//------------------------------// // 03. Dashed Expectations // Story: Alicorn // by Aldea Donder //------------------------------// ALICORN by Aldea Donder My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is property of Hasbro, Inc. Please rate and review. CHAPTER THREE Dashed Expectations Originally Published 9/29/2011 All her life, Rainbow had looked out her window and seen the lonely mountain. Atlas Rise, the Crown of Equestria, the Seat of the Sun; names, it had in abundance, but none that did justice to the sheer size of this natural wonder, this colossal rib of the world. As the chariot soared over the land, it loomed ever larger, dominating the eastern sky. How ancient was it? Nopony could say. Not even Princess Celestia, as timeless as she was, could remember an age when the mountain hadn’t been there. Forests were seeded, grew, and perished under her reign. Rivers ran dry and new ones gurgled forth to take their place. But the mountain was forever. It was a monument to prominence and permanence. Qualities the kingdom venerated, which was probably why they put the capital city here. Moreover, it was a monument to patience. Born in time immemorial, eons before the first pony set hoof upon the earth, from the slow seep of magma bubbling up over untold millions of years. All to create the misty blue peak that stood before Rainbow now, challenging every notion she had of big and small, old and young. She was so busy staring at it, the sudden arrival of the Royal Guard took her totally by surprise. “Hey, what gives?” she shouted, lifting herself over the side of the chariot to get a better look. They fanned out around her in formation. Pegasi on the left and right of her forming a flying ‘V,’ pegasi above, pegasi below, and one pegasus out front who she definitely remembered—Captain Tristar, as surly-looking as ever, decked in his brilliant golden armor as he flew at the point position. Rainbow’s eyes drew narrow to see him here, but she could set aside a bad first impression in search of answers. Nonchalantly, she ditched her ride, pumped her wings, and flew up to meet him. “What’s going on?” she asked. “GET. BACK. IN. THAT. CHARIOT.” He didn’t have to ask twice. The sheer strength and power of his voice blew her head-over-hooves back into the cart. Tank gave her a sympathetic look as she rubbed her head. “Sheesh. What a loudmouth.” Rainbow Dash wasn’t a dummy. Something had these pegasi spooked. She could tell from the way they held their wings—a little too stiff for comfortable flying, even for the no-frills Royal Guard. And gee-whiz, how many of them were there? Twenty? Thirty? A teensy bit overkill for the half-hour trip up to the capital. Twilight never mentioned being accompanied by this many pegasus guards whenever she made the journey to Canterlot by air. “All right, what the hay’s going on?” Rainbow asked the drivers. “Don’t worry, Miss. We’ll get you to Canterlot safe and sound,” said the one on the left. “As long as you don’t go jumping ship again,” grumbled the other. “Sit back and relax. We’ll make sure no harm comes to you.” “Make sure no harm comes to me? Why would I need you to—” Before she could finish her sentence, they rounded the mountain, and great Canterlot Castle came into view. Canterlot, with its quartz spires and its golden domes; its statues of copper, white marble, and gold-plated bronze; its majestic, sparkling waterfalls crashing down from on high, pooling in basins the size of lakes before spilling over the lip, cascading down to the countryside far below. Canterlot, heart of the nation, jewel of the world, sparkling white from its perch on the mountainside. They flew past it and kept right on going. “Hey, what gives? Where are you taking me?” The drivers dipped a wing, putting them on a path directly toward a rocky crag on the side of the cliff. Their escorts mirrored their movements, falling into an even tighter formation. Seconds later, the chariot clattered to a halt on a wide ledge, and a dozen or more pegasi set down all around them. The remainder stayed aloft, darkening the bluff with their great, winged shadows. “Princess Aurora,” an oily voice breathed down Rainbow’s neck. It was Tristar, of course. The burly stallion loomed over the side of the cart, his violet eyes smoldering through the gaps in his helmet. Rainbow wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated. She leered right back at him, her feathers bristled and choler on full display. “We’ve arrived without incident,” he said, “no thanks to your little… in-flight detour. In the future, I would appreciate you not giving away my troops’ position with a sonic rainboom under any circumstances. Especially not when we’re exposed in the middle of a clandestine movement.” “I’ll take it under advisement,” Rainbow growled back. He jerked his head to beckon her off the chariot. “We’re sitting ducks here. I need to get you off this cliff and safe behind castle walls. Quit wasting time, now. Daylight’s burning.” “What castle?! This isn’t Canterlot. Where are we?” “For your own safety, I advise you to comply.” Rainbow’s wings twitched. She gave a defiant scrape of her hoof. “First, how about you tell me what the hay’s going on!” “Are you going to cooperate, or not?” Tristar demanded. Rainbow only glared at him. When she was slow to answer, he gave another motion of his head to signal the guards. They were all over her before she could react. A pair of them swept in from behind and seized her by the arms, while the rest of them circled around and raised up their wings like a Roman shield wall. Then they advanced, bearing a sputtering Rainbow Dash at the center. “LET GO!” she yelled, kicking and biting. Off to one side, a lone unicorn guard bowed his head in concentration. His horn lit up, and with a rumbling snarl, a stone outcropping slid aside, revealing the gaping black maw of a cavern. They dragged her in, and she fought them all the way. Again, the unicorn’s horn shimmered, and the secret door groaned and rolled shut, shrouding them all in the subterranean dark. “Lights,” spoke Tristar, and instantly, a line of torches blazed with magic fire, casting weird, flickering shadows up and down the fathomless length of a rock-hewn, underground corridor. Rainbow saw her opportunity. The confines were narrow, too cramped for the pegasi on either side to maneuver. She twisted free of one, bucked the other, and made a break for it, hooves clapping against the stone. She didn’t make it far before Tristar stepped out in front of her. “Get outta my way,” Rainbow ordered, although she didn’t feel half as brave as she sounded. Tristar didn’t even bother to hide his sneer. It slithered across his face, plain as day. “Enough of this.” He took a step forward… “Rainbow Dash?” Both of them froze. That voice didn’t belong to any guard. It came from Princess Luna. The alicorn stood in the dim hall just beyond them, starry mane rippling at her back. She surveyed the scene before her with patent concern. “What’s the meaning of this, Captain Tristar?” “Protecting my charge as ordered, Princess,” Tristar said, quickly turning and falling into a bow. The rest of the guards did the same. Rainbow just stood there, frozen in place, though her heart was still jackhammering away in her chest at a million miles an hour. Luna took stock of Rainbow. Her feathers disheveled, her body shaking, her mane tousled and matted with sweat. “Was it necessary to assault her in order to protect her?” “Nothing of the sort, Your Majesty. We experienced an… unexpected sonic rainboom in transit. Our position was compromised, and we were vulnerable on the mountainside. Under the circumstances, operational security required me to make a quick extraction.” Luna nodded. “Very well. Thank you for your assistance, Captain. I’ll take it from here.” Rainbow’s expression dripped with open disgust as she threw off the pegasi on either side of her. They quickly backed away, which just so happened to give her a clear line of sight on a third guard standing back and to the left of her, his hooves wrapped around a struggling green tortoise. “TANK!” She lunged and ripped the reptile out of his grasp. Tank’s face eased into a wrinkled look of gratitude at being rescued, but Rainbow’s knew only explosive, volcanic rage. “Oh, and Captain?” Luna said. “I’m sure Princess Celestia will expect a full report on this incident.” Tristar tensed. “Yes, Your Majesty.” Just like that, the confrontation was over and done with. Luna motioned for Rainbow to follow her, and Rainbow happily obliged. Tristar shot her a glare as she stormed past him. She returned it in spades. Luna set Tank on her back, and the three of them started down the corridor. Soon enough, they headed down a side passage, and the captain and his retinue disappeared from sight. “Some welcoming committee you’ve got here!” Rainbow snapped as soon as they were out of earshot. Luna grimaced. “I’m sorry. Captain Tristar’s methods can be rather drastic, but a more loyal soldier, you aren’t likely to find. I didn’t mean for this to be your experience coming here.” “Pretty sure I know what loyalty looks like, and that ain’t it! Where the heck are we, anyway? I thought we were going to the castle!” “This is the way to the castle. Rather, it’s a way. A back entrance, of sorts.” They turned left down another offshoot tunnel. Luna had to duck to avoid scraping her head on the low doorway, if the hollow egress in the rock could even be called such a thing. She explained, “Under the circumstances, I had the idea to avoid the main approach, to hold rumors at bay and keep your horn a secret from the press for as long as possible. At the very least, until Celestia and I have a chance to confer and decide on a strategy. The revelation of your existence is something that has to be handled delicately. A mysterious new alicorn being paraded through the main gates would create quite a spectacle.” Rainbow clenched her teeth at the mention of Celestia. Her wings puffed out like an angry bird. “Oh, so letting people know that I exist is Celestia’s business now? Don’t I get a say in anything?” Luna stopped. She turned to look at Rainbow, gently laying a hoof upon the irate filly’s shoulder. Even in the flickering torchlight, the sadness and regret on her face were apparent. “Of course you do,” she said honestly. “I’m sorry. That was a thoughtless thing for me to say.” Rainbow scowled, but allowed the enmity to roll off her. “Look, I know your heart’s in the right place, but I’m still me, okay? I’m not some soft princess who needs to be protected. And I definitely didn’t come here to have Celestia control my freaking life.” “Controlling your life is the last thing I want to do, and the same goes for my sister,” said Luna. Her somber eyes didn’t leave Rainbow’s. “But you do need to be protected. At least for now, in these early days. The situation is so very, very precarious. And there are so many unknown factors in how others will respond to you—the press, the populace, the nobility. I don’t want something to happen that could cause you to get hurt.” “I know how to defend myself,” Rainbow said curtly. Luna shook her head. “I don’t just mean the physical kind of hurt.” Rainbow frowned and looked away. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I don’t want you to suffer, as I have suffered. Please, Rainbow. Will you let me help you?” There was an earnest compassion in Luna’s voice, and a weariness, a pain in her eyes that reached down to Rainbow’s sensibilities. With a sigh, she relented and nodded glumly. “All right, fine. You win. For now.” Luna hugged her, and Rainbow was distracted once more by just how totally bucking bizarre her life had become. “Thank you,” the lunar alicorn spoke past her ear. Then they resumed their trek through the passageways. As they continued on their way, Rainbow spared a concerned glance for the tortoise perched on Luna’s bank. “You okay over there, buddy?” Tank nodded lazily, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Right turn here,” Luna said. They went down another cramped corridor, kicking up centuries-old dust and grime. The ceiling dipped low, and this time, Rainbow had to duck her head to squeeze under it as well. “Sheesh, this place is creepy. It’s like Nightmare Night year-round in here.” Luna visibly tensed. It was fleeting, but Rainbow noticed it. “The Warrens,” she spoke after a brief hesitation. “Most of these tunnels were dug out over a thousand years ago. They haven’t been used in almost as long. Not since the war.” “We’re using them right now, aren’t we?” Luna made a face. “I’m sorry. I should have said they haven’t been lived in in over a thousand years.” Rainbow recoiled. She hadn’t seen a lot of it, but this wasn’t someplace she would volunteer to spend any amount of time. It was essentially a labyrinth of tunnels carved right out of the stone guts of the mountain. Every now and then, they would walk past a cobweb-covered alcove, or a crude doorway that led to a room barely high enough to stand up in, or a new passage altogether that shot off into the cold, black unknown. And always, Luna led them deeper, twisting and turning their way further into the depths. “Ponies just lived here… temporarily, right?” Rainbow asked. The thought of anypony living here, cut off from the sun and sky, was repulsive to her. “Some did. Others never left. Those who didn’t are still buried here, within these walls,” Luna replied nonchalantly. As if she were talking about the freaking weather or something. A shiver went down Rainbow’s spine. She walked a little closer to Tank and the princess of the moon. But now they arrived at their destination. The corridor ended abruptly at a sheer stone wall, devoid of any features save for a single carved glyph of the sun. Luna put her horn to it, and Rainbow heard the distinctive click-click-click of a locking mechanism. The wall swung open on a hinge. They walked through, and on the other side— On the other side was—was— Rainbow stopped dead. Her pupils shrank. Her heart started to fly again in her chest. Her eyes traced the contours of the circular room. The window. The fireplace. The door. Luna was looking at her strangely. “Is everything all right?” Rainbow started to answer. Her voice died in her throat. After several moments of worried silence, Luna spoke up again. “Celestia’s private study,” she said, in answer to a question that hadn’t been asked. “Erm… If it’s the lack of furniture that has you so aghast, please, don’t think anything of it. We’re… remodeling.” She winced and tried not to glance at a particular mirror on the wall, which had been hastily covered with a sheet; behind it, cracks in the glass spiderwebbed out from several violent points of impact. Aside from the elegant marble hearth and the bookshelves that lined the walls, the only other thing of note was a large mahogany desk, which dominated the center of the room. Rainbow swallowed hard. “It’s, um… It’s okay. I’m cool,” she said. Her voice wobbled. Luna sealed the secret passage that led back into the Warrens, which from this side was camouflaged as yet another bookcase. Then she strolled across the office, over to the door. She placed her hoof upon the ornate golden handle. The door opened to reveal a stately hall. Pearl-colored walls rose to meet a tall, arched ceiling. Tapestries and decorative urns stood formally throughout, while a procession of windows and soft-glowing chandeliers bathed the whole place in light. “Would you and Tank like to see the castle? I know you were here briefly for the Gala, but I’d be happy to give you the grand tour.” Rainbow trotted over and joined Luna at the portal. She paid the study one last, long, reminiscent look. “S-Sure.” Canterlot Castle was every bit as opulent as she remembered. More opulent, if it was possible, for this time, she was treated to a glimpse behind the curtain. Beyond the public-facing spaces. To the private chambers enjoyed by the royal sisters themselves. Luna was only too happy to be her guide, ushering her from one grandiose room to the next, expositing a laundry list of facts and trivia about the palace as they went along. In spite of the day’s earlier stresses, Rainbow couldn’t help but be amused. It was comfortable. Familiar. In some ways, it was kind of like being with Twilight. When Luna casually remarked that the castle featured no fewer than eleven conservatories and sixteen ballrooms, an all too obvious question popped into Rainbow’s brain. “How many bathrooms does it have?” Luna blinked. “I don’t think anypony’s ever asked me that before.” “Come on! You’ve gotta know how many bathrooms! What do you tell all the colts and fillies when they come asking on school tours?” “To be fair, it’s been less than a year since I was set free from the moon, and the very concept of bathrooms is still rather stupendous to me. The real magic isn’t friendship. It’s indoor plumbing.” Rainbow cracked a grin. They continued on their way. After Rainbow had feasted her eyes on enough extravagance to fill fifty lifetimes, the three of them drew to a stop in front of an intricately carved wooden door. “This room,” Luna said, “is to be your bedroom.” They went inside. The four-poster canopy bed was the first thing Rainbow saw. She frowned. It wasn’t exactly cozy-looking; rather than a pony of her dimensions, it seemed sized to fit about five Celestias. The silken purple bedclothes weren’t exactly her style, either. They were too fancy, too frilly, and much more suited to a pony of Rarity’s tastes than her own. The bedroom did have one thing going for it: a massive balcony that looked out over the whole of the city. Warm sunlight kissed Rainbow’s face as she took her stock of the view, and a pleasant breeze came up and tousled her mane. She closed her eyes and leaned into it, breathing in the air and the prism of colorful smells that wafted on it—sweet red roses, fresh-cut green grass, and the faintest hint of blue mountain mist. “Hey, you wanna go flying?” Rainbow asked. “It’s an awesome day, and the air currents are perfect for—” “Someday, when this situation is behind us, I would love to go flying with you. I’ve heard so many fantastic stories about your talents, I would relish the chance to see them with my own eyes,” Luna interrupted. “But Rainbow Dash, listen to me, this is important. You mustn’t leave the castle, and you mustn’t go flying. Not for any reason.” “Huh?” Luna’s features pulled down in an unhappy frown. She lifted Tank off of her back and set him down gently on the bed, then trotted over to join Rainbow at the balcony. “I wish it weren’t so, but tearing up the skies over Canterlot would provoke even more of a spectacle than parading you through the main gates. There would be no keeping it from the press, and no way of controlling what the press sends to print about you. On top of that, there’s also the matter of your personal safety to think about.” The alicorn gazed down on the white-and-purple edifices of the city below them, so small and faraway from here atop the castle. The indistinct bustle of the metropolis filtered up to them on the wind’s breath, carrying with it the muffled ambiance of clattering wagons, the sweet sound of music, softly playing, and the murmur of distant crowds. “Inside of these walls and upon these grounds, the castle’s magic will protect you,” Luna spoke quietly. “It’s an ancient enchantment laid upon this place from the time of its founding. Lower Canterlot has no such safeguards. Venturing out without guard at a moment like this would be foolhardy.” Rainbow side-eyed her shrewdly. “This is about the super-secret stuff that’s going on that you won’t clue me in about. The reason why your stupid sister is in Griffi’la.” Luna gave a weak smile. “I know flying is something that’s near and dear to you. It pains me to ask you to refrain from it, but please, Rainbow. Keep your hooves on the ground, at least for now. I realize it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you—and it easily could. Please, Rainbow Dash.” Rainbow was about to voice her loud objections to this, when suddenly, a little yellow unicorn burst into the room behind them, yipping, “PRINCESS LUNA! PRINCESS LUNA!” Luna turned to look at her curiously. “What is it, Domo?” “Lord Brilliant… is demanding… an audience,” the little unicorn managed to choke out amid her breathless panting. “Something about… property rights. For his son in Manehattan. He stormed in… blustering about… how he thought Princess Celestia was a pony of her word…” “Oh no,” Luna groaned. “Has he been waiting long?” “Ten minutes.” Luna gave Rainbow an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. I’ve got a little… court… thingy… to take care of. Erm… Domo, this is Princess Aurora. I’m sure you attended the briefing of the top-level palace staff yesterday, but she is Princess Celestia’s daughter. Could you please attend to her while I speak with Lord Brilliant? Make her as comfortable as possible, and…” She pulled a face. “…and see to it that she gets cleaned up.” “Gets cleaned up?” Rainbow repeated sharply. She scowled and looked herself over. Unfortunately, she was forced to admit that Luna might have a point. Thanks to her scuffle with the guards and her trip through the filth and grime of the Warrens, her appearance, such as it was, was even more unkempt than usual. Luna hid a grimace behind her hoof. “I’m sorry. Don’t take it the wrong way, but it just isn’t a good idea for you to go around looking like that. It could cater to… certain preconceptions.” Rainbow shot her a glare. Meanwhile, Domo’s eyes flew wide. “P-Princess Aurora? Princess Celestia’s daughter? I—I mean—Yes, Your Majesty!” Luna nodded. “Good. If you’ll both excuse me.” With a parting look of remorse, the lunar princess withdrew to discharge her duties, leaving Rainbow alone in the company of a sputtering Domo. But not for long. “I—I—I’ll be right back!” Domo said, tearing out of the bedroom. Rainbow stared after her. “What the hay.” Dumbfounded, she wandered over to the enormous bed and flopped down on it, noticing immediately that for all its exquisite dressings and craftsmanship, it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as her own cloud bed back in Ponyville. Tank snuggled up next to her, and she patted his shell affectionately. “A month and a half,” she mumbled. “Only for a month and a half. Only until after the Summer Sun Celebration. That’s all. A month and a half. Nooooo flying for a month and a half.” She stared bleakly up at the ceiling. “I’m gonna go stir crazy.” ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ Domo returned a half hour later. The bedroom door was still open, so she stuck in her head to announce herself. “Princess Aurora?” “Mmmfff… Rainbow Dash… Call mmmfff… Rainbow Dash.” The unicorn took a few hesitant steps into the room, a pair of handmaidens following close at her hooves. “Your Highness?” Rainbow didn’t so much as twitch. She teetered on the brink of sleep, all the tension in her wings and body melting into the softness of the bed. Domo came closer still. “Your Highness?” There was that annoying voice again. Why wouldn’t it leave her alone? “Goway,” she groaned. “Er… Did you say something, Princess?” Rainbow pulled a pillow over her head. “Gowayanlemmesleep.” “Could you repeat that a little more loudly, Your Highness?” “Leavemealone!” “I’m—I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I still didn’t quite understand.” Rainbow’s eyes shot open. She snapped up in bed, flinging aside the pillow and eyeing Domo crossly. “What?!” “Oh! Princess Aurora! You’re awake! For a moment, I was afraid you might have been sleeping!” Rainbow facehoofed. She could feel her temper start to smoke. The unicorn dropped into a bow. “I’m Domo, chief steward to Her Majesty Princess Celestia’s royal house. Please forgive me if I seem a bit… flustered. We weren’t notified of your impending arrival until last night. Actually, the truth is, I didn’t even know Princess Celestia had a daughter—” Rainbow snorted. “Big surprise there.” “—but now that you’re here, you can be rest assured we’ll do everything we can to make you as comfortable as possible!” “ ‘Rest assured,’ huh? Good! Then you can shut up and lemme get some rest. I’m tired and I want to catch some z’s, all right?” Domo’s smile faltered. “Oh… Yes, Your Highness.” Rainbow shut her eyes and eased back onto the cushion. It was barely past noon, but she was exhausted, darn it, and her mind and body were dead set on a little siesta. One of her patented Rainbow-Dash-Extra-Strength-Power-Naps was sure to do the trick. Yes siree, getting woken up by that stupid unicorn sure had been annoying, but sweet, blissful sleep was still right there, just over the next horizon. She felt herself drifting off, lulled by the warm breeze coming in from the balcony, the steady inhale and exhale of her own lungs… Cough. Cough. …the sound of somepony coughing… Wait. What? She snapped awake again. Domo and her cohorts were still there! Rainbow threw her hooves in the air. “What do you want?!” “To make you as comfortable as possible, Your Highness!” said Domo. “How am I supposed to sleep with you watching me?! Do you have any idea how creepy that is?!” “Oh. Would you prefer it if we didn’t watch you?” “Yes!” “As you wish, Princess!” Domo signaled the handmaidens on her left and right. Then all three of them spun around to face the wall, leaving a flabbergasted Rainbow Dash to stare at their backsides. Her eye twitched. “Are. You. Serious.” “Are you done sleeping yet, Your Highness?” “Yes,” Rainbow growled. “In that case, may we turn around again?” Rainbow scowled and rolled out of bed. So much for that power nap. “Yeah. Sure. Knock yourselves out.” Domo took one look at Rainbow and gasped. “Oh, dear! I pray I’m within my bounds to say so, Princess Aurora, but you look dreadful! Your feathers are such a mess, it’s unsightly! And your mane! Why, it’s simply uncouth! You must permit us to assist you!” “The name’s Rainbow Dash. And what’s the matter with my mane?” she asked, running a self-conscious hoof through her forelock. “Please allow us the privilege of running you a bath!” “I ain’t takin’ no stinkin’ bath!” “But you must, Your Highness! Princess Luna personally requested it!” Rainbow sighed. There was no winning this. “Fine. Run the stupid bath, then,” she grumbled. No sooner had the words left her mouth than Domo and her attendants took hold of her. She squawked in indignation, but her protests went unheard as they whisked her into an adjoining bathroom. The handmaidens—a pair of gray-colored unicorns—bore her into a raised basin, which might just as easily have passed for a swimming pool as a bath tub. Their horns shimmered, and water started pouring in from silver faucets on all four sides. Rainbow’s eyes widened. “Wh-What are you doing?!” “Making everything as comfortable for you as possible, Your Highness!” said Domo. She struck a match and lit a stick of incense, perfuming the air with the rich, earthy fragrance of amber. Rainbow stared up at the handmaidens in horror. “This is not comfortable!” “It’s not?” Domo dipped a hoof into the water. Her expression soured. “Oh, can’t the two of you do anything right? This is far too cold!” she chided the grays. “Forgive me, Princess. I’ll warm it up for you.” The bathwater, which had already risen past Rainbow’s haunches, went a full thirty degrees hotter in the span of a millisecond. Rainbow yelped and shot up into the air. Domo tilted her head back in surprise. “Your Highness?” “I’M NOT COMING DOWN!” Rainbow shouted, swinging wildly from the chandelier. “I CAN TAKE A BATH BY MYSELF, THANKYOUVERYMUCH!” “But Your Highness, I must insist!” said Domo. Her horn glowed. The chandelier went slippery, as if the whole thing were suddenly made out of grease. Rainbow flailed without any purchase, and the next thing she knew, she was falling down, down— SPLASH! —straight back into the bath. She jolted back to the surface, gasping and sputtering. She could barely see through her bangs, dripping wet and hanging low over her eyes. She couldn’t fly away, either. Not with these waterlogged wings. And before she could even think about making a last-ditch wade toward freedom, she felt a pair of hooves grab her and hold her down, while another dumped a cold, sickly-smelling shampoo over her head. “There, Princess Aurora! That’s not so bad, is it?” said Domo as the servants lathered the icky stuff into her mane. “Rainbow Dash,” she gurgled into the water. “Call me Rainbow Dash.” The next thirty minutes were an exercise in humiliation for Rainbow as she was spritzed, scrubbed, moisturized, bristle-brushed, and loofahed half to death. Eventually, her bath time torture drew to a close, and she emerged from the tub feeling violated, clinging to the tattered remains of her dignity. Then came the towels! Horrible, levitating towels that chased her from one end of the bedroom to the other! It was a miracle Tank didn’t wake up from his snore-fest as she ran around screaming her bucking head off. At one point, she actually threw Luna’s cautionary warning to the wind and made a break for the balcony, but the towels cornered her before she could get there and proceeded to smother the resistance out of her. Stupid towels. Just when she thought it was over, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. One of the grays, advancing toward her with a bottle of… mysterious green liquid! Oh, Celestia, NO! “WHAT ARE YOU DOING.” Domo suddenly appeared beside Rainbow and made her jump fifteen feet in the air. “Now that you are clean, we shall anoint you with ointments, lotions, and perfumes!” “NO OINTMENTS. NO PERFUMES.” Domo blinked. “What about the lotions?” “NONE OF THOSE EITHER.” “Oh…” Domo rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Well, in that case, I guess we can move on to the next step. We shall prepare an elegant wardrobe for you and dress you in—” “I DON’T WEAR CLOTHES.” “But that doesn’t mean you can’t start wearing clothes! We have all the finest stylings from the Canterlot fashion scene! Including a brand-new line from Hoity Toity, based on the designs of an up-and-coming fashionista he discovered out in Ponyville, of all places—” Rainbow facehoofed again. Damn you, Rarity! “But I suppose the wardrobe can wait a little while. After all, we still need to do your hair!” “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Domo and her minions took a step back. “P-Princess Aurora?” Rainbow quaked with rage. Go to your happy place, Dash. Count the clouds. One cumulus, two cumulus, three cumulus, four… “Look, I’m not interested in baths, or clothes, or hairstyles, or—LOTIONS,” she roared at one of the handmaidens, who was still trying to sneak up behind her with the bottle. “All I want is some FOOD. I haven’t eaten in forever! Do you think you can at least do THAT for me?” If Domo took notice of the sarcasm in Rainbow’s tone, she didn’t let it show. “Of course, Princess Aurora! The castle kitchens are always open! Allow us to be your escort!” “My name is Rainbow Dash!” But they hurried out the door and paid no attention. Domo poked her head back in. “Coming?” Rainbow had half a mind to slam the door in her face, but a rumbling in her stomach convinced her otherwise. She followed Domo down the hall, the grays trailing dutifully behind. At length, they arrived at the dining hall. It was no less grandiose than what Rainbow had come to expect. A checkered marble floor glistened in the light of so many candelabras. The table stretched forty feet down the center of the room, with seating enough for twenty on either side—not including the two massive chairs at the fore, which bore the emblems of the sun and moon. Rainbow very coolly, very casually sat down in the seat nearest to her, which just so happened to be the big one with the carving of the sun on it. Domo and the handmaidens let out a shrill gasp. “What’s wrong?” Rainbow asked. “That’s—That’s—Princess Celestia’s chair!” “Yeah? So?” They looked nervously to the windows, where stained glass representations of ponies throughout history leered down at them with fierce, judgmental eyes. One image in particular had them all riveted: a colorful little scene recalling the lunar exile of Nightmare Moon. Boy, oh boy, did Celestia ever looked pissed off in that one! Domo turned several shades paler. Her eyes darted about the room, as if an unseen spy might be skulking in the shadows. “Nopony has ever sat in Princess Celestia’s chair before.” “Who cares? It’s not like she’s here right now, is she?” Domo’s lip quivered. “But… But…” “But nothing! Jeeze, are you always this high-strung? Just sit down and shut up already.” “Sit down? But Your Highness, it would be highly inappropriate for me to sit at the same table as—” “Look, I can’t eat with you guys lurking there over my shoulder. Gives me the heebie-jeebies worse than Rarity before a race. So sit down.” She shot a glare at the gray pair of attendants. “You too.” The servants reluctantly took seats at the table. Shortly thereafter, they were joined by a chef, who strolled in through a swinging door. The second his eyes fell on the odd foursome, he almost tripped over his own hooves. “She eez een zee chair!” Domo shrugged helplessly. The chef’s mouth flapped open and shut. His dainty Prench mustache stood on end. “Very well!” he finally said. “On your ’eads be eet! What will you ’ave to eat zees afternoon?” Everypony looked at Rainbow. “What? Isn’t anypony else hungry? How come I’ve gotta be first to order?” she complained. “Oh, fine. I guess I’ll have… uh… a daisyburger and hayfries.” “A daizyburgeh and ’ayfries.” The chef’s lip curled. “ ’Ow very… rustic. But per’aps zee madame would care to try some of zee kitchen’s more cultured deeshes?” “Nah, a daisyburger and hayfries will be fine.” His face contorted, then rapidly flew between a number of expressions, none of which could be described as serene. “Oui, oui, madame. I will return shortly with your… food.” With a snort, he spun and walked out, the door swishing shut behind him. Rainbow paid no attention. She stretched out luxuriously on the regal chair, looking satisfied and content for the first time since… well, since the bath from hell, at least. “So—” “Your Highness, I just want to say what a privilege it is to sit at the same table as you,” said Domo. “I think I speak for everypony here. We’re honored that you would allow us this honor.” The other two servants nodded vigorously. Rainbow grinned. “Yeah? So you guys are fans of mine, huh? That’s cool. Did you see me at the Best Young Flyer Competition or something? I really killed it there a few months ago.” “Um. No. Not exactly.” “Oh.” Rainbow frowned. She shrugged and leaned back, folding her hooves behind her head as she kicked her legs up on the table. “Well, that’s okay. Tell me more about how awesome I am.” Domo threw her hooves up in the air for dramatic effect. “You are Princess Celestia’s daughter!” Rainbow’s good mood disintegrated before another tidal wave of anger, to have to be reminded of that awful fact. “…So what?” she snapped. The unicorn’s smile flickered, and she stared back like a deer caught in the headlights. “The same blood that runs in Princess Celestia’s veins… also runs in yours!” she tried again. “So wait, let me get this straight. The only reason you have any respect for me is because I happen to be—to be—” She seethed. “—related to Celestia.” “I… Well, no, Your Highness! You are also related to Princess Luna!” Rainbow rubbed her temples. Why did it all have to be so bitter? “Look. Enough about me. Let’s talk about you,” she changed the subject. “I don’t know the first thing about you.” Domo flushed. “Me, Your Highness? I’m honored that you would—” “No. Not you. Anypony but you. I’ve listened to you just about as much as I can bear.” Rainbow looked over at one of the handmaidens. “You, there. Tell me about yourself.” “Oh, they don’t talk, Your Highness,” Domo laughed. Rainbow ignored her. “C’mon. What’s your name?” The eyes on the young, gray unicorn grew wide as soon as she was singled out. Terrified, she looked back and forth between Rainbow Dash and Domo, as if searching for a cue on what to say. “L-L-Lady’s Maid, Your Highness,” she finally squeaked in a voice so timid, she might have given Fluttershy a run for her money. “What are your hobbies?” “H-Hobbies?” “You know, things you like to do in your free time?” “In my free time, I like… uh…” She stopped mid-sentence at the sight of Domo, who was waving her arms frantically, drawing a hoof across her throat to make the universal ‘kill’ gesture just out of Rainbow’s field of view. “Um… What are… your… hobbies? …Your Highness?” “Me? I like cloudball, flying, the Wonderbolts…” The handmaiden squirmed. “I… um… I like the Wonderbolts… too.” “You do?!” Rainbow leaned forward, excitement shining in her eyes. “I’ve loved the Wonderbolts forever! Ever since my dad took me to see one of their shows when I was a kid! The way they fly so fast, in sync—so awesome! Hey, who’s your favorite?” “Um… Who’s… your… favorite? …Your Highness?” Rainbow opened her mouth to reply, but then she stopped. The gears in her head turned. Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Fleetfoot,” she said slowly. “Spitfire’s my second favorite. I’ve always admired her sonic rainboom.” “My favorite is… er… Fleetfoot as well. Followed by Spitfire. I agree that her sonic rainboom is very… um… impressive.” Of course. How stupid for her to think she might actually have something in common with somepony else in this dumb castle. That the ponies who worked here might fall into some category other than pompous jerks and fake flank-kissers. Cold fury descended on her. Her gaze turned to ice. “I see.” The handmaiden shrank back in her chair. A few uncomfortable minutes later, the swinging door burst open, and the chef strolled back in bearing a silver-lidded platter. He placed it on the table in front of Rainbow Dash and lifted the cover. “Bon appetite, madame!” “What. Is. This.” The stench was the first thing that hit her: a pungent blend of raw sewage and roadkill. And it didn’t fare any better in the looks department. In fact, it looked like… something a mother bird might vomit up to feed her young. A coiled-up mass of glistening purple strands, like half-digested worms. The chef set the table with silverware and began filling their goblets from a pitcher of water. “Eet eez kelp salad. As zee one who eez being een charge of zee kitchen, I refused to even consider making a deesh like zee one you requested! A daisyburgeh and ’ayfries! Such… commoner food!” “…Commoner food.” There was no malice in Rainbow’s voice. No emotion. Just an ominous quiet. Like the calm before a storm. “We do not serve such slop een zees kitchen! Eet eez poison, unfit for ponies to consume—except zee sweaty, uneducated commoners who toil een zee fields and skies, bucking zee trees and pushing zee clouds! ’Ere in zees castle, we ’ave much more rarefied tastes!” Domo threw out her hooves. “Garcon, you imbecile! Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? This is Princess Celestia’s own daughter! Just bring her a burger and fries!” She looked at Rainbow apologetically. “Forgive his folly, Princess Aurora. He didn’t realize who you—” “MY NAME IS RAINBOW DASH!” There was an ear-splitting CRACK! and the goblets shattered, sending little bits of glass flying everywhere. Domo and the grays cringed low in their chairs while the chef pedaled back, tripping and falling through the kitchen door when Rainbow SLAMMED her hooves against the table, her eyes glowing white, rising above them like a force of nature! “RAINBOW DASH! THAT’S THE NAME MY MOM AND DAD GAVE ME, AND IT OUGHTA BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR ANYPONY!” Now the shards came up from the floor and flew into a whirlwind, spinning a deafening circle around Domo and the others. The candles flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness, while the air filled with the crackle of magic and the tempest’s mighty roar! Domo whimpered, raising her hooves to shield herself. “Your Highness—Princess Aurora—Rainbow Dash!” she cried. “Please, stop this!” Instantaneously, the light went out of Rainbow’s eyes. The airborne debris froze on the spot, then fell unceremoniously to the ground. “GET OUT.” Domo ran screaming from the room, the grays hot on her hooves. Rainbow chased them as far as the doorway, sticking her head out into the corridor in time to see the three of them skid around a corner. “AND I CAN TAKE MY OWN DAMN BATHS!” she shouted after them. She leaned against the wall, sucking down air in short, shuddering breaths. The room was spinning. It wasn’t doing that before, was it? Rainbow winced. “Shoulda taken that power nap.” She took a minute to steady herself, squeezing her eyes shut to fight off the motion sickness that was threatening to unleash her breakfast. When she opened them again, she was floored at what she saw. Dining room chairs lay toppled and broken amid a field of scattered candles, tempest-plucked their chandeliers and candelabras. Over half the stained glass windows were shattered. The suits of armor were noticeably battered, but intact, as was the table, which—while too heavy to be flipped or flung about—had still managed to drift several feet from its proper home. The place was a mess. It also didn’t help that there was kelp salad covering everything. “What the hay,” Rainbow said. Her expression of the day, apparently. With the hired help gone—probably cowering for their lives in some corner of the castle sub-basement—Rainbow set herself to the task of cleaning up. She wrinkled her nose and gathered the kelp, piled up the candles, straightened the chairs, and even threw her shoulder against the table in a semi-successful effort to push it back into place. The whole time, her brain did somersaults, struggling to come to grips with the fact that somehow, she had done all this. When the dining room was halfway put back together, she took a step back and admired her work. Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly like it had been when she first got here, but it was the best she could do. Rainbow sighed. “So much for lunch.” With that, she took her leave. She didn’t notice the pair of intelligent silver eyes monitoring her from the shadows. It seemed there was a spy after all. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ The eyes followed her down the white corridor. Then down another. And another. The guards made no attempt to stop her. Perhaps, by now, word of the new firebrand princess had circulated among them, and they were merely showing their deference. Or maybe they sensed the apocalyptic anger rippling off her and decided to steer clear. Whatever the reason, they didn’t harass her. Neither did they stop the spy with the silver eyes. But then again, he never gave them the opportunity. She took turns at random. Seemingly lost. Seeming not to care. Before long, she traversed the key-shaped arch that separated the palace’s private chambers from its public wing, and a few minutes later, she stood before the great golden doors of the throne room. And the pair of silver eyes followed her inside. Luna’s court was in session, though the term was hardly apropos. The throne room was empty, save for the princess, her knight protectors, some porters, and that fat, ugly tumor of a pony they called Lord Brilliant. But look! See now how young Rainbow Dash slinks in the shadows, how she skirts the royal limelight! And for that matter, the stairs! See how she bides her time until the court is distracted, then flits up to the second-story gallery when nopony is looking! See how she stands there with such fire in her eyes! She was headstrong, temperamental, more dangerous than she knew, and ten times more interesting than everypony else in this stuffy palace. How things had changed in the last seventeen years. How far she had come. The silver eyes were joined by a smile. An introduction was in order. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ Sheesh. And here Rainbow thought she was having a bad time. Yeah, she’d trashed the dining room, watched her dignity go down the drain with the bathwater, and worst of all, she was still hungry. But before any of that, Luna had scurried off to go deal with this Lord Brilliant dude. And she was still talking to him! A whole hour later! Well, maybe talking to him wasn’t the right way to put it. Actually, it seemed like Lord Brilliant was the one doing most of the talking. Luna was mostly just sitting there on the throne in what looked like total misery, cradling her head in her hooves. Lord Brilliant huffed in a high falsetto, “It’s SCANDALOUS! An affront to my title, and an insult to my family name! That the Brilliant clan should bow to the whims of some—COMMON STRUMPET!” He was about twenty percent fatter than the fattest pony Rainbow Dash had ever seen. He was so fat, she could count the fat rolls rippling down his body, even from way in the back! A fat unicorn with about four dozen chins and a gold coat that bulged under the effort of containing the sheer fat-fat-fattiness that was Lord Brilliant. Also, he was fat. She wondered if he could even walk under the weight of all that fat. Didn’t look like it. Lord Brilliant reclined on a sumptuous chaise lounge inside a little curtained compartment. Four earth ponies carried the compartment on poles, groaning and teetering under the burden of lifting the great equine blob who was their liege. “Lord Brilliant,” Luna spoke. “We both know that’s unfair. I’ve met the mayor of Manehattan before, and I found her to be a pony of unimpeachable—” “YES! A stupendous idea, Your Majesty! You should impeach her! Impeach the mayor! Impeach her at once!” Luna groaned. “That isn’t what I was trying to—” “Oh, but she SHOULD be impeached! Do you know what she told my son? She told him that she represents the PEOPLE! And that the will of the people is more important than his business affairs! And that SHE has more authority than ME! Simply because she happens to have been DEMOCRATICALLY ELECTED! Isn’t that funny? What a JOKE!” “If I may interject—” “It’s not like the land’s even being used for anything! It’s a wilderness, ripe for industry, sitting unused in the middle of the city! My son is well within his rights of nobility to demand the local government cede the property to his company for exploitation and development!” “Lord Brilliant, I do believe Central Park has some significance to the people of Manehattan. There are many who would be saddened to see it bulldozed and turned into a factory.” Lord Brilliant scoffed. “RUBBISH!” By now, their bickering was just a buzz in Rainbow’s ear. She yawned. This was super boring. Nowhere near as awesome as she thought it would be. Maybe she should go find something else to— That’s when she saw him. An old unicorn, royal purple, with a snow-white beard that fell halfway down his chest. Watching her from the opposing balcony, from behind a pair of half-moon spectacles. She blinked, and he was gone. Weird. A growl in her stomach reminded her how hungry she was. She made up her mind to head back to the kitchen. Even if the culinary staff were still duck-and-covering it up in a bomb shelter somewhere, she could always throw some popcorn in the microwave. Any idiot could use a microwave, right? Luna sneezed. “Gesundheit,” said a guard. Yeah, this place was dullsville. Time to blow this popsicle stand. Rainbow turned to leave— —and bumped right into him! The old purple geezer! She flailed back. “WAHHH! Where’d you come from?!” “Over there,” he said simply. Rainbow’s head whipped back and forth between the unicorn standing here, right next to her, and the balcony where he’d just been no more than a moment ago, fifty feet away and clear on the other side of the room. “How the heck did you do that? You got over here in ten seconds flat!’ He chuckled. “Just a little parlor trick of mine.” “A parlor trick?” She scrutinized him carefully. “What, are you some kind of jester or something?” “Something like that,” he answered cryptically. “I’m Sage Whitehoof. It’s an honor and a privilege to meet you again, Your Highness.” “To meet me again?” she echoed his words. “That’s funny. I don’t remember meeting you the first time.” He smiled a far-off smile. “Well, it has been a few years.” “If that’s true, and you know who I am, you might as well cut to the chase and save us both some time.” “The chase?” Rainbow scowled and swished the air with her hoof. “Yeah, you know, the stupid bowing, tripping over yourself with praise, etcetera, etcetera. You might as well just get it out of your system right now.” “Very well! If you insist!” He dipped low, his back hoof scraping the ground in a courtly bow. “Her Highness, Princess Aurora. Scion of the Realm, heir to the throne, and long-lost daughter of Her Majesty, Princess Celestia.” Rainbow muttered a few choice words under her breath. He bowed a second time. “Rainbow Dash, captain of the Ponyville weather team, self-styled fastest flyer in Equestria, and the only known practitioner of the fabled sonic rainboom. Incarnation of Loyalty, Fifth of the Bearers of Harmony, and one sixth the downfall of the usurper, Nightmare Moon.” “Well, at least somepony got the memo!” “Knowing things is an important part of my job,” said Sage. “And speaking of jobs, I saw the job you did on the dining room a few minutes ago. I imagine Princess Luna must have warned you that such runaway sorcery could befall an untrained talent in magic?” Rainbow’s ears flattened against her head. “You, uh… saw that, huh?” “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s an understandable thing to have happen to somepony in your situation. You see, a horn is a bit like a garden hose—it’s a useful tool, but lose control of it, and you’re sure to make a splash. If you’d had the upbringing most unicorns do, you’d have learned the basics of control ages ago. Without that foundation, it’s only natural for outbursts of the dining room sort to occur. Your magic feeds on your emotions, and your emotions feed on your magic. One reinforces the other, and so it can all intensify rather quickly. Like sound reverberating in an echo chamber.” “Yeah, that’s… um… part of the reason why I took Luna up on her invitation to come to Canterlot,” Rainbow admitted sheepishly. “And a wise decision it was,” Sage observed. “If you should happen to meet Domo and her maidservants again, you might consider an apology. But I don’t want you to spend another minute worrying about the damage inflicted on the castle. The princesses anticipated minor fits of magic like this. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. As for your missing foundations, your lack of control over your horn… We’ll take care of that soon enough.” Rainbow frowned. Her eyes darted to his cutie mark: an arcane eye, bright and shining blue, embellished with runic symbols all around. “…What did you say your job was again?” He swatted his head. “Pardon me! Where are my manners?” Now he stuck out a purple hoof for her to shake. For a heartbeat, Rainbow regarded it with barely disguised suspicion. How well she could remember the scene in Fluttershy’s back yard a few short days ago when she’d made a similar overture to Captain Tristar, only to have it thrown back in her face. She hesitantly offered her own hoof. He shook it in earnest. “I’m what’s known as a mage—a practitioner of the magical arts. For the last thirty-one years, I’ve served at Her Majesty’s pleasure as headmaster of Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.” “That’s that big-time magic school Twilight went to, isn’t it?” Sage’s face brightened. His eyes gleamed with pride. “Ah, Twilight Sparkle! A finer student I’ve never had. There’s a filly who was born for a purpose!” He gave Rainbow a little wink. “I expect you’ll give her a run for her money.” “Me?” “IT’S NOT FAIR, YOUR MAJESTY!” Lord Brilliant’s shrill screech carried up from the throne room floor, diverting their attention. “I won’t sit for it while you trample the rights of the nobility in your sister’s absence! I WON’T SIT FOR IT, I TELL YOU!” “He won’t sit for it?” Rainbow repeated disbelievingly. “It doesn’t even look like that guy’s stood up on his own in the last couple decades!” The elder unicorn chuckled. Rainbow continued to fume. “You know, I don’t get it. I’ve never understood why Canterlot’s got this upper crust of stupid, snooty unicorns whose job it is to look down on everypony else.” “The High Court,” said Sage, with unhidden disdain. “A vestigial organ of the Equestrian government, but one we haven’t evolved out of yet.” “Vestigial?” “It’s a word for something old that no longer serves a purpose.” His ancient face crinkled with a smile, kindhearted and warm. “Pardon an old stallion who’s read too many dictionaries.” He continued, “In olden days, when the kingdom was newly established and old hatreds still simmered among the tribes, Celestia and Luna were the rulers of unified Equestria in name—but their political power was limited. Outside of Canterlot and the other Crown holdings, the sisters had little practical ability to enforce policy, administer justice, raise garrison, collect tax, and carry out other such functions that the state demanded. Those powers devolved onto the nobles, who in those days presided over their own fiefdoms, but swore allegiance to the Sun and Moon, recognizing them as liege.” “Is this learning?” Rainbow groaned. “This sounds like learning.” “In that case, let me bring it down to earth. Or would you rather I brought it up to the sky? You being an ex-pegasus, it’s hard to guess which direction’s your preference.” There was a twinkle in Sage’s silver eyes. Rainbow gave him a look. “You’re sure you’re not a jester?” “You work for the Ponyville weather office. How many other pegasi do you have on your weather team?” “Other than me? Just Cloud Chaser and Thunderlane. Unless there’s a freak storm or some other emergency that forces us to call up reserves. Or a holiday, like Winter Wrap Up or something.” “Are there ever days when the weather’s too demanding for a single pony to handle, and you’re forced to divvy up responsibilities?” Rainbow nodded. “Sure, all the time. I usually tell Thunderlane to manage the skies between town square and Sweet Apple Acres, and Cloud Chaser to take on everything else out to Whitetail Wood.” “Well, in the dawning years after Equestria was founded, that’s about what it was like for Celestia and Luna—with the added wrinkle that if they had tried to govern the entire country by themselves, the Cloud Chasers and Thunderlanes of the world would have revolted against the Crown and splintered off to form their own rival weatherpony kingdoms.” “Feh! I’d like to see Thunderlane try. That dude takes way too much time off work to be the king of anything.” Sage explained, “Even though the princesses conducted the sun and moon, they couldn’t amass too much political power for themselves in those days, for doing so would have invited mistrust and risked shattering the realm. They were hamstrung, and so they depended on the noble houses to stake out new castles and settlements, raise levies, and carry out their will.” Rainbow’s head swam with the unexpected history lesson. She figured she’d absorbed about half of it. “That’s not the way it works anymore, though,” she felt it necessary to point out. “Not these days, no.” “Why not?” Sage looked thoughtful. “Hmm… There’s more than one reason, I suppose. As time went on, the old hatreds faded, and the kingdom wasn’t as unstable as it had been before… Which, in turn, allowed Princess Celestia to pass new laws to centralize power in Canterlot, depriving the nobility of their clout. Then came the era of democratic reform and representative government, in the earth pony tradition. These days, titles of nobility are more ceremonial than anything. But the High Court and the noble houses endure. “Princess Luna, however—” he said, with a tip of his head toward the fiasco still playing out in the throne room below, “—doesn’t understand the new way of things. She’s still mired in the way things used to be, before she was banished to the moon. Even then, she only ruled as a princess for but a few years before the Nightmare took her, and much of that time, she spent in her sister’s shadow. She’s still a young pony, despite her ancient origins. Not all that much older than you, in fact. She still has a lot to learn about governing… And she hasn’t come to grasp yet how much the balance of power has shifted away from the nobility in the last thousand years. If she did, she would probably turn Lord Brilliant out on his sorry rear end here and now.” Rainbow rolled these new insights and revelations around in her head. The facts made sense, as Sage described them. Then she thought back to the Grand Galloping Gala. In her mind’s eye, she saw all those stuffy nobles again. All those arrogant jerks, looking down on her and her friends, sneering at Pinkie Pie’s choice in music and Applejack’s ‘carnival fare’ food, and she couldn’t help but wonder— “If they’re so useless nowadays, why not just get rid of them? Why keep any of them around at all?” Sage considered for a moment. “Some would say a debt is owed. Several of the noble houses are ancient, tracing their pedigrees to the original three tribes, predating Celestia, Luna, and Equestria itself by hundreds of years. A few of the nobles can even backtrack their lineage to the Founders themselves. Blueblood, for example, is descended of Princess Platinum’s line. “Then, too, we are still a nation of laws. As eminent as Celestia and Luna are, they aren’t absolute monarchs. They don’t rule by edict alone. Celestia made the willful choice to recuse herself from such tyranny centuries ago. It would trigger an uproar if the princesses tried to retract a title of nobility without due cause. As for suspending the High Court in its entirety—why, that would take nothing less than an act of Parliament. “And the nobles of the High Court do have their supporters in Parliament… and in the press.” Sage grimaced. “Make no mistake. The nobles aren’t nearly as powerful today as they once were, but they aren’t powerless. They’re old money, with influence and connections to spare. They wield the power of tradition. And tradition can be a persuasive thing.” Rainbow had just opened her mouth to reply when Lord Brilliant’s sniveling voice cut sharp— “THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!” Their eyes snapped back down to the throne room, where it seemed things were quickly coming to a head: Luna was up off the throne, standing angrily on the dais above Lord Brilliant, while the fat aristocrat was practically steaming at the ears. “I remember when this court had INTEGRITY! When the High Court was respected, and the Second Estate came FIRST!” “Now, SEE HERE, Lord Brilliant! My sister would NEVER countenance this kind of rudeness!” “Princess Celestia? WHERE IS SHE? I’d much prefer to talk to her! I’m sure SHE would remember—my family’s loyalty to her goes back a thousand years! We shed our blood for her cause in the War of Night Eternal! But I suppose that wouldn’t mean much to YOU, would it?” Luna’s eyes flew wide. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I shall take my leave of you now, thank you very much! Do be sure to notify me when Princess Celestia takes the throne again. Perhaps THEN I’ll have the chance to bring my dear son’s proposal to somepony with a record of being on the RIGHT SIDE OF HISTORY!” Lord Brilliant motioned to his valets, who proceeded to bear his overstuffed carcass toward the exit. Rainbow felt a tsunami of anger crash over her. She was about to fly down there and give the inflated blowhard a piece of her mind, but before she could, she felt a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “Allow me.” She glanced up to see Sage’s horn emitting an onyx glow. Then— CRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAACK! CRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAACK! There was a sound like twin thunderclaps, and two bolts of lightning came down, snapping the poles clean off the back of Lord Brilliant’s booth! The earth pony porters tried to salvage it, but it was too late. The whole thing tipped over, and pompous Lord Brilliant, spherical as he was, went spinning out the back on his fantastically round belly! “ARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!” Lord Brilliant’s face was a blur as he bowled down the throne room, finally rolling to a stop right in front of the lofty dais. There he lay in a grotesque heap, wiggling his arms and legs ineffectually, too obese to stand. “HELP ME!” he rasped. “I’VE FALLEN AND I CAN’T GET UP!” Rainbow clamped a hoof over her mouth to keep the laughter in. Luna looked down at him, horrified. “Are you all right?” By some incredible feat of jiggling, Lord Brilliant managed to roll over onto his belly, prostrating himself before the lunar princess. “MERCY! PLEASE, YOUR MAJESTY! MERCY!” Luna’s eyes grew wider still. “But—I didn’t—!” “PLEASE!” he bawled like a frightened child. “DON’T HURT ME!” The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Torment flashed across Luna’s face as old regrets, freshly buried, were once more unearthed. Time slowed down, and in a moment that stretched to eternity and back, she was transported to another place, a different time. A thousand years of sorrows reflected in her teal-blue eyes. Suddenly, Rainbow didn’t feel like laughing anymore. “Jeeze,” she muttered. “Some ponies can’t take a practical joke, huh?” She waited expectantly for Sage to chime in with another salvo of wisdom. After a few seconds went by, she glanced up. He was gone. Disappeared, without a trace. Again. He’d been standing right there! Then, POOF! And she hadn’t even noticed! How did he DO that? ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ And the silver eyes watched her, unseen. Watched her look for him, high and low. Watched the frustration set in on her face. Watched her succumb at last to boredom and aggravation, and vexed, slip down the gallery stairs and leave the throne room behind, still shirking the attention of the court. She certainly had come a long way. No longer the quivering little ball of blue fur and pudge he remembered from so long ago. To think—she even embodied an Element of Harmony now! He pondered. Would Celestia have consented to send her away if she had known Loyalty would one day choose her to be its avatar? And if she hadn’t sent her away, what then? Would a royal upbringing have sparked such a fire in her? Or would the Element of Loyalty have passed her by like a ship in the night, to moor itself upon another pony’s shore? How loyal she had become. Loyal to her friends. Loyal even to the point of wishing to rush off and defend Luna, whom she had only just met. How loyal she was, indeed. And how proud. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ There was no place more breathtaking than the East Garden. The setting sun threw its gaze upon the place, softening the palette of white and emerald with a honeyed glow. Here and there were oaks, maples, and other trees that were alien, but no less stupendous: towering, graceful things draped with reams of golden leaves, reaching up to kiss the sky. As twilight approached, the birds retired to their nests for the evening, and an army of fireflies came out to take their place. In the center of the garden stood a statue. Not a statue of marble or bronze, like so many of the other monuments in High Canterlot, but a statue carved out of basalt, black and plain. For of all the statues in the castle and the city, this one was the oldest. Sculpted and dedicated over a thousand years ago, in the time of Canterlot’s founding, from stone borne by ancient lava flows long ago harvested from the mountain. It rose up ten feet, and the shadow it cast stretched long in the evening sun. The chiseled likeness of a stallion, his heroic head held high, his wings proudly displayed, decked in armor, with a crown situated atop his noble brow. His face was gentle, but reflected a will of iron. And on the pedestal, these words appeared: ATLAS FRIEND, FATHER, FOUNDER HE WHO RAISED THE HEAVENS LIFTED THE WORLD OUT OF DARKNESS In the shade of this silent sentinel, Rainbow Dash lay on her back, gazing out across the horizon with longing. Remembering what freedom tasted like. What it felt like. The way the air filled her lungs, making her feel so alive. Then, as she swept back her wings and fell into a dive—The velocity! The adrenaline! The wind in her mane! The rush of vertical g’s when she leveled out, and the whole world righted itself! There was nothing for her here in Canterlot. Nothing… and nopony. It had been three days since the unfortunate little incident with Lord Brilliant at court, and although Luna tried to make time to see her when she could, the princess was still far too preoccupied with running the kingdom in Celestia’s absence to pull herself away for long. Toward Canterlot. Toward tomorrow. Toward confinement. Toward concealment. Toward boring. She wanted to be back home! Back in Ponyville, with all of her friends! She wanted to race Applejack through Whitetail Wood, play pranks with Pinkie Pie, and rehearse for the Wonderbolts to Fluttershy’s soft-spoken chorus of “yay.” She wanted to sleep the day away on a cloud without any stress or care in the world. And if the weather schedule said, “Rain,” she’d just give that cloud a kick and go find another one to sleep on. She wanted her old life back! She wanted her friends! She wanted to fly! It’s only for a month and a half, she told herself, clamping down on a rising tide of homesickness. Only until after the Summer Sun Celebration. I’ll be home soon… ish. Eventually. Rainbow heard hoofsteps coming down the walk. She glanced up and spied a navy-blue pegasus meandering in her direction. He wore a straw hat and a neat gray beard, and he hummed a little tune around the handle of the watering can he carried clenched in his jaw. He stopped at a bed of magnolias not ten feet away. Without acknowledging her, he started watering the flowers. Rainbow stared at him. She’d been residing at the castle for days, and in all that time, she couldn’t remember a single occasion when a servant hadn’t tried to kiss the ground she walked on. Yet here was this humble gardener, toiling in front of her without even a “Your Highness.” “Uh… Hi,” she said. The pegasus glanced at her from under the wide brim of his hat. “Oh. Hello. Didn’t see you there,” he said. Then he turned his back and resumed his watering. Rainbow blinked. Something wasn’t right here. She stood and walked over. “That’s it?” “That’s what?” “That’s all you’re gonna say?” A chuckle escaped him. The magnolias were sated, so he continued on to the next flower patch and tipped his watering can again. “What else would ye have me say, lass?” “Well—Look at me!” The old blue pegasus did as he was told. He put down the watering can and paused to give her a thorough survey, looking her over from head to hoof. “Well?” “Ye look all right to me,” he said with a shrug. Then he went right on back to watering the plants. Rainbow stared. “Aren’t you gonna bow down and tell me who I am?” “Do ye want me to bow down to you?” “I—well, no, but—” “Then I won’t bow. Do ye want me to tell you who you are?” “…No. Not really.” “I didn’t think so. In my experience, folks around these parts are all too happy to tell you who you are and what to be.” The last few drops trickled from his spout, and he strolled over to a nearby fountain to refill the watering can. Rainbow jogged to keep up with him. “So, who are you?” “Me?” he laughed. “I’m nopony important.” “Come on! You’re, like, the first normal pony I’ve met since I got here. What’s your name?” The pegasus just smiled knowingly. He picked up the container again, water sloshing over the sides, and ambled back over to the flowers. “Call me whatever you like,” he said, hovering over some chrysanthemums. “No matter what ye choose to call me, it won’t change who I am on the inside. In the end, that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?” “I… I guess,” she said, giving him an odd look. “Well, fine then. I’ll just call you Gardener.” The old pegasus snorted. “That’s a terrible name.” “Yeah? Why’s that?” “Because gardeners wield trowels and shovels. They dig up the dirt, and then they grow the seeds they plant themselves.” He moved on to the tiger lilies. “As for me… all my sowing days are done. I don’t plant the flowers anymore. I just help them on their way.” “Okay then, wise guy. If you aren’t a gardener, then what are you?” He stooped over a plot of morning glories. The indigo flowers wilted in the fading light. “I suppose you can think of me as a caretaker.” They stood quietly apart for a spell, Rainbow Dash and the Caretaker, until he exhausted his supply of water again. Then he set down his watering can and turned to look at her with an eyebrow raised. “So, what’s your name?” “I’m—” She paused. Would he know her by her ‘common’ name? Then again, did she really want to start going by the royal one? She already felt like she was losing herself in this place. They’d taken away her freedom, her friends… Did she really want to let them have her identity too? Aw, screw it. What difference did it make? It was just a dumb name. “I’m Princess Aurora,” she said, albeit through gritted teeth. He smirked. “Ach, that’s funny! And here I was all this time, thinking I was talking to Rainbow Dash!” Rainbow sputtered, “I—But—How did you—?!” “Word travels quickly around Canterlot Castle, lass. Especially when you go terrorizing the domestic servants.” She grimaced. “You heard about that, eh?” “Of course! But just between you, me, and the statue here, I’m sure they had it coming. They can be a tad… enthusiastic at times,” he said, smiling wistfully. “Tell me, how d’you like Canterlot so far?” Rainbow cast her eyes downward and kicked at a rock. “It sucks.” “How eloquent! Care to elaborate?” “I can’t stand being cooped up in this place. I wanna be out there!” She pointed at the horizon sky, which had finally shed its golden cashmere for the violet cloak of dusk. “That’s where I’m supposed to be! Not stuck in a stupid castle all day long! I think they gave me a room with a view just to torture me. And,” she added with a sneer, just to emphasize this last point was particularly awful, “nopony around here knows how to make a daisyburger and hayfries!” The Caretaker roared with laughter. Rainbow gave a little “hmph!” and plopped back down, leaning against the base of the statue. “Laugh it up, buddy.” “Don’t despair. I’ve a feeling things will start looking up for you soon enough. But take this grain of wisdom from an old pegasus: any four walls can serve as a prison, but it’s not until we open our hearts and minds that we’re ever truly free.” He leaned down and whispered, “Keep your eyes on that horizon.” Then he picked up his watering can and started back toward the castle. He gave her a wink as he sauntered past. Rainbow listened as his whistling tune faded into the distance along with his hoofsteps. Once he was gone, she turned her eyes back to the sky. Luna had worked her magic upon the firmament, bringing out the moon. A few stars glimmered in the purple-deep amid faint gray brushstroke clouds. Man, what she would give to be out there right now. It’s only for a month and a half, she reaffirmed. Only a month and a half, and then you’ll be back home again. As she gazed out into the west, she saw something strange. A beacon of light, rapidly descending toward Canterlot. Rainbow leapt to her hooves and squinted through the encroaching darkness. That shock of color, that flicker of white— Celestia was here. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ Celestia was exhausted. She persevered against the headwind. Against the soreness in her wings and the throbbing ache behind her eyes. The trials and travails of the past weeks had taken their toll on the empyreal goddess. Back-to-back journeys to and from the Griffin Kingdom had made her physically tired, but it was nothing compared to the mental strain, the emotional taxation of reliving every tortured second of her bitter parting with Aurora along the way; the fear and anguish of knowing what awaited her here upon her return. And it was more than one unhappy task that awaited her. The information she had gleaned from their operatives in the frozen north would save lives. That information was her priority now; that obligation, her sovereign. And there was still so much to do. The chancellor had to be notified. There were exercises and rehearsals that had to be drilled into the Royal Guard. Preparations to be made for reconnaissance and rapid response. Briefings, briefings, and more briefings with municipal officials and departments… As she glided down over the castle, her eyes fixed on a high tower window. Her window. There was so much that lay in front of her, but her soul cried out for peace and solitude. For the chance to stand still and be alone with her pain and her emotions. Half an hour wouldn’t make a difference. She could allow herself that. But now as she descended on that window, on that sanctuary, a yellow glow of firelight alerted her to the presence of somepony inside. She heard the scratch of a quill against parchment as she landed on the ledge. Peering in, she saw Luna at the desk, scribbling away at some documents. She tapped on the glass. Luna heard the noise and looked up, a smile dawning on her lips. She sprang to her hooves and magically undid the latch. A blast of warm air hit Celestia in the face as the window swung open. She stumbled into the study. “Isn’t it a bit peculiar to be up doing paperwork at nine o’clock at night?” she deadpanned as she took stock of her sister. Luna snorted and closed the window. “Gee, I don’t know. Isn’t it a bit peculiar to be sneaking into one’s own castle?” “Touché.” They looked at each other, and the sarcastic jabs were forgotten. Luna was at her sister’s side in an instant to welcome her with a nuzzle, a gesture Celestia lovingly returned. “I’ve missed you, Tia.” “Oh, Luna. I’ve missed you too.” Then a wave of dizziness overcame Celestia. She broke away and staggered to the hearth, all but collapsing onto a pillow by the fireside. “All you all right?” Luna rushed over, looking concerned. “I’m fine,” said Celestia with an obvious wince. “Just a little tired.” “You look like you’re in pain.” “I’m a goddess, Luna. I’m supposed to be above pain.” “You’re supposed to be above the vanilla cloud cakes they bake down in the kitchens too, but I’ve seen you put more than a few of those away. Now, how do you really feel?” Celestia groaned. “Like somepony took a rolling pin to my brain.” “Should I send for the court physician?” “No, that won’t be necessary,” Celestia said quickly. “But, ah… I wouldn’t turn down a slice of cloud cake, since you mentioned it.” Luna nodded. Before she could go, Celestia touched her gently on the hoof. And when the younger princess looked down, she found her sister’s tiredness replaced with an expression of the utmost determination and resolve. “Friday.” Luna took a moment to process this. “You’re certain?” “Friday morning. Somewhere downtown. That’s all I could learn.” “Have you notified the appropriate agencies? Local authorities?” “That, dear sister, I leave in your good hooves.” Luna sucked in a breath, feeling the mantle of responsibility on her shoulders. The two of them shared a knowing look. “I did stop by the Academy,” Celestia admitted. “I informed Sage. He should be here in a few minutes.” “You… want to start planning tonight? Tia, you’re exhausted!” “Sage needed to know. There isn’t anypony better suited to spearheading this thing than him. And I will not rest so long as my people’s lives are in jeopardy.” Celestia’s voice carried all the weight of her crown and then some. “But—” “Aurora deserves the chance to meet him, besides.” She hung her head, suddenly weary again. “How is she, Luna?” “Why don’t you ask me yourself?” Now it was Celestia’s turn to suck in a sharp breath. There, leaning against the doorway, was Rainbow Dash. An icicle of dread skewered her through and through. She had known this moment was coming, of course, but she hadn’t expected it to be upon her so soon. She’d spent the last six days trying to put the inevitability of this reunion as far from her mind as possible, and now it was here— She felt Luna lay a steadying hoof on her shoulder. She hadn’t realized she’d begun to shake. Then— “I hope my tardiness hasn’t been cause for delay.” There, standing behind Rainbow Dash, was an elderly purple unicorn with a snow-white beard and intelligent silver eyes, smiling out from behind a pair of half-moon spectacles. Sage Whitehoof. He sidled on into the study. “Your Majesty. Your Majesty,” he said, bowing to Celestia and Luna each in turn. Rainbow gaped at him. “You!” With a merry twinkle in his eye, he turned and bowed down a third time for Rainbow Dash. “Your Highness,” he said. “Rainbow, this is Sage Whitehoof,” Luna spoke up. “He serves as headmaster of Princess Celestia’s School for—” “We’ve met,” Rainbow cut her off. “You have?” Luna quirked an eyebrow. “Then you already know we intend him to oversee your tutelage here in Canterlot?” “Toota-what?” “Tutelage. Schooling in the arts of magic.” Rainbow blanched. “School?” Sage stepped forward. “Pardon me, Princess Luna. If I may interject… I’m honored that you and your sister think me worthy of such a noble charge, and I shan’t refuse if it’s your decree. But I can think of another purple unicorn who might be better suited to the task.” “Who—?” Luna began. But Celestia stopped her with a touch. Sage’s suggestion was no great puzzle to her. She had already caught on, and now her brow furrowed as she turned the idea over in her head. A friend and a familiar face might be more beneficial to her education, she rationalized. And another thought resounded in the aching hollows of her soul: It would make her happy. “Do it,” said Celestia. “I’ll send missive first thing tomorrow morning.” Celestia nodded. Then her eyes wandered back to Rainbow, and she bit her lower lip. “Sage… I know I requested your presence here tonight on a matter of grave importance, but I neglected to realize how tired my travels have made me, and I’m afraid I must adjourn. Why don’t you and Princess Luna carry on without me? My sister is aware of all the relevant details, and I’m sure she can show you to a parlor when you can begin to hammer out strategy. I’ll reconvene with the two of you tomorrow morning.” “Tia…?” Luna asked, an obvious edge of concern in her voice. Celestia gave her hoof a pat. “It’s all right, sister.” “Very well, Your Majesty. I bid you good evening,” said Sage. Then, with an affable smile, “Princess Luna, if you’ll lead the way?” Luna’s eyes darted between Celestia and Rainbow Dash with apprehension. She gave her sister’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before she slowly, reluctantly withdrew. “Of course, Professor Whitehoof. Princess Celestia and I are grateful for your assistance in this matter, as well as your discretion. I do believe there’s a chamber down the hall that will suit our purposes…” The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Celestia alone, once more, in the company of Rainbow Dash. Celestia took a deep breath. She had to face this. She couldn’t keep running from it. Her hooves were trembling… Elements, when was the last time anything affected her like this? She’d been a pillar of strength for centuries, and now here she was, shaking like a leaf! Her shivering anxiety, her bottomless self-doubt… She forced them down like the bitter pills they were. Putting on what she hoped was an even expression, she looked back at that cyan-blue filly again. “It’s good to see you again, Rainbow Dash. How… How are you faring?” Rainbow’s reply was pure acid. “How am I faring?” Celestia froze. The bottom fell out of her stomach to hear the bitterness and rage behind those words, to see those hard, pink eyes flashing at her like rubies again. Instantly, she was back in that hospital room, drowning in her own shame and flailing for something, anything, to say— “Let’s get one thing straight,” Rainbow snarled, “I’m here for ONE REASON, and ONE REASON ONLY. I’m here for ME. You got that? Not you. ME.” Her forehoof pointed at Celestia, violently jabbing the air, and the princess reeled back, cowering, her eyes wide, as if she’d actually been struck. It was truly a bizarre sight to see, but the flames were licking at Rainbow’s temper, and she was in a place that was too hot and too red to bother caring about how out-there this situation was—the fact that two weeks ago, she would have been bowing in respect for this pony, and now, here she was, shunning her to her face, about to go on a tirade that would leave her trembling— “I’m here for ME. I’m not here to play nice, get to know you, sing Kumbaya, whatever the BUCK was going through your head when you asked me to come to Canterlot! If it weren’t for Luna and Twilight, I wouldn’t even BE here, and do you know why? Because I don’t care about ANYTHING you’ve got to say! I don’t care about you! I DON’T NEED YOU!” Her wings were buzzing, she was in the air now, looming over Celestia, and Celestia was shrinking into herself, smaller than ever— “My WHOLE LIFE, I didn’t need you! My WHOLE LIFE, you weren’t there, and that was FINE! I didn’t need you! I got by on my own! So don’t go thinking I need you now, because I DON’T!” Rainbow’s hoof slammed against the door. It banged open, and she stormed out into the hall, pausing only to hurl one last grenade of invective and spite back in Celestia’s stupid face: “I DON’T NEED YOU! I NEVER DID, AND I NEVER WILL. NEVER!” The door slammed closed with a devastating note of finality. Outside, Rainbow pressed her back against the wall, adrenaline thundering in her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. It wasn’t enough. It never was anymore. Inside, Celestia hung her head, hers to wallow in the sting. The fire had gone out in the marble hearth. Nothing remained, not even so much as a withering flame. Only embers, rapidly cooling, and ashes, and ashes, and more ashes. She wondered if there was enough kindling there for anything to catch. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ Elsewhere, in Ponyville, one little pony tossed and turned, tossed and turned, kicked at her covers and tossed and turned. Horrors darted in front of her eyes. Horrors upon horrors upon horrors upon horrors upon… Nightmares. Running. Running in the dark. Dark shapes. Dark shapes all around. She writhed and she trembled and she tossed and she turned… In an ancient castle, surrounded by ruins. Something glowing on the floor. A necklace. A golden necklace with a red bolt of lightning. She reached out to touch it. It floated up in the air. Started spinning. A sudden flash of light. The lightning bolt was cracked, its brilliant scarlet hue faded to a forlorn gray. She looked at it and she cried. The tears pushed past her eyelids and ran down her cheeks. Dark shapes. Dark shapes all around her. Trapped. Nowhere to run. She tried anyway. They caught her. They wouldn’t let her go. …and she tossed and she turned… A glint of silver in the dark. Pain. Horrible, stabbing pain. Coldness. Coldness pushing from her chest into her limbs, filling her veins with ice. Darkness seeping in, turning the whole world black. Yet when she looked down, it wasn’t herself she saw lying there, motionless, in a pool of red. …horrors upon horrors upon horrors upon horrors upon… Nightmare. Those jet-black wings. That swirling hair. Nightmare Moon, smirking from up on the dais, shedding stars from her indigo mane and filling her ears with the most wicked kind of laughter. She stomped her hoof. The Elements shattered into a thousand pieces. The night. Would last. Forever. Nightmare Moon scraped her hoof and charged, and she cowered away from her. From those dragon eyes, running at her in the dark. From those twin, purple-colored icicles, glittering with malice. Toss and turn. Toss and turn. Scream for your life and toss and turn. TWILIGHT… An earthquake. Black fire. A gash that split the sky. TWILIGHT… Dark shapes. Dark shapes, galloping all around her. A glint of silver. A pool of red. And lying in the pool, covered in the red, was—was— “TWILIGHT!” …Then she woke up, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath, clutching at her blanket like it was the only thing in the world that would protect her. “A dream,” she choked out. “Just a dream.” She blinked in the morning sunlight through pinpoint pupils. This was one ghostie she couldn’t bring herself to giggle at. She didn’t think she ever would. Slowly, she rocked back and forth, hugging herself. “TWILIGHT! ARE YOU AWAKE YET?” Spike called up. “Y-Yes, I am, Spike!” she shouted back immediately out of habit. She cursed herself and closed her eyes, praying the little dragon wouldn’t catch the obvious quiver in her voice. He didn’t. “THERE’S A LETTER FOR YOU FROM CANTERLOT! LOOKS LIKE IT’S IMPORTANT!” Twilight groaned. Probably a message from Princess Celestia berating her for her lack of friendship reports. Nightmare upon nightmare. What a way to start the morning. She dragged herself out of bed, took a couple minutes to brush her teeth and her hair, and then descended the stairs to the library proper. The smell of coffee and eggs wafted in from the kitchen. Spike was cooking breakfast. “The letter’s on the desk!” Spike shouted over the sizzle of the frying pan. Twilight’s stomach rumbled, but her appetite could wait. Blinking through the last bleary remnants of sleep, she crossed the room to where the missive lay upon her writing desk. She stopped dead in her tracks. The parchment didn’t bear Princess Celestia’s seal. Instead, staring back at her was a red wax disc stamped with an arcane eye. The emblem of the Academy. She tore into it, barely able to contain her excitement. She read every word. When her eyes reached the bottom, she started over and read it again. And again. And again. Then at last, she set the letter back down. She heard Spike humming in the kitchen, accompanied by the clink of pots and pans and the gush of water from the tap. Quietly, so as not to alert him, she went to the front door and slipped outside. Rounding the trunk of the massive old oak tree, she stood on a grassy rise, and with a small frown, gazed out into the north. Twilight Sparkle looked on Canterlot, far in the distance.