Exordia

by Claystead

Part 2: Capital of The Skies

Equa, capital of the Respublica Universalis Equestrica, 27 BC

«Clover the Clever?»

With eyes still misty, Clover turned away from the funeral pyre to face the stallion who had spoken to her. To her surprise he carried the armor of a centurion.

“Shining Star, XXVI Legion,” the beige-colored earth pony introduced himself, “I would like you to answer a few questions, if y-“
He was interrupted by a tall cyan pegasus stallion, who was wearing the ceremonial armor and purple cape of the Senate Guard.

“My apologies for the… bluntness of my colleague,” he apologized eloquently, without a trace of accent. Clover was at first surprised by this, given that the unified Equestrian language was only two decades old, but realized that everypony in the government had probably received lessons in the language so as to ease communications between the pony races.

“I am so sorry for intruding,” he continued, “it was not our intention to disturb you during your time of mourning. However, somepony simply cannot stay their hoof, despite being specifically instructed to stay away.” The last sentence was aimed at Shining Star, who blushed and trotted off.

Clover composed herself and looked the stallion directly in the eye, despite being almost half a head shorter than him.
“Is there anything I can help you with… what did you say your name was again?” she asked.

The stallion raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, a thousand pardons. I completely forgot to introduce myself. I am Clear Skies from the Senate Guard. The Senate wishes to send its condolences. Your master was a great pony, perhaps the greatest magician ever to live.”

He stopped and looked with a suspicious glance over at the other mourners by the funeral pyre, before continuing in a hushed tone.
“And that is another reason why I have come. The Senate wishes to know if he left you anything… special, as his apprentice and sole beneficiary.”

Clover frowned. “What kind of special?”

“Magic objects, a map, a diary, or anything of the sort.”

Suddenly Clover realized exactly what the Senate was after. A weapon.

She gave the guard her most saccharine smile. “No. I am afraid not. Just old books and the house.”

Sky’s brow furrowed. “You sure? Nothing at all?”

“Nope,” Clover said with a shrug, “not that I know of, anyway.”

The guard scowled at her. “You are aware of the legal complications of providing misinformation for a Senate representative?”

For the first time in the conversation, Clover broke out into a grin. She was very well aware that Sky’s thinly weiled threat would have been career suicide had she been in a bad mood.

“I am, very much so, thank you,” she said smiling smugly, “I must say, I am really impressed by your… eagerness to pursue this issue. I will make sure to mention your name to my best friend Praetor Crustulum when we go out to eat this weekend.”

Clear Sky looked like he had choked on his own tongue. “Y… I… the Praetor?” he stuttered.

She nodded. “Smart Cookie is always on the look for someone who has a… special relationship with the ponies she looks out for,” she continued, using the Praetor’s old earth pony name.

Sky scowled at her, but bowed a little. “You sound more like your mentor every day. Have a pleasant night.”
With that, he disappeared.

Clover herself left the funeral pyre, deciding it was time to go home and check on the second memory medallion.

Part II - Capital of the Skies

26th day, 7th moon, 17th year of the reign

I have spent the last three and a half weeks travelling and talking with Plateau. I have learned much about him. As a young colt he had travelled all over the pegasi lands and beyond. After receiving tutelage at a school of philosophy in Pegasopolis, he grew fascinated with the philosophical differences in various cultures. He travelled far and wide to experience and analyze the cultural and religious ideas around the known world. It was during one of these trips he had befriended my master.

When he was not talking about some quirky culture, he taught me the pegasi language and details about their religion and society, invaluable advice for an untraveled youngster such as myself. It was this morning, during one of our arguments about religion, that we saw the Diamond of the Azure, as the poets call it.

The hot sun was blazing overhead on yet another slow and uncomfortable day. Our cart was pulled by two bulls who rarely said a word, and even rarer more than a single syllable.

“…and so I cannot understand the pegasi affection with Celestia as some protector of magic. If you want to sacrifice to a strong goddess, Luna would be the obvious choice. The darkness protects and conceals you from the enemy, and her light will… guide… you…” his speech sIowed, and I looked confused at his distracted but triumphant expression, before following his gaze with my eyes.

My mouth hung open at the sight of Pegasoplis. We were on the top of a small ridge, and below us we could see a verdant green valley full of little farmers moving about in their fields of grain, grapes and olive groves. Contrasting it was the sparkling azure sea, gliding almost seamlessly over into a clear blue sky. But dominating it all was a large hill filled with marble ruins, a road winding up its side up to a cloud-bridge. The bridge led to Pegasopolis itself, a vast expanse of cloud stretching out over the sea, buildings cut from it rising up to different heights. There was a steady, bright-colored stream of traffic over the bridge, that much I could see even at that distance.

“Impressive, eh?” Plateau smiled as he made the cart move faster.

“It is… quite the sight…” I stuttered.

“See those ruins on the hill? We used to live on the ground. 400 years ago we were a democracy, like the earth ponies are now. But then…” he slowed down and got a sad look on his face, “then we were attacked by diamond dogs. There were still many of them around in these parts back then. They burned it all down. In order to distribute food more efficiently and keep the order in those dire times, or so they said, the military took control. We have been ruled by a Commander ever since, supported by five top generals. They appoint each other. There is no longer any use for philosophers such as me. We are relics of a bygone era. These days it is all about expansion and glory…”
He fell silent, and I followed suit for another fifteen minutes.

“I have never seen a city this big before…” I thought aloud as we approached the hill.

My companion heard me. “400.000 souls. Biggest city in the civilized world, and an architectural marvel.”

I gasped. “That is more than ten times the population of our capital!”

“Oh, we have ponies from all over. There are large unicorn and earth pony districts, albeit poor and rundown parts of the city. Cloudwalking spells are big business for unicorns. You will almost certainly see some hanging around the bridge, trying to sell their skills to new arrivals.”

I looked up the hill. “Ingenious defense position, I must admit. You can hide your soldiers in-between the ruins, and the attacker would have to charge uphill, fight to take it, and then treat his soldiers with cloudwalking spells before charging them across a kill-zone bridge under constant fire from archers posted in the buildings on the other side.”

Plateau looked surprised at me. I blushed.
“My father was a soldier. I forgot to tell you. As a colt, I always loved it when he pointed out things like that. It made day-to-day life more exciting, I guess.”

My companion gave me a wide grin. “You know, I think you and Commander Alexálogo will get along just fine.”

Pegasopolis, 27th day, 7th moon, 17th year of the reign

Today has been… eventful. I must admit I am afraid. Afraid of the future. Earlier today I agreed to… well, let me start with the beginning.

“The Commander said that you could see him whenever you wish, Master Oropédio,” the servant said with a bow, “he has expected you.”
“Thank you very much.” Plateau replied, and hinted that the young colt should run along. Then he turned towards me, who was, to put it mildly, more than a little distracted by the height under the roof of the building we were in, a columned, temple-like edifice sticking out of the main government building in Pegasopolis.

He stood still rolling his eyes for a few seconds before I noticed him.

“Erm…” I started, but he brushed me off with a hoof.

“Starswirl, listen closely. I have to go back to the taverna we spent the night at and pick up some maps, charts and documents. It will probably not take me more than ten minutes, but we cannot keep the Commander waiting; his time is precious at such a momentous juncture. You will understand soon. For now, head in through that door over there,” he pointed to a large bronze door on the solid wall opposite the colonnade we were standing by, “and present yourself to Bukefalos, the commander’s personal assistant. And remember: do present and address yourself as Silver Marlin to any and all who ask. Understood?”

I blinked a couple of times at the word-flow, but nodded.
“That door, Bukefalos, Marlin. Understood.”

“Good.” Plateau simply stated, before turning in a flourish of his garments and hurrying off the way we came in.

I was left alone by the colonnade, room empty save for a couple of muttering, toga-clad pegasi in one corner and two silent guards outside the door I was supposed to go through.

I swallowed, straightened my mane and started heading over towards the door. The guards scanned me with their eyes, looking for weapons as I approached, but they let me through without incident.

As I closed the door behind me with one of my back hooves I looked around the large, empty room I found myself in. The room was devoid of any decoration or furniture save a large stone table on the far side, with a throne-looking gilded chair at the end, and ordinary chairs lining it. On the table stood an earthenware bowl of green apples.

The only pony in the room was eating one of the apples while reading a scroll. He sat on one of the chairs, hind legs resting on the table. I cleared my throat, and the white pegasus looked up. A pair of playful brown eyes peered out at me underneath a wild light brown mane.

“Eh… Greetings,” I started, “I would like to s-“

“Welcome to our fair city, stranger.” he interrupted me, putting away the scroll in a small sack I had not noticed.

After a moment where I was about to answer, I realized that he had spoken my own tongue.

“You speak Unicornian tongue?” I asked, frowning.

“A little. I had a good teacher when I was a colt. I would prefer if we used my own language, though.”

“Of course,” I said, in the pegasus tongue, “I am the guest here, after all.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed. Now…” He dropped down from his chair and walked over to me, all the while balancing the apple perfectly on his right wing, until he reached me and took it in his hoof once more.

“…how can I help you, stranger?” he finished, and took a big bite of the apple.

At this range I realized that he was no older than me, which made me feel a great deal more comfortable.

“My name is Silver Marlin. I come seeking an audience with the Commander. He has called upon my services.”

The stallion raised an eyebrow. “You are Marlin? I expected you to be older. And where is Master Oropédio?”

“Gone to pick up some things. He told me to go ahead,” I explained, “because I should not keep the-“

“Commander.”

I looked around in surprise, and spotted a young brown stallion with a curly mane of the same color trot across the floor towards us, apparently having entered through a small side door I had failed to notice.

“Commander,” he said again, directed towards my conversational partner, “the generals are waiting in the West Wing Vista, as ordered. One of the guards sent word that Master Oropédio would be here in a few minutes, do you wish me to direct him there upon his arr- Uhm… I think your companion may be sick, Commander. He looks dangerously pale.”

The Commander looked at me with a playful grin.
“It is nothing, Bukefalos, just passing fear of having somehow insulted me, I believe. This is Silver Marlin, the magic expert from Unicornia we called for.”

He turned to me. “I must have forgotten to introduce myself. Where are my manners? Commander Alexálogo, head of the armed forces and ruler of Pegasopolis. I believe we have business, so if you would please follow me?”

With that he trotted towards the side door, a few seconds before I recovered from the shock and started following him.

The Commander led me to a room that was… well, it was more of a covered veranda than a room, with three of the walls just being columns with a beautiful view of the sea inbetween. Outside was a small gangway running around the room. I guessed it was for posting archers in case of attack.

In the middle of the room was a table surrounded by a hoofful of pegasi, bearing the elaborately decorated chestplates and capes that obviously signified them as senior military officers. Their attention was fixed at Plateau, who was fishing something out of a cylindrical bag, but quickly shifted to the Commander and me. Plateau looked up and followed their gaze.

He smiled. “Ah, Commander. I see you have met Marlin. Should we begin?”

The Commander raised a hoof and shook his head. “A moment, Master Oropédio. Introductions first.”

He looked over the room. “Everypony, this is our new companion Silver Marlin. Marlin, you have already met Master Oropédio. But these other ponies here are the best military minds in the civilized world. This is Admiral Íppo, head of our fleet and the stallion behind the counterattack against earth pony pirates raiding our coasts two decades ago.”

He pointed to an aquamarine-colored stallion with a large black beard, who grunted what I assumed was an annoyed greeting.

The Commander continued, pointing to a sand-colored stallion of about forty.
“General Kouagka of the Left Wing, the best chariot racer in all of Pegasopolis.”

Kouagka nodded to me.

The Commander went on, pointing to a white pegasus with a grey mane and a cutiemark that looked like a snake coiling around a stick.
“Surgeon General Hippokrates, trained in all forms of healing, physical and spiritual.”

Hippokrates simply snorted when he looked at me, but the Commander did not notice, and carried on.

“General Ariegeois of the Rear Guard, solid duelist.”

The red, middle-aged mare with a very short haircut raised a hoof in a disinterested greeting.

“General Strívo Paltó of the Right, my former competitor for the position as Commander.”

The words of the name sounded familiar, and I ran a quick translation in my head as the dark brown stallion sneered at me.

“Turn Coat?” I asked, “That was an unfortunate name.”

The Commander turned to me and frowned. “How so?”

“Never mind.” I shrugged, as I realized that the Pegasus tongue did not have that expression.

The Commander looked worried for a second, before he too shrugged. He pointed to the final stallion, an elderly grey pony with a white mane.
“And finally General Pallas of the Center, my trusted second-in-command and advisor to the three last Commanders.”

“An honor, Master Marlin,” Pallas said courteously with a polite bow.

The Commander tapped the table with his hoof to get everypony’s attention.
“Now that we all know each other, let us begin. Kouagka, the curtains, please?”

General Kouagka answered with a snort, but turned around and pulled a small rope hanging down from the ceiling behind him. Almost immediately heavy indigo curtains fell into place outside the pillars lining the room, transforming the bright day into a darkness kept away only by two torches by the door and a small oil lamp on the table.

Plateau unfurled the large parchment roll he had kept in his bag and revealed a beautifully detailed map of the world. I had seen maps covering wide areas before in my master’s study, of course, but this one extended farther east than any I had seen, showing cities I had only heard mentioned in stories at the local alehouse.

“Gentlecolts,” he began, “the Commander has hatched a pl-“

A loud cough interrupted him, and everypony turned to General Paltó, the one it had come from. He nodded towards me. “The unicorn.”

The Commander’s brow furrowed. “What about him?”

“You sure we should discuss anything this sensitive in the presence of an outlander… Commander?”

Everypony’s attention turned to me, and I could not help but blush a little at the attention from the high and mighty. My mouth felt all dry and refused to cooperate, but I knew that if I was ever to complete the career-making alicorn spell, I had to participate in this expedition they were planning. I had to speak in my defense before the generals could convince the Commander to leave me behind.

“You will need me!” I blurted out.

Paltó opened his mouth to come with some snide comment, but the Commander cut him short.

“I brought in Marlin to provide magic defense for the expedition, General.”

I could sense the hostility in his tone, and realized I could exploit the animosity between the two of them.

“Yes, absolutely, I will be vital to the expedition,” I quickly shot in, “any expedition eastwards would necessarily be exposed to dragons, mages, natural dangers such as rockslides, snowstorms… All kinds of dangers that cannot be effectively defended against without massive casualties, unless of course you have a unicorn master of magic with you.”

Paltó’s eyes narrowed, and he came over to me, standing uncomfortably close to me and holding my eyes with his own, bright green ones.

“You,” he simply said, his voice full of spite, “who are you to speak of casualties and defense? Do you have any military experience at all?”

“I… uhm, my father…” I began, but was cut short by his sharp laughter.

“Your father? Your father? I started training to be a warrior by the time you were still suckling your mother’s teat, you pitiful excuse of a stallion! Have our beloved Commander told you about how I saved his bony rump from an Urs-“

“ENOUGH!”

We both turned to the Commander who appeared to barely being able to contain a seething, bubbling rage.

“Get in line, Paltó,” he said in a low voice that was somehow more terrifying than yells or shouts, “or I will have you court martialed. The unicorn is going with us, and that is an order. I believe you still respect the chain of command? If so, your Commander hereby revokes your permission to speak.”

“Your f-“ Paltó began, but apparently decided to shut his mouth mid-sentence.

The Commander still noticed, though.

“My father what, Strívo?” the Commander asked, his eyes narrowing almost to the point of slits.

“Nothing, Commander…” Paltó mumbled as he found his spot at the table again.

“Good,” the Commander said, “at this hour we need to think, speak and act as one. Gentlecolts, today you will be introduced to the full scope of our plans.”

Ariegois spoke for the first time. “Just tell us already what you have been hatching in the evenings with Oropédio, Commander. I do not know about the rest of you, but this mare has inspections to make.”

The others nodded concurringly, but the Commander simply smiled at her.

“I assure you, Aria, this is worth your time.”

The mare’s nostrils widened slightly at the mention of “Aria”, causing me to suspect that it was something she was called in private, and certainly not in front of the Supreme General Staff.

“What?” she said in a sulky tone.

The Commander gave his widest smile and looked around the room with a triumphant face.

“As you all know, our food supply situation is growing more critical with each passing year. Pegasopolis is dependent on food imports from the earth ponies’ realm. This greatly limits our strategic independence, and is not positive for our economy. And, with the mysterious increase in the length of winters up there in the north, their production of grain is sinking, rapidly.”

Silence fell over the room as each of the generals considered possible solutions to the problem, but the Commander had apparently just taken a pause for dramatic effect, because he drew his breath and continued.
“Just a few months ago, Pallas warned me that at the current rate of worsening winters, not only will the earth ponies’ production of grain and vegetables be negligible within two decades, our own production will feel the smart of winter as well. Starvation for large strata of the population will follow shortly thereafter. Our economy and military might will be crippled. Not to mention that the population will have our heads on poles.”

Everypony present looked visibly pale, except Kouagka, who looked directly at the commander with a frown.

“Which leaves us with two options,” Kouagka said, “we attack the other ponies and take their food, which would make us hugely unpopular and possibly spawn an alliance that would doom this city…”

Now Areigois was following the train of thoughts as well. “…or we conquer new farmland in the east.”

Hippokrates frowned. “Where? All the lands are either vassals of or part of…”

“You want us to attack the Horthine Hegemony directly.” Pallas stated, having found the logical outcome of these thoughts before Hippokrates.

I had already heard about this several weeks earlier from Plateau, of course, but I had not expected the visible shock the generals’ faces showed. I knew virtually nothing about the Hegemony save the name, but apparently it was nothing to be trifled with.

“Exactly. It is Master Oropédio and my opinion that by marching directly on Horthium, we can..” the Commander had time to say before the protests started.

“Silence,” the Commander demanded, “one at a time. Íppo, you first.”

“With all due respect, Commander,” the Admiral began, “I assume you will want the entire army across. We will have to mobilize the entire fleet for transport, leaving Pegasopolis exposed from an attack from the sea.”

“Pegasopolis will have to do without a sea defense for a few days, Admiral,” the Commander stated, “I am sure you will handle the situation here perfectly while the rest of us are gone.”

Íppo mumbled something about being left to drift by a bunch of landlubbers, but the Commander did not notice and gave the word to
Kouagka.
“Commander, the Horthinians outnumber us thirty to one. How are we supposed to beat them?”

“Leave that to me.” The Commander smiled.

“Wait, what about the supply situation?” Hippokrates asked, “The train would be enormous!”

“There will be no need for a supply train,” the Commander answered, “we will bring with us enough supplies for four months. By that time we should be feasting in the Horthine palace.”

“And what if we are not, Commander?” Paltó asked with a bitter tone.

The Commander ignored him. “Listen, everypony, I am not asking you about the feasibility of this operation, I am asking you to execute it. I find your lack of faith disturbing, my subordinates.”

Pallas sighed. “But Alexálogo, there is no way we would be able to keep this secret for the eight weeks it will take to mobilize in full force.”

The Commander looked unaffected. “No problem. We will leave tomorrow evening.”

I thought I could spot a little smile in his serious face at the “WHAT?” from the room. The only one not looking confused was Ariegois. The mare looked like she had just realized something.
“The army and navy has been mobilized since yesterday,” she said, “while you all were busy with the joint exercise the last few weeks the Commander ordered me to mobilize quietly, without informing you when you returned.”

The incredulous looks from the dumbfounded generals appeared to amuse the Commander greatly.

“Dismissed,” he said, “I will discuss the details separately tomorrow.”

Then he disappeared out the door with no further ado, leaving a silent room. Well, silent for a few seconds.

“He is moonstruck!” Hippokrates said.

“This is exactly what I warned you about,” said Paltó, “when you approved him getting the position. You should never have ratified his father’s movement to appoint him as his successor. We are becoming a veritable monarchy!”

Kouagka, who had gotten a divan from somewhere, presumably outside the curtains, laughed as he lay down on it. “At least you will not have to worry about heirs, Paltó.”

Paltó spotted my curious look, and grinned. “The unicorn does not know about our Commander’s… tastes, Kouagka.”

Kouagka rolled his eyes and looked at me. “You know that assistant of his, Bukefalos? Well, Alexálogo keeps him around just because he takes it u-“

“Kouagka!” Pallas said loudly, so as if to remind him of something.

“Let him speak, you old goat!” Paltó said, sparking an argument between him and Pallas.

Meanwhile Kouagka made a suggestive movement with a hoof while Pallas was not looking, illustrating what he had been about to say.
Plateau pulled me aside as the generals’ argument heated. “Maybe you should head back to the taverna, ‘Marlin’.”

27th day, 7th moon, 17th year of the reign

My apologies for ending the last entry so abruptly. I went downstairs to get an ale, when… well…

“What do you mean you ‘don’t serve my kind’?”

My voice was perhaps a little louder than expected, as I suddenly found myself the center of attention in the room.

“I mean,” the bartender stated in a faux-concerned voice, with a tone as if talking to a foal, “that this is a respectable establishment that does not serve useless drifters like your race.”

“My race?” I fumed, “I have a room upstairs and you served my companion and me ale, without ever protesting!”

“It was different. Then you were with one of the most respected stallions in this city.”

I felt both embarrassed and enraged to be treated like this in front of the other patrons.

“I demand equal treatment!” I protested, but now the other pegasi started calling out.

“Yer kind do not demand anythin’ from us, outlander!”

“Throw’m out already, ‘Tend!”

“Ya un’cons ain’t good for nuthin’ but beggin’ for yer life in front of our h…”

The room fell silent as somepony entered. It was a yellow mare, very young, little more than a filly, but still carrying the uniform of the Commander’s personal guard. I recognized her vaguely as one of the guards from the palace earlier. The uniform appeared to instill respect in the patrons, who suddenly appeared to calm down.

She walked over to my side. “He is with me, Kairos. Any problems with that?”

The bartender shook his head furiously. “No, not at all, Pansy.”

“Good,” she stated with disinterest, “get us two tankards with cider, would you?”

“Of course, Pansy.” He said, and disappeared behind a door down to the cellar.

We both sat down, by an empty table and I patiently waited for her to say something. After the bartender reemerged and placed two foaming tankards of high-alcohol cider in front of us in return for four copper coins from Pansy, I decided to break the awkward silence.

“I… Uh, I thank you, guard, for what you did earlier.”

She shrugged and took a deep sip of her cider.
“Nothing, really. Just doing my job, keeping the peace.”

She fell silent again, and I could not help but notice she kept her orange mane long, the first uniformed female I had seen here without the gender-neutral short cut.

“It is… uhm… Unusual for me to see so many mares in armor. Even one of your generals is female!” I tried again.

“I really cannot see why mares should not be allowed to serve if they pass the bar and so wishes.” She said with the usual disinterest, but now I thought I could hear a slightly irritated undertone.

“Speaking of military service, you seem quite young for a soldier?” I dared continue in the hopes of keeping the conversation going.

“Sixteen,” she said, “military family. After I was born, my father decided to become a farmer instead, because it was safer. I guess he did not know how fate has a sense of irony. When I was fifteen, bandits broke into my family’s farm. My father resisted, and was killed, my mother ended up in a state of shock she never recovered from, and my two sisters…”

She put down the tankard and showed genuine emotion, pain, for the first time.
“…they did… things to my sisters. I killed my first stallion that day.”

The young mare looked me directly in the eye, and I could see some faint trace of burning hatred in her gaze. I could not help but feel something was… off about this conversation. As if she was opening up too fast.

“The other five of them would have killed me for sure, but then… The door was flung open and three stallions came in, quickly dispatching the bandits. Turned out the Prince was just passing by and heard the commo…”

“Wait,” I interrupted, “the Prince? I thought Pegasopolis was ruled by a military junta.”

She gave me a wry smile. “It used to be the nickname of Commander Alexálogo, when he was still just the son of the old Commander. He felt sorry for us and helped us find a home. To provide for my family I decided to take a job in the military, and so, here I am.”

Both of us appeared more comfortable now, so I dared question her, having chalked her sudden segue into personal subjects up to a lack of conversational partners.

“You just signed up like that without any second thought?”

She tried, unsuccessfully, to conjure up her disinterested facial expression, but could not help but blush a little.
“I admit I… felt a need to see the dashing young military stallion who saved me. This was of course before I knew he was…”

She glanced quickly around the crowded room and appeared to decide to keep her mouth shut.

“Anyway,” she continued, just a little too loud, “while I was going through boot camp the old Commander died, and a few weeks later Alexálogo showed up at our camp, looking for the most promising young soldiers for his personal guard. I was not one of the recommended ones, but he recognized me and hoof-picked me. I suppose he figured I would be loyal, considering our history.”

She resumed her drinking, and I could not help but study her soft, unintimidating looks.
“You do not strike me as a typical soldier, despoinída…”

I could not recall a name to follow the Pegasus word for “miss”, but she understood.

“Pansy,” she laughed, “Private Pansy. And I know your name, Marlin. I was actually sent to retrieve you, the Commander wishes to speak to you. And I assure you, if I wanted to, I could kill you seven different ways right where you sit.”

I rolled my eyes. “Suuure.”

Pansy raised an eyebrow. “I reach over with my front hooves and smash your head in the table repeatedly, I could jump over and puncture your eyeball with my hoof, pushing until I reach the brain, I could hook you over under the table and then stomp your brains across the floor, I could break…”

I raised a hoof. “Okay, I believe you. That is quite enough. Did you say the Commander wished to speak to me?”

She nodded. “Follow me.”

I left my untouched tankard behind at the table.

We took another route to the palace than the one I had taken with Plateau the same morning, leaving the bustling streets behind us for a maze of narrow back alleys where I would have been completely lost without my companion.

“Say,” she said as we rounded a corner, “I have heard some rumors that we will be going out on a military expedition soon. You know anything about that?”

I figured that the Commander would probably not like me sharing the details of a Supreme General Staff meeting with any who asked, even if it was just one of his personal guards.

“No, sorry,” I said, “I do not think I should tell anypony who asks.”

She laughed. “So you do not trust me. Afraid I am a spy, perchance?”

I blushed a little. “No, nothing personal. I just think the Commander would prefer this left between us.”

“Come on, tell me!” she tried, the tone of a curious teenager shining through the professional voice of the soldier.

“No. No means no, Pansy.”

She stopped for a second and shrugged.
“Well, no need for me to keep nagging…” she said, and started walking again, whistling a wistful tune as we trotted along.

Just seconds later the whistle ended with a whimper. I whirled around and got a glimpse of a hoof being held by… somepony in front of her mouth, before my head was jerked backwards, strong hooves locked around me and a burlap sack was pulled down over my face.

The room smelled like mold and urine, with a distinct iron-y taste to the air which I guessed was blood. Somewhere behind me a rather large pony, probably a stallion, was pacing back and forth. The burn of the lengths of rope was gone from my legs, so I guessed I had been untied. This, and more, I perceived as my other senses desperately tried to make up for the lack of sight.

With a sudden swish all of the world erupted into bright light, blinding me and giving the feeling of burning sensations extending into my very mind.

“Time to talk, worthless son of a mule!” a voice thundered from somewhere in the ether.

I could not decide what to answer, but the shock and pain of a hoof hitting me in the face shortly thereafter made me realize that it was probably in my best interest to answer the voice’s questions.

“I said; time to talk, maggot!” the voice commanded again.

I realized now that the bright light was just a lamp placed on a table right in front of me. It only seemed strong because of the two- or three-hour period I had spent in total darkness before my kidnappers returned.

“About what?” I spat out. I could now get a better look at my assailants. They were all wearing armor, helmets to boot, and with bronze retractable battle-masks covering their faces with horrifying, lifeless expressions.

“It does not serve you well playing stupid,” the one who were talking to me said, his eyes boring into through the openings in the mask, “The plans. Where will the Commander attack?”

I felt the tingle of fear crawl up my spine, but at the same time some obstinate part of me would not tell these strangers anything.

“I know nothing,” I said, “and even if I did, I would not tell you.”

My interrogator seemed unaffected. “Wrong answer.” He simply stated, before hitting me hard enough to send me flying onto my right flank.

He leaned down next to me. “Now, let us try again. Where?”

I used a hoof to dry a little blood from the corner of my mouth, and gave him a long answer in Unicornian, involving his mother and five goats.

Panic rolled over me as he turned his head to his right and looked at another kidnapper, who translated. My interrogator looked at me for a few seconds before nodding to two of his comrades.

They slammed me up against a wall, pinning me to it as my interrogator, who I could now see was a pegasus, used his wing to pick up something from a little fire that was burning in a metal fixture on the floor.

I swallowed deeply as the red-hot poker hovered right in front of my muzzle. Its glow was almost hypnotic.

“Where?” he sneered.

Finally fear coursed through me, but my mind still had the wherewithal to use my last option save telling him what he wanted.

“I am not who you think I am.”

“We know very well who you are, Marlin,” he scoffed.

I pulled my gaze away from the poker and looked him in the eye.

“Marlin died two years ago. My name is Starswirl.”

My interrogator turned and exchanged glances with one of the others, who nodded once.

The poker was put back, to my relief, but the interrogator span around and hit me in the stomach with his hoof instead.
“Who sent you? Are you a spy sent by the unicorns? An assassin?!”

He punctuated each sentence with a hit to my stomach. I cringed with pain, and in a state of panic I could no longer keep silent.
“Plateau- I mean Oropédio, he told me to come along anyway. I used to be Marlin’s apprentice, so he thought I could do the same thing, given my proficiency with magic and my knowledge of him! I swear!”

My interrogator fell silent for a long while, seemingly pondering my answer.

“All right then,” he said, “Starswirl, where will the Commander attack?”

I cursed inside when I realized that having the wrong pony would not matter to them as long as he knew what they wanted to hear from him, and that my chances of surviving this were minute. I only had one thing to do.

“From the north,” I said, trying to look as defeated as possible, “he will march the army north and hit the Horthine Hegemony in the weak flank, pushing through to the capital.”

I prayed silently that my knowledge of geography and educated guesses about the borders of the Horthine Hegemony were close enough to the truth.

“Thank you for your cooperation…” my interrogator sneered, and signaled to his comapnions to stop holding me, “… but do remember that if you cross us, your death will be slower and more painful than if you tell the truth. Are you certain there is nothing more you have… forgotten?”

“Yes,” I said, holding my head high and looking him in the eyes, “nothing mo-“

I stopped mid-sentence, as I had seen one of the other kidnappers in the background shuffle a little around, giving me a glimpse of a long mane of a distinct shade in the low light of the lamp, sticking out between the edge of the helmet and the armor.

“Pansy?” I asked, “Are you in on this?”

“Uh-oh.” My interrogator said, taking a step back. Now I realized he, too, was wearing one of the Pegasopolian military armors, not one that could have been priavately purchased. In fact, all of them wore Pegasopolian armor, some of them with the armor of the Commander’s personal guard.

“Is this a consp-“ I started, but a laughter rung through the room from one of the kidnappers.

“You got us, Starswirl. Let him go, Tzatziki, he can come with me. Pansy too, by the way.”

I recognized the voice a second before the laughing kidnapper lifted up his hinged mask to reveal a smiling Commander.

The Commander’s personal quarters looked much like the rest of the palace; bare and without a lot of furniture, save the odd divan and table. I was still shaking a little when a female servant pulled a clean toga over my sweat-stained coat. Pansy had removed her mask and stood by my side tripping, visibly uncomfortable.

The Commander took off his armor and handed it to the servant.

“Starswirl,” he said, “why the deception? Why did you not immediately tell me your true identity?”

“I-I thought you… you would not bring me th-then.” I stammered, “Bu-but back there, those ponies could have… why did you do this to me?”

“To test you…” he stopped and motioned to the servant that she should leave the room, “…to see if you could throw interrogators off track. While the whole secret identity thing threw us off our balance, otherwise you performed as well as one could ever hope from a civilian. You resisted Pansy’s seemingly harmless inquiry, and the guards she signaled, trained interrogators. Real ones would probably apply a little more torture, though, so make sure to stick to your initial story.”

I still did not understand, but the Commander diverted his attention to Pansy.
“Private, I need you for an important mission. For the duration of the upcoming expedition you will be assigned to various guard duties in the proximity of the generals. I wish you to keep an eye on their movements and report any suspicious activity in regards to my personal safety. I trust I have your complete discretion in regards to this matter?”

Pansy nodded.

“Good,” the Commander continued, “you will not report to me directly, but Starswirl here. Keep referring to him as ‘Marlin’, no reason to anger the generals more. Have I made myself clear?”

“Understood, Commander.” Pansy said, and trotted off as the Commander dismissed her.

Now I understood. “You want me, an outsider, to be your spymaster…”

“…because if the generals are up to no good, somepony with no vested interest in the city…” the Commander continued.

“… is the only pony you could trust.” I finished.

“Exactly,” he said, “I believe one or more in the Supreme General Staff wants me dead and to take my position. They are not happy that my father on his deathbed appointed his young son to take over as Commander, not one of them as tradition would be. Especially Strívo Paltó worries me, he was the one originally intended to get the position. So I need ponies I can trust and that I know can keep a secret.”

I massaged a bruised cheek. “Was the beating rally necessary, though?”

“It had to feel realistic. No worries, Tzatziki knows what he is doing. You will not get any marks or anything that can reveal what you went through. You should just… Oh, Bukefalos, have you got what I asked for?”

I turned and saw that the Commander’s assistant had appeared in the door, balancing a tray with several bowls on his wings.
“Yes sir, bread, fried vegetables and spicy oils to dip them in…” he went over to a table on the room’s large veranda, and set down the tray there, next to two divans. The Commander gestured towards one, and I sat down on it while he did the same on the other.

“…and I found the perfect candidate for the position we talked about, Commander.” Bukefalos finished, ”Barely passed the bar, clawed her way through boot camp and got promoted to corporal purely through pulling of strings from her high-ranking uncle. And even better, she is shy and does almost never speak to strangers even if talked to.”

The Commander took a piece of carrot from a bowl and dipped it in oil, then chewing thoughtfully on it.

“By Luna, she sounds perfect,” he mumbled through the chewing, “is she here?”

Bukefalos nodded. “Should I bring her in?”

The Commander gave a single nod as an answer, prompting Bukefalos to exit the room. He returned together with a cyan-colored mare in hoof-soldier armor. She was trembling visibly enough that a short lock of sand-colored mane fell in front of her face.

“Corporal Anemostróvilos, called ‘Vilos’ for short, Commander” Bukefalos presented.

“Hurricane?” I asked the Commander, wondering if I got the translation right, something his affirmative nod confirmed.
The Corporal stood frozen in the spot and was blushing visibly. I realized she was not remaining silent out of discipline, she was simply too scared to open her mouth.

“Corporal, I need you to do something very important for me.” the Commander said, causing her to fix her panicky eyes on him.

The Commander looked her directly in the eye. “I need you to stay around the generals the next few months. Tell Marlin here if you hear anything out of the usual. Do you think you can do that for me, Vilos?”

Hurricane whispered something in Bukefalos’ ear.

“She is willing, sir.” Bukefalos said.

“Good,” said the Commander, “take her back to the barracks and tell her the details on the way.”

Bukefalos nodded, and the two of them disappeared. I shot the Commander an inquisitive stare.

“She is the real spy,” he explained, “Pansy is way too obvious, the generals will never reveal anything around her. But nopony will expect this bumbling foal to be anything else.”

“Ingenious, Commander.” I stated, but was surprised by his disapproving grimace.

“Drop the ‘Commander’ here in private, Starswirl. You can call me ‘Alex’, it is probably easier to remember for you than Alexálogo.”

“If you say so, Alex.”

He snorted. “Come on, loosen up. Have some food,” he gestured towards the table, “and tell me why you are so interested in joining this expedition.”

I used my magic to pick out some tasty-looking vegetables.

“Are you familiar with spells that change the appearance of something, Alex?”

“To a point, yes, quite a lot of the unicorns around change the appearance of things they sell to look newer than they are.” he answered.

“Well…” I continued, “the problem is that such spells consume large amounts of energy, and only last for a few hours or days. Now I believe I have found a way to permanently enhance the body size, strength and magical ability of a pony. If I increase a pony’s magic field by soaking the pony’s body with magic, the pony’s inherent magic will power the spell indefinitely. But I need to combine several magic fields for this to work, so I need special focusing crystals.”

The Commander thought about this for a minute. “I suppose you think you can find the right stones on our journey.”

“Exactly,” I said, “they should be in a ruined town known as Ponitthaya.”

“And what exact effect would this spell have?”

“Unrivalled magic abilities and nigh-conquest of death. Anypony exposed would virtually become a god.”

The Commander chuckled. “I could use a god or two in my army. I’ll see what I can do for you on the expedition. Perhaps you may get lucky. What gave you this crazy idea?”

“Well, you see, one day I was with my Master in the forest, when suddenly…”

28th day, 7th moon, 17th year of the reign

I have spent all day preparing for my journey. I swear to Celestia, if I hear one more “You tryin’ a’steal, un’con?” I will strangle the first shopkeeper I meet. At least I will be at sea soon. The Commander told me the journey would take roughly two days in good wind, and I got the privilege of a cabin, or more of an enclosed hammock, rather, on Admiral Íppo’s personal ship. Plateau told me he would not be coming due to his old age, so I am alone on his one. Hopefully we can complete our journey quickly and without many further problems.

Suuuure.