Contest of Champions

by thatguyvex

Chapter 8: A Gathering of Shadows

Chapter 8: A Gathering of Shadows

Many years ago...

Ink skies bled lightning from boiling clouds that suffocated the vast mountains that surrounded the Imperial Palace. Rain fell in needle sheets, as if they could wash away the sprawling, regal roofs that had stood upon these heights for centuries, as if the heavens themselves took umbrage at the palace’s presumption of being placed at the same height as them.

Within the silken draped hallways in the maze like sprawl of carved wood a black form flew upon rapid running talons, nearly taking wing in his haste. Kenkuro breathed hard, rain water still sluicing off his charcoal feathers, having soaked his kimono so it clung to him like a needy lover. He was barely able to get a gulp of air in, and not even bothering to pause to exchange any of his normal pleasantries with the servants or guards he swept by.

He had flown for nearly two days straight, leaving the north Tiger Province the moment a swift air spirit messenger had imparted the news to him that the Empress had gone into labor. Having just arrived at the Palace he’d proceeded straight to the Empress’ personal chambers, where he knew she would be. He wasn’t certain if he was in time, but the Empress had ordered his presence and he knew Fu Ling did nothing without purpose, so she must have wanted him here for a reason beyond just moral support... although he would have been fine with that. He knew she had tried hard for a long time to conceive, and that her supposedly barren nature had been one of the most closely guarded affairs that never left the Palace.

Kenkuro had been present the day Fu Ling had confirmed with her personal physician that she was with foal and it was one of the very rare moments he’d ever seen the Empress’s face be graced with a genuine smile.

Like a shadowed wind he flowed swiftly into the grand hall that led to the Empress’ chambers, a steep set of large steps gilded in emerald cloth and flanked by the golden statues of the Heavenly Empire’s past rulers, all staring down with judging metallic eyes. Kenkuro held back a shiver, having always thought it a poor choice of decoration. It was impossible to rule the Empire and even go to one’s own bed without having to pass under the judgmental gaze of your forebears. Such fun.

He was bothered by the general silence as he rose up the stairs. Even with sound dampened walls he imagined he ought to hear some noise from a mare in labor. Was he too late? A veritable army of guards awaited him at the large landing at the top of the stairs in front of huge, thick doors carved in the shape of a regal dragon’s head, its open maw encompassing a smaller portal that could allow easier access to the chambers beyond.

Ceremonial armor made a cascade of soft rustles as the guards moved as one to block Kenkuro’s path. He may have been instantly recognizable to each and every set of eyes among these guards, many of which he’d instructed himself, but protocol was protocol. None could be permitted entry to the Empress’ personal chambers without submitting to inspection. The proper words of challenge and identification were exchanged, Kenkuro not even paying mind to the words as he went through the motions as smoothly as a stone that had traversed the same brook for decades.

The guards must have been under instructions to speed things along for the process of inspection went much faster than proper, but soon enough Kenkuro was sent through the smaller door within the dragon’s mouth, its finely carved wooden teeth brushing the crest of his head, as if he were being swallowed whole.

The chambers of the Empress of the Heavenly Empire was a gold and jade ocean of the finest luxuries the pinnacle efforts an entire continent with several millennia of glorious civilization behind it could produce. The wall reflected light from brilliant emerald crystals that magically suffused every facet of the room with brilliance. Thick silk carpets felt like air on Kenkuro’s feet, infused, he knew, with cloud thread from the grandest gardens across the Empire. Not a single piece of furniture lacked intricate gold filigree patterned by the greatest artists from the thirteen great Provinces, each elegant chair, table, or couch a piece of masterful art in and of itself, any one of which was worth more than some lesser noble’s entire mansions.

Kenkuro moved past it all as if it was no more than an inn’s common room, passing the living area and to the tall ivory doors to the bedchambers. He paused, however, as these doors opened at his approach and to his shock the Empress, Fu Ling, strode out.

Her body was sweat soaked, her face strained and ashen, her normally immaculate raven black mane damp and ruffled, and there was a clear weakness to her steps that was at odds with the mare Kenkuro had known since she was in swaddling and had always held herself with iron cold strength and poise.

“Fu Ling,” he breathed, forgetting protocol, or rather not caring, “Should you be walking? The foal...?”

His question was answered by the sharp, shrill cries of a newborn foal wafting from the bedchambers. Kenkuro could not see the child, but she sounded like she was healthy, if the strength of the cries was any indication. That much filled him with relief, but why was the Empress already up and walking?

“Kenkuro. Good, you’re here,” Fu Ling said, and Kenkuro could hear the exhaustion in her voice, more than he’d ever heard before, “Please, sit down. Have some tea... there should be some around here somewhere.”

Kenkuro took a brief look at his soaked body, but a look sharper than any blade entered Fu Ling’s eyes, a portion of herself returning through her exhausted state, and Kenkuro took a seat on one of the least expensive looking chairs. Fu Ling, barely hiding a limp, went to an opposite chair, moved to sit, winced and seemed to think better of it and remained standing. The foal’s wails continued, though Kenkuro could now see past the open doors to the bedchamber that Fu Ling’s physician and one of her most trusted maidservants was in there, tending to the bundle in silk wrapped cloth. He couldn’t see the foal, just the bundle, but the maid was carrying the foal in a gentle magic aura, cooing to it.

He looked back at Fu Ling, “Is everything alright, Empress? The foal is well?”

Fu Ling let out a long, slow sigh, like from a pierced lung, “She is... healthy. Very healthy. Rincao assures me there is nothing wrong with her.”

Her. So it had happened, the daughter that Fu Ling had so strongly desired was born at long last. Kenkuro knew better than most how long and hard Fu Ling had worked to be able to conceive a foal of her own. So why did the Empress look so nervous and seemed to be intentionally not looking back at her newborn? Kenkuro spoke with cautiousness in his voice. After all, as Tien Zhu had once written, ‘When you don’t know where the tiger is, walk as if you were a mouse.’

“Then all is well, yes? Should you not hold your daughter, spend a night or two at rest with her? Surely there will be a great celebration as all of the Heavenly Empire rejoices at the birth of the new Imperial Heir-”

“She is not the heir, yet,” said Fu Ling sharply, causing Kenkuro to halt mid-word. He stared at her, the Empress’ eyes glittering under the crystal light.

“Fu Ling...?”

She drew in a deep breath, a tremble running through her shoulders, “Kenkuro, I want you to listen. Do nothing but listen to me, carefully. I will not declare this child to be my heir just yet. Do not quote protocol to me, I know the laws of this land better than any, and it is within my right as Empress to postpone declaring an heir until I see fit. It may not be commonly done, not for centuries, but it can be done. This... child, shall be raised as a member of the Imperial Family, as youngest daughter behind Tomoko and Xhua.”

“But they are adopted, this foal is your own blood-”

“I said LISTEN!,” Fu Ling said, voice raising in time with the thunderstorm that raged outside the Palace walls, “...Listen, Kenkuro. I want you to be this foal’s protector and mentor. Do not give me that look, and do not question, this is my order as your Empress. She is your charge now. You are to watch her as she grows, teach her everything you know, but do not coddle her! Test her, push her, ensure she becomes strong. I shall be inspecting your progress with her closely as the years pass, and do not doubt I shall be testing her as well.”

Fu Ling’s voice was strained and tight, as if the words she was speaking were being torn out one by one by sheer force of will.

Kenkuro felt like his head was being put in a vice and he suppressed the urge to rub it with a wing as a headache came on, “I understand the orders, but not your intent. Fu Ling, this is your daughter, not a prized racing hound! Tien Zhu wrote-”

“Tien Zhu can go sit on a pike and keep his philosophical musings out of this discussion,” snapped Fu Ling, fixing Kenkuro with a gaze of jade fire, “And I don’t have to explain myself to you, either.”

“I am the Blade of Heaven,” he reminded her, steel entering his own voice finally, “I am the only one you do have to explain yourself to. Talk to me, Fu Ling, please. Why are you doing this? Have you not always wanted a daughter? You sound as if you don’t even want to have her as a part of your life!”

It was a flash, like lightning, but pain was in the Empress’ eyes. It was gone just as fast as her face became its emerald mask of royal control. “What I want is a worthy heir, one who can protect the Empire and keep it strong. What I want is for my Blade to obey his Empress’ order and train, mold, and protect what may be the Empire’s greatest chance at a bright future. What I want...”

She paused, and finally her eyes moved, sliding towards the bed chambers, to rest upon the bundled form which had finally gone quiet under the maidservant’s tender care. Fu Ling’s lips quivered for a second, then went still as she looked away, “...is for her to never know about this conversation. You will swear to me, Kenkuro, that no matter what you will never speak to her of this, or the role I have charged you with. Pretend your interest in her is merely your own prerogative and no more. Am I understood?”

There was a long pause as heavy as a mountain before Kenkuro let out a sigh and nodded, “As you wish, my Empress. I swear my oath to you that I will never speak of this to her, or anyone else for as long as I draw breath.”

He saw tension flow out of Fu Ling as if a dam had burst, and she slumped onto a chair, “Thank you Kenkuro.”

The maidservant, a short and stocky pink kirin, followed by Rincao, a onyx black unicorn with an equally shadowy mane and metallic silver eyes, entered the chambers. The physician bowed to both Kenkuro and Fu Ling, calm and dour looking as always.

“Empress, I shall return in the morning to see that you are recovering properly, yes?” said Rincao, one of the few besides Kenkuro who could speak so informally to Fu Ling. Kenkuro was unclear as to the unicorn’s origins, other than that he had gained a rapid reputation as the Empire’s most skilled healer and as a result had been invited to Fu Ling’s court several years ago.

Fu Ling waved a hoof at him without looking up, “Yes, yes, Rin, you can poke and prod at me in the morning. I just gave birth, not singled hoofedly invaded the Dark Lands. Mares do this everyday.”

“They also die from it everyday,” said Rincao coldly, “Take the medicine I have provided and do not stray far from your chambers. Internal bleeding can be fatal to Empress or commoner alike.”

He turned and bowed to Kenkuro, then exited the chamber. The maidservant remained behind, waiting the pleasure of her Empress’ orders. Kenkuro couldn’t help but gaze curiously at the silk swaddled bundle in the servant’s grip. Fu Ling noticed this and said, “Mao, you may show her to Kenkuro here.”

The maidservant, Mao, bowed and floated the bundle close to Kenkuro. He gulped, looking down at the squirming form within the folds of fine white cloth. His heart beat oddly faster, as he realized that he’d be responsible for this young, new life’s well being for a long, long time. He’d never had children of his own, at least, none that he was aware of. Then again, he spent so little time among his own kind, the tengu. Most of his liaisons had been with various willing equines across the Empire, for which no offspring could be born.

So he rarely was close to foals, let alone newborns. This one looked normal enough. A tiny, round green face like fresh cut grass looked up at him, silver button eyes looking up at him with wide-eyed curiosity. A tuft of golden mane like a yellow creampuff sprouted from the newborn’s head, and a stubby ivory pair of kirin horns poked upwards from her brow. Kenkuro wondered who the father was. Fu Ling had, in her pursuit of a child, taken many a consort to her bed. He supposed it didn’t matter which stallion’s seed had led to this foal, only that she was here, and now his charge.

“What is her name?” he found himself asking, still staring down at the foal’s surprisingly intelligent looking eyes.

----------

“Dao Ming...” Kenkuro found himself saying, sitting next to her unconscious form as it lay upon a large bed within a stone chamber deep within the tunnels of the Order of Legend’s monastery. Her emerald coat seemed almost waxen with sweat, but her breathing was even and the healers had already informed him that she would likely wake soon. Kenkuro could not have been more thankful for that, for he imagined the Order’s healers had no true notion of how close Dao Ming had come to paying a much higher price than mere exhaustion.

Angering a higher spirit such as Raijin could have crippled her for life. He still could not believe she’d gone so far, risked so much, for the purpose of trying to cow the Equestrian champions. No, there was more to it than that. Kenkuro knew that Dao Ming’s pride was vast, but it was only to conceal a desperate need for the recognition of her mother. When Trixie had used Fu Ling’s image against Dao Ming in such a blatant manner it wasn’t surprising Dao Ming had only responded by upping the ante further.

Kenkuro didn’t know how the rest of the Grand Melee had turned out, as he’d taken Dao Ming off the field immediately after he’d used Kusanagi to ward off Raijin’s wrath, if only barely. He patted the hilt of the blade with the familiarity of a long time partner. It was rare he had cause to draw the sword, but at least when he did have reason he could use it for a good reason; protecting the champions of Equestria and Dao Ming both.

A soft murmur escaped Dao Ming’s lips and she stirred, eyes slowly fluttering open. Kenkuro could see the tension spring into her body and put a wing out to hold her down just as Dao Ming started to spring up, gently but firmly pressing her back into the bed. “Please, remain still, my lady. You must rest.”

“Kenkuro!? What...?” Dao Ming remained tense, but didn’t try to rise, instead looking around herself in confusion, “How did I get to this place? The Grand Melee!? The spirit chant...”

Her eyes slowly widened, silver eyes filling with strained memory. “Raijin. I lost control.”

Kenkuro felt a sting in his heart as he watched her face twist up in momentary fear and self-reproach before she forced her expression to one of stillness, her voice rigid with unsteady calm, “Did I hurt anyone?”

He let out a small sigh of relief, “Thankfully, no. The Equestrian champions were unharmed.”

“How?” Dao Ming asked, “Raijin took control of the spell from me, forced the Tenrai no Shiniyari to be aimed straight for them! I saw Dame Trixie and Lyra erect shields, but they couldn’t possibly have been strong enough to withstand...” she trailed off as she looked at Kenkuro, a spark of memory flashing in her eyes as her eyes settled on his sword, “Ah... Kusanagi...”

She seemed to deflate in on herself, laughing in a helpless manner, “Thank you, Kenkuro. At least the Empire won’t have to endure the shame of its champion accidentally slaying her fellow champions because she couldn’t control a single spell.”

“A spell no single mare should have been able to summon in the first place, let alone control,” he said, squeezing her shoulder both affectionately and a little admonishingly, “What were you thinking, girl, pulling such a stunt?”

He could see her expression close up, like the closing doors of a fortress gatehouse, “It doesn’t matter. I’ve failed, and will face the consequences without making excuse. Where are the... where are Dame Trixie and her companions? I owe them an apology before anything else.”

“You owe no such thing,” said the crips, imperious voice of Empress Fu Ling as the doors to the infirmary opened wide before her and she strode in with long, confident steps. Behind her followed Tomoko, Xhua, and Lo Shang, each of Dao Ming’s adopted siblings with varying looks of concern. Kenkuro stood and bowed to the Empress as she approached with the other members of the Imperial Family.

“Empress...” he said, meeting Fu Ling’s eyes. They were as impenetrable to him as a wall of ice, and he felt a pang of long running regret. How had he lost her trust? When had he stopped being able to see how she was feeling just by a glance? At some point they had gone from friends who held each other’s confidence to... whatever it was they were now.

“Mother!” Dao Ming sat up, then flinched at the sharp look from the Empress and she quickly amended herself, “My Empress... I... I must apologize.”

Dao Ming’s voice was wracked with guilt and pain but she forced the words out as if a soldier forcing a march while wounded, “I have shamed you, myself, and the Empire through my actions. I accept all punishment, but request that I be, at least, allowed to offer a formal apology to the Dames whose lives I put needlessly in danger-”

“Enough.”

Fu Ling’s single, hard word cut Dao Ming off, causing the young kirin to go silent and stare at the Empress. Fu Ling looked at her daughter with a shrewd expression, face framed by waves of her black mane like twin shadows. To Kenkuro’s surprise there was a small upward turn to Fu Ling’s lips, the tiniest of smiles, and her voice seemed to almost soften.

“There will be no need for such an apology, for you have done nothing wrong... daughter.”

That one word had an immediate effect on Dao Ming, causing quickened breath and for her to grip the sheets of her bed, probably without realizing it by Kenkuro’s guess. Dao Ming blinked several times rapidly, then seemed to shake herself out of a daze as she said, “I don’t understand, mo...my Empress. I surely overstepped the intended bounds of the Grand Melee, and lost control for all to see! I fell unconscious, and I cannot imagine that by doing so I placed well in the Contest's opening event. How have I not horribly shamed you and the entire Empire, and how could I not owe an apology to the mares I nearly got killed? I’m sorry, I don’t meant to question you my Empress, but I don’t understand.”

“It is quite simple,” Fu Ling said, voice rapidly regaining its sharp edge, “You never intended to unleash the power of Raijin upon the Equestrians, who I remind you challenged you six upon one in a fair duel in which you readily matched them until one of the honorless rats stole my image to dishonorably take you by surprise. I do not blame you for the blow you took, Dao Ming. To steal the visage of the Empress... hmph, this Trixie Lulamoon has gall beyond imagining, and will pay for it in due time. Regardless, even when faced with such treacherous tactics you stood tall, and revealed your superiority to those so-called ‘champions’ Equestria has fielded.”

Fu Ling’s smile deepened, but not in a way that Kenkuro found he much liked. It was a proud smile to be sure, almost as if Fu Ling was indeed prideful of Dao Ming’s accomplishment, but there was a feverish nature to that smile that unsettled him.

“Summoning Raijin impressed me, Dao Ming. It was a feat of great power, a proper way to demonstrate to all those witnessing this Contest that the Heavenly Empire’s champion is one who surpasses all others.” The Empress’ eyes narrowed slightly, and Kenkuro saw Dao Ming flinch, “Falling unconscious was unfortunate but hardly surprising for having performed a feat never before accomplished by a single spirit chanter. Furthermore you and Kenkuro gained so many tokens before falling that the Empire ranked fourth place in the Grand Melee. I have no doubt you will make up that lost ground in the other parts of the Contest... correct?”

Shock seemed to freeze Dao Ming’s face for a moment before giving way to tempered control, “I shall do as my Empress commands, but if I may ask details... who were the other placing champions?”

Kenkuro saw Fu Ling’s nose wrinkle as if tasting a waft of foul air and she answered the question with a tone that suggested it hardly mattered, “The top place was taken for Elkheim by that mountainous moose Wodan, though certainly his compatriots did much to secure that position as well. Second was... oh I forget her name, one of the griffins.”

“If I may, Empress?” said Tomoko in a quiet, polite voice, bowing her head deeply, “I do believe her name is Gwendolyn Var Bastion, of the Kingdom of Grandis. It seemed her and our Dao Ming had struck up something of a camaraderie during the event.”

Fu Ling’s eyebrow rose slightly, like a black eel twitching.

“Gwendolyn took second?” Dao Ming asked, sounding mildly surprised, then smiled. “I see I underestimated her.”

“I would agree that there is more to that griffin than one would think at first glance. Marvelous sword skills, although had Kenkuro stayed on the field I’m sure he would have bested her,” said Tomoko, shifting slightly behind the Empress. None of the siblings had come forward to Dao Ming’s bed, all of them staying respectfully behind their Empress.

“And the rest?” Dao Ming pressed, anxiousness creeping into her otherwise controlled features. Kenkuro was reminded of a bamboo shoot wound too tightly, ready to snap.

“Of little consequence,” said Fu Ling, “Those brutish minotaurs placed third, then the Equestrians in fifth, just behind you. A small lead that you can easily widen in the next event.”

As Kenkuro understood things the next segment was the Contest of Art, and there would be a day of rest and festivities before that, so Dao Ming would have time to recover fully. He knew Dao Ming had put a great deal of time into developing several skills to use during that portion of the Contest, though none of them yet knew what shape the event would take. He expected the monks would explain the rules on the day of the event itself. In the meantime he only wanted to see Dao Ming rest and center her spirit after what had happened on the field today.

“Will I even be allowed to continue competing?” asked Dao Ming, “I violated the spirit of the Contest. Wouldn’t my actions disqualify me?”

“Do not speak foolishness. As I said, you intended the Equestrian champions no harm and merely were demonstrating your power,” said Fu Ling, eyes like jade needles, “Am I understood?”

“But... my Empress, if I am to tell the truth then I have to confess to losing control of-” Dao Ming began, but a sound akin to thunder silenced her as Fu Ling slammed the floor with a single resounding hoofclap. The Empress seemed to exude a wave of frigid control, like a blanket of snow from a recent blizzard, and Kenkuro knew it was Fu Ling’s chi pressing outward, a rare outburst of spiritual force that he hadn’t seen from her in decades.

“You will obey my commands, Dao Ming. I have already spoken with both Abess Serene and Princess Luna, and have explained your demonstration as just that, a show and nothing more. Do not speak of anything counter to that truth. Do not offer any apology to the Equestrian champions. Do not even speak with them. They are your opponents, nothing more. Your sole focus is victory in this Contest, nothing else. Am I understood?”

Kenkuro felt a bit of bile rise in his craw. He wasn’t about to have it out with Fu Ling in front of her children, but they were going to have words the moment they got somewhere private. She seemed to sense his ire and cast a glance his way. A second passed between them and he saw Fu Ling give the barest hint of a nod. Good, at least he wouldn’t have to try and force a private conversation. The Empress knew her Blade of Heaven had words for her and wouldn’t avoid them. First, however, this awkward conversation needed to be over.

Dao Ming for her part looked as if she were an incomplete statue, a torn, confused piece of masonry that didn’t know what it was supposed to be doing. Slowly, almost like a marionette with a tired and drunk puppeteer pulling the strings, Dao Ming bowed her head to her mother and said, “I will obey your words, my Empress.”

“Good. Tomoko, Lo Shang, Xhua, you may visit with your sister for a time. Kenkuro and I have business to discuss. We are not to be disturbed,” said Fu Ling, turning to sweep out of the room without so much as a backwards glance at any of her children, adopted or otherwise.

Kenkuro paused just long enough to give Dao Ming a comforting brush with his wing and thankful nods to her siblings before turning to stride after the Empress.

----------

“Demonstration my tailhole!” grunted Trixie as she sat deeper into the comfy cushions of the rather plush booth she and her friends occupied at one of the many tents consuming the fields between the monastery and the town of Heroes’ Rest. The tent was a Cavallian establishment, the rumors circulating around the festival that it served some of the most delightful treats to be found in Cavallian cuisine. Trixie felt like she needed about two more bowls of gelato, the Cavallian equivalent to ice cream, before she could settle down enough to actually drink something, which she intended to do soon before she had to think too much more on what had happened. She and her friends had gone almost straight here after the end of the Grand Melee, all of them in need of refreshment and a chance to unwind. They all still wore their starmetal armor and tabards, partially because it was incredibly comfortable and hardly required removing, and partially because Trixie enjoyed the admiring looks that it generated towards her and her friends as they moved among the crowd.

“Yeah,” said Carrot Top, poking at her own bowl of orange sherbert, “ I wasn’t getting much of a ‘demonstration’ vibe out of that last spell of hers either. More of a ‘death approaches, best skedaddle’ vibe.”

“C’mon girls,” said Cheerilee, spooning a mouthful of bright strawberry gelato into her mouth and wagging her tail in pleasure, “Mmm, we ranked pretty decently for our first event and took a rather arrogant kirin down a peg, and have some of the most delicious ice cream in the world in front of us! Let’s not ruin the mood with talking about our near death experience.”

Trixie blew out a huff and took a bite of her own chocolate sherbet banana orange-creme sundae with extra sour gummy worms sprinkled on top. The scintillating combination of flavors helped take the edge off and she realized Cheerilee was right; they’d done very well in the Grand Melee, despite nearly getting fried by an overzealous kirin princess. Trixie did feel a small ounce of guilt, however, as it occurred to her more than once since the Grand Melee that she might have... well, gone a little too far herself in taunting Dao Ming. Still, that hardly gave Dao Ming the right to shove a lethal lightning spell at her friends!

If it hadn’t been for that tengu...

Things had been somewhat awkward after the tengu Kenkuro had taken Dao Ming’s unconscious form from the field. The Knattleikr game was put on temporary hold to give Trixie and her friends time to rest from the duel with Dao Ming, and to allow for Sigurd to have his own bout with that griffin, Gwendolyn. Trixie hadn’t seen how that had turned out, as she’d been busy catching her breath and straightening herself out, but had heard Sigurd had lost a lot of tokens to the griffin, among a number of other champions that had lined up to challenge Gwendolyn while the Knattleikr game had finished up. It’d been... a little depressing, as if after Dao Ming’s outburst a bit of the spirit had been taken out of the Grand Melee. It all left a bad taste in Trixie’s mouth.

“So, does anypony know what to expect out of the next event?” asked Lyra, poking at her own mint chocolate chip gelato.

“It's the Contest of Art, right?” said Ditzy, smiling encouragingly as she looked at Lyra, “That sounds like it’ll be your department, mostly.”

Lyra returned the smile, reaching over to her lyre, which was leaned up against the table, and giving it an affectionate pat, “I’ve got plenty of tunes in mind, depending on just what the rules are gonna be. I bet there’ll be ways for all of you to help out. Art covers a lot more than just music, so all sorts of ways might pop up for everypony to strut their stuff.”

“I wouldn’t mind showing off some dance moves I haven’t had a chance to use in a good long while,” said Cheerilee with a contemplative smirk.

Carrot Top held a pensive look, shifting in her seat, “I’ve never been the most artistically inclined.”

“But you can cook,” said Ditzy, “Better than any of us, and food is part of any culture’s art I’d say.”

Raindrops remained silently, chin propped on one hoof as she stared out of the tent pavilion with hard but distant eyes. Trixie gave her pegasus friend a short jostle with a hoof, “You okay Raindrops?”

“Huh? Oh,” Raindrops glanced at Trixie but quickly looked away as all of her friends stared at her, taking a swift bite of her seasalt gelato to buy her a second, “It’s nothing. Not much I can add to an event about art or whatever. My head's on what’s after that.”

“The Contest of Strength,” said Cheerilee, “You’re worried about that zebra, aren’t you?”

Raindrops’ jaw tightened firmly, her turquoise mane bristling, “He... he didn’t even break a sweat on me in the Grand Melee.” Her hooves shook slightly, a tremor that seemed to stem from her ramrod straight spine all the way to the tip of her hoof, “I couldn’t even touch him! I don’t understand why. He wasn’t that tough back in Oaton. I just...”

She blew out a massive sigh, ears folding downward, “I wish he’d find somepony else to get all obsessed with. Why do I always get these weirdos wanting to duel me!? First that giant in Canterlot, then his stubborn sister, now I’ve got a crazy zebra chasing my tail. Do I just have a giant bullseye on my forehead or something?”

“Hey, it could be worse,” said Lyra, holding up her hooves in a helpless shrug, “He could also be madly in love with you.”

Raindrops shuddered, “Lucky me he’s already married, and his wife is weirder than he is.”

“Of course who could blame him if he had fallen for you,” said a bold voice as Frederick strode across the pavilion to their table, his youthful face beaming with a broad, winning smile. The red elk was resplendent in a brilliant white doublet embroidered with forest green patterns of ivy. A foaming mug was balanced expertly on one hoof as he made a swift bow to the mares at the table, “The six of you are magnificent examples of Equestrian beauty I’d be shocked if you didn’t earn a small army of potential suitors by the end of the Contest.”

Raindrops grunted, unimpressed, while Trixie crossed her forelegs, blanching. Lyra just chuckled, “Already taken.”

Frederick winked, “And all maledom weeps at the loss, Dame Lyra.” He then looked at Carrot Top, who shifted in her seat a bit, “Of course were I to be asked to pick favorites all I could tell them is that I’ve always favored redheads.”

“It's good to see you, Prince Frederick,” said Carrot Top, features brightening with a small smile, “What brings you here?”

Frederick took a long sip of from his mug, wiping away the foam, and leaned down to whisper in a conspiratorial manner, through more than loud enough for the whole table to hear, “I’ve managed to escape the rather dreary fate of having to socialize among my ‘peers’ in the sincere hope I’d find you lovely mares. You see, I was hoping to appropriate a particular one of your number to show me around the Equestrian end of this fine festival.”

He ended with a pointed wink at Carrot Top, who looked back and forth between her friends, each of whom stared back at her. Carrot Top then took a deep breath and took a huge bite from her plate of neapolitan ice cream, reached to her saddlebag and tossed a few bits on the table and said, “That ought to cover my end of the bill girls. I’ll catch up with all of you at dinner.”

“Dinner? You planning on being out... all day?” asked Ditzy, blinking.

Carrot Top scooted out of the booth and joined Frederick, who offered her a hoof which she took after only a second’s hesitation, “Maybe not all day? Right, Prince Frederick?”

“Oh of course not, I’m just eager to see all Equestria has to offer, what with my being all princely and such and needing to expand my cultural horizons. No need to fear my ladies, I am the absolute definition of a gentlebuck. Just ask Sigurd, if you can drag him out of wherever he’s presently sulking in. I promise nothing at all shall pass between me and Dame Carrot Top here except pleasant conversation.”

He smiled and cast her short bow, “Unless she specifically asks otherwise, of course.”

Carrot Top chuckled dryly, knocking him with an elbow, “Pleasant conversation. Now come on before I decide this is a terrible idea.”

The elk and mare strode out of the pavilion side by side, leaving behind five somewhat flabbergasted mares who all exchanged looks. Lyra and Cheerilee shared similar cracked grins while Trixie coughed and made a show of focusing on her sundae. Raindrops just blurred out, “Is elk royalty seriously trying to make a move on Carrot Top?”

“Well, there’s not a problem with that, is there?” asked Cheerilee with a cheeky look. Raindrops shrugged.

“As long as she’s comfortable with it, no.” Raindrops said plainly, “I’d just hate to have to deck a prince and cause an international incident if he pushes things too far with a friend, is all.”

“He seems nice,” said Ditzy, “And Carrot Top knows how to take care of herself. She won’t let him push her around, if it turns out he’s that sort. I don’t think he is. Maybe.”

“Something bothering you too, Ditzy?”asked Lyra, leaning towards the other mare. Ditzy seemed startled for a second, but quickly recovered with a relaxed smile, although Trixie thought perhaps it looked a tad forced.

“I’m okay. Just still a little shaken after the Grand Melee. Lightning and crazy griffins with knives. Think maybe after this I want to check on Dinky and get some rest. Just nap in our room, you know?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Raindrops, “I could use a stretch and I bet Snails would like to wander around the festival grounds some. I’ll go with you, Ditzy.”

They quickly finished up their desserts, paid the bill, and exited the pavilion into the warm, sunny light of early afternoon. The festival grounds were bursting with creatures of every type and nationality, and the air buzzed with excited chatter and a comfortable, bracing breeze. It was near perfect weather and Trixie wished she could find it more relaxing. Something just felt... off after the Grand Melee. Her friends were distracted with various things; Raindrops’ unwanted rivalry with Tendaji, Ditzy’s concern over the griffin that almost injured her, and Carrot Top wandering off with an elk prince for... who could guess what reason? Trixie had worries as well. She still had no idea what had happened to her and Dao Ming yesterday with that gravesite, and Corona was still here and a possible threat.

And on top of all that Trixie didn’t know what to think of Dao Ming. She was angry at the kirin for endangering her friend’s lives, almost to the point where she’d considered making some sort of formal demand for Dao Ming’s disqualification, as lethal attacks had been prohibited during the Grand Melee... yet she already knew that the Shouma Empress had spoken with Princess Luna and Abbess Serene and smoothed all that over. The incident was being brushed off as nothing more than a youthful and eager demonstration of magical might by the kirin princess. Trixie didn’t buy that for an instant, but she understood why it was being made the official story, as who wanted an upsetting incident to ruin the mood of the Contest within the opening event?

It didn’t change the fact that Trixie was not square with what had happened and wanted to confront Dao Ming over it. Unfortunately the mare had been taken away to be treated for what had been clearly over channeling, and while it’d been announced she was fine and would awaken soon, Trixie didn’t know when.

Perhaps I should find out, go and arrange a meeting. I should be able to do that.

“Hey, Equestria to Trixie, you in there?” asked Lyra suddenly, making Trixie jump slightly. Trixie glanced around and noticed that Raindrops and Ditzy had already flown off, the two pegasi receding dots on their way to the cliff face containing the monastery. Next to her Cheerilee and Lyra stood among the passing crowds, Cheerilee chuckling slightly while Lyra smiled wryly at Trixie.

“You were spacing out there for a sec, Trixie.”

Trixie shook her head, “Sorry. Seems there’s a lot on my mind, too. I have a lot I want to say to Dao Ming and I don’t even know if she’s conscious right now.”

“Why not go ask?” suggested Lyra, “Not like it could hurt anything to check. Thing is, what are you going to say to her if she is awake and her uptight Imperial kin let you in to see her?”

Trixie chewed her lip, giving the ground a good, hard stare as if she could force the earth to yield answers to her thoughts, “I don’t know exactly, but what happened has left a sour taste in my mouth worse than waking up from an all nighter with too much bourbon.” Trixie took a slow breath, thinking of what she had been in the past, and what she was trying to be now. “I just know that a champion of Equestria needs to be more than a mare with a grudge. Something went wrong on the field and I can’t make it square by ignoring things and hoping they go away, as nice as it would be to just continue the Contest as if nothing had ever happened.”

She felt a friendly pat on the withers, seeing Cheerilee offering an encouraging smile, “Why don’t we go together then? Offer some ‘get well soon’ sentiments alongside some ‘what in Tartarus were you trying to pull?’ questions? We can double team her!”

Lyra slid up on Trixie’s other side, “Triple team. Total three-some!”

Trixie scrunched her muzzle queasily, “Rule one for our chat with Dao Ming; no innuendos!”

“Geez, take all our fun away why don’t you?” teased Lyra, but only in a joking manner as she nodded, “But have it your way, we’ll play nice with her during the heart-to-heart.”

“Assuming her family lets us in to see her,” reminded Cheerilee.

Trixie then smiled, adjusting her pointed magician’s hat and putting some confidence into her voice, “I can convince them, no problem.”

----------

“No,” said the ironclad voice of the guard, a unicorn pony in the impeccably clean and ornate jade and gold armor of a Shouma soldier. He, along with his female partner, also a unicorn, carried spears with wide, curved blades crossed to bar the corridor leading to the wing of the monastery where Trixie knew Dao Ming had been taken for rest and healing.

Trixie shared a look with Cheerilee and Lyra, Lyra rather unhelpfully giving Trixie a encouraging hoof wave before Trixie sighed and looked at the guard once more. She imagined his face had to have been somehow glued into a permanent fixation of bland, stone stubbornness. In her mind’s eye she saw a secret society of guards spanning cultures and ages that shared the secret techniques of that deadpan, stoic, lifeless expression and the monotone drawl that went with it. This was as frustrating as trying to speak with the Royal Guard, if not moreso.

Holding her head high and meeting the guard’s utterly wooden gaze Trixie cleared her throat and spoke in a clear, concise tone, “I understand there must be rules to abide by, and as such there are also no doubt protocols that allow for the bending of those rules under special circumstances. Surely there is a way we could be granted permission to pass if-”

“No,” repeated the guard, in an identical hard tone like before.

Trixie felt her eyebrow twitch, and removed her hat for a moment to smooth over her mane with a hoof before replacing the hat, perhaps a bit too firmly. “My good stallion, you exist within a hierarchy of authority, I understand. You have your orders. Your superiors. So, logically, if you would just take a message to Lady Dao Ming that Trixie Lulamoon requests an audience with her then she herself would have the authority to decide if she wishes to see me or not?”

The stallion was silent for a second, and Trixie almost thought she had him, when he said, “No.”

Trixie was already halfway through considering how far she could cram the guard's helmet down his throat when the stallion added, as if in pity, “The order for no one to be allowed to see the Imperial Heir is one that was issued by the Empress herself. No authority other than hers can overturn it.”

“Well, couldn’t you just go ask the Empress chick for permission or something?” asked Lyra, to which both the Shouma unicorns stiffened and tightened their telekinetic grips upon their polearms. Lyra blinked, “What?”

“Don’t mind them,” said a somewhat familiar voice as the dark form of Kenkuro appeared from the other side of the guards, as if by some trick of light and shadows, “The warriors of our Empire are dedicated to their Empress, and it's rare that any would dare refer to her as the ‘Empress chick’. They don’t know you mean no offense.”

The guard stallion coughed slightly, “Sir Kenkuro, we were merely turning away these... individuals. The Empress commands-”

Kenkuro waved a wing, smiling in a disarming fashion, “No need, warrior, I know the Empress’ commands better than any. I shall attend these Equestrians. You and your comrade continue to do a fine job and guard this hallway, yes?”

The guards both made slight bows, a motion Kenkuro briefly returned before sweeping past them and, putting a wing around Trixie’s shoulders to guide her to follow him, whispered, “Come, I would speak with you. Somewhere less stuffy and with fewer eyes and ears about.”

Although she had no real reason to trust him, she sensed no ill intent in the tengu’s tone. In fact his mannerisms gave Trixie a ghostly reminder of her grandfather, though she was at a loss as to exactly why that was. She supposed that if he’d wished her or her friend’s harm then he wouldn’t have saved them, as she suspected he had, during the Grand Melee. Trixie nodded for Kenkuro to lead on, and after a quick sharing of looks with Cheerilee and Lyra the three mares followed Kenkuro’s swift form down several more of the monastery’s wide stone hallways. Now that she was walking so close to him and paying attention Trixie noted that when Kenkuro moved it wasn’t a normal walk, so much as it was a fast, elegant hopping motion, his taloned feet leaving the ground and his tailfeathers balancing him with quick, short glides that made him like a kite a foal was having trouble getting off the ground; yet somehow graceful instead of awkward.

Kenkuro led them up several winding stairways until Trixie saw stark daylight above and felt a pleasantly cool breeze. The stairs opened up onto a wide stone pathway cut into the top edge of the cliff that the monastery was built inside. A smooth, carved stone rampart looked out upon the vast fields between the monastery and the festival grounds, the array of tents looking like a colorful ant farm in the distance. Trixie could also make out Heroes' Rest, the town’s collection of buildings hugging the island coast and its small harbor playing home to many more ships than Trixie had seen upon arriving yesterday.

And of course, looming over the island like a thundercloud of ancient stone and metal was the fortress Rengoku, still giving Trixie a cold feeling inside when her eyes glanced at it on the other side of the island. Somehow, for a reason she couldn’t quite pin down, the dilapidated old monolith looked more alive than it had the previous day. Trixie shook the foreboding feeling off and looked to Kenkuro, who was leaning against the rampart and looking at her and her friends with an apologetic gaze.

“Do forgive the guards. They do their tasks well, otherwise they wouldn’t be among the Empress’ hoof chosen elite. She has ordered that Dao Ming receive no visitors outside the Imperial Family, and that will not change until tomorrow I suspect.”

“Why not let anyone visit her? Is she that bad off after nearly toasting us like a bunch of Hay Pockets?” asked Cheerilee, not a small tad of curious sass in her voice.

Kenkuro chortled under his breath, “I can now see how easily and quickly you managed to get under Dao Ming’s skin, if that was the brand of banter you levied against her. First of all, Dao Ming is well. A small miracle considering the power of the spirit she summoned and subsequently angered.”

“What was that thing anyway?” asked Lyra with open interest, “I’ve never read anything about a magical entity like that. I mean, granted I wasn’t able to dig up much on Shouma legends and mythology before we got here, but I didn’t think your spirits got that strong.”

“The ones typically summoned through the ancients pacts of the spirit chanter’s arts are rarely so potent,” Kenkuro said, reaching into the folds of the blue kimono he wore and drawing out a long, curved pipe that he placed in his beak, lighting it with a small tinder box after stuffing a wad of an odd red leaf inside it. “The one Dao Ming called forth was an aspect of Raijin himself, one of the Seven Storms. I’ll skip the history lesson and simply state that among the divine echelons of spirits inhabiting my homeland only the Celestial Dragons hold higher rank than the Storms. To give you context, it was as if Dao Ming had summoned and tried to control an aspect of power from one of your Princesses. As if a sole unicorn had, say, attempted to take control of the moon for a brief period of time. Or simply demanded that Tsukihime herself smite a foe with the moon’s power.”

“Tsukiwho?” Trixie deadpanned.

Kenkuro coughed, blowing out white smoke rings, “Princess Luna. As your Celestia is known as Amaterasu to us in the Heavenly Empire, so is Luna known as Tsukihime.”

Trixie nodded, “Right, so Dao Ming called a big shot spirit to, what, impress me and my friends? Scare us? I saw what happened out there, Sir Kenkuro-”

“Please, just Kenkuro while we’re alone. I’ve never been much for formality.”

“Fine, Kenkuro. What I mean to say is that I know something went wrong, Dao Ming lost control. That spell, that bolt of lightning...” Trixie shuddered slightly at the memory, “It would have killed us. I don’t know if she intended that or not, but that is what happened, and I also know that you did something to stop it. I wanted to talk to her, to confirm if that attempt at murder was intentional or an accident, and maybe... I’m not sure, reconcile it all?”

“Trixie?” Lyra said with cautious concern as Trixie’s voice had grown strained. Trixie just shook her head.

“Let me make this clear, Kenkuro. I don’t care if Dao Ming insists on looking down on me and my friends for not being the perfect image of ‘champions’ that she thought we should be. That’s her problem, and if she wants I’ll gladly prove her assumptions wrong again and again during each part of this Contest. But I need her to know that I didn’t intend to turn this into a grudge match either. That is not what the Contest of Champions is for, it's for forging friendship and understanding between cultures, and while I know I’m insufferable and don’t expect me and Dao Ming to become fast friends, I do want there to be no bad blood between us. So I need to know if that spell was an accident...”

Trixie’s eyes hardened and she stared straight into Kenkuro’s dark eyes, “Because if it wasn’t an accident then I will not let that pass. Not any attempt to bring harm to my friends.”

Kenkuro stared back at her, his body still and his eyes unblinking. Trixie held that gaze but felt a distinct discomfort as the tengu’s black pool eyes continued to fix on her like onyx pearls. Just as she was starting to wonder if she’d taken a step too far in asserting just how she felt about the situation if Dao Ming had sent that lightning bolt at her friends intentionally, Kenkuro finally blinked and took a long puff of his pipe, letting the smoke out slowly.

“Through I hesitate to speak for a member of the Imperial Family, I feel I can safely convey that Dao Ming regrets what happened today.”

“So why can’t we speak with her so she can convey that herself?” asked Trixie.

“It is a... complicated matter,” said Kenkuro, his voice sounding weary, as if he’d already had a similar discussion.

“Doesn’t sound complicated to me,” said Cheerilee suddenly, stepping around so that she was leaning against the wall next to Kenkuro, her face straddling the expressions of sympathy and coy understanding in equal measure, “Your Empress wants to save face, which wouldn’t happen if Dao Ming made some official apology about nearly frying us alive, right? Let me guess, the official story is going to be that what happened on the field was that she missed on purpose, not because of some loss of control?”

Kenkuro glanced at her sidelong, measuring Cheerilee up with a critical eye, “You’re the astute one, aren’t you?”

“I try. So I’m curious, how did you pull off saving our collective flanks?” asked Cheerilee, “I’m not sure how many champions out there even saw you move. I was staring right at that lightning bolt and even I barely caught you moving. Why weren’t you turned into smoking ash, if you don’t mind the inquisitive press?”

“Been wondering that myself,” said Lyra, nodding at Kenkuro’s sword, “Figured it had something to do with that. I’m a bit familiar with it. Kusanagi no Tsurugi, right?”

Kenkuro nodded, beak twisting in a brief smile, “The very same. Its legend has reached even distant Equestria?”

Lyra let out an embarrassed giggle, “Not really. I mean, bits and pieces. When I was digging up lore on Shouma I ran across a few mentions of it. The sword is some kind of gift or something from the spirits of the land to the first settlers, right?”

“In a sense,” replied Kenkuro, face turning oddly solemn, “The blade’s history is less important than its purpose; which is to be the mediating force for the one chosen to arbitrate between spirits and mortals in the Heavenly Empire. In any normal circumstance it is just a plain, simple sword. When drawn against a spirit, however, its edge acts as a deterrent to the spirit’s power, capable of turning aside the magic of even spirits as mighty as Raijin.”

Trixie’s ears twitched. Kenkuro’s body language was largely foreign to her, his avian shape and mannerisms unfamiliar to her equine experiences, but she could still feel a reserved aspect to his voice. He wasn’t telling all there was to tell about the blade at his side, only what he felt they needed to hear to understand what had happened in the field. Trixie wanted to ask questions, but could tell any probing further on the subject would be evaded.

“So you saved us, and your princess gets to avoid responsibility for nearly killing us due to politics, but she feels bad about it,” Trixie summarized, holding up a hoof to forestall Kenkuro as the tengu opened his beak to speak, “I’m not going to make an issue of it. At least not as long as Dao Ming can keep control of herself from here on out. I owe you that much for deflecting that bolt of lightning. I don’t like that your Empress is sweeping this all under the rug, but I spent enough time among the Night Court to know the importance of saving face, and more importantly I don’t want the Contest ruined by some political drama. Been through enough of that in my life lately already.”

Kenkuro was still as a wooden board for a moment, only his kimono stirred by the soft breeze passing over the ramparts. Then he cocked his head curiously, a gesture that reminded Trixie of how a griffin looked at folks with a single eye when wanting to get a clearer glimpse of them. His voice held an optimistic note.

“I can hear the sincerity in you, Dame Trixie. I think, perhaps, you and Lady Dao Ming would both benefit from getting to know one another better. While the Empress will frown on this, I think it would be worth it. If only all things were so simple, but there is more to my reason for speaking with you than conveying Dao Ming’s regrets. It is good your friends are here in part, though it would have been better if the whole of you were here.”

“Why’s that?” asked Cheerilee, “If you want to talk to all of us we could just meet at our rooms here in the monastery, couldn’t we?”

A swift shake of his black feathered head was followed by a keen glance around their surroundings, “It would be too conspicuous, Dame Cheerilee. The other matter I wished to speak of with you is delicate and I prefer few know that we spoke at all.”

“The two guards already saw us heading off together,” pointed out Lyra, “Wouldn’t gossip pretty much spread from that already?”

“You underestimate the elite guards of the Empress. They will speak no word of what they have seen to any but the Empress herself,” Kenkuro said firmly, “Our meeting is a safe secret for now, provided we finish here quickly before any take note of us. These ramparts I noticed yesterday are fairly isolated from the rest of the monastery. We should have some minutes left and what I have to say won’t take long.”

“Well then, say it,” bid Trixie, curiosity piqued by the tengu’s sudden conspiratorial manner.

“I speak only a warning of caution. Friends of mine have given me reason to believe something of a dark nature is brewing on this island,” said Kenkuro in a dead serious tone like fresh ice, making Trixie shiver in slight discomfort, “We have no proof as of yet, so going to the rulers gathered here would do little but stir unneeded fear, but among the champions themselves I felt you and your friends might benefit from this knowledge. Myself, the labyrinth seer Greysight, and the zebra Nuru are old friends, and we will investigate for anything unusual ourselves, but it is my hope that perhaps you mares might also keep an eye out.”

“That’s... exceedingly vague, as far as warnings go,” said Trixie with a frown, “Any specifics?”

Kenkuro shook his head, “Greysight has visions. They are far from an accurate or clear thing, but she is convinced something is stirring here on the Isle of the Fallen, a threat to the peace the Contest is meant to serve. I wish I could tell you more, but that is all I know myself.”

“Okaaaaay, but why tell us?” asked Lyra, “If you think even going to Princess Luna about this won’t help, then why go a step down the badass ladder to us?”

A soft chuckle escaped Kenkuro’s beak, “While I respect Tsukihime’s power and wisdom, and if you wish to tell her of this I won’t tell you not to, I feel the bearers of an even greater power than hers might be of more importance to whatever is to come. Even in the Heavenly Empire we know of the power of the Elements of Harmony. If I cannot trust bearers of such virtues, then I cannot imagine trusting much of anyone at all. Do with this knowledge what you will, I merely wished to warn the only ponies on this island I know of who might be both prepared and motivated to keep a watch out for danger, if indeed Greysight’s visions hold any truth. I’ll be the first to admit she’s been wrong in the past, hence why we haven’t gone to your ruler or any other yet. Even the Empress I have said nothing to yet.”

“That’s a lot of trust you’re putting in us, “ said Trixie, somewhat stunned.

Kenkuro just shrugged, “Empress Fu Ling would not respond well to such tidings anyway, likely putting all of the guard on high alert and causing a ruckus. That or call me a fool for believing in a minotaur’s visions.”

"I thought minotaurs didn’t believe they had any magic,” said Lyra, to which Kenkuro smiled.

“And you’d be right. Greysight and her fellow seers insist they don't have magic either, but then again, their visions are not a thing they share outside their own circles. Her doing so for myself and our friend Nuru was always a sign of trust that I valued greatly. I never expected to find friends of their caliber when I first arrived on foreign shores, so long ago...”

He paused briefly, eyes growing distant for a second before he shook his head, “At any rate I have done what I came here to do. Do with this information what you will. Be well, knights of Equestria, and be watchful.”

Rather than go back down the stairs the way they came Kenkuro flapped his wings and took flight, going over the side of the cliff and drifting off on the breeze to glide towards the grounds to the north. Trixie, Cheerilee, and Lyra looked at each other and Lyra said, “So, uh, that was weird, right? I’m not the only one thinking that?”

Cheerilee held up a hoof and wagged it back and forth, “Eh, on what I count as our present weirdness scale I’d give that conversation a soft six. This kind of thing is starting to feel normal.”

“Still, could that warning have been more cryptic and unhelpful?” said Lyra, face scrunched in thought, “I can’t remember ever coming across any stories about minotaurs with prophetic visions.”

“He did say that they weren’t always correct,” said Trixie, thinking of the strange compulsion that had drawn her and Dao Ming to the graves of the original champions and the uneasy feelings she’d been having since first laying eyes on this island. “Regardless, we should reconvene with the others tonight and figure out what, if anything, we’re going to do.”

“Do you want to bring this up to the Princess?” asked Lyra, “With Corona here it’s possible the threat, if it’s real, might stem from her, and Princess Luna deserves to know if there’s danger on the horizon.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” said Trixie, “Although I’m certain she’s already taking precautions and warning her further probably won’t change anything. Still, while I understand why Kenkuro wouldn’t want to start spreading rumors of danger to all the rulers without being certain the threat was real I also know Luna can play her cards close to her chest. If we tell her the only other pony I imagine she’d spread the information to would be Princess Cadance, and I have zero issue with that.”

“Not that there’s much to tell. Don’t suppose either of you noticed anything strange already?” asked Cheerilee, looking out over the island, one hoof resting on the ramparts, “Everything has seemed pretty normal to me, our recent near death experience notwithstanding.”

Lyra rolled her shoulders in a small shrug, “You got me. I haven’t noticed anything weird since we got here. Trixie?”

Trixie’s eyes flicked between her two friends, suddenly a bit hesitant, for she had experienced something strange, but couldn’t connect it with anything meaningful, let alone draw any lines to possible threats. So far the biggest threat at the Contest had been an out of control and overly emotional kirin princess.

“I... well, let’s wait until we’ve got Ditzy, Raindrops, and Carrot Top here with us, first. Something strange did happen to me after we first arrived, but I don’t know what to make of it, and would rather have all of us present to rub braincells together. Since Carrot Top is... doing whatever with that Frederick fellow I suggest we just try to enjoy the rest of the day, and put a pin in this until tonight.”

“Assuming something doesn’t happen before then,” said Cheerilee.

----------

The many thousands of spectators were largely either filtering towards the festival grounds or the town of Hero’s Rest, or exploring the Order of Legend’s monastery, where many of the monks were happy to provide stories to curious visitors about the history of previous Contests and the many champions that had participated over the centuries.

Just at the foot of the monastery’s large entrance stairs Ditzy and Raindrops met up with their respective families.

“Mamma!” cried Dinky as she jumped from Shutter Bug’s back and into Ditzy’s waiting hooves, who swept the foal up in a spinning hug, beating her wings happily as she nuzzled Dinky.

“Hey muffin! Were you good while mamma was busy?”

“She was very well behaved,“ said Shutter Bug, smiling as she watched Raindrops land and give Snails a pat on the head while he gave her a hug.

“You were awesome out there sis!” Snails spouted happily, “Did you see that scorpion!? I didn’t know there were ones out there that big! I hope I can get a close look at it later.”

There was a faint buzzing noise from Snails’ mane and an insect head popped out, buzzing even louder. Snails laughed and reached up to pet the hercules beetle, “Don’t worry buddy, you’re still my favorite bug, and I won’t let the scorpion eat you.”

“Glad you’re happy bro,” said Raindrops, “Even if I don’t think that was my best showing, exactly.”

“Looked impressive to us,” said Dewdrop, though there was a cloud-like shade of concern on the pegasus’ face as he looked his daughter over, a look Ditzy knew well as the kind any parent gives a child that had just been through a potentially dangerous game, “You feeling alright? Things got a little intense out there. Zebras, lightning, kind of gave me and your mother a bit of a startle.”

Ditzy saw Raindrops’ face grow pensive, tail twitching, “I’m fine. Just glad we did as well as we did.” She looked down at Snails, putting on a relaxed half smile that Ditzy thought might’ve been a bit forced, “So what do you think Snails, want to go check out the festival grounds?”

The gangly colt practically bounced in place, “Yeah!”

Dinky, having found her comfortable perch on her mother’s back, said, “Hey, mamma, can we go too? I want to see as much as I can!”

Ditzy smiled tiredly, “I was thinking of just resting, but... well, okay. I can’t say no to that face. I’ll nap later.”

“If you’re tired, Miss Doo, we’d be happy to take her for a while longer,” said Shutter Bug with an understanding look on her face, “I don’t blame you for wanting to just lay down for awhile. I was only watching that craziness and got tired. Can’t imagine how exhausted you must be after all that.”

“That’s okay, I appreciate the offer, but I can keep on my hooves a little longer,” said Ditzy, flapping her wings as if to show that she was still full of energy, “I’ll treat myself to a good long nap later.”

“Um, you don’t have to if you wanna sleep, mamma,” said Dinky, sounding as if a bit of the air had been let out of her usual bubbly enthusiasm, but Ditzy just gave her another nuzzle.

“Don’t worry muffin, we can enjoy the sights, then when we’re both super tired take a big nap together, hmm?”

Dinky seemed to consider this, then chirped happily, “Okay!”

----------

Hidden out of sight of the congregating families, a shadow slinked around one of the large columns at the top of the monastery’s stairs. The shadow observed Ditzy and Raindrops leaving for the festival grounds with their families, and with smooth motions joined some of the larger crowds of other island visitors, blending into the crowd with practiced ease.

----------

Carrot Top tried not to choke on her ale as she sputtered out a chortling laugh, holding her stomach with one hoof while also trying not to spill any of the sweet drink from her mug.

“Seriously!? His entire coat? How long did it take him to notice?”

“Oh that’s the delicious part,” said Frederick, taking a long quaff from his own mug, grinning broadly, “The priestess had to tell him at dinner, because everyone else was too afraid to mention to Wodan that the pixies had granted his wish, just not in the way he’d expected.”

“Yikes. Remind me if I’m ever traveling through Elkhiem to avoid asking wandering pixies for any favors. Also, poor Wodan. He’s such an nice fellow, those pixies should’ve been a bit more charitable to him I think.”

“Alas, the fickle nature of pixies. Especially the spring variety,” Frederick said while he leaned back against the stout wall of the long cabin they were enjoying a drink in. After having spent an hour showing Frederick around the Equestrian festival tents they’d both built up a thirst, so Frederick had grinningly led her to the cervid portion of the festival grounds, to the longhall they now occupied.

Carrot Top had asked about what exactly the cabin was, for it stood out among the small cabins and tents the cervids had set up. It was longer than it was wide, its exterior carved with beautifully detailed scenes of elk in the forest, or great moose butting heads, or huge congregations of cervids dancing. There were also carvings of strange creatures the like of which Carrot Top had never seen, strange winged balls of light, the pixies, and others stranger still. The cabin’s decorations were painted in vivid colors, and within the hall banners hung from the ceiling with sweeping colors that reflected the light from the huge fire pit at the hall’s center.

Frederick had explained each town in all of Elkheim had its longhall, a place for merriment and meetings alike, where weddings were held and duels as well. It was the center of elk culture, the beating heart of each township’s community and pride, and the decorations of it, the carvings and banners were all made by an individual town’s residents, each longhall unique as the town it would be built at the center of.

Carrot Top found she rather liked the idea and enjoyed the pleasant if rowdy atmosphere within, enjoying the thick ale that flowed so freely here as she watched the cervids heartily welcome any curious members of other nations to this example of Elkheim hospitality. She also considered the elk seated across from her, watching Frederick’s easy manner and listening to his quick laugh. She did enjoy his company, though perhaps not to the extent her friends might be gossiping about. He was perhaps handsome, in an exotic way, with his antlers framing strong features. Still, Carrot Top was mostly just enjoying the elk’s relaxing mood, which offset how nervous she’d been about coming to the Contest. A nervousness that hadn’t gone away, and had only magnified after Dao Ming’s outburst on the field.

Carrot Top didn’t want to admit to herself but she’d been terrified by that display of power, a chill that still was with her when she thought about that lightning roaring towards her and her friends.

And yet it was also easy to be more at ease and forget that with Frederick’s warm laugh and silly stories. The ale also probably helped a bit, too.

“You could you know,” Frederick said suddenly, causing Carrot Top to look at him with eyes blinking curiousy.

“Could what?”

Frederick leaned forward, resting a chin on one of his hooves, “Travel to Elkheim.”

Carrot Top bought herself a second by taking a slow sip of her ale, the warm brew tickling her throat on its way to her stomach. She convinced herself the heat she was feeling was from that. “I don’t think my farm could survive me wandering off to the northern hemisphere. Princess Luna’s kind enough to get some ponies to look after things when I’m actually on a mission as a knight, but if I decide to spontaneously become a world traveler on my own time and bits, that’d mean leaving the farm behind.”

Frederick’s eyes flicked downwards for a second before taking a drink himself, “I suppose not. It is a good, honorable thing to be so dedicated to one’s land.” He then looked back at her with renewed vigor and a playful light, “Of course you did just say that Princess Luna arranges for the farm to be looked after if your trip is of an official nature. Elkheim may have a well deserved reputation for not being the most diplomatically involved of realms, but we have hosted the occasional visiting dignitary.”

He flashed a confident smile, “It would be a pleasure to show you the grand sights of my homeland. Purely for diplomatic reasons, of course.”

Carrot Top set down her own mug and looked at it for a moment, “Do you talk to all the mares for diplomatic reasons?”

He put a hoof to his chest, voice a mock air of despair, his smile never leaving, nor the laugh in his eyes, “You wound me. I have diplomatic thoughts only of you!”

She couldn't quite keep a chortle in, “Ha, I think your idea of diplomacy would make Trixie demand we cease all relations with Elkheim.”

“Ah, yes, I did sense a little, er, unease in your fellow knight,” said Frederick with a ponderous look and slight frown, “I hope she realizes I mean no offense in my manner and would never throw my attentions where they are unwanted.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Trixie gets like that even when she knows it's not directed her way. Just kind of one of her things. We all love her, even the parts we don’t always get. Word of caution, be careful if she ever offers you any food. Her tastes are beyond eccentric.”

There was a slow nod from Frederick as he drained the last of his mug, “You all do seem like good friends. Alemaid! Another!”

His call brought over one of several bouncy does who seemed to be in a state of perpetual motion as they swiftly moved from table to table, supplying a limitless river of ale in mugs they filled from vast stacks of barrels along one wall of the longhall. In mere seconds Frederick had another foaming mug before him, as did Carrot Top, though she was only half finished with the first. She just laughed, shaking her head.

“You elk drink enough to put half of Ponyville under, and I thought we had some pretty dedicated drinking enthusiasts in our town.”

“Ha!” Frederick raised his mug and gulped down the amber liquid swiftly, slamming the mug down, “Even the most milksop fawns develop a taste for fine northern ale. This isn’t even the hard stuff the warriors drink before and after battle.”

Carrot Top blinked as she saw a brief shadow pass over his face, the boyish enthusiasm doused for a second. He quickly recovered, laughing as if to himself, and smiled back at her again. “So tell me, how did it feel to be out there on the field of honor, competing among such noble company as Wodan the Mountain Slayer, or Sigurd the Darkfrost?”

Carrot Top felt her eyebrows raise quizzically, “The Darkfrost?”

“Yes, well, we of cervid kind do love our titles. I didn’t come up with that one, by the by, you can thank Andrea for adding that title to Sigurd’s ballad,” said Frederick, “I do believe he earned it from freezing over the entirety of Lake Jotungrave to trap a pair of fire wryms that...”

He paused, face tightening, “Actually he’d likely wish to forget that. Never mind it. Sometimes our ballads are as much a painful reminder as a glorious recounting. Still, no dodging the question, fair pony maiden with the fiery mane. How did you enjoy the taste of glory?”

Carrot Top shelved her curiosity as to just what he meant about Sigurd’s ballad, focusing on the question. She hadn’t really meant to evade it, but now that she was thinking about it the answer came rather quickly if unsteadily to her mind. “Uh... well, can something be both exciting and terrifying at the same time? When me and the girls get mixed up in these kind of things it’s always a little surreal to me. I’m a carrot farmer. I’ve never felt like much of a heroine, even when the reality of it has slapped me in the face a few times.”

She looked at herself, still clad in her starmetal armor, the fine metal links like soft cloth gliding against her hide, complete with its knightly tabbard. She hadn’t even taken off her alchemy bandolier, with several unused vials and clay jars still mounted upon it.

“The thing is, everypony else seems like they fit in with all this in some way. Trixie is a skilled magician trained by the Princess herself. She gets a big head about it sometimes but I’ve seen enough of her to know there’s real skill and talent backing up the boasts... most of the time. Raindrops is so much stronger than any of us and anger issues or not I trust her in a fight, like she’ll always have our backs no matter the danger. Cheerilee might seem like just a schoolteacher, but her background might well make her more experienced than any of us in dealing with dangerous situations, and she always seems to have herself together even when the rest of us might be freaked out. Lyra knows more about myths and legends than any of us and can weave all sorts of useful spells out of her music, not to mention out of all us she’s the most determined to meet this kind of lifestyle head on, through I think she might see this all as more of a game than some of us do. Then there’s Ditzy, who I would have thought might be the one least likely to take to this kind of life, but she’s weathered it admirably and holds the whole group together by being our moral center.”

She looked at Frederick with a small shrug, “Compared to all that I sometimes wonder if I’m good enough to really stand with them. My whole life has been carrots until Corona showed up and turned everything on its head. Now I just try to be as useful as I can to my friends, so I don’t slow them down.”

“From what I saw you did more than just be useful. You six had the coordination of well trusted comrades. Were you holding your friends back I doubt you could have pressed the kirin as hard as you did,” said Frederick, leaning forward slightly, “I rather think there’s more to you than carrots. I saw it when you were willing to ride my wyvern rather than flee in terror. I think somewhere in you is a flame that enjoys a little danger.”

Carrot Top almost coughed out her drink, “Me? Enjoy danger? The most dangerous thing I ever want to do is keep insane bunnies off my farm, or maybe engage in the occasional spirited debate with Applejack. Danger and me don’t mix well.”

“Heh, I shall respectfully disagree with your present assessment of yourself, Dame Carrot Top.”

“Fair enough,” she said, letting things trail off for a moment into companionable silence as they both enjoyed their drinks and the atmosphere. The music in the longhall reminded Carrot Top of warm summer days in the market, though she imagined the lyrics, all sung in the resonae language of Elkheim, were probably of great battles and duels. Was it strange that the thought made her feel warm and relaxed?

She thought about what Frederick said, wondering as she had often lately, just who she really was. The simple farmer, or the adventurous knight? Did they have to be separated, or was there room in her life for both? Would the simple farmer look at the handsome elk across the table from her and think of... “diplomatic” things to do under a starry night sky? Or was that the adventurous knight’s thoughts instead?

Who was the real her? Which did she want to be the real her?

Finishing her drink she pushed aside the question, “So, back to the festival then? There’s a stage set up for a showing of Hinny of the Hills. Or I could show you around the historical galleries? Ponyville has one set up, if you’re curious how my hometown got its start.”

“As long as I’m in your fine company I do believe I’ll enjoy whatever we do,” was Frederick’s purred reply.

“Okay prince, ease up. You’ve used up your flirtation points for today,” Carrot Top said with a laugh, “You gotta learn to give a mare some space to breath.”

“Alas, the complex maze of multi-cultural courtship,” Frederick said jokingly, “Usually the more blatant and bold the flirtation the more the does take notice.”

He rose from his seat, offering her a hoof, almost hesitantly as his boisterous manner dropped to something more of a hesitant, embarrassed smile, “If my manner ever offends, don’t hesitate to give me a good smack upside the head. I’ve been told by my ‘caretakers’ I have the self-awareness of a mildly drunk summer sprite. I’m enjoying your company, as a friend or whatever else, and don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

She took his hoof, feeling a tiny warm thrill at the touch that she kept hidden behind a friendly smile, “Don’t worry, in Equestria, everything starts with friendship.”

----------

While she rarely went to them, Ditzy had to admit that the rodeos were pretty quintessential parts of Equestrian culture and was happy to see one in prominent display, taking up a good portion of one part of the festival grounds. The wide open, fenced off space had a few wooden spectator stands set up around it, but most ponies and many other species passing by were standing along the fenceline, using bales of hay for seating, to watch the athletic ponies in stetsons and other country wear performing impressive feats of physical prowess with barrels, ropes, and hurdles.

The rodeo was sponsored and paid for by the Apple Trust, hardly surprising given the family’s prominence in the farming trade that so often produced fine rodeo ponies. Ditzy wondered if Applejack was actually here, but didn’t see Ponyville’s resident cowpony anywhere. She supposed things must have been too busy back on the farm.

“I don’t understand the purpose of stacking piles of tied together hay,” Ditzy heard a nearby camel comment to a few of his fellows, their humps covered in bright, decorative cloths with beautiful looking patterns of varied colors woven into them.

“I think it is a matter of physical skill and might,” said another camel, “It looks... difficult.”

“It’s totally amazing!” Said Dinky, who was perched atop Ditzy’s head to get the best view, “That’s the highest I’ve ever seen a hay bale stack before! Oh, hey Snails, do you think they’ll bring out the rodeo clowns soon? Those guys are hilarious!”

Snails, who was more occupied by watching the passing, darting form of a dragonfly, said noncommittally, “I guess?”

“Snaiilllls! You’re not even listening to me!”

“I guess?”

Ditzy exchanged a look with Raindrops, who was sitting next to her little brother with a protective wing stretched around him, and the two mares shared a light laugh. Ditzy found herself gradually relaxing, her earlier worries over the encounter with Grimwald fading away under the pleasant feeling of a warm sun, a friendly crowd, and the contentment of spending time with her friends and daughter.

More than any duty to Equestria or importance attributed to the Contest of Champions, Ditzy felt that the real joy of coming here was going to be moments like this.

She was rocked from her haze by her daughter’s gentle hoof tapping her head, Dinky leaning down and looking at Ditzy upside down with big, blinking eyes, “Hey, mamma?”

“Yes dear?”

“Is it okay if I go get some popcorn? There’s a stand right over there behind us.” Dinky pointed, causing Ditzy to gently crane her head around to see that indeed not far behind the rodeo were a set of concession stands, including one laden with popcorn.

“I’ll get some for Snails too, and I’ll even use my own bits!” Added Dinky, who while not having a large allowance, was fairly frugal with it. Still, given this was a vacation of sorts Ditzy was more than happy to provide a few extra bits, tight budget or not, so she beamed a cheerful smile at her foal and fished out a couple of bits for her.

“Let’s go together and I’ll get some for all of us.”

“Oh, I can do it myself mamma, no problem!” Dinky said, hopping down from Ditzy’s head and bouncing a few times in place, “I’m getting pretty big and I can even float the popcorn with my own magic.”

Ditzy hesitated, looking towards the popcorn stand. It was literally only ten paces away, and the crowd wasn’t even that thick. Not that Ditzy was considering letting her daughter out of her sight. She’d watch, like a particularly paranoid hawk who was also a protective parent. No reason to be worried. Her smile feeling a bit more strained she nodded and gave her daughter the bits.

“Be right back. Don’t want to miss the rodeo clowns,” she said and gave Dinky a quick nuzzle, which Dinky returned energetically before bounding off towards the popcorn stand. Ditzy remained seated where she was, eyes locked on her daughter. Next to her Raindrops glanced over, an understanding look on her face.

“Still thinking about that griffin?” Raindrops asked quietly, causing Ditzy to flinch.

“I’m trying not to,” she said, her mind rebelling against her wishes and recalling in vivid detail the fight with Grimwald. Even more than during the fight itself she felt a cold sense of fear creeping along her at the memories, and his voice echoed in her mind like a falling icicle.

”Yet you have a daughter...”

It’d seemed like such an innocuous statement, but the tone he’d used with it, that entirely too sickly sweet tone, still triggered every protective maternal instinct she had towards Dinky. She didn’t trust Grimwald, and resented he was rattling her so easily... but she’d take being annoyed over being rattled than risk anything actually happening to her muffin.

So she watched as Dinky hopped up to the popcorn stand. Dinky smiled brightly as she exchanged words with the happy looking mare behind the stand, who accepted the bits Dinky proudly floated up and quickly went about filling three white and red striped bags with golden buttery popcorn. Dinky’s face became a mask of concentration as she took telekinetic hold of the three bags, slowly turning to carefully start walking back.

Unconsciously, her eyes started to dart among the passing crowd, intently searching for even the smallest sign of anything or anygriffin out of place. So intent was she on this that she didn’t even feel the first talon poke at her shoulder, and only on the second did she turn to see a smiling beak just a few inches from her face.

“Hi.”

“Whaaaaa!” Ditzy flailed backwards, toppling off her haybale seat, heart leaping into her throat. Raindrops stood up, glaring at the griffin who’d taken a seat opposite Ditzy and was smiling pleasantly at both of them. Grimwald looked around at the sight of several others of the rodeo audience who were looking curiously at Ditzy, who was still trying to catch her breath and her wits, and he just shrugged.

“Didn’t know my visage alone inspired such a reaction. Then again, maybe that’s part of why my wife is always so sour?” Grimwald mused, then offered a talon to Ditzy, “Need a hand up?”

“I’m... fine,” Ditzy said, standing on her own and looking at Grimwald hard.

“What do you want?” asked Raindrops, even as Snails started to take notice of the situation and gave the adults a curious look.

Grimwald shrugged, gesturing at the rodeo, “Just taking in the sights. Love the rustic pony pastimes of stacking blocks of what basically counts as food as high as they can without it toppling over.”

Ditzy’s eyes flicked over to Dinky, who was just closing the last few paces to them, and Ditzy could see the strain on her daughter’s face as she tried to keep a strong but steady hold on the bags of popcorn. A part of her wanted to tell Dinky to stay back, but she didn’t have a reason for any of that yet besides vague fear. She looked back to Grimwald, forcing herself to calm as she sat back down.

“So... how did the rest of the Grand Melee go for you?” she asked in as neutral a tone as she could manage.

“Oh, you know, a little of this and that,” Grimwald said, waving a claw in the air in a dismissive gesture, “Win some lose some. Nothing near as exciting as you mares’ close call with that electrifying kirin, Dao Ming. Quite the light show that was.”

“Yeah, what of it?” Raindrops said, eyes narrowing. Grimwald held up his talons in mock defense, chuckling dryly.

“Yikes, why the hostility, muscles? I’m only trying to have a friendly chat.”

Raindrops looked like she was about to say something quite a bit harsher, but looked down at the confused Snails and promptly took in a deep breath, “Fine, whatever, chuckles.”

“Oooh, pet names. We’re getting to be besties in no time,” Grimwald said, then looked over at Dinky as the filly made the last steps to them. At the last moment, though, Dinky’s concentration on her levitation was lost and she cried out as the popcorn bags began to slip.

Faster than the ponies could react Grimwald snatched the falling popcorn bags out of the air, one after another, balancing one on his tail. Dinky blinked at him, then grinned. “Whoa! Thanks mister!”

“Mister Grimwald, little bright eyes,” said Grimwald with a small bow as he handed the popcorn over to Ditzy and Raindrops, who passed one to Snails while Ditzy gave the third to Dinky.

Ditzy grudgingly managed to say, “Thank you.”

“Well, popcorn is serious business to a filly,” Grimwald said, winking at Dinky, who was happily smiling around mouthfuls of popcorn.

Ditzy didn’t know what to make of the situation, her nervousness hardly abating. There was something in Grimwald’s eyes that still left her feeling like there was imminent danger lingering in the air like a bad odor, made only worse by the fact her daughter was blissfully and ignorantly snacking away on popcorn right next to her.

Maybe if I just... learn something about him. Try to understand who he is, maybe I’ll feel better. This is why we’re here, right? To make friends.

“So, um, Grimwald... what are you enjoying about the festival so far?” she asked, not able to think of too many immediate conversation topics. She even caught Raindrops giving her a cock headed look from the side and she just gave a small, helpless shrug in reply. What could she say? This was extremely awkward!

“The crowds, definitely,” replied Grimwald without missing a beat, “I’m a real people person. Spent a lot of time as a youth just crowd watching. You’d be amazed the things you can learn by watching the day to day of folk’s lives. Their patterns become apparent, and... well that’s useful for all sorts of reasons.”

“Kind of like you’re doing now?” asked Raindrops with a heavy hint of suspicion.

“In a way,” Grimwald said, flicking his wrist and producing a few popcorn bits between his talons, ones that hadn’t looked like they were there before but Ditzy could only assume he’d picked up when he’d grabbed the bags earlier. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you mares a little better. That’s the whole point of the Contest, isn’t it?”

He tossed the popcorn into his mouth and chewed with a grin, while Ditzy said, “It is.”

“Hmm, I can tell I’m unsettling you a tad. Still sore over our little tussle?” Grimwald asked, staring at her with a disturbing lack of blinking.

“Hm? Did you and Mister Grimwald fight?” Dinky said with open curiosity and a strange, half frown on her face, “I didn’t see anything.”

“The mirrors didn’t quite catch us, tiny bright eyes,” said Grimwald before Ditzy could answer, “And yes, your ma and I had ourselves a scuffle that ended in a draw. Thought maybe she was upset at me over it.”

Dinky’s ears flopped about as she tilted her head, looking at Grimwald with an innocent stink eye, “You didn’t hurt my mamma did you?”

Grimwald made a show of shivering and shaking his head, “I went very easy on her my protective little filly. Wouldn’t want to incur your anger, after all.”

Dinky nodded sagely, “Mmmhmm, you play nice with my mamma during the Contest or you’ll have to answer to me.”

“Well and truly noted,” Grimwald said, then to Ditzy, “So is our one on one rubbing you wrong, bright eyes?”

Ditzy was silent for a few long seconds before saying, “I have some lingering... concerns.”

“Figured as much. Tell you what my little pony, it’ll be a few days before the Contest of Strength and we might find a good chance to air things out there. Before then, if you feel keen on the idea, I’m going to introduce you to a friend of mine. Gwendolyn Var Bastion. She’s kind of rough around the edges but she’s an, mmm, artist with a sword. If I ask her I imagine she can give you some pointers before you and I have another go with each other. Should make a fairer competition, eh?”

Ditzy was taken aback enough to find herself staring blankly at the griffin for a time, long enough for Dinky to pause in eating her popcorn to reach up and give her mother a quick boop on the nose. Ditzy shook herself and said, “Do you mean training or something like that? Because I don’t really know anything about how to use a sword.”

“Sword, pike, shield, hoof, rolling pin, chairs, I’m pretty certain Gwen can show you a few things, even a completely helpless novice like you.” Grimwald seemed to only gain more energy as he talked, smiling almost to himself, “Oh yes, I’m liking this idea. Gwendolyn really does shine better when she gets to play mother hen, and you’re just the kind of pet project she’d sink her talons into.”

“Hey!” snapped Raindrops, “My friend isn’t a toy for you griffins to toss between you. If Ditzy doesn't want to do it then she doesn’t want to do it.”

“Actually,” Ditzy said, wings fluttering slightly, her walled eyes starting to brim with a little energy of their own, “I didn’t say no yet, Raindrops.”

“Yeah, but Ditzy,” Raindrops leaned over to her and whispered, “I wouldn’t trust this guy to watch a houseplant, let alone actually help you in any way. This is obviously just something he’s doing for some kind of weird scheme or just get his jollies watching his friend beat you around a training yard.”

But Ditzy was already shaking her head. In her mind she’d already decided. She couldn’t afford to just sit around being scared of Grimwald. She didn’t doubt he had nefarious intentions of some sort. He just oozed insincerity, even with the affable personality. But if she was going to understand him at all, and make something positive come out of this, she had to be willing to extend a hoof. Even if she’d have to use that same hoof to give him a smack across the noggin.

“It’ll be okay Raindrops,” she said, “Trust me, okay?”

She put her hoof out to Grimwald, “I accept. I’ll be happy to meet your friend and try to learn whatever she can teach me.”

“Excellent!” Grimwald said, clasping her hoof and giving it a firm shake, “I think this is going to be the start of something enlightening for both of us, bright eyes.”

----------

Much later that evening seven mares situated themselves around the central living room of their quarters, save for Princess Luna as she glided around the space with soft flickers of light from her horn saturating the walls in several places before she gave a satisfied nod and turned to the ponies in the room.

“I have secured this place from any eavesdropping magic and soundproofed it as well. None shall hear what we discuss.”

Trixie closed the window she’d been looking out of at the forest of lights from the still very active festival and trotted to the center of the room. Her friends were all seated on the couches or chairs situated about, and Princess Luna went to stand between them, looking to Trixie with a questioning gaze.

“Thanks for coming, Princess. I wasn’t sure if this was something that we should bring to you now, but after talking it over with the girls we all think it's best we’re all on the same page.”

“I await what news you bring, my student. After the events of today I,” Luna paused, giving a small, wry smile, “I thought perhaps I may have had to hold you back from starting further quarrel with our Shouma neighbors, but I see you kept a calm head.”

“Given what that kirin almost did I’m not exactly feeling the peace, love, and harmony of Equestrian virtue,” Raindrops said, then glanced at Ditzy, “Some of us are a lot better at giving folks second chances.”

“I was not without my own anger at what occurred,” said Luna, for a moment her blue eyes seeming to glow with a cerulean inner fire, “I made it plain to Empress Fu Ling that any further such ‘accidents’ would not be tolerated without consequence. However,” her eyes locked on Trixie, “I am also willing to grant that Dao Ming was provoked perhaps beyond what was... sporting.”

Trixie coughed, adjusting her hat, “Yes, well, you were the one to teach me about taking advantage of my opponents weaknesses.”

“True, but I was not intending that to be a lesson taken into an event of honorable and friendly competition,” said Luna, but made a sweeping gesture with her wing as if to banish further talk of the matter, “Regardless I know you did not bring me here for discussing that matter, and it is closed for now assuming that you and the Empress’ progeny can get along for the rest of the Contest. So tell me, what do you wish to say?”

Trixie gave Luna the rundown of her attempt to visit Dao Ming and the subsequent encounter with Kenkuro, including the warning of some potential threat to the safety of both the island and the Contest, albeit from the less than entirely reliable visions of a minotaur seeress.

Trixie had already informed Carrot Top, Ditzy, and Raindrops, bringing them up to speed before Luna arrived, so it was only the Princess of the Night who looked mildly surprised and gained a contemplative look for a minute after Trixie was finished speaking.

“I can understand your hesitance to bring this to me. It is not the most clear of warnings,” said Luna, eyes ponderous, “Yet I know enough of the labyrinth seers of the minotaur realm to not discount it.”

“So they can actually get visions of the future, and have it be accurate, like a fortune teller?” Lyra asked.

“Fortune tellers are accurate?” asked Carrot Top, “Last time I went to one she just muttered over a crystal ball I’m pretty sure was bought at a discount thrift store and told me I’d get a cold the next week. Turns out it was a flu. Never did see that fortune teller again.”

Luna cleared her throat, “Ahem, while I cannot speak in any detail of depth concerning the labyrinth seers, I have met several in my time, and while not all of them possess what they call ‘corner sight’, it is very real. As Kenkuro claimed, not always accurate. You see, ‘corner sight’ refers to the ability to only see around the bend of a corner in the grand labyrinth the minotaurs view all of life's decisions as. Whatever this Greysight saw it was only a glimpse of one possible bend in the path. Even my own powers of divination cannot see the future any clearer, though that domain was always more belonging to my sister than I.”

“Do you think Corona is the threat Greysight is seeing?” asked Ditzy, a hard frown darkening her features like a tiny cloud.

“We’ve been over that,” said Trixie, “Much as it galls me to say, I can’t see Corona trying anything here. There’s far too much stacked against her and she can’t be crazy enough to think that taking on her sister, plus Princess Cadenza, and all of us with the Elements is a good idea.”

“On top of that,” said Cheerilee, “The warning sounded more to me like we needed to watch out for something more subtle than Corona dropping solar flares on us. Some kind of threat from the shadows. That’s not Corona’s style at all.”

“Maybe she’s learning from past mistakes?” suggested Lyra, shrugging her hooves, “I mean it's not like going all out worked for her last time, so maybe she’s decided to try the subtle approach? I mean, why is she even here, with her little fan club, if she didn’t have some kind of plan in mind to help her take over Equestria?”

“Allow me to be concerned with my sister,” Luna said firmly, “Our confrontation may be inevitable but I know that her intentions here are, at least for the time being, not hostile.”

“So the question now is what are we to do about this warning, if anything?” Trixie asked the room.

“There isn’t much we can do,” said Cheerilee, “Without more to go on at least. You said you ran into something strange already, Trixie, what was it?”

“I’ve already told Luna this, but when I first arrived...” Trixie recounted her odd compulsion to follow a path leading to the grave markers of the ancient champions who died stopping Rengoku, and how she also encountered Dao Ming there who claimed to feel the same compulsion.

“That’s super weird. You were being mind controlled do you think?” asked Carrot Top, shuddering. “Could it have been ghosts?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” said Raindrops, though Trixie noticed the pegasus’ mane was bristling a tad and she seemed to fidget in her seat as she looked at Luna, “Right?”

Luna’s look was rather cryptic as she said, “Not in the manner you are thinking, no. As for what happened to Trixie and the kirin heiress, my only theory at the moment is that something about the spell interlaced with that site reacted with Trixie and Dao Ming’s own personal magic fields. The spell there is one of the anchors that keeps the barrier up around Rengoku. I hate to think it, but the threat may be tied to it. Thus my suggestion would be to continue the Contest and be focused upon that, but to be watchful of any groups acting strangely in regards to that site and the other anchor points.”

“How many of these anchors are there?” asked Lyra, leaning forward with her tail swishing in interest, “Are they sites like those graves too?”

“In a sense,” Luna said, “Each anchor is tied to the events of that long ago day. One is the spot where Celestia and I stood, using our combined might to keep Rengoku still while our champions assaulted the fortress. The other anchor point is where the Warlord drew her last breath, after her daughter dragged her wounded body from the fallen fortress.”

Ditzy held a hoof over her mouth, “That must’ve been terrible. A daughter shouldn’t have to watch her mother pass like that... why put a spell in such a place?”

“It is difficult to explain, Ditzy Doo, but certain spells as stronger if tied to places of emotional resonance. There are other factors, but please trust me when I say I do not have a reason yet to burden you with such information,” said Luna, casting her gaze around the room, to each mare in turn.

“I shall alert my Shadowbolts to be on high alert, and to watch the anchor points. Until we know more there is little else to be done, but I thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Luna said, then slowly smiled, “I am proud of all of you. You fought well today. The Contest is far from over, and I ask that despite these dark tidings you still try to enjoy yourselves and focus on the events to come. Whatever danger may lurk we shall guard against it, and if it rises, deal with it together while in good camaraderie with our neighboring nations and their champions.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” said Trixie, glad that they’d chosen to tell Luna about Kenkuro’s warning. They might not know what to expect in the coming days, but whatever it was, they’d be ready for it.

----------

Thickly overgrown and with trees bunched densely like a maze, even the moon’s light couldn’t illuminate the darkness that saturated the forest. Hugging the massive fallen form of ancient Rengoku, the fortress cast an even deeper shadow over the forest akin to tar that clung to the forest canopy.

Within this forest three figures met, all cloaked, and when they spoke even their voices were distorted so that even determining male or female was impossible.

“It seems you failed to accomplish your goal this first day,” said the first voice.

“Hardly,” said the second voice, “This was just testing the waters, and oh are they deep. Don’t worry, I’ll fulfill my end of things, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun while doing so.”

“Just try to make sure you actually get the job done while having your fun,” said the third voice, “Also try not to give us away with your playtime.”

“And you, has your task been coming along?” asked the first voice of the third.

“Like our playful comrade I was able to ‘test the waters’, as it were. The sample I acquired was small, but it shows this will work. We’re lucky the third one showed up. It will make this go a lot easier than using our intended substitute.” said the third voice.

“Be careful,” said the first voice, “Do not underestimate our opposition.”

“Stop worrying so much, oh concerned one,” said the second voice, “We have things under control. You just make sure that when the time comes you hold up your end of our grand scheme, eh?”

“In that regard you need not fear. I shall do what I must when the time comes. As for my ‘concerns’, I have brought another. Come, show yourself.” commanded the first voice, and a fourth shadow emanated onto the scene.

“You didn’t say anything about adding another comrade to our little circle,” said the third voice.

“Hey, I don’t mind a fourth amigo,” said the second voice, “But what is their job going to be, exactly?”

“They are something of an insurance policy,” said the first voice, “They are here in case when the time comes for confrontation we need the additional strength.”

“Does this insurance policy speak?” asked the third voice.

“I speak,” said the fourth, “And I listen. We are in danger of discovery. One with the sight has seen the ripples of our actions already.”

“The minotaur, right?” said the second voice, “Should we deal with her?”

“No,” said the first voice, “A body would only complicate matters. We proceed as intended. By the time any on this island do learn the truth of our plans it will be already too late to stop us. Take heart, comrades, soon we shall all acquire what we desire.”

Author's Note:

Think I had the most fun writing Carrot Top and Frederick this chapter, mostly because CT remains among the L6 the one I have the most trouble feeling like I have a firm grasp of her character, so she's been interesting to write and figure out my own feel for her. Second up is Grimwald, who I'm enjoying writing his interactions with Ditzy. The flashback scene at the start was also a highlight for me, as I'd wanted to have such a scene earlier in the story but it just wasn't quite the right time to have it happen.

So, no real action this chapter, but a lot of character interactions and setting things up for the future. Hope everyone enjoys and as always thanks to everyone who provided me helpful comments in the workshop. All comments, questions, critiques, or random thoughts are welcome, and thank you all for reading!

Comments

[terrycloth]

There's a repeated bit at the end, with slightly different wording.

[thatguyvex]

7073875
Weird. Thanks for bringing that to my attention, as I certainly didn't spot it. Very strange, the gdoc looked fine. I remember that alternate bit was something that got erased earlier, but how it came back, or got mixed up in the middle of a different scene, I got no clue.

[Emeral Bookwise]

So, no real action this chapter, but a lot of character interactions and setting things up for the future.

Personally, I've always thought that the latter was the most important part of a good story, so I see absolutely no problem with that. Besides, we just came of two more action heavy chapters surrounding the Grand Melee, so all the more reason why I would think we as the audience need the lull just as much as the characters. A chance to decompress, reevaluate where things stand, and to build anticipation for what comes next.

Anyway, I've already provided most of my feed back when rereading, but to reiterates some highlights...

1) The empress is still a bitch. She is a bitch all the way down to her cold icy core, but buried somewhere deep inside one can at least now catch the barest glimpse of a still occasionally beating heart. This doesn't make her any less of bitch, but it does give her a few interesting facets to consider around the margins.

2) Grimwald is a creep. He straight up scares me and makes me nervous to go outside at night. Ditzy truly lives up to her element in their interactions, and I'm looking forward to seeing how this subplot plays out -- not like ever enjoyed sleeping in the first place.

3) Carrot Top and Fredrick are actually cute together now, with just the right balance of flirtatious teasing and genuine affection. I still wouldn't ever want to see them become a permanent item, but in limited doses they are certainly a enjoyable pair. Also, I think you've managed to in the process get a fairly firm grasp on Carrot Top herself as a character in general.

4) Just to put it on official record, the exact nature of the kami spirits concerns me greatly. I don't think they are going to be a problem within the context of this particular story, but I'm definitely nervous about the prospects of them showing up again in future stories. However there's no sense fussing prematurely. They aren't a problem yet, and if they ever become one that can be dealt with in due course.

---

All other things said, this is another great chapter in what continues to be great, albeit exceedingly LONG, story. So please, keep up the great work.

[RanmaChaos]

Another excellent chapter. You continue to do an amazing job.

[thatguyvex]

7074393

4) Just to put it on official record, the exact nature of the kami spirits concerns me greatly. I don't think they are going to be a problem within the context of this particular story, but I'm definitely nervous about the prospects of them showing up again in future stories. However there's no sense fussing prematurely. They aren't a problem yet, and if they ever become one that can be dealt with in due course.

Yeah, I'll start up a talk about this in the brainstorming thread, that way we can get the whole group in on hashing out just what we want to do with the kami, as you do have legitimate concerns and I don't want to step on toes here.

All other things said, this is another great chapter in what continues to be great, albeit exceedingly LONG, story. So please, keep up the great work.

Thank you kindly, and, heh, can you believe when I first started this I thought I could keep it the same size or even shorter than Hero of Oaton? Not sure why I thought that, given the cast of characters is twice the size of Oaton's.

[Talon and Thorn]

I saw it when you were willing to ride my wyvern rather than flee in terror.

So that's what he calls it

“Mister Grimwald, little bright eyes,” said Grimwald with a small bow as he handed the popcorn over to Ditzy and Raindrops, who passed one to Snails while Ditzy gave the third to Dinky.

Stranger Danger! Stranger Danger!

[DracoDarastrix]

I really loved this chapter. It may take a while for you to write them but they are always worth the wait.

Also I want to know what the Pixies did to Wodan coat. I know it must be a funny incident so please tell us about the joke.

[Fizzy Orange]

You are a master my friend! I am a terrible writer compared to you! So industrious! And all so excellent!

The Emperess... it feels like being distant from her daughter is NOT what she WANTS but what she feels she MUST do. I hope this barrier she's put in place can be broken down and they can start a proper relationship. Maybe if Dao Ming satisfy her criteria she can drop the facade? Confident Dao Ming has gained what she needed?

And the Tiger province shouldn't be in the North! That's Genbu's domain! It should be in the West!

I'll echo's Emeral's comment about Carrot Top and Frederick! It's strange how CT has no problem riding a wyvern but gets sick on other transportation. I wonder if she would be sick being flown by Princess Luna...

That bit at the end is interesting... I'm wondering if Grimwald isn't one of the member of the shadowy cabal? But at the same time I feel that would be too obvious... Maybe Tendaji's wife? And I bet one of Dao Ming's older sibling is involved in this.

They have a plan that requires the three Alicorns, there's no other reason they would say 'the third' showed up: they mean Corona!

[Nodikus]

Finally got time to read this.
The Empress seems like a real nice peice of work.
Wonder who the conspirators are, They seem sort of makeshift instead of an ancient movement.
Great work.

[The REAL Mister Pkmn]

Evil people in the shadows pulling some strings? That reminds me of something...

[Void Knight]

Ok, so Dao Ming tries to summon a Great Spirit, loses control of it, and very nearly kills another nation's Champions during what was supposed to be a friendly match, and gets rewarded for it? Something is wrong with how Fu Ling is approaching this. Unless... did Fu Ling know that Dao Ming had used that spirit chant once before? Because if not, being able to call down Raijin solo might have convinced Fu Ling that Dao Ming is strong enough to take the throne. That would at least make some kind of sense.

[swicked]

I'm loving this story, but so many words, so many chapters, and only one challenge down...

[Sleepy_The_Zebra]

I might not share this view, but I hope Carrot Top and Frederick stay together.

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

She paused, and finally her eyes moved, sliding towards the bed chambers, to rest upon the bundled form which had finally gone quiet under the maidservant’s tender care. Fu Ling’s lips quivered for a second, then went still as she looked away, “...is for her to never know about this conversation. You will swear to me, Kenkuro, that no matter what you will never speak to her of this, or the role I have charged you with. Pretend your interest in her is merely your own prerogative and no more. Am I understood?”

you probably mean preference

[TheGreatEater]

8524078
No prerogative fits.

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

Kenkuro said, reaching into the folds of the blue kimono he wore and drawing out a long, curved pipe that he placed in his beak, lighting it with a small tinder box after stuffing a wad of an odd red leaf inside it. “

ICR who said "Pipes are the perfect invention. They give a wise man something to do with his hands while he thinks and give a fool something to stick in his mouth."