking a few breaths, Twilight let his words sink in. Rarity’s observations still held strong in her mind. But what the Doctor had said, and the plain, sincere way in which he had said it, made her feel that maybe, just maybe, he could be right.

Twilight’s breath caught in her throat as she suddenly realized she had been gazing straight into the stallion’s soft blue eyes. A realization that he seemed to share as the Time Lord and unicorn both turned away from one another.

‘I’ve really got to stop doing that,’ Twilight found herself thinking suddenly, the thought echoing in her mind for a moment as she found herself wondering if he also felt that strange tingling down her spine when he had looked away.

The moment between them was cut short however, as a sudden ringing echoed from the hallways; a sound like hundreds of windchimes caught in a gentle breeze drawing the attention of the two ponies back to their immediate situation.

Then the soft glow of the ambient crystal lights overhead dimmed. The faint blue tint, barely noticeable now that they had gotten used to it, grew stronger and altered to an almost indigo hue as the overall level of illumination dropped.

“What is that? What’s going on?” Twilight asked, grateful for the distraction.

The Doctor’s eyes shifted back and forth, a small amused smile forming on his face.

“I get it... Oh, how literal. ‘Dim Cycle.’” He shook his head before offering a hoof to Twilight. “I do believe it’s party time. Let’s go introduce ourselves to the royalty, shall we?”

Twilight felt a sudden rush; a growing excitement that she found she had been missing over the past few weeks. The Doctor’s smile was proving infectious as she took his hoof and heaved herself up onto all fours again.

“Yes, we shall.”

The Master of the Halls was frozen in horror as he stood in the great doorway looking out over his domain, the Banquet Chamber. Where the nobility of Qing often gathered to mingle, share stories of what had taken place during the previous Bright Cycle, enjoy one another’s company, and indulge in both the hospitality of the Jester Prince and the finest delectables his compatriot, the Deep Prince, could offer.

But this banquet was to be different. For the first time since he had assumed his duty as Lord of the Azure Palace, the responsibility of setting up the night’s festivities fell to another; and a sai, no less. His prince was less than pleased to hear of this turn of events, given the obvious break in tradition, though it was allowed this time because of the admittedly extraordinary circumstances.

Aliens and magic boxes and conflicts between the first four Crowns of the Last City were most certainly NOT within his purview, and he was glad to have washed his hooves of it all. If he was a more empathetic kind of quilin, the Master of the Halls might have felt sorry for the socialites who would soon show up, expecting their banquet.

For without him, there would be no banquet.

He had not planned to make any appearance this evening, intending to let the insolent sai drown attempting to fulfill his duties and let the Princes figure out what to do with the aliens. Then he could rest during the Dark Cycle and begin rebuilding the reputation of the Azure Halls with that nuisance taken care of.

But that was before he had been hoof-delivered a message by one of his own sai, her stole identifying her as one of the Azure Halls’ couriers.

He had been so shocked upon receiving the message in his personal quarters that he had not even taken the time to chastise his sai, the small quilin mare rushing away with a satchel over her back containing more of the kind of message that she had given to him.

It was so strange, the small missive. Emblazoned upon a thin, flimsy material was an illustration of the blue box, and the pink alien creature standing with one hoof outstretched to meet another hoof belonging to, what he realized after a few moments, was a poorly-illustrated representation of himself... smiling. And between them in the background, a silver sai, which filled the noble’s chest with an angry heat as he recognized the pattern on his stole.

Below the illustration, in a formal script that certainly was too advanced and intelligently written to have been done by whoever had created the illustration, were words. It took him reading it three times to make sense of the verse, almost like a puzzle, before the realization was made.

It was an invitation; formally extending the well-wishing of some noble he had never even heard of, going by the titles of “Pinkamena Diane Pie, Former Sovereign of Party City, Premier Party Planner, Master of the Bakery, Bearer of Laughter and Champion of Equestria” (whatever that meant) to the ruling class and elite of the Last City and inviting them to a banquet unlike anything they had ever seen before.

This was absurd! Banquets required no invitation! In all of his time as Lord of the Azure Palace, he had never utilized them. From the Nine Princes to the lowest of the Sai, everylin knew that the banquet was held in the Halls of Azure come the Dim Cycle. If they had the stature to attend, they would attend.

And the things it spoke of....

Dancing both traditional and modern?

Music never before heard by quilin ears?

Exotic foods from another world?

RSVP not required?

WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE NINE CROWNS DID THAT EVEN MEAN!?

That had been mere moments before the Chimes indicated the end of the Bright Cycle and the beginning of the Dim Cycle, and the sheer implications of what the “invitation” entailed set the noble to running faster than he could remember. Even before the last chime sounded, the Lord of the Azure Palace had already covered a good deal of the distance between his modest private estate adjacent to the Jovial Spire and the Azure Halls.

What he found when he arrived was truly something out of a nightmare.

The Halls were barely recognizable to him, with large round objects he had never before seen floating at different heights overhead in shades of white, gold, and blue. They cast off an odd gleam in the light that somehow exaggerated the illumination, making it appear brighter than normal even with the loss of the Northern Chandelier.

His two long banquet tables had been moved from their usual place, now occupying the Northern Wall to his left, and placed in angles around the object that had become the bane of his existence: The tall blue box. The eyesore that had spitefully crushed two finely-crafted and very difficult to acquire tables was now seated right in the middle of the Halls for all to see. On one side it was flanked by plates of the usual fare; food indeed fit for those in attending. But on the other table stood items unlike anything that the Master of the Halls had ever seen.

A plate of long orange spears with lanky green sprouts coming out of the top unlike anything he had seen before, much less put in his mouth. Behind those sat plates stacked high with small, spongy white triangles packed with colorful, sinewy... things. Taking up most of the table however, were crystal plates piled high with alien things that ranged from small brown, black-spotted circles to a bowl of bright pink fluid with a large spoon sitting in it.

Across from him, facing the stairs along the Eastern Wall, was a hastily-erected platform made of quick-growing crystal under a thin sheet of metal which somewhat resembled a stage. A long piece of fabric was laying down over it at the moment, with multiple sai, both his own and some wearing scarlet and gold stoles, working to run long cables through the edges, clearly preparing to pull the fabric up along the wall. This led to another thing that took the noble completely by surprise: sai still hard at work in spite of the fact that they should have been dismissed with the Chimes.

To his right, against the Southern Wall, a large round table made of a solid brown material had been set, with several of his sai still moving around it and setting out metal goblets.

Goblets reserved for the Princes and their Mistresses.

And among them, four goblets made of the same brown material as the table, each with alien-looking designs etched into them.

“What in the name of--”

“And... heave!” the painfully-pitched voice assaulted the Master of the Hall’s ears, causing him to cringe as he took note of two cables that had been run up the wall. As he watched, they pulled up a large, white fabric banner that was first at eye level, then over his head, drawing his attention up as it covered the traditional carvings of the wall.

Below the words, drawn out in large letters using a fine gold ink, was another illustration of the blue box, something that he stared at for a moment before moving forward to look over the banister of the staircase and straight down into the floor. There, over a dozen sai, both his own and those wearing stoles of the Science Spire, pulled on two cables to raise the banner into place, the pink alien mare tying the ends off on a jutting piece of the wall so that it held in place.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?” the Lord of the Azure Palace shouted, his eyes wide as the full weight of his defiled Banquet Hall finally hit him, overpowering the shock.

“Oh! Hi, Moth!” Pinkie Pie waved up to the quilin happily before giving him a strange look. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. We’re not quite ready yet, but what the hay. Come on in! Also, just to let you know, I’m pretty sure we pulled that gag in the last episode. Let’s not get stale now; we have to keep up standards!”

“What!?” Moth’s confusion peaked again, mixed with no small amount of sheer outrage. “What are you TALKING about!?”

“The meaning of ‘this.’ You know, it’s a dictionary joke,” Pinkie answered thoughtfully. “You don’t have much of a sense of humor do you?”

The Master of the Halls moved quickly as the pink mare was talking, rushing down the steps with a fervor as heat rushed to his face.

“What have you done to my Halls!?”

“I know, it’s kinda bare bones right now, but that’s just because it was so short notice.” Pinkie grinned, turning to look over her shoulder to the banner. “I gotta say though, your little sai friends here have been great! I never would have gotten this done in time all by myself!”

Moth turned his head to the side, glaring at his caterers, many of whom cringed under his fuming gaze.

“Good work, guys! Cookie for everylin!” the pink pony offered enthusiastically, presenting a plate of the small brown wheels to his sai.

In an instant, the sai seemed to forget their fear and rushed forward enthusiastically, practically attacking the tray presented by the taller pink pony, who giggled after a moment before pulling it away completely bare.

The Master of the Halls watched in a mix of shock and disgust as his workers indulged in the alien food, clearly savoring the soft, almost gooey circles, some leaving black smudges of an almost oil-like sludge on their lips.

…Repulsive...

“Lady Pinkie, the nobles and the princes should be arriving any moment.” Another, very familiar looking sai moved up past the Master of the Halls, drawing the pink mare’s attention away from the sight of watching the small quilin devour the alien delicacies. A sight which she was clearly (for some reason that escaped Moth completely) enjoying.

“Hold it! I’m not ready yet! I gotta go get changed. Okay, Sil...aaaaaiii...” the pink alien inexplicably stretched out the sound as she shot a glance towards Moth, who returned it with a questioning look as she continued. “Just remember what I told you.”

“You will find we are very good at following instruction, milady,” Silver nodded with a smile as the pink mare darted away towards the blue box, again slipping inside too quickly for Moth to look in after her.

As soon as the door closed shut, the Master of the Halls instead decided to bear down on the silver-colored nuisance.

“How DARE you!”

“As I recall, you gave me authority over your Halls. I am merely performing the work that was required of me,” the sai countered in a determinedly polite tone, his golden eyes glaring back as the minor noble attempted to use his size as an intimidation factor.

To Silver’s credit, he resisted the nervous need to pat his stole.

“Although, I am quite obviously inexperienced compared to you. I improvised and did what I could with what I had available to me. With some guidance from the guest of honor, of course.”

“You spit on the traditions of the Banquet! Disrupt my tried and true methods! Place this bizarre, foreign ‘food’ out for the nobility to choke on! Insult the Princes by seating the aliens amongst them! And worst of all: You have the audacity to allow SAI to remain in my Halls after the Bright Cycle has passed!”

“They are not attending, if that is what you fear, sire,” Silver explained flatly. “They are only here to serve.”

“But it’s the Dim Cycle! Your kind can’t get out of the doors fast enough when that happens! Why would they stay!?”

The Lord Prince’s attache smiled, an action that carried enough smugness to nearly cause the Master of the Halls to reach back and strike out at him.

“Lady Pinkie has proven to have quite powerful methods of motivation.”

Moth snarled in his throat before huffing angrily.

“No! I will NOT allow this... this... travesty! You will take your sai and the alien back to your master’s spire and NEVER set hoof in my Halls again! This banquet is canceled! I will not let this come to pass!”

Silver looked up towards the Master of the Halls for a moment before his eyes darted up a bit higher, a smug expression returning to his snout.

“I would think... you are far too late for that.”

“Why you little...” Moth brought up a sharpened hoof in a threatening motion...

“SANG!”

...and froze in place. His eyes widened with horror as a booming voice echoed his true name across the Halls, causing all of the sai present to take a step back and bow forward towards the staircase submissively.

“What’s all this then?” the boisterous, normally jovial tone asked, drawing closer as heavy metal cuffs could be heard clicking down the steps and into the Banquet Hall itself.
There was a definite degree of disappointment in his words.

For the Master of the Halls, it truly was too late.

The Jester Prince had arrived.

The Banquet had officially begun.

“Lady Rarity apologizes for the inconvenience, but requests a bit longer for preparation, milord,” the female sai attendant informed her prince, bowing her head respectfully as she relayed the message given to her by their alien guest.

The Lord Prince, who had been waiting in his antechamber with Twilight and the Doctor for some time since the Dim Cycle had begun, gave a soft, but understanding sigh as he considered the message.

“Then I suppose we shall simply have to wait a bit longer.” Kir nodded patiently, dismissing the servant as he turned his attention back towards the two guests who had been waiting alongside him.

“Is she still preening?” Twilight let out a soft groan, rolling her eyes. “I swear, that pony is worse than a peacock. If I had known she was going to take this long I would have gone back to actually pick out a dress.”

“Well, we apparently do have the time if you would like to return to the grooming chambers and select one, Lady Twilight,” Kir offered with a warm smile.

“No thank you, Your Majesty,” the unicorn shook her head, amazed at how casually the title rolled off her tongue. Perhaps it was because she had not grown up idolizing Kir as she had with Princess Celestia that let her do so, or that she was losing some of the deference to aristocratic authority that most citizens of Equestria maintained. ”Most of what was available was too extravagant for my tastes in any case. I hope that’s not going to be a problem for the other members of the nobility at the banquet.”

“Oh no, of course not. Lady Rarity explained much to me of your kind’s culture during your tour and we share many similarities, our stance on clothing among them,” Kir assured the unicorn. “I myself rarely wear more than a vest. And I don’t believe the Primal Prince has ever worn so much as a sock in his entire life.”

“Well, I guess some ponies can just pull off the ‘au natural’ look. Now me, I am downright useless without some practical apparel. Pockets, for example, are an absolute necessity in my experience,” the Doctor commented, an amused smirk on his face before his tone dropped with a hint of concern. “Although at this rate, the banquet may very well be over before we manage more than ten meters past the door,” he noted, tapping and occasionally grinding a hind hoof impatiently against the cool metal floor.

“I very much doubt it. After all, you are the guests of honor. And I am certain that my fellow Princes will be most eager to meet with you,” Kir expressed to the two ponies, though he didn’t sound too convinced of the latter statement. “Yet... I am surprised that my attache has not returned with your friend. It is not like him to dally.”

Twilight tried to hide a slight chuckle, imagining what sort of antics the pink mare might be getting up to, but she evidently failed to do so as she drew Kir’s golden gaze.

“Is something amusing, Lady Twilight?” Kir asked, his expression slightly confused.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just… well, Pinkie can be a little ‘difficult’ to manage,” Twilight tried to explain. “She means well, but if I had to guess, she’s probably driving poor Moth crazy with party plans and trying to explain ‘Pin the Tail on the Pony.’”

Kir’s expression shifted, a hint of confusion in his voice. “Moth?”

“That’s what Pinkie called him. You know, short for Master of the Halls.” Twilight elaborated. “He was the quilin noble that we first met when we crashed.”

“I see...” The Lord Prince hesitated for a moment, as if digesting what he had been told before he responded in a serious tone. “I believe I understand why they have not returned, then. That is something I should have considered given how quickly you were willing to share yours.”

Twilight’s amusement faded a bit at the gravity of the quilin’s tone.

“Wait, did we... do something wrong?”

“It is nothing to be overly concerned about, but I am afraid a minor cultural faux-pas may have occurred. One that I had not considered in my excitement,” Lord Prince Kir attempted to explain, bringing a hoof to his chest. “You see, quilin names are a deeply personal affair, not something to be given out and used lightly. In many ways, our names define who and what we are, and as such, they are shared only with those we trust absolutely. Those that we consider our friends or equals. For others, such as acquaintances and those who serve under us, we are referred to by our titles; as I am most commonly referred to as Lord Prince or Scientist Supreme. For somelin to use a personal name without invitation is considered akin to declaring authority over an individual, which is quite offensive to minor nobles such as the Master of the Halls.”

“Wait, so what you’re saying is that telling me your name and letting us call you Kir...?”

“Was intended to be a gesture of friendship and trust. I had not realized that perhaps for ponies it would not be the case,” Kir confirmed. “Aside from yourselves, my station only allows me to be on a true name basis with the other Princes. And I’m afraid other nobles will likely prefer that you call them by their titles.”

“Okay, so… ummm, what would it mean to a quilin if Pinkie were to ‘give’ them a name and start calling them by it?” Twilight asked, her demeanor now more serious and worry gnawing at her as she realized just what a complex situation the Lord Prince had revealed to her.

“For all intents and purposes, it would indicate that she is superior in some way to the quilin in question. Which would be…”

“Insulting,” Twilight finished, biting her lower lip as she remembered Sai’s amused reaction to Pinkie’s nickname for the larger noble.

“Indeed. However, thankfully, the Master of the Halls has very little in the way of formal authority, and I trust my attache can defuse the situation. I shall personally attend to the matter and explain the misunderstanding upon our arrival,” Kir reassured Twilight. “It is nothing to worry about.”

“Worried?” Twilight forced a smile, a bit of fray showing in her mane as she tried to push the sudden image of Pinkie Pie locked away forever in a quilin dungeon. Or worse: Banished to some impossibly distant planet and locked in a dungeon in the place she was banished to. “Who’s worried? I’m not worried.”

Twilight, distracted as she was, barely registered the warbly, familiar sound while Kir’s ears perked, causing him to look about.

“What was th--?”

“My Lord Prince!” a lofty, poised tone suddenly rang out as the doorway from which Kir had made his introduction earlier was opened outward. “Your Lady Rarity has arrived.”

All eyes turned to the mare now standing radiant in the doorway. Her mane perfectly curled in its signature fashion and her coat practically gleaming, a light sprinkle of diamond-dust glitter sparkled against her fur like a fine makeup.

Her outfit was absolutely gorgeous to behold, even for Twilight, who often considered herself blind in terms of fashion sense. An elegant golden wrap of the material that Rarity had pointed out before, it was tucked and folded in a manner that was quite un-Equestrian, leaving her forelegs bare, yet draping over her shoulders, chest, and back to cover her flank. It was obvious that the seamstress had taken some time to alter the dress as well, as the the trailing golden fabric hanging off her otherwise snuggly-held body dangled a few scant inches off of the ground.

“I trust I am not overdressed for the occasion.” Rarity smiled winningly, one hoof reaching up to brush back a loose tassel of her mane.

Twilight watched the mare for another second before taking note of where her attention was directed and followed the white unicorn’s gaze.

Next to her, Kir stood, eyes wide and clearly stunned with his mouth hanging slightly open.

‘Wow, I guess some things cross species barriers well enough,’ Twilight thought to herself as she rolled her eyes.

The Lord Prince recovered quickly with a shake of his head and smiled warmly, nodding to the mare as she approached them.

“Not at all, Lady Rarity,” he assured her. “Good things are certainly worth waiting for.”

A sudden clearing of the throat brought everypony’s (and one quilin’s) attention to the only other occupant in the room, who had gone unnoticed amid Rarity’s entrancing entrance.

“Perhaps, but I think everypony has waited quite long enough, Your Majesty, don’t you?” the Doctor commented, Twilight looking over her shoulder to see him straightening his bow tie. He gave himself an appraising look in the crystal mirror hanging on the wall and ran a hoof back over his spiky mane before he trotted over to the rest of the gathered quadrupeds. “Let’s go make an impression.”

Much like the light-giving crystal chandeliers inside the Science Spire, the ambient light radiating down from overhead as the three ponies and quilin prince walked the Golden Roads was a deep indigo shade, giving a familiar distinction to the late dusk hour. The streets that had been empty earlier were now thick with small, short-horned quilin who were moving out of the various spires, milling over the roads in small groups, conversing in a relaxed manner to one another as they went about their business.

There must have been hundreds of them walking along the Golden Roads now... Thousands, even.

And, Twilight noticed, each one wore a colored stole, the tight-knit groups seeming to bear matching sets as they moved along.

Most of this hoof-traffic was going against them, she realized, but the quilin who approached them immediately became quiet, giving the three alien ponies and the quilin prince a wide berth and a respectful bow of the head. And as Twilight checked over her shoulder a few times, she took note of many amazed stares as the Lord Prince passed them by, clearly recognizing the beings flanking either side of the Lord Prince as being unknown and unusual creatures.

Still, aside from the looks, none of the smaller aliens questioned or said a word to the group, merely stepping aside as they moved on.

“I see your assistant wasn’t kidding,” Rarity broke the odd silence, keeping in step to one side of Prince Kir while the other two ponies walked along his opposite flank. Her tone made it clear that she was stunned at seeing so many of the alien quilin whom, until now, she had only encountered in small groups or individually. “The sun goes down and everypon-- er... everylin comes out of hiding.”

“Well, the beginning of the Dim Cycle is the end of the official work day,” Kir explained, his voice soft but maintaining a regal essence as he continued to move forward, offering no acknowledgement to the smaller quilin. “They have earned some time to relax.”

“I am curious, Kir. What is the significance of those dangling scarves they are all wearing?” the Doctor spoke up suddenly, his expression curious.

“Oh, those are Spire Stoles,” Kir answered somewhat off-hoofedly. “They are a symbol of which Spire the wearer works for. The color of the fabric indicates the Spire itself, and the symbols on either end indicate their position within that Spire.”

“I see. So it acts as a form of identification then?” the Doctor queried.

“More or less.”

“We do something like that,” Rarity nodded, drawing attention back to herself. “During Winter Wrap-Up. Ponies are divided into teams based on their abilities and are given special outfits to that effect.” The fashionista tapped her lip thoughtfully for a moment before adding with a smile: “You know what? I could work up something for the four of us along the same lines while we are here; try and indulge in some of the local culture.”

“Rarity, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the Doctor intervened quickly, his tone drawing Twilight away from a group of morose, exhausted-looking quilin that were passing them by, each wearing black stoles with bright red triangular markings.

“Oh, pish posh, Doctor. We are guests here and you know what they say: ‘When in Roan, do as the Roanans do.’”

“Okay, Rarity,” Twilight spoke up, her tone lined with snark at the comment her friend had made. “Speaking as somepony that has actually been to Roan, I can tell you that you do not want to do as the Roanans do.”

“Why? What do they do?” Kir asked, clearly not catching the meaning of Rarity’s proverb or Twilight’s objection to it.

“Turn to stone, mostly,” the Doctor answered, drawing a confused look from Rarity and an amused snicker from Twilight that she could not suppress. “Long story, but let me tell you: That was one wild party.”

The Doctor suddenly stopped in place, his hooves clicking on the soft metal under them as the two mares and noble quilin managed a few more steps before also pausing to look back to him curiously.

“Speaking of parties...” The stallion grinned, his ears perking and twitching slightly as he made out a faint, yet distinct sound. “Does anypony else hear music?”

“Remarkable! I have not seen so many attending a Banquet in all my time as-- What in the name of the Crowns?” Kir observation was cut short as he gaped, unsure of what was happening in front of him.

“Twilight...” Rarity deadpanned as she moved past the doors leading back into the room where they had first arrived, the two pony mares and the quilin prince unconsciously folding their ears back in order to protect their sensitive hearing.

“Yes, Rarity?” the lavender unicorn answered, her tone equally flat.

“You realize what our mistake here was?”

“We told Pinkie Pie there was a party. And then sent her off to prepare for it without supervision.”

“Spot on,” Rarity confirmed.

The room itself had been completely rearranged, with the music, upbeat and certainly Equestrian in nature, playing from a familiar-looking record player with a large audio-horn attached to belt out the tune as it sat on the stage that had certainly not been present the last time they were there.

Then there was the crowd of the taller quilin, at least a hundred of them standing side by side, mesmerized by what was on the stage. Most of them were physically of the same stature as the Master of the Halls, and while their horns were roughly similar as well, their clean, polished scales were of a wide range of hues that covered the spectrum as much as any group of ponies. Some were heavily-wrapped in regal, elegant garments while more than a few wore nothing at all, which Kir had lead the trio of ponies to expect.

On the stage, not surprisingly at the center of attention, was a dancing, juggling, and singing pink mare wearing...

What... the... hay...?

“Where... in the name of Celestia... did she get that outfit?” Rarity asked through clenched teeth, her voice cracking as it was obvious that the garment in question utterly offended her refined tastes in fashion.

“What’s the matter, you don’t remember packing that either?” The Doctor smirked, clearly amused by the mare’s stage outfit.

“It’s Pinkie Pie, Rarity. You’ve known her longer than I have.” Twilight shook her head, her face in one hoof as she fought back a horrible blush. “You should know better than to ask those kinds of questions.”

“Well, at least it’s better than that awful getup she threw together in Appleloosa,” Rarity sighed in resignation.

The outfit, (or perhaps costume would be more appropriate), was red, black, and white, and clearly fashioned to look ridiculous. In the Doctor’s mind, it harkened back to the harlequin outfits of Earth’s theatrical traditions, often mistaken for the court jesters of the Medieval Age. (A common misconception, as the style of dress had actually come about during the Renaissance). Although he had never seen such an analogue at all during his time on Equis, he supposed such a similarity in cultures was hardly out of the question.

It was certainly in tune with her personality, but the one thing that confused him was why, in place of her own cutie mark, the outfit had a triple diamond design that was actually more reminiscent of Rarity’s.

“Better dance routine too. When did she learn how to use her hind hooves to juggle like that?” Twilight asked.

“I do believe she’s been practicing that for the twins; I hear they simply adore it.” Rarity opined, her eyes dancing around as they followed her friend’s enthusiastic motions. “Glad she found another audience that can appreciate the... Oh, my!”

“Your friend is remarkably... flexible,” Kir offered, watching in astonishment as the performer continued with her routine.

“Ouch. That looked... well, she seems to be fine in any case. Although honestly, I didn’t know ponies could bend that way,” the Doctor remarked.

“We can’t.” Twilight winced, feeling a sympathetic pain running down her spine as she tried to come to grips with what she just witnessed. She was still unable to pull herself away as the song wound down, ending with a stage-show slide on her hind legs, her forelegs in the air with a large smile on her face and her chest heaving a bit from the exertion.

The music ended and silence filled the hall for a few tense seconds, the pink mare’s enormous blue eyes darting around as she held her smile in place, hoping beyond hope that this would not be a repeat of her ill-fated Appleoosa performance.

After all, that song and dance routine ended up starting a war.

After a moment longer, a series of excited cheers filled the air, hooves stomping wildly against the metal floor in a cacophony that could only be the applause of an equine audience.

Pinkie’s smile ceased to be forced as she stood, looking over the audience for a moment before looking up towards the stairs and then waving excitedly towards her friends.

Onto the stage with her rushed out a familiar quilin, his stole and vestment still in place as he moved to the mare’s side and brought a foreleg out as if the audience’s attention could be focused any more on the alien mare.

“My Lords and Ladies!” Silver called out, his voice as strong as any herald as he called over the gathered applause. “Presenting our esteemed guest! The first visitor to ever set hoof within the Dome of the Last City since its founding! Former Sovereign of Party City, Premier Party Planner, Master of the Bakery, Bearer of Laughter and Champion of Equestria, Pinkamina Diane Pie!”

“Wait a minute. Sovereign of what now?” Rarity tilted her head as she whispered, perplexed by the titles while the Doctor and Twilight snickered.

“Oh my Celestia... she’s actually using that?”

“Well, it is technically true, Twilight. She was Queen of Party City for what... a full eighteen hours before we dragged her out of there on a stretcher?”

“AND ABOVE ALL!” a deep, booming voice quieted the crowd, drawing attention to a figure that had been hidden towards the back of the stairs.

He was as tall as Kir and at least twice as wide, a broadly-built quilin with three sets of short white whiskers that ran down either side of his snout. His bright blue scales were polished to a gleaming shine as he smoothed a hoof back over his long, curved horns.
Around his neck, he wore an impossibly bright orange scarf that trailed down his back almost like a split cape, the clashing color causing Rarity to wobble on her hooves on the verge of collapsing.

“Kir? Who is that?” the Doctor asked quietly.

“The Jester Prince, the Lord Entertainer,” the Lord Prince explained, also keeping his voice low. “Seventh Crown of the Last City. He rules over all social events and all of our forms of cultural and artistic expression.”

“Oh, great... a critic. That’s just what Pinkie needs,” Twilight muttered in a low, worried tone, now hoping that her friend’s stunts had managed to impress more than just the assembled lesser nobles.

“That was, without ANY doubt, the finest performance I have EVER seen!” the large quilin boomed with such volume that, when coupled with the acoustics of the room, could have easily been mistaken for the Royal Canterlot Voice. “You are MOST welcome to our city, Lady Pinkamina!”

“Thanks, Prince Wu!” Pinkie bowed her head respectfully, the simple acknowledgement drawing a small gasp from some in the crowd, more than a few sets of eyes shifting to watch the Prince’s reaction.

That reaction being the Prince grinning a grin that nearly outshone Pinkie’s as he let out a soulful belly laugh that spoke of good cheer; a rolling laughter that the lower noble quilin were soon sharing.

“And on behalf of my fellow ponies and our good friend, Prince Kir...” Pinkie brought a hoof up to gesture towards the three equines and quilin on the staircase looking down over the crowd. “I hope to make tonight a night that nolin will ever forget!”

“Oh good. And here I thought this was going to be awkward,” the Doctor managed, smiling as every golden eye looked up towards them. A cheer went up among the crowd as the other ponies nodded, their reactions varied as they were shoved into the spotlight.

Pinkie had won the approval of the gathered nobility and yet another Prince.

Two down, seven to go.

It was time to meet the rest of the Nine Crowns.