The Crown of Night

by Daedalus Aegle

Chapter 11: Labyrinth, Act One (Everhold Slice Of Life)

It was raining in Canterlot that day, and there would be thunder and lightning that night. All as scheduled on the weather plan.

It was heavy rain that turned the white city grey, and formed little rivers in the streets, and the magic glow of the streetlights reflected on the surface of the water, making the city look like a very different place.

Twilight Sparkle had seen many days like this as a foal in the city, staring out the window and wondering why the Pegasi couldn’t keep it sunny every day, instead of only most days. But she had learned why it was necessary, eventually, and much more recently she even thought she could finally recognize the beauty of it.

Twilight took one look behind her at the city in the rain before she passed through the gates of the palace on her way to meet her old teacher.

She found Celestia in the stained glass hall, where the elder alicorn stood watching the rain patter against the images as she waited. Twilight thought she knew the images well, but like the city, the rain changed their character significantly, shading the colors in a way she’d never seen before. Celestia turned as Twilight entered, and her face lit up. “Twilight!” She bent down and swept a wing around the smaller alicorn in an embrace. “It’s so good to see you again. How have you been?”

“I’m fine thanks, Princess Celestia,” Twilight said, returning the hug. “I got your letter and came here as soon as I could.”

Celestia chuckled. “It was just a general invitation, Twilight. There’s no need to drop anything, it could wait for another time.”

“It was no trouble at all,” Twilight insisted. “And honestly… I had almost given up hope that you’d ever offer to continue telling me this story.”

Celestia chuckled. “You only had to ask, Twilight.”

“I couldn’t do that!” Twilight said, a look of shock briefly flashing across her face before vanishing. “I mean… No offense, Princess, but much as I want to hear more, this story sometimes seems awfully personal for you.”

Celestia looked ahead for a moment, lost in silence. “Yes,” she said. “I suppose so.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, forgive an old mare her reminiscences. Where did we leave off last time?”

“Star Swirl had just come back from Saddle Arabia,” Twilight reminded her. “He had brought back with him the theory of the Amniomorphic Spell.”

“Ah yes, that’s right. But bigger things were happening in the world, if you can believe it.”

Celestia led her not to the main door to her private chambers, but to a side door she couldn’t immediately recall ever passing through, which led to a bare passage where historical artifacts stood on display, like a little museum lining the hall. Celestia wandered along until she paused at one display, and looked at it.

There were two helmets, side by side, facing forward. One was shaped for a pony and one for a griffon, and the plaque underneath read simply “Pegasus and Griffon Helmets from the Final Griffon War.”

The pony helmet was a smoothly polished dome topped with a crest of hair, with little caps shaped like wings for the ears and a thick cloth strap along the bottom. The griffon helmet was larger, and very ornate, made of thick bands of metal woven together in an elaborate pattern, with no ear holes, and a beak instead of a muzzle, and the metal glittered like gold in the light.

“The Great Griffon War was drawing to a close,” Celestia said, quietly, as if she was still unsure about some question of it, after all these years. “Many years of bloodshed, and so many lives lost, for no reason that anypony could even understand. We had finally gotten the griffons to agree to peace talks, and I did not want Star Swirl anywhere near them. I wanted to be certain that nothing would go wrong.”

She studied the two items, deep in thought. “Little did I know I had already allowed the sickness within our very walls.”

Celestia fell silent. She turned away from the two helmets, and her gaze fell on a third, much larger one that stood on a separate display. One of black metal, with long and curved horns.

“Do you know the story of the founding of Knossox, Twilight?” Celestia eventually said. “The Bull King Tauros, a great warrior and conqueror of many nations, proclaimed that as a show of his power and his dedication to his gods he would make a great offering such that all who saw it would be amazed. He called to the heavens for a sign, and from out of the waves emerged a creature unlike any his subjects had seen. A towering figure that walked on two legs, sleek and strong and radiant… The king’s sages told him that the gods smiled upon him, that this creature would make a worthy sacrifice. But, when he saw it, the great king’s heart was filled with greed. He wanted to keep the creature for himself, and offered up the strongest animals of his stables instead. But his gods did not accept his bribe, and punished him for his faithlessness.

“In the end his kingdom fell to ruin. And in the place he ruled something new had come into being, and the world would never be the same.

“It was called the Labyrinth.”

– – –

Labyrinth
Act One

The White Knight looked over his weapons. His chambers were lined with them: swords and knives and spears, their blades shining bright in the morning sun that fell through the window of his quarters.

He stood in the light, and perhaps he felt it warm him beneath his ornate silver armor that covered his body entirely. Beneath his helmet a veil concealed even his eyes from any onlooker. The polished metal was engraved with finely shaped lines and patterns, and draped with white cloth, ceremonial and august. His every step seemed purposeful and calculated, and as he moved he cast not a shadow but a kaleidoscopic geometry of light.

“War is a strange thing, is it not?” The White Knight asked.

The other occupant of his chamber said nothing.

“I have traveled the width and breadth of the lands of ponies,” he continued. “I have stood upon her towers and walked along her borders. I have seen her palaces and listened to her leaders talk of their strength, pretty dreams wrapped in pretty words masquerading as strategy. And there is one thing I have learned.”

He turned to face his companion, and she felt the weight of his gaze fall upon her, and she tried to sit up straight and not tremble.

“I have learned that what binds us together can shackle us,” the White Knight said. “That the things that hold us up can weigh us down. I have seen how the comforts and promises of peace can be a cage.”

His companion flinched at the mention of cages.

“War is the great liberator,” the White Knight said slowly, reverently. “It rips apart the bonds that bind us. It burns away our illusions of strength and resilience, and shows us what we are truly made of… and it sets us free to do what we wish. It demands only one thing of us. It demands that we survive.”

The other fidgeted nervously in her personal space, her ears standing at high alert. “I don’t know anything about war,” she said. “I just want them to be safe.”

The White Knight drew a deep, slow breath, and it was possible, perhaps, to imagine that underneath the silver helmet and the silken white fabric that shrouded his face, there was a smile. “Of course you do. You are a good soul. We must all choose a side, and you… You have chosen the side of the light. And you and I are going to set Everhold free.”

He opened his cabinet, and took out a small silver chest. It glittered in the sunlight that fell through the open curtains, and from it he drew a glass vial and a metal disc, like a badge, or a coin.

The White Knight had never seen a weapon he didn’t know how to use.

“These are for you,” he said to her. “You know what to do.”

– – –

The Royal Guards of Everhold famously showed no emotion, or indeed acknowledged anything short of an attack while they stood on guard, but inwardly the two ponies groaned with annoyance at the post they had drawn that night.

They stood watch by the door to the Observatory Tower, the domain of the Royal Astronomer, and that post had quickly gained a reputation since the Saddle Arabia incident.

From within there were constant sounds of the unearthly, the inequine, and the unholy. Sometimes there were explosions. Sometimes there was cackling. Sometimes there were screams. The guards were specifically instructed to ignore all of the above.

One guard glanced back at the door uncertainly. “What do you think he’s doing in there?”

“Shut up, or we’ll get double shifts,” the other growled.

There was the sound of hoofsteps from up a spiral stairwell nearby, and Princess Luna came into sight. The guards stood at attention and saluted her as she passed through the door, and closed it behind her.

She sighed, having pretended not to hear their muttering, and pushed it out of mind.

She looked ahead, and found Star Swirl within the laboratory-apartments at the bottom at the tower. He was staring at a softly-glowing orb of magic that encompassed his hoof, which he held up under a large magnifying lens. She halted and stood watching in silence, wondering what experiment was in play for a moment. Then her face contorted in shock as before her eyes his hoof morphed, and split, grotesquely, into a thin, flat base with five branching digits emerging from it. Each digit spread out apart from the others, and moved as if of their own accord. They curled inwards towards the base, and flexed out straight, freakishly flexible, and at the tip of each was a little hard plate, the remnants of the wall of his hoof.

She was about to scream, but felt a knot choke in the back of her throat and by the time it passed she realized he did not seem to be in pain, and in truth was studying the workings of this twisted mockery of a limb with interest.

“Hrmph…” He shook his head. “I just can't see any practical use for it.” He looked up and noticed her watching for the first time, and he beamed. “Princess, come in! Let me show you what I’m working on.”

The light shifted, his horn shot a beam of magic through the lens, and after a few tense moments he withdrew his leg to show his hoof, as perfectly ordinary as nature intended. He grinned excitedly and bowed.

“You seem to be immersed in your labors,” Luna said weakly.

“I’m experimenting with the Amniomorphic Spell,” Star Swirl said. “I’ve figured out how to turn my nerve endings on and off at will. While they’re off I can reshape parts of my own body. I don’t feel a thing!”

“That is… fascinating,” Luna said diplomatically. “But also very unsettling. Please be careful, Star Swirl. You would not want to do something you cannot undo.”

“I’m making great progress,” Star Swirl said confidently. “It’s nothing to worry about. Every week it gets easier. I can do great things.” He glanced back towards the door and his grin melted away to a frown. “Forget the guards. I don’t need any test subjects other than myself. I will do great things.” He seemed to forget himself for a moment before returning to earth. “But I’m rambling. Please, come in! What brings you here to my domain?”

“Nothing really,” Luna lied. She looked around as the unicorn led her further in, and got her first proper look at the place since he had moved in. “I just wanted to say hello. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t found time to speak with you in months.”

“Has it really been so long?”

“Not since the pardon,” Luna said. There was a brief, but awkward silence before she cleared her throat, and continued. “How are your new apartments? You’re making yourself at home, I trust”

The Royal Astronomer’s apartments sat at the base of the observatory tower, with the living quarters on one side and a laboratory on the other, and the spiral staircase in the back leading up to the tower itself, one of the highest points of the palace.

It was also a mess. Every spare surface in the laboratory was taken up by some project or other, most of them half-finished and possibly forgotten. There were chalkboards covered with magic circles and equations in many different colors of chalk, as well as piles of books and scrolls of parchment stacked everywhere. In one far corner was a chart showing different styles of facial hair, with many arrows and question marks scrawled on it.

“It’s magnificent,” he said, breathily. “Nopony in Edinspur would believe it, if they could see me now. No doubt they thought I’d die in a ditch somewhere, when I left. The guards complain, they call me mad, but never mind them, see this laboratory! These instruments! I didn’t know lenses could do some of these things! Back at the university the oculoscopes were a hundred years old and running on low-wave enchantments. But this!” He looked around him, at the star charts and the instruments, and up to the telescope on the higher level. He grinned. “It’s amazing. With this, I can wrest the secrets from the night sky itself!”

“You can always just ask, you know,” Luna said.

She thought she saw him blush, for just a moment, before he moved along.

Star Swirl led her on a path between various wonders and to a nearby table, which he quickly emptied of the open books that lay on it. “Come, look at this.” He poured a cup of coffee, and held it up for her expectantly.

Luna looked, and gasped softly. The coffee was black, but there convention ended: it was the black of the sky at night, deep and vast, and the light that reflected in it looked like points of starlight. “It’s beautiful.”

Star Swirl grinned. “I call it Midnight Coffee. I made the enchantment myself. Please, try some!”

He held out the cup for her and she accepted it, and sat down in a chair that was more comfortable than her throne, and slumped back. She took a sip, felt the taste of coffee fill her mouth, and sighed.

“Thank you… What are you working on?” She asked, and for the next ten minutes she was quiet, listening and relaxing as Star Swirl let loose about his discoveries with the excitement of a foal with a new toy. She leaned back in her chair, and even the feeling of the simple cushion pressing against her back was new and interesting, and for a while she did not feel worry, or fear. She listened, and sometimes laughed at the huge grin on his face and the starry sparkle in his eyes, and politely added an “Is that right?” when the rhythm called for it, until finally her cup was empty and she put it down with a regretful look.

She leaned back in the chair, sinking into the thick cushion. She glanced towards the exit. It seemed very far away, but she knew it was not. “This is nice,” she said. “It feels good to shut the troubles of the world out, at the door… if only for a little while.”

He blinked, and looked at her curiously. “Is everything alright?”

She hesitated, and let out a breath. “I am only exhausted… My sister and I had a meeting, before I came here, to discuss the diplomatic summit. There is so much to be done. So many things to consider, and so many high hopes that could be dashed… And it wearies me.”

His face hardened. “Horse apples,” he muttered under his breath. “Of course you’re exhausted. I’m supposed to be your adviser, but while you’ve been out working to keep Everhold running I’ve been holed up here doing research, and not been any help to you at all.”

Luna blinked, her train of thought suddenly staggered. “That… I appreciate that,” she said softly. “It’s… nice… of you to care. But please don’t let it bother you. Besides, my sister wishes to keep the ponies involved in the discussions at a minimum. Even though rumors fly faster than griffons, and it seems the court hardly speaks of anything else lately. I’m sure you’ve heard all about it.”

He was silent for a moment, glancing towards his telescope. “I’ve been avoiding it,” he admitted. “I sort of figured that if anypony wanted my opinion, or wanted me to do anything, they would ask. And since nopony did… I went on with my own work instead.”

“I think my sister appreciates that, honestly,” Luna said sadly.

He nodded, reluctantly. “Yeah. Do you want to talk about it? I’ll listen if that helps.”

“Indeed?” Luna raised an eyebrow with feigned surprise, and a playful smile. “The word around Court is that the Royal Astronomer listens to nopony.”

“If it’s you, I will permit it,” Star Swirl said. He poured himself a fresh cup of coffee, and after a moment’s thought, poured one for her as well. “At least you and your sister pushed King Blaze to come to the table. That’s a good start.”

Luna said nothing while her sister droned on about their arrangements, and remembered Griffon King Blaze.

Luna still remembered the Day of the Dragons, when she fought side by side with the young warrior who would unite the fractious peoples of the mountain peaks under one banner, and one crown.

She remembered the uncertain pact they had brokered in the shadows, so far from home, in a crumbling hovel. How it had only been the two of them, alone in that hostile land, with only their word.

She remembered the haze of doubt her own soldiers had carried upon the morrow as they flew into open skies above the spearing fields, exposed and vulnerable, and how relieved they were when the birds held their fire as they took their position before the Aerie.

She remembered the long day that followed under the burning skies while they held their ground, together. And the joy they had felt when the sun finally set, and the dragons’ breath fell silent, made it seem, at long last, that anything was possible.

There must be a poison in history, Luna decided, that they could go from that to this.

“We received word from the Griffon King’s ambassador,” Luna said glumly. “She will come. But she is bringing her own retinue of guards.”

Star Swirl thought about this for a moment. “And that’s bad?”

“It’s complicated,” Luna said. “It is customary among equals to not bring one’s own guards into another’s court. The rules of diplomacy charge us to protect and respect the freedom of any emissary, even your most hated enemy. By bringing her own guards into Everhold the ambassador is signaling her lack of faith in these talks.”

Star Swirl pursed his lip. “That doesn’t seem like a great starting point,” he admitted.

“Indeed not. And security is what has been weighing on my mind.” She stared down into the shimmering lights in her cup, as if trying to glean hints of the future from their constellations. “There is a griffon spy in the dungeons. Oh, we caught her before she could do anything – she was not even trying to conceal herself, and we don’t know what she hoped to achieve… There will be a Triumph soon, a great feast in honor of an officer who fought heroically, and though Celestia does not see it, I worry that this can only complicate the peace talks. I have been poring over Everhold’s security for days and nights on end, and I cannot shake the feeling that I am missing something… The Shadowbolts will be watching over the summit. My elite guards. The finest warriors and intelligencers in all the lands of ponies. But my sister doesn’t trust them, because…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know why. She just doesn’t. She has her own ideas.”

“What even goes into these talks?” Star Swirl asked. “What’s there to argue about?”

“A great deal, though most of it is left to my sister’s bureaucrats. Still, there are major points that remain. At the heart of it sits the contested city of…” Luna sighed. “Even the name of the city is a problem. What’s in a word, Star Swirl? A great deal, as it turns out. We call the city Stalliongrad. The Griffons call it Falcongrad. If we use our name we insult them, and vice versa. But if we use theirs we show weakness, and risk jeopardizing our position. So we talk around things. We never address them directly. Publicly we seem to make peace for the love of peace, while privately…”

“It’s like the Sphinx all over again,” Star Swirl grumbled. “Is it all displays and sleight of hoof? This almost sounds like a magic show for foals, not a negotiation.”

“It often seems that way to me,” Luna said quietly. “We have an audience: the world is watching us. We must perform diplomacy, rather than commit it, to put on appearances… Celestia is better at this than I am. She does not care that there are always ponies watching her.”

Star Swirl frowned. “Who cares what they think? You’re the Princess of the Night.”

“It is sweet of you to say so, but even we are not untouchable.” She looked down into the black, shimmering fluid in her cup, and watched it swirl. “Ponies are always watching. Make one single mistake, and the whispers start to flow. There is always somepony else who thinks they could do better.”

She put her cup down, and there was silence for a moment. Luna stood up and stretched her back, regretfully. “Well… Time is passing. I suppose I should get back to work. It was good to see you again, Star Swirl.”

The young stallion sat deep in thought, looking at nothing. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Sorry I can’t help. I know I made a mess of things the last time I tried diplomacy.”

Luna hesitated. She cast a look at her student in his strange robes, covered in symbols of night-time, and remembered a taste of prophecy.

“We have not yet seen the full accounting of what happened in Saddle Arabia,” she said. “Do not be so hard on yourself. Your spell is remarkable. Perhaps it was meant to be thus.”

He said nothing in response. She looked around the chamber, with its gadgets and its charts. “Ever since you came back from abroad you’ve been cooped up in here.”

He looked up at her, and blinked. “It’s a marvelous laboratory. And… I think everypony prefers it if I stay here.”

“You have never been the sort to worry about what others think of you,” Luna said. “You should go out there, Star Swirl. You should get to know Everhold, get to know the Court. Learn what it’s like… And it would help us, I think, if they got to know you.”

“Oh.” He grunted reluctantly. “If that’s your wish, Princess. I’ll try.”

Luna gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s not all terrible, my good astronomer. Go to one of the dinner parties, I know you get invited even if they don’t expect you to appear. Enjoy the entertainment. One of these days you should go say hello to the royal gardener, she’s a friendly pony. You might appreciate her commitment to her craft. It almost rivals yours.”

“Well… I am running low on some herbal reagents.”

“It shouldn’t be all work, Star Swirl,” Luna said. She looked at him uncertainly, like a mother sending her foal to school for the first time. “Try to be on your best behavior. For me?”

“I…” He looked uncertain, and unhappy, and he tried to conceal it when he looked at her eyes. He nodded. “Yes, your highness.”

– – –

So it was that the next evening found Star Swirl attending his first Everhold dinner party.

There were at that time three upcoming events for him to choose between. The invitations had all been delivered to his apartments in very expensive-looking envelopes and written in fine calligraphy on large cream-colored sheets that, to his eyes trained at the university, looked more than anything else like a colossal waste of good ink and paper. They all announced the station of the host and promised an evening unlike any other, and they all requested the presence of the Royal Astronomer because the Royal Astronomer was an official of the Court, and no other reason.

Knowing no difference between them he picked, at random, the one with the gold thread running around the edge of the paper. And when the scheduled time came he put on his robes and set out through the halls of the castle to the appointed location.

The event – all three of the invitations shared this – was to take place in the Solar Wing, a place Star Swirl had not had any occasion to visit until then. It was in the part of the palace that was open to the public, where visitors and guests and petitioners would wander and admire. And as Star Swirl had spent most of his time in the below and behind the scenes where the staff kept the palace running, he was not quite sure what to do when he arrived at the Sunrise Gate to present himself with his invitation.

He stood around for a bit, as ponies in fine evening wear passed by going to and fro and while royal guards stood impassively by the walls, before he decided to look for the correct room within, and stepped through the gate.

It certainly was extremely solar: the walls and floors were all coated in smooth bright marble, a sharp contrast from the neutral grey of the palace general, all whites and golds and occasional reds, as well as draperies and carpets in the softer tones of the Princess’s aurora-like mane. Suns and daylight-themed ornamentation and decoration was everywhere, and Star Swirl’s dark blue robe made him stand out sharply everywhere he stood.

The white marble vista was also broken up by a large art collection. Each piece was accompanied by a little sign showing who had created it, and which generous patron had donated it to the palace. As Star Swirl followed the servant he passed a plinth atop which stood a golden statue of the allegorical figure of athleticism, Pteronika: a pegasus reaching upward, her entire body and her wings stretched out, raising, or throwing, or seizing a sphere that also looked very much like a sun.

After a minute of aimless wandering he heard somepony behind him. “I say, you must be – you’re the astronomer?”

Star Swirl turned to see a stallion in a very dapper jacket looking at him curiously. He nodded.

The stallion beamed. “Oh, welcome! Please, come join us.” He led Star Swirl through the art gallery. “I didn’t know if you were coming,” his host said amiably. “We are dining in the Glasswing Chamber. It was furnished by the Diamond Doge himself you know. Some ponies wait many months for a chance to see it.”

The stallion led Star Swirl through a door to a dining chamber that indeed richly and artfully decorated from floor to ceiling, giving the impression of walking through a Reneighssance painting. There were already drinks served at the table, and a few other guests were already there, chatting among themselves, with one richly dressed lady speaking in theatrical tones and gesturing evocatively with her wings as her audience chortled. Another sat at her seat by herself, a yellow earth pony mare in a relatively simple green dress who seemed deep in thought, and she glanced up at the newcomer as he entered.

Star Swirl however found his eyes pulled upward. Above the dining table, one wall of the chamber was fully dominated by an enormous portrait of Celestia herself.

The host followed his eyes, and nodded. “Magnificent, isn’t it?” he said with a grin, and Star Swirl nodded. “It depicts the first sunrise after Discord’s defeat, and the promise of a bright future for all ponykind.”

It did indeed depict that. The princess gazed out across the landscape with a face of wisdom and serenity, while the sun rose above the mountains in the distance. Below, and small and insignificant by comparison in the middle-distance towards the edge of the canvas, was a shape that was only indistinctly recognizable as Discord enstoned.

“Why isn’t Princess Luna in it?” Star Swirl asked. “Is there a matching painting in the Lunar wing?”

“Possibly,” the host said, before moving on to greet his next guest.

More ponies arrived, ponies Star Swirl had never met who all seemed to know each other judging from their interactions, and he was introduced to a great many of them in a very short span of time, and then a bell rang and he was led to his seat at the furthest quarter of the table as the first item was served.

Star Swirl looked at the bowl of flower-scented water that had been placed before him. “And this is… soap?”

“It’s all the fashion in Prance,” the host said from behind him as he trotted by. “It was shipped all the way from Mareseilles!”

The other ponies washed their hooves and dried them on little towels, and Star Swirl attempted the same. “You know, in Saddle Arabia the Bedouin camels wash by bathing in sand, and brushing it off to clear away the sweat and grime.”

The lady sitting opposite him raised a finely painted eyebrow archly. “How… fascinating.”

The food came in multiple small servings at a rapid pace, and though Star Swirl never had any idea what was happening, and found that there were limits to how much he wished to be surprised by his food, he nonetheless had to admit that the meal was pleasing to at least three senses. In addition to taste and smell the main course was also arranged on his plate in the form of an image of a flowery coastal landscape, which he felt rather odd dismantling and devouring. But it tasted good nonetheless.

After the meal conversation, never entirely dead, rose up again, mostly talk about what other ponies Star Swirl did not know had said, or done, or would do. But inevitably the topic turned to the event that was on everypony’s mind.

“I say, sir astronomer,” a jovial voice said from a few seats down, “we were discussing the peace talks, just taking the temperature, so to speak, and so far the table seems to be evenly divided between ‘for’ and ‘against’.”

“You are the Princesses’ royal astronomer, are you not?” one of the other guests asked, slurring slightly over a glass of wine. “Have you checked what the stars foretell for the meeting?”

Star Swirl was silent for a moment. “The stars are watching us closely, and they are worried,” Star Swirl said. “They do not always speak clearly. And they do not always care about the same things ponies do. I don’t know if the stars understand the idea of war.”

“So any chance they’ll let us know who will win the races next week?”

Star Swirl did not let out a growl of frustration. “The stars know a great deal about the future. But the position of stars and planets isn’t advice for what to put in your salad tomorrow,” Star Swirl said testily. “They see the world very differently from how we do. They care about things in ways most ponies cannot comprehend. You don’t ask them simple questions, you work to understand their way of thinking and you gain knowledge… I have made tremendous discoveries from exploring the stars. The secret knowledge of the cosmos is written in the night sky, and Princess Luna has given me the tools I need to bring that knowledge down to earth.”

“But how can you think that you will learn things in the dark?” an old unicorn mare, whose hint of condescension was purely habitual, asked sincerely. “Discoveries only emerge in the light, that’s why they call it enlightenment. Why, as one pony recently told me, physical, mental, and spiritual darkness are all the same thing.”

Other ponies nearby nodded and mumbled their agreement.

Star Swirl tried to be neutral and not glower, and failed. “And who was that?”

“Oh! A most intriguing stallion,” she said, oblivious to his glower. “A Cavalier, he was… I didn’t catch his name, but he cut a striking figure. It was at the home of the Diamond Doge, we’re good friends you know, and the Doge himself was so impressed with him that they spoke together at length, and the entire company could not but stand and listen. He spoke with such passion and conviction! He said that he always distrusted things that lurk in the dark and he was never disappointed. He said he was pleased that at least his enemies faced him in the day as honest ponies, and he would rather trust an enemy in the light than a friend in the dark. He was the toast of the company.”

“Such a shame he had to leave early,” another pony said, and there were nods of agreement running down the table, and the conversation continued as each pony related where they had been, and who they had spoken to.

Star Swirl remained silent until the meal was over. And when the table was cleared he left, deep in thought, having been to his first social engagement, and set out for home.

– – –

In Princess Luna’s private office, two blue ponies sat across the table from each other, one waiting, the other reading.

“Proposal for a change in the laws of road management and the construction of a highway, brought by Margrave Baron Whiteblood the 14th, and the Diamond Doge of Veneighzia,” Luna read from the cover letter. She looked at the young unicorn stallion who sat quietly before her, looking patiently respectful. “Baron. Thank you for coming.”

“Your majesty. I am honored for the invitation.”

“This is only a formality,” Princess Luna said to Blue Horn, one of the youngest and most recent arrivals to the court. “I have read your proposal. I only wish to ask you a few questions.”

Blue Horn sat in awkward patience, and made a weak laugh. “I will do my best to answer. What do you want to know?”

“What is it you hope to achieve, Blue Horn?”

If he noticed her use of his birth name he gave no sign of it. “This plan will streamline travel and transport between Whinnienna and Veneighzia, and enrich both cities and their surrounding regions.”

Luna looked down at the thick legalese print. “It is quite polished. Specific, thorough, well-informed about the details. Not bad, for someone so new to the court. And the Diamond Doge is a busy pony. You must have worked hard to catch his eye.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“And I understand you were a student at my academy of magic. So in addition to an arcane education you understand the language of court policy, which is no mean feat. I gather you didn’t learn it from your predecessor.”

Blue Horn shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “No, your majesty.”

Luna nodded. “I knew your father, you know,” Luna said suddenly, putting the leather binder aside. “I suppose that’s hardly surprising. He was an influential figure in the court.”

Blue Horn tilted his head, maintaining a respectful mien. “Yes. He was.”

“I did not like your father,” Luna said. “In fact I found him quite viscerally repulsive.”

Blue Horn blinked. “Yes,” he said again. “He was.”

“I want him at the ceremony,” Celestia said.

“I don’t,” Luna replied.

“It will have great symbolic weight. His father led the war, the son makes peace. It will signal the closing of the chapter. The historians will love it.”

“His father was loathsome,” Luna said. “And I do not trust the son. It’s a strange coincidence that he just happens to show up just now, when this treaty is perched on the knife’s edge, don’t you think? And my dreamwalks have been ominous of late, and full of worry. No, sister. I don’t like it, and I don’t like him. I can’t believe that you’re inviting more risks into this, don’t we have enough already?”

Celestia sighed. “You haven’t even met him, Lulu.”

“Do you know, the last time your father came to me he wanted my support to start a war. Now here you are just as we are trying to end one.” She watched him idly for a second as he pondered how to respond to this, visibly uncomfortable. “You look like him, you know.”

“I do not,” the young blue unicorn blurted out, a sudden sharp edge in his voice. “Is that a joke?”

“Well, of course not in the obvious things,” Luna said, waving a hoof. “It’s in the shape of your chin, the pattern in your irises, the way you tilt your head as you speak, the way your lips move when you want to sneer but you’re forcing yourself to smile instead. See, you’re doing it right now.”

His face turned neutral, and resentful.

“So often when ponies want me to sign off on something it is because they want to use me,” Luna said, “And I see that you are full of anger, Blue Horn. But it is not directed at me. That is refreshing, and in its own way, unsettling. Allow me to ask again. What is that you hope to achieve?”

“Everything,” he said. He twitched, and looked her in the eyes, and she saw the fire burning inside. “You’re right, your highness, I’m not here for selfless reasons. I’m going to be greater than my father. I’m going to be everything he was and more. And I’ll do what it takes to succeed.”

Luna maintained a neutral face. “And this proposal?”

“The Diamond Doge thinks I’m young and stupid,” Blue Horn said. “He thinks this deal will profit him at my expense. He’s wrong. I’m going to overcome them all. I’m going to be greater than my father ever was. And if anypony, or any creature, stands in my way then I’m going to destroy them. Is that honest enough for you, Princess?”

Luna looked in his eyes and saw that he was utterly committed to every word, and did not care if she knew, and Luna saw another similarity to his father.

“I see,” she said. “That will be all, Baron. Thank you for your time.”

– – –

Star Swirl slunk homewards through the lower halls of the palace, pondering the memory like picking at an open sore. “Meet the ponies,” he muttered to himself. “See what it’s like… Be on your best behavior.” He sighed. “Strangers are hard. I wish there was somepony I could talk to about magic, at least that would be interesting.”

He passed another unicorn in the hallway, and reflexively nodded at him. The other unicorn did the same. Then they continued trotting for a few seconds before they both slowed, and turned to look at each other.

It was Star Swirl who broke the silence. “Blue Horn?” He asked. “Is that you?”

“Star Swirl,” the other pony replied. His voice was not friendly. “I haven’t seen you since—”

“Since Cambridle,” Star Swirl said.

Star Swirl looked at the pony in front of him. He recognized him, somewhat. The boyish voice that was more brash than deep, but with a depth of bitterness that sounded like it belonged to a pony twenty years older. The face of somepony with too much to prove.

“...Since you were expelled,” Blue Horn finished.

Star Swirl face turned to stone. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course not.” Blue Horn looked over Star Swirl briefly and Star Swirl saw a hint of amusement flicker across his face and disappear. “What are you doing here? Trying out for court jester?”

Star Swirl’s jaw clenched. “Princess Luna made me her royal astronomer,” he said.

Blue Horn glanced away. “Of course she did,” he said under his breath. He looked back to Star Swirl. “Just like before, eh? We saw how well that worked.”

Star Swirl’s eyes narrowed to a glare. “I thrived at Cambridle, in spite of the professors, because I understood magic like nopony else.”

“And nopony else understood you at all, because you can’t contain your brilliance in words other ponies can read,” Blue Horn said flatly. “And then you were shocked to get bad grades.”

Star Swirl tensed up tighter, and drew a slow breath. “I remember your work as well, you know. I always thought you’d become a necromancer, since your papers were graveyards where good ideas went to die, and where decayed scholars were raised from the dead to devour the brains of the living.” He huffed. “The professors might have loved your drivel. But at least I have ability.”

Blue Horn smiled, just to show teeth. “I did the work, Star Swirl. You may have run around Cambridle with your head in the clouds but I understand these ponies in ways you never will. I’m used to spending days and nights reading olden scholars with their heads up their plots, and writing down arguments I don’t believe in pretty words while ponies climb over each other and pretend it’s about something bigger than themselves when in fact they all believe there is nothing bigger than themselves. You couldn’t function at school, Star Swirl. Do you really think you’re going to do any better here?”

Star Swirl grimaced in disdain. “Honestly? I’m thankful,” he said. “At school they thought the two of us were alike. Unicorns born from earth pony families, both come to Cambridle to study,” A jolt of discomfort flashed across Blue Horn’s face, and Star Swirl smiled inwardly. “If they weren’t so completely wrong about everything, the fact that they like you so much would worry me!” He shook his head. “So why are you in Everhold anyway? Cambridle is a long way from here.”

Blue Horn’s eyes narrowed, his teeth clenched and then relaxed as he raised his head high. “I am Baron Whiteblood,” he said gravely. “The fourteenth Baron Whiteblood, the Count of the Marches.”

“Whiteblood?” Star Swirl paused to think for a second. He knew the name, as everypony did, from the war reports that were cried out in every town and village: the pony who had kept the war alive, until it killed him. “That warmonger from the old earth pony nobility? What’s he to you?” There was a moment of silence and then it clicked. Star Swirl’s mouth fell open. “He was your—?”

“My father died without ever bothering to tell me he was my father,” Blue Horn replied bluntly. “It was only then that my mother decided to tell me I was her son, rather than an embarrassing distant nephew they had taken in out of the goodness of their hearts.” Blue Horn stepped up to a window and looked out at the spires of the castle with a wistful, ironic glare. “And so it was that after a lifetime of neglect the only thing I got from them was a title, and a portfolio of deeds and responsibilities they never saw fit to prepare me for. So now I’m here, learning to frame my face to all occasions. Does that please you, Star Swirl?”

“That’s messed up, Blue Horn,” Star Swirl said quietly. “So, what, you think now you’ve finally gotten what you deserve? That you’re going to show them all, and pay back all the insults at last?”

“That’s the strange thing, Star Swirl,” Blue Horn said. “You were born to be nothing. You’re a nobody, born nowhere, to other nobodies. But you’ve been given everything. Ludicrous magical power. A close friendship with a Princess, magical lessons, a high office in court… And none of it earned. Because for you, destiny had spoken! But me? I was supposed to be born with everything. And I had to work for all of it even so. Oh, I never had magic lessons from a princess in my dreams. I can’t call on more magical power than any other unicorn, but I struggled to read the sages and I mastered the rules of spellcraft as well as anypony. I know where the earth is beneath my hooves, and you don’t. So which one of us is the regular pony, really? Which one has risen above our roots?”

“Baron,” a pony appeared from a corner. “They’re waiting for you.”

Blue Horn nodded to the new pony and gave one last look to Star Swirl. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around again,” he said, and the mockery in his voice was unmistakable. “So long.”

– – –

“Five degrees North… thirty-two degrees East… Full extension,” Star Swirl repeated the alignment to himself as he turned the Large Telescope to the desired coordinates.

He double-checked the numbers and verified that the telescope was looking at the correct spot, its lenses carefully fixed to focus at the proper distance, and the clock showed that the time would soon be right, to witness the Snub.

“The Snub” was the name given to a peculiar astronomical event between two certain young stars: when the two intersected in their paths they would deviate slightly to give each other wide berth – and then speed up ever so slightly once they’d passed.

This was Star Swirl’s first chance to observe the event himself, at a discreet distance, and he hoped to learn more about why it happened.

Or at least he would, if not for the noise. And the fact that pegasi were flying overhead in what was supposed to be a no-fly zone and blocked his line of sight.

The Astronomy Tower, stood on the far side of Everhold Castle, away from the lights and noise of Everhold town. It was a tall, narrow tower like something out of a foal’s story book, overlooking the Royal Guard training grounds. The grounds were a wide open, empty space on which the guard occasionally performed exercises.

Overnight it had turned into a massive army camp, covered in meticulously laid-out REAF tents and thick with uniformed soldiers. There was a party happening that would not stop, and pegasus soldiers were flying drunk and perching on every available nook and cranny of the tower exterior.

“This is like the student dorm all over again,” Star Swirl muttered to himself as he descended the spiral stair from the tower and stepped out into the fresh air of the training grounds. The fresh air was actually thick with kegs of cider. “Actually, this is worse. The students couldn’t fly.”

“Hey!” He shouted at the first pony he passed, a burly stallion pegasus ferrying more kegs. “Will this go on for long?”

The stallion turned and noticed him for the first time, and chortled. “What?”

“This!” Star Swirl waved a hoof expansively around him. “When are you stopping – all this?!”

“Not until Everhold runs out of hard cider,” he answered in a deep, laid-back voice. “Or until the Triumph.”

Two drunken mares in dress uniform shambled into view from behind a tent, laughing uncontrollably at something only they could understand. Upon catching sight of Star Swirl, one turned to the other and whispered something, which made the second burst into a fresh round of laughing. “Oh, I like the horn,” the first one said. “Hey bookhorse, wanna party with a gin-wine war heroine? Betcha we can show you something you won’t learn in class.”

“My schedule is full,” Star Swirl said, taking a step back. This only seemed to amuse them more. “Look, I just need you all to stay clear of the tower!”

“But the tower’s so good!” One of them said, laughing excessively. “So many places to perch!”

“We take orders from the see-oh,” the second mare said, her calm voice belying the appearance of intoxication. “That’s not you, sweet pokes.”

Star Swirl gritted his teeth. “So who’s in charge here?”

The stallion rolled his eyes and raised a hoof skyward. “The Commander.”

Star Swirl looked up in the air, and saw a squad of pegasi flying.

Or rather, they were not just flying; that was selling them short. Half a dozen of them were moving at breakneck speeds in close formation, as one, doing aerial combat maneuvers. He could hear them roaring in the wind, moving at such speeds that left contrails in their own colors in a trail behind them.

They would come together into a single line, as if to punch through a defensive formation, then break apart and double back to tear through the rout. They would suddenly form a wall, leg-guards held out in front as a shield six ponies big, then resume flying. They would spiral upwards at erratic angles, impossible to predict yet perfectly in tune with one another. At some signal Star Swirl couldn’t identify they would explode, each soldier suddenly acting alone for a second and a half, before falling perfectly back into formation. They would go from hovering in place to full speed in the blink of an eye, flying in a straight line at one moment and shifting jagged angles seemingly without losing speed in the next.

And all across the training grounds below them pegasus soldiers looked up and whooped and hollered and cheered, saluting their officers as they passed overhead. A roar broke out as the ponies performed a particularly elaborate maneuver, spiraling overhead before dropping like spears to decimate their foes. The cry was a single word, repeated over and over with a sound like thunder:

“Hurricane! Hurricane! Hurricane! Hurricane!”

After drinking in the adoration the fliers landed straight ahead of them, a half-dozen big strong stallions and mares grinning and strutting down the walkway with confident swagger. A loud, boisterous voice said something Star Swirl couldn’t make out, and his fellows laughed and cheered and bragged.

At the front of the pack, saying nothing but smirking, secure in her strength and power, was the Captain.

The pegasus mare had a blue coat, and a prismatic mane that was cut short and rose in spikes that kept out of her eyes. She wore the flight armor of the Royal Everhold Air Force, and her legs were strapped with leather and metal.

She moved like she could kill with every step she took, and with every step her subordinates followed her without question, and they were headed right towards Star Swirl.

“Who’s this, a clown for the feast?” Hurricane asked, and her cohort chuckled. “You got a problem, bells?”

“Your troops are making a mess and interrupting my work,” Star Swirl told her, standing up straight and attempting to look implacable in the face of the army. “I’d like them to stop, at least for the next hour.”

Hurricane made a single sharp “Hah,” and trotted past him, rolling her hoof. “Live with it, bells. We work hard, we play hard.”

A mid-sized stallion at Hurricane’s side said something only she could hear, and she turned. “Is that right? You’re Princess Luna’s new pet wizard?”

Star Swirl stood up straight and looked somewhat indignant. “I am her majesty’s Royal Astronomer and adviser on magical matters, yes.”

One of the other soldiers whistled, which set them off in a fresh round of laughter. Hurricane ignored them, and watched him thoughtfully. “I know you… You’re the one who made that huge mess in Saddle Arabia.”

Star Swirl tensed up, and drew a sharp breath. “We have not yet seen the full accounting of what happened in Saddle Arabia,” he said coldly. “As for me, I neutralized a great evil that threatened their realm. I didn’t make the Khalif and the Grand Vizier turn against each other. They did that all on their own.”

“The way I hear it you made a very impressive crater.” She smirked. “Never send a wizard to do a soldier’s job. Maybe we’ll go there next! It would make a nice change to get some sun, eh, fillies?”

Star Swirl felt a heat at the base of his horn. “Don’t underestimate wizards,” he said in a low voice.

“I’m sure you make very pretty light shows,” Hurricane said. “Mayhap you can whip up some fireworks for the Triumph.”

“I don’t make fireworks,” Star Swirl said. “I plumb the heavens for answers to the deepest mysteries of the universe, answers that will change the world. But I don’t expect you to understand that.”

Hurricane’s eyes focused on him chillingly. “Do you see this?” She raised her right foreleg and displayed the item that was strapped to it, a fixture of metal and leather embossed with the REAF sigil. “Do you know what it is?”

Star Swirl looked at it. “A piece of armor.”

With a flick of her ankle there shot out a knife-blade eight inches long, accompanied by a sharp click. With another imperceptible motion it slid back into its sheath. Star Swirl flinched at the motion, and Hurricane watched it with amusement.

“It’s called a tackblade. It has ten tools and three blades, at hoof’s reach at all times.” Hurricane grinned. “Have you ever seen a pegasus soldier fight, bells? It’s the art of the direct assault. Every limb is a weapon, and every motion is a strike.”

Star Swirl glanced at the pegasi massing behind her. Their wings were lined with metal blades. Their front hooves had metal horseshoes, an old traditional aid for long-distance wanderers which also served as a weapon for trampling and stomping your opponents underhoof. Their back legs had vicious spikes fastened to the back of their ankles that looked like they could rip a tree in half with a single kick.

Hurricane looked over her troops with satisfaction. “These are the heroes of Stalliongrad. The ponies that won the war,” she said with iron resolve. “We sent a full company of griffon warriors crashing from the sky. For that, I get the Royal Medal of Valor. Next thing you know the Griffon King sends an ambassador to beg us for peace.”

Star Swirl looked. “If the negotiations go well—”

“Why should we negotiate?” Hurricane snapped. “We're winning! We can break the Griffon Kingdom for good just by continuing as we are.”

There was silence for a moment, as their leader spoke and every pegasus stopped what they were doing to listen. Hurricane looked at them, and Star Swirl could feel something like iron binding them together. He looked into her eyes and he could see blood in the skies. “The Princesses can do what they want,” Hurricane said in a voice like a razor. “But if they let me… We could take Griffonstone tonight, and bring back King Blaze’s bloody crown by morning.”

Hurricane turned away without another word and took off, soaring high into the air faster than Star Swirl had ever seen a pony fly.

That night it rained on his tower, and nowhere else.

– – –

It was late one night, and the halls were dark, and Star Swirl crept from one shadowy corner to the next, cursing internally as he held his bells still in his magic to avoid making a sound while he perked his ears and listened for the hoofsteps of the guards. If there was any indication anything was wrong, they would surely come running, hot on his trail.

Hearing nothing, he relaxed, and brought up from beneath his robe the prize of his quest: a glass jar of white powder.

He had embarked on his mission because he had a need. Specifically for natron, a chemical used since ancient times in cooking and also mummification. And he had to do it in secret because, as he had learned, the lords and ladies of the palace kitchen did not take kindly to outsiders in their domain.

He was halfway back to his apartments when a voice behind him spoke his name, and he jumped as if he’d been zapped by lightning. With his heart racing he turned to see a pegasus stallion in a hooded cloak, who had not been there a second previously, facing him.

Contrary to his fears it wasn’t a palace guard or one of the warrior chefs. But he also clearly wasn’t a civilian. His coat was pale. Years past it would have been a rich blue, but it had whitened with age to the color of glacial ice, and his mane, what was visible of it, was a solid gray. But though his fur and the lines of his muzzle betrayed his age, he was tall and powerfully built. The cloak could not conceal the outline of his armor entirely, and while his eyes were hidden in the shadows of his hood, but Star Swirl felt the force of his attention as if it was a physical weight.

“You're a Shadowbolt,” Star Swirl said.

“Cold Wing,” the pegasus said. His voice was deep, and dark, and calm. He raised a bladed wing, his only motion, flexing it out to his side in what might have been a gesture of greeting. It rustled his cloak, and Star Swirl saw the dark metal armor underneath. “Captain-Commander of Her Majesty of the Night Princess Luna’s honor guard. And you are Star Swirl of Edinspur, Royal Astronomer and adviser to the Royal Sisters on arcane matters. I understand you have been getting acquainted with the court. It is time we spoke.”

“You could have just visited my rooms,” Star Swirl said. “Very well, captain, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You know, I’ve never seen a Shadowbolt before. I could have used one of you in Saddle Arabia.” Star Swirl hazarded a smile. Cold Wing did not react. “What did you want to discuss?”

“The Royal Astronomer’s office falls under the domain of Princess Luna,” the pegasus said, in the same calm voice. “Your predecessor and I never saw eye to eye on certain matters. Your own nomination was contested. What I want to know, Star Swirl of Edinspur, is where your loyalties lie.”

Star Swirl blinked, felt his mouth flex as he swallowed unconsciously. “I serve the princess with all my heart.”

“Hmm.” There was a rustle of fabric and wings as the pegasus moved. “And what is your heart made of, unicorn?”

“Do you have reason to doubt me, captain?” Star Swirl asked. “I am a wizard. My heart is made of magic and starlight, and so long as I breathe I will not fail Luna in anything. Just put me to the test.”

“I do not test. I observe.” Cold Wing took another step forward. “I have heard the way the Princess talks to you, wizard. I remember when you first met.”

“The day we first – That was over ten years ago,” Star Swirl said.

“Yes. I was there. The Shadowbolts watch over our lady, Star Swirl. I have served the Princess since before you were born. I have known her in her wrath, in her grief, and in her mirth. You have known her for most of your life, and yet I can tell you, to her you are just a recent acquaintance.”

Star Swirl frowned. “What is your point, captain? Do the Shadowbolts not like the idea of some unicorn encroaching on their scene? Is this some sort of threat?”

“It is what it is,” Cold Wing said, taking a step closer. Star Swirl couldn’t see his eyes, in the darkness under the hood, even as he felt a chill from the stallion’s breath. “The Shadowbolts have served her majesty with absolute devotion for centuries. When a Shadowbolt dies, the greatest pegasi warriors come from every corner of the lands of ponies to compete for the honor to take her place. Not one among us would hesitate to give our lives for her.” Now the pegasus had stepped to the side so Star Swirl had his back to the stone wall, and drew closer. “I have heard the way she speaks to you. The way she smiles.” He stopped one pace before the unicorn. “She has hopes for you, Star Swirl. Not in all the time I have served her has she spoken to another pony the way she speaks to you. Princess Luna may be an immortal, but she is still a pony, and Star Swirl… if you disappoint her, if you let her down, if her hope in you is misplaced in any way… I will come to speak to you, and I will not be happy.”

They stood in tense silence for a moment, before Cold Wing turned aside and stalked down the corridor without another word.

“I’ll see you around, Captain,” Star Swirl muttered.

“No you won't,” Cold Wing replied. Then he passed through a shadow, and was gone.

– – –

Star Swirl stumbled and muttered to himself wearily he crossed the threshold of the gate to the Royal Botanical Gardens.

The Gardens covered a large stretch of land behind the walls of the castle, and not on the same side as his tower. It had taken him a while to find his way to it. But at last he was there, and looked out upon the lush, meticulous greenery.

The huge open space was in parts wild and natural and in other parts very carefully regimented and designed. A little creek ran through his field of vision lined with flower beds, hedges and rose bushes, trees competing with the stone wall behind him, itself covered in climbing vines, for height. A little wooden cottage stood off to one side, and outside it an earth pony mare stood on the grass, looking out silently across the vivid scene. She didn’t seem to notice Star Swirl’s approach, but looked like she was listening intently to something.

He walked up towards her. “Hello there,” he called out.

The mare raised a hoof. “Hold on,” she said, and waited for another few seconds before turning. “Sorry about that. I was just listening to the grass grow.”

“I’m… sorry I interrupted,” Star Swirl said. He cast a glance over the grass, but saw nothing. “Do you have a minute?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the mare said with a smile. Her coat was yellow, and her mane was rose red, fading to pink around the tips. Her face was completely without guile, and her voice was soft. Her mane was short, tied up behind her ears in a practical do, and her cutie mark was a bundle of fruits and vegetables that artfully took on the shape of a green pony. She looked him over. “You must be… You’re the new astronomer, right?”

“I am he,” he said, and raised a hoof. She bumped it. “Star Swirl of Edinspur. It’s good to meet another scholar.”

He raised a hoof. She bumped it. “Welcome to the Gardens! I’m Lily, the head gardener. I actually met you at that dinner party recently, didn’t I?”

Star Swirl blinked, thought back, and realized he vaguely remembered the mare who had sat several seats up from him, though he hadn’t spoken to her. “Oh! Yes. Sorry about that.” He shook his head. “I’ve been told I should get out more and meet other ponies. It’s… a challenge.”

“I can understand that,” Lily said softly, and Star Swirl heard that she meant it. “Everhold is rather hard to navigate at first… Physically and socially. But you get used to it.”

“I also got caught up in the rush of ponies stocking up the larder before the feast just now,” Star Swirl said, waving a hoof behind him. “The servants’ level is absolutely packed with wagonloads of hay and fruits. And guarded. The looks they gave me when I came close by the apple cart…” He shook his head in annoyance. “Anyway, I want to ask a favor. I assume the botanical gardens are well-supplied. Can I borrow some Heartroot? I need it for research purposes.”

“Heartroot? Why certainly, I keep some dried in my study at all times,” Lily said. “I have my own little lab. Nowhere near as big as yours, but I do a little alchemy now and then. Studying the chemical makeup of the soil, crossbreeding plants, that sort of thing.”

They walked towards the groundskeeper’s cottage. “Heartroot is supposed to have healing properties,” Star Swirl said. “I’m hoping to understand how it works.”

“Oh yes. But in high enough concentrations it’s lethal,” Lily said casually. They stepped inside the little cottage. Lily went over to a row of cupboards and rooted around in one, and emerged with a small labeled glass jar. “There! Dried and powdered Heartroot. Do let me know if you ever need more.”

“Thank you,” Star Swirl said, taking the jar. They stepped back outside, and Star Swirl took a few steps towards the door back into the castle. He cast a look around the garden, taking in the colors of the flowers, the whisper of the leaves in the wind, the play of shadows they cast on the grass. He heard the buzzing of heavy bumblebees, and the singing of birds, and his paces slowed, then stopped.

“This really is a beautiful garden,” Star Swirl said, and Lily smiled warmly in response. “The royal court is… a very busy place. It’s good to know that there’s someplace quiet enough to hear your thoughts.”

“The quiet is good,” Lily said, and Star Swirl nodded. “You have to keep your wits about you here in the killing fields.”

Star Swirl paused. “The what?”

“The war zone. The battlefield. The slaughterhouse.” She chuckled softly. “Whatever you want to call it, this garden is the place where mercy is banished and forgot.”

He looked out over the garden again. It remained empty and peaceful in the afternoon light.

“Oh, they might be quiet now but don't be fooled,” Lily said. “Plants are merciless killers, every one. Every flower, blade of grass, every fern and bush and tree are all constantly trying to kill all the rest and claim their territory. See this tree?”

Star Swirl looked at the tree. Its trunk was slim, with stone-like dark gray bark, and rose to a crown of red leaves that was thick with large flowers in shades of fiery yellows and oranges, with long petals like spikes. “It’s very pretty.”

“This tree has figured out a way to hire assassins to get rid of its rivals,” Lily said matter-of-factly. “It’s called a Dragonsneeze Tree. As the name suggests, dragons are deathly allergic to it. If a dragon came near it would erupt dragonfire all over the place… and conveniently kill off just about every other plant except the Dragonsneeze tree itself. Dragonsneeze trees are impervious to fire, but they can sense its heat. When that happens, you know what it does? It opens its flowers and releases a cloud of spores to seed the area with its offspring.” She chuckled.

Star Swirl stared at the tree with eyes wide in shock, saying nothing. Lily wandered over towards a second tree and hooked down a low-hanging shoot. “Every tree is its own thriving community, and like every community, is torn by internal tension. The outermost bud on every branch makes a poison that drips down the branch to keep down the others, stunting their growth, trying to keep as much of the sunlight for itself. The highest bud on a young sapling, if it survives long enough, becomes the king of the whole tree, shaping its growth. If the top bud gets killed off the next in line is happy to take over and continues keeping down every one behind it.”

She released the shoot and moved on to a nearby flower bed filled with blossoms of many different colors, from bright red to pink to orange, purple and white. Lily smiled. “Ahh… Poppies. So lovely, so colorful. I call them ‘war flowers’, because so many wars were fought over them.” She drew in a deep breath of its flowers. “With enough poppies you could bring the most powerful kingdom in the world crashing to its knees.”

Lily stood up. “You know that smell of freshly cut grass?”

Star Swirl nodded.

“That smell is a chemical warning signal to the rest of the grass, alerting them that they are under attack. They respond by releasing chemicals that turns their taste bitter, to protect themselves from us,” Lily said cheerfully. “You are smelling their screams.”

She always smiled, and her smile was always friendly and warm.

“While some trees are cunning and lay intricate schemes to reach their goals, others are much more direct. Like this one here.” Star Swirl looked at the next tree. There was a thick hemp rope hung up around it in a wide space, and a prominently placed red sign read DO NOT TOUCH in large red letters. Lily made an excited high-pitched sound. “This is the pride of my collection! It’s called Hippomane Mancinella. It means ‘little apple that drives horses mad’.” She grinned and pointed out its features. “As you’ve no doubt already guessed, its apples are poisonous. But it doesn’t stop there. The leaves and the bark are poisonous to the touch. The sap will burn your skin, or blind you if it gets in your eyes. If you burn it, the smoke will injure your eyes. If it rains and you seek shelter under its branches, the drops that fall from it will give you blisters. It just can’t bring itself to stop!”

Star Swirl stared at the tree in horror. “Why do you even have one of these?”

“Everything has a place in the garden!”

“And the sign?”

“The Princesses made me put that up. I didn’t want to. It breaks the immersion. And they flatly refused my request to add a Swamp Fever Tree just because ‘there is no cure’.” She pouted at the sign and shook her head indignantly, but then turned back and smiled. “When the fruits fall they rot, and poison the soil where they land, so no grass can grow there. It opens up more territory for the tree’s own seeds. The grass has its own ways of fighting back. The grass and the trees and the flowers are constantly trying to kill each other.” She sighed wistfully. “I love plants, I really do, but don’t turn your back on them for a second.”

“Well,” Star Swirl said, his head spinning. “This… was eye-opening. I should probably get going.”

“Oh! Yes,” Lily said. “I shouldn’t keep you. But if you ever need more poison, you know where to find me. Have a nice day!”

– – –

The sun and moon turned, and turned, and turned again, and then it was the day of the Ambassador’s arrival.

Star Swirl had been pulled from a very sensitive experiment at an early hour by a servant and summoned to report to the throne hall at the given time in his finest. And given that his wizard robe and hat was back from the tailor with all the scorch marks repaired and the bells sewed back on, his finest it was.

All the regulars of the court were present, it seemed, from the nobles to the custodians. In the mezzanine earls and countesses took their seats in bright tailored dress and gemstone brooches like they were attending a night at the theater. Closer to the throne Star Swirl saw the secretary of the Everhold Diplomatic Corps flanked by a small army of her underlings, paper-pushers, quill-climbers, and ink-divers, locked in last-minute discussion. Everywhere he looked ponies were talking to each other, nodding at some and avoiding others in a complicated network of entanglements.

Star Swirl found himself waiting by the wall as the minutes passed, wondering how long it would take, and whether the beakers would misbehave while he was away.

As the hall filled up the Seneschal’s deputies passed up and down, counting attendees and directing them to where they should stand with the air of arranging flowers on a table or pieces on a board, according to esoteric rules they did not feel the need to share. Star Swirl was pushed down to the farthest corner of the hall on the right side and instructed to stand straight and look dignified.

Across the hall, on a side stage, a quartet of musicians tuned their instruments and began to play a slow, but airy and light-hearted piece.

Star Swirl looked around from his post. The Princesses’ thrones were empty, and no other ponies set hoof on the dais. Royal guards in golden armor stood by to make sure of it. Glancing around, he spotted Lily at the back, looking very uncomfortable as she tried to stay pressed against the wall. She saw him as well, and he thought she was going to wave, but the crowd blocked her from sight and he didn’t see her again.

At the stroke of the hour a trumpet sounded and the crowd’s chatter fell silent. A herald in brightly colored clothing clapped his hooves sharply on the stone and proclaimed:

“All rise for their majesties, the Princesses of Everhold! Her Royal Highness Celestia Apollonia Helia, the Daybreaker, Princess of the Day, Charioteer of the Celestial Fire! Her Royal Highness Luna Selena Artemis Phoebe Noctis, Night-Mare Moon, Princess of the Night!”

The ponies stood up as the door at the back of the hall was opened, and the princesses emerged in their full regalia.

Luna looked out upon the assembled court as she entered, playing her part in the performance as she scanned the hall and took in the assembled faces. Her eyes fell on Star Swirl for a moment, dressed in his starry robes, and he looked to her as he shuffled his hooves to stand correctly in the press of ponies. Luna raised her sight to the mezzanine, and noticed that Blue Horn sat directly above him, both of them oblivious to the other.

The Princesses went to stand before their thrones and were still, and almost immediately another trumpet sounded from the bottom of the hall. A guard stallion clad in gold armor stomped the stone with the butt of his spear and proclaimed, as if in answer: “Announcing to Everhold the Ambassador of King Blaze and the Griffon Kingdom, Her Grace Lady Gale, Duchess of Torrent Aerie!”

Unicorn guards opened the door with magic, and the ambassador entered the throne room.

Star Swirl looked, and kept looking. Lady Gale was a grand griffon, far larger than a pony, clad in scarlet silk and wearing a fire ruby gemstone set in a gold necklace. Her claws were long and slim and sharp, her lion paws graceful and silent, and she was tall and narrow as a crane, giving the impression that she could at any moment snap you up like a fish from a stream.

Coming up behind her on either side was an honor guard of two mighty griffon warriors covered from their talons to their haunches in ceremonial full metal armor. Their helmets were crafted of thick metal bands woven together in an artful pattern, with no clear eye holes, giving the impression of hooded falcons. With every movement they gleamed in the candlelight, a dazzling and disorienting display that could easily distract from the long spears they wore slung across their backs, and the long knives they carried in their belts.

Star Swirl heard the whispers in the crowd turn to murmurs, caught a few furtive, doubtful glances among ponies for what this would mean.

The rest of the ambassador’s full retinue followed behind them, a long line of servants and advisers and experts walking stone-faced and stoic behind their leader as the music played.

Star Swirl’s ears perked up. As the procession filed in there was a strange sound, a deep thudding, that gradually became audible in the hall. The more sensitive members of the court had largely regained their composure as the griffons filed in, but Star Swirl spotted some ponies reacting to the sound, freezing up, looking around them uncertainly, urgent whispers. And then it emerged.

Everypony stared. Even Luna found it hard to look away. At the very end of the company of griffons there was a minotaur, fifteen feet tall, with iron-tipped horns that rose another two feet above his head. He walked in slowly on cloven hooves, each step landing softly but heavily enough to send a low rumble through the stone. One massively muscled arm rested on the shaft of a mace, holding it in place across his bare shoulder. The handle resembled nothing so much as the mast of a sailing ship, and the head was a ball of solid iron as thick as a stallion’s barrel, studded with spikes.

He looked to the little ponies like nothing so much as a giant monster that could smash down buildings on a whim. He wore no armor, and he glanced around the great hall as though bored.

Lady Gale moved proudly and slowly across the hall, making no reaction to the throng of ponies or to the reaction her company made on them, her eyes fixed ahead of her. She came to a halt before the throne, and met the princesses’ eyes, and only then did she smile. When she spoke her voice was graceful, and sharp. “Your majesties. I thank you for this warm welcome.” She bowed, swiftly and precisely, and some of the more nervous ponies twitched involuntarily at the motion. “His Majesty King Blaze of the Griffon Empire sends his greetings and well-wishes to the Princesses of Everhold. He asked me to convey his hope that these talks will be fruitful.”

“You are welcome to our court, Your Grace, and we also hope that we can work together to put an end to the bloodshed that has divided us,” Princess Celestia said. “Tonight we will share a feast. Tomorrow we will discuss how we can restore peace.”

With the start of the formalities thus concluded, the bulk of the crowd was relieved and released to return to their affairs. In the throne hall there was more music, and dancers, and jugglers, and the entertainment continued as the crowd thinned out. The hall was now somewhat more evenly divided between, on the one side, functionaries of Everhold and members of the court with knowledge of foreign lands, and the ambassador’s retinue on the other.

Star Swirl was about to leave with the rest of the crowd when a junior herald grabbed him, and informed him the Royal Astronomer was on the guest list for the dinner, somewhere near the very bottom. He found himself led along to the Royal Sisters’ own dining hall, where tables had been set with a great feast for four dozen ponies and griffons, and Star Swirl was shown to a seat at a far corner. A minute later the food was served and Star Swirl found himself picking at a salad and wondering if it had anything from the palace garden in it.

Seated next to him was the minotaur. The enormous creature had a plate piled high with… Star Swirl could only think of it as ‘offal’. It had been prepared specially by expert foreign chefs hired and flown by pegasus-drawn chariot to Everhold for the occasion, to be served to the griffons and to him, and his elbows moved constantly as he ate, often swinging alarmingly over Star Swirl’s head.

All around them the ponies did their best not to look. Most of those who did soon looked squeamish and pushed their plates away. But Star Swirl couldn’t help but watch in rapt fascination. In spite of his enormous bulky arms the minotaur wielded the cutlery with a deftness and agility Star Swirl found hard to put in words. The way the knife and fork flipped around in his fingers, the many digits operating seamlessly to switch between configurations to precisely cut, shuffle, pierce, or lift…

Alright, maybe there are some uses for it.

The minotaur noticed, and glanced down at the unicorn. “Have you never seen a minotaur before, little unicorn?” He spoke in an accent Star Swirl couldn’t place, and his voice was just a deep and rumbling as his massive bulk would suggest.

Everypony else at the table managed to suddenly focus on something else. Star Swirl felt the giant’s gaze on him.

Try to be on your best behavior.

“I have, yes,” Star Swirl said. “I saw minotaurs in Saddle Arabia. I think they were mercenaries as well.”

The minotaur shifted in his seat, and everypony nearby instinctively tensed, as if preparing to run. He looked down at Star Swirl. “I am not a mercenary,” he said in flat, heavy tones. “I’m a bodyguard.”

Star Swirl’s eyes darted left and right, and saw that all around them the others were suddenly studiously engaged in discussion elsewhere. “I mean, you were hired to use force if necessary. Aren’t they the same thing, in some ways?”

“I could argue they are exact opposites,” the minotaur said, looking down sideways at the unicorn. “Mercenaries fight wars. I’m a diplomat’s bodyguard, which means I am here to do the work of diplomacy as well.” He stabbed something with a fork, and ate it, chewing slowly while maintaining eye contact. “So diplomatic.”

Star Swirl blinked. “Alright then. Well… Welcome to Everhold. I’m the Royal Astronomer.”

“Hmm.” The minotaur looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I wouldn’t have thought there was much need for astronomy here, when you can just ask the pony upstairs to move the stars as needed.”

“That’s not how it works,” Star Swirl said. “The stars have their own ways of thinking, and of speaking to us, and that’s what I try to understand. You can throw a rock, but that doesn’t teach you much about how rocks are born.”

“Maybe if you throw it hard enough that would persuade the other rocks to talk,” the minotaur said. He reached out a massive limb, bulging with muscles, and presented his hand. “I’m Oaken.”

Star Swirl uncertainly presented his hoof. “Star Swirl.”

Oaken took hold of the hoof in his hand, squeezed it, and shook it.

“There!” Oaken said. “Now we have said our names and shaken on it, and that means we have opened a diplomatic overture between our nations. That is the law of Knossox.”

Star Swirl withdrew his hoof. “Well. In that case I should warn you that I have been strictly forbidden from engaging in diplomacy, so understand that nothing I say means anything at all.”

“Good,” said Oaken. “I’m not an ambassador, I’m a set-piece hired for a performance, and it won’t mean a thing.”

Star Swirl happened to glance up towards the head of the tables, where the princesses and the ambassador sat, and noticed that both sisters were watching him, Luna nervously, Celestia with stone-faced disapproval. It made him tense.

“We’re all hoping for peace here,” Star Swirl suggested. “I think I can safely say that.”

“Hoping for and believing in are two different things,” Oaken said. “As the great philosopher Atauraxes said.”

“I remember him,” Star Swirl said. “I read his paradoxes in school.”

“Peace is the greatest of all paradoxes,” Oaken said. “It only comes when you stop caring about it. Peace is achieved when you care deeply about not caring.”

Star Swirl frowned. “Sounds like a load of horse apples.”

“Apples?” Oaken said with a deep chuckle. “Melons. Minotaur melons! Huge and fecund!”

Meanwhile, at the head of the hall, Luna ate diplomatically from her salad, a few seats away from Lady Gale.

“I cannot say how pleased I am that you’ve come,” Celestia said to the griffon, who continued eating as she was addressed. “I know that we can settle this with words, rather than violence.”

“Indeed? And can we trust that you will be good for your word?” Lady Gale asked, somehow both casually and pointedly at once.

Celestia gave a soft chuckle, as if she had just been told a slightly confusing joke, and blinked. “Of course you can. We are not oathbreakers.”

“That is what an oathbreaker would say, as Count Garrul remarked to me recently.” Lady Gale said with a glance back to Celestia. She shrugged. “I wonder whether any deal we can agree upon will be accepted in Griffonstone. King Blaze is in no mood for humiliating concessions. It was only by a narrow margin that the court agreed to enter these talks, and they are prepared to walk away if the results are displeasing.”

Yes, and you know what King Blaze feels. Luna felt her blood begin to boil, and it stung even more to hear Celestia listen and nod along so calmly at the ambassador’s arrogant words.

“There is one particular matter I must ask about,” the ambassador continued, slicing a thin strip of flesh with her claw before picking it up between her talons. “I am curious about a certain soldier. I believe they call her Hurricane.”

Luna tensed up, feeling a chill grip her spine.

Celestia did not seem worried, but only nodded. “Indeed?”

“I understand she is receiving a unique honor: a Triumph.”

Celestia listened, her face neutral. “This is true.”

“The troops at Falcongrad said that she fought like a griffon. They know no higher praise than that.” She picked up the strip of flesh in her talons and placed it in her beak, chewed it, and swallowed it. “It would please me to meet her.”

Celestia nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “That can be arranged, if it would please you.”

Lady Gale demurred, and nodded. “I do hope so.”

Luna found that she had no appetite. She swirled her fork around her salad before catching herself, thought back to her foalhood and her mother’s voice saying don’t play with your food. She glanced across the hall, and her eyes fell once more on Star Swirl, locked in conversation with the minotaur.

So it happened she was looking away when without warning a cork popped, and the world exploded.

The high table suddenly flipped over with tremendous force, the great feast splattering everywhere and everyone, as if Discord himself had flicked it with his claw. Time seemed to slow down, the moments dragging out as the air filled with cries and a hundred faces turned towards the commotion. Celestia and Luna sat with identical looks of stunned horror on their faces as the ambassador recoiled in revulsion.

Star Swirl watched in shock, and was the first to immediately recognize what he was seeing: Cold Wing in mid-air, moving at speed, launched from where the table had just been flipped with his teeth bared in rage and with his tackblade extended as he hurtled directly towards the ambassador with his grey cloak gusting behind him.

Lady Gale saw him too, and reared up on her hind legs with a whip-fast beat of her wings, rising to her full height and seeming only slightly surprised, intent on looking her death in the face. Her guards were already moving but they were too late: by the time they closed ranks with blades raised to impale him Cold Wing had already passed between them, a blur of shadows and metal.

He closed and struck with a single thunderous crash, and then all was silence.

Lady Gale stood motionless, eyes frozen as her guards closed ranks around her, spears in their claws, wings spread wide. But she did not fall, and when she glanced down with shaking movements she found that she was unharmed, with Cold Wing behind her. He stood entirely still, his movement ended as suddenly as it began.

It was only then that they saw the diamond dog lying flat on her back beneath him, prone and whimpering in surrender, his tackblade pressed against her throat while a glass vial rolled on the stone floor by her paw, leaving drops of liquid that burned where they fell.

Author's Note:

Gardening tips:
The truth about the smell of cut grass, including the line "You are smelling their screams", comes from here: https://twitter.com/DrunkPhyto/status/1168030570099675136

The Manchineel tree: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/whatever-you-do-do-not-eat-touch-or-even-inhale-the-air-around-the-manchineel-tree

The story of poisonously ambitious buds is from this book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Trees-Hugh-Johnson/dp/1845330552

I can't actually remember where I read the story about fallen fruit poisoning the grass, so I can't guarantee it with the same veracity as the others.

Happy gardening everyone!

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

Ah. The White Knight's the philosophical sort of warmonger. The classic "We must be strengthened in the crucible of war" Darwinist. A shame he's in Equestria; another world would suit him far better.

“Hrmph…” He shook his head. “I just can't see any practical use for it.”

You know it's bad when pre-banishment Luna tells you to get out more.

"Diamond Doge" made me smile.

“Hurricane! Hurricane! Hurricane! Hurricane!”

Ah. Well, she'd have to be around this time period at some point. I both am and am not surprised by the sheer amount of intensity in her.

“Oh, they might be quiet now but don't be fooled,” Lily said. “Plants are merciless killers, every one.”

And so it began...

Star Swirl doesn't understand most ponies. Which, in turn, means he actually gets along with beings who aren't ponies. Honestly, if he could learn to care about other beings some more, he might actually make a decent ambassador.

Gale meeting Hurricane... I'm sure that won't end tempestuously. And that's before considering the thwarted assassination.

Wonderful to see more of this. Looking forward to the next installment.

[Daedalus Aegle]

10297112
I honestly think this was quite a chapter, in the end. There is so much in it, even if it is more about other ponies than Star Swirl himself.

You know it's bad when pre-banishment Luna tells you to get out more.

Yes, there's a bit of historical echo in that...

Ah. Well, she'd have to be around this time period at some point. I both am and am not surprised by the sheer amount of intensity in her.

Ah yes, Hurricane. Oh yes.

Clover didn't mention Hurricane by name in the recap (maybe she should have, darnit), but she has appeared a couple of times before, in the war: first a minor scene at Whiteblood Manor, and more significantly at the Battle of Stalliongrad.

Oh, and there was this exchange in chapter 6 of The Education when Clover and Star Swirl see Cloudsdale pass overhead:

Star Swirl was holding her muzzle shut with magic. “Clover,” he said quietly. “No, we're not going there. Remember that we are trying to stay low. While I dare say few pegasi even know who I am, somepony would certainly recognize me and send word to Commander Hurricane, and then I would have to fight off all of Storm Legion and we would miss our next stop.”
“Oh.” Clover bit her lip. “Commander Hurricane wants to kill you? What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” Star Swirl said.
“Nothing?” Clover raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing. It was her mother, actually. Come on, we'll follow underneath the city and make camp under the trees when night falls.”

So we know this is gonna end well

And so it began...

The origin story for which everything else has been buildup, told at last.

(Good grief, I am just giving it all away in this comment. Perhaps I have gotten tired of coyness, after all this time.)

Thanks for reading, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Even now, I have no clear idea what went wrong with this chapter that kept it for so long. And now with that Sisyphean task out of the way, the next chapter will hopefully happen as well.

[Thought Prism]

Lily is a fantastic character, and I hope she sticks around. The numerous developments elsewhere are also piquing my interest.

Of course the only public wing of the castle is sun-themed. Why even bother making the rest a neutral grey, at that point?

[Daedalus Aegle]

10300275
Glad you liked the new chapter!

Just to be clear, the Solar Wing is in the public part of the castle, but it isn't the only public part

I agree that Lily is great. I think all the characters are great, really, but Lily's scene is in a class of its own, I think we can say that.

[EmberLight]

Blue Horn smiled, just to show teeth.

This is quite possibly my most favourite line of all the books I've read. And I can't quite tell why.

[SIGAWESOME]

“War is the great liberator,” the White Knight said slowly, reverently. “It rips apart the bonds that bind us. It burns away our illusions of strength and resilience, and shows us what we are truly made of… and it sets us free to do what we wish. <...> It demands that we survive.”

10297112

The White Knight's the philosophical sort of warmonger. The classic "We must be strengthened in the crucible of war" Darwinist.

Glazier's Fallacy much? Yes it will certainly "free" and "liberate" you to a Red Queen Race of increasingly desperate and cruel acts of barbarism for an increasingly pathetic survival until at last you are left broken and starving alone on the cold ashes of civilization.

“Hrmph…” He shook his head. “I just can't see any practical use for it.”

Starswirl! You forget your own history and ancestry! Paleoponies had finger paws.
images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/7216fb3b-b71b-415b-88fa-dd7594714b4c/dc8dzqi-c31fd52d-0e5f-444e-a29b-7a2973f05f4d.jpg/v1/fill/w_900,h_1165,q_75,strp/headcanon__pony_paws_by_earthsong9405_dc8dzqi-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3siaGVpZ2h0IjoiPD0xMTY1IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvNzIxNmZiM2ItYjcxYi00MTViLTg4ZmEtZGQ3NTk0NzE0YjRjXC9kYzhkenFpLWMzMWZkNTJkLTBlNWYtNDQ0ZS1hMjliLTdhMjk3M2YwNWY0ZC5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9OTAwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.e8zgxnUCvA3kLyKYWMsJiWFgvIV7vNNQqdJIO6Kbi5g

“You can always just ask, you know,” Luna said.

It strikes me that Luna could hide little mysteries, secrets and surprises in her night sky to pleasantly surprise, reward, and entice ponies who study and appreciate her work. A bit like an author leaving little easter-eggs in her or his work for the dedicated fans to discover. I guess that will have to wait for another millennium or so after her Return.

As a side note, given Luna's colouration and the rather intimate positioning of her more prominent stellar markings, I am surprised that "Royal Astronomer" is not mistaken by some to be some sort of harem concubine...

“And this is… soap?”

“It’s all the fashion in Prance,” the host said from behind him as he trotted by. “It was shipped all the way from Mareseilles!”

"Soap? This new nonsense will never catch on! Dust and sand are perfectly serviceable!"

“The stars are watching us closely, and they are worried,” <...> “They do not always speak clearly. And they do not always care about the same things ponies do. I don’t know if the stars understand the idea of war.”

Not sure which is worse there: stars with their monstrous (to us) alien intelligence and power being completely indifferent to are existence or aware and actively watching... Shades of Lovecraft here.

“Meet the ponies,” he muttered to himself. “See what it’s like… Be on your best behavior.” He sighed. “Strangers are hard. I wish there was somepony I could talk to about magic, at least that would be interesting.”

Oof...

Just because it happens on a different social, more social scale, does not mean it still is not a battlefield. He is so poorly equipped it is akin to going up against an enraged hydra in rut with nothing but wishful thinking and a light cantrip.

I always thought you’d become a necromancer, since your papers were graveyards where good ideas went to die, and where decayed scholars were raised from the dead to devour the brains of the living.

Better call a pegamedic for an emergency flight to A&E, those were some severe burns

That night it rained on his tower, and nowhere else.

Rumour has it that this evening was the inspiration of his later work High Intensity Thaumic Discharge Along a Normal Vector Space of Differentiable Manifolds of Arbitrary Dimension Embedded in an Equuidean Space. Hurricane and the rest of her company never did find out where all the lightning scorches and burns on their muzzles and rumps came from the following morning, writing it off as forgotten drunken revelries that got out of hoof (as the best kinds do)

If a dragon came near it would erupt dragonfire all over the place… and conveniently kill off just about every other plant except the Dragonsneeze tree itself.

Foal's play! Eucalypts/bluegum IRL produce an extremely volatile and inflammable oil that essentially turns the whole forest into a giant fuel air explosive. These are trees as designed by Michael Bay.

“Oh! Yes,” Lily said. “I shouldn’t keep you. But if you ever need more poison, you know where to find me. Have a nice day!”

I hope we get to see more of Lily. She seems like a genuinely interesting mare who can hold her own against Starswirl's intellect.

It was only then that they saw the diamond dog lying flat on her back beneath him, prone and whimpering in surrender, his tackblade pressed against her throat while a glass vial rolled on the stone floor by her paw, leaving drops of liquid that burned where they fell.

!

Someone has been a bad dog!

[Ice Justice]

I know pine needles acidify the soil, and various trees and other plants excrete toxins that only they are immune to. Can't say I've heard of fruit like that. Seems to rather defeat the purpose of fruit really, though I'd like to hear more if I could.