“Glory be to the Goddess! Hwale bidae dla Bogine!”
“Hwale bidae dla Bogine!”
Blessed Fang’s call caused the entire temple to reply in unison, which made Twilight cringe at the volume. And cringe at her thoughts.
She felt shocked by what she heard during this “lesson” she had just received. And not only by that, for she believed that she was able to deal with a couple of religious parallels, more or less true to reality.
Lord Midnight Eye, whilst paying due attention to what was being preached, did grace her with a taunting look of dignity mixed with hubris at one point. Lord Crimson Fang, sitting on her right, did not even have to stare, she could feel the pride emanating from him all through the sermon.
And Midnight... She heard well that Midnight’s pious shout was not void of this zealous fervor that accompanied everypony gathered.
Everypony but Twilight, that is.
She heard rustling and murmurs when batponies began lifting themselves from their places, which must have marked the end of the ceremony. She stood up, folding her wings and checking how much did her gown wrinkle, trying to avoid staring at anypony from the Covenant. She knew exactly what she could spot hidden in their eyes.
Sure enough Azure Mist spoke to her, approaching. “Such a pleasure, having a soleerane with us during a homiliye. I am glad she could listen to the tales of our nation.”
“Yes, indeed, superb,” Bright Crescent answered her, giving the nearing Blessed Fang a glare. “You sure know which fragments to pick, friend.”
The antas did not even respond at first, his citrine eyes fixated on Twilight. “I meditated a long time on what I should read out. It was the Goddess’ Will that I have encountered this excerpt. I hope I have managed to translate it properly, Knaze.”
Twilight could no longer pretend that she did not acknowledge the Lords around her. She stared up, trying to keep her gaze firm and hide her discouragement.
“You have done a remarkable job, Lord Blessed Fang, I understood the entirety of the lesson. And took every word to heart.” She did not know whether they would spot her lie, but at this point she simply couldn’t care. “I feel like I need to contemplate on this fragment some more, however.”
Blessed Fang’s calm expression did not shift. “If that is the case, we could grant you an official copy of the scripture.”
“Blessed Fang!” Crimson Shade turned to the priest with astonishment in his eyes. He glanced at Twilight, trying to compose himself a bit. “The Goddess wishes all to know Her teachings, of course, but granting a-a blessed manuscript just like that—”
“Shall be a sign of our good will towards the Princess,” the antas replied with his usual, ethereal conviction. “How can we hope to spread the Goddess’ message without creating ‘letters’ containing it and granting them to those who wish to be non-believers no more?”
Twilight did not know whether to be thankful, surprised or confused by what she had heard. She ended up experiencing a bit of everything.
“I... am grateful, Lord Blessed Fang. I feel that I need a lot more insight to appreciate the Goddess’ guidance...”
Her words caused the priest’s lips to smirk for a split second, which seemed like an impossible occurrence. “Good. Very, very good. Piastan Porost!”
Lichen, who was standing nearby and conversing with one of the local antasi, rushed to the Lord.
“Tac, hwalbu haspadr?” he asked after letting out a short cough.
“I would wish for the Princess to receive tonight’s lesson in a manuscript. You shall see to it personally, I imagine.”
“Oh, at once!”
Perhaps it was but Twilight being unreasonable, but she could swear she felt a hint of sarcasm from the old stallion.
Midnight Eye stepped into the conversation. “I believe this to be the formal conclusion of tonight’s festivities.” The rest of the Lords agreed silently and lined themselves behind him. “We, the Covenant, would like to invite you to a feast tomorrow evening. Then, we shall commence the proper negotiations.”
There was magnanimity to Midnight Eye’s words, but Twilight felt pride seeping from him more than anything.
“I graciously accept and I am honored to be welcomed so cordially,” she replied, trying to sound grateful and enthusiastic.
“For now, we bid you farewell. Custodian Lichen shall lead you to your quarters. And I hope Nightguardian Midnight Wind shall continue in his stellar service as your guide and protector.”
Midnight, who was keeping slightly away from the mare to give the Covenant proper room, stepped forward with a grand salute.
The Lords then departed, leaving Twilight behind with glances ranging from self-righteousness to distrust... and even some guilt, like in Dusk Harvest’s case. The Great Shrine had almost emptied by this point, with only the mare, Midnight and Lichen standing nearer to the altar.
Twilight let go of her trained, royal stance for a moment, sighing and shaking her head. Then she realized that the custodian was right next to her and looked at him with concern, hoping he did not misinterpret her relief.
“No worries, Princess,” he replied, chuckling to himself, “I think that after receiving such a welcoming, one is bound to feel glad that it is over.” His gaze escaped towards the exit of the temple and his smile became distant.
Twilight felt her cheeks flaring from embarrassment nonetheless. “I-I think I am just tired.”
“Oh, yes, they are tiresome, indeed,” Lichen retorted with a grimace.
Midnight stepped forth, his gaze a mixture of shame and concern. “Piastan, we should not talk like this and here...”
The custodian huffed, annoyed. “Bah, are you expecting an Occultan to pop out of nowhere, child, and let them know what I think? Fine, may they hear what I have to say about diplomacy done like this!”
The echo of Lichen’s voice was dangerously spreading, causing Twilight to glance around for anypony to overhear this conversation and making Midnight turn to him again, pleading.
“Please, custodian, this is not the time, nor the place. Perhaps we could talk more freely in the Princess’ quarters?” he proposed, then looked at Twilight, seeking her approval. His gaze was saddened.
“I... think that would be the best, yes. I have some... inquiries,” she admitted, having trouble withstanding his look.
Lichen glanced at the two before shaking his head. “Yes... it might be better. Forgive my temper, Princess.”
“There's nothing to forgive for. You’re sincere, custodian, I like that in a pony.”
The priest grinned at her paraphrase of his own words. “And witty, don’t forget I’m witty...”
He beckoned them to follow and they complied without a word. After exiting the temple, the group ventured into a tunnel that opened to the side, leading into a sprawling net of passages. The custodian explained that it constituted the complex serving the clergy of the Sanctuary, full of libraries, discussion halls and private quarters of the various priests.
Twilight was giving Midnight glances from time to time during their walk, seeing that he was fighting some intense, inner battle. She wished to turn to him but Lichen’s presence was making it impossible for them to talk absolutely sincerely.
They finally reached an ornate door and the custodian opened them without delay, revealing an elegant chamber prepared to become Twilight’s housing for the duration of the summit.
“We hope that this is enough. This place typically serves as guest quarters for the heads of priesthood from our other Mountains, but we have made sure to outfit it to match your stature to the best of our abilities.”
The furniture was of comparable standard to what the mare experienced at the Border, with a couple of pieces visibly added to the room just for the occasion. Her luggage was already placed by the comfortable, immensely alluring for her right now, bed.
Lichen frowned, himself judging the room. “Unfortunately, we’ve never had diplomats in the Sanctuary. The Covenant’s segment of our peak has proper apartments, but those are, of course, taken by the Lords and their retinues right now... So we’ve had to improvise a little, I hope you can understand that, Princess.”
Twilight gave him a smile. “No, no, don’t worry, custodian, this is more than adequate, thank you. Besides, I never craved luxuries and would feel out of place if this chamber would be any more ornate.”
“Ha, you might have ‘twilight’ in your name, Princess, but you sound like a Sunfall,” Lichen assessed and chuckled. “Oh, I should probably add that Lord Dusk Harvest did come up with the idea of you taking his quarters for the time of your stay.”
Both the mare and Midnight raised their eyebrows.
“Haspadr wished to lend his own rooms to the Princess?” Midnight asked with utter disbelief.
“Indeed. But I have told him in confidence that the priesthood shall not only be honored, but grateful to be allowed to grant aid to our esteemed guest. And that, well,” Lichen looked around with a glint to his straw eyes, “the walls of this place are much... thicker.”
Twilight felt her eyes widening at the implication. “Custodian, I swear I would never suspect the Covenant—”
“Princess, the fact that the Lords are spying even on each other is more than common knowledge,” the custodian interrupted her, trying to hide his desire to laugh. “Remember, our Families do contest with one another, despite us all being ‘the ponies of caves’. And certainly you would have more ears listening to you there than an antas has during a homiliye—” Lichen declared with just enough conviction to give himself a coughing fit.
Midnight lead him to the solid, pine table and helped him sit down at it. Twilight looked around, spotting a bath pocket to the side. Oh, she could use a bath right now.
She shook her head and focused. Soon.
She sat opposite of Lichen, who had just wiped tears from his eyes.
“Bogine, I am getting old and decrepit,” he jested, causing Twilight to smirk. Then he addressed Midnight out of nowhere. “The Princess is much more beautiful when she is smiling, no?”
Twilight would feel flattered at the compliment if not for the fact that she was more worried about her secret coltfriend’s reaction. Midnight was doing his absolute best to respond with professionalism rather than sincerity, so a nod of his head was all the response Lichen got.
He took advantage of that right away. “What a good colt, not wishing to embarrass the mare. You got yourself a stoic defender!” The priest chuckled, then his muzzle fell when he gazed at Twilight. “I... do imagine your mind is buzzing with questions and inquiries.”
Twilight joined her hooves on the table. “First of all... I want to thank you for all the gestures of good will, custodian,” she began, earning a warm grin from the elder pony. “And, yes, I have some matters I would wish to discuss... if I am not keeping you away from your duties, that is.”
“Don’t you worry, Princess, my duties can wait for a moment longer. Also, I feel obliged to make sure that you are cared for and supplied. And right now, you lack knowledge. I can provide it to the best of my abilities. And,” Lichen glanced to the side, “I have a feeling nocferratan Maednoc Wentr wishes to help you out too.”
Midnight, who had taken his place at the table keeping reasonably away from Twilight, nodded. “I have talked about our nation and race with the Princess many times, with the Honored Lords’ blessing, yet I wish to be of further use.”
“Oh, I’m not usurping your place,” Lichen remarked in an impish way, before scolding himself silently. “Is... is your mind still occupied with the Test, Princess?”
Twilight frowned. There were reasons she wanted to ask about both the homiliye she received and her encounter with the “tuariani”... but the gaping hole in her memory was far, far more important than the biased contents of batponies’ holy scriptures.
“I already asked about what happened, but I think I can have a question phrased better... Why cannot I remember a thing from this Test of Faith?” she inquired, her gaze switching from Midnight to Lichen.
The priest frowned. “That I am unable to tell you, Princess. Unless being found undesirable by the Tuariani, nopony ever remembers their Test.”
“How is that even possible? Are they using some type of...?” Twilight avoided using the term “magic”, not to cause a negative reaction.
Lichen did not seem to care at all. “What, magic? No. Definitely not one in your understanding of it, Princess.”
Twilight felt relieved. It seemed that the custodian was far more at ease with the idea of unicorn art. Despite what she learned about the implied nature of its origins from the sermon.
“If it is not ‘my’ magic, so to speak, how is this possible? I haven’t read about ponies possessing abilities that could suppress memories other than those of the arcane nature.”
“I do not think even Tuariani know the answer to this mystery,” Midnight interjected. “It is simply something that is. Many claim that it is the Goddess’ Herself acting through their hooves and making sure that the Test does not harm your mind.”
Twilight leaned back in her chair, crossing her forelegs. “Who are those... Tu-ariani, even? Priests? Warriors?”
“Both and more. They are the Guardians of the Sanctuary,” Lichen answered, closing his eyes in reverence. “They protect this peak, the temple, all who live here and all who venerate the Moon...”
“Protectors of the temple... Uhm... ‘Templars’?” Twilight tried to forge a word, but Midnight only shrugged in response.
“I have never found a translation. ‘Sanctuarians’, maybe, that would be closer.”
“And they are a military order, right?”
“Well, yes, but not quite. As in, we would never wish to see them fight,” Midnight replied in a grim tone.
Lichen continued, seeing Twilight’s curiosity mixed with confusion. “Let us be a bit more general. Tuariani are a group of forty-nine ponies, stallions and mares, who, whilst performing tasks of their caste, suddenly felt that their real mission is to protect the Great Shrine and the Sanctuary...”
“Ah... alright, that’s peculiar,” Twilight tried to grasp the idea. “Exactly forty-nine? There is never more?”
“No,” Midnight responded, putting his front hooves on the table. “Seven ponies from each of the Seven Families. Never more and never less...”
“Indeed. And only when one of them dies does another pony answer their call...” Lichen elaborated. “So their number never dwindles.”
“Extraordinary. And their sole purpose is to protect this place?” Twilight looked around, realizing further what great significance the Sanctuary must have had for the batponies if such a... strange and mysterious force was serving as its wardens.
“Yes,” Lichen confirmed. “They are the sentinels, the knights of our Goddess, prepared to fend off all of the intruders and encroachers. But if you were ever to meet a Tuarian preparing for a fight...” he stopped himself, swallowing in genuine fear. “Edn bid dla sacun, dwo bid dla admnitr, tri bid dla wizwan. Tu nye auda kwitr.”
Twilight could tell that he had just counted something, but she had to turn to Midnight for a translation.
“An old rhyme. Can you recall the moment when one of the Tuariani slammed his hooves in front of the custodian?”
“That I do remember, yes.”
Lichen pursed his lips. “It was the second time he did so as well, so he was chastising me for obstructing his tasks... Tuariani take an oath of silence and do not speak while wearing their blessed armors. Their stomps is how they communicate when performing their sacred duties.”
“I see. So... what does the rhyme state?” Twilight pressed the topic.
Midnight pondered for a while before translating. “One’s for respect, two scour is for, three’s for a challenge... You won’t hear a ‘four’.” He looked deep into her eyes, his stare letting her know that this was by no means a simple nursery rhyme.
Twilight felt a shudder travelling down her spine. “What happens after ‘three’ then?”
Lichen sighed. “If a Tuarian let you know three times that you are in his way and you did not back away, then you have stood against the Will of the Goddess Herself. And that means he not only can, but is obliged to strike at you and—”
“And kill you?”
Lichen and Midnight glanced at one another, neither of them really wishing to answer. Twilight felt a trickle of sweat travelling down her neck.
“And the Test is something they just subject others to?” she asked further.
“It is to their discretion. A lowborn or a Lord, all must stand the Probe a Fide,” Lichen answered. “If they pass, they do not remember it. If they fail, they are grabbed by fear and dread, shaking, shivering, trembling before the Goddess. Tuariani detain these ponies. Failing the Test means possessing a tainted will, one prone to contesting the Goddess’ teachings. Priests are dispatched immediately to aid these poor souls and help them find inner peace...”
Twilight locked herself in thoughts for a moment. Sanctuarians had the right to judge others to a great extent, incarcerate them. No wonder there was such a commotion when they appeared.
Who knew if their judgment was of divine bestowal?
“Who gave them the right to conduct such a trial upon others?” the mare mused to herself.
Out loud, as it appeared, for the priest answered her. “It is a long and complicated story, Princess. One not for tonight, I’m afraid,” he admitted with reluctance. “As much as I would love to tell it, I need to leave you for now. If Lord Blessed Fang wishes you to have a manuscript of tonight’s homiliye—”
“There’s no need to rush, custodian,” Twilight replied, allowing herself to grant him an intense gaze. “I think I understood the lesson all too well.”
Lichen froze for a second, then glanced at Midnight, who lowered his eyes. The silence rang all around until the priest finally nodded and inhaled. “I... would expect you to, Princess, yes. I am a priest and an unworthy servant of the Goddess, I would never dare to contest the scriptures... but, for all it’s worth,” he stared at the mare with understanding, “I want to think that, in the end, all ponies are Her children, for She wants to be the Mother of us all. Her Heart is open for all those that would wish to come and rest in Her embrace...”
Twilight stood up when the priest did so and approached him. “Might I ask just one more question of you tonight, custodian?”
“Please.”
“Why exactly are you helping me?”
Lichen raised his eyebrows, momentarily stunned by her directness.
Twilight berated herself. She allowed her royal demeanor to disperse, instead asking something out of pure, unabated curiosity. There was no going back, however, so she decided to keep on with this sincere approach.
“You seem keen on granting me aid, you allow me to stay in this part of the Sanctuary, away from prying eyes and ears, and I have a feeling that you genuinely wish me to negotiate successfully with the Covenant. So I have to ask... Why?”
Even Midnight had a look on his muzzle that told Twilight she was too straightforward. It did not matter now, unfortunately.
Lichen bit his lower lip, his elderly eyes glinting. “You have a term in Equestria... ‘Bad blood’. Well, there is a lot of it here, Princess,” he admitted, giving her a long, sad look. “For us, ver is a soul’s vessel. And there are souls around that are grasped by fear, mistrust and anger. I like to believe,” his voice grew calmer but stronger at the same time, “that your visit is a part of the Goddess’ plan to purge these faults from us and grant us new strength. New wisdom. You are exactly the pony to present us with an opportunity to become something more. To be found truly worthy of being Her children...”
Twilight felt honored. The sheer sincerity of his words was overwhelming and she had no trouble telling he was conveying to her his deepest, most hidden hopes.
“Then I promise you this, custodian Lichen – I will not fail your expectations,” she said with utmost conviction.
He just smiled at first, his expression thoughtful and distant. “You do not have to promise an old priest anything, child. I know that no matter what happens, you shall do your best, I can see it in your eyes,” he revealed, then glanced at Midnight. “And I know that you, warrior, shall do what is your duty as well.”
Midnight nodded, but he looked far less optimistic than Twilight allowed herself to be.
Lichen bowed his head before her. “It is my pleasure to help you, Princess. If I could be of any further assistance, do not hesitate to let me know of your needs.” Then he addressed Midnight. “Let us allow the Princess to rest for now. I will show you to your quarters, warrior, they are neighboring.”
Twilight knew that Midnight wished to remain with her, she could tell that from his gaze, but he complied, not willing to raise unnecessary suspicions even in their new ally.
“Lead the way, custodian. Princess.” He saluted her as it was proper. “I shall await your summon tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Midnight Wind. Go and have a good day,” she replied against herself.
Once the doors to her room closed, Twilight sighed and gave the present bed a warm, friendly stare. She was tired, even more tired than she thought. The night had been full of surprises, shocks, diplomatic traps and tricks, which were all exhausting in their own right. Then came the stress and concern about not only her, but Midnight as well. She could tell he was on edge the entire time. She was even prepared for him not coming over today, she was convinced that he was as worn out as her.
She approached her luggage, looking at it curiously before focusing her senses. The little Closure Seal spell she had placed on the lock was intact. And after opening the lid, Twilight found everything inside in the peculiar order she had put it in, which further let her rest assured that nopony had rummaged through her belongings.
She took off her dress with great relief, putting it in a massive, ornate closet. Then she eyed both the bed and the bath pocket behind an elegant, wooden screen. She could have used a long, relaxing bath... Really long...
There was a quiet, shy knock on the door.
A really long bath in good company?
Twilight felt the tips of her ears burning as her mind suddenly surprised her with such a forward thought. It was not... entirely... unthinkable, however...
She shook her head, pushing back those thoughts. She approached the door and opened them carefully. The armor-lacking Midnight was standing outside, looking down on the ground and biting his lip.
His expression startled her. “Midnight?”
“May I come in...?” His voice was disturbed at best.
She stepped to the side and closed the doors behind him. He did not stop until he stood in the middle of the chamber, still not keen on looking at her.
“Midnight, what is wrong?”
She gently closed in on the stallion, feeling a tide of emotions emanating from him. She stood before him, but he did not even twitch. She bit her lip then decided to lift up his muzzle with her hoof. When they finally crossed gazes, she spotted that his eyes were teary.
She knew that he was, once again, ashamed. Ashamed by what had happened tonight and what Twilight had been subjected to by the Covenant, the Sanctuarians and even the crowd.
His jaw trembled. “Twilight... I... I need to tell you—“
She stopped him by placing her hoof on his lips. His eyes widened, but he did not try to object to her gesture.
She felt affection filling her to the brim. He cared for her so much that he took as his own responsibility the actions of everypony around her. He wanted her mission to succeed and he wished for every single one of his brethren to treat her with respect he had for her.
She loved him for this concern of his. For this nurturing care he was showing her. For his heartfelt sincerity. She loved him, oh so much.
“Midnight,” she whispered, removing her hoof.
“... yes?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Midnight did not need any encouragement, lunging at her lips with hunger, thirst and desire. It took them a full minute to finally step away from one another, still not fully satisfied, but temporarily sated.
“I... I needed that,” Twilight admitted, trying to catch her breath, feeling her face burning. She stopped minding it though when she was alone with him.
“You and me both, my light...” Midnight agreed with her, exhaling and smirking.
However, there were still signs about him which told Twilight that he was willing to try and apologize. She was having none of that. She embraced him and remained close until she could tell that she banished this doubt he had inside him. At least for now.
“I have told you already,” she whispered, “that I care about you and you alone, not others around us. Not the crowd, not your warrior-priests, and especially not the Lords...”
He did not respond at first, only hugged her tighter and held her close, his heavy breathing overtaking the silence. “I really do not deserve you, Twilight...”
She felt her lips widening in a smile as she pressed herself to him. “Tough luck, because it’s exactly me you’re getting.”
“Bogine... What have I gotten myself into?” he asked in a deep, rhetorical tone, causing her to giggle. “This was a long night... You must be exhausted.”
“You have no idea,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “If this is what princess-level diplomacy looks like, then I’m abdicating.”
“You can’t do that,” he objected without delay.
“Why?” she asked, leaning onto him further, burrowing her muzzle in his coat. He was warm and soft to rest against.
“Because if you do, I will not be able to one night tell everypony that I have hunted myself down a princess,” he replied with fake, but merciless honesty.
“Hunted down? What am I, game?” she inquired before feeling his head jerking.
The sudden sensation of his fangs nibbling her ear affectionately caused a sigh to escape her mouth and a pleasurable tingle to traverse her body, making her melt against him almost instantly.
“M-Midnight...” she tried to speak up, but her voice trembled.
“Busy,” he replied with wonderful allure, not releasing her ear, instead nipping on it some more, sending sweet shivers through her.
She giggled and hummed, enjoying this strange and pleasurable sensation of his teeth scraping her skin. She felt vulnerable and safe alike, being bit by her fanged admirer in such a way.
“Mmm... Midnight... You can... mmm... do it to my neck later...” she managed to propose, her mind fogged with warm pleasure.
He carefully let go of her ear and she saw the big, broad smile on his muzzle. “I’ll hold you to it, Twilight...” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Are you hungry? Or do you want to take a bath?”
“Both, yes, indeed.”
“Alright, take your time and relax. I will see about getting you something you can nibble on, for a change,” he offered, granting her a salacious grin.
She blushed darkly, fighting the sudden urge to have him stay even while she was to take a bath.
“A-alright, I will not take long. Catch you soon.”
Her sensibility and decency won this time, but... Yes, “but”.
Having had been once bitten by the stinging cold water at the Border, the twice shy Twilight avoided a frigid surprise this time. The idea of taking freezing showers was something she could not wrap her head around. Was it not better to let oneself enjoy a calm, relaxing, warm time of leisure? With water having that soothing, wonderful temperature that made the mind unwind and the body lose tension?
Emerging from the water after a soothing and much-needed ablution, Twilight was both keen on and embarrassed by the persistent idea in her head.
Introducing Midnight to taking hot baths...
... with her.
Urgh, why did this thought have to be so appealing?
To Twilight’s surprise, she managed to find a rather intricate, woven bathrobe prepared for her, ocean blue and soft to the touch. She wore it eagerly, having it retain the warmth of the water she was still feeling, allowing her wet mane to flow down freely. She preferred it to dry on its own, she was worn out just enough not to bother using magic.
Not a few moments after she was done with bathing, Midnight knocked on the door, carrying a platter of finest fruit prepared just for her.
“Suppe—Bogine...” he uttered when he laid his eyes upon her.
She blinked. “What?”
“I-I-I have never before seen you like... this,” he mumbled, his eyes wandering over Twilight’s soaked mane.
“Do you... enjoy this look?” she inquired, abashed.
“Well, I saw you as a Princess, then wearing clothes of our nobility, then attempting to eat like us,” he said, finally making his way inside the chamber, albeit keeping his gaze on her constantly. “It’s like I am meeting a whole new you every time... And I love each and every one of you more and more...”
Twilight fought the overwhelming blush and the silly smile his words brought on her face. Then she giggled uncontrollably, for Midnight stumbled into a chair, being too preoccupied with staring at her. Only due to a miracle and a quick balancing act did he save their supper from landing on the floor.
“You might wish to cool down, Midnight, this is growing hazardous to your health...” she berated him, grinning.
He put the platter on the table and massaged his foreleg. “Getting into trouble because of you, why does this scenario seem so familiar?” he retorted with a determined expression.
Twilight shook her head, sitting at the table, fighting the overwhelming urge to rest her forehead on it. “I think I’m getting myself into enough trouble already...”
Midnight’s expression grew serious as he joined her and put his foreleg around her. “That’s why you need a true warrior at your side.” He smirked, his eyes glinting with melancholy.
They remained motionless for a moment, until Twilight’s hunger finally took the best of her.
“So... You’ve had a lot more opportunities to observe the situation. Have you spotted something... additionally extraordinary happening tonight?” she asked, grabbing some grapes.
“First of all, the fact that Dusk Harvest squeezed so many sentences out of himself does bide well, I think he tries to show that he means well,” Midnight began, helping himself to oranges in between the sentences, then abandoning their dried out husks without pity. “Sunfall Word and Bright Crescent are intrigued by you. Crimson Shade is playing the tough game...”
“Midnight, I was paying enough attention to spot all of that,” Twilight hurried him, as he was telling her nothing new so far.
“I know, I know. I’m just trying to organize it in my head as well, figure things out... Allow me not to comment on... on the Tuariani and the homiliye...” he asked, his voice filling with angst and sadness alike.
“Of course. But, do remember what I keep telling you, alright? You are not responsible for others,” she reminded him, seeing his reaction.
“Ha, I know... Just, I tend to do that. I think about many aspects, I interpret signs... I...” he paused. His face hardened and his lips formed into an absent-minded smile. “I’m like the wind, I’m all over the place...” he whispered, then let out a small, empty chortle.
Twilight saw his strange expression and decided to remedy it by a kiss to his cheek. It broke him out of the stupor and he glanced at her with affection.
“Thank the Goddess somepony is keeping me grounded.”
“Who knew I would ever shackle the wind like this,” Twilight responded playfully, nuzzling his neck.
He exhaled with happiness, returning the gesture for a moment. Then, he bit his lip and pondered for a while. “You know, there is one thing that intrigued me a great deal.”
“Do tell,” she encouraged him, reaching for more grapes.
“I am the only member of your retinue right now,” he stated, giving her an intense look. “And that was alright with everypony. None of the Lords asked about Deep Mist at all.”
Twilight pondered on it for a while, chewing on one of the fruit. “You’re right, yes. Not even Azure Mist when Midnight Eye was praising your performance. What could that mean?”
Midnight rubbed his chin. “Either that Azure Mist has not told anypony that there were to be two guardians assigned to you, but... No, that can’t be it, there had to be two ponies picked, even if for the chariot alone. But that could mean that she revealed to them her dissatisfaction with him, or...” His eyes widened. “... that the entire Covenant knew he was Occultan.”
Twilight almost choked on that damnable grape she had in her mouth. She managed to swallow it, tearing up, then she muttered. “Wait, wait. So... they were all notified that he was compromised. Nopony was surprised to see him gone. So they all... Could it mean...?”
“That they all wished to... I-I don’t know anymore,” Midnight responded, sighing and supporting his forehead with his hoof. “I’m even more concerned about tomorrow.”
“You’re suspecting the Lords to keep pulling things off?”
“I...” A shade passed through his face. “I-I would not be surprised.”
Twilight’s heart stopped for a second.
Behind Midnight’s voice, behind his concern, she heard something that caused her mind to panic. There was this little, almost inaudible note in his words that she caught on to. That hesitation that accompanies not a lie, but omission.
He was not telling her everything.
She reprimanded herself. Impossible. He was far too sincere with her this whole time to suddenly start hiding something from her. She was just tired and weary of hidden truths, implied meanings and all this charade...
She wanted to believe that was, indeed, it.
“Twilight?”
Midnight was staring at her with a curious expression. “Have you fallen asleep?” he asked further.
“No, no...” she replied, trying to sound casual. “I think so, at least. I’m exhausted.”
“Understandable. I will gladly escort you to bed, if you wish,” he offered, winking.
“Would it involve you carrying me?” she allowed herself to ask, remembering a rather pleasant moment from the night before.
“Maybe.”
She giggled, pushing back her dark thoughts and giving him a kiss on the lips. “You’re granted permission, guardian. You may also remain with me for the day.”
“Oh, thank you, Most Generous One.”
He grinned, lifting her up gently. He then took her to the bed, where he put her down with caution, dotting her neck with short, soft kisses.
Before long, Twilight was deep asleep, the forelegs of her beloved granting her the safety she longed for in this strange land.
***
“So, now what do you think?”
To Deep Mist’s question, Rowan Berry shrugged, her straight mane shifting like a curtain of dense fog. She did not mind admitting being wrong, but the amount of satisfaction her action was to give him was puzzling.
“I was attempting to be skeptical, indeed, but your revelations do seem based on truth. Most intriguing.”
“Intriguing? That’s your opinion? We are faced with treason—”
“Deep Mist, I am tired of you constantly spitting out accusations. They are not helpful,” she paused, glancing over his muzzle, keeping her tone as calm as always, “nor will they make your fang regrow.”
She knew he barely stopped himself from hissing at her. He instead bit his lip and approached his bag, checking its contents once more to calm down.
“I screwed up, but I’ve done what I could to repair my mistake. Perhaps one night—”
“Do you really think our Honored Lord shall change her mind about this error of yours?” Rowan Berry asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“I might still get a silver fang, wait and see,” he retorted.
She approached him and placed her hoof on his shoulder. “Calm down, Deep Mist. True, our Honored Lord Azure of Family Mist might forgive you, but do not make achieving this a priority. The fulfillment of our task is far more important.”
“You do not need to remind me, Rowan Berry. I just won’t let myself remain dishonored because of that Equestrian witch.”
She rolled her coral eyes, growing more and more weary with him. “Would it kill you to have a pint of respect for an adversary?”
He did not answer, closing his bags and sighing.
“You know what bothers me...”
“I do, Deep Mist, but the last thing you need now is being distracted further. You know your orders.”
He glanced at her, nodding. “Stay put, prepare, observe. I’m all set for tomorrow already,” he ascertained, approaching his gear, displayed on the table in the middle of the chamber. “When can I expect more news on the Princess and the talks?”
“Soon, no longer than a week. The Lords begin tomorrow, we can expect the situation to unravel quickly afterwards,” she assured him, sitting down and watching the candlelight glinting in the metal. “I will send a bat with official papers to Commander Ardent Fang, whilst notifying Blackbranch in advance to take care of our attached messages.”
To her words, Deep Mist smirked. “Do so. He’s a good foal, isn’t he? He needs to feel more engaged in our work.”
“His scouting in Maretonia was remarkable for someone of his age,” Rowan Berry agreed wholeheartedly. “He’s talented, although a bit skittish still. Yet a couple more years and he is going to be better than you and me and—”
“Let’s not get carried away here, Rowan Berry. For now, being an aide serves him well,” Deep Mist judged, pondering. “I didn’t know we wrote him such a good commendation. Adamant Fang never thought twice.”
“I am very much alright with the general not thinking too much. Last thing we need is him considering that the Lords do not trust in his commitment,” Rowan Berry ruminated, supporting her chin on her hoof. Then she straightened herself and took a parchment from the folds of her robe. “Take this with you tomorrow.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve managed to convince our Honored Lord to write this to Commander Ardent Fang. It explains your taming in a way for you not to lose your reputation among the Nightguard,” she let him know in a casual tone.
Deep Mist approached her in the blink of an eye and grasped the document from her hoof, his gaze stuck on the Mist Family’s seal.
It amused the mare a great deal when his jaw went slack.
“B-but why?” he stammered, his eyes full of disbelief.
“We need you in full readiness, not confined to the kitchens. Also, I did owe you one after Maretonia,” she admitted without any emotion, stating the obvious. “I still think you're a fool for letting yourself be careless, but a debt is a debt and I always settle my scores.”
Deep Mist chortled and his expression softened. “Of course. Still... this means a lot to me. Thank you, Rowan Berry.”
“Don’t get sentimental with me, Deep Mist. You’re useful, you must stay useful,” she coldly rebuked, her eyes glinting. “But, speaking of ‘sentimental’, do you have a letter that you want me to pass to your relatives?”
“Yes, right here.” He grabbed a parchment from between his belongings. “I have told my parents not to worry and explained everything... I pray for dad to take it well. But... can I be indebted to you now?”
Rowan Berry tilted her head. “Yes?”
“Can you tell Misthue,” he began, his eyes glinting when he mentioned the name, “not to be sad? I solemnly promise her that I shall come home as soon as we are done.”
“So keen on marrying her still?” the mare asked with interest.
“I’ve made her wait for too long already... Though I was always hoping she would be marrying a warrior with two fangs.”
Rowan Berry stood up and approached him. “Perform well enough from now on and she might still have that most beautiful night of her life,” she let him know, her eyes cold and her emphasis on his performance. “For now, I need to go and you should rest. You leave at sunfall tomorrow.”
He nodded and they gave one another a customary salute. As Rowan Berry was leaving, she decided to address him again.
“Oh, and do not worry about the Princess. She’s mine.”
“It’s not the Princess I am worried about,” Deep Mist replied, his expression saddening. “But the hold she has on Midnight Wind. You’re the best physician and herbalist around, Rowan Berry, yet I do not know if any of your procedures can cure this type of illness of the heart...”
She smiled. Her favorite, calm and friendly smile. “I have some methods, Deep Mist. Although it shall not be a pretty sight. I might be forced to... reopen some old wounds.” Her companion’s muzzle bloomed with a distraught expression. “You, in the meantime, shall make sure no sunpony gets too close to uncovering our plan or what is happening to the Princess.”
She paused, her expression growing cold.
“And if they do, help their souls face their infernal mistress.”
***
The landscape outside the train consisted mostly of a forest, a woodland and a thicket. The density of the Eastern Woods was known to everypony throughout Equestria and Moonwarden was astonished by the very existence of a railway leading towards his destination through this wilderness. He tried to spot the evening sky above the tracks and between the leaves. For naught.
“Who would want to live in such a hinterland...?” he said.
“Desperate ponies, no doubt. Or barbarians, flailing their axes around.”
“Those are called ‘lumberjacks’, I will have you know.”
“Oh, and here I thought they were ‘miners’. Thank you for clearing that up for me.”
Moonwarden sighed before reaching underneath his sturdy, traveler’s cloak. He first felt his monocle resting in one of the pockets of his vest, which calmed him down. Then he pulled out a portrait miniature, resting in a silver casing, both of which he had commissioned for a hefty price.
He stared at the likeness of his beloved, done in ivory and watercolor by the best craftspony he could have found. She looked so calm. So happy, carefree even. She was granting him a stare warm and affectionate, her smile with that allure he could never find words to describe properly.
That smile he knew he was bound never to receive.
“Pessimist,” he scolded himself without conviction, smirking.
He hid away the trinket, keeping it close to his heart, and looked around. His compartment was empty, the last of ponies travelling with him had left before the train delved into the forest.
“Nopony around to hear commotion, nopony to aid a commuter in time... These circumstances are perfect for a robbery.”
“Hmmm, quite.” He glanced left and right for stragglers before shrugging. “There is but nopony to rob.”
He chuckled softly, allowing his thoughts to run rampant and unchecked for a while, focusing on nothing in particular. Soon, he felt the train slowing down and he could swear that a clearing began to appear in between the oaks, maples, elms and whatnot.
“Ah, some civilization!” he exclaimed right before huffing.
“Please. Let us not be ridiculous.”
The village of Hollow Shades. A hamlet of wooden shacks, ornate with decades-old markings bound to bring prosperity and good fortune to the inhabitants. Where ponies lived away from the rush of Equestria, constantly attempting to tame the forest and create a peaceful seclusion for them and the children of their children.
Bah, at least the station looked slightly more modern than the rest of this... this.
Moonwarden made it out of the train, with the bag of his belongings gently placed over his back. In his long, dark cloak he could pass for a weary traveler.
Hmmm, he could even try dropping his usual mannerisms for the sake of a temporal disguise. He had not done this for some time now... Perhaps a little training would do him good.
“Master Moonwarden.”
A whisper from the only pony present at the platform made his idea redundant. How often could faint whispers destroy without effort...
A straw yellow earth pony approached him, trotting without a hurry. Her ruffled, juniper mane encircled her gentle face, with her round glasses bouncing on her muzzle as always.
Moonwarden casually checked the surroundings. “I prefer to bet that your cordial and straightforward greeting means that we cannot be overheard, Nettle Leaf...”
“Oh, nopony is observing us, sir,” the mare replied, smiling. “The High Council does not have any operatives present, I’ve triple-checked, just to be sure! And the local populace is really friendly towards strangers... Though if you wish for your visit to remain unannounced for longer, sir, we could put up an act of some sort.”
“No need to. Although, I have had this whole routine planned, with me being your jolly, if monochromatic, uncle Moonwarden. Such a pity it was a wasted effort on my end,” he allowed himself the sarcasm and a smile as well.
“I... Well, I could call you an ‘uncle’ if you wish it, sir,” Nettle Leaf offered with melting honesty and a spark of mischief to her eyes.
Moonwarden snickered, then stepped towards her. “I am glad the countryside is lifting your spirits, Nettlie. It is good to see you.”
She smiled, abashed. “Likewise, sir. And I do love it here. These forests are wonderful, so full of life, I’ve never before seen such variety of herbs. I could spend a lifetime here!” She got herself excited, her glasses hopping up and down on her nose as she kept talking.
“Wilderness suits you, unsurprisingly,” Moonwarden remarked, rolling his eyes.
Nettle Leaf giggled. “I know it’s not for everypony, sir, and I do have a room readied for you,” she assured, leading the stallion off the train station and into the town.
“ ‘Den’.”
“Pardon, sir?” she asked when the term escaped Moonwarden’s mouth.
He was looking around, assessing the hamlet bathed in the light of simple, primitive even, lantern-based street lamps.
“Oh, I am just evaluating this... whatever you wish to call this place,” he replied, waving his hoof around.
“You know, sir, ‘Hollow Shades’ usually works,” she gave him the answer eagerly and he repaid her with a long, weary look.
“Being snarky to your superior, what a brilliant career plan you have...”
“Sorry, sir,” Nettlie’s muzzle flared from embarrassment, but Moonwarden only chuckled.
“Do not worry, I am not devoid of humour, despite some rumours concerning my persona, you should know it well already,” he pointed out. Then he focused on one of the local huts that appeared ready to crumble into dust and oblivion. “And, actually, you do have a point. A ‘hollow’ sounds like an appropriate enough classification.”
“Things could be better for this village, indeed,” she agreed with him, herself looking at the decrepit building. “Nopony lives in here, fortunately... But, sir, there are plans on revitalizing the town. Our clinic is a good sign of that, no?”
She pointed at an almost finished, modern addition to the place. A small infirmary funded by some members of the Canterlot’s nobility for those “less fortunate”, standing on the edge of the clearing occupied by the hamlet.
“One initiative shall hardly be a proper aid here, even if it is a medical centre...” Moonwarden assessed, shrugging. “Then again, without continuous efforts no plan can succeed.”
“You are so right, sir,” Nettlie agreed, keeping up the pace while staring all around her. “Hollow Shades is like a little flower. It needs nurture and care and patience. But when it shall receive those, it will not only bloom, it will bear fruit!”
The stallion chose not to grace this excited comparison with his sarcasm. Instead, he decided to cut to the chase, with his voice but a tone louder than a whisper. “Your letters were immensely helpful, Nettlie. I have a good idea of the situation here.”
“I’m ready to help you in and with everything, sir. But, let us first get to my place, you must be tired after such a long travel,” she quietly said, waving at somepony in the distance entering his household.
“I am still capable of field missions, pay no attention to my greying hair,” he countered, making the young mare giggle.
The night was falling swiftly and the streets, if one was generous enough to call them that, were empty already. Light was seeping out from behind thick curtains or wooden shutters. The inhabitants of this village in the middle of nowhere were preparing for a night of rest.
Nettle Leaf’s cottage was decent, considering local standards, with a little front garden overflowing with flowers of all shapes and hues. White chamomiles, brilliant poppies, dandelions and goldenrods galore, violets attempting to outshine them all...
The combined fragrance tickled Moonwarden’s nose.
“Idyllic,” he remarked, looking for any roses present among this colorful sisterhood.
Nettlie’s smile broadened. “Thank you, sir. The landlord is very nice and actually allowed me to pay less as long as I shall take care of his plants.”
Moonwarden covered his mouth in mocked shock, considering that he was surrounded by a stellar example of botanical work.
“Poor stallion, he had no idea he shall allow you to live here for free.”
“No, no!” the mare denied, giggling. “But... well, I’m paying a quarter of the usual amount. ‘For working wonders!’ ” she quoted. “I-I have saved all of the remaining money. I shall return it to our fund, sir!” she assured, but Moonwarden waved his hoof dismissively.
“Commendable, but you have my permission to spend it however you want,” he responded with a sly smile. “The last thing I want is the Treasury asking idiotic questions about our financial policies. And, this way, it shall be swings and roundabouts, no?”
Nettle Leaf nodded, granting him an abashed grin, then opened her front door. Moonwarden was assaulted with the smell of herbs, medicine, as well as some other, powerful aromas. They almost caused his eyes to water.
He was not going to allow such triviality to ruin his decorum, naturally. “Home, sweet home,” he muttered, crossing the threshold after the mare, having had reached out for the last gasp of fresh air outside.
“I admit, it’s a bit stuffy, sir, I’m so sorry—” Nettlie began an apologetic rant, but Moonwarden stopped her almost in an instant.
“Please, do not worry, I did not come to criticize, or meddle in the affairs of your house. Back in Trottingham we use to say that your home is your castle. I am just saying that the place reflects you quite aptly.”
Those words were not without reason, considering the sheer amount of vials and other glassware all over the place, many filled with colorful, more or less inviting liquids. The living room was converted into a makeshift laboratory. Nettlie’s ever-faithful kettle was set in a place of honor by the window sill with her favorite choice of teacups already prepared.
Professional equipment accompanied by a touch of woodwork of the furniture and a multitude of potted plants.
Half-natural and half-scientific, organized chaos. Very appropriate.
Moonwarden passed his coat to the mare only after he had taken his cape from inside his bag and made sure it was properly placed on his entire back. He then ventured deeper into the room, looking around curiously and doing his absolute best not to touch any of the mare’s work.
While the mare decided to brew some tea, he went forth to examining everything around with utmost caution. And soon reached an intriguing conclusion.
“I am no specialist,” he began, musing over the contents of some of the bottles, especially having in mind those of them which were emitting a faint glow, “but intuition tells me that the amount of concoctions you have here would be enough to poison all the denizens of Canterlot. Twice.”
“Ekhm... Well, thrice, sir.”
Moonwarden turned to the mare and saw her muzzle flaring up as she was putting fresh tea leaves into the cups. It was not embarrassment that colored her face though.
“I did not waste a day, sir. And these forests are full of wonders! It’s amazing!”
While he sat, awaiting the water to boil, Nettle Leaf started trotting around the room, evading all of her equipment with skill. Her eyes were glinting with joy and her cheeks became red with sheer emotion.
“In some thickets aconite grows like daisies! There’s moonflower, nightshade, both stinking and deadly, large amounts of metel. I’ve even found a beautiful cavern with a spring and, sir, you won’t believe it – water hemlock!”
Moonwarden observed her enthusiasm and could not help but smile. She knew herbs, weeds and flowers like no other pony. And seeing her mane going wild and her spectacles jumping all over her face was peculiar. Rejuvenating.
“You have been busy. Any new brews?” he asked, gently attempting to point out that the kettle had started to whistle.
“Oh, sir, I could talk about that for hours! Painkilling, anaesthesia, raising of mental acuteness, as well as enhancement of sensory nervous system, even—”
Moonwarden coughed theatrically, rendering the kettle silent with a swift motion of his hoof. Nettle Leaf pushed her glasses up her muzzle and, looking down in abashment at her own absent-mindedness, sat at the table.
“A-apologies, sir. I'm getting excited too quickly, I know...”
“No worries, here comes some calming tea. Shall I be mother?”
Nettle Leaf continued sitting across from him with her face red while Moonwarden took care of the beverage.
“I say, I am overjoyed to see you in your element. Just make sure to write proper reports on all of your experiments. However, let us plan the next few days for now,” he said, taking a sip of the drink, then conjoining his hooves in front of his muzzle. “The mayor?” he asked, his face becoming grim to match his tone.
“Drunk again today, sir,” Nettlie replied, the very remnants of her enthusiasm evaporating, making room for the necessary focus. “It’s getting worse, ponies are on edge. They fear he’ll really drink himself to death.”
“That might be the case indeed, if he continues,” the stallion remarked without mercy in his voice. “Any ‘reasonable reasons’ for his behaviour?”
“Nopony knows anything for certain. Some claim that he got a letter from Baltimare recently and that his wife’s condition worsened and—”
“She could be on her deathbed or rotting alive for all I care,” Moonwarden hissed, feeling his upper lip quivering involuntarily. “He is to perform his duties to the country properly, or resign to be at her side. But he shall not continue with this cretinism.”
Nettlie shrunk on her chair, nodding, suddenly close to tearing up. “Y-yes, sir. A-as you say, sir.”
The stallion inhaled, helping himself to the tea. “The Royal Guard?”
“They... They’ve had nothing to do for the last quarter, maybe longer. Feuds between neighbors at best and nothing serious,” the mare reported, having had calmed down. “One could waltz right into their outpost and throw their documents all over the place... They would still pin it on a draft.”
“Disgraceful. I know somepony who would give them a decent thrashing for that. And it would not be me for once,” Moonwarden allowed himself a sliver of humor. “What of Jade Wind? Is he coming back from the mountains at all, or did he decide to go renegade after all?”
“Oh, yes!” Nettlie assured, her head nodding multiple times. “We are to meet in two days! I was meant to tell you immediately, sir, I’m sorry, Jade Wind told me that—”
“Do not fret. I am not casting blame or suspicion upon him. Yet,” the stallion replied. “I am most intrigued about what he has learned. I need to probe the situation before heading out to meet the Nightguard. Any signs or rumours about Princess Twilight would aid us immensely.” He locked himself in thought for a moment, then asked the mare again. “What do we know of this local captain of theirs? Sunfall ‘Ordain’ is really how her name is translated?”
“That’s what I’ve heard, yes. Apparently she is rather friendly, comes to the town ever so often to check in with the Royal Guard, or just to chat. I did not have a chance to meet her yet, however, or even see her...”
Moonwarden nodded, squinting his eyes. “Fine then. I will... pay due respects to the mayor first thing in the morning tomorrow,” he declared with frigid determination. “Then we shall wait for Jade Wind and hear his report. Afterwards, well...” He smiled to himself. “I am going to have my own rendezvous with a batpony.”