//------------------------------// // IV. Hidden Knives, Hidden Regrets // Story: Rise From Betrayal // by Diokno44 //------------------------------// The Royal Gardens, one of the most peaceful locations in the entire castle. Celestia and Luna would often come here to think, be alone from the politics and age old feuds of the various noble families. On this warm, summer night, the garden was quiet, save for the chirping of crickets, and the soft clanking of the ebony infused steel boots of the Night Guard. The Nightcore Regiment, comprised primarily of vamponies, were on their rounds. One of their number, a half Zebra, half Earth Pony mare turned when she heard the faint sound of unarmored hooves. She quickly turned, her spear's tip glowing. Alongside being a melee weapon with good reach, the spears of both the Day and Night guard were enchanted so they could fire a beam of magical energy, where it could be set to lethal or stun. She turned to find a familiar, infamous among the castle staff, noblestallion, facing away from her. ¨Prince Blueblood?¨ Ebony Hawk asked, surprised. She cocked her head, ¨What are you doing out here at this hour?¨ She asked Celestia's many times great nephew. Blueblood's ears perked up when he heard Ebony's voice pierce the relative silence of the gardens. He quickly spun around, his blonde mane swishing behind him. He put on an insulted expression, one he used often. ¨I am merely taking a stroll. I couldn't sleep well, not since....the incident.¨ He said, his tone even. He used all the breathing exercises he learned during a diplomatic meeting to Sri Lama to calm both his breathing, and his heart from beating too quickly. ¨I believe you have rounds to be completing guardsmare?¨ Ebony merely nodded, holding in all the things she wished to say to the pompous prince. ¨Then do so.¨ Ebony turned, and went back to her rounds. Prince Blueblood exhaled sharply, wiping his brow. He turned, and trotted to a secluded part of the garden, his sole saddlebag jiggling slightly. The prince found what he was looking for. It was a large hedge in the shape of a horseshoe. A large redwood tree created a natural umbrella from rain and heat alike. A bench sat in the middle of the horseshoe, facing the hoary tree. He ran his manicured hoof over the smoothed surface of the ancient stone bench. Turning around, he slowly sat on the bench, setting the saddlebag on his lap. ¨Time to business then.¨ Blueblood said to nopony in particular. His horn lit up, as the clasp on his bag, the Blueblood family crest, came undone. He opened the bag, revealing a single object occupying the finely tailored saddlebag. He held the object in his magical grasp, and slowly slid a bit of the dark cloth away, revealing the gleaming metal of a thin blade. ¨I have to bury you.¨ He said to the knife, one of many that had ended in the life of Princess Twilight Sparkle. The assassination had occupied his thoughts for some time now. It gnawed at the edges of his psyche like a parasite. With that, had come pangs of guilt, which he quickly drowned with the company of some of the finest mares bits could afford, and by focusing on his work on Celestia's Council of Lords. Blueblood stood up, the blade floating behind him. It spun slowly, like a sharp top. He bent down, focused on a patch of earth by the tree, in between two thick roots. Using the training given to him by the best tutors his father could get him, he could focus his magic on more than one object, The ground lit up, as clumps of cold earth rose up, and landed in a neat pile beside the growing hole, His breath caught in his throat as he beheld a lockbox. He gentley pulled it out of the ground, and opened it. It had never been locked. His eyes gazed at its contents. They were all from his days as a foal and a colt, when he had been carefree, with Celestia playing games with him, carrying him around. He wiped the tears from his eyes before they even formed. There was a sack of bottlecaps, his emergency currency stash for when, and if, the friendship megaspell bombs ever fell. They never did, but he had been prepared, alongside that were various other items, photos of him in various ¨cutesy¨ outfits, riding on Celestia's back while he was dressed in a sailor suit, and many more. One showed his sixth birthday party. A faint smile came to the prince's face as he recalled the happy memories. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Seventeen Years Ago A young Blueblood smiled, as he blew out the small flames on the six candles adourning his cake. Hooves were heard applauding the birthday colt. His mother, Sparkling Wine embraced him. ¨Happy birthday Blueblood.¨ She smiled, pecking her son on the cheek. He had giggled, and returned the hug, or as much as his young forelegs could. His father, Amadeus, looked at the duo, never smiling. He rarely did, and rarely gave compliments to his son. It was always commands, or criticism. His father had always said he was part of a proud legacy that dated back to the Long Night, when the brainwashed Wendigo legions had went into a bloody, three year war with Equestria and the neighboring lands, when winter lasted for three years, blanketing the nation in cold and depression. How it was through the efforts of Clover the Clever's newly made spell, coupled with a little help from the...¨mud pony¨ Crystal Heart, were they finally able to drive the Wendigoes back to Jotunheim, and restore the true king, Fimbulvetr, back on the throne. ¨Happy birthday Blooey.¨ Celestia smiled, trotting over to her nephew. Blueblood had grinned, and glomped his aunt's neck in a heartbeat. Blooey had been a nickname young Blueblood had come up with, since he had detested, at that age, having a word like ¨blood¨ in his name. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ¨What ever happened to those days?" Blueblood whispered, running a hoof across the picture. He was so innocent, so...happy. He sighed, choking back tears as he placed the items back into the box. He gently laid the dagger inside, and closed the box. ¨I'm sorry.¨ He said, placing the box back into its hiding place. But, he wondered, who was he apologizing too. Was it Princess Twilight, the mare who he had conspired to murder? Or was it his younger self, that playful colt that was always smiling, always laughing? He sighed, burying the box once again, albeit quickly, sloppily. He stood up, fixing his mane. He ran his hoof across his cheek, finding the remnants of a tear. With one last glance at the tree, he turned, and trotted back to his chambers, head bowed low.