Despite growing up in an extremely safe and secure environment, the Prince Bronze Star was no stranger to hardship. His mother, Princess Celestia, would have loved to have sheltered him from all the difficulties of everyday life, but she always knew she could not. To convince him that life was free of troubles would have been irresponsible and impractical. Aside from that, just as she was her country's past and present, Bronze Star was its future. As the heir to the throne, he was expected to understand the trials and tribulations of the common ponies of Equestria. Otherwise he would never make a good leader.
As such, Celestia had played a very active part in her son's rearing. She wished to ensure that he understood that while ponies were meant to enjoy life, it was not supposed to be easy, not even for the privileged few of the Canterlot Royalty.
At an early age, he was taught that the well-being of others needed to be placed about his own well-being. He had been a little slow to understand and accept that lesson, but once he got a firm grasp of it, his mother began educating Bronze Star on what was expected of him.
She started by having him read elaborated records of Equestria's history. Anytime he came across a dark or tragic period – few though there had been during his mother's relatively peaceful reign – she asked him what he would have done to fix it. Initially, he gave inadequate or unideal answers, but eventually, every one of his proposals was just what she had been hoping for. Sometimes, his solutions were even better than the ones she had envisioned.
That was only the first part of Celestia's plan to enlighten her son on the struggles in the world. Whenever a crisis emerged anywhere in the country, Celestia sought her son's counsel on how to approach and correct the fiasco. Whenever the Castle's servants were overworked or shorthoofed, she had him assist them with their duties. When he was old enough to wield a sword, she had him train in the ways of the military. When he was of age, she had him attend her meetings with the War Council.
She had frequently given him tasks that were often arduous, stressful, and occasionally even a little demeaning. Even so, Bronze Star never once complained. He loved his mother with all his heart, and he knew full well that she loved him just as much. Plus, he still grew up in luxury. Aside from that, he knew that these assignments were meant to make him a better pony.
Not only did this upbringing make him a strong, devout, and hardened stallion, but it also made him into a very humble, compassionate, and empathetic pony. Celestia could not have wished for a finer heir. So proud was she of Bronze Star that she genuinely believed that whenever she stepped down, he would be an even greater ruler than she was.
Although Bronze Star was now fully aware of all the problems faced by ordinary ponies, he was still relatively inexperienced in facing many of those problems himself. He had never yearned for anything. He had never been sick, he had never been hungry, he had never been thirsty, he had never been poor. Just about everypony he knew had always treated him with respect, adoration, dignity, and love.
He was by no means unacquainted with hurt, however. He did know what it meant to be in pain. He had plenty of experiences to prove it.
When he was three, his mother had told him that it was impossible to teleport out of the Castle. Within the Castle, yes, but in or out of it, no. Give his foalish nature, he had naively chosen to ignore his mother's caution. One morning, he had been flying around the throne room. At one point, he had flown at great speed towards one of the stained-glass windows. Unwilling to change his path, he had tried to teleport to the other side of the window. Instead, he sailed right through it.
His mother had been far more frustrated by how her son had blatantly ignored her warning than she had been by the broken window. All the same, she did not punish him; the injuries he had received from the shards of glass were chastisement enough. Plus, he learned his lesson; he never once tried teleporting in or out of the Castle ever again.
That was only the first of Bronze Star's many encounters with pain.
When he was five, he had tripped on a stairwell and fallen two stories to its base. Oddly enough, he was being given a lesson on proper poise and grace at the time of that mishap. When asked by his instructor why he fell, the prince could only claim that his mind had been elsewhere.
When he was eight, the Castle's chef Haute Cuisine made him one of his favorite treats, cherry and lemon tarts. Bronze Star helped himself to one fresh out of the oven. A little too fresh out; he had all but burnt his mouth when he bit into it. His tongue and gums were almost completely numb for three days afterwards.
When he was twelve, he had been flying with his mother in the open skies above Canterlot. Although Celestia was clearly the superior flyer, her son was determined to lap her. His efforts to overcome her seemed to be in vain, but he refused to yield. His persistence won over his rationale, and he ended up spraining one of his wings.
Ever since he was fifteen, he had received countless scrapes, bruises, bumps, minor cuts, and a few scars from his eleven years of military training. Of course, those were just as much his fault as his other injuries. At the prince's urging, his trainers had treated him the way they would treat any other recruit in the armed forces. So they never – not once – went easy on him.
So pain was a subject Bronze Star had a lot to talk about. Regardless, he had learned some invaluable lesson from each one of his injuries. Elegance, patience, tact, durability… pain had reaffirmed those qualities in him.
Plus, his trainers had told him "Whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger." That was definitely true. Overtime, he had developed an immunity to most physical forms of pain, and many things that would typically kill a normal pony would hardly even hurt him. One could very well argue that he was the strongest stallion in the whole of Equestria.
That was not to say he was impervious to pain altogether. He could still be wounded by certain means.
On a night almost a year ago, he had received a gash from a spiked club on his temple, just below his ear. That same night, he had been thrown roughly against a stone wall.
About a month after that, he had practically gotten his right front hoof cut open. Later on, he ended up regarding that as a rather humorous event, but his wound had hurt profoundly at the time.
Another month later, he had lost all feeling in his mouth and developed an unpleasant stutter for half a day. That turned out to be an even more humorous event, but it was still extremely unpleasant and somewhat degrading, as well.
All those damages were trivial compared to the one he had received just two months prior. On that occasion, Bronze Star had been stabbed directly in his chest. The blade that had done the deed was sharper than a razor and straighter than an arrow. Worse yet, he had been unable to get the injury treated or relieve himself of the pain afterwards. Had it not been for his extraordinary resilience and his Alicorn anatomy, he would have almost certainly died.
Although he eventually recovered from that wound, it had been the worst injury he had ever received in his life by far. He did find some comfort from it, however. He was confident that he would never be in that much pain ever again.
At the present, he was having second thoughts about that belief. Or rather, he would have had those thoughts, had his mind not been so preoccupied on the trauma his body was undergoing.
Bronze Star was currently in his bedchamber at Canterlot Castle.
He was lying flat on his back in the center of the room. His maroon mane was somewhat disheveled and soaked with sweat, and his silver irises were almost concealed by his twitching eyelids.
It was the night of the Grand Galloping Gala, in which ponies from all over the country came to pay homage to the Canterlot Royalty and partake in the hospitality of the capital city. Since he had been required to attend, Bronze Star had worn his regalia to the dance. He still wore it now.
His attire was simple but stately. He wore two pairs of soft shoes, a vest of velvet, a special cloak made by a friend, and a crown fit for a prince.
At this moment, his vest was in a sorry state; there were three holes in it. Those holes had been made by three projectiles of lead. The projectiles had sailed straight through his vest, but only partly through his torso. One had punctured a critical organ in his midsection. Another was caught in his abdomen, and the third was wedged in his upper chest.
Thick red blood was slowly pouring out of the three holes. His own blood. It spread over the prince's gold coat and onto the floor around him.
Standing over Bronze Star was an indigo stallion. This was Superintendent Haywood McCrank, a knighted senior member of the Intelligence Bureau, Equestria's primary resource of research and information. He was by the prince's left side.
His right side was occupied, too. On that side was a red mare. That was Lady Noble Edict, the steadfast chief of security of Equestria's most peaceful town, Ponyville.
The two of them were desperately trying to stabilize the wounded prince until help arrived. While Haywood McCrank struggled to get the bleeding to stop, Noble Edict spoke softly to him, in effort to get a verbal response out of him.
Bronze Star barely had the strength to talk. The most he could produce was a light groan of anguish. Even opening his mouth was a chore.
Moving proved to be equally laborious. With great difficulty, Bronze Star managed to turn his head to this left. He saw a light brown stallion lying on the ground nearby.
This stallion was wearing the trademark helmet and boots of the Royal Guard, but the breastplate that accompanied his suit of armor had been removed.
His chest was a dark red, completely soaked with blood that gushed from his own recently-inflicted wounds. A knife with a bloodied blade could be found near his body. He had been stabbed so many times that his chest was almost unrecognizable.
This was Lieutenant Commander Blade Bearer, a sworn protector of the Equestrian Royalty, one of the prince's closest affiliates… and the pony responsible for his current predicament.
His assassination attempt on Bronze Star's life would have succeeded, had it not been for the timely intervention of Sir Haywood McCrank. The indigo stallion had pulled the traitor away from the prince and wielded a knife over him. After nearly a hundred thrusts of Sir Haywood's knife, Blade Bearer and his treachery were put to a swift end.
While the threat against Bronze Star had been eradicated, plenty of damage had already been done. Haywood McCrank and Noble Edict were determined to undo that damage. They were not just Bronze Star's loyal subjects; they were dear friends of his, as well.
Both of them had come to the Gala in the company of the prince and three other ponies.
One of those other three – a copper stallion – was at the entrance of the bedchamber. He was Copper Hollow, Ponyville's Deputy Chief of security. A moment ago, Haywood McCrank had ordered him to go and find help.
Just as the copper stallion stepped out into the hallway, he was approached by two other ponies. They were a purple mare and an olive stallion. Those were the other two ponies that had accompanied Bronze Star to the Gala. They were his secretary Dapple Rhomb and her husband Rough Rider.
The two of them had originally been running to this place alongside Haywood McCrank, Copper Hollow, and Noble Edict. However, as the barely notable bump on Dapple Rhomb's abdomen indicated, she was almost three months pregnant. As such, she had fallen behind, and Rough Rider had been compelled to linger for his wife. That was why they had arrived later than the other three.
When they reached their destination, their eyes immediately went to two figures lying on the ground in front of the entrance. Both of them were clad in the standard light gold armor of the Royal Guard as well. One of them had a spear sticking out of his throat. The other had another spear protruding from his lower chest.
Their names were Stone Cracker and Hammer Shaft. They were two of the longest-serving active officers of the Castle Guard. Unlike the traitor Blade Bearer, the two of them had honored their oaths. They had paid for their loyalty with their lives. Blade Bearer had brutally murdered them when his hostile intentions had been revealed.
"What the Tartarus happened here?" Rough Rider muttered in astonishment.
"Well, I just got here a minute ago," Copper Hollow disclosed, "But from the look of things, Blade Bearer turned his coat. He did this."
"But why?" Dapple Rhomb asked in shock.
"Because any true officer of the Royal Guard would have willingly died defending a member of the Canterlot Royalty," Noble Edict perceived, looking towards the door.
Rough Rider raised an eyebrow and inquired "What does she mean?"
"Blade Bearer tried to kill the prince," Haywood McCrank called over his shoulder.
Dapple Rhomb and Rough Rider seemed to pale at those words.
"Don't worry," Copper Hollow assured them with a note of malice, "He didn't succeed. Sir Haywood killed the bastard. Put a knife in his gut about six dozen times."
"Enough talk!" Haywood McCrank barked impatiently, "Copper, I thought I told you to get help!"
"Alright, alright!" the copper stallion coincided, holding up his left front hoof, "Who should I get?"
"Anypony you can find!" Haywood McCrank proclaimed.
"Ideally, a doctor and some of the Royal Guard!" Noble Edict clarified.
"Okay," Copper Hollow avowed, "I'll see if I can find Captain Shining Armor and the Surgeon General. I'll be back as soon as I do!"
With that, the copper stallion turned away from the double doors to Bronze Star's bedroom and galloped back in the direction he came.
As soon as Copper Hollow disappeared around the corner, Rough Rider and Dapple Rhomb hastily entered the bedchamber. They tentatively approached Noble Edict and Haywood McCrank, who were still crouched by the sides of the wounded gold stallion.
Dapple Rhomb was horrified when she saw what had been done to Bronze Star, whereas Rough Rider could only frown in despair. Noble Edict seemed equally glum, but Haywood McCrank was determined not to lose faith.
"I think I can keep the prince conscious," the indigo stallion professed, gazing around at the companions, "I need you three to check out the others. Hopefully he left one of them alive."
By "others," he was referring to three more ponies that were in that room at that time.
A shamrock stallion was lying by the bed. He had a huge abrasion on his forehead, and his throat had a long, deep incision in the center of it.
A russet stallion was lying by the desk. He had two openings in his body. One was in the side of his neck; the other was much larger and in his chest.
A glaucous stallion was slouching against a table near the balcony. His right front hoof was lying on the top of the table. It had been impaled by a knife. The blade of said knife was wedged in the surface of the table.
Before Blade Bearer came in, Bronze Star had sparred with those three stallions. Their goal had been the same as Blade Bearer's, but their attempts had been far less successful. Their current conditions were the results of his victory over them.
Rough Rider went over to the russet stallion, Dapple Rhomb went over to the shamrock stallion, and Noble Edict went over to the glaucous stallion. They proceeded to examine them for pulses, heartbeats, or signs of breathing.
"Billow Health is dead," Rough Rider announced.
"So is Cashew Lane," Dapple Rhomb declared.
Noble Edict lifted up the glaucous stallion's head and opened one of his eyes. Then she placed her ear against his chest and listened closely. A moment later, she revealed to the others "Sir Verse A. Till is still alive."
"Good," Haywood McCrank murmured, "Make sure he stays that way. We're going to need him for interrogation later on."
"I'll do what I can," Noble Edict stated, turning her attention to the knife in the glaucous stallion's hoof, "He's lost a lot of blood, though."
"I don't care," Haywood McCrank sharply retorted, "Until he's been questioned, his survival is of paramount importance."
"I understand, Sir Haywood," Noble Edict asserted, "Rough, Dapple, give me a hoof with this."
As the olive stallion and the purple mare assisted the red mare with the passed out Verse A. Till, Haywood McCrank kept doing what he could to keep Bronze Star conscious.
He slowly lifted the gold stallion's head and held him up by the back of it with his right front hoof. With his left front hoof, he gently rubbed Bronze Star's temple. He knew full well that this gesture would only provide a trivial – almost insignificant – amount of relief to the prince, but it was all Sir Haywood could do to comfort him.
There were no lights on in Bronze Star's bedroom. Its only source of illumination was provided by the lamps and candles in the adjoining hallway. Some of that light had been cast upon Bronze Star and Haywood McCrank.
Right then, most of that light vanished when a shadow passed over the two stallions. Haywood McCrank promptly looked up and saw a tall palomino Pegasus stallion standing in the doorframe.
That was Lord Bellerophon, Canterlot Castle's chief of staff. He was well-known for being in total control of his mannerisms and actions. He was generally a very stoic individual, and he rarely became emotionally invested in anything. Basically, he was perhaps the one pony who could always remain calm and levelheaded in any dilemma.
So the expression of absolute shock and terror he presently wore on his face was not only irregular; it was downright unsettling.
"What…" he mumbled quietly. That was all he could say. After that, he just stared at Bronze Star, completely flabbergasted.
"My lord?" Haywood McCrank uttered softly in concern.
The palomino stallion did not respond. He was fixated by the sight of the injured prince. Bronze Star was the son of the mare he had sworn to serve. By extension, he had also sworn to serve the gold stallion, and he had never failed him before.
"My lord!" Haywood McCrank yelled.
That seemed to snap Bellerophon out of his reverie. He looked to the indigo stallion and said "Yes?"
"Are you with us, my lord?" Sir Haywood asked rhetocially, "We need you with us."
"I'm… with you, Sir Haywood," Lord Bellerophon remarked uneasily, "Princess Luna sent me. She claimed she felt some form of disturbance here."
"She told you true," Haywood disclosed, "Copper Hollow went for aid. He should be back at any time. We're just waiting for him to return."
"Alright," Bellerophon acknowledged, composing himself, "You continue waiting for him here. I must go now."
As the palomino Pegasus started to turn away, Noble Edict inquired curiously "Go where, my lord?"
"To find Princess Celestia," Lord Bellerophon grimly specified, "She needs to be informed that her son is now fighting for his life."