Reign Cloud and Maggie played with her two brothers and gaggle of sisters in a simplified game of hoofball. Reign was more tagging along while Maggie was in the middle of the fun. The park they played within was long and narrow, ringed with cottonwood and oak trees planted a few years ago. At one time, the park had been a monument to a mad king, filled with statues of grotesque scenes and conquests, always having Sombra gloating over his hapless subjects, reminding them who had the power.
Now, it was home to two ponds, park benches, two playgrounds and a large, grassy ball field. There was plenty of shade from the sun. One such shady tree sheltered a pair of mothers: one bearing charcoal gray chitin, the other of pink and purple feathers and fur. A large checkered blanket was spread out beneath them. Several picnic baskets were arrayed in a neat row to one side. Yamir was dozing next to his wife. His morning had been very long.
Cadence held Wilda’s hatchling in her forehooves. The charge in question nibbled on the tip of the princess’ hoof while Wilda put a camera to good use. She noted the hatchling had very small and needle-like teeth. The huge brood mother had an even bigger smile between her coos and giggles at her adorable and newest addition to her impressive family as she tried in vain to get her new daughter to look at her. Zinnia was oblivious as her eyesight gave her the world in a big blob of colors at this stage of her budding life.
The hoof was winning the attention contest. It was there, warm, and jiggled. Zinnia attacked it feebly, but with happy abandon. It would ruin Cadence’s hooficure, but what was a ruined hoof compared to the adorableness of a playful hatchling?
There were guards everywhere, obvious without being obtrusive. Everywhere else, there were changeling families at play, along with a smattering of Crystal ponies. An odd tourist appeared here and there, most of them giving the changelings wide berths.
“Hey! Your momma looks pretty happy to have little Zinnia to play with!” Maggie stopped running and hooked Reign with a leg, pointing him at Cadence. The ball skimmed away on the grass, chased by laughing and screaming nymphs.
He looked in time to see his mother puffing her cheeks and blowing a raspberry at Zinnia. “Yeah,” Reign said. He had tried all morning to be in a good mood. The dream from last night followed him like an unwanted shadow. Straying too far from his mother made him anxious. Every moment spared was to see and make sure she was there, watching.
“You shouldn’t be scared, Reigny,” Maggie told him sternly. “I won’t let anything happen to you!”
The colt turned his head slowly, watching the game as it barrelled from them, the nymphs too wrapped up in chasing the ball and laughing to notice the two had fallen from the group. The air had warmed since yesterday and the breeze only felt slightly less cold than he was used to. Blue eyes flickered towards the massively maned changeling filly, filled with worry.
“Promise?” he asked in earnest, his ears refusing to come up.
Maggie leaned into his shoulder with her own. “Why so glum-glum? Was the dream that bad? I dream about the history of the changelings all the time! Poppa says it's how we remember. The magic isn’t supposed to be good or bad, but the truth. At least, that’s what he says.”
“Promise me, Maggie.”
“You silly goose! Of course I promise!” She nuzzled him and gave him a hug. “Come on! They’re having fun and you’re not. There’s something definitely wrong with that.”
Grumpily he told her, “I’m tired.”
Her ears flattened and she deflated. “Thinking about your dream?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “It felt so real. I don’t know what it means or why it was so scary. It was worse than any nightmare I had ever had before.” A melancholy mood settled over him like a cold blanket. The Halfling was also fighting his angry urges, biting back the retort at the obvious question.
Maggie chirped with worry, fidgeting her wings and nuzzling her Intended. He was starting down the path to grouchiness. All the signs were there. He would be snippy and start growling, generally being unpleasant. She glanced over at her mother and the princess, pursing her lips. If they knew or even suspected Reign was ill, he would be taken inside and stuffed into a bed. Reign would become Bubble Colt and she would be denied visits until the alicorn had sent for Zeala. It was usually eat up a day or two with Reign bedridden and grumpy, Zeala lording over the castle, making ridiculous demands, as per usual. The priestess knew the nymph could not bear being told she could not see her Intended. Some excuse would erupt from between those fangs and Maggie wouldn’t be allowed to see Reign for days.
That could not happen.
Thinking quickly, Maggie spied a changeling vendor selling soft pretzels and drinks. Usually, getting something to eat helped settle Reign down. Food made him happy. Momma had brought food, but if the changeling filly so much as uttered a word in regards to Reign’s listless demeanor, the picnic would be declared over and the day would no longer be enjoyable as they would have to spend the remainder of it home. It was rare Reign was outside in public like this. This was the first time he had ever been in a park dominated by changelings. As a matter in fact, she noted as she scanned the area, there were no ponies save for the princess and a few guards keeping a respectful distance.
Her sister Rose approached, hovering on buzzing wings. She was a few years older than Maggie and was budding into a lovely young changeling mare. “Sister? Is something wrong with the prince?” She blinked, settling on her hooves and leaning in to sniff at Reign. “Why isn’t he playing with us?”
“I’m right here,” muttered Reign.
“Don’t tell Momma or the princess will take Reign away!” She grabbed her sister with a hoof and yanked her in. A conspiratorial whisper hissed from the mad-maned filly’s lips. “We just need to get him some food. Do you have any bits?” Food would help. Lunch wasn’t for another hour or two.
“Bits?” Rose parroted.
Maggie pointed at the vendor. “Yes. Bits. Shiny round objects of either gold, silver, or copper. Usually used as a means to purchase goods and services. Also known as money.”
“I know that, dummy! Why would I want to buy you something?” groused Rose. She was stingy with her money. The older changeling glowered at her adopted sibling.
“If it is not too much trouble,” offered Reign apologetically. He smiled a smile taught to him by his mother. It worked on his father, the castle staff, and the guards. It also seemed to work on suddenly blushing young changelings, too. The debate died right then and there. He knew what Maggie had in mind, flicking his tongue to the corner of his mouth. His stomach rumbled like a demanding god.
“Um, okay. Let me get my bit bag.”
Rose was blushing blue through her chitin. Her brothers and sisters began to call to them, their game paused as they were suddenly down three players. Suddenly the whole swarm was around the trio, bombarding them with questions. Words like ‘pretzel’ and ‘hungry’ made for a deadly combination. The elder filly was bamboozled into offering to buy pretzels for all with another devastating smile from Prince Reign Cloud.
Maggie glared at him. Leaning in, she brushed her muzzle against one of his ears and whispered, “Don’t make me jealous, Reigny. You wouldn’t like me when I’m jealous.”
Reign grinned, a rare thing considering his usual grumpy moods. The pair locked eyes for a moment before both started laughing at each other. The boy’s laugh was weak as Maggie’s laugh carried the weight of a meaningful glare. Mocking or not, she was bigger than him and was deadly with her noogie attacks.
“C’mon, guys! Let’s get pretzels!” shouted one of Maggie’s brothers. A cheer went up from the changelings and they marched with purpose towards the vendor. Soft pretzels were a favorite among young changelings.
Reign cast a nervous glance towards Wilda and Cadence. Both were watching idly. His mother still had Zinnia between her hooves while Wilda chatted. Zinnia was having the time of her life with a pink hoof. The two offered token glances in their directions. Both showed signs of being completely relaxed and unsuspicious. Their smiles were good enough indicators. Reign and Maggie sighed in relief.
“Momma’s gonna get mad when she sees us eating junk food,” moaned Violet, who was a year younger than Maggie.
“Look, Reign needs to eat something. He’s not feeling well.”
“Oh. Is it that... thing you were talking about? The illness?”
“No, his dream is still bothering him.”
“That’s silly. Dreams can’t hurt him or anyone!”
Reign sighed. “Still here.” He was ignored.
“I know that! Everyling knows that!” Maggie shook her head, clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Look. He needs to eat something or Momma will see he’s not well. Princess Cadence will see he’s not well and she’ll take my Reigny from me!” Maggie narrowed her eyes at Violet. “Not. Going. To. Happen.”
“Okay! Okay! Sheesh!”
The next few minutes was Rose shelling out bits so pretzels could be had by all. The group herded off to one side and under a large tree, still within sight of the adults. They munched happily on their treat, each changeling thanking Rose for her grand sacrifice. Idly the ball was rolled between the circle of nymphs, giving the younger ones a chance to kick the bright red ball without having to compete with their larger brothers and sisters.
Eventually, the pretzels were little more than memories and scattered crumbs. The brothers drifted off, leaving Reign at the tender mercies of a swarm of girls. They had noted some other changeling fillies closer to their age and decided to investigate. Besides, Reign was weak and not much fun to rough house with. Especially with Momma and the Princess watching. Discretely, they hovered off, offering quick smiles and a hurried words before chasing after girls. Maggie would not let him out of her sight now, assuming the role of caretaker/paranoid friend.
“Can I ask you guys a question?” Reign fidgeted. The question had been burning in the back of his mind since he had time to figure out it had been a dream.
Maggie glanced back at her siblings, who each wore various masks of curiosity. Literally. They had each selected the faces of various ponies and assumed outrageous expressions. It was a practice their mother had taught them in order to cheer up any sibling feeling down.
Reign smiled despite himself. “Seriously. Can I ask you a question?” He adjusted his wings and flicked his tail. The colt wore his most serious (and Maggie thought adorable) expression.
Rose was the first to revert to her normal face. “What is it?”
“Do changelings dream about things other than their history?”
Maggie shook her head. “Nopers! We only dream what Poppa gives us in our storytimes right before bed. If we don’t get a lesson, we don’t dream that night. Changelings don’t dream. You know that, Reigny!”
“We dream about our family history and give our family history to those we bring into the family,” added Petunia, who was Maggie’s age. She was a slight nymph with typical solid blue eyes like most changelings. If Reign remembered correctly, Petunia would eventually grow into some sort of a hunter, something royal changelings would covet for their ranks of bodyguards. Maggie had told him Petunia would eventually grow into a massive mare.
“So, you don’t dream like ponies? Weird stuff?”
They were watched, of course.
“Excuse me,” called out a voice in a strange accent. Maggie, Rose, Petunia, and Reign turned to see a rather exotic looking colt with a short blonde mane and tail with a white front fading into thick black stripes towards his flanks. His rump and rear legs were completely black. Large, curious blue eyes watched them. Curiosity wafted from the newcomer, his attention shifting to the fillies, but mainly focused on Reign Cloud. “Are you Prince Reign Cloud?”
The colt blinked, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled a new scent. “I am. Who are you?”
“I am Enigma. I am the son and heir of Prince Blueblood, my father and Prince of Equestria, Ambassador to the Zebra Confederacy and Enya Smokehoof, my mother and Shaman of the Wind and Earth, Caretaker of Peace. On behalf of my father and my family, I humbly ask for your forgiveness for the transgressions my father has in the past placed upon you and your family. I humbly submit myself to your judgement.” The odd colt bowed, then prostrated himself upon the grass.
“Huh?” Reign asked intelligently.
“He means ‘wat?’,” Maggie supplied helpfully.
I am not at the top of my game. I am not in the right frame of mind for this!
Shining Armor was in charge. Normally, he did not mind filling in for Cadence. Today was no exception. His wife had left him with the boring but necessary details needed to keep a kingdom from imploding from all the drudgery and demands of democracy while she dealt with Reign’s nightmare. Naturally, she would not leave him, not now. The nobility were being absurdly facetious, as was the norm. Shining would have thought it comical if not for the culture shock alone accounting for several unfortunate incidents over the years since his wife ascended the throne. Suicide rates accounted for a lot of premature deaths as some Crystal ponies simply could not cope with this new world. A thousand years behind and falling victim to the ruthlessness of democracy sweeping the citizens of the Crystal Empire had reduced them to little more than mewling malcontents in the eyes of the Prince Consort.
Of course, this made him feel like a boor, almost as bad as the nobles back at Canterlot. Shining Armor was a soldier. He was no politician. He neither the patience nor the knack for the intrigue. He was blunt, fair, and hated the verbal sparring. Cadence, of course was sympathetic to their crumbling way of life and tried to guide them through their changes with subtle hints and kindness.
“Kill them with kindness,” was what she would often remind her husband.
He had a sword made. Upon receiving the sword, he named it Kindness. Of course, nopony other than Cadence knew about the silly thing and his lovely and understanding wife thought the symbolism not at all what she meant. She let him keep the sword, so long as it remained locked in a wardrobe closet in their bedroom. Shining had no intention of showing anypony or anyone else the blade, but the idea made him chuckle to himself whenever a boorish noble tried to argue something of little to no merit.
He reserved his thoughts for less than a handful of nobles, actually. Shining Armor was a paragon when it came to his desire to protect those who had no means to. Even if it was nobles who were now only so in name and little else.
Right now, he was alone in the throne room, save for the usual arrangement of guards and his wife’s advisor. One day of the week was set aside for all those who wished an audience with either Princess Cadence or Prince Consort Shining Armor to come before the Crystal Throne and make their pleas to the understanding and fair ears of the Royal Court. He was considering moving court from the throne room to someplace a bit less formal and imposing. King Sombra had built big, with the intent of making visitors to the Crystal Castle feel small and insignificant. It was a place of beauty, to be sure, but not suited to Shining Armor’s tastes at all. He was a military stallion and preferred his surroundings simple and uncomplicated.
He sighed, bearing the worry for his son upon his mind. It was difficult to push it aside, but his wife insisted on going. And by insisting, she meant by flying into a frightening display of motherly protectiveness once word reached her through the message sent by those sent to keep watch over the Heir. The pressure of her magic was impressive as she teleported away. Her command had improved considerably since the wedding. Cadence had even insisted on combat training since the wedding. Shining was reluctant to do so, but his wife was very persuasive.
“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered under his breath. Reign needed him. His boy was a good colt. If only...if only! Damn that sickness slowly eating his son!
“Highness?” queried his wife’s advisor. Sierra Mist was a small Crystal pony with a powder blue coat and straw colored mane and tail.
“Let me see the list of petitioners.”
Sierra smiled and handed over a scroll bearing his wife’s seal. Shining opened it and noted the first name was not one he was familiar with. “Who is this?” He pointed a hoof at the name and tilted the paper so the advisor could see.
She scrunched her brows and peered at the top of the list. “Ah, I do believe he’s a changeling delegate representing a queen. Your wife the Princess was notified of his visit yesterday evening. Were you not informed by Her Highness?”
Shining Armor sighed and searched his memories. Naturally, they were a bit addled as he had very little sleep last night. The discussion with Cadence popped to mind. “He was a last minute addition, wasn’t he?” He stared at the list. What sort of name is Silent Wing, anyways?
“It’s possible he is from one of the queens fighting Queen Chrysalis requesting aid,” suggested the advisor. “He is an odd one, even for a changeling. He has been silent in regards to who he serves. Very secretive fellow. Ambassador Seeadler knows him. Would you like one of our guards to send for him? He has an open schedule today, if I recall. We do have an hour before we have the first audience.”
The stallion nodded once. “Do it. I want to know what is going on. Do we have a file on Silent Wing? Do we know what queen he serves? Why wasn’t I notified earlier?”
“My Lord, my apologies, but you were given his file last week. The arrangement was made last month for his visit.” Sierra Mist noted her Prince Consort’s confusion. “High Priestess Zeala will be arriving soon to act as mediator.” Her look of concern made Shining wince. “My Prince, are you well?”
“Fine! I’m fine. Maybe I simply have had too much on my plate lately,” he said reassuringly. “I’ll be all right. When is Zeala supposed to be here?”
“Any moment, my Lord.”
Shining nodded and cast a slow look around the massive throne room. He shook his head. “Move everything to my wife’s tea room. It’s a lot less formal and more welcoming.”
“Very good, my Lord. Anything else?”
He perused the list again. “Blueblood?”
“He was a last minute addition. The Prince of Equestria only arrived early this morning on the first train. Just put on this morning when one of the other petitioners for an audience with the Crown had to cancel due to a death in the family.”
“Where is he right now?”
“Asleep in one of the guest quarters. He brought his family with him.”
The unicorn blinked. “I see.”
“He has been abroad for the past eight years, My Lord.”
The early throbbings of an unwanted headache began to form. “Does my wife know?”
“Not yet, my Lord.”
“Send somepony to let her know, please.”
“As you wish, my Lord.”
The Prince Consort heaved a great sigh, his focus going distant as he jogged his mind for useful thoughts. They uncharacteristically drifted. For years Shining Armor had tried to break the formality of the palace staff. Sierra Mist was a very good pony and an even better advisor, but she had been indoctrinated with court etiquette to the point where it was impossible to get her to alter her habits to something a little softer. Being called ‘My Lord’ gave him a headache and nothing he could do could break the habit. Cadence tried to soften up the formalities around the castle, but she found out much to her chagrin there was an actual school specifically meant to train ponies who hoped to work for the nobility or, in her case, the Royal Family.
This meant whatever foals they might have could never be friends with Reign Cloud, for the simple fact he was royalty and they were commoners. It was another stain on the Crystal Empire the Alicorn of Love was working to get rid of. To this point, her successes were few.
Shining Armor recalled when she first suggested getting some foals Reign’s age some years ago from the servants together for a play date. The horrified ponies under her employment nearly panicked at the mere suggestion. Sombra’s reign was still very much fresh on their minds.
Resigned to a temporary setback, as it was in her mind, the princess then turned to the nobility. Much to her shock, Sombra’s touch upon the nobility was far, far worse. Rather than mingle their foals with each other with hopes of forming fast friendships and ties between houses, the tyrant had turned the houses upon each other. Distrust and suspicion was rife and corruption riddled almost all the noble houses of the empire.
The introduction of Maggie into Reign Cloud’s life both Sun and Moon blessed. It was one of the few things Zeala had done both Shining and Cadence could agree was one of the best things for their son.
Shaking himself from his wandering thoughts, he said slowly, “Let’s go ahead and have the griffon ambassador join us, as well.” Shining reasoned since the griffons had more intimate contacts with the elusive changelings beyond his kingdom, Seeadler might offer more insight as to what this changeling visitor might present. “He should have more insight.”
He rose from the throne and dismissed Sierra Mist with a nod, adding, “You’ll know where I’ll be. Send them when they get here.”
“Of course, My Lord.”
"And bring me that file on Silent Wing!" The Prince Consort looked cool and calm, but he was already beginning to wonder if there were strings being pulled and he was the puppet.