//------------------------------// // Chapter Five - Not of This World // Story: Grossly Incandescent // by Crack Javelin //------------------------------// With each breath came the putrid stench of waste and decay. It lingered like a bad habit, never fading as if the very smell were seeping into her skin and clothes. Beneath her boots, the floor was coated in a slick layer of brown unmentionables, each footfall kicking up a new wave of stink that only reminded her that what they were stepping through was far from mud. Adria wrinkled her nose. A few paces in front of her, Kirk walked with a calm deliberation. The knight held a smoldering ember of a torch high above his head, the flame’s orange glow just enough to keep the darkness at bay but too dim to illuminate much else. The ceiling was simply too high, the opposing wall too far, and preventing them from exploring another path was an enormous channel of bilgewater and filth that seemed to flow forever through the center of the tunnel. They had been walking in silence for the past thirty minutes but not once did Kirk pause to observe his surroundings or even so much as rotate his head to look around. He only had eyes for the path in front of him, his barbed helmet unmoving as they descended further into the dark bowels of the earth. Adria cleared her throat. “So where are you taking me?” she finally asked. “Blighttown,” Kirk said in his gravel-like voice. “Are you familiar with the place?” “Only in name I’m afraid.” “Then perhaps you know of the men who used to dwell in these tunnels.” Adria paused. “Cannibals,” she breathed out. “Mainly known for the powerful poisons and paralytics they use to subdue their victims. Anyone who intrudes on their domain is likely to become their next meal.” Kirk didn’t bother turning around. “That's all in the past. I’ve long since taken control of these pipelines. I keep them clear. I keep them safe, and nothing can pass through without my knowing.” Kirk continued forward, speaking again after a brief pause. “I’m curious, lady. Who told you about the cannibals that used to stalk these halls? You’ve obviously never been down here yourself judging by the way your eyes shift in the dark or how your heartbeat thunders against the silence.” When Adria said nothing, Kirk let out a low chuckle. “It was Solaire, wasn’t it? He told you it was too risky. Too dangerous. Just the words I would expect from that spineless bastard of a man.” Adria stopped in place, a frown forming on her lips. “Kirk, I can't help but ask. How do you know Solaire?” And for the first time, Kirk stopped as well. As he turned to face her, the rust-black plates of his armor ground against each other in a dull cacophony of grating metal. Adria took a step back. Sharp iron barbs sprouted from every surface of Kirk’s armor. From the massive pauldrons that sat upon his shoulders to the coiling bands of blackened metal that wrapped around his limbs, the thorns that covered him were simply too numerous—too wild—to have been forged by a blacksmith’s hammer. Even the fullhelm that so effectively concealed his face was overgrown with those very same barbs, and Adria could only wonder how he removed it—let alone the rest of the pieces—without skewering his hands on the spikes. It was as if his suit of armor had been reclaimed by nature and like a hateful parasite, engulfed the man still inside. His rough voice cut through the silence. “How do I know him?” he repeated. “Heh... I suppose in the same way that you do, lady.” Adria’s brow furrowed. “You were partners?” Kirk gave a slow nod. “Long ago, me and the man you know as Solaire used to travel together. Me and him, we fought side by side. Against the hollows. Against the world. Against this curse. After everything, Adria, I believed him to be my brother.” “Wh… what happened?” Adria whispered. “He led me down here.” Kirk turned away. “Let’s go. We need to keep moving.” Adria fell in line behind the knight, a hundred thoughts whirling through her brain. In the minutes that followed, she recalled the numerous stories that Solaire had once told her, but the name ‘Kirk’ never once popped up. If what Kirk was saying was true, then whatever had happened between the two must have been something that Solaire was desperately trying to forget. Or he had already forgotten. Adria focused on the figure in front of her. “Kirk, indulge me for just a little longer. How long ago was this?” She received a grunt as a reply. “Please,” she said. Kirk breathed out a deep sigh. “Let’s just say that there are massive trees on the surface that were only saplings when Solaire and I first met.” “Is that long enough ago for the cannibals to still have lived in these tunnels?” Kirk paused once more. “Listen, lady. Maybe it’s best that we not continue down this line of questioning.” “I deserve to know,” Adria retorted. “If I’m to be helping you with your manhunt, then I should at least be aware of your reasons why.” “Is that so?” “Begging your pardon, sir, but let’s not forget who approached who. You came to me asking for help, and if you’re not privy to revealing your information, then I could just as easily walk away.” Kirk looked at her from over his shoulder. “Walk then. I may have been the one who approached you but don’t paint me as the only one who benefits from this arrangement. You seek the Lord Soul, do you not? Or are you so certain that you can kill Solaire—let alone find him—all by yourself? I haven’t forgotten the state I found you in, lady. If you are so keen on receiving another blade through the heart, then go ahead and walk.” Adria frowned. “Spare me the theatrics, Kirk. We cursed ones all have disturbing pasts and unpleasant stories—you are not unique here. Besides, we’re just talking, aren’t we? And as far as I'm aware, talking never hurt anybody.” She shrugged, waiting, before offering up her palms in resignation. “Be tight-lipped all you want, sir. If I do walk away, the only one at fault here would be you.” Silence greeted her. Without so much as a word, Kirk started forward once more, his footsteps echoing through the dark tunnel. Naturally, Adria followed. “Solaire abandoned you down here, didn’t he, Kirk? He left you to die, to rot—to be eaten—so that he could stay in the sunlight just a little longer.” “That’s not what happened,” Kirk growled back. “Then enlighten me! My curiosity isn’t a thing that can be wished away simply because you demanded it so.” The slight stutter in Kirk’s step was the only indication that he had heard her. A long moment passed before Kirk replied. “We were attacked,” he began. “One second we were alone, making our way down a tunnel very similar to this one, and the next we found ourselves surrounded. The cannibals, they struck with such speed and ferocity. It’s all a blur. A blur, and darkness.” “Did you not carry lights?” “What should I have done, lady? Sprouted a third arm so that I might continue holding my torch? They were upon us within a span of a blink—my immediate thoughts were not dedicated to a piece of burning timber.” Kirk let out an exasperated sigh. “Not that it would have made a difference. Amidst all the confusion, one of their poison darts managed to slip through my armor.” Adria bit her lip. “The paralytics…” “Indeed. I could no longer stand, let alone grip a sword. We both knew then that I would not escape. Solaire and I exchanged words and the next thing I know, he’s fleeing for his life and I’m left with the cannibals. Over a dozen of them and I can hardly move.” Adria mulled over the scenario in her mind. “Considering we’re having this talk, you obviously escaped a terrible fate.” “I wouldn’t be so sure, lady. You cannot escape karma or fate or whatever you want to call it—all you can do is trade one for another.” Kirk let out a short, humorless laugh. “You must be wondering how I got away.” “Among other things,” she whispered. Without a word, Kirk jabbed his thumb toward the central canal, toward the sickly river of sludge and grime that smelled of decay and death. As Adria’s gaze slowly returned to that solitary figure in front of her, to the rusted plates of armor covered in black barbs, she came to a sudden realization. “Kirk, you…” “Weighed down and paralyzed, you can imagine how quickly I sank.” Adria gave her head a small shake. “Then what of Solaire? Why are you hunting someone from so far in your past?” The seconds bled together, their footsteps the only sound to be heard. Kirk started once more in a low tone. “Know this, lady. I don’t fault him for running away. It was the right choice. The only choice. One of us escaping was better than both of us becoming food for those monsters.” “Then why the animosity? I still don’t understand.” Kirk twisted around to face her. “Because he never looked. Do you know how long I remained at the bottom of that channel? Do you know how many times I died, drowning on the filth of this dead city over and over and over again, holding onto some blind hope that he would come and dredge me out of the mud?” Kirk suddenly fell silent. “Have you ever experienced misery, lady?” “I…” “Don’t know? Then let me tell you a story. For you see, it was not Solaire who pulled me out of the dirt and grime, but instead a woman—a complete stranger to me, someone who had no reason for doing what she did. And as she wiped my armor clean, as she attempted to file down the thorns that had sprouted, as she sucked the very poison out of my body... that is when I discovered what misery truly is.” Kirk breathed in deep. “Misery, Adria, is the absence of hope, and despite how many people you’ve saved, want to save, wished you could have saved… there is no one those people can rely on but themselves. Down here in this life beyond death, we are all equals… all made to suffer.” Adria’s gaze roamed across the knight’s harsh silhouette. “This woman who saved you...” Kirk’s reply was a whisper in the dark. “She’s gone.” Adria swallowed away the lump in her throat. “I… I’m sorry." “Don’t be. She wasn’t fit for this world, and to be perfectly candid… this world did not deserve her either. No soul as kind as she should have to live in a place like this. After everything that she’d endured, I—” Kirk shook his head. "It’s best that she’s moved on.” “I...” “Let’s go.” Kirk started forward, his plated boots loud against the stone flooring. As he drifted further and further away, Adria had no choice but to follow. She crossed her arms and hugged them close to her chest. “Kirk, if you don’t mind me asking… what did you do after she rescued you?” “I remained by her side of course. Call it my duty as a knight, my pride as a man. Perhaps you could even call it guilt, but I could not abandon the woman who had so selflessly saved my life." “Guilt?” “The poison and filth she pulled from my body had to go somewhere. It’s simply the price she paid for helping others. I should have been left to rot." “Kirk, thats—” “A cruel thing to say? Don't make me laugh. Everywhere you look, everywhere you turn, someone is crying out in pain and anguish. You’ve encountered them before I’m sure—hapless individuals on the edge of insanity, grasping at what little remains of themselves from a time long past. What would you do, I wonder, if we were to encounter one at this exact moment?” “I’d help them,” Adria said after a brief pause. “And why is that?” “Because I can relate.” If Adria were paying any less attention, she would have missed the momentary clenching of Kirk’s vacant hand. He spoke slowly. Softly. “It was Solaire that pulled you back from the brink, wasn’t it? He stopped you from going hollow.” Adria bit her lip. “Your silence speaks mountains, lady, but let me tell you something. For every saint there is a killer, and for every killer there are thirty more apathetic souls who couldn't care less whether you lived or died.” “And which are you?” “I think you know,” said Kirk. “In a world of monsters and saints, it is the selfless who are the first to hollow. Like water poured onto parched earth, they fade away in the baking heat until all that’s left are the cracks and dust that they tried to wash clean. The fools dedicated themselves for the sake of others. That was their purpose—their bid for immortality. But look around you. What do you see?” “I don’t…” “Things are worse than ever and your saints are nowhere to be seen. They lost their minds trying to do the right thing. They're gone because they were good people.” Adria frowned in the dark. “Then what of Solaire?” she whispered. “Then what of you?” Kirk stopped in place, his voice just loud enough to be heard. “Listen, lady. I have done things that you will never be able to comprehend.” “And so has Solaire,” Adria said in a calm tone. “He saved me when he had no reason to. He trained me. He protected me. He gave me a reason to fight so that I may live. Solaire has done all that and more and yet he still walks this earth as a man and not a monster.” Adria studied the barbed figure, her gaze tracing across the back of the knight’s helmet. With slow steps, Kirk turned to face her. “Do not compare me to him,” Kirk began. “And why not? Because you’ve killed? Murdered?” Adria shook her head. “We’re all killers, Kirk. That’s simply the way of the world now. We breathe because it’s a necessity. We eat because it’s a necessity, and we kill because it’s a necessity. You may think yourself a monster, but I think differently.” For a long moment, Kirk just stood there, the torch in his grip casting long flickering shadows onto the walls. A bead of sweat trailed into Adria’s brow. "Kirk... you're not a true darkwraith, are you? If you were, you would have killed me without hesitation. You would never have let me wake up.” When Kirk said nothing, Adria took a cautious step forward. "The woman who saved you... she was your everything, wasn't she? Just as the darkwraiths do, you killed others for their souls because that's what she needed, yes? She needed souls just like the rest of us and you had no other choice but to help her.” Kirk remained unmoving. Whatever expression he wore on his face, Adria had no way of knowing—his helmet was a solid mask of steel and spikes that gave nothing away. After a long moment, Kirk spoke. “All that I’ve done…” he began, “all the killings, all the murders, they could at least be justified if she had lived. If I was able to save her. But she’s gone. She’s gone and there is nothing left. I have nothing left to give." His shoulders slowly sank. "Tell me... what is a knight without his morals?"   Despite herself, Adria found words forming on her lips. “We’re all just humans, Kirk… humans thrust into a monstrous situation. It's inevitable that this place will change you, but... in the end, it’s you who chooses what to make of that change. We have to believe that.” Slowly, as if in a daze, Kirk turned away. If what she said had any effect on the barbed figure, he made no show of it. They continued on, neither of the two saying a word as the minutes whiled away. More alert than ever, Adria found herself observing the knight’s gear, or rather the complete lack of it. Kirk carried no satchels or bags or anything that might have contained provisions. All he had on his person was the blackened sword strapped to his waist—a barbed hunk of steel that would sooner rip into flesh than slice it clean through—and the shield strapped to his back. A spiked disk that could, as Adria peered closer quickly realized, inflict just as much damage as any other spear, sword or makeshift club that had ever been swung in her direction. Adria slowed her pace. Knight of Thorns indeed. Without any explanation, Kirk moved closed to the wall and ran his fingers across the sludge-covered bricks. He slowly lowered himself to the floor and, with a groan, reclined against the wall. Adria’s gaze followed him all the way down. Before she could speak, however, Kirk waved a hand in her direction. “We need to wait here. At least for a moment." Frowning, Adria squinted against the dark expanse of tunnel before them. “Is something wrong?” “That’s for me to worry about,” said Kirk. “But don’t fret—sound carries well down here. If something were to be wandering these halls, we would hear it long before it got close. Please, have a seat." Adria gave a slow nod and with an air of hesitation sat down an arm’s length away from the knight. She held back any response, instead giving Kirk a sidelong glance. The torch in his hands flickered a listless dance, long since burned out the last dregs of fuel that had once soaked its end. “Your torch is dying,” she whispered. Kirk straightened up slightly. “Ah… so it is.” Without warning, Kirk drew his arm back and tossed the ember into the canal, it’s light starting to sputter and fade as it made contact with the putrid water. The torch floated on the surface for a moment longer before it finally sank, its orange glow winking out of existence like a dying star in the night sky. Adria slowed her breaths. “You speak so easily of change,” began the knight. “Changing yourself, changing the world… you draw your strength from those beliefs and I envy you for that.” Kirk paused, letting the darkness fill the silence he left behind. “But listen to me, lady. It was not to intimidate you when I said I’ve done things that you will never comprehend. In my desperation to save the life of my saviour, I… sought out those with power. Those with strength. Those who could steal the souls out of every man, woman and child in this place.” “The darkwraiths,” Adria murmured. Kirk hummed his assent. “I found them deep within the ruins of a sunken city, submerged just as I was, waiting for someone to set them free. I had known then that I was unleashing even more of the ancient killers upon the world, but… what I could not know was the absolute terror that lurked further down. “Adria… has Solaire never told you of the Abyss?” The only sound to be heard was the steady drips of condensation and the river of sewer water as it churned its way deeper into the earth. “The Abyss? He… he’s never made mention of it, Kirk. I…” “You speak so easily of change and yet there is so much that you do not know. It’s no fault of your own of course… these mysteries have taken me years to discover and ages to understand. Rather, I blame the man you traveled with. The one who calls himself Solaire.” Kirk breathed out a deep sigh. “He’s kept you in the dark. Shrouded the futility of this quest he’s set you on. Solaire may present himself as a simple warrior but he is not a fool. He knows more than he would have you believe. I am sure of that.” Adria swallowed away the lump in her throat. “What are saying...” “Abandon your quest,” said Kirk. “The fragility of this world is of a glass sculpture and it has already shattered against the ground. You cannot fix that which has already broken. You cannot set right the wrongs of the past. You cannot save this world. The Abyss will devour all in its path and there is nothing that any of us can do about it.” Kirk’s voice grew heavy. “Abandon your quest, Adria. For your own sake, let it go. You owe Solaire nothing. If you continue pursuing the impossible, you will hollow.” Adria could feel her hands forming tight fists. “I have devoted everything to this. I can’t just walk away. Not now.” “Desperation breeds necessity. You will find something else.” “Just as you have?” she whispered. “Tell me, Kirk, what will you do after we kill Solaire? Just the very thought of murdering him is enough to keep you sane but what then when he’s laying dead at your feet? Who will pull you back from the brink, hold you close as the walls of your mind crumble around you?” “There is always something else.” “Temporary solutions to permanent problems. You spend your life jumping from purpose to purpose, you’ll quickly realize you never had one in the first place.” Refocusing her thoughts, Adria pressed on. “Listen, Kirk, I may not be as old or as experienced as you, but that also means that I’m not as jaded. Not so prone to giving up.” She could hear Kirk’s slow breaths reverberating in the dark. “Do you remember your purpose, Knight of Thorns? Did you have one at all? You linger here in this godforsaken sewer, plotting your revenge against a man who doesn’t even remember your name. Is that what you’ve been reduced to?” “You…” “Solaire and I are different,” Adria continued. “If he had his way, Solaire would have this world preserved. Stuck in this... unnatural limbo. Tell me, how many more cursed souls must lose their minds in this place? How many more must suffer as we have?” She nodded slowly as if to reinforce her next words. “Kirk… I’m prepared to do what is necessary to break this curse. I’m prepared for the coming nightmares, the constant struggle—the blood on my hands—if it means that I can put an end to this once and for all.” Adria rose to her feet and in one swift motion, drew the staff strapped to the back of her belt. She focused inwardly, sending her magic down the staff’s length before coalescing into a faint golden glow at its tip. She looked toward Kirk, her voice a mountain in the dim light. “I’m not asking you to believe that the Abyss can be stopped. I’m not asking you to believe that this world can be saved…” She offered him her hand. “...I’m asking you to believe in me.” The seconds passed. The silence lengthened But there, in that sewage pipe deep beneath Lordran, the forgotten knight felt something stir deep within his chest. he clasped hands with the sorceress and with their combined strength, pulled himself to his feet. Words spoken for her and her alone were uttered. And the sorceress smiled. “I’m glad you see it my way,” she whispered. Grossly Incandescent Chapter 5 - Not of This World The barracks courtyard seemed almost deserted with all the guards taking their break. Most of them were lined up against the far wall, nestled in the shade like tiny desert lizards attempting to escape the oppressive heat. Even under the large oak as he was, Solaire could still feel the air warming up as the morning sun rose higher and higher into the sky. “So you’re from… Karkaryon? Did I pronounce that right?” The guard looked up and down Solaire’s tall form. “Er... yes,” said Solaire. “It’s a small cluster of islands found some fifty miles off the Minocretian coast.” “Minocrete, huh? You know, I’ve seen a few minotaurs in my time. Big fellows—two legs, two arms—they look a lot like you actually.” The guard offered up a shrug. “Can’t really say I’ve heard of this Karkaryon place though.” “I’d be surprised if you had, er…” “Halcyon,” said the guard with a smile. “The name’s Halcyon.” Solaire gave a slow nod. This Halcyon pony had approached him not two minutes before, bearing kind eyes and an easy gait that seemed to conflict with the armor fastened to his body and the helmet strapped to his head. As with all the other guards, his coat was a pure white and his limbs, corded with muscle, were attached to a thick barrel of a chest. Though Halcyon bore an intimidating physique, his voice was underlayed with a folksy charm that could only be described as warm. “So I’m guessing that you’re our special guest,” Halcyon began. “Captain Rook made mention that we had an important visitor on premises but he didn’t exactly elaborate. Kept it all hush-hush. ‘Above our pay-grade’ I think he said.” “Well, my arrival was unexpected to say the least. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. You ponies have been nothing if not a font of hospitality.” Halcyon offered up a fleeting smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, sir, but what brings you to Canterlot? Not that it’s any of my business what your business is, but it must be important if they’ve got you holed up in the castle.” Solaire shook his head. “Nothing so dramatic I’m afraid. I’m a, ah… a diplomat of sorts. The first mediator between our two lands.” “Huh.” Halcyon looked him up and down once more. “A diplomat.” “Y...yes.” “From Karkaryon.” Solaire caught the stallion glancing at his exposed forearm where a thick white scar ran diagonally down to his wrist. Halcyon raised a brow. “Did you get that signing documents?” Solaire chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, you know how these political disagreements can get. Say one wrong thing and the whole room eats you alive.” Halcyon’s face split into a relaxed grin. “Sounds like you and our resident prince should exchange notes.” That earned another laugh from Solaire but the mirth was short-lived. Halcyon cleared his throat and launched into his next barrage of questions. "So, er... Solaire, right? So tell me, Mister Solaire... what’s a guy like you doing out here in a place like this? I mean, most diplomats I’ve seen are content with staying in the castle, but you? You’ve been out here almost all morning and with three of the Element Bearers no less.” Solaire looked over the stallion’s shoulder to where Twilight Sparkle, Applejack and Rainbow Dash were sitting in the shade on the opposite end of the courtyard. They were talking amongst themselves but even from such a distance, he could tell that the three were keeping a close eye on him. He looked back toward Halcyon. “You know of them?” Solaire voiced. “What, you mean the Bearers?” Halcyon let out a low whistle. “Oh yeah. For lack of a better phrase, they’re kind of a big deal around here. You wouldn’t be able to tell just by looking, but all six of them are national heroes for the, uh… what is it, the fourth time now? Just name it—shapeshifting bug-monsters, the physical manifestation of chaos… heck, even Princess Luna’s millennial return—they were involved in all of that.” Solaire raised a brow. “And these were all big events?” “World-shattering,” said Halcyon. A frown formed on Solaire’s lips. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could just make out the blurred shapes of those three ponies, their heads close together as they whispered words not intended for his ears. “I hadn’t realized they were so… capable.” “Capable, yes. Powerful? Undoubtedly so. But even then, Mister Solaire, they’re still civilians.” “Oh?” The unicorn raised a hoof. “Don’t get me wrong—I think they’re great, I think they’re smart, and I sure as stars think that Equestria owes them a big debt of gratitude for all they’ve done, but…” Halcyon winced slightly, “... but us guards exist for a reason. Celestia forbid, if something were to happen you wouldn’t find those girls on the frontlines. I can assure you of that.” Solaire glanced in the stallion’s direction. “Ah, but that’s just simple tactics. Barring the fact that they’re not trained for the rigors of war, I don’t think your princesses would so readily expose their trump cards to any sort of danger.” “You know your stuff,” Halcyon said quietly. “So you can kinda see why me and the boys were a little curious as to how you managed to get three very important mares to accompany you around the grounds. Yeah, they’re in town for the gala tomorrow but to spend their morning following a diplomat? These are small-town girls, Solaire, and this is the capital—there are far more interesting things to see than some visiting politician... from halfway around the world or not.” A sigh escaped Halcyon’s lips. “Listen, I’m gonna be frank with you, Mister Solaire. I don’t care what you are. If Princess Celestia says you’re a diplomat, then you’re a diplomat. It’s not my place to question these things but that doesn’t mean I can’t make observations of my own either.” Halcyon leaned in slightly. “All I can say is that I’ve learned to be a little cautious when I see worried looks on the faces of those mares.” Solaire swallowed away the dryness in his throat. As Halcyon spoke, Solaire couldn’t help but notice the two dozen pairs of eyes that had been turning toward their conversation as if it were a brewing storm being detected by a flock of crows. Most of the guards were still chatting amongst themselves but now it was in hushed tones and their sidelong glances did little to disguise what it was that they were talking about. On the other side of the courtyard, Twilight Sparkle eyed him with a strange intensity. Solaire turned back toward the pony in front of him. “Who are you exactly, Halcyon?” The stallion shrugged. “I’m just the stallion who was expected to speak with you during break, Mister Solaire. The others gave me the whole spiel about seniority and how it was only proper that I be the one who approached you. But hey, do you know what I call it?” “Er—” Halcyon smiled. “I call it throwing their officer under the wagon.” Before Solaire could get another word in, Halcyon’s horn sparked to life. A light green aura travelled from root to tip, and in one swift motion, Halcyon turned to face the distant guards. When he spoke, his voice came not from his mouth but from a point high above the courtyard, magnified multiple times. “This is your lieutenant speaking. Unfortunately for us all, break is now over. However due to some…” Halcyon looked to the clear blue sky, “...inclement weather, the rest of today’s training session has been cancelled.” Solaire raised a brow. “But before you all return to your duties, I’d like to have a word. Fall in, gentlecolts. I’ll be with you shortly.” At once, the two dozen guards snapped their helmets back onto their heads and started forming neat rows in the center of the dirt field. Halcyon, for his part, simply sauntered off to his left, making a lazy line for the cobblestone shack on the other side of the massive oak. Frowning, Solaire jogged up to the stallion’s side. “Not one for procedure?” he said to the lieutenant. “Not really,” came the reply. “Procedure, protocol… I’ll leave those for the ponies like Captain Rook and Shining Armor.” “Er...” “It’s a simple matter of those two being able to do things that I could never do. There’s no way you’d know this, but Captain Rook? Captain Shining Armor? I consider them both prodigies.” Halcyon gave a sage nod. “Trust me, I’ve seen their desks. It should be illegal for paperwork to be stacked that high.” The pair continued on toward the shack, the next few seconds passing in silence. Horn alight, Halcyon pulled open the wooden door and stopped by the entrance. He tilted his head toward the displaced knight. “If you don’t mind me saying, Mister Solaire, I think you and me are a lot alike.” Solaire cleared his throat. “And why is that, Lieutenant?” “Well for one thing, you’d rather be out here with us grunts than behind some desk in the castle. I said it before—I don’t care what you are, but seeing you out here in the sun like this makes you alright in my book.” Without another word, the stallion slipped into the dim shack and emerged a few moments later with a training spear in his telekinetic grip. He held out the spear handle-side first and nodded toward Solaire. “What is this?” Solaire asked, glancing between the weapon and Halcyon’s face. “You cancelled today’s session.” “As if I’d deprive a diplomat of his fun.” Halcyon nudged the spear a little closer. “Go on, take it. You were starting to look a little bored.” Solaire reached out but hesitation slowed his hand. The stallion gave him a mischievous grin. “What d’ya say, Mister Solaire? How would you like to spar with the boys?” **** “Twi?” “I see it, Applejack.” “Twi. That guard’s givin’ him a spear.” “I see it!” Rainbow Dash scratched the back of her head. “So, uh… are they seriously gonna let him fight?” “What else do you do with spears, sugarcube? Poke holes in the ground? Yeah they’re gonna let him fight! Look, that Halcyon fella’s takin’ Solaire to the other guards now.” Twilight chewed at the inside of her lip. “Oh, this is not good. This is so not good.” “I really don’t see what the problem is,” Rainbow said with a shrug. “He’s a big guy. The guards are big guys. It’s like the stallions who play hoofball in the park back home. Maybe this’ll be good for him in a sort of competitive, male-bonding kind of way.” “Yeah, no. You’re right, Rainbow Dash. We’ll just let the zombie alien go on a testosterone-fueled rampage after somepony sticks him with a spear a little too hard.” Twilight let out a weak groan when she saw Rainbow’s growing frown. “I’m sorry. I know that came out a little harsh but wasn’t Solaire telling you and Pinkie about the things he’s done? I mean, for Celestia’s sake, he told us that he’s fought with full-grown dragons before just like… in passing mention. That’s not something you say just in passing mention!” Applejack rose to her hooves. “Twi, we’ve gotta do somethin’.” “I wish we could, but Princess Celestia said not to interfere with her Guard’s training.” The earth pony fixed the unicorn with a stare. “And Lieutenant Halcyon said that training’s over.” A bird chirruped in the distance. A butterfly flitted about on the edge of Twilight’s vision. And without so much as a word, Twilight stood up as well. “Let’s go,” she finally said. **** Solaire shifted on his feet. The guards had formed a loose semi-circle around him and though they all carried an air of professionalism, Solaire could still feel their curious eyes roaming over every inch of his body. He took a deep breath, focusing instead on the blunted spear in his grip. Halcyon’s gaze swept across his charges. “Alright. Now that introductions are out of the way, who wants to go a few rounds with our Karkaryan guest? Regulation rules, of course.” The guards looked to each other, a quiet murmur surging through their ranks. All eyes eventually fell on a white stallion who, after receiving nods from all his companions, finally stepped forward. His horn took on a blue glow and with an audible pop materialized an identical training spear out of thin air. Solaire caught the lieutenant with a downward tilt of his eyes. “Regulation rules?” he voiced. Halcyon nodded. “First to land a clean hit to the chest or head wins a point. Best of three takes the match, and oh... keep in mind that thrusts to the face are illegal. There are precautions in place, both in the weapons and our gear, but still—we try our best to avoid gouging out each other’s eyes.” Solaire furrowed his brow. Opposite of he, his opponent wore a stone mask of a face. The stallion’s armor glimmered in the sunlight, each plate putting out a bright glow. Several paces behind him stood the rest of his compatriots, all two-dozen of them forming a golden wall of metal and burnished steel. Solaire resisted the urge to pad at his unprotected chest. His chainmail and helmet which had been shed before breakfast were instead adorning a high-back chair in the parlor of Princess Celestia’s tower. Without so much as a downward glance, he knew that his tunic would do little to absorb a blow. As if detecting his concern, Halcyon gave the challenger a look. “Corporal Freeflow, maybe it’s best that you—” Solaire raised a hand. “No. No holding back.” The guard glanced to his commanding officer, who only gave a slow nod. As if that were all he needed, Corporal Freeflow turned his gaze back toward Solaire and widened his stance, horn aglow as he pounded his spear twice in the dirt before leveling it at Solaire’s chest. Though he was in a different place, a different land, a different world altogether, the familiar rush of battle remained the same. The fiery look in his opponent’s eyes, the shifting weight of a weapon in his hands, these were all tangible things. Things that could be touched. Felt. Disposed of. Conquered. As Solaire readied his spear, the faint tattoo of approaching hooves grew louder and louder. He took a deep breath and straightened up, his gaze following those of the spectating soldiers. A quiet murmur pulsed through the crowd as the golden wall parted just enough to allow three mares through. From the gap emerged Twilight Sparkle, Applejack and Rainbow Dash, determination etched into their features. Armed with a reassuring smile, Halcyon stepped forward. “Morning, ladies. Decided to watch?” “Not exactly,” Twilight said. “I just need a word with Solaire. May I speak with him?” Halcyon glanced in Solaire’s direction. “Er... by all means, Miss Twilight.” Solaire raised a brow as the unicorn made her approach, leaving only a stiff silence in her wake. She passed Corporal Freeflow whose eyes followed her from beneath the brim of his helmet. She passed Lieutenant Halcyon who smiled as she trotted by before finally coming to a stop at the base of Solaire’s legs. She stared up at him with narrowed eyes, neither of the two saying a word. A second passed. Five seconds. Solaire cleared his throat. “Ah—” A purple hoof shot out like a whip. “Down here,” Twilight said in a quiet tone. “No one else can hear this.” Solaire looked once more toward waiting crowd before slowly dropping into a squat next to the unicorn. When she beckoned him closer with a small frown, Solaire leaned forward slightly and turned his head to the side. When two more seconds passed, Solaire glanced her way only to see Twilight giving him a bewildered look. “Wh… what is that?” she whispered. “What’s what?” “That! Why am I talking to the side of your head? I feel like you aren’t listening or something.” After a long moment, Solaire smiled. “I can’t swivel my ears, Miss Sparkle. I can maybe… “he waggled his eyebrows up and down, “... move them a little- ah! See, there? But that’s all I can do.” Twilight’s frown remained. “Solaire, please. This is serious.” “Of course.” Twilight groaned into her hoof. “Listen, I don’t mind that you’re willing to do this whole… sparring thing with the guards. In fact, I think it’s kind of neat that everyone’s getting along so well in the first place, but…” She breathed out a weary sigh. “They think you’re a diplomat, Solaire. They don’t know what you really are. Stars, I don’t even know and I’ve been in every meeting—secret or otherwise—since you’ve arrived.” “Miss Sparkle?” “Listen, just... be careful, okay?” Solaire glanced over her shoulder to where his opponent remained as stoic as ever. “I think I can handle anything the corporal can throw at me,” assured Solaire. Twilight looked up, her large eyes roaming over every feature of his face. At once, her lips cracked into a small frown. “It’s not just you that I’m worried about.” As she turned to leave, Solaire gave her a gentle poke on the shoulder. “You look tired, Miss Sparkle.” “Yeah, well. I’ve been awake for a little over twenty four hours now, so there’s that.” Solaire nodded slowly. “Then let me put your mind at ease. I’ve already promised myself that I would not hurt any of these ponies and now I am sharing that promise with you. You have my word on this.” Twilight turned her gaze on him once more, the creases of her brow disappearing the longer she looked. She took one step back, and then two, but in place of her frown there was instead a muted smile. “Alright,” she finally said. “Just know that I’m holding you to that. Good luck, okay?” Before Solaire could get a word in, she turned away and started the long trek back to her friends. Only when she took her spot back with the spectators did Solaire rise again to his full height. Ten paces in front of him, Corporal Freeflow readied his spear once more. The weapon hovered just above the stallion’s head, trembling with energy liked an arrow on a pulled string. Out of the corner of his eyes, Solaire could see Halcyon making his approach. The lieutenant stopped just shy of centerfield and, looking between each of the competitors, began. “Remember... this is a best-of-three bout. First to two points, wins. Only strikes to the head and chest count. Are there any questions?” Only silence greeted him. “Alright then,” Halcyon finished. The lieutenant’s horn sparked to life, and as if conjured from nothing appeared a luminous, red orb that floated high in the air between the two competitors. Solaire could feel that familiar rush returning in his veins. He could feel the crowd’s anticipation in their withheld breaths and he could feel his opponent’s desire to win in the very air itself. He widened his stance and readied his spear, though he had no intention of using it. Not yet. Brace. The red orb pulsed once. Twice. Somewhere a voice called out, “Green means go!” It must have been Twilight’s. Solaire tightened his grip on the spear. “With all you have,” he breathed out. “With all you have, Corporal.” Brace. And as soon the orb finished its third pulse, a deep green light shone down from the sky. Brace. **** Twilight had known for a long time the speeds that a guard’s spear could reach. Many hours were spent in this very courtyard, a book under her nose as the soldiers went about their drills. More often than not, the sharp whistling of spears slicing through the air was the designated soundtrack for her morning readings. Without a doubt, the guards of her earlier years were skilled so it didn’t come as much of a shock when several years later, as Twilight saw the match between human and stallion begin and end within the span of a blink, she realized that same truth still held true. The lieutenant raised a hoof. “One point: Freeflow.” A simple thrust was all it took. One thrust to the chest and judging by Solaire’s lack of a reaction, it was hard to tell whether he saw the attack at all. Twilight turned her gaze to the fallen knight. Solaire lay on his back, a hand resting on the spot where he has just been struck. As blunted as they were, the training spears would sooner smash a tomato than skewer it. But even then, without any sort of armor or protection it would be no surprise if Solaire suffered a cracked rib from that blow. “Gosh,” Rainbow Dash whispered. “Is he gonna be alright?” Twilight glanced toward her friends. On the other side of the pegasus, she could see Applejack slowly bringing a hoof to her mouth. She looked ill. Twilight tried to form a response but all that came out was a disjointed murmur. As she cleared her throat and began to speak, something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Solaire was rising to his feet with the urgency of someone waking from an extremely restful nap. As he dusted off his knees and the back of his legs, he bent down to retrieve his spear before rising into a full-body stretch that reached from his boots all the way up to his outstretched arms. “Well!” he exclaimed. “Perhaps I had an idea of what to expect but I’d be lying if I said that didn’t catch me off-guard!” Halcyon let out a short chuckle. “Don’t feel too bad, Mister Solaire. Corporal Freeflow is one of the fastest spears in Canterlot. If I’m not mistaken, you can thank his mark for that incredible speed.” He glanced toward the silent stallion. “What’s your talent again, Freebie?” “Rapid acceleration, sir.” “Rapid acceleration… right, of course. We’re all special under Celestia’s sun, but boy… if that’s not something to be proud of, I don’t know what is.” As Halcyon prepared the next round, Twlight’s ears flicked toward the crunching of grass directly to her left. “What the hay is rapid acceleration?” she heard Applejack whisper. Rainbow Dash spoke first. “It means he can go fast in like, hardly any time at all. That’s what it means for pegasi anyway so I guess it goes for his magic, right, Twi?” Twilight nodded, her brow furrowing. “Precisely.” “So,” Applejack continued, “what does that mean?” Twilight caught Applejack’s eye. “Well, look... considering that regulation rules state that the two contestants must be eight meters apart before the start of the match, Solaire is already at a disadvantage against a unicorn opponent. He has no ranged capabilities and nothing to defend himself with. And for a trained soldier, scoring points on such a vulnerable target should be foal’s play. Factor in the corporal’s talent, and well… I’m having a hard time picturing Solaire the winner of this match.” Rainbow Dash and Applejack shared a look. Before Twilight could continue, Lieutenant Halcyon conjured another red sphere between the two contestants. By some unspoken agreement, both Solaire and Corporal Freeflow readied their spears once more, the two contestants nodding their assent for the second bout’s countdown to begin. Almost immediately, Twilight could sense a different air surrounding the human. Gone was his smile and unlike the previous match where his boots were like anchors in the dirt, Solaire’s stance now resembled that of a pegasus before takeoff. Coiled. Springloaded. Ready to leave the earth at a moment’s notice. Twilight’s eyes widened. “No way,” she whispered. “The first bout, he...” Rainbow Dash looked her way. “What’s that, Twi?” He wanted to get hit. And then the orb turned green. As if shot from a cannon, Freeflow’s spear closed the eight meter distance in the span of a second. It ripped through the air, howling as it went, the projectile of wood and blunted steel dead set on knocking its target into the dirt once again. Freeflow’s aim was perfect. It always was. But somehow, on a sunny morning in that Canterlot courtyard, the spear that always hit its mark had missed. Twilight managed to blink twice before her brain could even register what had happened. The sight before her—before them all—was one of confusion and disbelief. By all accounts, the attack Freeflow had launched should have been unavoidable. After all, one does not simply dodge lightning. But here was Solaire with a spear in each hand, one belonging to himself, the other his opponent, proving to all in the courtyard that lightning was indeed catchable. Proving to all that he was an enigma. A mystery. Not of this world. Twilight could only look on as Solaire rose out of his half-crouched stance. Almost by instinct, her gaze started taking in all the details as if what she were seeing was a sandcastle on the beach about to be washed away. Solaire’s feet had shifted. That much was for certain judging by the large mound of displaced dirt that currently sat atop his boot. He had moved out of the way, swivelling his entire body to avoid the spear that was on a crash course with his chest. But instead of letting it sail by, he caught the tail-end of the projectile with his right hand, reaching across his torso in a manner impossible for ponies replicate. Solaire’s voice seemed unnaturally loud in the silence that followed. “That was quick,” he uttered. “Faster than before even. But using the same attack against me was a mistake.” Freeflow, for his part, was just as stunned as the rest of his companions. On cue, a choked noised burbled up from his throat when Solaire began his slow approach. As if in deep thought, Solaire glanced down at the spears in his posession before looking Halcyon’s way. “A quick question, Lieutenant. Do I have to strike my opponent with my weapon to earn a point, or will either of these two suffice?” **** Corporal Freeflow had lost. After being up one point, he lost the next two bouts in decisive fashion. Twilight breathed in deep. Decisive fashion. That was the only way she could describe it. As for the other guards, it was as if an invisible switch had been pulled. They stood a little taller, a little stiffer, and the very air around them seemed ready to combust at the smallest spark. Yes, Twilight thought. This unknown stranger who they had before regarded with respect and curiosity was now something else. A challenger. A competitor. Someone who had waltzed into their territory with a smile and a spear and had bested one of their own as if it were child’s play. Yes, Twilight thought. They could see it now. Solaire was an intruder—someone they weren’t so keen on letting get away with a win so easily. Within a minute, the next match had started. The guard after Freeflow had chosen a more conservative strategy, opting to counter Solaire’s strikes rather than initiate contact himself. After losing the first bout to a quick jab in the chest, Solaire seemed to always have counter-defense prepared. Whether it be with his weapon, his arms or his legs, it didn’t matter—anything that wasn’t his head or torso was used as a shield to deflect his opponent’s blows. In the end, Solaire’s defense proved to be stronger. Or the more reckless, as Applejack had commented. The next guard, a stallion light on his hooves, had chosen to exploit the very obvious advantage that all unicorns had over the visitor. When their first bout started, the stallion immediately leapt back, furthering the distance between the two fighters by an even greater amount. After being pushed back way too far, Solaire lost the first bout to a torrent of sweeping, long-ranged blows. As he brushed away the layer of dirt from his tunic’s sleeves, Twilight had more than an inkling of an idea as to how Solaire would approach the next match. As the red orb began pulsing between them once more, Solaire bent down, the muscles in his legs ready to explode into a sprint. Dripping with sweat, the stallion later collapsed on the sidelines, two dents on the side of his helmet. Twilight breathed out a sigh. She and her friends could only look on as Solaire accrued yet another win. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted Applejack touching the brim of her hat with a hoof. “What do you make of that, sugarcube?” She pointed her nose toward the growing clusters of congregating guards. Both Rainbow Dash and Twilight followed the earth pony’s gaze. “Looks like they’re talking strategy,” said the pegasus. “Can’t say I blame ‘em either. They just saw three of their buddies get thrashed like it was nothing.” “Thrashed?” Applejack murmured. “That’s a little strong, don’t ya think? After all, those three did manage to win a point against him.” Twilight looked toward the center of the field where Solaire and Lieutenant Halcyon were having a quiet chat. The stallion said something before gesturing toward Solaire’s hand, but the human just shrugged, presenting the palm in question as he bent and flexed each finger in turn. His knuckles were purple and swollen. “Those wins don’t matter,” Twilight began. “How do you reckon?” “I didn’t want to say anything until I was absolutely certain, but… Solaire’s strategy? I know what it is." Twilight took a deep breath. “He sacrifices his body to learn more about who he’s facing.” Rainbow Dash blinked. “Can you run that by us again?” “He deliberately lost those first rounds just to know who he’s dealing with. Their speed, power, how they tend to fight—he gauged all that by, well… not caring if he got hit.” Twilight shook her head. “Well, let me rephrase. I guess he cares on some level. It’s not like he’s going out of his way to get hurt, but still. It’s as if he’s diminishing or outright blocking his sense of self-preservation. He might not have one at all.” Applejack nodded slowly. “So what you’re saying, Twi, is that he doesn’t care because it doesn’t affect him.” Rainbow’s eyes widened. “Because of his…” “Right,” Twilight said, “because of his curse. I guess when you’re essentially immortal, you can stop worrying about what happens to your body. After all, what we know as the concept of death, it simply does not apply to him. His actions, as strange or insane or reckless as they might seem, they’re all things he can get away with.” “Because he can’t die. Not really.” Applejack stared straight ahead, her eyes focused on something neither of them could see. Twilight’s ears perked up. In her friend’s tone was something that urged her to remain silent, a strange melancholy that had burrowed deep within and had only now just surfaced. The earth pony drew in a slow breath. “I guess it hasn’t sunk in yet, that I saw someone die not even twelve hours ago. It’s a little strange, innit? I watched as this poor fella bled out in front of me and I couldn’t say a darn thing. No words of comfort… assurance. Nothin’.” A faint laugh floated toward their ears. It could only have belonged to Solaire. “I ain’t even had time to sort through my thoughts when I hear that this fella wasn’t dead anymore. Woke up as if from a nap, crackin’ jokes as if it were the most natural thing to do after up and rising from the grave. And then we hear Solaire’s story, and well…” Twilight searched across her friend’s face, looking for any sign of emotion. Applejack simply frowned. “I’m not one to be spooked easily, girls, but Twi? What you told us in that conference room downright chilled me to the bone. I mean, have you looked—and I mean looked real good—at what Solaire’s bein’ here means?” Twilight pursed her lips. “That there are other worlds out there.” “And the world Solaire comes from; the one still linked to ours? All we know is that it’s a horrible place filled to the brim with crazed monsters who can’t be killed. Can’t be stopped. Monsters who done lost their minds and can’t stop searchin’ for the one thing they don’t got no more.” Applejack looked away. “Solaire said it himself. They lost their souls and you just proved that everyone’s got one, Twi. Me. You. The Princesses. Everypony. And if Solaire could come here… I ain’t got to spell out what could happen next.” Rainbow Dash took a cautious step forward. “Whoa, hey. You’re not saying that—” “I’m not sayin’ that that’s gonna happen for sure, sugarcube. But what I am sayin’ is that if I were to sit myself down right now and look at the facts, everything he’s told us is gonna start makin’ sense. It might all sink in, and that...” her voice grew quiet, “...that scares the hay out of me.” High above, the sun continued its slow ascent across the sky. Twilight shut her eyes and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with warm summer air. She could hear the quiet murmurs of the guards but the words were indiscernible as if they were spoken through a filter attached to the end of a long pipe. It had been twenty four hours. Twenty four hours since she last slept. “I’m scared too,” Twilight began. “Believe me on that, Applejack. Even now, I don’t think I could rest easy knowing all that we know. And until all this has been resolved, I… I don’t know what to think anymore. We just have to believe that the princesses are doing all that they can. Doing what’s best for us.” In the center of the courtyard, Solaire continued his chat with the lieutenant. Words were uttered and the pair broke into a fresh bout of chuckles and amused grins. As the laughter died down, Solaire glanced in their direction, his eyes lingering for a moment longer before he raised a hand and waved. Twilight swallowed away the lump in her throat. “In two days he’ll be gone. He’ll go back home and all this will just become a bad memory.” A strange silence fell over the three mares as they watched the scene unfold before them. The guards had chosen Solaire’s next challenger—a steel-faced stallion who, with steady steps, entered the imaginary circle. "Hey, Twi,” came Rainbow Dash’s voice. "Yes?" "Do you think he gets to smile like that where he comes from?" “W… what?” Twilight looked toward the pegasus. “Forget it,” said Rainbow. “I just remembered that I promised Pinkie that I’d help her set up the party, so yeah... I’ve gotta jet.” Applejack quirked a brow. “You’re leavin’? But I thought you wanted to hang out with Solaire.” “Plenty of time for that later, cowpony. Besides, if I stick around any longer I might say something uncool. So I’ll just leave you two with this.” Rainbow locked eyes with the unicorn. “I hadn’t pegged you as the ‘giving up’ type, Twi. You say leave it to the princesses but you wanna know what I think?” She unfurled her wings. “It doesn’t suit you sitting on the side like this. Being scared isn’t a reason to start now.” Before any of the two could get a word in, Rainbow Dash shot into the air, leaving behind nothing but a gust of wind as her distant form disappeared behind the tall white walls of the castle. Heads craned over their shoulders, Twilight and Applejack stared at the same spot of wall that their friend had just flown over, but as they both lowered their gazes something caught their attention. Standing in the darkened doorway to the castle proper was a familiar grey stallion, a Royal Guard helmet tucked between the crook of his right foreleg. He stared out into the courtyard, his eyes making slow, painstaking sweeps as if he were a teacher supervising recess. “I’ve seen that stallion before,” Applejack whispered. “He was one of the ponies that took Solaire’s body away last night.” “I’m not surprised he was there,” Twilight whispered back. “That’s Captain Rook and apparently the princesses put a lot of trust in him. He was already in the room when, uh… when Princess Celestia and I arrived to perform the autopsy.” Applejack snorted. “Obviously that never happened.” “Yeah, right?” “But what’s he doin’ here?” Applejack asked. “You don’t think he’s gonna… fight Solaire, do ya? Fight him out of some sort code of honor? A pride thing? I mean, look. Ponies under his command are gettin’ whooped into next Thursday. If this keeps up…” Twilight shook her head. “He’s not going to fight Solaire. Captain Rook knows just as much about the situation as we do, and any sane pony who’s in the know is not going to want anything to do with our guest... let alone fight the guy.” “And yet here we are.” Twilight let out a puff of air. “Besides, word is that Princess Luna likes having the captain around. So much so that she’s assigned him as, well, a chaperone of sorts.” “A chaperone? Sounds like the princess is just yankin’ him around.” “Maybe,” Twilight said with a shrug. “But what can you do? It doesn’t matter how silly it is, no guardspony would shirk a royal order.” Applejack’s eyes slowly widened. “So what you’re sayin’ is, Twi, is that if the captain is here, then so is th—” She was never able to finish her sentence because in that exact moment, every single guard in the courtyard pivoted toward the doorway behind them and snapped crisp, simultaneous salutes. All of three seconds passed before the guards dropped their hooves and, as one, dipped their heads to the ground. Twilight had lived in the castle long enough to know the basics of military etiquette: salutes were for commanding officers. And bows were for the princesses. As Twilight turned around, she already knew who she would see. Standing next to Captain Rook was none other than Princess Luna, the dark blues of her coat blending in with the shadows of the castle interior. Without a word, Princess Luna stepped into the light of day. Twilight could only blink at the sight before her. In direct sunlight, it was as if a black veil had been lifted from the princess’ form and her true colors were allowed to shine through. Her coat’s blues were richer, her crown and torc gave off a brilliant, iridescent glow, and the very stars in her mane shimmered with a newfound intensity as if they were tiny flecks of diamond amidst a sea of obsidian-colored sand. For a long moment, Twilight tried to recall the last time she’d seen Princess Luna outside in the sun like this, but no memory came to the surface. Is this really the first time? Twilight thought. So caught up in her musings, she hadn’t noticed that the guards had formed a long, single line in the center of the field. They stood shoulder to shoulder, each offering a small bow when the princess calmly strolled by. When she passed the sixth guard however, Princess Luna came to a stop and regarded the stallion with a sideward glance. “How did your son do on his entrance exams?” she asked in a straight voice. The guard’s eyes widened for a split second. “V-very well, Your Majesty. Full marks across the board.” Luna gave a small nod. “I am glad to hear the good news. He had been fretting about it all last week and I was wondering why I have not had to visit him recently. I suppose it never occurred to me that the test’s date had come and gone.” She nodded again. “Very good.” The guard quirked a brow. “If I may, Your Highness, but ‘visiting’?” “His dreams, Sergeant, or to be more precise: his nightmares.” “Nightmares? I… I had no idea.” “Cast aside your doubts,” said Luna. “Do you recall telling your own father about every troubling dream and nightmare you might have had?” At this, the guard’s worried expression softened into relief. He offered the princess a nod and a small smile as she continued on her way. Three guards later, she came to an abrupt stop. “What was her response?” Luna voiced into open air. The stallion to her immediate left looked as if his heart had leapt into his throat. His eyes bulged and his mouth shifted about as if it were stuffed with marbles. But even then, he managed to croak out a meek, “she said ‘yes’.” “Oh?” Luna tilted her head in the stallion’s direction. “The chocolates were the right choice then.” The poor guard’s face had at some point flushed itself into angry shade of pink. “Y-y-y-your Majesty, I—” Luna held up a hoof, a smirk playing across her lips. “I think that’s all the confirmation I need, Private. For what it’s worth, I’m glad it went well.” Without looking back, the princess pressed on, gliding from one guard to the next with nary a glance towards those she was passing. Twilight turned away from the spectacle, instead focusing on the two figures at the end of the column. Lieutenant Halcyon stood in line just like the rest of his charges but there was a strange weightiness in his eyes as if he were expecting to hear a loud bang that had not yet come. Standing several paces away in the center of the field was Solaire, hovering about in a zone of uncertainty like a colt who had forgotten his lines during a play. For a split second, Twilight wanted to call out to him but the deafening silence in the courtyard had glued her throat shut. With a flick of her eyes, she turned back toward Princess Luna who was steadily making her way to the end of the line. Much to the relief of the guards, she hadn’t stopped again. As Twilight tried analyzing Princess Luna’s stony expression, she felt something nudge her in the ribs. “You reckon the lieutenant’s gonna get chewed out?” whispered Applejack in her ear. “He looks awful serious. Both of ‘em do.” “I don’t know,” Twilight whispered back, “but I don’t think Princess Luna came out here just to socialize.” “She’s done plenty of that already.” Twilight’s lips formed a thin line. “Then there’s more than one item on her agenda.” As expected, Princess Luna had words for Lieutenant Halcyon. She stopped just in front of him and regarded the stallion with a flick of her eyes. “Well?” she asked. “How is he doing?” Halcyon took a moment to respond. “Your Majesty?” “Solaire. The Karkaryan diplomat. You officiated his matches, yes? How has he performed so far?” A strange air surrounded the lieutenant as he met Princess Luna’s gaze. He blinked once and then twice before his mouth split into a small frown. “How is Solaire doing?” Halcyon repeated. “Well, Princess, he’s physically strong, he’s faster than he looks, and has the reflexes to match that of a griffon’s.  Not to mention that he knows his way around a weapon, doesn’t seem to acknowledge pain and has adapted to everything we’ve thrown at him… so yes, Princess. I’d say that Solaire is doing just fine.” “Those are general impressions, Lieutenant. I want to hear what you think." Halcyon remained silent for the better part of three seconds. “I’ve never seen anything like it before,” he said in a quiet tone. Luna gave a slow nod and for the first time looked Solaire’s way. “Did you hear that, Solaire? In the eyes of Canterlot’s finest, you’re quite skilled. A force to be reckoned with. A potential threat, but…” Luna smirked, “...they don’t know the half of it, do they?” The human remained unmoving, a sober expression on his face. All the while, Luna stalked forward on silent hooves, not making a single sound as she drew closer and closer. Twilight could only watch as Luna came to a stop just out of Solaire’s reach. “How fare thee?” Luna asked suddenly. “Have you sustained any injuries that would prevent you from fighting further?” Solaire shook his head. “Don’t worry about me, Princess. It’s nothing that won’t heal on its own.” “Very good,” was all Luna said. Her horn took light, filling the courtyard with the faint hum of magic. Before Twilight could guess the spell being cast, Princess Luna pulled a training spear from thin air and planted its base into the dirt with a resounding thump. All eyes turned toward the pair. “Then I will be your next opponent,” said the princess. Helm of Thorns “Helm of Kirk, knight of Thorns and notorious member of the Darkwraiths. A dense patch of thorns grows from its surface.”