Big Macintosh reached up with a hoof and carefully adjusted his bow tie, pushing it a little closer to a level angle. Then he blew irritably at a strand of hair that seemed intent on dropping into his eyes. Eventually he gave up and left it there, and began performing the incredibly delicate operation of attaching a pair of brass cufflinks.
After stabbing himself repeatedly with the pin, he finally snapped them in place, and studied himself in the mirror. The stallion staring back at him looked surprisingly sophisticated, considering the age of his father’s old suit. The stubborn strand of hair dangling in front of his face actually looked pretty dashing.
He felt ridiculous.
Why rich folk insisted on wearing clothing this restrictive was beyond him. The suit was tight in all the wrong places, especially around the collar. That and the very feel of the suit made him afraid to carry anything. Or even walk. The thing felt so flimsy he was afraid it would fall apart as soon as he so much as sneezed.
But it was expected for him to dress up fancy for royalty, and it was a small price to pay if he could get the bits necessary to keep the farm running.
He glanced out the window as the steam whistle shrieked, announcing their arrival in Canterlot. The tall, fluted spires of the castle were already visible through the dust-encrusted glass.
Macintosh squeezed himself through the door, nodding at the conductor. The conductor nodded back, mouthing ‘You owe me’.
As he passed by Twilight’s compartment, the unicorn emerged, blinking sleep from her eyes. “We here?” she mumbled.
“Eeyup. Guess here’s where we part ways.”
Both paused for a long moment. “I guess…” Twilight said, “I guess I’ll see you later.”
Before getting off the train, the unicorn ducked back into her compartment to run a brush through her unruly mane. Macintosh paid her no mind, focusing on his carefully rehearsed set of lines.
He must have looked strange as he walked through Canterlot: a powerfully built stallion towering at least four hooves above anypony else, wearing a suit he was obviously not comfortable in.
But if the ponies around him noticed, they gave no sign. One even bumped into him, and kept going, never even missing a beat. The pony pretty much reacted as if he’d simply stumbled.
Macintosh shook his head and kept walking, going over his rehearsed lines once more, attempting to mimic Rarity’s cultured diction. “No, I don’t believe we’ve met. Mah…my sister is the Element of Honesty, though. Ah’m…I’m afraid she couldn’t make it today…”
XXX
Twilight walked straight past the castle guards, flashing them a warm smile. They both nodded respectfully back to her, before turning back to looking passively intimidating.
The unicorn sighed as she entered the castle. Some ponies were put off by that ever-present damp smell of stone, but she found it reassuring, almost. It was a smell she associated with books, with comfort and security in knowledge.
Ponies were unreliable. Their opinions might change at the turn of a bit. But a book’s opinion was always the same. The contents weren’t necessarily carved in stone, but who wanted to read a bound collection of stone tablets?
The odd noblepony bustled past her as she made her way down the opulent castle halls, following a long-memorized route to one of the only sanctuaries she ever had. Her hooves clopped off the marble tiles, echoing past the vases, tapestries and paintings lining the walls. Every now and then she would pause to admire a stained glass window or fresco she hadn’t noticed before. The amount of art in the castle was always a bit overwhelming at first.
Finally, she was at her destination, only a pair of guards and a heavy oak door standing in her way. “Good afternoon,” she said, nodding to the closest one, a rather stocky grey unicorn with a failed attempt at a mustache bristling on his upper lip.
Bristle-Lip raised an eyebrow at her. “Can I help you with anything?”
“No. I’m fine. I just need to get into the library, so if you don’t mind…”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” the other guard said. “But we’re not supposed to let anypony into the library. It’s been like that for a couple weeks.”
Twilight frowned. “But…I need to do some research. Can’t you just let me in for a couple hours?”
“Our orders were clear,” Bristle-Lip said. “They came from the princess herself.”
Twilight’s frown deepened. Celestia had ordered the library to be closed? The pony who praised the written word in all its forms?
Note to self: talk to the princess.
Besides, there was still one more thing up her metaphorical sleeve. “Well,” she said, fishing around in one of her saddlebags. “I also happen to have something from the princess herself.”
She brought out a folded sheet of parchment, and levitated it over to the guards. Bristle-Lip grabbed it in a fist of magic and snatched it from her grip, bringing it to his face. Suspicion turned to shock, and then to awe. He read it again, and then a third time, just in case the lettering was playing a cruel prank on him.
“What’s it say?” the other guard asked. Bristle-Lip wordlessly passed the document over, looking at the unicorn mare with newfound respect.
Guard number two frowned, and passed the parchment back to Bristle-Lip. “What do we do about it? It’s got the Royal Seal…”
“I say we let her in.”
“Our orders were clear. Nopony is allowed in.”
“Yeah, well, I bet this unicorn’s got something to do with it.”
Guard number two paused, considering. “All right,” he finally said. “I’ll open the door. But you don’t breathe a word of this. Understand?”
Twilight nodded, folding the parchment back up and replacing it in her saddlebag.
“Good,” the guard said, glancing around and swinging the door open. “I’ll give you three hours.” He held up a hoof, forestalling her objections. “That’s the best I can do. Even that’s pushing it. Take it or leave it.”
Twilight sighed and walked past, trying to suppress her disappointment. Three hours was barely enough to get started. Back before she’d gone to Ponyville, she’d spend days in the library, having meals brought to her and sleeping on a few cushions brought in for that purpose…
She quickly closed the door behind her, after noticing that the guards had been staring at her flanks for a little longer than she was comfortable with. Once the door slammed shut, the musty smell of old books permeated her nostrils. A lazy smile spread across her face as she looked over the massive rows of shelves, each one packed with books.
The fact that the library was deserted didn’t bother her in the slightest. She knew it as well as the back of her hoof, and was already picking out shelves to start checking for possible leads.
Twilight trotted down several of the aisles, pulling books off the shelves with her magic and spreading them across a nearby table. If three hours were all she had, she might be able to get started. If she didn’t waste any time, that is.
At the far end of the library was a little-used passage to the throne room, disguised by a bookcase. Maybe she could catch the princess when she was finished with the day’s petitioners. Maybe then she would listen.
XXX
“Oh, dear me. That won’t do at all. Just trim a little off the edge…perfect! Now you’re looking presentable!”
Rarity glanced up, cutting off her monologue as somepony knocked at the door. “Allow me to direct your attention to the sign on the door,” she said, turning back to her latest design. “It says the store is closed, in case you can’t read.”
“Ah don’t have time for this, Rarity. Now let me in.”
The white unicorn swung the door open, forcing a smile onto her face. “Oh, Applejack. So good to see you.”
Applejack looked around the shop, noting the bits of fabric strewn everywhere. “Ah can see you’re busy, so Ah’ll make it quick. Sweetie Belle around here somewhere?”
Rarity frowned. “Why…no. You just missed her, in fact. Your sister and that other friend of hers showed up not twenty minutes ago. Is something wrong?” she asked, upon seeing Applejack’s expression.
“So now she’s got her friends on it,” the earth pony muttered.
The alabaster unicorn looked outside. There was Rainbow Dash, and…my, my. Who was that stallion beside her? She made a mental note to ask her friend who this newcomer was. Surely a well-built pegasus like that could do with some more civilized company.
Rarity blinked. Applejack had just asked her something. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
Applejack scowled. “Did you hear anything? Like where they might be going?”
“Applejack, you worry too much,” Rarity said, a sudden idea striking her. She quickly levitated a bolt of crimson silk before her and examined it closely. “She’s just gone off with her friends on another of their escapades. I’m so glad they refrained from that ‘Cutie Mark Crusader whatever they planned on doing’ exclamation. They actually kept it down, for once.”
The earth pony fought to keep her expression neutral as Rarity examined another bolt of silk. Rainbow Dash and Soarin slowly walked into the boutique and stood awkwardly beside her. “Well, if you remember anything, let me know.”
Rarity paused for a moment. “There is something,” she said hesitantly. “I’m not sure I heard them right, but your sister was saying something about zap apples. I thought for a second you might be harvesting those again, but then she seemed to change the topic.”
Applejack swallowed, trying to ignore a niggling of worry. “Did you hear what she was talking about after that?”
“Oh, she mentioned timber wolves. I must say, you really should try to limit what ideas go into her head. Timber wolves; what a silly old mare’s tale.”
Rarity glanced over to Applejack, frowning as she took in the expression of dawning horror on her friend’s face. “Something the matter?”
“That idiot filly…Ah swear to Celestia…” She cut herself off and wheeled around. “Rainbow! Soarin! Move your rumps! We gotta move now!”
Rarity blinked. “Soarin? The Soarin? What are you-“
“Long story,” the Wonderbolt said sheepishly.
“Enough of that,” Applejack cut in. “Rarity, if you’ve got your facts straight, my sister’s gone to th’ Everfree Forest. An’ if Ah’m right about what she’s got planned…you’re either coming or you’re not. Choose now.”
Rarity sniffed. “Well, I daresay you could use a little subtlety on this…is this a rescue mission? Very well. I will accompany you.”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Great. Now can we please move? We don’t have time to waste!”
“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash said. “We’ve wasted enough time already. Me and Soarin’ll fly ahead. We’ll try and see if we can spot them through the canopy.”
“Just do it!” Applejack yelled. The two pegasi jumped, and quickly flew off. The earth pony then turned to Rarity. “An’ Ah don’t want to hear any complainin’, y’hear?”
The alabaster unicorn studied her face. “You’re sure my sister is in danger? Think carefully.”
Applejack nodded grimly. “Ah’m sure.”
Rarity met her eyes, a firm set to her jaw. “Then why are we still here?”
As the two galloped out of town, Applejack fought to keep her mind from repeating one horrible question. What if we’re too late?
XXX
Canterlot Castle certainly lived up to its reputation. The imposing structure towered over the rest of the city, displaying architectural feats that would be impossible without magic. Massive, fluted spires rose hundreds of metres into the air, and vaulted archways cast great shadows over the cobblestone path.
The keep was the icing on the metaphorical cake. To say that it was breathtaking didn’t do the marvel of architecture justice. The white stone making up the keep walls shone in the afternoon sun, the fluted masonry curving gracefully up the walls. It seemed to be hewn from the very mountain Canterlot stood on, merging seamlessly with the rock below. It was a structure that had stood for millennia, and would stand for uncountable ages to come.
For a pony used to acres of apple trees, it was an intimidating sight.
I wonder if the builders were just compensating for something, Macintosh thought dryly as he walked through the series of vaulted archways leading up to the keep. Either that, or the castle had been originally built for something far larger than ponies.
The draught horse joined a steady stream of dignitaries and nobles walking up and down a great stone staircase. Several Royal Guards stood on either side, the sun gleaming off their burnished armor. Silver lances inlaid with gold filigree were cradled against their shoulders, barbed heads pointing at the sky.
Macintosh eyed the guards warily as he passed, but they paid him no mind. Their eyes remained fixed straight ahead, a sternly neutral expression welded to their features.
The great wooden doors lay open before him. He paused at the threshold for a moment, and walked through, shaking his head. It looked like a full-grown dragon could fit through those doors. Focus, he told himself sternly. Just go in, talk to the princess, get the loan. You can sightsee later.
He continued on through the palace, stubbornly ignoring the fine tapestries and paintings appearing every ten metres or so. The throne room lay at the end of the hallway, a squadron of guards standing at the entrance. Unlike the guards outside, their lances were unadorned, deadly steel. They glared at the nobles and merchants passing by, as if every single one was an assassin.
The draught horse continued to the great doors, pausing to straighten his bow tie. Here we go…
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Macintosh lowered his hoof from the oak door. “Uh…Seein’ the princess?”
The guard chuckled. “Get in line. Lots of ponies want to see the princess.”
Macintosh’s heart sank as he realized that what he originally thought was a milling crowd was actually a line of ponies waiting to be addressed. “Take my advice,” the guard said, lowering his voice. “Reserve a spot with the scribe over there, and go sightseeing. Last I checked, there was a two-day wait.”
Two days? the stallion thought with a dull sort of horror. Applejack’s gonna be furious!
“Is there any way Ah could get in early?” he asked, cultured voice forgotten. “Ah’m in a bit of a rush…”
The guard shook his head. “There’s no way. Princess Celestia probably doesn’t even have time to see her student. That forest fire down south is causing a real manurestorm.”
Macintosh sighed. “Thank y’kindly,” he mumbled, walking over to the flustered-looking unicorn standing beside the door, a clipboard levitating beside him.
“Uh…hi there,” he ventured.
The unicorn looked him over. “Another petitioner? Great. What is it now? Land dispute? Complaining about the taxes? Hurry up. I don’t have all day.”
Macintosh blinked. “Actually, Ah just need t’ ask for a loan.”
“Oh,” the scribe replied, flipping through a sheaf of papers. “That makes things easier. I should be able to fit you in…about noon tomorrow. Get here early. Next!”
“Is that it?” the stallion asked, flummoxed. “You don’t need my name or-“
“Next!” the unicorn yelled, ignoring him.
Macintosh bit off an angry retort and walked away. Noon tomorrow. Fantastic. I don’t even have a place to stay for the night.
The guard’s advice returned to him. Go sightseeing.
Fine. He would do just that.
XXX
Mirrors.
That was just about all Macintosh’s stunned mind could register. Mirrors. Dozens of them, making up a hall that stood open at either end. He’d overheard Twilight talking about this hall once. At the time, he wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but this had to be it.
It was the Hall of Radiance. Perfectly oriented east to west, and mirrors positioned just so, to reflect the rays of the sun throughout the hall. Just before sunrise and sunset, the reflections were perfectly aligned, making the corridor almost blindingly bright. According to the studious unicorn, it was something that had to be seen to be believed.
Macintosh couldn’t help but share that opinion now. Only when seeing it could he appreciate the meticulous care that went into the hall of mirrors. Each silvered pane had to be perfectly positioned; a shift of even a fraction of a degree would skew the entire sequence. The precision required for such a feat…it simply boggled the mind.
It was nearing sunset, and the reflections were only just beginning to bounce off the mirrors and onto the floor. The stallion settled back onto his haunches, and waited.
Minutes later, his patience was rewarded as the sun reached the critical point in the sky, illuminating the entire corridor in blinding light. Macintosh squinted and turned his face away, dazzled by the sheer intensity of it. But something about it looked…odd. In the glimpse he’d gotten before the light had become too much, it seemed one of the mirrors had…simply vanished.
You’re seeing things, he chided himself. Too much light.
Sure enough, when he looked back, the light had faded, and the mirror was right where it should have been. Even so, his curiosity had been piqued.
Macintosh sighed and walked into the hall, pausing before the mirror that had seemingly vanished. It didn’t seem anything out of the ordinary at all. “You’re seeing things, big fella,” he remarked to himself, admiring his reflection in the silvered pane. If the clothing wasn’t so ludicrously impractical, he could almost get used to it.
Still, the mirror continued to tickle something in the back of his mind. Something was off, ever so slightly. You’re over-thinking it, he thought, reaching out with a hoof to reassure himself. There’s nothing wrong with this mirror. You’re just being completely para-
His hoof met nothing but air. Macintosh frowned, and leaned forward farther. It was difficult to judge distances with the compounded reflections in the glass, but he was sure his hoof should have touched it by now.
Every time he reached forward, the mirror seemed to retreat, almost. This is ridiculous, Macintosh thought, stepping closer. Why can’t I even touch a stupid-
He took another step and suddenly found himself in a narrow corridor, the mirror that had confused him so placed at the end. What the-
He looked back, to find the hall of mirrors exactly as he had left it. A guard even walked by, and nodded toward him.
Macintosh stepped back into the hall, and peered closely at the suspicious mirror from a new angle. It seemed exactly as before, except…
There. At a certain angle, the mirror abruptly seemed to disappear, and the stone wall of the corridor could be clearly seen. Well I’ll be, Macintosh thought. It’s an optical illusion.
The mirrors weren’t just positioned to reflect the sun. They also reflected each other in such a way that the mirror at the end of the corridor appeared to be part of a seamless wall.
The draught horse paused. Clearly, if the corridor was so well hidden, it was somewhere he definitely shouldn’t be. On the other hoof, curiosity was screaming at him to follow it and see where it went.
Granny Smith always said curiosity killed the cat, he thought grimly. He hesitated for a moment longer. “Who am I kiddin’?” he muttered, starting down the passageway.
XXX
“Did we have to go back into these woods?”
Applebloom cast a sidelong glance at the nervous pegasus beside her, grinning slightly. “You scared or something?”
“No,” Scootaloo said defensively, completely ruining the effect by nervously glancing over at a nearby bush. “It’s just…there’s no room to fly here.”
“You can’t even fly yet,” Sweetie Belle pointed out.
“It’s…it’s instinctive, okay?” Scootaloo shot back.
“Sure it is,” Applebloom teased. “But seriously, relax. We’ve been through here before.”
“Sure,” the pegasus filly said. “And we ran straight into a cockatrice.”
Applebloom paused. “Well…that’s beside th’ point! Jus’-“
“What was that?” Scootaloo yelped, jumping back from the bush.
“It’s nothing, you big chicken,” Applebloom sighed. “Let’s just keep going. We ain’t gonna get the zap-apples t’ grow if we just stand here.”
“Wait,” Sweetie Belle said, halting in her tracks. “That’s what we’re here for? I thought it was…well, something else.”
Applebloom shook her head. “Just look for some zap-apple trees. We’ll figure it out from there.”
Scootaloo followed, casting a nervous glance at the bushes. For a moment, she was sure she saw something move in the shadows. Get a hold of yourself, she thought. It’s just your imagination. I bet Rainbow Dash wouldn’t be this scared.
A pair of eyes watched the filly from the concealing darkness as she moved away. For a moment, the creature simply sat there, pondering what it had seen. The yellow one smelled…familiar, almost. Perhaps it was…
The timber wolf moved back into the deep forest, leaving not even a rustling leaf in its path. It was no coincidence that the filly was here, at this time. The pack leader would want to know about this.
XXX
The air smelled musty and cold. The only light came from what was reflected through the Hall of Radiance, and at this point, it had faded to a paltry amount.
It was almost enough to make Macintosh consider turning back. But if he did, he knew he’d regret it. That had always been one of his faults. Legendary self-control? Eeyup. Strength? He had it in spades. Resistance to curiosity? Non-existent.
Almost against his will, his mind conjured up an image of an embarrassing incident in his foalhood, when he decided to investigate exactly why he wasn’t allowed to drink hard cider…by drinking nearly half a barrel. Luckily, Granny Smith had decided his splitting hangover was enough punishment.
Macintosh jerked his mind back to the present and continued down the corridor, treading carefully on the unlit floor. The hidden passage sloped down, presumably into the bowels of the castle. The smell of must and earth told him it had already taken him underground. Now he was starting to have some genuine misgivings. To his knowledge, the only things in castles that were located underground were dungeons. Well…hidden vaults too, but he’d only read about those in the occasional novel borrowed from Twilight.
Nevertheless, dungeons were definitely not somewhere he wanted to be. Curiosity could only take him so far. Time to put this out of his mind.
Macintosh nodded to himself and turned around. Only to have his shoulder and flank catch against the stone wall. You’re kidding me, he thought to himself, trying again. The cold brickwork dug uncomfortably into his skin, and he had to stop, or else become completely wedged. In his curiosity, he had failed to notice the passage was designed for somepony significantly smaller than him.
A cold tendril of fear curled around his heart. The walls suddenly seemed to be closing in on him, and although his chest heaved, he couldn’t take in enough air…
Snap out of it! he yelled at himself. You can’t turn around, so just follow the passage to the end, and turn around there. Simple as that.
The faint glow of torchlight was just visible ahead of him, and it bolstered his resolve. Who cares if it’s not somewhere I’m supposed to be. I’ll be back on my way before anypony even notices.
The passage opened out into a plain stone hallway, lit only by a few torch sconces mounted on the wall. A single wooden door was located at the far side, and seemed to be the only way in or out, apart for the secret passage.
Everything about it screamed that he shouldn’t be there. Macintosh couldn’t agree more. He quickly turned around and started to head back up the passageway…and froze when the wooden door opened and voices echoed through the hall. “Thine fear is most unnecessary. I merely wish to check the security of-“
Macintosh locked eyes with the mare who had just entered the hall, flanked by a pair of guards. For a moment, neither moved. Then the stallion exploded into action and fled up the passageway.
“Seize him!” the mare barked, and rapid hoofbeats began to sound behind the fleeing draught horse.
Of all the rotten times to-
Macintosh suddenly realized that his hooves were no longer hitting the stone floor. A midnight blue glow surrounded his limbs, and to his horror, he began drifting back toward the hall.
“Ah swear, this is just a big misunderstandin’” he started as the mare pulled him back into the hallway.
“Really?” the mare asked. “We think otherwise.”
“Leave us,” she said to the guards. “We can handle this ruffian.”
The two guards bowed, and retreated through the door, seeming visibly relieved. “Most prefer to steer clear of this place,” the mare explained. “And many with good reason.”
Macintosh swallowed. “Ah…Ah take it Ah shouldn’t be here?”
“In truth, you can be anywhere you wish to be.”
The stallion frowned. “That don’t answer my question…”
“Let us ask you a question, red stallion,” the mare said, releasing him from her magic. Macintosh let out a slight grunt as he landed on the ground. “How did you find the passageway? It is known only to a select few. Most are fooled by the illusion.”
“Ah just…somethin’ didn’t look right,” Macintosh mumbled, slowly backing toward the passageway. For some reason, this mystery mare made his hair stand on end. Maybe it was the fact that she was an alicorn, which to his knowledge were exceedingly rare.
“Please don’t try to escape. We can subdue you just as easily as before, so it would serve you no purpose to run.”
The stallion froze with a hoof in midair. “All right. Ah get that Ah’m not supposed to be here. Can you just let me go ‘bout my-“
“Are you nervous in our presence?” the mare asked, sweeping her starry mane over a shoulder. “Even if you do not recognize us, are we…am I…still that…unnerving?”
Macintosh froze. Something about her tone told him that he was treading thin ice. It would be wise to choose his next words very, very carefully. “Not particularly. This place jus’ creeps me out a bit.”
The mare nodded. “Then perhaps we should leave. This way.” She gestured toward the door with a jerk of her head.
The stallion followed hesitantly. “Is…that it? You don’t think Ah’m a spy, or somethin’?”
“A spy would know full well what he had ventured into,” the mare countered, swinging the door open with a tendril of magic. “And, more importantly, he probably wouldn’t allow himself to be found.”
Macintosh frowned. Was that a jab of some kind? “What’s that s’posed to mean?”
“You would prefer I label you a spy and interrogate you as such?”
“That’s not what I said!” Macintosh explained, backtracking frantically.
The mare laughed, a beautiful musical sound. “We only tease, wanderer. Would you favor me with your name?”
“Macintosh Apple,” the stallion said. “My…uh…sister…she’s th’ Element of Honesty an’ all…”
“Oh really?” the mare said, smiling. “And what would you be doing in Canterlot, so far from Ponyville?”
“Long story. Ah need to talk to Celestia ‘bout gettin’ a loan.”
“I’m certain that can be arranged,” the mare said, leading Macintosh into a more well-lit corridor. A pair of guards frowned at them as they passed, but relaxed at slight shake of the mystery mare’s head.
“Ah never got your name,” the stallion supplied, hoping to continue the conversation. Anything to keep his mind off the odd hallway. Just what had he found?
The mare smiled. “Just call us…me…Luna.”
XXX
“Shots!” Midnight called, as he walked into Unshorn Fetlocks, a tavern located near the palace. “A tankard of apple mead, if you please.”
The earth pony bartender glanced up from the counter he was polishing, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Midnight! Great to see you again! Tell you what: this one’s on the house.”
The black unicorn waved a hoof. “Shots, that really isn’t necessary-“
“I insist,” Shots replied, sliding the tankard over. “It’s the least I can do. My wife loves that painting you did of her garden. Might actually have saved our marriage.”
“You give me too much credit,” Midnight said modestly, accepting the mead. “I’m sure your natural charm had something to do with it.”
“I’m not sure if you’re being sarcastic, or if that was a genuine compliment.”
Midnight smiled, sipping his mead. “Compliment, Shots. It was a compliment.”
"With you, it's always hard to tell," Shots replied, going to help another customer. The two had become fast friends after the unicorn had come in one night for a drink. Turned out Shots liked to sketch in his free time, except he mostly did portraits. His work was good, if a little gritty and unformed, and the two spent a pleasant couple hours discussing their various projects.
Shots had been quick to show him a charcoal sketch he kept in a safe under the bar. It was one of his earlier works, he had said sheepishly, but it was by far his favourite. Mainly because the subject was none other than Princess Celestia.
The sketch was fairly rough, and seemed rushed. Several of the details were omitted. But the princess’ face had been rendered in painstaking detail.
When asked why only the face appeared finished, Shots had laughed nervously. It was the only part he could accurately remember, he’d admitted.
Midnight conjured up the image of the sketch in his mind, comparing it to a suitable memory of Celestia. It was easy to see why that was the case. The alicorn’s face was captivating in its beauty. To attempt to describe it wouldn’t do it justice. She was…perfect.
“What’s with the look? You drunk already?”
Midnight roused himself. He’d been staring blankly into space, and bearing an admittedly remarkable resemblance to many of the drunks slumped over their tables. “I was just thinking,” he said.
Shots raised his eyebrows. “Got an idea for another project, have you?”
“Possibly,” the unicorn replied, sipping his mead again. It wasn’t actually that good, but he didn’t really come there to drink, anyway. The tavern served as a good place to clear his head. If he tried to relax in the gardens, he’d find himself painting flowers before he knew it.
The earth pony’s sketch had got him thinking. Portraits were never something he’d really liked. There wasn’t really much to be done about the perspective. It was either profile, three-quarter view or straight on. And he preferred static subjects, that didn’t require cajoling into a certain pose.
And yet he was now feeling an odd compulsion to paint one. And of a very particular equine, at that. Curious, indeed.
Midnight blinked. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"
Shots chuckled nervously. "I was just pointing out how tense you look. You really need to loosen up sometimes. Have a bit of fun. Hay, I don't think I've ever even seen you drunk."
The black unicorn smiled wryly. "I like to keep my head clear."
The earth pony behind the bar shrugged. "Says the stallion planning his next painting every waking moment. I don't think you'd even talk to me if I didn't sketch at all."
Midnight's eyebrows met. "That is completely uncalled for. I talk to-"
"Name one pony you're friends with who's not an artist."
Midnight opened his mouth to reply, then shut it. "Eh...Does Princess Celestia count?"
Shots' sour look was all the answer he needed.
The door opened behind him, a small bell tinkling to announce the new arrival. Shots looked up, plastering a wide grin on his face. “Welcome to Unshorn Fetlocks! Anythin’ I can get for you to-“
His eyes widened, and he hastily bowed, nearly bashing his head on the counter. The other ponies in the bar quickly did the same thing, conversation trailing off into silence.
Midnight raised an eyebrow, sipping his drink again. Strange. Being the only one in the bar to sit with his back to the door, he had no idea who – or what – had walked in and had such an effect on the patrons. Although if he had to guess…
“Ah, Midnight. I was told I might be able to find you here.”
The black unicorn ignored her, tipping back his tankard and finishing his mead. Only then did he speak. “I’m surprised you came to seek me out personally.”
“Am I above speaking with my subjects every now and then?” Celestia asked.
Midnight chuckled. “I was over this before with your sister. I am not one of your subjects. I came from outside of Equestria, and unless my knowledge of your laws is severely flawed, am a vagrant who is only still here by your good graces.”
He frowned. An odd expression had flashed across the princess’ face when he mentioned her sister. It had only been there for an instant, before it was carefully smoothed over into an indifferent mask. But it had definitely been there.
The solar princess was silent for a long moment. “You there,” she finally said, addressing Shots. “Where have I seen you before?”
The earth pony squeaked in surprise, before drawing himself up and clearing his throat. “The…uh…Summer Sun Festival, your Highness. I was the one…uh…sketching you on the balcony.”
Celestia’s face brightened. “Of course! Shots, is it? It certainly has been a while. Do you still have that sketch?”
Shots blushed furiously. “Well…yes, I do, but it’s more-“
“Good,” Celestia said. “Hang on to it. It would make a good story to tell your foals some day.”
Shots blushed again, looking away. His wife had started showing signs of motherhood several months before. Midnight remembered the night he had announced it with great fondness. His friend had seemed so happy…it was actually one of the only nights Midnght had partaken of more than one tankard of mead. Oddly enough, the flavour had seemed vastly improved after the fifth round. Although he made sure to stop once his thoughts became sluggish. Tipsy was about as far as he wanted to push it.
The white alicorn was silent for another long moment. “Come with me,” she finally said to Midnight. “I would rather we discuss this matter in a more private setting.”
“Of course,” Midnight said, nodding to Shots.
Celestia led him out the door onto the streets of Canterlot. She had just set the sun before coming to find him, it seemed, for Luna’s moon already hung high in the night sky. Most of Canterlot was asleep, save for a few in the taverns too inebriated to remember what night was.
“Even though I haven’t seen you, I have still heard many things,” she finally said, stopping in a small park. “Your art has become quite popular here.”
Midnight shuffled awkwardly. “I’ve been getting requests from many of the nobles for portraits. They have offered substantial sums for my services.”
“But you never accepted,” Celestia said. “Why?”
The black unicorn sighed, adjusting his cloak. “Painting…isn’t something that can be bought. I never plan to paint anything. It just…happens. The money means nothing to me.”
“But you refused to paint what they asked,” Celestia replied. “You refused to paint anything for them.”
“I refused to paint for them because they didn’t truly understand,” Midnight said with sudden vehemence. “They didn’t know what they wanted. ‘Paint me a flower, Midnight. Paint my wife. Paint me a portrait of that wench who caught my eye last night.’”
He shook his head. “I only paint what I find beauty in. The sun silhouetted against the mountains, the morning dew on a leaf, a deer grazing in a field…things that only last an instant, and can never be recreated.”
Midnight chuckled to himself. “It’s…very difficult to explain.”
“Yet you did,” Celestia said warmly. “I understand.”
She was silent for a long moment. “I…want to offer you something. I will not hold it against you if you do not accept.”
Midnight fought to keep his face neutral, heart in his throat. Was she really going to suggest…
“I wish to offer you full citizenship in Equestria, and a position in my court as an artisan. You will have access to any materials you wish for, and all the privileges of a member of the nobility. I will not commission any works from you, and you will be free to paint at your own pace.”
The black unicorn thought for a long moment. It was a fantastic offer, one that many artists would be willing to kill for. It was everything he wanted.
But it held nothing that he needed.
“I…thank you,” he said. “I’m overwhelmed by your generosity. But…I must decline.”
Celestia frowned. “You…don’t want it?”
“I do want it,” Midnight said. “It’s everything I ever hoped for. But…I’ve tried to live my life as freely as possible. My only obligation has been my art. Despite the freedom you say I’d have, I would still be chained down. Please understand, but I can’t accept.”
The solar princess looked at him thoughtfully. “The offer still stands if you change your mind,” she said, raising her wings. With a powerful downstroke, she lifted off the ground and rocketed toward the castle.
“Wait!” Midnight called, although even he wasn’t sure why.
But she was already too far away to hear him.