High atop the outer wall of Canterlot, Shining Armor surveyed the grand valley far below.

To the distant south, almost at the horizon, he saw the green sliver of the Everfree Forest, clouds rolling ominously on it’s western edge. The village of Ponyville was hiding somewhere in between Shining and that forest, and in that village was Twilight Sparkle. Somewhere in between Twilight and Shining was Celestia, running away from the insanity that Canterlot had become. In between Celestia and Shining were hundreds of kilometers of forest and isolated villages, were nopony would even think to look for him if he ran.

To the east was the Unicorn Mountains. Nestled amongst its peaks were the strongholds of a dozen disruptive dynasties with the wealth and power to cause mayhem across the West. He could curling trails of smoke on the southern slope and wondered if it could be an army that was already on the march. He looked past the norther slope to see, hanging just above the snowy mounts, the pegasus city of Cloudsdale, surrounded by a hundred smaller pinprick points. Was Canterlot's navy getting ready for trouble as well?

Shining’s view of the north was blocked by the spiraling keep of Canterlot Castle, but he knew that all that lay beyond were endless tracts of plain and forest. Beyond that was the icy tundra, braced by the impenetrable peaks and vale of the frozen north. That long forsaken continent was once the homeland to ponykind. Now it was empty, laid to waste by windigos for millennia.

And under the last cardinal direction, east, was the Mountain, and the city of Canterlot. Shining felt nothing but revulsion for Canterlot now, for the ponies who would turn the capital of the sun princess into a carnival. He turned to look into the city, and with the sun warming his back he imagined that he was Celestia, deigning to notice the worthless denizens. Even now they were quarreling, presuming to divy up a nation that was not theirs.

He imagined himself burning them all, making them pay for their arrogance and hubris. The flames, purging the filth and grime of a century of complacency, set to an orchestra. Yes, Celestia liked the orchestra. Something haunting, as the city turned red, then black, then collapsed into ash. And he would laugh and laugh, and then turn his back to the foul schemers, and plan a new world to rule.

A hoof pulled on Shining’s shoulder, snapping him back to reality. Without have realized it, Shining had moved right to the edge of the wall, and leaned over. The hoof pulled him back from the sixty hoof drop.

“I told Prosser once that politics wouldn’t matter, because Celestia would rise up from the throne and spear her sunfire through the head of each and every traitor. Paraphrased, of course.” Fancy Pants’s voice was far deeper than it should have been, and would have more appropriately come from a hulking dragon. Then again, it was out of a draconic victim that his new vocal chords had been ripped.

“Does your new body give you telepathy?” Shining nickered as he brushed his shoulder were Fancy Pant’s had grabbed him.

“I still have eyes.” Fancy Pants replied knowingly. “And my brain. It’s not hard to read that expression, were a pony feels a righteous anger inside themselves. Alas, I’ve seen it lead a fool or two to their deaths. It led me to my death.”

“And death give you inscrutable wisdom? Hmm, no, I think you always were a holier-than-thou wiseass.” Shining glared.

“I meant no ofence. I just naturally slipped into an advisory role.” Fancy Pants shied slightly. “It’s one of my talents in life.”

But what about in afterlife? Though he did not say it, Shining Armor thought darkly of the mark gracing Fancy Pants’s flank. Without it, he was just a pegasus corpse, with the head and appendages of a unicorn hanging off like parasites. But with it, Fancy Pants was alive, with a soul and the magic that drives the consciousness of a mortal being. Shining wondered what would happen if he tore off that mark. Would Fancy Pants revert, falling again into the abyssal death of a victim of nightmares?

“Well don’t worry about me endangering myself.” Shining said. “When I said we’re leaving, I meant it.” With that, Shining started towards the nearest tower, and stairs down to the street.

“I will see you at the castle then.” Fancy Pants bowed. When Shining disappeared into the tower, he murmured in hushed tones. “That is, if I can refrain from being a fool.”

Behind him, Admiral Rain Gnash’s Wonderbolts, backed up by city guards, had set up a little camp, as if they were vacationing in the woods. In front of him, in the barricaded entrance to Canterlot Castle, was a selection of fanatics in pilfered IHG armor. In about twenty seconds, right where Manered was standing, there would be a battle.

“This is your last chance!” A blue Wonderbolt Stallion was bellowing. “Let in a negotiator or we will storm the castle!”

“Either be happy talking from there, or wait for the Estates!” A unicorn yelled back from one of the higher floors. “Lord Blackhorn has no time for you winged vermin!”

“These Canterlot types, always hiding behind their peons.” The wonderbolt chuckled.

“Quit your yapping Soarin and rally the mares!” An orange mare in Wonderbolt regalia entered the scene. “You ponies in the square! Clear out!”

The remaining gawkers galloped into the adjoining alleys. Manered glanced back at the castle before scurrying over to the pegasus barracade. Soarin pulled away part of rubbish wall with a nod. “Captain, there's a monk come in here!”

Spitfire was changing into her heavy armor. “Yeah? What do you want, brother?”

Manered shifted from hoof to hoof nervously. “Please, I need to get into the castle! I have an urgent message for Princess Cadence, and they won’t let me in until you back off!”

The Spitfire gave Manered a quizzical look. “Brother, whatever you have for the Junior Princess, I’m sure it can wait. In case you hadn’t noticed, the seat of Equestria has been occupied by a coterie of racists. Once we clear them out and restore order to the city, you can have free reign.”

Manered groaned. “Yes, they’re bigots, but the lawful visier of Equestria let them in! It’s Lord Seacrest’s prerogative to keep ponies out, and until Celestia formally sacks him, you’ll be attacking the legitimate government!”

“Now listen here!” The Spitfire yelled. “I'm not even supposed to be here right now. I'm supposed to be babysitting a ne'er-do-well noblemare and her pack of gits. If only I could bloody find her. But now because my good friend has a problem he asked me to help with, I'm here. Gods damn it if it seemed like I'm doing more work I'm ordered not to do than I'm order to do."

"Buck off. I'm letting the Bolts get into a fight without me anyhow, especially not with this Canterlot trash." She turned back to Manered. "So you see, I want to get this mess cleaned up."

Spitfire, finished with dressing, began tightening the straps of her barding. “The Admiral would never listen to what I have to say. She has her own agenda, so saving Equestria will have to be done on my personal time. Usually I carry out orders that includes a buckton of senseless violence. Today, it's just for fun. So I’m going to attack Canterlot Castle, be it as it may be occupied by a completely legal militia permissibly allowed in by the legal government, and murder all the racist bastards. Then the negotiator goes in, which was all I was asking for in the first place.”

“Then I see that we are both compelled by forces beyond our control.” Manered sighed. “I can’t wait, unfortunately. I must go. I’m needed elsewhere, and there is a pony I must see.”

The last thing Spitfire had was her helm, which she slipped on. She messed with it for a second, making sure her mane wasn’t tangled underneath. “Hey if you have that message, I can give it to the Junior Princess if I see her.”

Manered's mind swam with possible messages succinct enough to be remembered. Since becoming a monk he had turned his emotions into indulgences he could do without. He was supposed to be a pony of faith, whose only task was to chart the heavens. But in the face of impending doom, all of that felt moot. He'd wanted to pour his heart out to Cadence, ask her if it was okay to be so shaken in his faith and confidence of Celestia. Now he was having to do it though an unreliable messenger.
Tell her that our calculations were wrong, that the sun is deviating from it’s path even further, and that the Summer Sun is imminent. Tell her that the dimming of the sun will soon be noticeable, and panic that could cause would be unparalleled. Tell her that the moon was going off course as well, and was accelerating to unprecedented speeds and threatening a solar eclipse. In so many words, tell her that everything is coming to an end.

“Tell her goodbye for me.” Manered pushed the cowl of his robe over his head, and cantered out of the makeshift camp into an alley.

Moments later, the screams began to start, as the Wonderbolts charged against the barricades. At every floor, the armored pegasi blasted through the windows and began hacking indiscriminately. But before they reached the ground level barricade, it exploded outwards in a swarm of shrapnel. Spitfire dived to the ground as magical fireballs sailed into the camp. The unicorns were putting up a stiff resistance.

Shaking off the dust, Spitfire charged forward. The first fireball directed against her was slow moving, and she easily jumped and glided over it. The second missed, and incinerated a tile right as her hoof left it. The third impacted her squarely on her chest, exploding into a sphere of flames. Howling with anger, Spitfire exited the fireball and collided with the caster at full speed. She rolled over him like so much grass in a field.

Spitfire used the last of her momentum to spin around and buck the next unicorn. The unicorn mare’s chest caved inwards, and she was flung against the side of the castle. The third unicorn tried to retreat into the open door, but Spitfire launched herself into the air, and came back down to the earth a moment later directly onto his back.

“Get in there, you craven bastards!” Spitfire yelled. At her command, the guardsponies charged across the plaza and into the castle. Brothers fought brothers, and no quarter was taken nor any mercy given. So it went for hours in a cloudless afternoon.

The power and passion of a singing voice was well known to the first ponies. The Canterlot Opera House stood on the spot of the first opera in Equestria, where the ancient lords would patronize the greatest singers in the world. What was once an affair for only the rich and powerful was now extended to anypony of at least middling birth. Thousands of ponies packed the hall every evening, and the young hopefuls battled it out against the established greats in a duel of sound, conforming, adapting, or daring against the composition, to the delight of the crowd.

Prosser’s box, though usually it took the name of Celestia’s box, was positioned in the choice location, from where a pony could see and hear the best. It was said that when Laurel Black redesigned the stage, she was personally contacted by Celestia to ensure the box’s primacy. The result was an unparalleled experience, and ponies sometimes claimed that they could hear the conductor’s joints creek.

Tonight was something somber, The King of Cobalt, one of the lesser known masterpieces. The stubborn king’s lands were dying, but instead of migrating, he cursed the skies and led his kingdom into a mountain. Naturally, this did nothing to stop the starvation of his ponies, so Cobalt kept going, deeper and deeper, until he alone remained. He arrived, alone, having survived all of his family and subjects, at a chasm of Tartarus. The old king tried to turn back, but the bones of his kingdom blocked him. He died embracing a wilting seedling, whose roots rejected the ashy wasteland.

“II fully expected you to be sitting there with Twilight Velvet in one hoof, Celestia in the other, and Seacrest Sabonord serving as your hoofrest.” A deep voice sounded from behind Prosser. The intruding pony, covered by a black cloak, took the seat adjacent.

“It would be beyond ironic to display that kind of arrogance at this particular opera.” Prosser chuckled.

““I saw the program guide. The King of Cobalt is not one I have seen before."

“I thought not.” Prosser condescended. “Have you even heard of the Grand Principality in the Riverland?”

“You have Lector the Proud to thank for that. King Cobalt was based on Lector, more or less.”

You scoundrel Skies! You scoundrel seas!
The land, forsaken! The earth, obeyed!
My sons and daughters, follow me!
Into darkness, I make my way!

“Tell me more.” The cloaked pony said. “I resolve to take every opportunity to learn.”

“An old friend crawls out of his grave to ask me about history?” Prosser leaned his head against a hoof casually. “As hauntings go, this has to be one of the most boring I’ve ever had the pleasure of receiving.”

Fancy Pants unclasped his cloak and shrugged it off onto the ground. Tucked under his hoof was a flint pistol, and it was cocked. “Regale me.”

“Sheesh. All you had to do was ask politely.” Prosser rolled his eyes. “Ahem. Lector was a warmonger, subjugating one of the largest principalities before Celestia I. Thought he marched gleaming and proud, his own lands suffered. Productivity plummeted and Lector had to buy from allies and clients to feed his armies. They profited, while the duchy spiraled into debt. His children gave their life in his wars, and by the end of it all, Lector was happy to be defeated and killed. That’s the key difference between Lecor and Cobalt. Cobalt is too proud to admit defeat, even when he’d marched directly into tartarus.”

“Yes well in real life, the villains are never so stupid as in fiction.” Fancy Pants set his pistol down. “Not to say that even in the context of the play Cobalt could be described as a villain.”

“No, just an idiot in power. Obviously Lector wasn’t a storybook villain either, just an ambitious screwup. Or are you trying to twist me into arguing against what I myself would wholeheartedly admit?” Prosser smirked.

“If you didn’t want to discuss history, you shouldn’t have brought it up.”

No paradise, my onetime home!
For the promise of great fortune.
Gold silver iron chrome,
new power beyond proportion!

“Your eyes are, how should I put this delicately, very creepy.” Prosser remarked. “Eech.”

Fancy Pants leaned back into the chair. “I wasn’t planning on being solicitous to social company anyway.”

“And your wings! They don't match each other let alone your coat! Didn’t they have any in white?”

“Fresh out, I’m afraid. White’s a rather popular color in Canterlot. They sold out immediately.”

“I must say though, I’m loving the little patch of scale under the chin.” Prosser’s effeminate voice twisted into an exaggerated Los Pegasus accent. “It’s a new and rugged look, that says ‘Watch out World, I’m dangerous.’ ”

“I breath fire too.” Fancy Pants scratched the seam between his original and new skin. “Or so I’m told. I’ll probably pick it up eventually."

The Gods above have judged us ill,
The gods below are calling!
When in our homes we’ve had our fill,
our fat does adventure forestalling.

“I never really understood that stanza.” Prosser said. “I’ve always imagined it’s about how the merchants are so morbidly obese, and all the starving peasants outside eat them for the energy to make the journey.”

“Morbid.” Fancy Pants watched the twirling dancers onstage. “It’s probably a metaphor.”

“Oh forgive my ignorance for the very notion of metaphor is beyond my intelligence.” Prosser said mockingly. “Now that you’re back to tell me these things I’ll never commit such a faux pas again.”

“I’m leaving tonight,” Pants digressed. “with Shining Armor and most of the IHG.”

I shall not say goodbye!
My departure I make terminal!
The assured land in my mind’s eye,
My triumph against nature shall be personal!

“Yeah I heard you. Shining is migrating instead of delving further into the mountain. Now ask me if I care.” Prosser said. “You were already dead, so coming back to life and immediately jiggling off doesn’t change much.”

“Not sure if you realized, but your new ass is HUGE!” Prosser exploded into a fit of laughter. “Haa! Ha Ha Ha! I sincerely hope you kept your original, hah, organ configuration, because that’s a mare’s tookus! Ha Ha!”

“I’m really not sure what I expected from this visit.” Fancy Pants sighed. “Some answers maybe.”

“Heh heh! But Pants, you didn’t even ask any questions!” Prosser was laughing into his cushion while fending off dirty looks from other opera attendees in the other boxes.

“I literally die and still it’s too much to expect a little sympathy from you.” Fancy Pants rubbed his forehead to stave off the impending headache. “So, do you know who did this to me?”

“Give me a moment.” Prosser took a deep breath, and let it out with the last of his laughter. “Okay then. Uhm, yeah, Phyte, aka the Mistress.”

“Phyte.” Fancy Pants repeated. “Sir Armor said as much, but he didn’t know who or what she was. Do you?

“You betchya.” Prosser’s accent became painfully rural. “She done been round these parts a long time, I hear says. Near enough a hundred ponies dead by her demands erry year.”

“Nice try, but a provincial pony wouldn’t say demands. Too many syllables.” Fancy Pants remarked.

“The point is, that she’s a parasite, in both the sociological and literal sense.” Prosser reverted to his normal Canterlot flout. “Stand up gal. It’s a real shame I never got to meet her.”

“Some of it you hear in the midnight hours. Some from friends of a friend of a friend. Some of it becuase Twilight Velvet told me.”

“What is to be kidding about? Lady Velvet is one of the best conniving bastards I’ve ever seen!” Prosser insisted. “I have come to believe that she is behind every single movement in the whole city. It's magical, how she has transformed us all into her pawns. If she cared to rule us, she would make a wonderful queen. Alas she has crafted us into a cannon, aimed at the heart of the idea of Equestria."

"Shining Armor was sparing on details. I know Princess Celestia departed some hours ago, and I know that the Blackhorn pretender has been abusing my seat of vizier."

"Seacrest did remarkably little of actual importance, considering how loudly the clammer was for him to be installed as vizier." Prosser said. "The thing is I don't think the viziership will exist long enough for Lightdowser to mix things up if he gets in."

“Duke Lightdowser is here?” Fancy Pants frowned. That was an important point Shining Armor hadn't mentioned. Pants may not have liked Sharphoof Lightdowser, but he respected the Duke as one of the finest statesponies in Equestria.

“Twilight Velvet invited him, so you can imagine his presence bodes ill for us all. Thinking about getting in touch after all these years?"

"He's probably happier thinking you're dead. He gave a pretty nice speech at your funeral.” Prosser shrugged dismissively.

The matted fear,
We soldier onwards.
My darkened steer
as souls grow stronger.

“Now this is the climax of the second act.” Prosser waved out over the stage. “King Cobalt just buried the first pony to die on his little cave pilgrimage. He swears on the grave that he will lead his kingdom to a better place. The ponies are disconcerned, but retain hope and faith. The whole subplot about the worthlessness of faith is something a lot of ponies miss.”

“It’s like performing for a child, always repeating what you hear.” Prosser mocked. “Yes, nightmare! You know, ancient soul eating demons, banished from our fair land for millennia. One came back and, unfortunately for you, she’s a psychopath, fairly high-functioning, who gets her jollies by smashing pony heads in. She and Velvet are in some sort of agreement where they kill mostly all of the ponies in Canterlot. Or something like that.”

Prosser continued. “Now mind you, Velvet didn’t want you dead, she just happened to be the best at exploiting that you sized hole in the universe. It’s really too bad that now that you’re back, you have no place here.”

“Indeed I don’t.” Fancy Pants grabbed his pistol and cloak, and rolled to his hooves. He trotted to the door of the booth. "You know all about being ostracized, don't you? How can I keep going when everything seems... Meaningless?"

"Oh come now, just because everything you ever cared about is collapsing around you doesn't mean you should give up." Prosser chided. "After all you'll be happy to know that the values of stability and harmony still live in the hearts of ponies; It's just not showing right now. Keep fighting for honor, justice, equality, Celestia, or whatever you wish. If you stop moving, you're liable to come apart at the seams."

“Until we meet again, whatever-you-name-was.” Prosser chucked and turned back to the play. On the stage, a formation of grizzled ponies followed their king as he forged his way through the darkness towards Tartarus.

See the fire burning brighter!
The tempered blade must be struck!
Our single voice, to harmonious choir!
Skin is blackened, mane uncut!

In the darkest places, can home be found?
Or silvered glass 'com fogged by breath?
Our drive to push through our bounds,
May show us only the home of death!

The meeting hall of the Black Horn Council had been significantly upgraded in the months between Twilight Velvet’s last visit. Blueblood had been making very obvious use of the money pouring in from the passionate and deluded ponies of Canterlot.

Molar on one shoulder, Sel Lech on the other, Velvet beelined for the titular prince’s new office. She burst through, almost knocking Aurthora Airy over with the door.

Blueblood looked up from the documents he was reviewing. He grinned. “Lady Velvet! Seeing you always stirs deep emotion within me.”

“Cut the bull. I ordered you to talk to Lightdowser about the Estates meeting, but I'm hearing that you didn't meet with him! Do you even know where he is?"

"Uh, the opera?" Blueblood shrugged. “I don't know. You can blame a lot of stuff on my but I never received that order. Do you know where he is?"

“Would you believe,” Velvet began to seethe. “he’s left the city, on his way to Ponyville in pursuit of Celestia?”

“Oh... That is really quite bad.” Blueblood laughed, and so did Aurthora Airy.

“Is this a joke to you?” Velvet’s voice was harsh. “All my planning is undercut! The Estates are imminent! Do you know what that means? We need and replacement since you let the choice meat get away!”

“Sorry, I'm laughing so it won't hurt as much when you start beating me." Blueblood wound down from his giggling. "But come on, Lady Velvet, Lightdowser was just a bonus, wasn't he? We already have eligible canidates in the city. You told me that for sure."

"I don't want to hear about the god damned list right now! I want to know why you ignored my message and didn't talk to Lightdowser! If he had heard my suggestion to move forward with the Estates he would have stayed to cement his power! So..." Velvet worked her jaw, more angry than anypony had ever seen her. "Why shouldn't I see to it that the line on your birth certificate that reads 'stallion' isn't erased and changed into 'geldling'?"

"I never received the message I swear!" Blueblood looked to Aurthora Airy. "Tell her! You've been with me since yesterday morning."

"He's right. We haven't seen anything from you all day, Lady Velvet/" Aurthora said humbly. "Who did you send the message with?"

Velvet's teethy grimace faded, replaced by a look of concern and, for a moment, fear. Twilight Velvet had overcome and capitalized on upsets before, so much so that her underlings wondered if she even knew the definition of defeat. But things had changed.
"I gave the massage to IIllor." She whispered. She looked to Sel Lech. "Sel you were there with us. She... She didn't give any indication of anything, did she?"

"Has anypony seen her since last night?" Velvet asked the room. Everypony shook their head.

"What is she up to." Velvet rubbed her chin. The infectious apprehension was making everypony nervous. "Why would she leave us here, on the even of our critical moment?"

"No. Impossible." Velvet shook her head vigorously. "She is fully on our side, even if something is carrying her away from us."

"Could it be that, in her eagerness, she's chasing after Celestia?" Sel offered. "Like a predator detected wounded prey, she's redying to strike."

"She has never given any indication of caring about Celestia. It must by something else." Velvet said bleakly. "But it hardly matters, whatever the case may be. She is lost to us for now, as she pursues some unknown goal. We will have to adapt."
She sighed. "The loss of Sharphoof and Risky Lightdowser more serious."

"OF course we do! What, do you think we should give up?” Velvet snapped, her frustration leeking into her words. "We have the records. We've poured over them, searching endlessly through the family histories to find the ponies with the highest likelyhoof of being suitable for our needs. All of this was done months and years ago. We know exactially what we need." She let out an angry sigh. "I will admit I was arrogant. I did not bring in back up canidates. With the Lightdowsers off, there are five candidate ponies in Canterlot.

“Then forget about the Lightdowsers!” Blueblood laughed in releif. “I mean, where's the problem? There’s five free ponies for the chopping block, and we only need three, if they're of the right tribe of course.”

“Incase you were too stupid to remember, we need ponies with very clear connections to the higher ones. That means direct descent, and that means successive generations of well born interbreeding. We need nobles, but not only that we need the nobles from houses of the most poweful and well connected houses of Equestria." She frowned. "Those who have protected their blood from commoner contamination unwittingly also protected their ancient inheritance from that ancient thing long since gone. We had beautiful plans, that would bring together what we needed. Now...”
With a swipe of her horn, Velvet crushed Blueblood’s desk against the floor. In futile rage she picked up all the scattered quills and papers and threw them into the wall. "Damn it all!" She screamed, smashing the heap of wood with her magic over and over. “Sharphoof Lightdowser! Rain Gnash! Seacrest Blackhorn! Three ponies, three houses, three tribes! Why couldn't I have my easy last coup! All that planning, all that work!”
She slumped and let the magic die off her horn. "We were so close."

Sel made to pat her on the shoulder to reassure her but thought better of it. "It's going to work out, my lady. We can see this through even if it requires sacrifice."

"It allways required sacrifice." Velvet muttered. "But I did not want to be the one making that sacrifice. That was the beauty of the candidate plan. We are down our unicorn."

“My lady, pardon please for my speaking in ignorance, but you said Sharphoof Lightdowser and Seacrest Blackhorn. That's two unicorns...” Aurthora scratched her head. "I don't understand."

Thereto completely separate from the conversation, Molar attracted Velvet's attention with a rasp.

"No, I'm afraid Vizier Blackhorn will be there too. Not for any real reason other than I want him to be." Velvet said. "Should he be excluded?"

"Yes. You're embracing the spirit of sacrifice as well." Velvet smiled weakly. She turned back to the group. "The descendants of house Bright are the clearest option for a replacement candidate for the Lightdowsers. That means my husband, my childeren, and Foaly Flux. Of those options the clear choice presents itself."

Every pony looked depressed. It was like true horror of their plans was just then beginning to settle over them.

"Loosing Flux looses us Foal, probably forever. There will be no hope of peaceful acquisition. I doubt news of Flux's changes to the succession have even reached Foal yet." Velvet agreed. "If we but had a little more time... I thought the changes to the Summer Sun was fortuitous, when I had everything lines up how I wanted it. Now that I need more time it is a curse. Joyous things like this have a way of turning to ash in your mouth."

"But we have to move forward." Sel said. "Flux was like a father to me, but I know his sacrifice will improve this world for all of us."

"There's no stopping now. The hearts of fair Canterlot are behind us. We will triumph." Aurthora nodded sternly.

"Velvet, you taught that putting meaning in my words is more powerful than the message itself. I learned how to capture ponies' attentions beside you, and even now those commoner zealots I whipped up are in Canterlot Castle are dying for us." Blueblood said, the thankful tone sounding strange off his tongue. "We have to capitalize on this, like we always planned, or their sacrifice will be in vain. And I won't stomach knowing loyal unicorns died for nothing."

"There's no stopping us now." Velvet agreed. "Within days, we will make this city the beacon for pony triumph over the divine."

Seconds later a little messenger filly darted into the room. She hopped on the broken pile of Blueblood's desk and presented a letter for Velvet. "Message for you sah!" She squeaked.

Velvet wordlessly took the letter and read it over. "Thank you. Tell her to stand by."

"That was from Captain Spitfire. The Wonderbolts and city guard just completed clearing Canterlot Castle of Seacrest Blackhorn's militia." She said.

"They'll do no such thing." Velvet promised. "When Rain Gnash realizes that Lightdowser left her high and dry, she'll clam. She will sit tight with her Wonderbolts until we call for her."

"Hope upon hope our pegasus candidate doesn't go anywhere." Sel agreed. "But that's a pretty long letter to just say that."

"Spitefire mentions that a solar monk tried to get into the castle to speak to Junior Princes Cadenza. That will have been Manered of the Solar Monastery." Velvet passed him the letter. "New developments in the sun's condition I should imagine."

"Interesting times we live in, aren't they." Velvet said. "We don't have time to talk any longer! Action is what is needed no."
She wheeled to Sel. "Sel, get to the castle immediately. We need your city guard continents to begin gearing up." He galloped off.
"Blueblood, find Seacrest. Inform him that we can't even put the Estates off to the day after tomorrow. It has to be tonight! If he disagrees, convince him that Lightdowser's departure will have his opponents in disarray." With a salute, Blueblood made his exit as well.

"Make discrete visits to the Fifteen Castles. I don't want any trouble coming from that direction."

"How does it feel, knowing we are closing in on the promised moment? I want to say it feels exhilarating but right now, I can only feel tired." Velvet sighed. "For me, victory will be a gateway from even more burden and toil. Am I complaining without reason?"

"Without the divine, it is true that there is no chance of the elder siblings coming and doing to others what they have done to you." Velvet nodded. "Ponykind's suffering will be in its own hooves again, as it should be. No more gods and demigods. Only the squirming body of millions of mortals, driving their dreams against one another in a test of who will come to the top. No dreams stolen, no dreams manicured into pretty things that don't offend. The Bright World will become the home only to victory or defeat, as it should be."

"And I was glad to have shared it with you. l'm proud of my dream. It's a lovely thing, if I do say so myself." Velvet smiled sadly. "Now then, I think it's time we head towards Canterlot Castle. The sun and moon don't wait for us yet."

When the Everfree Burns

by SpiritDutch

Chapter 21: End of Scene