I did not remain abed and trapped in melancholy o’erlong, despite my considerable distress o’er what Celestia had done to me. I was a soldier of Pegasopolis, and as such accustomed to enduring far worse tribulations than emotional distress. I would do my duty.
For the moment, I sought to test my strength and ensure that all was well with my body. While Sunbeam’s spells seemed to have restored it to its former state, I was disinclined to trust muscles that had spent a month abed. ‘Twas only prudent to ensure that all was as it should be ere I entered combat, where the slightest imperfection might render the Commander’s efforts to preserve my life entirely moot.
After some brief consideration, I opted to request a spar from Sergeant Stalwart. Though he was not the best bladespony among my clanmates, he was a highly skilled instructor who would assuredly spot any flaws in my technique and quickly correct them. That would be far more useful than facing a pony who could equal my blade skill.
I stepped out onto the practice field, stretching my wings and readying my limbs. The sergeant stood at the opposite end of the field, similarly preparing himself. It had taken some time to arrange for a private spar with him, as much of my clan was quite eager to see my performance. ‘Twould seem that many wondered if I had been weakened after a month in my sickbed. Though I could hardly blame them for that when I sought to test mine own skills in no small part because I feared that those very concerns might be valid.
After a quick scan of the area to ensure we had no unwanted observers, I nodded to Stalwart and stepped forward. “My thanks for taking the time out of thy no doubt busy schedule to spar me, Sergeant.”
“Of course, 'tis my pleasure.” He paused, a wry grin stretching his lips. “And I could hardly refuse an order from my honored materfamilias, regardless.”
I chuckled and acknowledged his point, though I had hardly given him a direct order. Had he begged off doing so, I would have found another sparring partner rather than insist. “It has been too long since we tested one another. I had grown accustomed to having Gale as my sparring partner.” A moment after I mentioned her name I recalled her fate, the knowledge striking me in the gut like a physical blow. My daughter yet lingered in rebel captivity, yet I jested with my subordinates and carried on as if naught were amiss. I should be devoting mine every waking thought and moment to finding a way to free her. I could relax or joke once my daughter was safely returned to me. How could I call myself her mother if I did anything less?
At the same time, I knew the practical reality of the situation. My clan still needed its mater, and the rest of Equestria still needed me to support the Commander. The world did not stop turning simply because my daughter had been captured by the enemy. Bright had lost herself after her daughter’s death; I would not do the same simply because my daughter was in peril and I could do nothing to help her.
Sergeant Stalwart must have guessed at the source of my disquiet, for his face hardened. “We will get her back. I give you my word on that, honored mater.”
I took a deep breath, returning my thoughts to the matter at hoof as best I could. “Yes. Yes of course we will. I only wish I knew how and when she would be returned to us.”
Stalwart paused in his own preparations. “Honored mater, mine own child is amongst the rebels. Though I will not pretend the circumstances are identical, I think mayhaps it gives me some understanding of your troubles.”
He was likely correct in that. His family remained within the rebel camp, though unlike my daughter their presence was voluntary. Sierra Doo still fought alongside the rebel forces, and her daughter Astra was treated no differently than any other child whose parents remained loyal to the rebellion. Still, he had only seen her once since the war began when I had dispatched him to the rebel camp as an envoy.
Though given the dark turn the rebel cause had taken of late, his wife’s continuing loyalty to the rebellion no doubt troubled him. “Not everypony in the rebel camp has lost their minds, I am sure of it.” He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as much as me. “We know those ponies, not all of them can agree with what has transpired. They only remain loyal because of duty and honor, not because they approve of the madness that has become the rebel cause.”
“Aye, ‘tis likely so.” There had been no shortage of divided opinions amongst our own camp, and we had done nothing so terrible as the rebels’ dealings with warlocks. “But it matters little to us if they disapprove but remain silent on the matter. So long as they remain under arms against us and march with the rebel army, they add their strength to the Avatar’s cause.” I sighed and shook my head, feeling unaccountably tired despite the fact that we had not e’en begun our exercise yet. “But let us not linger on such dark thoughts. I have spent a month abed, and must exert myself as a warrior should.”
“Very well,” Stalwart answered with a dutiful nod. “I have worked with soldiers who were long in recovering from their wounds before. I would suggest we begin slowly, then gradually intensify the work as your body recalls its old instincts.”
“I will defer to your wisdom.” ‘Twould be foolish to recruit the best trainer within the clan only to ignore his advice in his area of expertise. “Though I will say that I do not wish to be coddled. If there is any weakness within me, I would know it now while there is still time to correct the problem.”
Stalwart chuckled and offered a half-bow. “As you command, honored mater. We are in private, so there is no need to worry about anypony overseeing anything they should not.” He spread his wings and planted his hooves, readying himself for battle. “Though given the fierceness of your reputation as a warrior, I suspect that ‘twill preserve my dignity more than yours.”
“I suppose we shall see soon enough.” I faced him with a dry smile as I snapped mine own blades out. “I presume I can trust thy discretion, should I prove so incapable that I am roundly beaten?”
The sergeant answered my smile in kind. “I am forever loyal to my honored mater.” His smile turned to a wry grin. “Even if I should defeat her like she is some fresh recruit who has not even touched a blade yet.”
Stalwart closed in on me, carefully measuring my defenses with basic probing strikes. I countered and blocked them to the best of mine ability, but my moves felt awkward and clumsy. I e’en missed one of my parries entirely, my blade passing in front of his too soon.
Stalwart frowned faintly, falling into the usual routine I saw him use with the clan’s newest members. “Wrong. Time your parries.” He struck once more, now specifically aiming to draw out the evident flaw in my combat style.
I tried to counter his blows, but soon noted that I was consistently missing. Stalwart held his blows back for a fraction of a second, allowing my counters to pass before driving home his own blades, smacking their padded length ‘gainst my breastplate. ‘Twas most frustrating to find myself so badly outmatched, especially when I knew I was capable of far better.
I grimaced and slowed mine own movements, giving greater thought and care to each motion of my blades instead of relying upon instincts carefully honed o’er years of battle and training. I had become so accustomed to my blades functioning as all but an extension of my body that I had not given deep thought to how they acted for some time. ‘Twas much like giving deep thought to how one’s knees moved whilst walking down a road.
Howe’er, in this case the unusual focus proved beneficial. After several more missed strikes, I began to grasp the source of my problem. “Curious.”
Stalwart paused in his offensive. “Is there a problem, honored mater?”
I opted not to share my revelations with him just yet. “I think not. More an unexpected boon.”
The spar resumed, and when next Stalwart struck my counters were flawless. Now that I had grasped why mine earlier strikes had been so poor, ‘twas easy to compensate. ‘Twas not long ere I had not only succeeded in defending myself, but had e’en shifted the initiative to my favor.
As I forced Stalwart back he grunted in exertion, nodding as quickly as he could manage. “Much better.” He quickly escalated his own strikes, trying to match my speed and skill.
I nodded, softly chuckling to myself. “Aye, I think I have thee now.” I trapped one of his blades with mine own and used it to pull him off balance, smacking my blade against the thin gap ‘tween his helmet and neck armor. Were this a true battle, I might have opened up his throat. “Oh damnation,” I hissed under my breath as I let him fall back to recover ere we began another round. “I think I shall have to thank Sunbeam Sparkle. And I am quite certain that if I do that, she will not allow me to forget it for many years hence.”
We resumed, and once more I quickly had the sergeant on the defensive, struggling to stave off my blows. He stepped back after I secured another victory, holding up his hooves in surrender as he paused to catch his breath. “What kindness has she done you?”
I grinned and closed with him once more. “I believe she has done more than merely restore my body to its former state.” I slammed a double-bladed strike down upon his upraised blades, making him stagger beneath the blow. “I feel faster, stronger, and more vigorous than I have for many a year. Mayhaps she healed the many minor aches and pains of age and use. Or mayhaps 'tis simply that after my prolonged rest I am quite full of energy.”
Stalwart grunted in effort and fell back, holding up a wing to request a moment to recover. “Whate’er the case, you certainly strike like a young and strong mare. For a mare who has not left her bed for a month, your recovery is phenomenal.”
“Aye. I feel as though I were ten years younger.” I grinned, rolling my shoulders and swishing my blades through a complex series of movements more akin to a blade dance than combat. “'Tis a most welcome feeling.”
“I would think so.” He paused, and a slight frown creased his face. “Though I cannot help but wonder why, if the Archmagus can restore an aged body to its prime, that knowledge has not been put to use more widely. There are many aged warriors who could be far more dangerous if the strength of their youth were restored.”
Mine own thoughts briefly turned to Grandmaster Crossguard and his noble death in battle. I cannot imagine that Sunbeam would have let such a valued ally fall if she had the knowledge needed to restore his youth. For that matter, she would surely have put it to use sooner, securing her political power and legacy. A mare who could restore even a portion of youth to the world’s aged and decrepit would have power o’er all, and Sunbeam was far too hungry for control to leave such a resource untapped.
I shook my head, dismissing the matter from my mind. “Aye, upon further reflection ‘tis unlikely that she is responsible for this. More likely ‘tis just that my body has forgotten the joy of combat after so long abed, and is now invigorated to rediscover it.”
Stalwart nodded. “Aye, I have seen such in other warriors, though the results were less extreme. But then, they usually did not have their wounds and slackened muscles instantly restored by an Archmagus. Who is to say how that could change things?”
“Aye, well reasoned.” I much preferred his explanation to my first instinct, and not only because it would spare me the indignity of being in Sunbeam Sparkle’s debt. I much preferred to fight with mine own strength rather than something granted to me by another. “So then, if my body is so eager to see battle, ‘twould be most churlish of me to refuse its desires, neigh? Shall we continue then?”
“Of course,” he answered dutifully, though his eyes betrayed his wariness. “Though it seems this will be a harder training session than I expected. I trust you will forgive me if I cannot match you at the height of your strength.”
I chuckled, feeling some of the easy confidence of youth flooding my heart alongside the vigor of my body. “Fear not, sergeant. I am given to understand there will be a wedding soon. 'Twould not do to have thee too badly bruised for it.”
“Aye,” the sergeant agreed. “The binding of our Nimbus to that unicorn knight she is quite taken with. ‘Tis said it will be quite the event. A feast—or as close to one as can be managed with the city on rations—bards, and what games and diversions we can risk. Word has it the rebels have agreed to a truce for the day as well, though of course we will watch them regardless. Still, ‘twill be good to forget the war, e’en if only for a few hours.”
“Aye, that it will.” A moment later, guilt struck me once more. To forget the war was to forget my daughter as well. I did not think I could do such a thing.
Rather than linger on such dark thoughts, I buried them as I closed in on the sergeant once more. It proved only partially successful, for as we sparred I was reminded of why Gale was my preferred partner. Stalwart was a proficient combatant, but years of instructing our clan’s youths had influenced his combat style. His strikes showed an unparalleled grasp of the fundamentals of blade combat, but he lacked the inventive flair of a true master.
That made quite the contrast compared to Gale. My daughter was e’er the experimenter, testing me with new and increasingly bizarre weapons whene’er we faced one another. Each time I faced her I was forced to grow and adapt, for she would not be the same mare I had fought before. Stalwart, while skilled within his chosen area of combat, was ultimately a warrior of limited dimensions by comparison.
As such, ‘twas not long ere I had the sergeant wholly on the defensive, unable to do anything more than desperately fend off my blows. Indeed, I ensured that he was so focused upon my blades that he entirely missed where the true strike would come from. Once I had him fully engaged, I slammed an armored hoof directly into his chest. He let out a loud grunt and staggered back, nearly knocked from his hooves. While he was so badly off balance, ‘twas simplicity itself to strike ‘gainst him and secure my victory.
He held up his forelegs and wings, signalling his surrender. To my surprise, I noticed that my blow had left a distinctly hoof-shaped impression upon his breastplate. ‘Twould seem that I had underestimated mine own strength. “Shall we end it here, then?”
Stalwart’s eyes fell down to his dented armor, and he grimaced. When he spoke, there was a hint of a pained rasp to his words. “Aye, honored mater, I think I would prefer that. I know my ribs most certainly would.”
“Mine apologies,” I murmured, my gaze lingering on the damage I had caused to his armor. “I did not intend to strike so hard.”
It seemed that my forced indolence had left me so hungry for battle that I would not be sated by a mere spar. A troubling thought, for I had ne’er seen myself as given to bloodlust. Aye, I have always had pride in my skills and taken pleasure in doing my duty well, but I had ne’er loved battle as some ponies did. I could only hope this change was a temporary one. I could not help but be reminded of Bright Charger, who of all the ephors revelled in the thrill of combat. Mayhaps that was part of what led to her fall from grace.
Stalwart stared at me curiously for several seconds, then slowly shook his head. “There is no need to apologize, honored mater. I took no significant injury, and a few minor bruises are all but inevitable when two grown warriors spar in earnest.” He glanced down to his damaged armor. “Though mayhaps I could consider adding more padding if we are to spar again.”
“I do not think we will,” I answered as gently as I could. “Though I found thy services most helpful, I would not wish to wound one of my most valued subordinates simply because mine own sparring proved too vigorous.”
“Ah.” I could hear the wounded pride in my sergeant’s voice. “Mine apologies that my skills were inadequate to your needs.”
“Neigh, nothing of the sort,” I hastily assured him. “I required a teacher, not a pony with unmatched combat prowess. I learned much of value from facing thee, and in truth thy skill as an instructor of young ponies is far more valuable to the clan than mine ability with a blade.” (1)
1: Considering Stalwart was one of many authors who contributed to the first edition of the Equestrian Guard Training Manual, his knack for training young recruits has continued to have an influence all the way into modern times.
With his pride salved, the stallion provided a genuinely grateful smile. “Of course, mater. Regardless, I had best see to mine armor. By your leave, honored mater.” He saluted, and I promptly returned it.
I was about to allow his departure when something about his choice of words struck me as curious. “Sergeant, a question. Why is it that thou dost address me as honored mater?” If he had done so but once I might have thought nothing of it, but upon reflection I was certain he had used the term quite consistently.
The sergeant blinked in surprise, then deferentially ducked his head. “It is ... something many ponies have taken to doing since you fell. Of late it seems one can hardly walk down the streets of the city without hearing talk of how our victory is near now that you are returned to our ranks. E’en amongst the unicorns there are many who speak well of you. It seems that ‘Honored Shadow’ is the name on everypony’s lips when they speak of hope for our future.” He paused a moment, then shrugged. “I suppose that I agree with such talk.”
He hesitated a moment, then quickly retrieved his saddlebags, digging through them and extracting a crudely written pamphlet, which he passed to me. I opened it, quickly reading o’er the contents.
‘Canterlot and all Equestria is in peril! The armies of darkness, led by the very avatar of the abominable Nightmare Moon herself, stand at our gates, and if they are not stopped they will destroy all that is good and decent within Equestria. We stand upon the precipice of disaster! Our queen seems powerless in the face of this growing threat! Who will save us?
‘Thankfully, my friends, there is an answer to that question. Shadow Kicker. Yes, Honored Shadow, who valiantly struck down both Bright Charger and her eldest daughter when the two of them ambushed her in the midst of a ceasefire. Though Bright has risen once more as a slave to darkness, the mare who slew her once shall do so again.
‘Let us stand together, and show these servants of evil that their death waits in the shadows.’ (2)
2. For once, Noun Verb’s frequent interpolations of the text of Shadow’s memoirs actually provided something useful. The above pamphlet text was not part of the first edition of her autobiography. Thus, despite my initial inclination to remove all of his influence on Shadow’s work, I have elected to preserve this particular addition.
By the time I was done perusing the material I was tempted to rip the paper to shreds. I did not care for the honors it heaped upon me, nor the lies used for no better purpose than to further enhance my renown. While I do not object to being recognized for mine accomplishments, the tone of this work was entirely wrong. It seemed altogether too fawning, and it disquieted me. All the moreso because it seemed that many ponies, mine own trusted sergeant amongst them, took the words to heart.
I quickly returned the paper to Stalwart ere my temper grew so foul that I acted regrettably. “My thanks to thee for bringing this matter to mine attention. Good day, sergeant.”
“And good day to you, honored mater,” he responded. “Despite the bruises it cost me, ‘tis good to see you on your hooves once more.”
“Aye, and 'tis good to be upon them,” I readily agreed.
Soon enough we arrived at the day of the much anticipated wedding of Nimbus Kicker to Sir Radiant Day of the Order of Sol Invictus. It seemed all Canterlot had turned out for the nuptials. At first I was quite surprised that so many unicorns had taken an interest in my clansmare’s wedding, given that she must be all but a stranger to them. Howe’er, I think they did not truly need to know her to celebrate the wedding of two of our most accomplished young warriors. And mayhaps more than that, the identities of the bride and groom were a secondary consideration; for most of the populace, the wedding represented an opportunity to forget that we lived in a city under siege and simply enjoy life’s simple pleasures for a few hours.
There had been some minor disputes regarding the execution of said wedding on account of the differences ‘tween unicorn and pegasus customs. In the end, the unicorns had largely won out on account of the wedding being a public event within a unicorn city. Pegasopolan wedding customs made a poor match for the pageantry Sunbeam intended for this event to display. Howe’er, Nimbus did secure a few vital concessions, such as the right to wear her armor instead of a ridiculous gown. A war heroine should be married whilst looking the part.
I sought out the bride-to-be shortly ere the ceremony was to begin. The wedding itself was to occur in the palace, as befit such a major public event. Whoe’er was responsible for organizing this o’erelaborate ceremony had decided that I should play the role of escorting her down the aisle to her new beloved. (3) It seemed a needless complication to me, but not so much of a bother than I objected to it.
3: Pegasopolan wedding customs were fairly simple, with the actual wedding ceremony only taking a few minutes. Each of the warriors would declare their devotion to their partner and present a token of some sort, usually a trophy taken from a particularly fearsome enemy or a valiant act on the battlefield inspired by their love. This proved that the warrior was a worthy partner, and could provide for their other half if need be. In the case of Nimbus and Radiant, their capture of Rightly Doo fulfilled that role.
Shadow also seems to be serving the ceremonial functions usually reserved for the bride’s parental figure during the wedding. As Nimbus’ father was still alive and well during the war, this was presumably a part of the general public spectacle of the wedding.
I found Nimbus attended by a mixed group of our young clanmares and a few unicorns who were busily working to make her as presentable as possible. I personally thought she already looked quite fine, yet one mare seemed to be obsessively toying with her mane while another polished her armor despite it already being at a mirror sheen. Weddings seem to bring out some of the more ridiculous traits in mares. One would think they had forgotten we were soldiers in a time of war.
“Clear the room,” I rumbled, instantly silencing all other conversation. “I would have words with the bride ere the ceremony begins.”
The bridesmaids wasted no time in removing themselves, though much to mine irritation several of them murmured soft apologies to ‘honored mater’ or ‘honored Shadow’ as they departed. Thankfully, soon enough the only ponies remaining within the room were myself and Nimbus. The bride-to-be smiled nervously, shifting about on her hooves and glancing out the window at the palace grounds, where servants were already hard at work preparing for the reception. If there was one thing both Pegasopolis and Unicornia agreed on, it was that a wedding should be followed by a grand feast and celebration.
I was briefly at a loss for words now that ‘twas time to actually speak to Nimbus. “My congratulations,” I began. “I understand that Commander Celestia herself will conduct the ceremony. That is a great honor.”
“Indeed, mater,” Nimbus answered softly. I was greatly relieved that she did not address me as ‘honored mater’ or any variation thereof. “I confess, I had not thought my wedding would be such a grand event. An entire city watching, the Commander herself conducting it, my mater escorting me down the aisle and passing my hoof to my new husband. ‘Tis all rather ... o’erwhelming. Would you think less of me if I confessed that I am almost tempted to flee?”
“I would not,” I stepped to her side, smiling gently. “A mare who has ne’er wed can hardly criticize a bride for her fears.”
“Why did you not marry?” A moment after the question left her lips, Nimbus’ eyes widened, and a hoof covered her mouth. “F-forgive me, mater. I should not have been so forward with you.”
“I take no offense,” I assured her with an easy wave. I paused, giving more thought to the matter than it likely deserved. “Poor choices and poor timing, I suppose. I took lovers in my youth, but none of them were the sort who I could see myself wedding.” I thought back to Copper, whose company I had greatly enjoyed but ne’er considered seeking a more permanent arrangement with. At the time, I considered the barrier ‘tween pegasus and unicorn insurmountable. Nimbus plainly put the lie to that belief.
I cast the thought of poor, murdered Copper from my mind. “Once I grew older ... the heart does not always make wise choices.” To my shame, my fondness for Rightly began whilst his wife yet lived. I tried more than once to set it aside, but was ne’er fully successful. “I suppose I made the error of thinking it could always wait for another day, until there were no more days left to me.” I chuckled bitterly, my mind upon the war once more. “Ill luck and poor timing played a role too. But neigh, ‘twas mostly mine own missteps that were to blame.”
I stepped forward, gently resting a hoof on the younger mare’s shoulder. “Do not repeat my mistakes, young Nimbus. Thou hast a fine stallion who loves thee dearly. Cleave to him. I know that this may not be the ceremony thou dreamt of as a young filly, but the baubles and trappings of thy wedding will only last for the day. ‘Tis the stallion thou shalt live with for the rest of thy life that truly matters.”
Nimbus’ gaze drifted out the window once more, and when I followed it I saw Radiant Day himself bustling about the courtyard, presumably making some last-minute preparations. His sister trailed close behind him, and to judge by the look of things she was as busy calming a nervous groom as I was with the bride.
I chuckled and gave her a fortifying pat on the back. “Aye, the two of thee shall be a fine match.”
For all the surrounding pageantry, the true heart of the ceremony was a relatively simple affair. I found it oddly reassuring that the bride and groom’s processions were more akin to military parades than the o’erdramatic specatacle I feared. My clan and the Knights of Sol Invictus both escorted their respective members to the altar and aside a touch of grandiloquence the final result was much like any other wedding. To one side was Nimbus and her bridesmaids; to the other, Radiant, his sister serving as best mare, and a few of his companions from the Order.
And in the center, Commander Celestia. She caught mine eyes as I escorted Nimbus to the altar, but I refused to acknowledge her. A wedding was hardly the time or place to speak of all that had passed ‘tween us.
Once all were in place, Celestia began the ceremony proper. Much of her address was the usual words one expects o’er the course of a wedding: reflecting on the nature of love and marriage in general, and the relationship ‘tween Nimbus and Radiant in particular. Howe’er, one moment in the speech caught mine attention, in no small part because she fixed her eyes upon mine whilst solemnly declaring. “Love, true love, is an act of sacrifice. To love somepony is to do everything you can to preserve their life and happiness. Sometimes we must even hurt the ones we love in order to protect them. It is an unpleasant and painful reality, and we can only hope that the ones we care for will understand our reasons in the fullness of time.”
She paused for a long moment after those words, nodding towards me so imperceptibly that I was not entirely certain if it had truly happened or if I was simply imagining it. That done, she resumed the rest of the ceremony.
I was not blind to her meaning. Her actions had indeed preserved my life, and I was not ungrateful for that. Howe’er, she had preserved my life at the cost of mine equinity. For all her assurances that ‘twas but a temporary issue, I was currently a suit of armor manipulating a dead mare’s flesh like some macabre puppeteer. I could not help but wonder if mayhaps the vigor I had displayed ‘gainst Stalwart in our earlier spar was not the product of indolence at all, but rather some fell strength gained as a result of my new condition. Or mayhaps my essence was simply not as aware of my flesh’s exertion or old pain if I were not encased within it.
Aye, she had saved my life, and she had my gratitude for that. In time she would have my forgiveness for it as well. But not today. Nor, I think, in any day ere mine essence was fully restored to my body.
Once the ceremony concluded, the newlyweds strode out into the richly decorated courtyard, surrounded by celebrants, well-wishers, and ponies who simply wanted to enjoy the wedding feast. I was, to my relief, seated at the high table in a place of honor as part of the bride’s party, as befit my status as materfamilias of the clan. Commander Celestia remained at the royal table, distant enough that I needed not fear her attempts to speak with me.
While the quantity of food provided for the feast was such that nopony truly feasted, the royal chefs had attempted to make up the difference by ensuring that what food was served was of the highest possible quality. I later learned that the wedding had been delayed for a month in part to ensure that it occurred when our perishable food stock was nearly spoiled so that we could eat well and richly without fear of wasting supplies. For a few precious hours, Canterlot did not feel like a city which would, by our quartermaster’s estimates, be forced to supplement our diet with rodents if the siege remained in place for a further six months.
After the food came the dancing. Forewarned of this hazard, I had availed myself of a book on the subject. ‘Twas not so complex as it seemed, and a lifetime of blade training had granted me a keen awareness of my hoofwork.
My first partner was the groom himself, whilst Nimbus danced with her new father-in-law. No doubt ‘twas some custom regarding dancing with the elders of the newly married couple. Radiant proved a skilled dancer who subtly corrected errors to my dancing form without so much as a spoken word to call attention to them. We danced in silence, save for my final words to him ere we parted ways. “Treat her well, else I shall be displeased.”
A faint smile quirked at the young knight’s lips. “But of course, Lady Shadow.”
As the married couple shared another dance, I found my thoughts lingering on young Nimbus. Treacherous as it seemed to e’en consider it, the cold, pragmatic center of my mind noted that if Gale should perish in rebel hands, she would make a fine heir to the clan. A young and accomplished warrior already beginning her legend and showing the potential for much greater things. Aye, she would make a fine heir ... yet to e’en think of finding a replacement for my Gale seemed like unto abandoning her.
And yet, mine own near-death and Gale’s capture was all the proof I needed that I must have a secondary heir. War was a dangerous thing, and my clan could ill afford to be leaderless. However, I should choose a new heir who I trusted to lead the clan at once. Nimbus and e’en Gale had much potential, but were not yet ready to lead in war. A pony who would be a great general in a decade was of little use when a general was needed now. Mayhaps ‘twould be wiser to choose a more experienced pony, like Sergeant Stalwart. (4) Sometimes present competence is more valuable than future brilliance.
4: While Shadow doesn’t mention it here, during her convalescence the clan resolved the leadership vacuum by naming Celestia as temporary acting materfamilias. Sergeant Stalwart served as her advisor on clan affairs during this period, and in all likelihood was the one actually responsible for the day-to-day running of the clan since Celestia was already quite busy ruling Equestria. While Shadow doesn’t discuss this in her memoirs, the fact that she considers him capable of running the clan indicates that she was aware of it.
A light tap upon my shoulder tore me from my contemplations, and I turned about to find myself facing the Commander. “Might I have this dance, Shadow?”
I could hardly refuse her in so public a venue. “Aye, Commander.”
And so we danced. The Commander moved with an easy, fluid grace which showed an easy familiarity that could only have come from centuries of practice. Though mine own skills in the area remained passable at best, she effortlessly guided me along, making it seem as though I was far better than I truly was. As we moved across the floor, I noted more than one couple pausing, their eyes locked upon our movements.
Would that words flowed as easily ‘tween us as our hooves moved. “‘Twas ne’er mine intention to upset thee so, Shadow,” the Commander murmured ‘tween our steps. “I would have preferred to have told thee of all that I did to save thy life under better circumstances. Neigh, what I truly wish is that I had been there at the front lines, so that I could have tended thee sooner. Mayhaps then thou wouldst not have had to suffer the indignities needed to save thy life.”
I twirled her ere I gave mine answer. “If you were at the frontlines, Commander, I would have told you to save my daughter and strike down Bright Charger ere you concerned yourself with my condition.”
For a brief moment her face darkened, and I saw the slightest hints of a terrible fury. “What the rebels have done to Bright Charger is an abomination. Had I known what madness they would unleash, I would have slain her myself to spare her that fate.”
“Instead you have made an abomination of your own,” I countered bitterly e’en as our hooves entwined with one another. “So that you might confront the Avatar with a being of equal capabilities.”
Though her hooves ne’er faltered, the way Celestia’s countenance fell made it plain that my remark had cut her to the quick. In truth, I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips. Yet words spoken cannot be unsaid. “I apologize, Commander. That remark was unworthy of me.”
“Yes,” she agreed simply, but without condemnation. “Yet it was also unworthy of me to place thee in so difficult a position. Shall we accept one another’s apologies, then? I would not have discord ‘tween myself and my greatest champion.”
“I think it may yet be some time ere I can truly forgive all that has passed ‘tween us,” I murmured as she spun me about. “Yet I desire to do so. Better that I live in this form than die and leave Equestria vulnerable and my daughter in peril. I cannot forgive you today, but there are many more days yet before us.”
“I suppose that will suffice.” The dance ended, and to my surprise she dipped me low and placed a single gentle kiss upon my brow. “Whate’er else passes ‘tween us, my noble champion, know that I shall always care for thee. Thou hast been my stalwart supporter from the earliest days of this crisis, and I would see that loyalty and honor justly rewarded. If e’er thee or thine are in need, call upon me and I shall answer.”
I nodded, grateful for the magnitude of the offer e’en though my heart told me that a royal boon was poor compensation. To be owed a personal favor by the ruler of Equestria was no small thing, especially when the offer came without condition or reservation. And yet, a part of me could not help but see it as an attempt to buy forgiveness.
Thankfully, the song’s end provided me with an easy excuse to part company with the Commander. Howe’er I halted in my tracks as the bards struck up a new tune, one of them proudly singing a ballad.
A ballad about myself, and my supposed duel with Bright and Lance Charger. ‘Twas a work of such utter fiction that I was of a mind to storm up to the stage and shatter the lute o’er the musician’s head. Ere I could do so, Sunbeam Sparkle strode up to me, imperiously extending a hoof. “I hope that Her Majesty did not set thine expectations too high? I am a fair dancer, but I could hardly replicate that performance.”
I saw little reason to refuse her, and as with the Commander refusing to do so would give the appearance of discord ‘tween us. “Very well, a dance it is.”
“Excellent.” Sunbeam proved a capable dancer, though lacking the Commander’s easy grace and ability to guide me with a subtle touch. Still, the two of us managed well enough, and she surprised me by smiling with unexpected warmth. “Thou dost seem to be recovering quite well.”
“I suppose I owe thee some measure of thanks for that,” I returned, answering her smile in kind. “Thy spells to restore my strength seemed most effective. If anything, I suspect I might be e’en stronger than I once was.”
“I had ne’er taken thee for a flatterer,” she answered with a low, throaty chuckle. “And I know ‘tis naught but flattery, for my healing arts can only restore what once was. ‘Tis the nature of my magic. Still, thy gratitude is duly appreciated. I put no small amount of work into preserving thy life and strength. I am sure thou wilt find a suitable method of repaying me.”
“Mayhaps I will.” A hint of anger entered my tone, for I knew that Sunbeam had doubtless played a role in bringing about my current state. Though curiously mine anger towards her was far less than what I felt toward the Commander. After a moment’s thought, I struck upon the source of the disparity: I expected such an act from Sunbeam Sparkle. The mare had unapologetically presented herself as willing to perform whate’er foul acts she judged necessary for the greater good. Commander Celestia, on the other hoof, held herself to a higher standard.
Sunbeam noted my displeasure, reacting with thinly veiled irritation. “Come now, what troubles thee? Didst thy conversation with the queen go awry, or is it simply that thou thinkest her a better dancer than me? I confess that she may be in some areas, but if the band struck up a fitting tune I would show thee moves she would ne’er dare perform.”
I tactfully ignored her latter statements. “Aye, matters ‘tween myself and the Commander remain somewhat troubled.”
Sunbeam sighed, grimacing and allowing me to take the lead in the dance for a few seconds. “Thou art far from the only one to be displeased with her. As my daughter’s loose lips have already revealed, I have had my share of disagreements with her as well. All the moreso in recent times, for with Crossguard slain and thyself wounded there is no other to moderate ‘tween us when matters grow heated.” She shrugged, seeming quite unconcerned by her ongoing feud with her queen. “In truth, I suspect that the only reason she tolerates me is that she knows the value of a dissenting view, e’en when less than kindly stated. Howe’er, my larger point is that I can quite understand anypony being displeased with her.”
I chuckled, though ‘twas a cold and humorless thing. “I take it thou hast some sage advice drawn from thy many troubles with her, then? Thou art ne'er shy in offering thine opinions as regards what all others ought to do.”
Sunbeam shrugged as the movements of the dance drew her nearer to me. Too near for my comfort, in truth. “It depends on what exactly troubles thee.” Her smile took on a cold, mocking edge. “Unless thou dost wish some vague piece of advice such as ‘believe in yourself’ or ‘friendship always carries the day.’ But if such empty platitudes were what you sought ‘twould be Her Majesty’s advice you wished for, not mine.”
I scowled, not in the least amused by her attempt at wit. Though I was displeased with the Commander, that did not mean I wished to hear her openly ridiculed. Howe’er, I knew all too well that confronting her o’er the matter would merely lead to an argument. I suspect that Sunbeam sometimes made outrageous statements merely for the pleasure of defending them when challenged. Rather than play her game, I denied her by remaining focused upon the matter at hoof. “I am sure thou canst guess at the source of my disquiet. Thou art aware of my nature, aye?”
“Aye, myself and Morning both played a part in preserving thy life,” she confirmed. “In particular, the Queen asked that Morning execute some of the more questionable spellwork which she did not wish to sully her oh-so-noble hooves with while I tended to thee whene’er she needed rest or her royal duties called her away. And all three of us played a role in forging thine armor as well.”
“By armor, thou meanest my new body,” I groused.
“Indeed so,” she answered breezily, brushing heavily against my side as we continued the dance. “I suppose I should not be surprised thou takest issue with thy current state, but I suspect your worries are o’erblown.”
“An easy thing to say when thou art not the one suffering the trouble,” I rumbled discontentedly. “While I am grateful for my life, I do not care to have it preserved by being transformed into an unnatural being.”
Sunbeam heaved out a put-upon sigh. “I give thee my word that thine essence remains unchanged despite all that we did. In truth, I find many ponies put far too much emphasis on their bodies as the core of their identity. When it comes to the truth of who and what thou art, what we did changed thee no more than trimming one’s mane.” She reached across my shoulder, idly toying with my hair. “Be assured that thou art Shadow Kicker in every way that matters. If thou wert some sort of monster or abomination, I would have set thee aflame the instant that became apparent. The fact that thou art not on fire speaks of mine opinion on the matter.”
“Aye, I suppose it does.”
We danced on in silence after that, which proved to be an error. So long as we conversed, I did not have to listen to the song the bard was currently in the midst of. The tale of how I supposedly slew both Bright and Lance when they ambushed me under a truce flag was naught but a foul lie, and if not for the fact that ‘twould spoil Nimbus’ wedding day I would have forced the bards to cease performing it. Though a part of me wondered if allowing such a brazen lie to go unanswered might equally sully the events.
E’er perceptive, ‘twas not long ere Sunbeam noted my displeasure. “Is the song not to your liking then?”
“'Tis a lie,” I answered simply, one of mine ears flicking in irritation as though the words were a bothersome insect. “A lie regarding myself and my deeds. Is it truly any surprise that I find such a thing offensive?”
She shrugged, seeming at quite a loss to understand mine objection. “Aye, ‘tis a lie, but what of it? 'Tis a lie that gives ponies hope during a time of desperation. And while by thy reckoning it may grant thee more glory than thou hast earned, it certainly does thee no harm. I call it a useful lie that serves the good of the realm, then.”
“Call it useful if thou wilt, but that does not make it any less a lie.” I paused, then glowered at her as a distressingly plausible thought struck me. “Thou art remarkably well informed of the song, and quick to defend its falsehoods.”
“But of course,” she agreed shamelessly. “I had half the bards and songstresses in the city competing to write anthems in thy honor. I find that a ballad is far more enjoyable when it has a simple, clean narrative structure. A bold, brave hero and foul, treacherous villains.”
I scowled at her. “I should have known ‘twas thy doing. It has all thine usual hoofmarks o’er it.”
She smirked, darting forward to kiss my cheek, then remaining close to whisper into mine ear. “Come now, Honored Shadow. If thou dost but give it a moment’s thought thou wilt see that there is little reason to be upset. Thou art a hero in a time when the ponies of Canterlot are in desperate need of one.”
“A true hero,” I growled out as I pointedly pulled back from her, “does not need lies to bolster their reputation.”
“Oh is that so?” Sunbeam challenged, a confident smirk that I recognized all too well playing across her lips. “By all means, name such a hero.”
I answered after only a moment’s hesitation. “Unerring Striker, Commander Luna’s second during the reclamation of Manehatten from the gryphons.”
“A popular figure ‘mongst the pegasi, I am sure,” Sunbeam murmured. “Tell me, what wouldst thou say if I told thee that some of Unerring’s famous victories were the result of the bravery and initiative of the soldiers beneath him rather than any action he took?
“I would not believe it,” I answered instantly.
“Of course not,” she murmured. “Because heroes do not do such things. But how dost thou know Unerring Striker? By the songs and tales sung of his deeds, neigh? When bards sing of thy deeds a century hence, ‘twill be my songs they sing, and my truths that all believe. Who is to say that Unerring did not have his account similarly adjusted?” (5)
5: Historiography on this point is still quite divided, primarily because Equestrian and Gryphonian records tell two very different (and equally biased) stories. We will probably never know for sure if Unerring was a hero, a glory-stealing rapist, or something in between.
Of course, that topic just reminds me that most of the information we have on Shadow comes from her own memoirs or accounts written by ponies close to her. However, given the almost complete lack of inconsistencies between these, it seems likely that Shadow’s memoirs are indeed historically factual. Though it would have been interesting to see what sort of post-war memoirs most of her opponents would have written...
The dance separated us for a time, Sunbeam and I standing apart while her eyes remained locked ‘pon mine. “Ponies need to believe that there is a hero who can defeat the enemies that lay siege to our gates. What would ponies think if they heard their paragon was nearly slain due to treachery, or the tale of how Lance really died? Which version of the story dost thou think would help our ponies stand firm in the face of the enemy?”
‘Twould seem that against my better judgement I had been drawn into a debate with Sunbeam Sparkle. As often happened with such debates, her arguments were frustrating. “The truth is always preferable to a lie, e’en if ‘tis less pleasant.”
“Is it?” she challenged. “E’en putting aside that truth can be subjective, what would you tell all that are gathered here? That we are outnumbered, being ground down? That the worst monster of our generation has assembled a great army to break down our gates and slaughter us all? What dost thou think is likely to happen if they are given no hope of victory?”
She pressed ‘gainst me once more as the dance brought us crashing together. “Surely thou knowest how often sieges end because someone within the city decides that all hope is lost and throws open the gates to the enemy merely to be done with it, or when foodstocks dwindle our citizens may turn upon one another, murdering o’er a single crust of bread. That is the fate awaiting a city that gives in to despair. Hope is a precious elixir during times such as these,“
“That it is,” I readily agreed, for once seeing the flaw in her reasoning. “And if thy lies are uncovered, hope will be lost far more swiftly. Better an imperfect truth than a perfect lie which will inevitably be uncovered.”
“If they discover the truth,” Sunbeam countered. “But who will tell them that? The enemy? None would trust their words, especially now that they revealed themselves as trucebreakers who consort with warlocks. E’en if we told the truth, the enemy would name us liars, for ‘twould better support their own lies. Surely thou dost not think the rebels admit ‘twas Bright who attacked ‘neath a flag of truce?”
“I do not doubt that they spread their lies, but that is no reason for us to sink to their level.” My hoof brushed along her back as the dance’s tempo increased. “The truth will always come out.”
“Then let it come out after we have won the war,” Sunbeam countered, whirling into my grasp. “By all means, salvage Lance Charger’s reputation. I will e’en help thee do so. (6) All I ask in return is that thou allow the war to be won ere thou dost concern thyself with such trivial matters as what bards sing.”
6: Sunbeam does deliver on this, in a manner of speaking. The highly entertaining work of fiction masquerading as her memoirs expands on Lance’s plans to end the war and claims that she was actually killed by Swift Blade and Hidden Facts in order to prevent her from ending the war and reunifying Equestria.
Though I did not care for the arrangement she offered, I saw little choice but to accept it. I could hardly afford to fight a clandestine propaganda war against one of my closest allies, and without Gale’s services I was unlikely to accomplish anything of note in such a conflict. “So be it then.”
Sunbeam grinned, revelling in her triumph. “I am pleased that thou hast seen the wisdom in doing as I say. Would that others were so open-minded.”
“I do not agree with thy methods, nor do I think I e’er shall,” I countered. “But unlike the Commander, I cannot order thee to desist. Whate’er my personal objections to thine actions, ‘tis plain that fighting thee would do more harm to our cause than good.”
“Thou needst not like it—merely accept it.” She smirked. “Besides, thou canst rightly claim to have played no hoof in this. ‘Tis not thy fault if the people spread false rumors about thee. Thou canst e’en deny them whene’er directly asked, so long as thou dost not make a concerted effort to undermine them or speak too vehemently. Most ponies will take such behavior for modesty, and ‘twill merely enhance thy reputation all the more.”
“Though I will move in concert with thee, I am not thy chess piece.” My grip on her tightened and I firmly reclaimed the lead as the music began to slow. “In the future, thou wilt consult with me before taking such actions. Elsewise, I shall move against thee. Conflict ‘tween us may not be in our best interest, but neither is it in mine interest to allow thee free reign to do as thou wouldst when thine actions affect me.”
A faint grimace crossed her muzzle. “I can hardly seek thy permission for mine every act. The very air I breathe right now affects thee, does it not?”
“Thou art quite proud of thine intellect, neigh?” I countered. “Surely thou canst manage to find the distinction ‘tween those acts that are of significance and those that are not.”
She scowled down at the ground for several seconds, then heaved out a long-suffering sigh. “I shall have no peace from thee unless I accept thy demands, shall I? So be it then. In the future, when acting upon matters that will impact thy clan, family, or thee personally, I shall seek thy prior consent if ‘tis at all practical.”
I frowned suspiciously at her choice of words. “Practical?”
She shrugged. “There may be times when events move swiftly and thou art unavailable. I trust thou wouldst not object to me saving thy life simply because thou wert too busy dying to grant thy permission.”
As before, I was certain she was quibbling o’er a situation she knew full well had not been a part of mine objections. “Thou knowest me well enough to gauge my desires, Sunbeam. Do not take acts that thou knowest I would object to or find questionable without first consulting me. ‘Tis not so complex a concept, is it?”
“Oh very well,” she conceded with poor grace, as if my demands were most unreasonable.
“Well and good.” I relaxed my hold on her, and we resumed the dance properly. “Now then, I take it thou art responsible for the poorly made pamphlets extolling my virtues as well?”
“Indirectly, aye.” She chuckled, allowing me to direct as I would for the final steps of the dance. “Though naturally I had to leave a less skilled hoof do the actual work. The crudity of the writing and production makes it seem all the more authentic.”
“A question for you, then.” I held her close against my chest, for it seemed the proper way to end this particular dance. “Why me, and not another? Thou wouldst surely enjoy public adulation more than I, and the Commander is a more natural figurehead.”
Sunbeam stared at me incredulously, then chuckled and shook her head. “Ah, Shadow, surely thou knowest that I am little loved in Canterlot. Respected and feared, aye, but ne’er loved. ‘Tis not the role I play in this farce. As for Her Majesty ... the common pony needs a warrior fighting upon the front lines, shedding blood and sharing in their privations. Not a distant queen whose royal arse rarely leaves her royal throne.”
Ere I could take issue with her barb, she suddenly and unexpectedly shifted topics. “Enough of politics. This is a celebration, and such talk bores me. Now, I have done thee a boon in the matter of the songs and tales, and would ask a boon in return.” She lightly brushed my chest. “Nothing too terribly pressing. I merely ask that thou watch o’er Midnight whilst I attend to a few matters. Certain dignitaries must be granted the honor of a dance with me, and after recent events it seems prudent to have somepony present to guard my daughter’s tongue.” She paused a moment, then chuckled. “Besides—if I leave her unsupervised, she will eat too much cake and then complain for half the night of a sore stomach.”
I chuckled as well, trying to imagine the dark and somber young child gorging ‘pon sweets much like any other young filly her age would. “Aye, I would be glad to watch o’er her.”
I found the child at the high table, in the midst of conversation with Commander Celestia. I was momentarily curious what the two could possibly be discussing, until I drew near enough to o’erhear them and learned that ‘twas the quality of the wedding cake. Midnight had already secured a rather large slice for herself in her mother’s absence.
I seated myself on Midnight’s opposite side, keeping the child ‘tween myself and the Commander. I pointedly glanced down at her plate. “I trust that will suffice. ‘Twould not do to o’erindulge and sour thy stomach.”
Midnight frowned skeptically down at the cake, seeming unconvinced that ‘twould sate her hunger. “I have been working very hard of late. Mother insists that I carry water to soldiers on the frontlines to show that I am doing my part to help with the war effort.” She crossed her forelegs o’er her chest, pouting. “I ne’er knew that water was so heavy ere I was assigned to carry it back and forth for hours at a time.” Her eyes fell upon the glass of water next to her plate, and she fixed it with baleful glare as if ‘twere to blame for all the ills she had suffered. Ultimately, she consoled herself by taking a large bite out of her cake. ‘Twas done in a most unsettling manner though, given she stretched her jaws wide to the point of strain and chomped down ‘pon the dessert with an audible clack.
The Commander favored the young filly with an indulgent smile. “I am sure the soldiers appreciate the water, Midnight. We are all playing our part in this.”
“Aye,” I was quick to add in hopes of further bolstering her spirits. “E'en the mightiest warriors cannot carry on without fresh water to sustain them.”
“I suppose,” Midnight allowed with a grimace, returning her attention to her dessert. “Though I prefer to sustain myself on cake.”
I chuckled at the child’s priorities. “One cannot fight a war on cake alone.”
“There has been no cake for a month now,” the filly grumbled between bites. “Not until today.”
“The war will come to an end soon enough,” I assured her, giving her a quick pat on the back to fortify her.
“But today is the last day there will be cake,” she countered. “Unless the war ends tomorrow, it is not soon enough.” She took several more bites, leaving little behind. She glowered down at the cake, as it were somehow betraying her by being consumed so quickly. She turned to me. “May I have another slice?”
“Neigh,” I answered at once. “Thy mother said thou couldst only have the one.”
She frowned at mine answer, then quickly scanned the area. “And where is my mother? Can you point her out for me? If she is not here, then do her edicts still have force? Mother has said in the past that what Her Majesty does not know cannot hurt her. I would think the same principle applies to her as well on the matter of cake.”
Though ‘twas amusing to see Sunbeam’s flexible sense of morality turned against her by her own child, I would not let the girl spoil her supper just for that. “She asked me to watch o'er thee, and specified that I was not to allow thee too many sweets. I would be a poor caretaker if I failed to do as she asked.”
“But I may not have another chance to eat cake for months and months!” she objected, pouting as any child denied their sweets will inevitably do.
For a moment I was tempted to allow it. Howe’er, I knew all too well that she would simply devour the second slice, then attempt to gain a third. “Neigh. One is enough.”
“Alas...” Her ears wilted, and she stared down at what remained of her cake, attempting to make herself seem as pitiful and ill-treated as possible. “Goodbye, sweet cake, I knew thee well as I sliced thee into pieces to sate my hunger. That which we call a cake by any other name wouldst taste as sweet! 'Tis better to have eaten and lost into the chamberpot than to have ne'er eaten at all...”
I was not fooled by her dramatics. They did amuse me, but I took appropriate care not to reveal that. “Thou wilt not starve, Midnight.”
“Not for another six months, at least.” She heaved out a put-upon sigh.
The Commander cleared her throat, drawing mine attention. “Shadow, have you seen Grandmaster Noble Quest? I wished to speak with him regarding the Order’s deployment—and of course, congratulate him on his son’s wedding.”
“Neigh, I have not.” I scanned the courtyard for the newly named Grandmaster. Though I quickly found him sitting next to the bride and groom, when I turned back to tell Celestia as much I discovered that in the few seconds I had taken mine eyes off of her Midnight had somehow obtained a fresh slice of cake, which she was endeavouring to consume as quickly as possible. “How didst thou—I only looked away for a moment!”
Celestia offered me a beatific smile. “How indeed?”
I glowered at the both of them. “I sense a conspiracy.”
“Why, Shadow!” Commander Celestia was the very image of wounded innocence. “What ever dost thou mean?”
My rejoinder vanished unspoken as Midnight’s fork clattered down onto her plate, her freshly purloined cake forgotten. The young filly gasped, and for a moment I feared that she was choking upon her food. Then she spoke, her voice thick with dread. “She is coming.”
Ere I could ask what she meant, there was a tremendous peal of thunder and a dazzling flash of light. When the light faded, Bright Charger stood in the middle of the dance floor. Only ... not her. Not anymore. Bright Charger had ne’er been an alicorn, nor did her mane have an aspect of the night sky.
The Avatar of Nightmare Moon had come to Canterlot.
One particularly bold guard bellowed out a challenge and charged her, attempting to drive his spear through her back. Howe’er, when the blow ought to have struck her his weapon and then the guard himself simply passed through her as if she were naught but mist. An illusion, then.
The Avatar gazed about the courtyard imperiously, chuckling as everypony who met her eyes quailed back. “Well well, I must say I am disappointed I did not receive an invitation. Thou didst not e’en set aside a slice of cake for me.” Her attention briefly fell upon the newlyweds. “I suppose I should offer my congratulations upon thy nuptials. Alas, I have no gift to offer thee. I am sure my sister provided something suitable; she always was better at selecting wedding gifts.” She paused in thought, then a malicious light entered her eyes. “Ah! I have it! For the duration of thy honeymoon, I shall not slay thee.”
The new husband and wife glared defiantly at the false goddess threatening them. Celestia rose from her throne, moving with surprising swiftness to place herself ‘tween the Avatar and the newly married couple. The Commander spoke, her voice ringing with a power and authority I had rarely heard from her. “Begone from this place, foul creature! Thou hast no power here! Thou art naught but lies and illusions!”
The abomination chuckled, smiling in a manner that revealed far too many teeth. “Oh is that so? Tell me then, dear sister, why is it that thy subjects are so fearful?” She pointed to a group of ponies, seemingly chosen at random. All of them flinched back, many hastily shifting position so that they would no longer be the focus of the Avatar’s attention. “Thou dost claim thou canst protect them, yet I do not think there is a one of them who feels safe right now.” The Avatar deliberately strode closer to Celestia, a cruel grin stretching her lips. “And this time, thou canst not banish me for a millennia.”
The Commander flinched at the mention of her sister’s exile. ‘Twas barely noticeable, but the Avatar did not miss it. Like a shark sensing blood in the water, she struck once more. “Ah, yes, mine exile. Didst thou know the moon is a terribly lonely place? So barren and cold. For the first few years I planned escape, thinking ‘twould only be a matter of patience and diligence ere I found a way to free myself. But as mine imprisonment dragged on the isolation wore at me, until soon whole months would pass where I could not cease sobbing from the sheer pain of it. Canst thou imagine such suffering? Pain so terrible that it cannot be borne for weeks on end? That is the existence thou hast condemned me to, dear sister.” The last words were spat out with the utmost contempt.
The Commander faltered, uncertainty entering her eyes as the Avatar spoke of her suffering. “N-neigh, foul creature. Thou art an abomination, not the sister I once knew and loved ere madness claimed her.”
“Madness?” The Avatar repeated incredulously. “Is that what thou wouldst call it? Aye, I suppose thou wouldst say ‘tis madness to not bend to thine every whim. For that is the truth of it, is it not? That I was punished so harshly because I, thine own sister, dared to question thee. Neigh, I think the true madness was thine. We were meant to rule together, but always thou didst believe that because thou wert the elder ‘twas thy right to place thyself above me. Thou didst claim the most beloved and acclaimed duties for thyself, whilst I ruled in the dark of the night, unappreciated.”
The abomination let out a cold, cruel laugh. “And for a pony who preaches the value of harmony, unity, and friendship, thou wert quick to ignore thine own flesh and blood when she was in distress, and punish her most harshly once she dared defy thee. Tell me, dear sister, why is it that I was trapped within the moon in utter isolation? Far fouler beasts than I remain within Tartarus, where they might at least speak to another living being. I think ‘twas that thou didst enjoy seeing me trapped upon the moon, the symbol of thy victory o’er me placed where all the world could see it every night. A constant reminder of thy supposed superiority.”
“N-no!” The Commander gasped out, recoiling from the beast that had once been Bright Charger. To my horror, I could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “Luna, please...”
I could remain still no longer. If the Avatar reduced Celestia to tears, ‘twould devastate the morale of the citizens of Canterlot. Indeed, that was likely the beast’s purpose here: to lay bare the Commander’s sorrow and pain, make her seem weak and incapable. I could not allow it.
I stepped ‘tween the two of them, my wings flaring both in challenge and to block all sight of the Commander’s face until she could compose herself. “Art thou naught but a yapping dog now, Bright Charger?” I challenged. “Reduced to impotent words where once you fought with valor and honor on the field of battle?”
Bright’s full attention shifted to me, her eyes narrowing in utter hatred as her teeth clenched in an almost feral snarl. “Shadow. So thou dost live indeed. Pity, I had thought that a lance through the chest would be enough to kill thee. But I suppose ‘tis a small price to pay for having the pleasure of killing thee twice. My daughter is yet unavenged...” A cruel light entered her eyes as she concluded, “but thy daughter now rests within my hooves.”
I offered no response beyond glaring at her, for any words would be too easily twisted against me. Bright held my gaze for several seconds, then shrugged. “So be it. I am a merciful queen, e’en to those who murdered my daughter in cold blood. I will not slay Gale as thou didst slay my precious Lance. The sins of the mother do not pass down to the child.”
She paused, but once more I did not dignify her remarks with any response. I could guess all too easily that her supposed kindness existed only to conceal the hidden barb she would soon unveil. She quickly proved me right. “Howe’er, Gale has committed crimes against the rightful ruler of Equestria, and has been a less than cooperative prisoner. She must face an appropriate punishment and penance for her misdeeds. I think ... fifty lashes, to begin with. ‘Twill be done before the southern gate in three hours time, so that all who yet defy me may witness the price of that defiance.” She smirked, revealing that a few of her teeth had elongated into fangs. “I will be there to personally o’ersee her chastisement. Shouldst thou care to meet me and settle our unfinished business, I would welcome it.”
Having said all that she cared to, the Avatar vanished as the mist binding her image together dispersed into nothingness. A deathly pall of silence hung o’er the wedding reception, the festive mood now entirely shattered.
Mine eyes sought out the nearest of my clanmates. “Muster all our warriors. If our full strength is not at the Southern Gate in two hours’ time, those who are absent would be wise to ne’er cross my sight again.”
Sunbeam forced her way through the crowd and to my side. “Think, Shadow!” She hissed beneath her breath. “‘Tis an obvious trap intended to draw thee out into an ambush!”
I met the Archmagus’ gaze levelly. “I am quite aware of that, Sunbeam. I must simply find a way to beat it. I will not stand back and watch helplessly as that creature tortures my daughter.”
Sunbeam grasped my collarbone, pulling my head nearer to hers. “Throwing thy life away will not make her any safer!”
“I am hardly offering myself up for sacrifice,” I growled back. “But I will be on the field to meet her ere a whip touches Gale’s back. Wouldst thou do any less if ‘twere thy child in her hooves?”
For once, Sunbeam could not argue against me.