//------------------------------//
// Script Forgets Why There Are No Male Alicorns 
// Story: Return to Equestria: The Rise of Roam 
// by Daniel-Gleebits 
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Return to Equestria: The Rise of Roam

Sunset Shimmer


Conventional wisdom asserts that making enemies of any kind is not a particularly prudent course of action. Sunset therefore regarded it as particularly stupid of her to have made enemies with a princess, and a queen.
The dining table stretched the length of the hall, laid with a midnight blue cloth, and laden with all of the fancy foods typically expected to be found on a royal dining table. But there were also things on it that Sunset didn’t recognise. Foods that Sunset had been informed in a round-about way had been grown to supplement those that could no longer survive without the sun’s full attention.
An evil-looking, round, blue fruit was glowing – literally glowing – at the centre of the table on a decorative mound of other known fruits. Not too far from this was a ragout of unknown composition that looked like some incorrigible child had binged out on candy for an hour and then thrown up into a casserole dish. On the other end of the table in front of Queen Moonborne stood a tall decanter half full of what looked like pink-purple smoke, although Sunset had never seen smoke that swirled in quite the way this was doing. It plumed from the top of the decanter, performed a few curlicues and twists, and then slipped neatly back down again without spilling over the sides.
Sunset rather felt as though she were inside some kind of haunted house, especially with Queen Moonborne herself looming over the table like the portent of doom in a second-rate play, and Princess Luna sitting rigidly beside her at the table’s head. Sunset’s only comfort was that Twilight was sitting beside her, cheerfully ignoring or not noticing the oppressive atmosphere.
“Nachtberry pie?” Script asked innocently, nudging a round dish of some sinister green desert towards Sunset from her other side.
“I’m full, thanks,” Sunset muttered. 
“Hm,” Script shrugged. “Suit yourself. Back home, it’s rude not to eat everything you’re given.”
“Don’t Roamans have a little room where they can purge themselves and make room for the rest?” Moonborne asked, her purple eyes glinting at Script.
Script scowled in thought. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Is that something Equestrians find ordinary?”
“I must admit, it did sound preposterous when I first came to hear of it as well,” Moonborne replied, a small smile curving her mouth. “But I didn’t want to simply assume. Our cultures are so very different after all.”
“We have some things in common,” Script said lightly. “I believe both of our kinds enjoy hunting. Nothing quite gets the patricians’ blood pumping as finding worthy prey. Or sometimes having the servants perform the sport instead. So much safer than doing it themselves, you know.”
Sunset looked at Moonborne askance. Her expression remained for the most part inscrutable, but her nostrils were flared, and her eyes hard. She felt sure that the queen had understood the implication.
“Such a fine representation of changeling architecture,” Script said wistfully, looking around at the tall, purple walls. “I have to admit that the ruins in the homeland are not nearly as sophisticated as those I’ve seen in Equestria. Also the colour is so much more pleasing than the off-orange I’m accustomed to.”
“I’m pleased to hear that you enjoyed your tour,” Moonborne said, stabbing at a chunk of glowing blue. “You should watch where you step, though. Not every part of the castle is open to visitors.”
Here she directed a sour glance at Sunset. Sunset pretended not to have noticed, and was greatly relieved when Twilight spoke up.
“How is your leg healing, Parchment Script?” she asked pleasantly. 
“Faster than I expected,” Script replied with a renewed brightness in his voice. “Most Equestrian magic is superior to Roaman counterparts.”
“A society that eschews magic in the main is a foreign concept to most Equestrians,” Luna mused from the head of the table, taking a sip of some dark liquid. “Many would wonder how you get along without it.”
“Where one means of doing something ends, often times another reveals itself,” Script said, bowing his head slightly.
“Does that apply to your system of governance as well?” Moonborne asked. “No princesses. No queens. No kings. One wonders how you manage such a large realm as the Republic with an old colt’s club steering things.”
“The senate has its uses,” Script said, his lip curling. “But individual matters of state are generally handled by those who are qualified to do so.”
“Like the military?” Moonborne asked, tilting her head slightly to one side.
Script raised his glass. “Yes. Like the military.”
He drank, and for a moment, silence filled the room. 
Sunset looked to her left at Princess Luna. Her expression, habitually stern, had developed a narrow look of suspicion as she looked between Script and Moonborne. After a few more seconds of dense silence, Luna raised her hoof. Without a word, the four thestral guards in the room exited. Once the large double-doors had closed behind them, Luna’s horn sparked. Out of the corner of Sunset’s eye she could see a faint glow around the room that her direct vision was unable to detect. A silencing spell.
“You understand, Parchment Script,” Luna began in and altogether more businesslike voice. “I am not playing host to you and your companion merely out of the goodness of my heart.”
Script nodded, setting down his empty glass. “You want information from me,” he guessed. “About the invasion I suppose.”
“It is my understanding that you’re a deserter,” Luna went on. “That you left the Roaman camp many months ago.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “That you’ve travelled Equestria extensively. That at one point you even gained entrance to Last Light.”
Sunset looked at him in surprise. “You came here before?”
“Oh yeah,” Script said offhandedly. “Best moon fruit this side of Equestria. Well worth the trip.”
“Ponies whom I’ve questioned inform me that you’ve been researching something,” Luna said imperturbably. “At a later point, I should like to know what it is that compelled you to betray your homeland in order to come here.”
“Abandoning one’s post and treason are not necessarily the same thing,” Script said, a little less airily than before. 
“What I want now, is to know what Roam’s intentions are,” Luna stated. “My eyes in Canterlot inform me that peace negotiations towards a finalised treaty have been going well these past weeks. Why would Roam make an unprovoked attack on Equestria’s southern border?”
“Oh, there could a number of reasons,” Script said in a tired sort of voice. “Personal glory has always been a regrettable culprit of most battles initiated by Roam. A misunderstanding, a faulty scouting report, new orders from home—“
“I don’t want speculation,” Luna interrupted. “I want answers. Why is Roam attacking?”
Script met her eye. “I don’t know,” he replied soberly. “I can only give you my suspicions.”
“It’s probably as he says, mother,” Moonborne cut in. “Roamans are an arrogant, discordant race. Their general likely got bored and—“ 
She halted as Princess Luna caught her eye, and fell silent.
“Rainbow Dash has personally informed me that the border has seen no further evidence of Roaman activity,” Luna went on. “The downed ventnavis outside of Dodge City has been seized by the royal army, and the Roaman casualties returned to Roaman custody.”
Sunset’s stomach squirmed unpleasantly at the thought of the ventnavis. She’d seen many small figures leave the machine as it fell, but knew deep down that not all would have made it. To hear it said so bluntly though...
“It is my belief that there will be an invasion,” Script said. “But it won’t be as a result of those currently in a position to start one.”
A short silence followed this.
“Don’t speak in riddles,” Moonborne snapped scornfully. “Say what you mean.”
“Eventually, there shall be an invasion. At least, I believe that there will,” Script stated. “What I mean is that those who want there to be an invasion must rely on others to do it for them. And those in charge simply cannot begin an invasion now, nor do I believe many of them want to. The legion does not have the resources or horsepower to conquer Equestria, only to defend Roaman territory.”
“Then we should strike first!” Moonborne cut in. “Hit them now before they gain any kind of reinfor—“
“That would be a slaughter,” Script interrupted. “The legion is a defending army. In the narrow valleys and flat desert plains of the Badlands, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Moonborne stood up, hooves planted on the table, opening her mouth to speak. She barely managed to form her first word when Luna silenced her.
“There will be no attack on the Roamans,” she said in a raised voice, glaring at her daughter. “Script is right. On their terms, in their territory, the Roamans would dominate any battle we fight against them. Their military might even after fifty years is still far superior to our own. And I shall not be the one to begin a new war.”
“Script,” Sunset spoke up quickly. She wasn’t sure if what she was about to do was necessarily the wisest decision, but she felt that it was the right one. “You said before that you’d tell me everything.”
Script’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes widened slightly, and a slight paleness came over his face. Almost instantly he caught himself, and flashed her a look of annoyance.
“I did,” he said he said a little tensely. “I wasn’t expecting to have to explain at dinner though. Nor in front of such exalted company.” He eyed Moonborne for a second or two.
“What is the goal of your researches?” Luna asked flatly. “If it has anything to do with the safety of Equestria—“
“There’s a conspiracy,” Sunset cut in. “By what Script has told me, somepony high up in the Roaman government has been the source of all of the misfortunes of the past seventy years.”
The table fell into a stunned silence, but then erupted into a fit of talking as Luna, Moonborne, and Twilight all began discussing what Sunset had just said. Sunset glanced sideways at Script, who was giving her an impassive stare.
“Is this true?” Luna demanded. Sunset’s heart went a little cold as she heard the beginnings of true anger in the princess’ voice.
“How can it be true?” Moonborne demanded. “Seventy years? No Roaman now alive could possibly be running a conspiracy against Equestria for that long. They would be ancient, and more than likely dead by now.”
“You’d be right,” Script sighed. “But it’s true. The plague, the war, the civil war back home. All of it was connected, as part of a plan to conquer both Roam and Equestria. Bring the world of ponies under one rule.”
“Preposterous,” Moonborne hissed scornfully.
“If this is true, then who is behind it?” Luna asked, her midnight blue eyes fixed unblinkingly on Script.
Script examined a utensil in his hoof for a moment. He opened his mouth, hesitating. The entire table – even Moonborne – was staring at him with some level of interest. Moonborne and Luna, their eyes hard and brows set. Twilight, her mouth slightly open and her eyeballs wobbling slightly in her sockets. Sunset, her jaw tight and feeling an uncomfortable heat running up her body.
“Neighro,” Script said finally. “He began it. Seventy years ago.”
Moonborne let out an impatient sound of derision. “We all know that he started the war,” she snarled bitterly. “And of course the Roamans spread the plague. Softening Equestria up for the invasion.”
“You seem quite comfortable throwing around spurious accusations like that,” Script said casually. “Almost like you want to divert attention.”
“Neighro is dead,” Luna said quietly, as Moonborne seethed quietly next to her. 
“Yes, he is,” Script agreed. “Sixty seven years ago, the senate declared him an enemy of the state, and he committed suicide to escape capture. The later years of his tenure in government were marked by an increasing level of psychosis. Insane orders and unfeasible plans almost led to the annihilation of the Republic, beginning a civil war that lasted over forty years, until Vespegasus and his two sons, Trotus and Domitian, eventually rose to restore order.”
“A forty year civil war?” Sunset said incredulously. “How could it have gone on for so long?”
“Many thought the Republic cursed,” Script said lightly. “All those who rose to fill Neighro’s position subsequently went as mad as he did. Some quicker than others, some seemingly staving it off for years. The initial coup against Neighro began a dangerous trend of individual military commanders and politicians vying for power, and as each replacement fell into madness, a new one rose to take their place. Peace never had time to settle before the country sagged back into war. Until Vespegasus, of course, who somehow managed to resist the curse of his predecessors and reform the military back into the service of the state. This of course made his claim to power all the more legitimate in the eyes of Roam. The pegasus blessed of the spirits, given to us to guide Roam back to glory.” He said this last part as though reciting some dreary slogan he’d heard a million times.
“So this was the reason for the armistice,” Twilight said wonderingly. “The Republic must have been in near constant turmoil. They couldn’t have committed to a war even if they’d wanted to.”
“What was this madness?” Luna asked. “Was the cause ever discovered?”
“Not in official records,” Script said. “As I say, many felt that the position was cursed, and that any who rose to take it would be doomed to the same end. I know some suspected that foreign powers were responsible, that they were using magic or poisons to destabilise the state. Rumours of changelings infiltrating the senate and imperial palace led to a systematic extermination some thirty five years ago, but nothing changed.”
Moonborne’s face went dark red at this, but she seemed to be trying not to interrupt with her mother so close by.
“Whatever the case,” Script went on. “Vespegasus did not go mad. Over the course of just a year, he stabilised the military and re-established the Republic’s borders. For most of his time in office, he has focused more upon the nation’s infrastructure than on foreign excursions.”
“You believe this will change?” Luna asked sharply.
“I believe that he’ll have no choice,” Script said quietly. “The attack over Dodge City represents a defeat to Roam, even if no battle took place. Even now the capital will be buzzing with the news of the loss of a ventnavis and the deaths of its crew. Vespegasus will simply not be able to ignore it. It’d be political suicide.”
Sunset thought back to the office in Dodge City, to the hateful voice on the other end of the radio. He had said essentially the same thing. It seemed that Script at least believed the validity of this prediction.
“I don’t pretend to know how Equestrians would take such news,” Script said more gravely. “But I know exactly how Roam views it. The population will see a sign of weakness. The patricians already have begun vying with each other over a myriad of things: Command in the army, war profiteering, future governorships. All before the war even begins. Vespegasus will have to act, or endure the wrath of every pony in Roam.”
“If all of that is true, then I can understand that he has to do something,” Twilight said, outraged. “But war? How can that be the first response?”
“It’s not as unusual as you seem to think,” Script sighed, sounding tired.
“The first and last resort of Roamans,” Moonborne murmured venomously, giving Script a look half-way between gloating and scornful. 
“Quite so,” Script said wistfully. “My people never were very imaginative when it came to diplomacy. It generally boils down to ‘Which will you have? War, or peace?’ And then when they choose war, the stones start flying.”
A short silence followed these musings. Sunset looked instinctively to Princess Luna, who looked deep in thought. Then she looked to Twilight.
“What do we do?” Twilight asked tentatively. “If war is inevitable...”
“How long do we have?” Luna asked suddenly.
“Ooh...” Script groaned, shutting his eyes and screwing up his features. “Loyal Stride would be better at answering that. If I had to put a number to it, though,” he conceded. “Given what Loyal Stride has told me about the state of things in the Badlands and at home, I’d have to say that it’ll come within the year.” He bit his lip. “I’d say no later than six months.”
“Let them come!” Moonborne barked, standing up abruptly. “My swarm will be ready at the least! Let them try fighting us on even terms for once!”
Script put his hoof to his mouth to stop himself laughing, but all it did was force it through his nostrils. Moonborne snarled at him.
“You think that’s funny?” she demanded, slamming a hoof onto the table. 
“A brave sentiment,” Script chuckled. “But I don’t think you quite understand what it means to fight a modern military. Swarm tactics might work well against helpless towns of civilians, or an unwary city guard. But against the legion?” He looked her square in the eye. “Meat to the grinder.”
Moonborne gave a cry of rage and pushed her chair back, her horn crackling with spectral purple lightning. Before she’d taken two steps, Luna was on her feet as well.
“That’s enough!” she ordered in a resounding voice. Her own horn glittered with ethereal energies, and the sparking torrent from Moonborne’s horn flickered and dimmed. “I shall not tolerate this behaviour in my dining hall!” she growled, low and fierce. 
Under her mother’s eye, Moonborne sat slowly back down, her head lowered.
“I’ve had enough of these outbursts,” she continued to hiss at Moonborne. “You must learn to comport yourself with the dignity of royalty, not argue like some petulant child.”
“But, he—“ Moonborne began in a strangled voice. Meeting Luna’s eye, she bit her lip and lowered her head again. “Yes, mother.”
“I didn’t mean to give offense,” Script said after a short pause. “That time,” he admitted pointedly. “It is a fact though. It would be unwise for you to openly challenge the might of Roam. As you said: war is what we do.”
“Script,” Sunset spoke up. “You mentioned before that you first learned of the conspiracy during an... incident.”
Script’s impassive expression turned stony. “Yes,” he said.
“Was it, um,” Sunset went on when it seemed as though Script wasn’t going to elaborate. “The way Loyal Stride talked about it, I suppose it’s something you two didn’t like to discuss.”
“Oh, on the contrary,” Script said, suddenly sounding tired. “I wanted to discuss it with him extensively. But he—“ 
Script stopped himself, taking a deep breath as though to return to calm. 
“The Abomination, it was called,” Script said, pressing his hooves together as though interlocking fingers. He looked around at the members of the table, as though taking in their appearances properly for the first time. 
“This incident,” Luna began. “What is its significance to this conspiracy?”
“It’s the very crux of it. It allowed me to understand exactly what the enemy is after. And just how immeasurably fucked we are if they should succeed.”
Luna blinked at this, and Twilight went bright red.
“Such language,” the latter muttered, keeping her eyes down on the table.
“Explain,” Luna said curtly.
Script sighed a heartfelt sigh. “Where to begin,” he muttered in a far away voice. “Oh where, oh where.” He leaned back in his seat and frowned for a few moments. “Some time ago, Loyal Stride, General Trotus, my sister, and I, worked in close proximity with one another. In the Imperial Palace, as a matter of fact. Loyal Stride was a lieutenant in the Praetorian Guard. My sister served under Trotus directly as his personal chemist and engineer, and I as the senior archivist to the imperial library. During this time, the Princeps was taking a grand tour of the Republic during the seemingly endless celebrations, and Trotus occupied his duties in the capital. It was about that time that the disappearances began.”
No pony spoke. Everypony in the room was staring transfixed at Script as though listening to a man’s dying words. Script, staring at his own hooves, didn’t appear to notice as he continued.
“One by one the servants began to vanish. In total it was probably around about eight. It’s possible that no pony would have ever noticed if it hadn’t been for Paper Weight.”
Script’s mouth thinned, and his brow deepened. “When he disappeared, the Praetorians had already become suspicious, but it was assumed that the others had disappeared outside of the palace. But Paper Weight was my colleague, and had remained hours after he should have gone home, and so I was present when he disappeared.”
“Did you find him?” Twilight asked in a hushed voice.
Script’s hooves made a slight grinding sound. “In a manner of speaking,” Script said through slightly gritted teeth. “I found him. I used my magic to find the place, and—“ He paused again. “Whoever had done it was not there, but the... remains, the results were there for everypony to see.”
“Remains?” Luna repeated quietly. 
“Remains,” Script repeated more forcefully, as though annoyed. After a few seconds, he looked furtively at Luna. Apparently regretting this outburst, he looked back down and went on in a more controlled voice. “What was left of the missing servants was little more than crystal. In pieces, being studied.” 
Sunset found it hard to look at him as he tried to force the words out. His eyes were evidently seeing something that none of the rest of them could. Given the loss of colour in his face, she for one was glad that she couldn’t see what he seemed able to.
“The missing ponies had been turned to crystal?” Moonborne said wonderingly. “How?”
“They had been turned to crystal, yes,” Script said tensely. “But it was beyond that. They weren’t simply crystal. There was something dark about them. It was evil. What had been done to them was nothing that should ever be done to a living being.”
“I don’t understand,” Luna said. Of all of those at the table, she alone seemed to be more-or-less unperturbed by Script’s chilling tale. “I can see that this is a painful topic for you, but what has it to do with the topic we are discussing?”
“Everything,” Script said sharply. “The discovery caused a scandal. Scapegoats were found.”
“They blamed you?” Sunset blurted.
“Partially,” Script grunted. “I bore the brand of negligence. As a senior member of the palace staff, I should have taken greater notice of what was happening. Loyal Stride was condemned the most in that regard, having been in charge at the time, and Trotus lost status defending him. If he hadn’t, Loyal Stride might well have been exiled.”
“But who was blamed for the crime if the culprit wasn’t caught?” Twilight asked. “Or were they found?”
“No, they weren’t,” Script said, scowling. “Or if they were, the blame was shifted.” He snarled, baring his teeth. “To my sister.”
A heavy silence fell after this revelation. Looking around, Sunset noticed that even Moonborne looked discomposed. Script on the other hand seemed to have become inexplicably calmer. After staring at his hooves for a few moments longer, he drew in a deep breath, and said in a disconcertingly casual voice
“It was the easiest choice. Unicorns are so little regarded that it was almost guaranteed that no pony would argue against it. And so we come to the present day,” he said, smiling. “Or more or less. My sister was to be executed initially, but through a combination of lack of evidence, and through the exchange of a few favours, she joined the rest of us in banishment. Well,” he added, his lip curling in disgust. “What was essentially banishment. Trotus vouched for Loyal Stride, Pen Stroke, and myself, meaning that all four of us were transferred to the Badlands. Far away from the sight of those whom our presence might offend.”
Sunset stared at Script for a short while as Moonborne, Luna, and Twilight, all spoke amongst each other. Something was nagging at her; something in the side of her head was telling her that she should have noticed something in what he’d said. At first she couldn’t place it, but thinking back, she remembered first meeting Script in the Ponyville ruins.
“That bone!” she blurted.
Script looked suddenly around at her, and the conversation around the table halted. 
“The one you had in your hideout. The one Sonata touched,” Sunset said slowly. 
Script regarded her shrewdly for a moment, and then smiled thinly.
“Yes,” he said, sounding faintly impressed. “As I told you back then. That was the focus of my research.” He looked at her head on and, unexpectedly, laughed out loud. “And she broke it!” He laughed again, shaking his head a little.
“You still haven’t explained,” Luna said, frowning at him. “What is it that you were researching? What is the aim of this conspiracy?”
Script snickered himself back to seriousness, or near enough.
In most situations as tense and serious as this one, Sunset would have expected somepony imparting dangerous information to do so in a sober, perhaps even grim manner. But Script – perhaps the most mercurial individual Sunset had yet come across – delivered it with the eagerness of somepony who had their finger on a large red button, and the words “DO NOT PRESS!” written above it. If that wasn’t enough, he proceeded to answer the question with a question.
“Let me ask you all a question,” he said, looking at them all in turn. “Who here knows why there are no male alicorns? You’re not allowed to answer though,” he said, his emerald eyes darting to Princess Luna.
Sunset instinctively followed his line of sight. Her mouth fell open at what she saw.
“M-Mother?” Moonborne stammered, also looking at the princess.
Luna’s face looked like a death mask. The colour in her eyes had shrank so much that they appeared to be almost white. Her face meanwhile had bypassed paleness, and turned a sickly grey, whilst her folded hooves were suddenly tense on the tabletop. She stared at Script for a full four seconds before speaking.
“You cannot possibly be aware...” she hissed. “No pony can know that.”
“Yes,” Script said, evidently enjoying the effect he’d had. “I can see how it would be problematic, given what it might lead to.”
“I don’t understand,” Twilight said, looking between Script and Luna in puzzlement. “What is he talking about? Male alicorns; there’s no such thing.”
“Not anymore, no,” Script said, grinning. “And for good reason.”
“Be silent!” Luna barked, smacking the table sharply with her hoof. 
“I already know,” Script snapped back, suddenly irritable. “And it’s important that everpony here knows this. Because like Princess Twilight, alicorns can be created.”
Luna’s angry expression clenched even further, her teeth bared. “Are you honestly trying to say that this conspiracy is all in order to—“
“Create a male alicorn,” Script said over her. “Yes.”
“No,” Luna said firmly, as though saying so would make it untrue. “That’s impossible. Not only is it impossible, it simply... how could anypony...” 
Anger and disbelief mingled unpleasantly on Luna’s countenance. It took a moment or two for Sunset to realise it, but what she was seeing there was fear. And not the soft, gentle, afraid-of-a-spider-on-your-bedroom-ceiling kind of fear. No, this was the kind of fear that one sees on the collective faces of a sentient species as the shadow of a celestial body twice the size of their own humble planet swings inexorably towards them over the final horizon.
“You did a decent job of eradicating any mention of them from history,” Script said, bowing his head slightly at Luna, the latter too preoccupied with images that Sunset was fervently glad, given the way Luna was fidgeting, that she couldn’t see. “Although since it all took place almost pre-history, that likely made the job easier. But other cultures were aware of them as well. They don’t occupy a large part of history given how long ago it was that they disappeared, but—“
“HOLD THINE TONGUE! Luna shrieked, standing up suddenly. After a few moments of her glaring at Script’s stony face, she took a moment to compose herself, and then went on, her jaw tight as an artillery spring. “You will not breathe a single word more on the subject, or there shall be consequences.”
Script regarded her for a moment with something like disgust. It was as though he were disappointed at the response. 
“You can’t bury your head in the sand over this,” Script said severely. “You lived in those times. You know better than anypony what a male alicorn’s existence would do to our world.”
“I do,” Luna replied, her voice dripping with icy venom. “And no pony else must know. You have no idea of the danger ponies would put themselves in should information of that time were known!”
“I’m sorry,” Twilight spoke up. “But it seems to me that if what Script is saying is true, shouldn’t we at least hear him—“
“I have heard enough!” Luna snapped. “All of you will leave. Now. Except for you.” She snapped at Script.
It took the three of them a short while to remove from the hall. Moonborne continued to look at her mother as though she’d never seen her before, and Twilight evidently had a number of things she was bursting to say. Sunset on the other hand was reluctant to leave Script alone with Princess Luna. The particular glare she was employing on him looked very much to Sunset like the look a stubborn old dragon gives to anything coming within a certain radius of its gem hoard. 
One-by-one, however, they all rose from the table, and shuffled their way to the double doors. Once the guards had closed the hall off behind them, the three stood for a second regarding one another. Moonborne quickly adopted a look of haughty displeasure, and flounced off towards the main staircase. Twilight on the other hand was beginning to look how Sunset felt.
“I’ve never seen Princess Luna react that way,” Twilight said, a little breathlessly. “Have you ever heard of male alicorns?”
Sunset shook her head. “No. Not even all of the forbidden books in Canterlot hold information on a male alicorn.” 
And I’d know she thought, feeling a slight flush come into her cheeks.
“It’s never occurred to me really,” Twilight muttered. “There are no princes who are alicorns. Only princesses. I don’t see what could possibly be so dangerous or terrifying about it.”
“I’ll ask Script about it later,” Sunset said thoughtfully. “If he knows, he’ll be able to tell—“
“I’m afraid that that shall not be possible, Sunset Shimmer,” said a harsh voice.
The doors opened again, and through them stepped Princess Luna. Behind her, his face studiously blank, trotted Script. Without a word, he made his way swiftly down the corridor in the opposite direction to the staircase, ignoring Sunset’s call for him to wait.
“Do not seek after this knowledge,” Luna said warningly. “There is a reason my sister and I worked so hard to maintain its secrecy. Fate does not smile kindly on those who would subvert her intentions.”
She paused after this pronouncement, as though thinking that Sunset might have something to say back. But Sunset said nothing, and kept her gaze to the floor. 
As soon as Luna’s hoof-steps had disappeared in the direction of the stairs, Sunset turned to Twilight.
“What do you suppose she meant? Fate doesn’t smile kindly on those who would subvert her intentions. What does that mean?”
Twilight shook her head. “It sounded rather cryptic to me. Well, I’ll see you in the morning.” She smiled, and trotted off after Princess Luna.
Sunset paused until she was out of sight, and then ran as fast as she could after Script. As much as she respected Luna’s opinion, and as much as she felt bad for disobeying her, if this had something to do with Sonata’s affliction, then she had to know. She simply had to. And she wouldn’t deny, she was a little curious as to what could possibly by so dangerous about male alicorns as to frighten even an alicorn princess.
She imagined that Script would have made it almost to his room by this point, when she turned the corner, and found herself nose-to-nose with him. Evidently he’d been waiting for her around the corner. 
“Didn’t teacher ever tell you not to run in the corridors?” Script asked sardonically, smirking.
Sunset glowered at him from inside the sky-blue aura keeping her from pelting into him.
“What’s got you so cheerful?” she asked, noting the odd change. He let the aura wither, and she dropped to the floor. “You looked annoyed just now.”
“Well I would, wouldn’t I?” Script replied. “She put a selective amnesia spell on me. So, yeah; annoyed would be a good state of mind to be in.”
Sunset’s heart sank. “Are you serious?” she said despairingly. “So you can’t remember what’s so special about male alicorns that has Luna so scared?”
“Not at present, no,” Script said breezily.
Sunset eyed him narrowly, taking in his look of serene calmness and the small smile playing about his mouth. There was something in how he’d phrased that.
“So...” she began slowly. “You can undo it? Oh!” she gasped excitedly. “Of course you can. You can do alicorn magic!”
“Yes,” Script conceded. “And that’s the good news.”
Sunset’s mouth thinned. “Which I assume means that there’s bad news,” she said through her teeth.
“Afraid so,” Script said, giving her a sanctimonious little bow. “The spell that would cure me of this pesky amnesia can’t be performed by me, on me. It has to be done by another who has alicorn magic.”
“Who? Twilight?” Sunset asked, absently looking to the side where she thought Twilight might be. “That’s a bit of a stretch in my opinion; I don’t think she’d feel right opposing Princess Luna’s will like that.”
“Well you know her best, I suppose,” Script said companionably. “But I wasn’t thinking of her.”
Sunset frowned at him. If not Twilight, then who? Princess Luna certainly wasn’t going to do it. And Queen Moonborne – even if they could persuade her to do so – Sunset was sure that her magic didn’t count as alicorn magic.
Then it hit her. She felt a wave of goose-bumps erupt over her skin.
“W-Wait a minute,” she stammered. “You don’t mean me, do y—“
She was cut off as Script leapt forward and enfolded her in a close embrace.
“Oh please, doctor!” Script cried in a voice trembling with the cringiest levels of melancholy and despair. “Say you’ll cure me! I’ll do anything, just say that you can take this terrible burden from my quaking shoulders.” His voice dipped low towards the end, finishing on a pathetic, sniffling sob full of emotion and much wiping of glistening eyes that, upon closer inspection, weren’t teary at all.
“Get off!” Sunset grunted, shoving him off.
Script grinned, chortling to himself. “You know, I  don’t think I ever did say it. But I’m really quite glad that you and I met, Sunset Shimmer.”
Sunset gave him a look that she was trying to make look urbane, and then sighed.
“Come take a walk with me,” Script said, gesturing up the hallway. “We could do with a bit of fresh air, I think.”





Sunset didn’t much like the idea of strolling into the town. It wasn’t because of the changelings, or the odd structures, or even the somewhat predatory appearance of the Nightlanders. Part of it was the fact that she didn’t want Script walking amongst them; she’d noticed the general atmosphere of the castle when ponies and changelings visited becoming ostensibly colder when they saw Script or Loyal Stride. The other, and more personal reason, was that she’d been to the town once during their stay, and realised that the crystal tree, Fluttershy’s final resting spot, was visible from just about anywhere in the town. Beautiful though it was, the sight was painful; it reminded so forcefully of the friends that she’d lost in the other world, and perhaps more painfully, of the love she felt for Sonata. 
There was no getting around it, and no point lying to herself. Every time she thought of Sonata, even when she tried to picture good times, the tight knot deep in her heart squeezed, and memories of Sonata’s temporary immersion into darkness came creeping into her mind. It hurt her more than anything else to admit it to herself, but she knew what the knot represented, and what it signified for their relationship. 
How could she love Sonata when, deep down, she was terrified of her?

“That is a conundrum,” Script admitted in an off-hand voice. “If I come up with anything, I’ll let you know.”
Sunset scowled at him. She felt that by this point he and she were friends enough to be able to talk about these things together, and so felt the sting to her vulnerable feelings quite keenly.
“Haven’t you ever been in love?” she asked impatiently.
“Sure,” Script replied.
“Well, didn’t you have problems like this?”
Script frowned, considering. “We never really had much time for big problems to set in,” he said wistfully. “And he was always so infernally agreeable. It drove me nuts when I wanted him to disagree with me.”
Sunset raised an eyebrow. “He?” she registered.
“Surprised?” Script asked knowingly. “As fascinating as our love-lives are, they aren’t the reason for why I asked you on this walk down this charming country lane.”
Much to Sunset’s relief, they had indeed missed the town, and turned south towards a large stretch of fields. A well-worn dirt thoroughfare ran between two stone walls, on the one side of which was a large expanse of small green shoots in neat rows, and on the other, an orderly forest of trees. The town and castle lay directly behind, which suited Sunset nicely.
“I assume you want to tell me how to take that amnesia spell off you?”
“I want you to practise using alicorn magic,” Script corrected. “And this will give you a goal to work towards. Blasting your marefriend with a haphazard burst of raw magical power is one thing, but control is quite another.” He paused, scrunching his lips a little and narrowing his eyes. “It sounds like there should be a proverb in there somewhere,” he muttered.
“Any particular reason why I should be learning how to use alicorn magic?” Sunset inquired suspiciously.
“Well to get this bleedin’ amnesia off me, for one,” Script huffed. “But there is another reason. But there’s no point going into that yet. It might never need to happen.”
Sunset rolled her eyes, annoyed by this ostensible lack of an actual explanation. “I’m not asking,” she said firmly.
Script looked at her, puzzled. “Okay,” he said uncertainly.
“You do that all the time,” Sunset said severely. “You say things that you know will make ponies ask you questions.”
Script shrugged. “A consequence of so many thoughts and so little time,” he said in a melancholy voice. “Besides, here’s something I will talk to you frankly on. How would you like to do me a favour, and get the two of us into the Crystal Empire?”
Sunset blinked, wondering if she’d heard him right. Before she had a chance to ask however, they came to a T in the lane, and found three ponies standing a little ways down the length of it on their immediate right. The Flim-Flam Brothers, and – Sunset’s heart did a little jump when she saw her – Applejack.
“Why, howdy there!” Applejack said in response to Sunset’s delighted exclamation of surprise. “Es been a long taime, Sunset.”
“You know each other?” Flim said uncertainly, looking between them.
“Accordin’ to Twilight, that’s a bit of a complex question,” Applejack grinned, showing her pointed teeth. “Personally, ah only done seen her once disappearing through a magic mirror. Stretch here though, he’s a different story,” she said, holding out a hoof towards Script.
Script looked blankly at the hoof.
“You’re supposed to shake it,” Sunset murmured.
“Why?” Script asked.
“It’s a way of saying hello,” Sunset explained, whilst Applejack continued to smile pleasantly, and Flim and Flam stood slightly to one side, their expressions tight and their mouths quivering.
Script gave his head a little shake, and put out his hoof to shake, and then let out a gasp as Applejack gave several spirited tugs up and down, nearly sending him off balance.
“Pleasure makin’ yer acquaintance,” Applejack chuckled pleasantly, letting go of his hoof and allowing him to stagger backwards a little. “Don’t think ah ever actually met a genuine Roaman before.”
“You know, sometimes I get lonely,” Script grumbled to Sunset. “But then I remember how much ponies annoy me.”
Sunset ignored him. “So, do you three know each other?” she asked, bracing herself as Applejack shook her hoof too.
“Us?” Applejack asked, indicating the brothers. “Oh, we go way back. We’ve had our ups and downs from taim to taim. But we worked out them differences long ago. Ain’t that right?” she asked the brothers.
Sunset couldn’t be sure of it, but she rather thought she saw something like apprehension in the toothy smiles the brothers were affecting. 
“As we like to say,” Flim said cheerfully.
“The past is the past,” Flam added, giving a self-conscious sort of laugh.
“Besides, the future offers nothing if not prospects,” Flim continued, eying Applejack closely.
“Don’t push it, boys,” Applejack said, suddenly deadpan.
“Right,” Flam muttered, coughing a little.
Applejack took her piercing stare off the brothers and returned them to Sunset and Script, the latter of which took a surreptitious step back.
“Anyway, ah knew y’all was here. Ahm jess sorry ah ain’t been able to get away from the farm t’give yah a proper greetin’. Spring taime tends to creep up on yah.”
Sunset was about to assure her that she quite understood, when suddenly she became aware of a sound from somewhere behind her. She paused, one of her ears flicking upwards. It sounded to her – though she knew that it couldn’t be – like a vacuum cleaner. A long, low, muffled rumbling like the sound of someone vacuuming on an upper floor. Looking around, she could see that everpony else could hear the sound as well. Then she nearly jumped clear of the ground as a loud roar erupted behind her, and then died away back to the low rumble. 
Spinning around, she was just in time to get a face-full of dust that came billowing down the lane.
“W-What... *kaff* What was that?” Script spluttered.
“Ah coulda sworn it was—“ Applejack began slowly.
“Our vehicle!” Flim and Flam squawked together.
“Stop!” Flim cried, belting off towards the crossroad.
“Thief!” Flam bellowed, hot on his brother’s heels.
Script, Sunset, and Applejack all looked at each other.
“I know I should feel bad for them,” Script said lightly. “But somehow I don’t.”




- To be Continued