//------------------------------//
// Rising Shadows 4 
// Story: The Lunar Rebellion 
// by Chengar Qordath 
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Sunbeam Sparkle proved true to her word, returning my blades and panoply more quickly than I would have expected. My prior experience told me that enchanters were often far slower in displaying their arts—I had not expected Sunbeam to finish her work ere the week was done. Perhaps ‘twas her intent to impress me by completing her work swiftly. If so, ‘twas a wasted effort. I had never doubted her skills with the magical arts. That was why, as soon as I could decently do so, I made my way to Copper’s home. I did not wear the armor or blades yet: a mare who would use passion to manipulate me would likely be just as quick to do so with magic. (1)

1: Shadow’s wrong on this point, since mind control is against the Laws of Magic, and by all accounts Sunbeam carefully followed the letter of the law (though not necessarily its spirit). Granted, mind control was just one of many nasty things Sunbeam could’ve done, and she wouldn’t hesitate to play with gray areas of the law. Ironically, Sunbeam spent most of her later years closing many of the very legal loopholes she used in her youth. Apparently, she didn’t want anypony copying her playbook.

When I knocked ‘pon Copper’s door, however, ‘twas not he who answered it. The mare in question looked somewhat younger than myself, though only by a few years. Given that this was likely Copper’s wife, I critically noted the slackness of her muscles and a few hints of fat along her sides and legs. Nothing excessive, but she had the build of a pony who did not exercise regularly or train in the warrior’s arts. Though her coat was a fetching enough shade of peach, her mane and tail showed the mild neglect of a mare who is not o’erly worried about her appearance, with the yellow streaks carelessly arranged among her light blue hair. Her dark grey eyes were a poor match to the rest of her coloring as well. Copper certainly could have found a more fitting mare.

Shortly after making that assessment, I realized the unpleasantness of it. I confess that I may have judged her wanting on account of mine own history with Copper. Likely I resented her for wedding a stallion whose company I would have enjoyed. E’en though I did not love him, Copper might have proven a great comfort as I faced the trials of settling in Canterlot and the burden of leadership. Such envy was unworthy of me, and I did my best to cast it aside. 

Though the mare did not possess the sort of beauty that inspired poets, she was certainly not foul to look upon, and there was an approachable, unassuming quality to her. In any case, physical appearances were only one factor—Sunbeam Sparkle might be finer to look upon, but the foulness in her heart more than offset that.

Copper’s wife scanned me, likely making her own assessment. Copper had no doubt spoken of me and our past relations at some point, if only in passing. “Shadow Kicker, I presume?” She looked me over once more, then made a faint noise in the back of her throat, likely having reached some conclusion of her own regarding me. “My husband is out, but I expect his return ere too much longer. If you wish, I could convey a message to him, or offer you the hospitality of our home until his return.” Though her words were polite enough, there was a hint of strain in her tone.

“I will accept your hospitality, then.” The mare stood aside, and I entered her home, carrying my wargear with me. “I would ask a favor of him regarding the objects in my possession. Though I pray I do not impose upon your hospitality for too long, I would not have my arms and armor unready for the battlefield, especially in a time of war.” As I entered the home’s waiting area, a thought struck me. “My name is known to you, but I confess that while Copper has told me yours, ‘twas some time ago and in the midst of a long and trying day. Might I have it once more?”

The mare frowned slightly, then offered her hoof. “Morning Star. ‘Tis a pleasure to meet you at last.” I shook her hoof, and resisted the urge to attempt to o’erwhelm her with my superior physical prowess. Once we had finished the exchange, her eyes turned to the armor and blades I bore. “Might I ask what precisely your business with my husband is? ‘Tis possible I might be able to see to the matter myself and save you a good deal of waiting. I presume it has something to do with the fact that you are carrying your armor rather than wearing it?”

“It does,” I confirmed.

A faint smile quirked at Morning’s lips. “Excellent, then. Copper consults me on such matters when they come before him. ‘Tis a division of labor, much like in a guild. He is the battlemage, while my talents are in scholarship, research, and enchantment.” Her smile faded, and her voice grew troubled. “‘Tis likely why he shall be off to war, whilst I remain in Canterlot, tending a library and an enchanting room.” She fell silent for a time, then shook her head, as if to dispel the troubling thoughts, and extended a hoof towards my blades. “If I may, Lady Ephor?”

I hesitated only a moment before allowing it, watching as she lifted my gear in a dark grey magical aura which matched the color of her eyes. Though there was some awkwardness ‘tween us on account of our relations past and present with Copper, I bore the mare no ill will. If anything, I wished her well, if only for Copper’s sake. Regardless, I certainly had no intention of threatening her marriage. What Copper and I had shared was naught but the idle pleasure of youth, and not e’en worth considering when compared to the commitment of a marriage.

The unicorn mare looked over one of my wing blades for a few moments, then grin quirked at her lips. “Sunbeam’s work, is it not?”

“It is,” I confirmed. “You recognize her craftsmareship?”

“Her affinity for fire does tend to express itself in her spellwork.” Morning turned the weapon about within her magical grasp, inspecting it from all angles. “Though the hidden enchantment that makes the weapon incapable of piercing Sunbeam’s flesh is also a rather strong indicator.” She waved a hoof towards my armor. “I would also wager that in addition to the strengthening and heat resistance enchantments, your armor is now completely permeable to Sunbeam’s magic.”

“Ah.” Though I was unsurprised to learn of Sunbeam’s duplicity, I was yet offended by it. I had offered the mare a chance to show a better nature, and all it had done was reveal the wickedness that dwelt within her heart.

Morning Star must have read my mood, for the mare let out a soft chuckle. “Do not take it as a personal insult, Lady Ephor. I do not recall ever seeing an item crafted by Sunbeam that did not include a contingency enhancement to prevent it being used against her. The mare is rather thorough in her paranoia.” Morning paused, tapping a hoof on her chin. “Though considering how readily she makes enemies, perhaps there is a measure of prudence to it. More than one magus has met an untimely end at the hooves of her own works.”

Given that I had more than once considered putting my blade to Sunbeam’s throat, and had nearly slain her on one occasion, I suppose I could not entirely fault the mare for taking measures ‘gainst me. However, acknowledging the tactical prudence of it did not make me care for the idea of hidden traps within my wargear any more than it did before. That is not to mention that the enchantments intended to defend her from any aggression on my part would also leave me vulnerable to attack, should she wish to end me. More than that, a warrior’s equipment is almost as important as their body, insofar as battle is concerned. What she had done was slightly less offensive than poisoning me.

“I think she’s actually a bit fond of you,” Morning remarked. “None of the emergency countermeasures she put on your gear are lethal. Or perhaps she has simply gotten better at hiding the lethal traps.” She studied my armor for a time longer, then chuckled to herself. “Alas, ‘tis the latter.”

“I am unsurprised.” I glanced out the nearby window, my eyes seeking out the magus’ tower. “Might I ask that you or your husband undo the enchantments that would allow Sunbeam to control me? I would consider it a personal favor.”

“I could see it done easily enough.” Morning looked down at my equipment, then to me. “In exchange, I ask two things. First, that you watch o’er my husband when you share the field with him. Second, that you speak with me candidly and wholly whilst I work. I find that conversing helps me concentrate on my work, and there are things I would discuss with you.”

“It is agreed, then.” So far as prices went, she asked little enough that I did not hesitate to pay it. I suspect ‘twas less a matter of generosity than ‘twas that there was little she could think to ask of me. I would have watched o’er Copper e’en if she had not asked it of me, and I had no objection to becoming better acquainted with his wife.

“Well and good.” The mare took up my armor, tsking at it as she set to work undoing Sunbeam’s trickery. “I see you have already learned the first rule of working alongside Sunbeam Sparkle: never trust her blindly. She is reliable enough, in her own way, but she does not have true friends or allies. Only desires, and ponies who can help her in achieving them.” Morning paused, tapping a hoof ‘gainst my armor. “Still, there is a reliable predictability to her. Her end goals are consistent, and the means by which she pursues them follow a certain logic.”

“Mayhaps so, but I find that logic deeply unpleasant.” I scowled, thinking back to her most recent attempt to bed me. “I find associating with her to be almost unbearable, at times.”

“Frequent association accustoms one to her,” Morning remarked neutrally. She looked over my armor, a thoughtful frown on her face. “To be frank, I think my husband is too willing to o’erlook her faults for the sake of their shared ideals. I know he was eager to arrange an alliance ‘tween the two of you. An effort which, ‘twould seem, has met with some success.”

“I will work alongside her for the good of Equestria,” I allowed. “If nothing else, her reputation as a battle magus is considerable. Still, I have little desire to further her ambitions.”

The mare offered a wordless murmur by way of response, before her magic rippled over my armor. “Ah, she has improved her traps since last I sought to undo them. ‘Twill be interesting.” She worked in silence for a brief time before resuming the conversation. “In truth, I care little for the internal politics of the magi. I find that the constant factional squabbling largely serves only to distract us from our true duties. ‘Twas that which made me a good match for Copper. He needed a mare who held some respect among her peers, and a moderate political position.”  She let out a faint snort. “Our marriage lent him a touch more respectability, and assured many moderates that he would not be excessively radical in his reformist tendencies.”

“So ‘twas purely a matter of politics, then?” I had hesitated to say as much myself, lest it seem I was denigrating their marriage.

“Oh, not merely that.” She paused, thoughtfully looking over my breastplate as she considered her words. “We worked together on his spellbook template project, and I found his company enjoyable enough. He was charming and handsome, and e’en though I care little for politics, I was well aware of his position. There are benefits to being the wife of an Archmagus: I have my pick of the best research opportunities, and access to any resources I wish for.” She paused, a contemplative frown on her face. “And though ‘twas not a match borne of love, we have grown fond of one another, o’er the years. We both love our children dearly.”

“I am glad to hear it.” I considered my own words carefully ere I spoke. “I was fond of him as well, in our shared past. But only fond of him.”

Morning Star paused her work for several seconds, then offered a small nod. “I had already surmised as much, given that there was ne’er e’en an attempt at a proper courtship. And fear not, I know him well enough that I do not fear for his loyalty—and if what he has told me of you is true, you would not seek such a thing either.” She let out a wistful sigh, and adjusted one of the greaves on my armor. “Still, there is a part of me that envies the spontaneity of what you shared. With us, it was years ere all the affections shared ‘tween husband and wife did not carry the stiffness of duty and obligation.”

“There is value to a love that endures the test of time,” I assured her, moving to her side as befitted the personal nature of our discussion. “My own experiences in romance have been passionate, but brief.” My mind turned to Rightly once more. ‘Twas not a pleasing thought. “The flame that burns brightest burns fastest. Whereas with you, the foundations were properly lain, and a flame carefully kindled o’er many years.”

“You are kind to say so.” She looked over my armor, then gave a satisfied nod and shifted her attention to my wing-blades.  “May I ask a personal question?”

“You may.” I had given my word to speak openly with her as the price of her services, so I could hardly refuse her the right to ask any question she cared to, so long as she did not ask that I betray any other oaths.

Thankfully, she did nothing of the sort. Instead her eyes briefly turned to a portrait of herself and Copper. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you and he had travelled the road not taken? Copper still speaks fondly of you, and ‘tis plain enough that the affection is mutual.” She quickly held up a hoof to forestall any response. “I am not questioning your honor or his, or implying that either of you would do something inappropriate. I am simply ... curious.”

I retrieved my armor, looking it over as I considered her question. “Copper and I? Together?” I turned the helmet about in my hooves as I thought on it. “Aye, I have. Only on rare occasions, and as an idle flight of fancy. Much the same for other ponies with whom I was close.” ‘Twas no surprise that Rightly had occupied my thoughts greatly of late.

Morning’s eyes held mine, and I gathered that further elaboration was desired. “Copper and I enjoyed our time together well enough, but I think we were naught but good friends, and ‘twas naught but the passions of youth that made it more than that. Besides which, anything more than a brief liaison would have been difficult to maintain, given our stations and desires. My ambitions bound me to Pegasopolis, and his to Unicornia. Neither of us were enamored enough of the other to put ambition aside.” Another thought came to mind, and I offered the mare a rare smile. “Also, I suspect I would be quite deaf in one ear if I regularly shared a bed with him.”

That bit of wit drew a loud snort from the mare. “So he didst snore e'en in his youth?”

“Aye, he did.” I snorted as well as memories came to mind. “‘Pon first hearing it, I thought I feared that our tent was shortly to be assaulted by an especially amorous bear.”

His wife chortled. “Our first night together found me wondering if there was an unscheduled thunderstorm. Thankfully, I managed to learn a muffling spell, thus maintaining our domestic harmony.” The two of us shared a laugh at Copper’s expense, though Morning was quick to offer a few words in her husband’s defense. “Still, he is a good stallion. And I did eventually succeed in teaching him to properly clean up after himself.”

“I am duly impressed then. My own efforts at doing so met with little success.” I bowed my head to her, acknowledging the achievement. “Truly, you are a paragon of wifely virtue.”

Morning answered me with a smile. “My thanks to—may we dispense with formality?” I nodded. “My thanks to thee, then.”

Morning was in the midst of regaling me with the tale of one of Copper’s less distinguished moments when the front door opened, and Copper announced his return. He joined us in the lounge with a ready smile on his face, only for it to rapidly disappear once he heard his wife’s words. “Morning! Must you tell Shadow of the unfortunate incident in our laboratory?”

Morning rose from her place and exchanged a brief and chaste kiss with her husband, then offered him an impish smile. “Indeed I must. ‘Tis far too fine a tale to go unshared. ‘Tis a pity I could not arrange to hire a painter to commemorate the state of thy mane. Ne’er before have I seen so many hairs standing on end, though ‘tis a known hazard of working with electricity. The coloration, however, was something far more unique. Despite thy thoughts on the matter, pink did suit thee.”

“Alas.” Copper turned to me, shaking his head resignedly. “Thou seest now the doom that hath come upon me, Shadow? I am wed to a mare who airs my deepest and darkest secrets for all to hear.” When the only response he received from me was laughter, the stallion groaned and rubbed at his temples. “So, thou art in league with her now. Truly, fate is cruel.”

Morning and I exchanged a glance, and our laughter redoubled.

We continued enjoying ourselves at the unfortunate stallion’s expense, whilst he vainly protested his treatment at our hooves. “To think I am treated so cruelly by my own lady wife when I shall shortly be off to war!”

The laughter instantly died on our lips at his words, and Morning slowly rose from her seat and moved to her husband’s side. There was a quiet undertone of barely restrained worry in her voice. “‘Tis come to that time, then?”

“It is,” Copper confirmed with a grave nod, his own gaiety equally gone. “Polaris ... or to be more accurate, Famous Spear, thinks it important we move swiftly, and that all the Archmagi serve as part of the response force. As much for politics as anything else; we cannot muster a full army yet, and our strategy is one of harassment rather than proper engagement. The highest-ranking among the magi must be seen to be present, so that our commitment to the war effort is on display for all whose loyalty has begun to waver.”

“All of the Archmagi?” I frowned at that. “‘Twould leave us none to watch o’er Canterlot, should the rebels steal a march ‘pon us.”

“Polaris will not allow Sunbeam Sparkle to join the army,” Copper answered with a dismissive wave. “Despite her demotion, ‘tis plainly known by all that she is among the best of us. I am still slightly offended that she can cast lightning about nearly as well as I.” He let out an annoyed snort. “Something about manipulating air temperatures to cause an electrical buildup. Though she cannot beat me in my chosen element, she is entirely too skilled at it. Especially when she has her own talents as well. Canterlot will not be unguarded.”

“‘Tis likely so,” I conceded. Though I had not seen any display of Sunbeam’s combat prowess beyond her brief and horrendously mismatched duel with Valiant Doo, ‘twas plain enough that she had the skills needed to be an Archmagus, regardless of her current status. And there were likely other ponies in Canterlot of similar skill, but lacking in the same political status. Polaris and Spear’s strategy focused a great deal on the appearance of strength, while husbanding the reality of it to conceal the fact that we were yet unready for war.

Morning pressed against Copper’s side, and he wrapped a hoof o’er her back. “How long will it be, ere thou must depart?” 

“Later today, though we’ve time enough to say a proper farewell.” A half-hearted smile crossed his lips, and he added, “If needs be, I can delay a few hours past the army’s departure, and rejoin them.” Magi do have far swifter ways of travelling than walking.

Morning gave an angry, bitter shake of her head. “Would that I could accompany thee, but I have orders of my own.” She placed a hoof on her husband’s lips. “Yes, I know, I am a far better enchanter than I am a battle-mage, but I would still be at thy side.”

I could quite sympathize with Morning Star’s feelings on the matter. Had I the option of doing so, I would also stand at Copper’s side in the field. Alas, politics and practicality demanded we play separate roles in the war. Though I could see the logic in having my clan aid in readying the army, I still wished to have a place on the battlefield. However, if I were forced to choose ‘tween standing at my clan’s side, or standing at Copper’s ... there was not e’en a choice to be made. Duty o’errode all other concerns.

Copper pulled his wife close, embracing her. “I would have thee remain here, Morning. ‘Tis foul enough that our children must have one parent taken from them.” A troubled frown crossed his face. “And if I should fall, I would—”

“Do not speak of such things,” Morning snapped, though a moment later she sighed and shook her head. “Thou shalt return to me, and to our children. I know it in my heart.” She took one of her husband’s hooves and pressed it to her chest, holding it silently for several seconds before she finally spoke once more. “Come, the children are at the Royal Academy for their lessons, but none would object to an interruption for this.”

“Of course.” Copper turned to me. “Shadow, I beg thy pardon, but I must away. Fare thee well, my friend.”

I nodded to him offering a hoof. “And thee as well, old friend.” He shook it, and we parted ways.





Rather than allow my thoughts to linger on Copper’s departure, I moved to the matter of duty. I was scheduled to meet with Grandmaster Crossguard later that day to discuss our own preparations for training our forces and fortifying the city. As my business centered heavily on the training of new recruits, I retrieved Sergeant Stalwart for the meeting. Given that he frequently o’ersaw the training of my clan’s recruits, I could think of no better pony to see to the preparation of our combined forces.

Despite my efforts to focus, my mind yet lingered on other matters as we approached the Sol Invictus compound. Copper would shortly be facing my former comrades across a battlefield. ‘Twas e’en possible that he might meet Rightly in battle, and that one of them would slay the other. To my shame, I could not bring myself to wholly wish Copper the victor in that contest. ‘Twas far easier to think of hardening my heart ‘gainst the enemies of my Commander than to bring myself to truly believe that ponies I had long named as friends were now naught but enemies.

Were it not for that state of distraction, I like would not have needed Stalwart’s prompting. “M’lady, the compound nears.” He directed my gaze to it, and added. “‘Twould appear there is some disturbance there.”

I followed his gaze, and needed a moment to grasp what had drawn his attention. On my last visit to the Order’s compound, it had been a bustling hub of activity, full of ponies training for battle  Now, though there were still many ponies present, there was a stillness o’er the compound. More than that, I could feel a sort of tension in the air. ‘Tis hard to describe precisely what it was I detected: most likely a dozen small things not worth noting individually, but my mind had been trained to recognize the warning signs without conscious thought. Whatever ‘twas I saw, heard, or felt, the conclusion was plain. Violence brewed in the air.

Once we landed in the courtyard, the reasons for it were plain enough. All eyes were fixed upon the center of the courtyard, where stood Polaris’s mercenary commander. I offered Stalwart the likely explanation. “Gale tells me Famous Spear was expelled from the Order. ‘Tis likely he is most unwelcome here.”

“The fact that every other pony in the courtyard is glaring at him as if they would do him violence given the slightest excuse would indicate as much, m’lady,” Stalwart dryly observed. “Curious, that he would set hoof in a place where none desire him.”

“We go where duty takes us.” I landed in the open courtyard, some distance from the brewing storm. “An advisor to the commander of Equestria’s armies has business with the pony in charge of Canterlot’s defenses, regardless of any past history ‘tween them.” I frowned at the scene. “Though one would think that Polaris could have found another for his business here. Unless Famous Spear is merely enjoying the fruits of his new position.”

“He would not be the first to do so.” Stalwart offered polite nods to those ponies nearest us, though they provided little in the way of response. ‘Twould seem their antipathy for the exile had o’erwhelmed the normal courtesy of the ponies of Sol Invictus.

However, Famous Spear seemed unaffected by the glares, and approached us, no doubt hoping to find a welcome from the only ponies present who were not members of the Order. The grizzled mercenary unicorn stopped before me, an uncaring smile on his face as he looked o’er the glaring knights of his old order. “Milady Shadow, ‘tis a pleasure.”

“Likewise.” I was wary of seeming too friendly with the mercenary, both because of his reputation and the fact that we were in the midst of a compound full of ponies who were clearly hostile to him. However, he had offered a courteous greeting, and ‘twould be rude and insulting to refuse to acknowledge him. So, I adopted the tone of perfect, careful neutrality. “How fares the day for you?”

“Well enough, though I fear I am less than welcome here.” He directed a pointed look to the many knights in the courtyard. “Still, ‘tis not half so bad as the time I was captured by pirates, and within a few months of that I was captaining the vessel.” He looked to his former comrades, then snorted. “I somehow doubt I shall enjoy similar luck here. ‘Twould seem that the circumstances of my departure have not yet been forgotten, or forgiven.”

“Indeed they have not.” Grandmaster Crossguard strode forward from the crowd. Unlike the rest of his order, he showed no open hostility towards the mercenary. Instead, there was an air of weary disappointment about him as he looked at his former knight. While the others glared at Spear as if he were a villain and a traitor, Crossguard’s countenance reminded me of my father’s, on those rare occasions when I had failed to live up to his expectations. “The Order of Sol Invictus has standards. Standards which thou didst fail to meet.”

Spear answered that with a snort. “I think it matters little if I enjoyed a good cider after battle, or the company of a fine mare. I saw bandits and monsters dealt with well enough, did I not?”

“Thy skill at arms was ne’er the issue,” Crossguard answered coolly. He sighed, then slowly shook his head. “‘Tis not enough that we do our duty effectively, we must also do it properly. The Order serves as an example to all of ponykind. Not only didst thou fail to conduct thyself in a manner befitting one of our number, thou didst also commit foul and infamous acts.”

“The bandits?” Spear waved a hoof, brushing the remark aside. “As I said at the time, hanging the corpses from the city walls sent a message to all of the consequences of banditry. I will note that Vanhoover had a notable drop in bandit activity after that incident.”

Crossguard scowled at him. “The Order does not make trophies of our enemies. The dead are to be treated with dignity and respect. I see thou hast learned nothing from thine exile.”

“I would not be so sure of that.” Spear turned to me, and offered a brief nod. “I apologize for not being able to offer you more of my time madam, and for neglecting our discussion on account revisiting troubles long past with my former comrades. ‘Twould seem if I linger here ‘twould only lead to more unpleasantness. I will prevail ‘pon Polaris to allow you to join him in the field—training our armies is a worthy use of your clan, but your expertise would be of value in contending ‘gainst the ephorate. I think once he can claim a victory for himself and the pride of Unicornia, ‘twill be easy enough to manage.”

I considered my response carefully, for I did not want to offend either party in the conversation. “My thanks for that, though my primary interest is in seeing the war brought to a successful conclusion.”

“In that, we are in agreement.” Spear glanced back at his old grandmaster. “Fear not, Crossguard. Though I may not conduct this war with the honor you desire, I will win it.”

“That remains to be seen,” Crossguard groused, before closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath. “Whate’er our history, I will wish thee luck in the field, Spear. We are on the same side, in this conflict.”

“That we are.” Famous Spear turned to me, and nodded. “A good day to you, madam.” Having said his farewells, the mercenary walked for the gate. Once he’d left the Order’s compound, the tension bubbling within it thankfully dispersed.

Once the fallen knight had properly left the area, Grandmaster Crossguard turned to me and briefly lowered his head. “I am sorry that you bore witness to that, Lady Shadow. 'Twould seem the past yet lingers o'er us.”

“Think nothing of it,” I answered easily. “War has forced all who are loyal to the Commander into a single camp, regardless of our personal preferences.” My mind turned to Sunbeam Sparkle and, to a lesser extent, Polaris. “‘Tis no surprise there is tension when ponies who would otherwise be enemies must work as allies.”

“We do live in troubled times.” Crossguard directed one final look in Spear’s direction, then shook his head and turned his full attention to me. “But enough of past mistakes and old grudges. We have more than enough troubles to occupy our time without lingering on ills best left to the past.”

“That we do.” I pointed towards Stalwart, who had remained respectfully silent whilst we spoke. “I have brought my best training sergeant, Stalwart. We did intend to discuss the training of our militia and levy forces, neigh?”

“You are too kind, m'lady,” Stalwart answered modestly. 

Crossguard offered a slight nod to the sergeant, then turned back to me. “I am sure his expertise will be of use.” He turned towards the central keep, beckoning me to follow him. “Training our soldiers is perhaps our greatest task at the moment. The assistance of your clan’s capable sergeants would be invaluable.”

“Such had been my thought as well.” I agreed. “Stalwart and his subordinates have years of experience in training our clan’s young.” With some reluctance, I also added, “They know our enemies, and how they fight. ‘Tis an asset.”

“Useful knowledge indeed.” Crossguard paused, then amended, “Though I would prefer that it did not come to us under such dark circumstances. I will do what I can to keep your clan from facing their counterparts in the field. War is cruel enough without the prospect of kinslaying.”

“We have no kin remaining in Pegasopolis.” I scowled at the thought of it. “There are only Cumuli and traitors remaining.”

For a moment Crossguard’s mouth opened, as if he were about to speak, but he remained silent. We proceeded to the central keep of the Order’s compound. As he opened a door and politely held it for me, he spoke once more of business. “‘Twill be a difficult task to train our forces to be the equal of Pegasopolis’s clans. I am under no illusions about their mettle.”

“Aye, the clans are trained from birth in the way of the warrior. E’en the weakest among us is a formidable force on the battlefield.” I had seen the devastation wrought by the clans often enough, but ne’er before had I thought to find myself contending ‘gainst it. The memory of the recent ‘battle ‘gainst the reivers, where my forces killed o’er a dozen griffons for each of our own who fell, was fresh in my mind. I did not think a half-trained milita-pony could e’en match a reiver’s skill at arms. The implications were worrying. “We must find every advantage we can, if we are to battle the clans.”

“That we must.” A troubled frown appeared on his face as he led me deeper into the keep, likely towards some conference room intended for our meeting. Given what I had been told regarding the burden age had taken ‘pon him, ‘twas likely we would be speaking while his subordinates were also present. “We have our knights and magi—as well as the soldiers of your clan. All potent forces, but they cannot come near to matching the numbers of all Pegasoplis’ clans on their own. We must have levies and militia to bolster our numbers, but I do not think they can stand ‘gainst Pegasopolis without a good deal of preparation.” He paused, then shook his head and reluctantly added, “Many also fear the clans’ reputation. The average peasant and craftspony knows enough of war to grasp their own ignorance, and that they will shortly be fighting masters of it. I am not confident that they would e’en stand firm ‘gainst the charge.”

I found myself in agreement with his assessment. E’en when Pegasopolis had been a friend and ally, many ponies feared our warriors. Now that they were enemies, that fear was sure to be redoubled. “That being the case, we must ready the levies and militias ere they take a place on the battlefield. Have you decided what weapons and tactics we will train them in?”

Crossguard opened a door, revealing a room dominated by a table covered in maps and papers, o’er which two unicorns in the heraldry of the Order labored. “That is one of the things I wished to discuss with you, along with some of my other trusted advisors.” He nodded to each of them in turn as he made his introductions. “Shadow Kicker, this is my Knight-Commander, Noble Quest, and his wife and Chief Hospitaller, Pure Heart. I believe you are already acquainted with their son, Radiant Day.”

“I am.” I turned to face the two of them. “‘Tis a pleasure to at last make thine acquaintance.”

Pure Heart offered a polite curtsey. “Matriarch, the pleasure is entirely ours.”

Her husband saluted me. “We had desired to meet with thee sooner, and under better circumstances, but the events of the past few days have prevented it. For that, you have our apologies.”

“We have all been very busy; our duties take first priority.” I waved a hoof to Stalwart. “This is Sergeant Stalwart, my clan’s chief trainer.”

Stalwart rose, and briefly addressed them. “Sir, ma'am. ‘Twill be a pleasure working with you.”

The two officers gave Stalwart a short nod, and then Pure Heart turned to me. “Milady Shadow, do you require refreshment before we start?”

“Neigh.”

Stalwart let out a soft cough. “A glass of water, if 'tis not too much trouble.”

Pure Heart looked me and, after I nodded, offered my sergeant a smile. “Of course. One moment.” She employed her magic to set a glass before him.

While Stalwart enjoyed his water, Crossguard spoke to me. “You are, of course, always welcome to the hospitality of our order for the duration of this war, and hopefully beyond. Feel free to come to me at any time, should you feel the need. The war effort is far more important than points of etiquette.” He waved a hoof towards Stalwart. “That offer extends to the rest of your clan, as well.”

“That is most generous of you, and I thank you for it.” I offered the grandmaster a grateful smile. “I would say the same, were it not for the fact that our hold is still being made fit for habitation. Once 'tis suitable for receiving guests, I would gladly offer you our own hospitality.”

“Well and good then.” Crossguard took a seat between his two advisors, and waved a hoof towards the opposite chairs. Once Stalwart and I had settled, he continued. “Cooperation will be absolutely essential if we are to achieve victory. So, let us discuss the matter of preparing our army for the task before it.”

“Our first difficulty is one of time.” I found a suitable map of Equestria for our purposes. “Polaris’s strategy will buy us some time, but ‘tis likely that once he has become a thorn in the rebels’ side they will attempt to force a battle, likely by moving against Canterlot. Whether the ploy succeeds or not, we must be ready for battle when the time comes. Especially as they would likely be able to outmaneuver Polaris and place their forces ‘tween him and Canterlot, once they know his position.” That brought a related matter to mind. “If we are to meet them in battle, we must devise tactics that will allow us to minimize their mobility. So long as their flight allows them to outmaneuver us, we will be hard-pressed to engage in battle without being defeated in detail.”

“‘Tis the great advantage of the pegasi,” Crossguard agreed. “Discipline and experience can be gained by our levies, but flight will e’er elude them. In truth, my greatest fear about Polaris’s current plans is the matter of mobility; should his army be caught and engaged, he would be hard-pressed to escape. As it stands, when we meet the enemy ‘twill be all but impossible to protect our flanks and rear.”

“Strikes from above are a concern, as well.” ‘Twas no surprise that Crossguard did not immediately consider that threat—my experience has been that the ground-dwelling breeds of ponykind often have difficulty grasping the intricacies of combat in three dimensions. “'Twould be ideal if we could engage them in terrain that limited their flight. A pegasus forced to the ground is a far lesser threat.”

“Our magi can only do much to deter them, unless they are to focus all their efforts on that.” Crossguard remarked. “There are other methods to make our forces more mobile, such as employing chariot dragoons, but I fear that does little more than diminish our disadvantage, not remove it. (2) If we are to meet their armies, I think it must be on terrain of our choosing. Though we do hold some advantage in that regard, the rebels must come to us eventually. Their victory is not complete until they take Canterlot.”

2: Chariot Dragoons were a common means of increasing the strategic and tactical mobility of ground forces by using either dedicated chariot ponies, or having teams switching out so one group could rest while the other rode. Chariot dragoons were frequently used to improve the army’s strategic mobility, though tactical use produced considerably more mixed results due to the relative ease of countering chariot tactics and their dependence on good terrain. The land-based chariot largely fell out of favor after the invention of the steam engine and creation of Equestria’s railroad network.

“Aye, 'tis so.” Much as it pained me to admit it, I found myself forced to concede the next comment. “Though Polaris was not wrong in saying that passivity would be dangerous. Wars are not won by hiding in fortresses.”

“I would not be so quick to credit the words to Polaris, when he was likely only repeating what Spear told him.” Crossguard frowned a moment after saying that, and waved a hoof. “Though mayhaps I give him too little credit in saying that—e’en if I think little of his generalship, his political insight has ne’er been lacking. Regardless of who the words belong to, they are correct. We cannot allow the earth ponies to be overrun while we do nothing.”

“But we can do precious little until we solve the issue of mobility.” I thought back to my last visit to the Order’s compound. “I have noted your order uses a most effective formation for engaging large monsters. I think that with work, it might be adapted to the task of mass combat.”

Noble Quest’s ears stood at that. “You think so, milady? I would think that any form of combat where carefully ordered formations are key to victory would be particularly vulnerable to pegasus attack, given the vulnerability of the flanks. Especially with a formation like the Dragon’s Teeth—pikes are formidable against a frontal assault, but against any enemy not obliging or stupid enough to run into a wall of pikes, they quickly become nothing but an impediment. Worse still, they could attack our magi and crossbowponies with impunity.”

I offered a slight nod, conceding the matter. Though I still felt the formation had potential, Noble did raise an indisputable point. As it was, the formation would only be useful if I could force a battle in a long, narrow, low-ceilinged corridor.

My attempts to puzzle the matter through were briefly interrupted by the clink of glass on wood as Stalwart set his water down. When he lifted the glass once more, the condensation gathered on the outside left behind a ring of water, standing out against the dark wood of the table. That image provided me with the inspiration I needed. “If flanks are a problem, we could simply remove them. Instead of a line, use a circular formation.”

Crossguard frowned, thinking the matter over. “That is not entirely without merit. A wall of pikes in all directions. I think a square would be better than a circle, though. Formations with straight lines are far easier to manage than those with curves, especially if we want to maintain our battlefield mobility. Given the number of conscripts we will be relying upon, simplicity is a virtue.”

Stalwart looked to me for permission, and then spoke. “The pike is an easy enough weapon to learn. Same for the crossbow. ‘Twould not be o’erly difficult to instruct the levies in both. Prudence dictates instructing them in using a backup weapon too, in case the enemy closes in. I would suggest hammer hooves and horn spikes.”

Noble turned to the sergeant. “The Order trains its new recruits in those weapons before any others for precisely that reason. Both are weapons which one can gain basic proficiency with in the course of a few hours’ instruction, and yet still effective in battle if used properly.” A troubled frown crossed his face. “Discipline is essential to the pikewall, though. If e’en a small portion falters, it creates an opening that will compromise the entire line.”

Stalwart offered a single nod. “Aye, but I can train them in discipline. E’en more quickly if I might have the use of our clan’s numbers.” He looked to me, and I nodded for him to continue. “Accustom them to facing a pegasus charge in training, and they will find the reality of it far less frightening.”

“Sensible,” Noble agreed, his attention firmly on Stalwart. “I would not mind hearing more of thine own methods, Sergeant. I suspect there is much our trainers and those of thy clan can learn from one another.”

“Likely so,” Stalwart agreed. “Common wisdom in Pegasopolis is that none know war half so well as we do. E’en if ‘tis so, that does not mean that those who have a lesser quantity of knowledge might not know aspects of war which we have not found.”

In that, Stalwart was quite correct. Considering the matter of our formation, I still would have preferred a circle—it seemed a stronger formation with fewer vulnerabilities. However, that was a choice based on my accustomment to working alongside the clans of Pegasopolis. With a largely conscripted army, the quality of our troops likely made it a poor choice. Given all that we would need to train our soldiers in, simple formations that could be easily executed were likely the better choice. A circle might be stronger than a square, but a proper square would be far stronger than a failed circle. “We have settled on the formation, then. 'Twould be vulnerable from above, though.”

“Aye.” Crossguard pulled out a sheet of parchments and a quill, and quickly sketched out the formation. “Though the formation lacks vulnerable flanks, there would be little to prevent pegasi from simply landing in the middle of the square, behind the pike line.”

“The magi and crossbows will take a heavy toll on them if they are not quick in their landing, at least.” I thought further on the formation, trying to approach it as an attacker would, so that I might consider how best to counter the rebels’ likely approach. “Having the last rank of pikes keep their weapons upraised would deny the enemy aerial charge lanes, beyond particularly steep ones.” ‘Twas well known that the steeper the charge, the harder ‘twas to manage. E’en the best flyers cannot instantly reverse course when flying at charging speeds.

“Some of Bright’s pegasi have the skill for a near-vertical charge.” Stalwart frowned down at the square. “There is also the matter of bombardment. A densely packed formation like that is a fine target for it. A stone dropped from a thousand feet is sure to hit somepony in the ranks.”

Crossguard nodded, then was briefly silent as he considered the matter. “The magi within the square will likely have to shield the top of it whene’er danger threatens from that direction. ‘Twill require timing on their part in raising and lowering the defenses, else the shield will prevent our crossbows from striking or e’en deflect the bolts into our own troops. Not to mention the magi themselves will likely struggle to manage offense and defense simultaneously.” Crossguard was silent for a few moments, then nodded. “Still, the magi should be up to the task, and I shall have words with Magus Sparkle to ensure that they train for it.”

“Assuming the magi can fill the demands made of them, that would seem a workable solution,” I agreed.  “We can also choose our terrain so as to minimize the advantage of flight.”

Crossguard looked to me with a frown. “Pray tell, how can such a thing be done? It strikes me as difficult to deny a pegasus their birthright, and most forms of rough terrain will favor the ponies who can bypass the ground entirely.”

I looked up the ceiling, then took wing, taking care to avoid flapping my wings hard enough to produce any significant wind, though Pure Heart still felt the need to secure the loose papers covering much of the table. Given that we were indoors, I could barely obtain a pony’s height above the floor without being at risk of striking my head on a low-hanging rafter. I judged that restriction more than sufficient to make my point, and landed shortly thereafter.

The Grandmaster ducked his head to me. “Well said, milady. Though I rather doubt we could build a low-ceilinged room large enough for our armies to do battle, or persuade them to do battle there. Still, if we could engage them in a thick enough forest, ‘twould be quite sufficient to reduce the advantages of flight. Though forests are not kind to formations either, if we hope to have any sort of mobility for our own armies.”

“‘Tis so, but if both our armies are slowed to a crawl then we have succeeded in evening the field, if nothing else.” I considered the matter, and how we might initiate a battle on favorable terms. “Provoking them to strike in terrain of our choosing might well be possible, at least for our first engagement.”

That drew a doubtful frown from Noble Quest. “You think so, milady? Rightly and his fellow ephors are no fools; surely they would deny us battle in a place of our choosing, and given their greater mobility ‘twould be extremely difficult to force them to battle on unfavourable terms.”

“Aye, but there is another weakness we might exploit.” I drew forth one of the maps, idly searching for suitable terrain for such a battle. “The clans are proud of their skills, and consider themselves by far the better warriors. Further, Polaris's harassment strategy will leave them eager to properly face the enemy in battle.”

Crossguard gave a brief nod to signal his understanding. “You believe they would be plagued with overconfidence, and overpowered by a desire to bring us to battle? To the point where they would surrender the advantage of terrain?”

“I think it is a possibility worth considering.” I myself had learned that pegasus pride could be blinding. I had been arrogantly certain that no other could command Equestria’s armies half so well as I, only to discover that I was mistaken in that belief. Though the pegasi still had the best warriors in Equestria, there was some martial skill to be found among the other races.

“All in Equestria know that Pegasopolan soldiers are trained from birth to be the greatest warriors in the land.” A faint, knowing smile appeared on Noble Quest’s face. “Including the pegasi themselves. They know that, pony-for-pony, our levies and militia would be no match for their soldiers. I am sure we all know what usually happens when hardened soldiers engage poorly trained and disciplined farmers and shopkeepers. Terrain is immaterial if the army breaks in the battle’s opening minutes.”

“Meaning no disrespect to our current hosts,” Stalwart began, “but one of the most often-quoted sayings in Pegasopolis is that during the liberation of Manehatten, Luna stated that ‘twould take a battalion of earth ponies to achieve what a mere platoon of pegasi could manage.” (3)

3: I actually managed to get a friend to ask Princess Luna about this quote that’s often attributed to her. It turns out that while it’s semi-accurate, the context was lost over time. She was specifically speaking of sending a pegasus platoon to infiltrate an enemy fortress and open the gates from within, rather than just launching a frontal assault and battering the defenses down. It’s probably no surprise that the pegasi preferred to remember the quote as “40 pegasi are worth 800 earth ponies” rather than “don’t launch frontal assaults on heavily fortified positions when you can bypass them.”

Crossguard let out a low chuckle. “Interestingly enough, many of our knights will proudly claim that each of them is a match for ten levy-ponies. And the earth ponies likely have similar regarding how we know a great deal about elaborate military maneuvers, but precious little of proper brawling.” A faint smile crossed his face. “Though if my knights were in the midst of a barroom brawl, I would expect them to acquit themselves well. Bad enough that they are brawling like drunken louts in the first place, but they could at least have the decency to win.”

“We would not disappoint you, Grandmaster,” the Knight-Commander assured him.

“Good. The Order of Sol Invictus has a reputation to maintain, e’en when ‘tis in the midst of being disreputable.” The veteran warpony offered a grin to his subordinates, then turned back to me. “Forgive that brief distraction, milady. In dark times, a jest is a welcome relief. Returning to business, then. If there is a chance that we might dictate the terrain for e’en a single battle, we should not squander the advantage.” He frowned, looking over a map covering everything within a day’s march of Canterlot. “While the woods do deny our enemies much of the advantage flight conveys, the very same trees would also hamper our line of sight, and reduce the effectiveness of our battle magi and crossbows.”

“Unless we could arrange our line along the edge of the treeline or an open area with relatively few breaks in the canopy,” Noble pointed out. “Such details are rarely placed on maps, though; we would need to scout the terrain ourselves.”

“I would not be especially confident in the conscripts’ ability to use their crossbows at extended range, regardless,” Stalwart declared. “Direct fire is easily taught, but past fifty yards the need to account for wind and gravity will seriously diminish their effectiveness.”

Pure Heart cleared her throat. Given that the hospitaller had not contributed greatly to the discussion of tactics, her presence was likely a matter of completeness for the Order. “I should mention that calling forth fireballs and lightning bolts are not the only options available to a proper battle magus.” (4)

4: At this time, the Chief Hospitaller of the Order of Sol Invictus was effectively in charge of all the Order’s non-combat functions. While she wouldn’t be participating on the battlefield, Pure Heart would need to know about any battle plans in order to take care of supply requirements and any special equipment the army might need. Not to mention that, as her title implies, she would be in charge of the army’s medical facilities.

“Direct attack spells are only one of the things a magus can conjure,” I agreed. My mind went back to my days as a warlock hunter, working alongside Copper. While his mastery of electricity as a direct weapon was not to be doubted, he could also charge my blades and armor with it, punishing any enemy who struck me while making my own blows far deadlier. And then there were the many uses he found for electromagnetism; I pitied our foes who fought ‘gainst him in metal armor.

I shook Copper Spark from my thoughts, lest nostalgia and melancholy o’er his departure distract me from present matters. “Are there any suitable forests near Canterlot, then?”

Crossguard shifted the map that had occupied his attention so that I could see it. Several locations had been marked on it, each with a few notes regarding their suitability. “Any of these seem like they would fit our purposes, though I cannot say for sure until I have at least sent scouts to do a proper survey. Sadly, most of our maps are only slightly more detailed than ‘here there be forests.’ Polaris took many of our best scouts with him, so we must make do with what we have.”

“My clan can likely aid in the process.” Though most of my clanponies would likely benefit from being accompanied by a pony more familiar with ground warfare, a simple sky chariot would attend to that. “I think we have a strategy, then.”

Crossguard gave me a slight frown. “In most aspects, aye. I must ask, however, what role you intend your clan to play. So far we have only discussed how our ground forces will engage the enemy.”

“Ah.” I was perhaps too used to using my clan as I saw fit. Command in Pegasopolis was traditionally a very loose thing. Field officers were expected to use their own initiative, and orders were often little more than a list of objectives, given with the expectation that the unit commander would exercise his own judgment in seeing them accomplished. ‘Twould seem that was not the way of things in Unicornia, though I should not be surprised to learn it. If I was to be Crossguard’s subordinate then ‘twould seem we would both have many adjustments to make.

The first adjustment would be answering his inquiry. “I had thought to use my clan as skirmishers and a mobile reserve, disrupting enemy attacks and exploiting weaknesses as they appear. It seems the best use of their abilities.”

“Putting our only flying troops in the midst of a pike wall would be a waste,” Noble Cause agreed. 

“Agreed.” Crossguard nodded to me. “I hope you realize, milady, that I meant no offense by my inquiry. ‘Twas simply a matter of coordination. If ‘tis your intention to employ your clan as a skirmishing force, I would advise speaking with Sunbeam on the matter. She could likely provide your clan with a few things to aid in that. Now, shall we move on to the discussing the city’s defenses?”

All others within the room nodded, so Crossguard continued. “First, I am working with Greenwall as a liaison to the earth pony communities in proximity to Canterlot to collect all the provisions they can afford to spare, as a precaution. Though I do not judge a prolonged siege likely barring an unexpected disaster, ‘tis prudent to be prepared. Naturally, we are combining that process with gathering more of the militia to our cause.”

“Prudent.” Two tasks accomplished in a single movement was a fine use of resources, though I wondered at the practicality of preparing for a siege. I frowned, as I tried to find the best means of expressing myself. “Though ‘tis prudent to gather supplies, 'twill be difficult to e'en have a siege of the city. Pegasi have little respect for fixed defenses, and if the enemy steals a march on Canterlot they will likely aim to take it by storm ere Polaris can arrive to relieve us.”

Noble passed maps of the city to myself and Stalwart, whilst Crossguard responded to me. “As you say, walls would simply be flown o’er. However, I have spoken with Sunbeam on the matter, and we have devised a means of defense 'gainst that.” He slowly drew a circle ‘round the city itself, save for the area where the city anchored itself to the mountain. “Sunbeam has assured us that the magi can enclose the entire city within a magical shield, if need be. ‘Twill be a significant undertaking that will occupy a large portion of our mages’ strength, so I would prefer to hold on raising the shield until there is a certain threat ‘gainst the city.” (5)

5: It’s rather noteworthy that in Shadow’s time, shielding the city was a massive undertaking that occupied the strength of a significant portion of the magi. By modern times, Shining Armor and Princess Cadance have both managed it on their own. Granted, prior to the Rebellion there was relatively little research into creating city-wide shields, and during the course of the war itself many advances were made that were further developed during peacetime.

I was duly impressed by the plans, if only for the sheer scale of it. ‘Twas unsurprising to learn that the shield was Sunbeam’s idea, for it had an audacity that fit her. However, there was a single critical weakness in the plan. “The shield does not cover the mountain itself. I have heard much of mining within the mountain, do you know if the tunnels are extensive enough to provide entrance to the rebels?”

“That is one of our worries,” Crossguard confessed. “There are entrances to the tunnel network throughout the mountain, and there are sure to be current or former miners whose sympathies lie with the rebels. If not in Canterlot, then from other communities. If the rebels mean to make an attempt on the city, ‘twill not be long ere they learn of the mines by some means, and have access to ponies with knowledge of tunnelcraft.”  

“Though we hold some advantage on account of controlling the mines.” Noble Quest offered. “However, the greatest problem before us is the mines themselves. The network of tunnels and shafts is so complex that nopony has ever properly mapped it. Unfortunately, a good portion of the mining guild's records were destroyed in a fire nearly five decades ago, and e’en then the miners did not always maintain the most thorough of records. Not to mention that many of the miners do not report all their activities to the guild, either from simple laziness or to conceal a few rich lodes to sate their own greed.” Quest let out a resigned sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Regardless of the reasons, the guild’s maps only cover main arteries and those places recently mined. We are having miners working around the clock to cave in as many tunnels as possible, and to map out the network to the best of our abilities.”

Stalwart frowned thoughtfully at his own map. “If we want to fight them in tight terrain, the caves would qualify, neigh?”

“Indeed they would.” Crossguard offered the both of us a tight smile. “That is why we are going to collapse some tunnels, but not all of them.” Noble provided him with a relatively current map of the tunnel network, which showed many tunnels marked for destruction, while a select few were being kept open. “I am having some of my knights who know of engineering work alongside the miners, deciding which tunnels are threats, and which can safely be left open and fortified.”

The map already showed more than a dozen positions being fortified, creating a network of forts with multiple redundancies. “If they try to break the defenses directly, 'twould quickly become unpleasant.”

Noble provided us with a drawing of one of the fortresses. “We are setting them up in areas open enough to provide us with proper fire lanes, but low-ceilinged enough to deny the pegasi effective flight. Our own soldiers will be guarding heavily fortified stone positions, and the pike is a devastating weapon in such narrow quarters. I can hardly think of a worse position for the rebels to attack.”

“They will likely try to have miners of their own in order to bypass those positions, then,” I cautioned. “Wars are rarely won by attacking the enemy where they are strongest. Were I in command of the rebel forces, I would only attack one of these fortresses to distract the enemy from my true purpose.”

“That is my expectation as well.” Crossguard agreed. “‘Tis why we employ miners so eagerly, and are drafting all we can who have knowledge of the Canterlot caves. If they are forced to dig their own shafts to outflank us, ‘twill not be quickly done, and with any luck our own miners will forewarn us of the attempt and allow us to counter them ere it is finished.”

So ‘twould be a battle of miners and engineers as much as warriors. I confess that a part of me misliked that thought, though I could not deny the practicality of it. Victory was victory, regardless of how ‘twas gained. So long as we did not resort to cruel or dishonorable tactics, I saw little issue with killing the enemy by collapsing a tunnel ‘pon them rather than putting them to the blade. The dead care little for the manner in which they die.

I nodded to Crossguard. “That much is settled, then. What of the magical shield? I presume ‘twill not be easily broken by main force?”

“Sunbeam Sparkle has assured me that the shield can take immense amounts of punishment, so long as enough magi of suitable ability are powering it.” Crossguard answered. “The only way they could break it would be if they possessed considerable magical power, or if our magi took such heavy casualties that they could no longer sustain the barrier.”

“I have the arcane formula for it if you are curious.” Pure Heart offered me several sheets of paper covered in complex runes which I only half understood.

Rather than linger on the details of the spell, my mind turned to the mare casting it. “Given that you have twice made mention of her regarding the shield, I take it Sunbeam Sparkle will be o'erseeing it’s casting and maintenance?”

“Aye,” Crossguard acknowledged. “Since I have been given mastery of the defense of Canterlot, I have changed her duties to something more suited to her talents. ‘Tis why I prefer that the Order avoid political entanglements: they lead to issues like our best magus being kept from the front lines and assigned to menial duties far beneath her.”

“I see.” I had hoped that I would be able to limit my contact with Sunbeam Sparkle. Having resigned myself to working alongside her for the good of Equestria had not made her company any more tolerable. If she was to have such a critical role in the defense of Canterlot, I could only pray that Polaris enjoyed such success in the field that the capital never came under threat.

Crossguard quirked an eyebrow and directed a questioning glance to me, likely having taken note of my disquiet. “Is there something on your mind, Shadow?”

Though I was hesitant to speak of personal matters in the midst of a war meeting, I was hard-pressed to deny that ‘twas relevant. “Sunbeam Sparkle and I are less than fond of one another. I would not advise asking us to work in close proximity to one another.”

“Ah.” Crossguard sighed, running a hoof o’er his face. “I suppose I should not e’en be surprised to hear it. Sunbeam has a rare talent for making ponies despise her, matched only by her ability to make herself utterly indispensable. Still, there are ways to minimize her more negative aspects.” He looked to his subordinates and Stalwart. “Might we have the room? There are matters I would discuss with Lady Shadow in privacy.”

Noble Quest and Pure Heart immediately rose and proceeded to the exit, while Stalwart looked to me for confirmation. Once I gave it, he joined the others. “See to the arrangements for training our forces, while I speak with the grandmaster,” I ordered. Though Crossguard and I had already outlined a general training plan, there were many lesser details to be seen to. Stalwart nodded, stepped out, and I heard muted conversation between him and Crossguard’s two subordinates.

Crossguard himself rose and walked to a cabinet, pulling out a bottle and two fine goblets. He opened the bottle, and poured two glasses of dark red liquid; some type of brandy, judging by the smell. “Sunbeam Sparkle.” He passed one of the glasses to me, whilst contemplatively swirling his own. “You are not the first pony to speak of trouble working alongside her, and in all likelihood you will not be the last, either. Thankfully, one of the advantages of her status as one of the Order’s most generous patrons is frequent enough association with her to grasp her foibles. First, pray tell, what troubles you the most regarding Magus Sunbeam? And please, speak frankly. I would have my subordinates work in harmony, if possible.”

My answer was short and to the point. “She is an intolerable, inappropriate, and wicked mare.” I sipped at the brandy, and did not find it especially to my liking. ‘Twas pleasant enough as such things went, but I had ne’er especially cared for the taste of alcohol. Not to mention the fact that it dulled a warrior’s senses and was all too easy to become dependent upon. Lyequinegus had advised all pegasi to abstain from it. (6)

6: Having read some of Lyequinegus’ works, I can also confirm that he advised all pegasi to abstain from fun, smiling,  joy, and laughter as well. Thus, we can safely conclude that the only time he ever took that stick out of his plot was when he needed an extra weapon to beat something to death with.

Crossguard sipped at his own brandy, and seemed to enjoy it far more than I did. “So, if you will forgive me for asking, did she make inappropriate advances towards you?”

Given that such was his first notion, ‘twas likely she was somewhat infamous for such activities. I suppose I should not be surprised, given how quickly she approached me. “She did.”

“I would have been more surprised had she not done so.” Crossguard let out a low chuckle. “As you might have guessed, you are not unique in that regard. Though I must say, ‘twas rather flattering for a mare so much my junior to offer herself to me. I suspect ‘tis one of her favored methods of approaching those whose loyalty cannot be bought with money or favors.” 

I scowled disapprovingly. “She is so wanton as to bed anypony she cannot buy, then?”

Crossguard shook his head. “As with most things, Sunbeam's motives are considerably more complex than that.” He offered me an understanding smile. “We will work with her, aye, but always with a wary eye, and only so long as she advances good causes. More’s the pity that the only virtue Sunbeam truly understands is constancy. Because of that, she finds her morally driven allies to be unpredictable—she can understand greed or lust for power easily enough, and e’en loyalty, but simple altruism and decency elude her. Thus, she seeks to reduce those of her allies who hold to such ideals to something more predictable in nature.”

“So she would use lust as a leash, then.” I sipped at the brandy once more, lest I say something untoward. “I do not think that strategy is likely to work. I do not find her desirable in the slightest.”

“Aye, but ‘tis not unknown for ponies of wealth and power to lose all sense and reason ‘pon being favored by the attentions of an attractive mare.” Crossguard chuckled, glancing contemplatively down at his drink. “I confess, in my youth I had my moments of foolishness, often prompted by the belief that I might impress a comely mare. I am sure you can relate as well.” He downed the remained of his glass. “And if flirtation does not accomplish her goal, then her increasing brazenness will often serve to unbalance many of her opponents. I am sure you are aware of ponies who have trouble concentrating when matters of courtship have been brought up.”

The latter explanation rang far truer to my mind, at least as regarded Sunbeam’s actions towards me. “I cannot deny that her offers unsettle me.”

“I had surmised as much.” Crossguard poured himself a fresh drink, then added a bit more to my own glass. “If I might give you advice derived from my own experience, I would ignore her. If she truly thought to bed you, she would be far more subtle in her offers, slowly drawing you deeper into her web. She only grows indecent when her primary aim is to unsettle her foe, so do not give her that satisfaction. Sunbeam is not one to waste her efforts. If she cannot bed you, nor cause you discomfort with her effrontery, then she will cease her attempts.”

“I shall bear that advice in mind,” I dutifully responded.

“And be far less troubled for it, I imagine.” Crossguard looked to his brandy once more, then sipped at it and heaved a sigh. “Alas, the second of your objections to her is not so easily addressed. Like most who know her, you have seen the darkness within her heart.” He paused, and shook his head. “Neigh, ‘tis not as simple as that. Pure Heart and Her Majesty have likened it to an illness of the mind, one that afflicts her to the point where she cannot understand morality and decency. When I think of all that a mare of her talents could do, were it not for her affliction...” He drained his glass, then set it aside. “Be that as it may, she is not a wholly evil mare. I believe we all know what true evil looks like.”

I thought back to my own conversation with the Commander regarding her former vizier. “I will grant that she’s not called ‘pon dark magic, or committed crimes so utterly foul and unjustified that they cannot be forgiven.” E’en the death of that foal whilst in pursuit of the warlock Spellfire, while a terrible crime, did at least have a logic to it. The sacrifice of one innocent to save many. Though ‘twas a foul deed regardless, it was not an act motivated by evil or cruelty. “I would question, however, whether her refusal to reach the uttermost heights of villainy is a product of decency, rather than a belief that it gives her the easiest path to power.”

“In truth, I often fear much the same,” Crossguard confessed. “That is why she must be encouraged to do good rather than follow her base nature. This might surprise you, but she was e’en worse in the past. Barely restrained ambition can drive a pony to do many terrible things. She has always been immensely talented, but she always sought the most straightforward, often vicious means to achieve her goals. That is her base nature.”

“And yet, we must work alongside her.” I felt my grip on the glass of brandy tightening. “Would that we had the luxury of choosing our allies.”

“Alas, we do not.” Crossguard cast a contemplative look at the bottle, then sealed it and returned it to its cabinet. “Much as I enjoy a good brandy, ‘twould not do to o’erindulge. Though I confess that dealing with Sunbeam does tempt me, at times. She must be controlled, manipulated e’en, if she is to be kept from indulging her baser whims. She can be made to do good. One merely has to know how to manage such a feat.”

“I confess myself skeptical.” I thought back once more to the discussion I had with Celestia in the aftermath of Sunbeam’s dismissal. “Not e'en the Commander can fully control her.”

“In all fairness to Her Majesty, she has many other duties, and can hardly devote her every waking hour to monitoring Sunbeam's activities.” Crossguard paused, one hoof waving about searchingly. “How to put this? Sunbeam is like an officer who has very specialized skills. An idiot savant, of sorts. Only rather than a lack of intellect, she is plagued by a corrupt spirit. However, so long as her deficiencies can be managed, she can be of extreme use.”

Commander Celestia had implied something similar, though she expressed herself differently. Where Celestia spoke more of her personal desire to guide Sunbeam to a better path, Crossguard focused more on her practical use. I found his case more convincing. “So how might she be managed?”

Crossguard idly searched through the papers covering the table. “I suspect that Sunbeam's thoughts are so byzantine that even she herself does not always know how she makes her own decisions. But there is one key to managing her: the power of logic.”

After that, Crossguard fell silent for such a time that I began to wonder if he had forgotten his current train of thought. ‘Twas a common enough affliction among the elderly. “Logic?” I prompted him.

Crossguard blinked, then quickly nodded and resumed speaking. “Aye, logic. Sunbeam’s nature drives her to find the quickest and most pragmatic means of accomplishing her goals. Often this leads to her acting in an evil manner. An example ... hrm ...  I believe you were present for the duel in Cloudsdale, where Sunbeam crippled that one criminal, Variant Doo?”

“Valiant,” I gently corrected him. “And aye, I bore witness to the spectacle. By Celestia’s orders she could not slay him, so she inflicted such cruelties ‘pon him that he wished for death instead.“

“That is unfortunately like her.” Crossguard sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Though she followed Her Majesty’s words, she did not grasp the spirit of them. Likely she thought that a public show of force was the best way to cow your fellow pegasi, as well as satisfying her fellow unicorns’ desire to avenge the murder of First Glance. Given what I have heard of the sequence of events in Cloudsdale, she also likely wished to prevent Daylight Shimmer from engaging Valiant.” Crossguard gave a resigned shake of his head. “Like many of our younger knights, Daylight is eager to prove himself.”

I found my curiosity piqued by the fact that Crossguard would expect Sunbeam to go to such lengths to protect a lowly magus. “Why would she wish to prevent Daylight from engaging in a duel?”

Crossguard was some time in answering, and I could guess at the reasons for it. “Sunbeam is a patron of Daylight's career. Daylight being killed in a duel would have wasted many of her efforts, and future plans.” 

“So ‘twas done to advance her own schemes and ambitions. I am not surprised.” What Crossguard left unsaid was Daylight’s unknown parentage, though I suspect ‘twas not unknown to Sunbeam Sparkle. Likely, she had a use planned for Daylight, especially if he were noble-born. Be his patron and protector for the entirety of his career as a magus, then reveal at a critical moment that he was the sole remaining heir of some long and proud dynasty. Mayhaps she e’en plotted to wed him to Midnight, once her daughter was of age, in order to secure her own dynastic legacy. Though Sunbeam seemed to hold the nobles of Unicornia in contempt, I did not doubt for a second that she would exploit their system to advance her own ambitions.

Crossguard refrained from commenting on my less charitable summary of Sunbeam’s motives. “In any event, the duel in Cloudsdale is an example of what she will do if left to her own devices. What ponies of good character need to do is convince her to take another road, that her actions are folly and illogical. She is not a stupid mare by any stretch, but there are areas where she is all but blind to how ponies think. If another can properly explain what she fails to grasp, she will consider it.”

“How is that to be done, then?” I frowned, recalling my own conversations with Sunbeam. “She does not seem to welcome any questioning of her own righteousness.”

Crossguard directed a knowing look at me. “I suspect, milady, that your prior conversations with her consisted more of condemnations of her actions. Arguing morality with her is rarely fruitful. Instead, use logic against her. She prides herself on being a rational creature, and far more clear-sighted than the average pony. When she is about to do evil, convince her that a more moral course is also the more practical one.” He paused, applying his axiom to the prior example. “In the case of Valiant, if you had warned her that the pegasi were more likely to be angered than cowed, or that Her Majesty would not be amused by her violating the spirit of a promise while adhering to the letter of it, she would have reconsidered her actions. Especially had she been forewarned that Her Majesty’s displeasure would reduce her own power and influence.”

“I see.” Crossguard’s reasoning was persuasive. I could not appeal to the decency of a mare who had none, but I firmly believed that the best course of action was also the moral one. All that I would need to do is persuade Sunbeam of that. “I assume you have used this strategy successfully in the past?”

“The existence of ‘Sunbeam Sparkle's Sacrosanct Sanctum for Sharing and Selfless Sacrifices’ (7) is rather firm evidence of my past successes.” A faint smirk played across Crossguard’s lips. “Between the popularity it won her with the common pony and the fact that having her name on all the buildings pleased her ego, ‘twas not hard to persuade her to donate the needed funds. And Pure Heart’s hospitallers have aided hundreds of ponies that would have been beyond aid absent Sunbeam’s donations. Mayhaps it helps advance the ambitions of a questionable mare, but lives are being saved.”

7: As an interesting note, Sunbeam Sparkle's Sacrosanct Sanctum for Sharing and Selfless Sacrifices is still in operation. One or two ponies have suggested taking Sunbeam’s name off of it, but the fact that the Sparkle family makes sizable annual donations to the fund probably ensures that the Order of Sol Invictus will never seriously consider changing it.

“I imagine the pony whose wounds are healed by the hospital’s staff cares little about the character of the mare paying to see it done,” I conceded. For all that I held my own morals near to my heart, I was not blind to the practical needs that drove many ponies. Were my own daughter stricken and near death, I would prefer that Sunbeam save her life rather see Gale perish. Though I do not believe that all morals are things to be discarded when ‘twas inconvenient, there are some lesser points of morality that compare poorly to the value of a pony’s life. Though theft be a crime, I would not harshly condemn one who stole a loaf of bread to feed his starving children.

“That has been my observation as well,” Crossguard agreed. “That matter aside, Sunbeam’s gentling has been a gradual and ongoing process. Her Majesty, myself, and her daughter have all tempered the darkness within her. Her daughter, perhaps, more than any of us.”

Crossguard paused, his eyes growing distant for a few moments. “Once, years ago, her political opponents stole Midnight in the hopes of using her as leverage ‘gainst her mother. Ne’er before have I seen Sunbeam so enraged, and the retribution she wrought ‘pon them was terrible indeed. Surely you have noticed how she rarely lets her child leave her side, e’en when she is about the business of the realm. ‘Tis a habit she acquired after that incident.”

“I see.” I was reminded of Gale’s own half-formed plans to abscond with young Midnight in the hopes of gaining leverage ‘gainst her mother, and was very glad that I had rejected it.

“Though I am somewhat loathe to suggest it, her daughter can be used to provoke her better nature.” Crossguard settled into his chair, groaning at some old pain. “For all her Majesty’s efforts, and my own, the greatest single force for good in her life remains young Midnight. I think that, as much as a mare with her affliction is capable of it, she loves her daughter.”

He held my gaze for a time, then concluded the conversation. “Sunbeam Sparkle is an unpleasant pony, but we have found ways to make use of her. She has done much good for Equestria, and my only regret is that her illness prevents her from doing more. I think we can both agree that our service to the crown and to Equestria is more important than our personal desires. Thus, you must find a way to work with Magus Sunbeam. We cannot afford conflict within our army. Sunbeam is one of our most capable war magi, while you command the loyal pegasi. You do not have the luxury of putting your personal antipathy above Equestria’s needs.” He paused, and his tone turned conciliatory. “I will have words with Sunbeam on this matter too; ‘Twas not my intention to make this seem a condemnation of you for failing to work alongside her.”

“Noted, Grandmaster.” I respectfully bowed my head to him. “My thanks for your advice in this matter.” Though rankings ‘tween unicorn and pegasus were e’er a matter of contention, I felt secure in saying that Crossguard had earned my respect, and I would not hesitate to follow his orders in the field.

“Of course.” He chuckled, and returned my nod. “I believe if I were a pegasus, I would be one of your geronts, yes? That being the case, 'tis my duty to impress my wisdom ‘pon my youngers.”

That earned a soft chuckle from me. “Thus far, I would say you are filling the role quite adequately. In truth, moreso than many of the geronts I have known. My f—” I quickly caught myself, ere I misspoke. “Cyclone once told me that the geronts spend far more time regaling each other with old war stories than they do imparting wisdom.”

Thankfully, Crossguard did not comment ‘pon my near lapse, and continued speaking of his own experiences. “I have heard that many of the young initiates have taken to calling me ‘Grandfather Crossguard.’ Bah, I say to that. I am not so old as to be a grandfather, I am merely seasoned. And like a fine wine, I am all the better for aging.”

I struggled to suppress a snort of laughter at his stubborn insistence. My own limited experience with the gerousia indicated that all its members were similarly certain that age had little effect ‘pon them, save those few who were so aged that they could no longer deny the truth, e’en to themselves. “Of that, I have no doubt. Regardless, you wisdom is appreciated.”

“Think nothing of it, milady Shadow.” Crossguard rose from his seat. “I fear that dark days lie before us, and we will need each other’s support to survive them. And I need my second-in-command to be at her best to help me make our army ready for war.”

“I will not disappoint you, Grandmaster,” I assured him as I rose as well. “I take it our business is concluded then?”

“It is, and I never thought that you would fail to exceed my expectations,” He answered smoothly. “Unlike some parties best left unmentioned, I have absolute confidence in your ability, and am certain that you will be a valuable asset to the war effort.” He stepped forward, and politely held the door for me. “Fare you well until next we meet, Shadow. May the sun bless your path.”