//------------------------------//
// Chapter 30 
// Story: Ein Sof Zealotry 
// by ZhaoZoharEX 
//------------------------------//


Original Title: Where I Belong
This chapter is part of the older version of "Ein Sof Zealotry" and is to be considered non-canon in lieu of the pending rewrite. This along with the rest of the old story remain for the purpose of comparison.




Every little filly dreamt about becoming a princess one day. Having a palace, hordes of servants, infinite amount of dresses and going to balls and galas presented an irresistible ideal for the young minds. They naturally understood, even if they refused to admit it even to themselves, that such dream had hardly any chance to come true.

As they aged, the dream developed along with their comprehension of the world. If they couldn’t become princesses, they would at least find a husband who would cherish them, treat them to various pleasures, put food on their table and smother them with affection, all that exactly when the wife would desire, and who would ask nothing in response, especially not working.

It was a beautiful dream to be sure and the more lucky fillies would even get to live it, that is if they managed to marry a rich enough stallion. There was just one small drawback in all of that, a catch they completely failed to notice. The life they led had nothing in common with being a princess. In fact, only one other lifestyle resembled their own - that of a house cat.

Nursery Rhyme fluffed up the last pillow and placed it back on the sofa. She took a look around her and enjoyed the swell of pride in her chest. She truly lived a life of a princess, keeping her kingdom tidy and orderly. Not only that, but she always knew where everything was and just what was needed. Just like a true ruler was bound to. Living like a cat seemed immensely boring to her. In her opinion, cats must have secretly led an engaging intellectual life just to preserve sanity. She couldn’t say that much about all those hussies she knew.

She found her prince more than twenty years ago, an event worth of fairytales… or a bad romance novel. And just like in either one of those, a poor mare employed as a maid had to defeat many obstacles on her path to happiness. Her prince chose her over the cruel baroness he had been forced to marry and helped her in the hour of highest need.

But all those fairytales were wrong in one thing - a commoner can never ascend to become a ruler. That would require either an extraordinarily powerful prince nopony would dare to question, or endlessly benevolent nobility. No, the only way a morganatic marriage could come to happen in Canterlot was for the prince to abdicate. 

She caressed the golden marriage necklace she was wearing and smiled fondly. He did. Only for her. Now it was her duty to make his life better than it could have ever been otherwise. And since the way to stallion’s heart led through his stomach, both for a lover and an assassin, she ventured directly for the kitchen.

Poor Star Chamber. Today must have been very difficult for him  When they woke up in the morning, Rhyme could immediately tell he would have prefered to sleep in till the next day. It hadn’t been even a year since the last one and here the city would witness another execution. It must have been shaking the very foundations of her husband’s world, although the chances were it just brushed against the old wounds.

She couldn’t look at the first execution as a bad thing. It opened the way for what they had now. She could have finally married her love when he stepped down from the office of a royal judge. The rent Star Chamber received didn’t compensate for his previous income fully, but by no means did they struggle. It was a wonder they got any rent anyway since despite the advice of all his friends, Star Chamber stated the reasons of his resignation openly. In person. To Celestia’s face. 

“To some stallions it’s easier to lose livelihood than honor. That’s why I love him so much. But he must eat nonetheless.”

She cut an eggplant to slices and started covering it in corn flakes. She would prepare something with a lot of calories to both replenish his energy after a long walk and relax him a bit. As long as he would be well fed and digesting, his capacity for brooding would be diminished. At least she hoped.

Once the eggplant was sizzling in the pan, getting ready for the next steps of the recipe, Rhyme quickly did the dishes and prepared another set of ingredients, the deciding flavour being sweet this time. What would a lunch be without a proper dessert? It took her no time at all to dish out a full baking sheet of vanilla puffs with how often she used to bake them back in the day. 

Soon she had nothing else to do than sit down and wait for the timer to go off. She planned her tasks wrong that day - they left her with too much time on her hooves and to make things worse she forgot to visit the library a retrieve a new novel. She could have tried one of her husband’s books, but given the percentage of legal texts among them, she would just spend the rest of the morning searching for anything readable. 

“I wonder where he is so long anyway,” she mused. “With all the shops closed and the downtown crowded, he must have a hard time finding any peaceful place to begin with.” 

Fortunately, the eggplant reached the required consistency soon enough and she could continue. A bit of vinegar, a lot of different veggies, some spices and back into the pan. She made a dough of potatoes, flour, milk and eggs in which she would put everything for the final stage and washed some lettuce to serve it on. 

Just in time did she finish the preparations as a key rumbled in the keyhole of the entrance door. She quickly checked if the puffs weren’t done yet and then hurried forth to greet her husband. She got to the door just as it opened and she immediately went for an embrace, pressing her lips to his in a deep kiss.

She got so easily lost in his sweet auburn eyes; gazing into them would be enough activity for the rest of her life for her. Brushing a stray strand of his mane from his face to the side, she noticed more grey hair appeared. The events must have been weighing on him even more than she imagined. She would keep him safe from the world though. No evil would enter her house.

Star Chamber separated their lips and smiled at her fondly. There was so much love in that simple smile, but also a strange mixture of sadness and excitement. She cocked her head questioningly at that; under regular circumstances he would have never ceased their welcome kiss so early.

“It’s not the right moment, Rhymey,” he said quietly, putting the same mixture of feelings in his voice.

“What? Why not? I missed you!”

He chuckled at that, never able to resist her when she talked to him like one does with a little foal. She learnt that a long time ago too. “I missed you too, love, but we have guests.”

She looked over his shoulder and indeed found two more ponies on the steps to the door. A yellow unicorn mare was grinning from ear to ear, while the earth pony one seemed to debate between feigning strength and running away. There was something familiar on her, the magenta coat and peach mane, the timid smile. Those auburn eyes behind glasses…

“Canvas?” she whispered, not daring to speak louder in case the dream would shatter from noise. “Is that really you, child?”

“Hi, Nanny. I-I’m sorry I worried you so much. Uhm… It’s so nice to-”

They say you can’t notice when a viper strikes, the only thing left behind being the marks on your skin. In this case though, the viper would rub its eyes and ask in confusion just when that lilac mare switched the targets of her hug.

The feeling of holding her foal after all that time was incredible. As if she went back several years and welcomed Canvas after coming from school again. She caressed her and covered with kisses, her eyes getting blurry from tears. Who knows how long they would stand there if the yellow mare didn’t tap her on the shoulder.

“Um excuse me,” she said and sniffed a bit toward the door, “is it just me, or are there vanilla puffs about to get burned in the oven?” 



 

Canvas curled on one end of a sofa, a steaming cup of sweet tea on the table beside her next to a small lamp painted with flower pattern. She remembered painting on that silken cloth and her frustration when one of the flowers materialized. Back then her powers hadn’t fully developed and she didn’t understand them either. She assumed she just placed the plant she modeled the painting after on the wrong side of the cloth, which despite the silliness still seemed more plausible than creating a flower out of nothing.

The whole room was breathing memories to her. Each Hearth Warming Eve would be celebrated there, a tree standing by the window. Her father would always charm the decorations to shine. Few days around the Hearth Warming, they would have piled blankets and pillows around the tree and sleep there, pretending to be outside in the snow. She loved her old life and scorned herself a thousand times for ruining it.

Ever since she left her home, she had worried about how would her father react and what would come from her behavior for him. Even during the sneaky journey through the city today when Golden managed to convince her to accept his help, she fretted only about what he would tell her. It all seemed really foolish now. But how she fail to consider Nanny, she didn’t have a clue.

If it weren’t for Golden’s interruption, Canvas wouldn’t live to see another day because of Nanny’s bear hug. She acted just like Canvas remembered her - loving, impulsive and unpredictable. The rescue mission for vanilla puffs naturally succeeded and furthermore provided Canvas enough time to check out her slightly bruised ribs. 

From there on it was a stream of kisses, more tender hugs, compliments on how she matured and grew into beauty, even though ‘Oh you got so wonderfully plump’ bordered with an insult a little, especially accompanied with Golden’s giggling, and endless train of food, beginning with eggplant and puffs and ending with strawberry preserve.

Only after Golden requested to see some photos of Canvas, did Nanny stop her loving onslaught and gave Canvas a moment with her father too. They made themselves comfortable on the sofa while the two mares sat by the table under which Canvas used to play house and were obviously enjoying themselves, discussing Canvas’ foalish exploits. She would have to be angry or grateful to Golden, but an oath of silence was definitely in order.

“When I realised what I’d done, I just couldn’t return home. I was scared it would ruin your reputation, dad, I wanted to protect you,” She felt an immense urge to justify herself. For her fall, for running, for everything. She spilled it out almost in one breath, expecting a verbal lashing, but instead of that she was pulled into a gentle embrace.

“Parents ought to protect their foals, not the other way around,” he said, planting a soft kiss in her mane. “I’m sorry I didn’t prevent all of that. I should have expected that pig to try something like that.”

“So you aren’t mad at me?”

“Of course not, dear. If anything, I am happy you are alright. We gave up all hope after that blaze five years ago.”

“I didn’t realise you would hear about that. I’m sorry, dad.”

“Don’t be. It’s gone and we are together again. I just wish you told me back then. Blueblood wouldn’t have gotten away unpunished, you wouldn’t suffer and many bad things would have been avoided. Like today.”

Canvas rose from his embrace and looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean by today?”

“Well, you eventually took care of punishing him alone, and quite excessively at that. Such things should never come to pass.”

“You think this was a revenge? He didn’t die because of that. He committed crimes against others and so faced the judgment.”

“So instead you avenged ponies who attacked this city. I admit the cause is higher, but still remains revenge.”

She slumped back in the sofa. Even though her father wasn’t condemning her, but only the deed, she felt miserable. She did the right thing, following only Justice itself. If the act was wrong, she was wrong and she knew that wasn’t true. “Even if nopony died that day, dad, I would have had to act the same,” she whispered. “Even if I never met Blueblood before, for his crimes he would be sentenced to death. He put his interests before those of ponies and broke the deepest principles.”

“Don’t you think he could have redeemed himself later if he stayed alive?” He reached a hoof to her and caressed her foreleg and gave her the same look she knew from when she was a foal and misbehaved. One of understanding, but also sadness.

“He was faced with the results of his actions, dad, and didn’t show any remorse today. He must have been prevented from any chance of doing this again. His punishment began only after the execution. But if his crimes allow it, he is in bliss.”

“You can’t tell what future will bring, dear. As long as there is a chance for redemption, we have no right to take lives of others just because there is a risk of crime.”

“What right do we have to rest lives of many in comparison to one? He proved again and again just how depraved he was. Where is the line? When a beast attacks a pony, we put it down. Not to punish it, but to prevent this from happening again.”

“I am so sorry for allowing the world to teach you that, dear. Nopony should feel so threatened ask death of others. Life is sacred, Canvas.”

Canvas saw he had tears in the corners of his eyes. She felt her eyes burn as well. After all that time and the brief hope, would they be separated forever because of her own actions? She was scared and wasn’t even sure her voice would work, but she had to ask. “Do you hate me for that, dad?”

He sighed and pulled her back into his forelegs. Then he looked up to the table where Nanny and Golden still browsed the albums. “Mrs. Cage, would you please pick that magenta album and turn to page six? Tell us what you see.”

“Chamber that’s-” Nanny started, but he waved her to be silent.

“I know. I think it¨s time. Please continue, Mrs. Cage.”

“Um, sure, let’s see…” Golden quickly leafed to the requested page and lifted the album to her eyes. “Look at that!” she exclaimed and Canvas would swear her eyes sparkled at that moment. “It’s you as a little baby, Canvas. Definitely just a few weeks old at most!”

“Three days, to be exact,” Chamber clarified. It’s from the maternity hospital.”

“But then- Those ponies- You are-” Golden stammered as Chamber took the picture from her hooves with his magic and gave it to Canvas. Indeed, in the centre of the picture there was a magenta foal with a wide grin on her face. She was tucked in a beige blanket and nothing seemed to cloud her world. There were two more ponies in the picture though, apparently her parents. A brown stallion with auburn eyes and- 

She rubbed her eyes in disbelief and to wipe away the sudden tears too. Then she lifted them to Nanny. “M-mommy?” she whispered, her voice trembling more than it ever did. 

“Please don’t be mad we didn’t tell you earlier, child. We couldn’t. But it didn’t change how much we love you.”

“What? Why couldn’t you tell her before?” Golden inquired. 

“Tell me, Mrs. Cage, how has the high society treated you since you married a pegasus guard?” Chamber countered, but Canvas didn’t care. She was slowly walking to the table, the photo pressed against her heart. “If we when public back then, it would have killed us in the society.”

Canvas finally made it to her mother and fell into her outstretched hooves. “Mommy. I love you mommy.”

“I love you too, darling. Everything will be alright now.”

In a few seconds Canvas felt another pony press against her and stretch a hoof around her shoulder. “I was foolish back then, Canvas. No office is worth more than those you love,” her dad said to her ear. “I could never hate my precious foal. I love you, darling.”





Whenever a new ideology arises, it always finds its followers. It’s the nature of ponykind to follow, an instinct shared with all beings living in herds. One individual strong enough to step out on their own will draw everypony after them because they prove superiority and potential to protect the rest. 

Once followers start coming, they are bound to pressure each other more and more with every newcomer. That’s where conflicts start. Just like the animals stepping on each others’ feet and bickering over more comfortable spot to rest on. Not only that, but they will also fight to climb in the hierarchy or to impress potential partners. 

While animals may keep order in their herd on their own, given the small number of members, no pony leader has time to deal with every little squabble alone. That’s why each group needs ponies settling down disagreements and disciplining wrongdoers. Who better should take on that role than the Bearer of Justice herself?

That is, at least if she were around. Rallying Net rearranged the stacks of papers on the table for the tenth time that morning, coming up with the same result. There had been too many. He would get through all of them by the end of the day, but it would leave him utterly exhausted. Again. Not to mention that the amount had been increasing almost daily. It wasn’t that the crime rate would grow. The other instances simply decided they could take off their load by redirecting the cases.

When a new instance of justice is formed based on the new ideology, only a fool would remove those already existent. After all, unless you pursue anarchy, new systems always bet on bureaucracy to smoothen their ascension to power. Thus the courts of Crystal Empire stayed in place, passing judgment in regular civil and criminal matters. At least until lately, when the option was given to the plaintiffs to take the action to the Bearer of Justice.

That wouldn’t cause that much trouble though. The overall number of judicial decisions in Crystal Empire had always been deep below the Equestrian average. What really grinded Net’s gears were the other parts of Hexarete Front. Why couldn’t they simply deal with their disciplinary actions alone as any armed body was bound to? Not to mention Crystal Guard. Net suspected Queen Cadance intended this as a hidden revenge. Maybe a taste of her duties for Ms. Canvas who showed her land.

“Then why couldn’t she wait till Ms. Canvas would return?!”

He got up from his chair by the side of a mahogany table and walked over to the window. Ms. Canvas had a lucky hoof when she picked this room as her office, as the place was bathed in sunshine the whole day and offered a beautiful view into the garden. 

He missed her as his guide and security. Ever since they entrusted him with their plans for establishing the Front in Crystal Empire he had been loyally serving Ms. Canvas, first as her personal servant, then secretary and eventually, once he proved himself enough, as her second in command. When she left for the mission in Canterlot, he was her natural choice for a substitute.

Not that it made things easier for him. He learnt as much as he could under Ms. Canvas’ lead, but he never expected to be left on his own so soon. He felt honored that Ms. Canvas thought so highly of him, but in the past days he became a bit desperate. All his life he was taught to follow orders, to serve and keep things in motion, not to set them into it. He was excellent at his job, but he was born to be second in command. 

Ms. Canvas on the other hoof acted as his opposite. She was changing everything around her. The ponies, their perception of the world, even that very room. Net marveled at the dark wooden paneling on the walls interrupted only by a library with various books of laws. The whole kingdom was built of crystals. They glistened everywhere you went and nopony would ever question that until Queen Cadance arrived. And now Ms. Canvas covered the crystals with what she felt like to. 

She took special care to furnish her new quarters when the Elements decided it was time to get their own place each, and the study was no exception. Her touch and presence were in everything - the hazelnut brown sofas, six-spoke chandelier with a ring of candles on each end, a glasses case on the table and most of all the pictures on the wall, of Canterlot, Elysium and ponies he never saw and was hesitant to ask about. In the end, he saw her in the paperwork lying around too, since it represented her striving.

That was it! “Ms. Canvas didn’t leave me alone!” she told to his reflection in the window. “She stayed with me in the task itself. She entrusted me to continue with her work so she could perform a task of highest importance. I will not fail her.”

He quickly scooped up the papers he needed for the morning and made sure his chair was properly placed back to its place. While Ms. Canvas equip the room with a comfortable armchair to go with the writing desk, Net never used it. He wouldn’t place himself in her seat, expressing his substitute function with all means possible. Once everything was in order, he walked out of one of the three doors leading to the room - the other two led to Ms. Canvas’ chambers and the other to a public corridor as Ms. Canvas used the room for work meetings too.

The courtroom fit in the palace much more, with all its crystal beauty. Ms. Canvas didn’t go so far as to change such official space; it would affect the perception of the institution negatively for the traditionalist crystal ponies. As if the outside appearance mattered a single bit. However, Net wouldn’t make the same mistake by despising the room’s look. 

His two assistants were already present, seated a short way in front of the door and facing the opposite way. Between them there was another chair reserved for him.

“Captain Palm Branch, Captain Rattan Cane, good morning to you,” Net greeted his coworkers, speaking in their general direction since he still couldn’t remember who was who. They both wore green capes, a sign of Ms. Canvas’ followers, and shared the cream coloration of coast and white manes. Despite the difference of age, the only discerning sign between the earth pony brothers was the manestyle, one leaving his long mane fall freely, the other keeping it in number of thin braids. 

“Good morning, first secretary Rallying Net,” they said simultaneously. They did that a lot, making Net question if he really had two coworkers or just one flanking him on both sides. Then again, their votes often differed, mainly in the question of punishing. “How has the work treated you so far?”

“Sufficiently well, I suppose.” He took his seat and took the list of cases to be decided from the braided one. “The administrative disputes had been dealt with, now to the disciplinary ones. Let’s see. Still nothing from the units under generals Shimmer and Dust?”

“Not a single one, first secretary. It seems they continue to solve the internal problems on their own.”

“As it should be. Elysium grant them its favor for it.” Net finished his preparations by putting on a necklace with a pendant depicting a sword covered in leaves, and looked at both his coworkers. Ms. Canvas assigned them to act as a bench judges during her absence, picking them from her most trusted officers. Net couldn’t complain about their efficiency and deep understanding of the concept of Justice. “If we are all ready, we can start.”

The plain one tapped the ground with his hoof three times and the entrance door opened. Net didn’t know how exactly he did that - it may have been some earth pony thing, but the brothers could have achieved some level of Ms. Canvas’ skills. After all, she trained her officers herself. Either way, the path was now open for the first attendants - an ivory crystal earth pony and…

“Good morning, captain Armor. I am glad you came in person for the matters of Crystal Guard.”

Shining Armor scowled at him at him, as did his unwilling companion. It must have been because Net didn’t stand up to greet him, which he wasn’t used to. Unfortunately for the unicorn though, his title of prince consort had no power when it came to military matters, making him an ordinary captain. Not to mention that Rallying Net probably held more actual power as the first secretary of the Element of Justice than Shining Armor ever did. Which Shining Armor knew well and it drove him even more crazy.

“Good morning, first secretary.” The newcomers arrived to the centre of the room where they stepped to the assigned spots surrounded by wooden railing. “Before we start, I would like to express how displeased I am with the fact that disciplinary matters of Crystal Guard are decided by an outside body.”

Look at that! So they finally found some common ground! “I assure you, captain, that we are just as annoyed by it as you are. Alas, unless the supreme commander of Crystal Guards retracts the mandate, the Element of Justice has full jurisdiction and this court must decide. Therefore any complaints should be addressed to Queen Cadance, not us.”

“Hey! Would you stop bickering finally and cut to the chase?” 

They all turned to the accused stallion who was leaning against the railing uninterestedly. Along with his scornful expression he was getting dangerously close to contempting the court. It was of utmost importance that Net would stay calm and unbiased. With such stallion it would be hard though.

“Very well then. I agree it is in the best interest of all parties that the decision it reached as soon as possible. Captain Armor, would you please state the charges?”

“As you wish.” Shining Armor cleared his throat and looked straight at Net, not wasting another look at the defendant. There could be no talk about unbiased approach at all. “Lieutenant Marble Rampart had been sent as a leader of task squad for a mission three days ago to eliminate a dangerous polar ursa to the north-east from the Empire. It was reported the beast had attacked several travelers and elimination was ordered.”

“And we got it done too,” the defendant stepped in, once again ignoring the processual rules. Net decided that acting against it would be as futile as teaching a carrot to tap dance, so he remained silent. Shining Armor wouldn’t though.

“The problem is how! You were directly ordered to proceed with utmost care and avoid risks whenever possible. However,” he turned back to the judges, pointing a hoof at Marble Rampart accusingly, “his chosen method endangered his entire squad, as you can see in the copies of the reports you were sent.”

Net searched his papers for a second before he located the one in question. The report described the operation in detail and Net couldn’t make use of most of it, so he skipped to the part about the actual elimination of the ursa. Apparently, the task squad was ordered to act as a bait and lead it to the chosen position while Marble Rampart assumed position on a cliff from where he then jumped down on the ursa and slew it with a clean hit of a spear. However, four members of the squad had been injured by the ursa before Marble stepped in and needed to be hospitalized. That was…

“Very reckless,” ‘Braids’ said and folded his paper down. “Orchestrating such a dangerous plan while having all options open can’t be evaluated otherwise.”

“Yeah?” Marble Rampart seemed to take that personally, as he leaned forward, forehooves firmly planted on the railing. “And how would you know? They were weak, that’s why they got hurt! And they were weak because self-appointed wannabe captains from who knows where teach them that! You have no clue how Crystal Guard is to operate!”

“In the case of fight against one strong opponent in the area of Frozen Wastes, the squad is to divide into pairs and camouflage under the snow. Two pairs than draw the attention of the enemy, but remain in a safe distance of at least one hundred yards. The hidden pairs are to wait until the enemy passes by and strike with long weapons all at the same time, thus eliminating the threat with minimal risk.”

All eyes turned to Net, who was sitting straight on his seat, head a bit lowered. He could no longer remain neutral as the evidence convinced him of Marble Rampart’s guilt. And gloated ugly ego. “My specialization was administrative, Marble Rampart, but under Sombra’s rule every state’s official must have undergone military training. I assure you that out of all of you here, it is I who knows how Crystal Guard ought to work.” He leaned a bit forward, mirroring the position of Marble’s hooves, but not the shocked expression. “Crystal Guard was formed as his personal army and I tell you that even in all his cruelty and madness, Sombra always valued his soldiers and treated them well. For what you did, he would have had you executed, you bratty defender of Crystal Guard traditions!”

He placed a hoof on the pendant from Ms. Canvas and breathed deeply to calm down. The rest of the ponies present were slowly overcoming their surprise. None of them expected a mere office worker to know so much about military rules. Appearance often deceived.

“Based on the evidence I deem you guilty of mistreating your subordinates and abusing your position.”

“I follow that opinion. He should right the wrong he caused, too,” ‘Braids’ said. “How do you vote, Palm?” 

“There is no doubt of that. Furthermore, although I wish nothing more, I can’t plead for refraining from punishment either, since you don’t regret your actions a single bit. Decide wisely, first secretary.”

Net took a moment to consider all points, but the punishment seemed rather clear from the offenses themselves. “As you caused harm to others, you will pay them damages based on their lost income plus twenty percent for suffering. Furthermore, you are hereby stripped of your rank. Your new assignment is support unit in the Empire. May that change the way you view others, Private Rampart.”

“You bastard! That’s completely unfair! I did nothing wrong!” It seemed Marble Rampart would jump over the railing and attack Net. If he tried, the other purpose of the brothers’ presence would be revealed. Not much would remain from the angry soldier after they would draw their blades. Nothing of that came to happen though as Shining Armor grabbed Marble in his magic and lifted him a few inches up.

“Thank you for the decision, first secretary,” he said, bowing his head a slightest bit. “I must admit my doubts in the justice you deliver have been dispersed quite a bit.”

“That’s pleasing to hear indeed, captain Armor. Hopefully we meet under more enjoyable circumstances next time. Have a good day.”

As the door closed behind the two, Net looked at his table and noticed an alarming absence of a glass of water. In his current a bit raspy condition that posed a huge problem. “Let’s take a five minutes break before the next case. Elysium give us somepony more reasonable and less self-absorbed to judge. I also hope they won’t have such bright coat too. This room was getting blinding.”  





Back when she was a schoolfilly, Twilight never understood what other foals had on weekends. To her they were nothing but a horrible waste of time that could have been spent in school. So while the other foals were running outside playing their silly games, Twilight would sit at home, head buried deep in textbooks and studied.

When she became Celestia’s apprentice, the weekends gained a new dimension. Unlike on other days, Celestia didn’t have to hold court and would spend the whole two days with Twilight practicing. The originally empty days ascended to the position of the busiest ones. Then she moved to Ponyville and while she missed the rhythm of life she was used to at first, she soon stopped watching the flow of days, following her original idea of all days following the same timetable. The same could be said for her time in Elysium.

Only recently, when her life had to accommodate to that of other ponies completely, she grew fond of those two precious days at the end of the week. She would preach and teach and reach to other all week long, helping with organizing of Hexarete Front and with running the Empire, and at the same time would have to manage planning of future steps and constant training. But since other ponies refused to stay that active during weekends, neither had she to, and for the very first time in her life she appreciated it.

She learnt one more important thing most foals understood as soon as at seven years of age: that while reading to learn something could bring a huge pleasure, reading just for sake of relaxing and enjoying a story surpassed it hundredfolds. Sure, she used to read about Daring Do, but more for the rather accurate descriptions of lost cultures, than for the suspension. That’s why she had adjusted her personal library with addition of beletry, and why she was carrying a fresh adventure novel along with a pillow into the palace garden.

Over the months she explored most of the waste expanse of hedges, flowerbeds and sand paths and picked several places as her favourite. Since she wished to spend the day in peace, she made her way to one of the more distant ones, a well-kept lawn under a sakura which was constantly clad in blossoms. Thanks to various bushes in the proximity, the place was kept out of sight for the most part. 

Twilight placed the pillow in the grass and stretched her back and wings, taking a deep breath. The scent of flowers always permeated the air in the garden and had a calming effect on Twilight’s mind. She stood there for a few minutes, enjoying the atmosphere of the place. The spears of the Crystal Palace glistened in the morning sun quite a way from her, the sky without a cloud and the only sound apart from the chirping of birds and buzzing of bees being a quiet burbling of a fountain nearby. Finding a place where no fountain would be heard in the garden would require high detective talent. They were simply omnipresent, just like in Elysium. It helped Twilight with accommodating to her new home.

When she felt she indulged in her surroundings enough, Twilight stepped tentatively on her pillow and began turning on a spot to create a comfortable depression in its centre. Then she laid down carefully, folding her legs underneath herself, adjusted the position of her feathers and levitated the book in front of her.

The tortoise is a ground-living creature. It is impossible to live nearer the ground without being under it. Its horizons are-

Twilight’s ears perked up as they registered the sound of hoofsteps nearing to her hideout. She briefly hoped whoever it was would pass by for other destination, but the more rational and cynical part of her mind knew that wouldn’t be the case. Indeed, in a few seconds the pony arrived at the lawn Twilight occupied, revealing themselves as the Master of Ceremonies. Twilight sighed and put the book down. She forgot some ponies ignored the weekends whatsoever. 

“Good morning Ms. Twilight. I am so happy I finally found you!” he said gasping for air. He must have been running all the way from the palace, which for a stallion of his age meant an admirable feat. His clothes were drenched correspondingly too. “I had huge trouble locating you.”

“How strange.” Twilight gestured for him to sit down in the grass. She didn’t exactly overflow with enthusiasm about talking with him, drawing from her huge, and honestly quite unfruitful and time-wasting, experience. “I distinctly remember choosing a remote place where it would be hard to locate me. How could you have any trouble?”

“But if you did that, it’s completely natural I had trouble, Ms. Twilight,” he pointed out in confusion, completely missing Twilight’s sarcasm. Twilight bit her lip, growing ashamed of her behavior. He only did his job, very well at that, and was constantly making life much easier for her friends and her. The least she could do in turn was treat him politely, especially given the Element she represented. Her rest would wait if others needed her.

“I am sorry. How can I be of help? Did something bad happen?”

“Oh, Ms. Twilight, it is horrible. I am awfully sorry for causing all this trouble. I should have solved the matter ages ago, but it slipped my mind entirely! I will offer my resignation if my failure will endanger our goal!” 

Twilight was getting honestly worried. The poor stallion in front of her looked positively desperate and at the end of his wit. She was almost afraid to ask, but she needed to know. “Please tell me what happened. I will do my best to prevent any potential damage to the best of my ability.”

“I believe in your skills, Ms. Twilight. I hope you are right.” He seemed to calm down a little, but still fidgeted in the grass. After some further hesitation he finally gathered courage to spill the beans. “The thing is, the ceremony of appointing new generals of Hexarete Front is taking place in five days and haven’t decided on decorations, menu and worst of all, the seating arrangements! It’s horrible!” He gazed at Twilight for a few seconds, scrutinizing her reaction, then added crestfallenly: “I am deeply sorry for shocking you so darkly with my incompetence, Ms. Twilight.”

Twilight was indeed shocked. The experienced and professional stallion in front of her just presented such a trivial matter to her as a disaster of mythical size. On her free day no less! She was about to wave his concerns off when the realisation hit her: to him, it indeed was such a disaster. The sole thought of messy ceremony probably haunted him more than the idea of Sombra returning. 

“You did well that you sought me out, Golden Scepter,” she said in a kind tone, surprising the stallion by actually recalling his name. He would hardly ever use it anymore, being called by his title. “If you have the papers with you, we will try to solve the matter immediately. With our powers combined, we should manage it.”

“You are too kind to me, Ms. Twilight.” He walked closer to her, so that they could both read the documents he brought at the same time. “I tried several arrangements, but it still feels off. Let’s see.”

After a time period that Twilight would describe as eternity, they solved all the troubled details of the ceremony and Golden Scepter left, his spirits lifted and his joy of life restored. Twilight on the other hoof fluffed up her pillow and resumed her previous position, happily returning to her reading.

The tortoise is a ground-living creature. It is impossible to live nearer the ground without being under it. Its horizons are a few inches away. It has about as good a turn of speed-

As hooves again resounded on the sand of the path, Twilight made an oath to herself she would treat the newcomer with a smile on her face and readiness to help in her heart. That presented a real challenge as the pony turned out to be the royal seamstress, 

“Good morning, Ms. Twilight. I am glad I found you. We need your measurements for the new dress.”

“Wait, what new dress? And didn’t you take my measurements last week?”

“The one for the ceremony next week, of course!” the seamstress looked at Twilight as if she grew a second head at that moment, which Twilight promptly returned, only the head she face was immeasurably more ugly. The seamstress didn’t mind though, so Twilight didn’t count is as a breach of her oath. “As for measuring you, it is best to keep everything updated at all times. One can gain weight really easily in the palace!”

“You must have some relatives in Ponyville.” Twilight stood up to allow the seamstress do her job, although she didn’t see much point in it. She could have used one of her Hexarete robes just as well for the ceremony and the dress would resemble it anyway. Few ciphers marked down later, she started analysing what the seamstress told her and came to an unpleasant result. “Did you just call me fat?”

Eventually even this chore was over and Twilight returned to the pillow, much more promptly than the first time. By acting fast she unconsciously wished to prevent anypony from interrupting again. 

The tortoise is a ground-living creature. It is impossible to live nearer the ground without being under it. Its horizons are a few inches away. It has about as good a turn of speed as you need to hunt down a lettuce. It has survived while the rest of evolution flowed past it-

“Good morning, Twilight!”

And her wish remained unheard. She just couldn’t read for a while, could she? She didn’t even hear any hoofsteps this time; the intruder must have been hiding nearby and waited till she would settle down! Her patience ran out. She jumped up and flared her wings wide.

“Can’t I have at least few minutes for myself?!” she shouted at such volume that few petals fell off the blooming tree. “I spent the week running around, solving one crisis after another, helping whoever needed assistance and teaching constantly, because ponies don’t seem to learn on their own! All I ask is a calm Sunday when I can lay down and read a good book! If you came because of that ceremony next week then- WARRRGARRB!”

Words couldn’t describe Twilight’s surprise when a stream of water hit her right in the face, threatening to drown her and stealing her sight from her. She reared her head back and turned away to avoid it, all the time flailing her forelegs wildly. Only faintly could she hear a familiar voice nearby: “What a drama. You should really take some classes in angry monologuing.”

Soon the stream died down and Twilight could push her drenched main from her eyes. As she was regaining her composure, she confirmed Trixie was standing few feet from her, a picnic basket by her feet. 

“Let’s try again. Good morning, Twilight!”

“What was that for?” Although Twilight was scowling with passion, Trixie didn’t seem affected at all, repaying her with a sweet smile. Too sweet to be innocent.

“Oh, well your mane was catching ablaze from your flaming, so I decided to put you out.”

They stood there for a few seconds, Trixie keeping her smile up and Twilight heaving a little, head slightly lowered. Then they both broke to gallop.

“Just wait till I catch you! I will- garrbbbllele- stop that!” Twilight yelled and took a sharp turn after Trixie who was giggling madly.

“Then hurry!” Trixie shouted over her shoulder. “I don’t have the whole eternity!”

More than willing to obey, Twilight was giving chase with all her energy, closing the distance constantly, her longer legs giving her more speed. Trixie knew that as well and tried to compensate with litheness, taking sharp turns at every occasion. Sand and small pebbles were flying from her hooves, but the neither the smoke screen, nor the zigzagging would rid her of the pursuer. 

Twilight was about to tackle her opponent when Trixie jumped directly against a pedestal of a statue at a crossing. Twilight thought for sure Trixie would smash against the stone, and her brain refused to register the following events at first as Trixie spinning in the air, bouncing from the pedestal and floating over Twilight’s head clashed harshly with her understanding of reality. Not to mention that with another water blast in her face she wasn’t in the best position to comprehend.

When she regained her stability and bearings, Trixie had already vanished behind a corner and mostly likely the next one too. Twilight was at the loss for a few seconds, before an instinct made her shake water from her feathers. The answer was painfully obvious; she took flight in an instant.

From up above the gardens looked just as beautiful as from the ground. Twilight traced intricate patterns created by the flower beds and if she soared a bit higher, she would notice a deep hexagonal symmetry. But she wasn’t after the skills of the gardeners and architects. She sought only one fleeing blue unicorn and she spotted her very soon. Trixie was not giving up on her speed, putting as much distance between her and the place of the last encounter as possible, but that wouldn’t save her now.

While ponies weren’t created as predators and never needed to hunt down prey, they were quick learners and you couldn’t tell a difference between the flight pattern of skilled pegasus and a hawk. Or an angry purple alicorn and eagle descending upon a rabbit. 

“Hey! No fair!” Trixie whimpered as she was struck down and turned over to rest on her back. Twilight was towering over her, forelegs resting gently but firmly on Trixie’s, a victorious grin gracing her lips. She bowed her head down to gaze upon her defeated opponent better.

“All is fair in love and war,” she said, great satisfaction underlining her tone. Her confidence diminished a little when Trixie gave her a quizzical look, coking her head a little. 

“All’s fair you say?” Trixie shot forward, kissing Twilight on the tip of the muzzle lightly. Then she giggled and teleported away.

“Y-yeah,” Twilight said to nopony, touching her muzzle with a hoof, “but which one was this?” 

There was no point in stalling around; she could have just as easily returned to her reading place, although with so many interruption she doubted she would get in the groove anymore. That’s why she wasn’t exactly hurrying, When she made it back the arrangements of her spot had changed. Her pillow was moved to the side and instead of it a blanket rested on the ground, tea cups and a kettle on one side and sandwiches on the other. 

“I brought some lunch. Come sit down,” Trixie said from her lying position, gesturing to the opposite side. The nonchalance of that statement disarmed Twilight to such extend that she simply obeyed. “What got you so worked up back then?”

“You mean apart from everypony seeking me on Sunday and you soaking my coat?”

“I mean that ceremony part.”

“Oh that.” Twilight rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. Honestly, she was ashamed of her behavior, and even though she would never admit it, she found Trixie’s actions justified. That being said, she had a good reason to be on edge as well. “It’s just that everypony has been reminding me of that ceremony all the time and I can’t stop thinking about the consequences.”

“What consequences should appointing few officers have? It will help us with organization if anything.”

Twilight took a sip of the tea Trixie poured for her. “It’s not the appointing that worries me. It’s what will most likely happen during the banquet afterwards. Have you read the report from the docks? The airship fleet was finished for the most part. With the new generals there will be nothing stopping us from venturing to Wastelands and Cadance knows it.”

“So you are worried she will urge us to fulfill the promise,” Trixie said with her mouth full of sandwich, crumbs falling out occasionally. One got caught on her fur and Twilight reached forward, brushing it away. “Eating with closed mouth is overrated. Anyway, you must have known this would come. We agreed the demand was reasonable counter-value and that it corresponded with our goals for the most part.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Killing so many… Cadance just wants them all gone. It’s not right. I don’t think I can do it”

“Canvas will disagree with this too. For more reasons than one.”

They ate in silence for a while, contemplating the matter at hoof. The free day turned sour for Twilight. Once again she learnt that if you play hide and seek with problems, you should be the one seeking, or else you always lose. At least her company was pleasant and she didn’t have to worry alone anymore.

“I will do it.”

Twilight looked up in confusion, her train of thoughts disrupted by that sudden sentence. Trixie was facing her still smiling, but there was pain in the smile and Twilight knew she was serious.

“I will do it,” Trixie repeated, sighing as if she laid down a heavy burden. “If you can’t, then I will. We mustn’t lose Cadance’s support, and even though I share your animosity toward the task, I will follow through. I can deal with it.”

It was a sacrifice. Trixie never showed much interest in fighting in the first place. It didn’t suit her Elements at all since solving matters peacefully and to mutual satisfaction always surpassed violence. At the same time though, sometimes there was no other way and she knew it.

“Thank you,” Twilight whispered with a weak smile.

“Don’t mention it. At least till Friday.” Trixie shifted in her spot a little, getting more comfortable, and her face underwent a metamorphosis into its previous cheerful state. “So. What was it you read when I arrived?”

“The first paragraph for the third time,” Twilight quipped, earning a small shower over her head. “Alright, I get it. It’s a comical adventurous novel from a series I picked up lately.”

“Sweet! Would you care if I joined?”

“Go ahead.” 

With the permission Trixie didn’t waste any time, flashing her horn and teleporting to Twilight’s side, the pillow appearing underneath them at the same time. She leaned against Twilight and propped her head on Twilight’s shoulder. “All set, you can start reading,” she chirped with a giggle. 

Twilight was sure that her cheeks were burning at the moment, but sooner the world would freeze before she would make a move to change the arrangements. She levitated the book in front of her eyes again and cleared her throat.

“The tortoise is a ground-living creature. It is impossible to live nearer the ground without being under it. Its horizons are a few inches away. It has about as good a turn of speed as you need to hunt down a lettuce. It has survived while the rest of evolution flowed past it by being, on the whole, no threat to anyone and too much trouble to eat.”





The sun had long since vanished behind the horizon, stars coldly gazing from the clear sky above. Somewhere behind the houses a brook was bubbling away, having descended from the mountainside just behind the walls. It was getting cold and the wind drove the remaining fallen leaves across the courtyard with the sound of thousand angry snakes. Nobody lingered around anymore, the barracks far away across most of the areal. They got chased away by the bleak evening of early December, but one figure wouldn’t stop even if the space was filled with actual snakes.

Gilda expected the place to be forlorn and it suited her plans perfectly, but not meeting a single soldier the entire way from the barracks made her rather angry. Did those fools really think that as the season changed they wouldn’t need to train anymore? The chill and snow would make them rusty by the spring and she would surpass them all.

Adjusting the leather harnesses holding her heavy sword between her wings and pulling her cloak closer to her body, she started across the courtyard a one storey building with a jagged crest on the top of the roof’s slope. Two torches marked the entrance, the only sources of light around. 

She opened the bronze door with no trouble; they never locked that house, everybody having an open access to it. That is, anybody who dared. Very few would ever visit this place, not just trainees, even most of the officers feeling strong apprehension to what it hid. The word had it that beating that training would earn you at least a lieutenant rank. Gilda didn’t yearn a promotion. She came for a challenge.

Once the door shut close behind her, the warmth of the room enveloped her, gentle and welcoming. Deep inside she felt as if the house was greeting her, being happy about receiving a visitor after such a long time. Fire was humming away in two fireplaces on the longer sides of the room under the first-floor gallery supported by evenly spaced out rectangular wooden pillars reaching to the ceiling. The beams of the roof were exposed to the eye, illuminated with lampions

Gilda walked slowly across the polished floor, looking around at the walls decorated with wallpaper the shade of reed and wondering how the device would work in such conditions. She would probably find out when the time was right. The door opposing the entrance led her into a much smaller room, a set of levers on the other wall immediately drawing her attention. This must have been the startup mechanism of the device.

To her knowledge, each lever would release the brakes of one figurine, while turning the wooden circle operated floodgates redirecting the brook she heard earlier to flow under the building and set the device in motion. Since this was the first time she would try, she pulled down half of the levers and turned the circle halfway as well. She could always increase the difficulty if she found the exercise too easy.

First the swiveling of water disrupted the silence in the house, but few seconds later it was drowned in wooden clatter of gears moving under the floor. Everything was ready. Gilda removed her cloak and folded it by the levers and again checked the harnesses; a soldier who wasn’t at all times certain of his equipment was fated to die. 

She returned to the main room and found it completely changed. A number of doors opened in the formerly compact walls although Gilda didn’t notice any grooves on them previously. Wooden figurines had ridden out from their closets and were drifting all over the room led by rails on the ground, curving and spidering all over the room. Each figurine had a weapon affixed to it and was swinging or rotating it thanks to a clockwork inside and Gilda would swear she spotted darker stains on the edges. In shape the figurines resembled various races from ponies and griffons to minotaurs and everything inbetween. Some even simulated flying opponents, rising and descending on their riding pole in seemingly random intervals.

Now she understood why nobody rushed to train here. Even though the weapons of the figurines were only wooden replicas, getting hit by them could and would cause a very painful injury. She watched the figurines dance around the room for a while, seeking some pattern in the movement. There must have been one, but the cycle probably exceeded her imagination. The engineers of old who assembled the device centuries ago must have made a lot of effort. 

She pulled her sword from the sheath and held it in front of her in a greeting, using her wings to balance herself on her paws. Then as a convenient moment presented itself she charged into the room, getting herself right in the middle of the fray.

The untraceable paths of the figurines were meant to simulate the chaos of battle. Griffon soldiers usually trained on various obstacle courses, but that could only teach them particular maneuvers or sequences at best. In the battle they would hardly ever have the luxury of easily readable situation, having to improvise in split second. The device had a potential to teach them just that. 

She decided to see just how agile she had gotten first, opting to dodge the attack rather than blocking them, using the sword only as a counterweight in pirouettes. The figurines were moving a bit slower than live combatants would, providing her with enough time to position herself properly for every attack. At least for a while.

As she was just getting warmed up, the speed of the figurines began increasing. She didn’t notice at first, her skill providing her with enough reserves to compensate without even knowing. Soon though dodging became more difficult, forcing her to sidestep constantly and sometimes throw herself into a roll. 

“Alright, those cunning bastards built in an automatic speed-up. Pretty nice, but I can speed up too! Let’s see how you handle my sword!”

Wood met metal in a dull thud and Gilda pushed herself from away from the assailant. She had trained with many masters, surpassing her not only in skill, but mainly in physical strength, so she understood some attacks couldn’t be repelled or even stopped. These figurines amounted to just that kind of opponents. 

While they didn’t pose a problem at the beginning, Gilda soon found out the rails had also another purpose apart from leading the figurines. They were making her consider every step if she didn’t want to sprain her ankle. Along with the increasing tempo of the encounter it was challenging her to give the fight her all.

Heaving a bit from the furious combat, Gilda was about to fight her way out of the room, when the clattering from below now in the rhythm of a speeding train was suddenly joined with scouring of wooden panels shuffled away. She spared a glance around and to her horror found the open door on the wall in twice the density than before. The second half of the figurines had joined the fun.

The real struggle had began. The cycle led few of her opponents away from her for a second, letting her catch her breath a little, but they were soon back and twice as furious. She was swinging her sword in all directions, recalling every lesson she had taken, while at the same time constantly changed position and sneaked among the figurines. Several times she attempted to take flight, but always encountered the problem of limited space, having to retract her wings back. 

So far she suffered only few lighter hits, which wouldn’t cause any major damage even if the weapons were made of metal. However, she couldn’t tell how long luck would stay with her. They said that device simulated a fierce battle, but Gilda knew better. It was much worse than anything you could get into on the battlefield, because foes, however tough, could be killed. The figurines just kept coming!

They were still gaining speed! Now they rivaled the quickest of fighters Gilda had seen and it still wasn’t all. The noise turned almost into a deafening buzz. They swarmed her like killer hornets and were still getting closer, pressing her into desperate defense. Why were they so mean to her? She was having trouble enough and they still wished her more pain. They wouldn’t just let her go. She needed shelter and they kept attacking.

Sweat was flowing in her eyes and her drenched hair kept blinding her. Over the combined curtain she watched her foes with something she hadn’t felt for ages. Fear. The figurines’ uniform faces shifted and assumed looks of ponies. She had seen all of them before, in reality and in nightmares. The angry faces she met in Ponyville. They pressed her and scorned in her time of need, It wasn’t her fault! She wanted rest, not their hatred! Bastards! Kicking a dying one! The fear had moulded into anger.

“RAAAARGH!” She grabbed the sword in both talons and charged the closest figurine, countering its blow with such force that the wooden weapon broke in half. “I asked for help! You could have just refused!” Another figurine splintered, losing its head along with its spear. “Harmony and friendship! Kind pretty ponies! Fuck you all!” 

Rage was coursing through her veins and she was more than willing to let it loose. Wood chips were flying in all directions and soon the path to freedom opened, but she had no intention to flee anymore. Every single one would pay.

One of the ‘flying’ ones neared her, holding a flail in its hooves. Blue hooves, violet eyes and multicolored mane. The one who turned her back on Gilda. “You are gonna die!” She jumped and in one hit cut off both the wooden wings. Then she tackled the maimed figurine so hard the riding pole snapped. She raised the sword high up and beheaded the figurine. She didn’t have time to celebrate the victory as she sensed another presence behind her. Reflexively she swung from a half-pirouette and was met with a metal clash.

“My, my. Just as furious as the first day I see. I must say, I am impressed. You have beaten the device. LIterally.”

Gilda jumped back from the newcomer, gazing angrily into his golden eyes. All griffons were carnivores, but from this one’s gaze you could tell he prefered to kill his food with his own beak. She actually saw him do that on several occasions. Today she wasn’t feeling like a prey though.

“Was it you who turned this monstrosity to max?” She reared on her paws again and lifted the sword above her right shoulder. In return the newcomer spinned his black steel battle staff few times and assumed a stance as well. The blades on the end of the staff looked razor sharp. 

“Why of course. You don’t think there are any ghosts in this house, do you? Although some fools died here, that’s true. Those unworthy of passing the test.”

“You don’t say.” They charged at the same time and their weapons collided.





Gilda woke up from her light sleep. Not that she was rested, but it’s hard to sleep when you are shivering from cold. She sat up in her nest of cardboard boxes and old rags and looked around. Yep, still the same dirty alley she had been sleeping in for a while. Since she returned from Equestria, to be precise.

“What was I thinking anyway? That everything would be okay there? That she would feed me? Gilda, you idiot!”

She wasted the last of her money on the journey to Ponyville. At flight school, Rainbow Dash was her best friend. They promised each other, they would forever have each other’s back. Pubertal mushy nonsense. Unless that was Rainbow’s opinion of having someone’s back. In that case, sooner or later her new friends were in for a nasty surprise. They would find out on their own though and they would deserve it.

Her stomach rumbled loudly. Oh yes, she hadn’t eaten in a day or two. “Damn you, I don’t need reminders.” She got up and brushed some of the dirt away from her coat and feathers. Her wings needed preening, but in her current state she wouldn’t manage flight anyway. 

She had been in a lot of trouble before the way to Ponyville already. Finding job posed a horrible problem in the Griffon Kingdom and for a low class hen like Gilda, it was nigh impossible. Most would opt for marriage, but without means to prove her lineage, that path was closed too. Ponyville sounded like a good idea, but when it turned out a dead end, everything got even worse. She barely saved enough money to get back to her homeland, but that was about it. Nobody cared if you died in a gutter in the Griffon Kingdom. It was how it should be.

Leaving the nest behind, fully intent on killing anyone who would try to occupy it in her absence, she began her stroll through the streets. For some time after her return she tried to look for job again, going to every business with a ‘staff needed’ sign on the door, but to no avail. Eventually, she gave up and concentrated on pure survival. That included finding out where to feed when necessary. 

She pressed her way through the crowded streets, asserting herself against the passer-bys when necessary. You needed sharp elbows if you lived in the streets. The day was grey and hostile just like the griffons around her and the city itself. The kingdom had seen better days. The dumpsters were never empty though.

She turned into another alley and neared one she knew would contain left-overs from a nearby restaurant. When she lifted the lid and was about the search through the garbage, she heard steps behind her.

“Bon appetite, if possible. I can’t imagine that fulfilling though.”

She turned quickly and gazed at the griffon in the entrance of the alley. She briefly noticed his purely black coat mostly hidden by a grey military tunic, but his golden eyes drew her attention like a magnet. Murder was written in them and they taunted her, something that couldn’t go unanswered?”

“Why don’t you just fuck off?” she shouted angrily and took a step toward him.

“Well, I was about to give you some money for a proper meal. You need it, you know.” Gilda found herself moving forward still and her mouth started salivating. Could it be that somebody would help her? Of course not. That smirk on his face said it clearly enough. As did his words. “But since you have no manners, I want something in return. You must beg.”

She wouldn’t. She didn’t beg Rainbow for help despite being friends and she definitely would give this bastard that pleasure. Griffons would keep their honor in all situations, even if it meant starvation. She spat on the ground and turned back to the dumpster. 

“I honestly thought you would do so, such a pitiful creature.” She was ignoring him, searching through the bags for anything at least remotely edible. He wouldn’t bug off though. “It’s no loss for me though. To humiliate someone, they must be worth something first. Not like a stray dog.”

She clenched her talons in the dumpster. She reached the rock bottom and it still wasn’t enough. They wouldn’t let her slowly die, they would point at her and laugh. She had enough. 

“Stray dogs bite!” she shouted and pushing herself up with her paws, she started into the air and directly at that demon-eyed griffon. She savored the moment when his face lost the haughty expression and turned into surprise. Her claws cut into his tunic and even though she didn’t pierce quite through, she still tackled him.

Her luck ended there though. She was weakened from malnourishment and this griffon belonged to military. He quickly threw her off him and after dodging several of her swings he pinned her to the ground.

“Look at that. So you aren’t broken yet after all. I am impressed.”

She was thrashing around under his claws, but nothing came from that. She was slowly going limb. “Let go, you nasty bastard!” She tried to peck him her beak, but he just slid his talon a bit further. “Let go!”

“Firstly, my name is captain Onyx Blaze of Royal Versatile Force, not ‘nasty bastard’” He pressed her neck with one talon, cutting her from air. Her lunges soon began to burn. “Secondly,” he continued in a satisfied tone, “letting you go would do you no good at all.”

Black and red spots were dancing in front of her eyes. The end was near. Over the haze she could still make out the griffon though and it seemed two more were approaching. The Onyx Fire turned his attention to them and beckoned them closer. “Bring her to the barracks and treat her.” Then Gilda blacked out.





Blow after blow they were trading and danced all over the room. The maimed figurines were still riding all around them, bound to their rails. Neither one paid them any mind. They had their opponent and the combat was all they cared for. 

“I’m not a broken stray dog anymore!” Gilda shouted when they parted for a moment, measuring the opponent and deciding further strategy. That staff gained a lot of fame among the soldiers, almost the same amount as its bearer. According to some rumors, the blade could turn around to point in right angle with the handle. Not just thanks to that was Onyx Fire nicknamed Reaper. For those who failed, the entrance combat exam of Royal Versatile Force turned into a fight to death.

“I know. You weren’t back then either. That’s why I picked you up from the streets. Now give it all!”

They sparred for a while, circling each other and seeking for an opening. Using sharp weapons, they had to rely on the reflexes of the other one to stop the blade before delivering a killing blow. The steel was ringing and the number of rails on the ground was rising.

“Tell you what,” Onyx Fire shouted when he parried another of Gilda’s furious attacks and made her back away. “Whoever loses will take the responsibility for this mess by the superiors.”

Gilda wiped the sweat from her eyes and swirled her sword, to relax her wrist. “Why would you bother with that? I went here on my own.”

“Somebody has to keep saving you, Gilda. Besides-” he spread his wings and took to the air at lightning speed, “-losing is not my style anyway!”





The bars of the cell slid to the side and Gilda shot up from her bed, saluting to the prison guard officer in front of her. Getting punished for breaking rules didn’t mean she was exempt from them during that period. 

“The summons arrived, private. Follow me.”

“Yes, sir!” Gilda walked out of the cell and kept one step behind the guard, marching briskly. She didn’t glance left or right even when some of her friends came in sight. Until she would face her punishment, she couldn’t count herself to the other soldiers at all.

Over her two years of training she had grown really fond of the place. The training camp she was brought to initially against her will gradually became her flock. At first she simply appreciated having more food than just enough to survive and a warm place to sleep. But as the rhythm of the military life drilled into her mind, she started enjoying the exercise and cherish the skills she gained as well as friends. 

They reached the office of disciplinary officer and the guard pointed at them. “You are expected. Go right in.”

“Yes, sir!” Gilda opened the door and marched in, the guard taking care of closing them. A sand yellow hen was sitting behind the table, her grey tunic sporting an orange strip on the right sleeve, an insignia of Disciplinary Force. A file cabinet taking one entire wall was the only piece of furniture making company to the writing table. “Private Gilda reporting in, ma’am!”

“Very well. I suppose you know why you were brought here.”

“Yes, ma’am. I used excessive force against three other trainees in a skirmish yesterday. The ferocity of my attack was not adequate for the training combat and I failed to stop once they were defeated.” She had constant trouble with temper and knew well just where it could lead. She lost herself in the blaze of combat and her friends got harmed. They wanted to write it off as an accident, not keeping a grudge against her, but she insisted on reporting the whole incident.

“I take it you admit your guilt then. That’s surprising.”

“It is my duty to take responsibility for my mistakes, ma’am! I am ready to bear consequences of my lack of discipline.”

“Good to hear that. They will teach you discipline alright where you are headed.” The hen got up from her table and handed Gilda an envelope. “Normally, you would be given two weeks detention and reduction of allowance. If the injuries wouldn’t heal in time, it could lead to expelling you from the training too.” She paused for a second to read Gilda’s reaction. Gilda’s poker face must have had flaws since the hen nodded with satisfied smile. “That’s beyound the point though as an official request arrived this morning. Captain Onyx Fire himself asked to be put in charge of your disciplination. According to him your performance in the combat was extraordinary and should be developed further. You are therefore assigned to his unit. Report to him immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am!” She left the room without letting any emotions show. Deep inside though, two particular ones were waging war - an elation that the famous captain Onyx Fire wanted to train her and a rage caused by the old memory of him.





“What would you do if I didn’t mess up that skirmish?” Now the pillars had scratches on them too, the two combatants holding nothing back. What little remained of the figurines after Gilda’s rampage now lay in splinters. If the house wasn’t soundproof, they would have drawn attention of the whole base.

“I would have bribed somebody to get hurt intentionally. Or maybe I would taunt you again.” He swung the staff at Gilda’s left shoulder and as she moved to parry, he reversed the swing and let the other end attack from the right and below. She just barely managed to jump away. “My, you are slowing down. Tired already?”

“Hey! It wasn’t you who danced with those figurines for eternity!”

“Making excuses, aren’t we? Not to mention that you should call me captain at all times.”

“You should talk less and concentrate on defence!” She stroke in the opening presented to her, aiming at his left wing. Too late did she realise it was a trap, leaving herself exposed to a hit. The blunt side of the blade collided with her side and threw her through the air. She regained control though with use of her wings and flew against Onyx Fire again, hits of her heavy sword raining down on him. 

His smile was unnerving her. She had the upper talon at the moment, pushing him deep in the defense, yet he still smiled. She bombarded the staff from left and right, not leaving him no time to attack himself. He didn't have any trouble parrying all the blows though. 

She couldn’t go on for much longer. Putting some distance between them, she caught her breath and weighed her options. She saw no other option than to deliver one final blow with all her might. If it wouldn’t work, she would be defeated. And he was still smiling! She gained speed, holding the sword ready above her right shoulder, and swung down.

He did flinch a single bit as the staff fell to the ground from his talons. It clinked against the floor and remained lying by his paws. 

“You better pick that up, you cheater!” Gilda shouted angrily, face only few inches from his.

“Whatever do you mean? Your attack disarmed me. I am defeated.”

“No you are not! You dropped it on purpose!”

“Are you suggesting that a captain of Royal Versatile Force would give up a duel? Don’t be ridiculous.” He let himself drop to all four and returned the staff to its harness on his back. “Now if you excuse me, I have to go see the superiors about the damage inflicted to the device because of me.”

Gilda stared after him as he slowly walked toward the door. Despite the furious battle they had waged, he looked in a pretty good condition, judging by the spring in his step. She put the sword back into the sheath and looked around. The damage inflicted would surpass her yearly salary. By a lot. That dulled her anger caused by ‘winning’ a little. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Onyx Fire shouted, standing already in the door. “You better put your equipment in perfect state. Versatile Force got new assignment - a small unit will accompany ambassador to the domain of lunar princess. You are in. See you later!”

“But I… How can I… I haven’t even finished training yet!”

He didn’t even slow down his pace across the courtyard, only glancing over his shoulder. Gilda would have sworn he was smirking and mockingly raising eyebrows, but the darkness made it hard to tell.. “Why, whatever do you mean, lieutenant Gilda?”





“Are you comfortable, father? Shouldn’t I bring you another blanket?”

“Thank you, Pine, but with another there would be no more place in the armchair for me.”

“Oh. Uhm maybe some tea then? I could prepare some in a jiffy!”

Sequoia had to smile at the insistent willingness of his son to fulfill every need of the older stallion. It started on the gallows already, Pine letting him lean against his side for the whole journey home. He would have carried his father on his back if Sequoia allowed it, but that would have only put unnecessary strain on him. 

From that point Sequoia was centre of attention of the whole household. Food would be served when he got hungry, the house went quiet when he went to bed, his every single wish became a sacred command. Everything to alleviate his suffering. As if he was some sort of martyr. He felt deep guilt for that. He was the last pony in the world they should have cared for and organized their lives to accommodate to. He caused his fall himself and dragged them all good way down with him.

They didn’t see it though. All they wanted was to please him, rejoicing he was returned to them. While he somewhat expected that from his son, he never guessed just how liked he was among the staff. Then again, while he used to never forget their lower social standing, he also never abused them or made them feel inferior without a good reason. Sometimes that was all the ponies needed to stay content.

Before that whole affair, he would have let them fret around him all they wanted. But his views changed considerably, the factual loss of noble title playing only minor role. He lost his illusion of omniscience and omnipotence and knew for certain that those around him were by no means worse being than him, mostly actually much better. That’s why they deserved care too.

“I still have some left, it will be enough,” he said softly, showing his son the cup.

“Then maybe a sandwich? I could-”

“Pine!” The slight emphasis on that word halted the younger stallion’s offers and made him stiffen a little, which Sequoia didn’t intend at all. He sighed and lifted himself from the armchair to hug his son. “Pine, I appreciate your attention, but shouldn’t you get some rest too? You have barely left my side the past week. You must be exhausted.”

“Oh, that’s nothing at all, father. I can manage.”

“So can I, surely for the evening at least. Go get some sleep, you need it.” 

“If you are sure you don’t need anything else..” Pine reluctantly made his way toward the door where he stopped and turned back again. “You shouldn’t stay up much longer. You still haven’t recovered fully.”

Sequoia chuckled at that; it wasn’t that long ago when he was the one making sure Pine went to bed in time. How the roles could change in few years… “Don’t worry, Pine, I will go to sleep soon.”

“Alright. Goodnight, father.”

“Goodnight, son. I love you.”

As the door closed quietly, Pine making sure not to disturb his father at all, Sequoia returned to his armchair and slumped in limply. It was the high time, he wouldn’t have been able to fight the weakness much longer. As he relaxed the dizziness broke loose and drugged his mind into a turmoil of pain and confusion. 

He was sitting still, only his contorted face betraying the suffering he was going through. He was waiting patiently for it to go away on its own as he knew it would. This wasn’t the first seizure of this kind; the first one, fairly short and weak, appeared the fourth day after he was pardoned. Since they they were growing in intensity and length alike. He wasn’t plagued by them without a reason - they were meant to remind him that his time was limited.

The pain subsided slowly and senses returned back to his consciousness. He was still sitting in his armchair among se had brought for him over the past few days. Fire was still calmly humming in the hearth and several lamps were bathing the study in a soft warm light. He breathed a sigh of relief. This seizure was the longest one so far and toward the end he worried he misjudged his possibilities. He almost did.

That night before his execution pain and void of his loss were taken away from him and replaced him clarity. He didn’t understand the purpose of it back then, but as they came for him in the morning to lead him to the gallows, he clearly saw the fault of his ways and damage he caused to those around him. Nothing was hindering his mind anymore and the serenity and acceptance of his guilt would then win him Celestia’s pardon. That would only delay the inevitable though.

Through the pardon his wish was granted and he got to see Blueblood’s downfall. While he experienced some satisfaction from the rightful punishment of that snobby unicorn, as did most of the ponies in Canterlot, although they wouldn’t openly admit it from fear of being seen as Hexarete Front supporters, Sequoia quickly realised that although he had yearned for it, revenge wouldn’t appease his heart. 

At that moment the wisdom of his mistress manifested and along with what he wanted he was granted what he unknowingly needed the most - a chance to mend what could have been mended. His madness didn’t return right after he read the articles about Blueblood’s dramatic demise, nor did he succumbed to the depression after he heard several friends express their delight with it. He had time and he was bent on using it wisely.

Tomorrow would mark one week since his cancelled execution and Sequoia could say with clean conscience that he spent every second of that time to the best of his ability. His foolish attempt at overthrowing Celestia transpired without much preparation and his personal affairs had been left in complete mess. Trade partners needed to be contacted and the trades reestablished, Pine would become the new owner and manager of family endeavors and the old hassles would be quenched. 
 
He sorted out the items on his table, bringing forth several papers. Contracts, property deeds, transfers, they still required his signature and since he couldn’t perform the same calligraphy he used to, he would add the family wax seal. He performed that action so many times recently, it didn’t even pose a strain for him.

While the wax was cooling, he scooped the remaining records into a black file and taking it in his teeth carefully he carried it to the library housing many more, the long history of the house described with numbers and old names inside them. Since he was already by the library wall, he couldn’t fight the temptation of a hidden cabinet housing a bottle of very old whiskey. He had been saving it, only pouring a glass at special occasions - his marriage, birth of his son, founding of Dominion and such. That day would definitely count.

Thankfully, a convenient glass was already present at the table, so he didn’t have to make another journey back to the cabinet. Over the short time he had lived without magic, he grew to appreciate how much the other races managed to do with such unfit appendages as hooves, not to mention mouths. Every activity became a strain and he was getting annoying cramps in his neck muscles.

He poured himself a hefty glass, briefly considering venturing to the kitchen for ice, but then assumed beverage of this quality could only suffer from additions. Taking a sip, he wallowed it in his mouth for a few seconds, savouring the velvet texture and full taste. It was heavy on the tongue, with undertones of honey and oaken wood, containing the patience of years since it was brewed. But behind all of this the sharpness of alcohol wouldn’t be dulled, sending the burn through his veins. Just like in his mind, the calm currents were hiding a thorn. 

The last batch of papers finally reached the state at which they could have been piled on each other. With the table now almost empty, it was time to deal with one more letter. He grabbed the quill in his hoof and began carefully writing. That one needed to look impeccable, it was for his son.

Aside from all he managed over the week, the biggest gift from his mistress was the time he got to spend with his son. Why he had never taken a break from work to enjoy his company, he didn’t quite understand. Maybe it had something to do with how they had divided tasks in the family; his wife would raise their son while Sequoia would support them materially. He should have taken both roles when his wife passed away all those years ago. On the other hoof, would he do such a good job as the tutors? He wasn’t sure.

Either way, the last week counted to the happiest in his life. Both father and son were suddenly confronted with the very real possibility of never getting the chance of speaking to each other again, and took that experience as a warning and incentive. They would sit for hours, recalling old memories and probably for the very first time getting to know each other. While he always thought highly about his son, Sequoia became genuinely fond of the fine stallion his offspring grew into.

At the same time hit feeling of guilt for his unbecoming deed was fed with the same fondness. How could he pursue his personal gain with such abandon and inconsideration for his son? Pine deserved much better, not suffering. That was why Sequoia had to follow through that day.

Pine would probably argue otherwise, claiming that Sequoia was no burden at all and that he would gladly take care of him, but Pine didn’t know the full truth. He would learn first from the letter that there was no help for his father. The surges of dizziness told Sequoia that his relief from the madness he lived with in the prison would return soon, that the mercy was only temporary. It would flood him again and throw him into a vortex of pain and darkness. The being carrying the name of Sequoia Crown would vanish. 

Sequoia’s eyes roamed around the dimmed room, stopping at various objects around as he drank his second glass. Portrait of his wife was hanging above the fireplace, smiling at him eternally from the palace gardens of years ago. Richly carved and inlaid black pendulum clock ticked quietly on the opposite wall, showing half past ten. Aside from the business records, he kept a huge supply of books in his study; sometimes he would have pause in his work and read few pages of random volume. He wondered whether Pine would keep using the study. Hopefully it wouldn’t be bound with bad memories for him. The room always consoled, it didn’t intend to sadden.

It was time. He would rather take his body with him, than to leave it behind as a living husk, and even though he was certain of his fate, he prefered it to madness. He retrieved an old griffon dagger from a drawer. It was never meant to be more than decoration, what with its golden hilt and amethysts for eyes of the eagle it depicted, but the artisan sharpened it all the same. Third glass was poured before he grabbed the hilt with his mouth and drew the blade along the vein on his left forehoof. 

For a few moments he watched the blood rise from his fur, slowly streaming down his hoof and falling to the carpet. He briefly worried about the servant, to whom he added work, but Pine would surely compensate them. He let his hoof be, ignoring the small amount of pain it was causing him and picked the glass with his other hoof. In the little light escaping from the huge windows he noticed brighter specks. The first snow of the season was falling. The winter was coming, for Equestria and for him. He shivered slightly, but his worries were drifting away. He did the right thing and could rest. He needed to as well as he was becoming very drowsy.

When he woke up, he was no longer in his armchair. There was no hurry with getting up as nopony was rushing him and the sleepiness still reigned in his mind. Slowly he noticed he was lying on tall grass and that the discomfort of his hurt hoof remained a distant echo. Generally he was feeling more whole than in a long time. As if he didn’t even…

His hoof shot up to his forehead, but recalling the spikes of pain such reckless behavior brought to him in the past, he touched his horn very tentatively. His fear turned out unfounded as his horn indeed adorned his head in all its spiralling beauty. The confusion and giddiness at that were soon washed away with the memory of the last moments, providing the explanation. Apparently, afterlife had some perks even for him.

He briefly considered staying where he lay, feeling comfortable and safe among the rustling straws, but his sense of duty soon won over. He would face whatever awaited him. They would have come for him soon anyway.

As he picked himself up and rubbed the rest of sleep from his eyes, he found the grassy field stretched in all directions to good distance, waving in the pale light of stars above. They looked much brighter than those in Equestria and he watched in awe the meteorite showers, nebulas and galaxies above his head. In one direction though the stars dimmed compared to glow emanating from something on the ground. Sequoia chose it as his destination.

He walked in a relaxed tempo, never being one for sports. The grass was caressing him as he traveled to his destination and the wind seemed to whisper old tales, although he just barely couldn’t understand the words. As he drew closer, the source of light revealed itself to be a huge statue holding a glowing orb in its hooves. Even from the distance it breathed the air of majesty and honor. If a mere statue woke so much emotions, how would he have react to the being it depicted? He was certain the mere presence would diminish him to dust and he wouldn’t even mind.

White walls of much cleaner alabaster than Canterlot could ever dream of surrounded the base of the statue and he soon noticed a gate just in front of him. It stood open, as if asking him in, although if his assumption about the place was correct, he didn’t think that privilege belonged to him.

The proximity of the gate urged him forward, his steps quickening to trot  He left an overwhelming desire to get there, as if everything depended only on that. He couldn’t fight it and honestly didn’t want to, breaking into gallop. The walls grew with every second in his vision, much quicker than they had any right to based on his speed. His desire drew them closer.

Slowly he noticed a figure standing in the middle of the gate. Their head was hung low and they seemed curled into themselves. Slowly he discerned more of their features, spotting a dull ring above their head, barely touching a long unicorn horn. Their body shared the coloration and seemingly the texture of the walls, and they kept their eyes shut, as if they slumbered or wandered in the depths of their mind. Sequoia needed to meet them. He needed to feel their gaze upon him!

He galloped on, not feeling any strain from the movement and increasing the tempo constantly. When he got about twenty yards from them, they moved for the first time, lifting their head and opening their eyes. At the same time, two ribbon-like wings parted from the figure’s sides and swirled in an intricate pattern.

Sequoia tried to stop on the spot, but due to his speed it took him rather long and he finally fell to the ground in a deep bow just by their feet. If his mistress shone to him like a candle in the a dark cave, whoever this being was, they resembled a sun of high noon for pony since ever lost in polar night, radiating kindness and acceptance, but unsurmountable power at the same time. Their eyes glew golden, just like the harnesses across their chest holding a short cloak. A halberd with wide blade of the same color stood on its own within their reach, but they made no move to grab it.

“Sequoia Crown, we have been awaiting your arrival, yet your delay was quite welcomed. Stand tall.” Their melodic voice reverberated through Sequoia’s entire being, giving him no choice but to obey, despite there being no threat in the deep tones.

“Who are you, master? Why would a splendid being like you wait for me?” he asked with great reverence, basking in the presence of the gate’s guardian.

“My name is Lord Repentance, Principality of the Third Sphere. With others I have been tasked to weight the lives and split the foul from the just, obdurate from penitent. Thus, our paths had to inevitably cross, Sequoia Crown.”

Sequoia lowered his head even further. His mistress provided him with enough clarity to know where he belonged. But still, the absence of malice in the voice of Lord Repentance left him with a sliver of hope of different kind. “Then I will accept your judgment without protest.  I beg you for one mercy though. Allow me to meet my wife for the last time.” 

He clenched his teeth in anticipation of the rejection, which never came though. The answer he got confused him more than anything as his judge chuckled. “Why for the last time, Sequoia Crown? Wouldn’t you prefer to see her eternally?”

“How could I?” Sequoia looked up for the first time, noticing the amused expression on his judge’s face. He meant the question seriously though and awaited further explanation, which Sequoia hurried to provide. “That would mean drag her with me to Tartarus where she doesn’t belong!”

“Sequoia? I am happy you think so highly about me and that I hear you say it in person.” Another figure walked from behind the gate and cantered toward them, briefly bowing to Lord Repentance who nodded to her with a smile. Then she wrapped her hooves around Sequoia. “Though you made your way here quite in haste and you save no good words for yourself.”

“Glassy Rose? I missed you so much…” he reciprocated the embrace of his wife burying his face in her soft mane like he used to in their youth. In fact, she looked exactly like when the started dating, fresh, young and full of life, and he could feel the years slipping away from him as well.

“It was a long time, but we will no longer be separated.” She pulled away and grabbed one of his forehooves, tugging him forward. “Come! I will show you around!”

“Rose, wait!” He freed his hoof from her hold and turned his eyes to Lord Repentance again. “I can’t enter. That place is for the good and I committed horrible things.”

“Which you regret greatly and suffered dire punishment for in life already.” Lord Repentance beckoned him to enter through the gate and Glassy Rose immediately seized hold of his hoof again. “We are the last instance. If the living appoint a penalty and the offender turns to right ways, what cause would damnation serve?” 

Sequoia was listening with growing awe. After all the malice he spewed into the world, the perfect being in front of him found kind words for him and didn’t abhor him. “Are you saying I am allowed to enter Elysium, my lord?”

“Unless you wish otherwise, although my surprise would be inexpressible. Accepting guilt and actively trying to correct the wrong opens many gates, Elysian among them. Go forth and be in peace and joy. That’s your fate and my judgment.”

They ran in mirth into the streets and gardens of Elysium, rejoicing in their regained company and laughing just from the bliss. Death did them part and then led them together again. And once the time would come for their son to leave the cares of the world, the family would be complete again. 

The orb held by the gigantic statue he noticed from afar, now identified as beautiful member of the same race as Lord Repentance and his mistress, surpassing both in every aspect if perfection could have different levels, illuminated their path along with many smaller ones floating around, the alabaster buildings deep in sleep. Soft wind was playing with the leaves and added to the quiet murmur of fountains. Only from a distance did Sequoia catch the last words utter after him by Lord Repentance: “If the calling comes to you, we will help you answer it, Sequoia Crown.” He didn’t pay much mind to the quizzical message, for where he expected eternal damnation, he got a paradise to explore.