//------------------------------//
// Chapter 15: Beggars 
// Story: Strings 
// by naturalbornderpy 
//------------------------------//


CHAPTER FIFTEEN:


BEGGARS


 


1


 

It was the middle of the night and she was flying through clouds, and she couldn’t explain at all how it was possible.
                
Sure, as a knowledgeable alicorn with wings it must have seemed like an uncomplicated situation to find oneself in, but hadn’t she been busy reading only a short moment ago? Of course she had. She was nearing the last few pages of her latest dry and dusty text when—
                
Twilight must be dreaming.
                
How? she thought mildly, as she felt the oddly real wind blow through her mane—the oddly real mist on her face as she floated under a darkened cloud. No one’s dreamed anything since Luna disappeared. And that was a year ago already.
                
A tip of something dark blue against the midnight sky, just barely out of sight.
                
“Luna?” she called.
                
She knew her voice shouldn’t echo in such a way outside and yet still it does. These were the rules of dreams. But if no one was allowed to dream anymore, why was she being allowed one?
                
Not a single noise answered her request. But still that feeling… that deep feeling that something was just out of sight, remained. If only she could find it, she thought. If only she could catch it.
                
Yet Twilight did not believe it wished to be found. Not yet.
                
“Luna?” she yelled once more. For close to a minute she hung in place; watched the slow moving clouds crisscross along the sky and slowly pass over the bright full moon. Then she got mad at the entire scene. “You can’t just leave Equestria without a Princess, Luna! Ponies are depending on you! I’m depending on you!” She had trouble articulating the rest. “What happened to Celestia was terrible, I know, but sometimes you need to put others ahead of yourself. Ponies look up to you, Luna… and I do too.” Her last few words were barely a whisper.
                
One by one, every major piece of her dream faded to black. First were the fields of clouds, popping away one by one; then went the moon, as bright as a spotlight against a tall black curtain. And still with nothing left in her dream, Twilight saw not a single trace of Princess Luna.
                
Only a small voice from above. “To you, Twilight, I give this small dream as a token of our friendship… and for the grief you must have also felt. But I am not ready to return. Not yet.” Then more quietly, “I wish you well.”
                
Twilight was about to add something more—something to try and pry Luna back to the world—but the taste of dry paper filled her senses a little too much to try and wade back there.
                
“Gah!”
                
She unstuck the edge of a page from her tongue and pushed the large tome across the table. She had fallen asleep over her books again, which was becoming quite the common occurrence as of late. Only this time she had actually dreamed. She must have been the only one in who knows how many nights…
                
“Doesn’t your neck ever get sore?” Spike popped his head out from the kitchen, a whisk and a bowl in the crook of one arm. “You want blueberries or apples in your pancakes?”
                
Twilight took a few more breaths to try and awaken her other senses. Also to make sure what she had just planned on doing still sounded somewhat sane in her head.
                
She said, “Keep it in the fridge ‘til later, Spike. There’s something I need to do in Canterlot before I lose my nerve.”
                
Spike stopped his hasty mixing. “Something new?”
                
Carefully Twilight viewed the remainder of her small cabin, with its many bookshelves and tables and couches and delicate pieces of art. And as it had always been, there was still that one item she would not allow vacancy. Flatly, she said, “No. Something I should have done a long time ago.”
 

2


 

Shining Armor, for what felt like the third time in as many days, sat transfixed upon the Crystal Heart he kept hidden in the deep recesses of his Empire. Still it was—perfect, untouched, unburdened. Still it sat—useless, colorless. Or was that only his objective musings?
                
“I thought I’d find you here.”
                
Shining turned to find Princess Cadence leaning against the doorframe, peering in as though she were happy to see him. Although it didn’t take much to know that just below the surface of that smile, was an unhealthy supply of worry.
                
“I’m sorry, Cadence,” he replied in a huff, “I keep on coming down here expecting something new to jump out at me and every time I do… it’s only the same. Same Crystal Heart as before.” He got up and trotted steadily toward her, head down. “Same useless Crystal Heart that didn’t do anything for anyone in this city…”
                
Cadence came forward and wrapped a leg around his neck. “Sombra came back as something we could never have been ready for, Shining. There was nothing any of us could do. While I was inside protecting the Crystal Heart, you were out there, fighting for the life of every pony in Equestria.”
                
Shining shook his head slowly. “But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.”
                
Cadence left him and went closer to the Heart. She gave it a light tap, causing it to spin gently around on the pedestal. “It does seem less vibrant than it used to be. Maybe the hearts of the Crystal ponies are not as strong as they once were. Maybe there is more we should be doing for them.”
                
Shining stopped near the doorway, his head still facing the floor. “I wish I could believe that, Cadence. That perhaps a big festival is all it’ll take to fix this… but something still isn’t right. And I intend to find out.”
                
Without another word he departed to start the long upward journey to the surface of the Empire, leaving Cadence with an odd chill that she just couldn’t shake away.
 

3


 

Rainbow Dash had the weirdest sense of déjà vu as she stood outside the closed classroom door. She was hesitating again—possibly worse—than when she went to visit Spitfire all those months ago. But hadn’t she been looking forward to this? Hadn’t she—
                
Or had all this been Soarin’s idea, flipped and spun and haggled until it was somehow mine?
                
Now she couldn’t remember at all. She only knew she didn’t want to open that door.
                
Roughly two weeks following the battle at the Empire, higher level dignitaries had paid the Dash household an impromptu visit. They wanted to see Soarin—about some very important and urgent matters.
                
“This could be the start of something big,” he had exclaimed to her, hours after they had left Soarin alone. “They want us to rebuild—start again!”
                
Soarin, who had been stuck in a perpetually large cloud of depression since the horrendous collapse of the Wonderbolts along with sixty-percent of its ranks, had appeared almost overjoyed following their meeting. More than anything, Rainbow did not want to take that away. Even through it all, she still loved to see him smile.
                 
The officials that had made the house call told Soarin that since a new threat could perchance crop up at any time, a new Wonderbolts academy had been increasingly necessary. Since Spitfire had fallen in battle, that left Soarin as the most experienced member remaining. It would be a lot of work, but it would serve a far grander purpose. To all this Soarin had readily agreed, not exactly focusing on just how much work it might entirely entail.
                
“And we’re going to call it ‘Spitfire’s Wonderbolts Academy’!”
                
Soarin had been pacing around her hospital room since galloping in, his mouth flapping away as though trapped in a wind cyclone.
                
“You wouldn’t believe it, Rainbow, already enrollment is the highest it’s been in decades. Ever since word’s spread about the Wonderbolts defending the Empire, every flier in Equestria wants to be a part of it.” He paused for a brief moment. “It doesn’t mean that we’ll be letting everyone in, but just that notion alone is wonderful.”
                
He stopped again, and this time didn’t continue until he was only a few steps from her bed. He couldn’t quite meet her eyes.
                
“That also means we’re going to need more teachers, along with the students. We still have a handful from before, but not nearly enough. I would teach a course, but… I’m going to be swamped as it is.” He let it hang in the air. “Would you consider teaching again?”
                
Rainbow had hardly heard the question when an answer had already found itself logged in her head. The first moment she could, her mouth shot open, answer in tow. But the look on her husband’s face dried whatever blunt answer she had originally fathomed.
                
Instead she said, “I’ll… think about it.”
                
And sadly that was enough to make Soarin smile all over again; and enough to fill Rainbow’s guts with both feelings of dread and anxiety. But it would be months before things could start up again. She still had time. She still had loads of—
                
And now she was here. Standing outside her first class. Even right through the door she could hear the sounds of dozens of pegasi talking and writing and lightly flapping their wings. They were all waiting. They were all waiting for her and her alone.
                
It was all too much. So she turned to get away from it.
                
“Going somewhere?”
                
In her haste to spin and trot off, Rainbow had nearly collided with Soarin, who had been patiently standing idle behind her. He was wearing his new uniform and to her looked like a filly playing dress up. She truly had no idea he was standing right there the entire time.
                
But of COURSE he’d be here, she grumbled internally. There was never a CHANCE he’d let you get out of this!

Rainbow averted his gaze. “Oh, you know. Just going to go grab some water before the big first lesson. You probably don’t need to stand around and wait. You more than likely have some important… documents to sign or whatnot.”
                
Rainbow made to move away but a hooked leg around her made her come to a halt. “I may have documents,” he said sternly, “but those can wait. What’s going on here, Rainbow? I thought you wanted to do this? You had been preparing for weeks on lesson plans. You even gave the kids a private lesson just for practice! You’re not getting cold hooves are you? You’ve always liked the spotlight in some way.”
                
Overwhelmingly she wanted away from all this—away from all this right now.
                
“Well maybe I am getting cold hooves! Maybe I don’t dig the spotlight as much as others think! Maybe I’m just not that egotistical anymore!”
                
With that said, she stormed ahead, not exactly sure of where she was going but just wanting to move all the same. The only problem was that Soarin still had both wings, and could supersede her simply by flying right over her and cutting her off.
                
“I don’t believe that for a second, Rainbow. When you were part of the Wonderbolts, you loved to teach. And I just can’t believe at a time like this—when I need you this badly—you’d make me believe talking in front of a few dozen ponies is what’s bothering you. What’s really going on?”
                
A few tense moments passed and not a word was said. Rainbow would not meet his eyes even though she felt them nearly burn into her. Then he added matter-of-factly, “You know how fast your class enrollment filled up, Rainbow? How many ponies want to hear from you? Learn from you? Not to stroke your ego anymore than it needs to, but some pegasi think you’re some sort of legend in the art of flying. Plus, all the stories of all the things you and your friends did years ago.” He paused, trying to think of the best way to cap what he was getting at. “All I’m saying is ponies really do want to hear from you. If you’re worried about them not liking you, I can’t see that being a problem. No way.”
                
Since the start of their discussion, Rainbow had felt something irritating both eyes. Now it had only gotten worse.
                
She brought her head back up as the first few tears fell. “Please don’t make me go in there,” she quivered. “I don’t want to go in there, not like this. How much respect could a pegasus possibly get when they can’t even fly? I must have been kidding myself by coming here.” She shook her head from side to side. “I’m sorry, Soarin, but this was a mistake. Flying lessons from someone who can’t even get off the ground. They must all think it’s a joke. That’s why their in there now.”
                
Already Soarin was shaking his head in answer, although it would do little to sway her. “Everyone knows what happened to you, Rainbow. And you’ve only gotten more respect for it. You’re a hero! You tried to take on Sombra by yourself when no one else would! That does not make you weak, at all. That does not…”
                
When he finally took it to heart that his words had become nothing but bits of noise, he came to a stop. He said softly, “If you want to go, then go. I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do.”
                
Without another word, Rainbow ran passed him and out the doors, all the while promising herself that an act of bravery was the dumbest thing a pony could ever do, when all it ever seemed to lead to was nothing but misery and sorrow.
 

4


 

“How did you know you’d be able to raise the sun and the moon? Had you ever tried it before all this?”
                
Twilight was walking with Discord along the many rows of hedges and flowers in the Canterlot gardens. It would have been a near idyllic scene, if not for the mismatched draconequus that stuck out like a blood stain on a perfectly white backdrop.
                
Discord sighed. “No. Not really. It was never something that interested me, honestly. And the only reason I ever tried it was because everyone was getting so sick of the constant midday look. I thought it was fine… but I guess some ponies like that whole day night thing.”
                
Twilight giggled lightly. She was feeling a tad uneasy and was trying to make any conversation between the pair proceed as smoothly as possible. Sadly, awkwardness and Twilight always tended to travel hoof in hoof.
                
“Any news on Princess Luna?” Discord asked.
                
“Nothing, really,” she said. “When she left she took every last dream with her, and now no one gets to dream about anything at all. I had a small one just last night, but I think that was more a favor than anything. I don’t think she’s ready to return.”
                
“But you think she will return?” Discord raised an inquisitive brow.
                
“I think”—she hesitated—“given time she will. I just have no way of telling how long. It’s something I can’t possibly understand… losing someone so close to you after so many years.”
                
As the realization of what she’d just said finally hit her, Twilight’s pupils narrowed and she regarded him with a warped smile.
                
“I’m sorry, Discord. I know you must be feeling close to the same way with Celestia’s passing. I didn’t mean anything from what I’d just said.”
                
He waved a hand in the air. “No harm, Twilight. I have done my grieving for Celestia—I’ve also tried to keep myself busy, to help my mind cease from wandering. But truly, I do miss her, as I’m sure you do, too.”
                
Twilight closed her eyes and agreed. It was bizarre how often she could forget that her single most important teacher was gone and never coming back. Having been apart for so long, and since the sun and the moon were continuing to rotate as they should’ve been, more often than not she found herself thinking everything was just as it was before. And every time she remembered the truth of it all it was like opening a scarcely healed scar.
                
She hesitated before her next question. “How long were you and Celestia seeing each other before the Empire happened? I hadn’t the slightest idea you two even had feeling for each other.”
                
Discord looked a bit ruffled by the query. “Oh, it was an on and off again sort of thing—kind of hard to explain. We had courted centuries ago, before my first imprisonment in stone. After all that Tirek nastiness, some feelings came back and we became all the happier for it.”
                
“Never in her letters did she mention she was seeing you… or that she had any attachments to anyone, really.”
                
“But does that really shock you, Twilight,” he said smoothly. “Celestia was a big keeper of secrets, and I could only imagine her love life would have been the biggest secret of them all. Even when every eye in all the land was focused on her every little movement, she still liked to keep her little secrets tucked away. I guess I must have been one of them.”
                
A little forlorn, Twilight added, “It makes sense… I only thought her and I were a little closer than that. And since she already told me in her letters about what you were up to in Canterlot, I thought perhaps she would have included your relationship in there as well. But I guess that’s just getting a little nosey, isn’t it?”
                
The draconequus nodded briskly. “Yes. Yes it is.”
                
They reached a little white bench and Discord motioned over to it. He patted the section beside him and Twilight sat down, all at once enjoying the gentle breeze and the fresh smell of Canterlot’s expansive garden, but also hating what topic was surely to follow. Although it was the only reason she was there.
                
“Alright Twilight,” he said lightly, “enough about the skeletons in my closet—my closet’s packed enough as is—what is it that’s troubling you? You did come all the way here for a reason, didn’t you?”
                
“I did,” she said without much conviction, “but now that I’m here it only seems that much sillier and that much more… ridiculous. But at the same time if I don’t ask then I’ll only go home and wonder about why I just didn’t ask and then—”
                
“Sorry to interject, Twilight,” he cut in. “But you’re going all Twilight on me now.”
                
A small smile dotted her face. “Yeah, I do that sometimes.” She took a breath to start anew. “You remember when I became an alicorn?”
                
“Yes. I wasn’t around for the unveiling, but I remember hearing about it. And then obviously I saw all this.” He picked up one of her wings like some endangered animal.
                
“Well, all that happened just a few months after we reformed you, and…”
                
She shot him a hurried glance. “I mean, after we befriended you.”
                
Discord rolled his eyes. “Tomato—tomatoe.”
                
“Anyway,” she continued, “long story short, I recall Celestia wanted to use your magic for some reason, although she never specifically said how or why. And so I thought… that perhaps you had something to do with these.” She flicked up both wings, eyeing them both without much interest.
                
For the most part Discord was a creature of exaggerated movements. After her request, she was more than a little alarmed to find him nearly stock still on the bench, the only movement being his eyes, which had instantly become very wide very fast.
                
“Oh… I… don’t have any…” he began to sputter.
                
Twilight gasped. “So you did have something to do with it!”
                
“I’m not saying that at all, Twilight!”
                
“But you kind of are! I can tell, Discord!”
                
Discord loosened his long body until he was nearly draped over the bench. While his head nearly touched the ground behind his seat, he mumbled, “I might have had a little to do with what happened.”
                
And that was it. That was all it took.
                
Every fear and every insecurity that had been panging her on that far too long trip over had vanished like smoke. Instantly, Twilight could see everything she would do once it was gone. Everything she would experience and the ponies she would want to see again. She had waited long enough—possibly too long, perhaps—but now it would all come to an end. Now she could be normal again. Now she could look at herself in the mirror without wanting to smash it in turn. Oh why had she waited so long? she wanted to scream. When the answer was standing right in front of her this whole time?
                
She nearly ground both forelegs into his chest. “Oh please Discord, oh please! I don’t want this anymore! I don’t want to live forever while I can’t enjoy any of it! There’s just… too much I didn’t know. Too much I had no way of knowing.” And now the tears had found her, but she let them come. “It’s not fair, Discord. I didn’t start out like this—I didn’t start out immortal. I never asked for this. I was normal. I was going to live and I was going to die with my friends—I was going to be as normal as the rest of them, along with our little adventures, which was fine! And now I only have a select few to hold onto—the ones that would never leave me. But now who’s left, Discord? Celestia’s gone! Luna’s vanished! Now there are only a few of us left anymore and you were the ones that were never supposed to go away! I needed them, Discord. As greedy as it sounds. I…” She swallowed back another thick chunk of what she had wanted to say. She knew she had to get to the point before she blubbered away to nothingness. “I don’t want to be an alicorn anymore, Discord. If you need to take the wings back, that’s fine, but I can’t live forever if this is all there is—age and death and the inability to hold onto anything forever.”
                 
Mere inches from his face, Twilight quivered as her eyes swam in a sea of water. More than a few times Discord opened his mouth in an attempt at speech, but found any words hard to come by.
                
“I can’t take away a gift I did not give you, Twilight,” he said slowly. “I gave you your wings, with a spell that even I can’t reverse. Your immortality was given to you by Celestia, due to all the deeds you’ve done for Equestria. If it could have been reversed, I have no idea. Those secrets died with her, I’m afraid.”
                
A cold numbness edged its way throughout Twilight’s body. She watched as she removed herself from Discord’s chest and sat solemnly back down on the bench while she felt none of it at all. Her eyes had stopped running but she made no effort to clean up her face. Suddenly the idea of moving at all seemed like too much an ordeal.
                
And that’s that, she thought distantly. The last door closes and I live on… forever.
                
An eagle’s claw with a tissue floated into her vision. Gently it wiped away her tears, before wrapping itself around her shoulder. He pulled her in close.
                
“You need to know that Celestia only did what she did because she thought it would better all of Equestria. She did not do it to hurt you, or change you, only to better help everyone. Even now you are her best student, having saved the world countless times already. As I’m currently discovering with my new duties in this land, it’s that sometimes we need to live for more than just ourselves, as odd as it might sound for someone like me to say.”
                
Twilight listened and nodded against him. Any energy she might have had to perhaps interject had dissipated while she had made her original speech.
                
“At some point in the future, Twilight, you will look back at this hard time and realize the lessons it has taught you. No one is ever done learning, I think. Consider myself and friendship. Right?” Discord rose from the bench to face the alicorn. “Now let’s not ruin this little visit by ending it here! Let’s do something fun!”
                
Twilight viewed him dryly for a while, before eventually caving in. How many immortal friends did she have left, anyway?

“Sure,” she said.

5


 

Having turned down Discord’s original offer of flying through a sky of cotton candy clouds or a giant chess game with enchanted pieces, Twilight settled on the simplest choice of ice cream from a local vendor. While she chose strawberry, Discord spent close to ten minutes creating a bowling ball-sized ice cream scoop that somehow changed flavors the deeper you went. It was like a mini diorama leading to the center of the earth.
                
“One thing I still don’t understand after everything is how Sombra could have known where I was,” she said, while carelessly munching on her remaining cone.
                
Discord gave her a bland expression. “I thought we were talking of happier times, Twilight.”
                
“I want to, but it still bugs me. A lot. Luna and I were effortlessly sidetracked away from the largest battle in millennia, and how it all happened is still lost on me. It also doesn’t seem like something Sombra would do. He was blunter with his actions. This took some planning… or at least some finesse.”
                
“Did you know he also turned into a dragon?” Discord said thickly, between very large mouthfuls of every-color ice cream. “He played a stronger game this time around. No one knew what to expect. If you’re thinking of blaming yourself, I wouldn’t Twilight. No one can predict everything.”
                
Twilight set down the remainder of her cone. “I don’t… or I try not to. But a little part of me always wonders if he had an accomplice or not—someone helping him with the smaller details.”
                
“You ever met the pony in question?”
                
“Well, sort of, I guess,” she answered awkwardly.
                
“Really?”
                
She thought again. “I guess he was more like smoke when I saw him, so…”
                
“So then you didn’t really meet him,” Discord finished. “I did. A little too much, honestly. But I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that he seemed like a one-pony show. He was a King remember. Kings don’t like to share anything.”
                
Twilight nodded, then brightened. She smiled. “What about ‘Lords’?”
                
Discord smiled back. “Oh, we share. From time to time. You want a bite of my ice cream?” He still had close to half a ball left.
                
She shook her head. “I think I’ve had my fill for today. I’d better—”
                
“Lord Discord! Lord Discord!”
                
An out of breath guard had just entered their establishment, giving a hurried salute as the little bell above the entrance jingled away.
                
Discord cocked his head. “What is it? Don’t you know this is my daily scheduled ice cream time?”
                
The guard blanched. “It… it is?”
                
“That was a joke—continue on.” Discord chewed as he spoke.
                
“There’s a representative here from the Crystal Empire. He says it’s urgent he speak with you.”
                
He gave a sour eye to Twilight. “Don’t they all say that?” Then he stood, while snapping his leftovers into a white takeaway bag. “I’m sorry we must conclude on such a blunt note, Twilight, but business is business. Let me know how your research goes, my dear. And good luck.”
                
With another snap of his fingers, Discord disappeared and the guard that had just entered vacated swiftly. Soon following, Twilight left as well, once again not feeling all that much better or worse from her short visit of Canterlot.
                
Although more than a few plaguing questions had somehow found their way into the back of her mind.
 

6


 

Since entering Discord’s large and lush office, Shining Armor had been intently staring at a wall clock—one where the numbers spun around while the arrows stayed where they were. For only a few seconds could he watch, before the sight alone made him dizzy. After a time he instead tried to focus on the task at hoof… and just how he’d go about doing it.
                
This wasn’t going to be easy.
                
“Shining Armor! How good of you to drop in.”
                
The draconequus had manifested himself behind his desk, mismatched feet already crossed over the top. Was he trying to spook him? Or only appear casual in front of his guest?
                
“Discord,” he greeted plainly. “I guess you heard I’d arrived.”
                
“I did indeed, Shining! And then I came right over. What is it you need this time? More of my workers to help piece together your little Empire?”
                
Shining got off his seat and walked towards the desk. As he got closer, Discord’s complete lack of care seemed to edge away just a bit.
                
Shining said, “No. Not this time. By the way, the Empire isn’t little and it’s doing just fine on its own. We’ve made a lot of recovery since Sombra’s attack. You were there, Discord. I’m sure you remember it all.”
                
“You know they call me ‘Lord’ now,” he said, ignoring most of what he’d said.
                
“I do.”
                
A length of inactivity spun out, until Discord put both arms behind his back and broke the silence. “So what is it you want? I’m kinda’ busy these days.”
                
Shining regarded him dryly. “Then you’ll be happy to know I only have one question in mind.”
                
“That being?”
                
“What you can tell me about the Crystal Heart.”
                
Discord huffed annoyingly. “Really? This again? So since your little Heart didn’t save the day in the end against Sombra it’s now somehow all my fault? Or is it only because I’m in a minor position of power now that you think you can unload all your troubles onto me? Is that how being a leader to thousands works? They blame you and you just take it?”
                
And all along this little outburst, Shining held that same look of mild curiosity. It had been such a simple question he had asked, so why was he getting so defensive about it so fast?
                
“I just wanted to grasp how much you knew about it, Discord. That’s all. Most ponies know of its existence, but that doesn’t mean they know every last detail about it. Unlike you. You even knew where it was kept in the Empire basements.”
                  
Discord appeared as though he were gnawing on something quite nasty and bitter. “Yes… and?”
                
“You know how many ponies know of its location? Four—including you.”
                
“Do I get some sort of membership card?”
                
“You know how badly Sombra wanted back that Heart, Discord? You know what he would’ve done just to get it back?”
                
“Asked nicely?”

Shining could quickly tell Discord was loosing interest.
                
“Sombra came back as something no one could expect. He had never been as powerful as he was on that day. So you know what I believe, Discord? I believe someone took the Heart and somehow gave it to him. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but the list of suspects is surprisingly short. I also don’t think for a single second that the Heart I have at my Empire is the real thing. No way. You couldn’t even get the color right.”
                
Discord’s annoyed and worn expression changed to one of deep loathing. As he spoke he nearly snarled. “You DARE to insinuate that I helped Sombra destroy the Empire? Need I REMIND you of who exactly SAVED your sorry little Crystal city?”
                
Discord was now standing tall and rigid behind his desk, both fists closed tight and visibly shaking. Shining, as tough as it was, had remained stationary and unmoving throughout this little tantrum.
                
“No one saw you defeat him, Discord. All anyone witnessed was you, Celestia, and Sombra enter the Tower together, and somehow at the end of it all you were the only one that walked away. It became your word against everyone else’s. Who’s to say what really happened in there?”
                  
Slowly the draconequus sat back down and gave the stallion a piercing stare. He said haltingly, “You better choose your next few words carefully, Shining Armor. I am not the same creature you might have been able to insult in the past, nor claim to be a murderer.”
                
Shining swallowed thickly. He asked, “Did you take the Crystal Heart from the Empire?”
                
Rather than saying anything to the contrary, Discord instead lost what little resolve he had left. A few beads of sweat had recently dotted his brow, and even his originally clenched and sneering jaw seemed to slacken considerably.
                
Could Shining have been actually getting to him?
                
Shining continued without an answer. “Did you use it to somehow help King Sombra?”
                
Discord’s pupils shrunk and he began to quiver lightly. It was almost as scary as when he was mad.
                
Shining licked his lips before his last question. “Did you aid Sombra in killing Princess Celestia?”
                
And that was when the flood began.
                
Bringing an arm to cover both eyes, Discord openly wept and fell heavily to his desk. Long and loud brays of anguish soon followed and his entire body quaked with odd spasms. Shining, meanwhile, could only stand and watch with horrific fascination at just what exactly was going on. But this still didn’t completely answer—
                
“I did it!” Discord yelled between overwrought sobs. “Yes, it was me! I helped Sombra! I stole the Heart! And I got Celestia killed!” Then he wept all the harder.
                
As much as Shining wanted to smile at his own—unknown to him—skills of interrogation (could he even consider this an interrogation?) all he felt at the time was an overwhelming heat along his face. The largest secret in possibly all of Equestria had just been revealed to him and him alone. He had to act accordingly. He had to do something. Actually, a lot of things.
                
“Discord! Stop your crying. It won’t—”
                
But that was when Discord—still in mid-anguish—slithered over his desk and latched both hands onto the front of his uniform. Once there he stared up at the stallion, eyes swimming in tears and a thin line of snot dangling from his nose.
                
“Celestia wasn’t supposed to die! She wasn’t!” he pleaded, in that horrible out-of-character voice. “I only wanted to see what would happen, honestly I did! It was never supposed to go as far as that!”
                
Shining took a few steps back in an attempt to knock the crying and shuddering creature away. Still he held on tight.
                
Shining said with added force, “It doesn’t matter how you feel, Discord. You will pay for your crimes. You’ve gone too—”
                
Somehow Discord’s grotesque face got even closer to him. “You can’t tell them, Shining! You just can’t! They’ll tear me apart if they knew what happened! No, even worse! They’ll tear me apart and then turn me to stone! Shining, no, no, no you can’t! That wouldn’t be like you! You’re the good guy in times like these!”
                
“I… You should have thought…” Shining needed to get away from that all consuming, tear drenched face. He also needed to know one last thing while the timing seemed right. “What did you do with the Heart? Where did you put it?”
                
Discord finally stopped balling for a moment. “I can’t tell you,” he said, before violently shaking his head. “They can’t know I did that too!”
                
Shining did not turn away. “Where is it?”
                
“I… can’t…” but even Discord couldn’t control his ever moving eyes, which more than once flickered in the direction of his desk.
                
With a hard shove Shining flung him to the floor and trotted around his desk, sidling along a bookcase to get around its ludicrous size. Once around, he pointed at the only door on that side of the room—a door a few feet smaller than most.
                
He asked thickly, “Have you been keeping the Crystal Heart in here the whole time, Discord?”
                
Cradled on the floor, Discord held out a hand to him. “Please don’t open that! If anyone finds out they’ll never trust me again!”
                
Shining put a hoof on the doorknob. “You should have thought about that before—” But that was when something else entirely grabbed his hoof.
                
Quickly he glanced at the knob—once a simple brown oval, now a clutching eagle’s claw wrapped tight around his hoof. Before he could get another word out it yanked him through the doorway, releasing his hoof at the last moment to send him sputtering away.
                
Shining’s first thought was that he’d lost his vision, for all he saw was white on top of white. But the sudden cold that bit at every exposed part of him foretold what little else needed to be explained.
                
Still splayed out rather ungracefully in a mound of snow, Shining could only watch as the steady and sure body of Discord slid into the frame of the door—an odd rectangular object in a vast expanse of white. Any tears that he might have shed only seconds ago had all but disappeared.
                
He yelled above the wind, “I can only hope Cadence’s next husband isn’t quite so gullible.” He grabbed the knob on the door. “Ariva derchi, Shiny! Say hello for me to some of your guards, should you happen to come across them!”
                
Then with a hurried laugh he slammed the door, causing it to disappear instantly.
                
And up until then Shining had thought it had been going so well…