Celestia Founding of Equestria

by Dan_s Comments

4) Wide Island Long-Cape

Wide Island Long-Cape
DISCLAIMER: The Dresden Files are the property of Jim Butcher

The others braced for the resumption of the battle against much longer odds. Celestia stepped forward, placing herself slightly in front of the Trickster, but within whatever defensive magics he'd cast. "Polonius Lartessa, you and your followers may depart this realm in peace, to never return," Celestia announced and kept a level stare at the woman, "This is no longer three jackals arguing over a wounded lamb. You face a bear armed with a machine gun. There will be no further warning or quarter given." Said bear had arrived unnoticed by anyone save Celestia and the Trickster.

The Fallen seemed confused by this. "I, challenged by a talking horse, oh, a talking unicorn, some electronic gimmickry? A toy to amuse the children?" Lartessa sneered.

She obviously hasn't noted who's behind her forces, Celestia marked and then bowed her head.

"On you it is then," Celestia said, flared her wings and let forth a tremendous burst of light over the assembled fallen.

The humans hosts shied from the intensity of the light, and the knowledge of what a similar light-burst had done to some of them and their crumbled allies, but behind them, scything them down like wheat stood a man-like creature with a sword. The blade was easily 6 feet long and shaped like a striking serpent. It sliced through the hosts without a sound. Lartessa only realized her danger when she had lost all but two of her followers. Her spell to spirit herself away failed and the man cut her down too. The man in the elegant but out of fashion business suit wiped the bloodied blade on Lartessa's clothes then it vanished from his hand. He wiped a hand over his bald head, checked it for blood, others' definitely not his own, and looked at the collection of beings staring at him.

Only then did the mystically sensitive receive his true aura and presence, and all of them save the Trickster reeled back from the unparalleled feeling of wrongness radiating off the man as he approached the house and loped up the steps. He gestured and the damaged door and facade were restored to the house. He regarded all those within with a cold expression, but a faint smile crossed his face as he glanced over the Trickster and Celestia.

"You cannot be here," McCoy whispered as his knuckles whitened on the staff he held.

"Blessings on all those within," he said, and entered.

Luna, Charity and the children had returned, and stared at the newcomer. The corpses of the first of the Fallen had mouldered to unrecognizable heaps. The man strode in looking at them all, then his eyes locked on Molly. The girl whimpered in fear and tried to bury her face in her father's side. Michael put his arms around her.

The figure fixed his gaze on Michael, nodded his approval and approached just out of arm's reach of the other man. Celestia glanced at Luna, but her sister was as confused as she was.

"So, speed dialer, you have your audience, and you no longer wish to talk?" the figure said, cold but vaguely amused by the entire scenario.

"Who are you?" Luna's admirer demanded and broke away from his mother and Luna to stand with his father to defend Molly.

The figure knelt so he was eye to eye with the boy. "I, am Crazy Uncle Ethyl."

The boy paled, but stood his ground, fists clenched and ready to throw himself at the much larger man. Murphy looked one step away from throwing herself at the boy to tackle him out of the way. The man made a palms open gesture, but stood and again focused on Molly.

"You ignore the advice of your parents, as if they did not understand there are things far darker then your experience. Fool. You think your paltry talents would be of use to me? You barely know who you are, and you expect to be anything but a morsel to be snatched off the plate? FOOL!" he thundered the last. He pointed at the Trickster, "He saw my limitless power, and countered with a show of understanding. You cannot match that. Arrogant child who thinks she knows everything. All you know is wrong, watered-down pablum, or incomplete. You think you can even have an opinion about the world, you who think that just looking at pictures of it will grant you knowledge? Or wisdom? My kind bestrode the world before even the dinosaurs, and we will walk it again. Nothing and no one can stop that. You think we can be stopped by your paltry magics. I have cast aside magics that would shatter all here, because they were judged weak and ineffectual.

"You assume that world is divided into good and bad, where in truth, the vast power of the universe simply does not care about you. You think you and your feelings are the center of the world. No one cares. Save those you try to drive away. You think you and your kind have accomplished anything. You are dust motes in the cosmic scheme of things. You cling to the illusion that you have some say in the order of the world. You are less than gossamer in the wind, this planet will grind you all to dust, and we will see this planet consumed by the fire of it's own sun. We are eternal. Our beginning and our end are beyond your ability to comprehend, let alone control, and we are not impressed that you can crib together a rite to disturb our peace."

He glanced at Michael, and then gently took Molly's chin and turned her face to look at him. "Let me tell you what you have heard a thousand times at your parents' knee and still do not understand. He Who Must Not Be Named has admitted in his own holy books that he is jealous of the affection of humans. Imagine if you can, the Pygmalion of Existence has fallen in love with his own creation and demanded to be first, not only, but first, in your affections. And you would draw me into conflict with that, how dare you?" He released her chin and stepped away. "How DARE you?"

"MiLord," the Trickster said and caught Crazy Uncle Ethyl's eye. Then he shuddered a bit at the intensity of the gaze.

The creature steeled himself and returned his attention to the girl. "I cannot speak for 'I Am' more eloquently that been done by word and deed, words and deeds you have heard endlessly, but not understood. He Who Must Not Be Named sent endless servants to be killed, and even his own son to be slaughtered by you, to break the contract with the Evil Fool your ancestors signed for the souls of all your kind. And you refuse to see the magic of that action? You refuse to understand that the first thing power requires is sacrifice of yourself, not of others? I came not because I feared my slave was in danger, but because a fellow student warned that my teacher was in danger." He pointed at the Trickster. "That one had the unmitigated gall to suggest that being my servant, would not serve me. That being a free and independent being who allied to my cause out of friendship or enlightened self-interest was more valuable. He also had the absolute effrontery to be correct. A lesson learned from the same sources you have been steeped in since birth, yet none have permeated you. That the mightiest want, not fawning slaves following, but equals walking beside them! When you have learned that lesson. When it is part of you, bone and soul, as your parents understand it. Then you are worthy of considering. Not until then. I have enough thralls."

Judging he'd done all necessary he turned to McCoy and his friend. Both men suddenly went from powerful mages, to rabbits caught in a flashlight beam. "And you. I almost pity you. I do not blame the girl for her foolishness, with mentors and examples such as you. Let me tell you the great lie that you've convinced yourselves of, and that you spread the poison of to whomever you can. That the Outsidersss are coming to get you. That your ruthless allies are all that stand between you and them. There is no them. There is only one. No other world hold his attention and rage as this one does. No other world has as high a population of vampires and elves so entwined with the humans. So, my seed-bearing ants, complete the syllogism yourselves, and see the truth. Mind unwarping, isn't it?"

He turned to the Trickster, and for once, the Trickster looked afraid. Then the man steeled himself to receive what 'Crazy Uncle Ethyl' did to him. "This world judges by the appearance and the facade, not the truth," Crazy Uncle Ethyl said.

"I've seen that, sir. And while there was the appearance of disrespect, that was not my intention in the slightest," the Trickster said.

"There must still be the appearance of displeasure and punishment." Crazy Uncle Ethyl gestured at him and the Trickster collapsed. "I leave him helpless in the hands of his enemies." Then he stared at McCoy. "And considering that I slaughtered twenty-five of the Fallen on the chance he would need my aid. How will I deal with those who abused him beyond what I judge fair and necessary? I am not, He Who Must Not Be Named, though I am as jealous of the love of my chosen as 'I Am'." The smile he gave the two men, the first he'd really shown, sent shivers up Celestia's spine.

"Charity Carpenter, you may call on me, at his need." He gestured towards Michael. "While I do not understand your ways, slaughter is easily understood by all." Crazy Uncle Ethyl gestured and an empty pizza box flew to his hand. Then the 29 coins and the blob of silver collected inside it.

"Thank you," Charity said, "How do I?"

He shut the box. "My name, the one you know. The rest of you." He stared at McCoy and then at Ivy. "Conjure with it at your own risk. I would send your boy to study with the detective, both could use it. His spirit is his father's, but his grasp is as poor as your daughter's, and the detective has naught to anchor her to the future."

"Sir," Michael said, "What are you going to do with those?"

The smile he gave Michael was genuine amusement. "A bit from the Trickster's handbook. I am going to punch Uriel in the nose, and tell him he can't have them, and in a show of detente, we will together destroy them utterly." With that he was gone.

Celestia let out a breath. "That went far better than I hoped." She felt herself shaking with shock or relief she wasn't sure.

"You took an awful risk, sister," Luna said, as she approached from where she'd been keeping the younger children corralled.

"What was that?" one of the other detectives asked.

"Deus ex Serpens," Celestia replied, and glanced down at the sleeping Trickster. "Detective Murphy, I think you're going to require a body cavity search and some minor surgery to get all the weapons off him, when you arrest him. It might be safer just to put him in an isolated area, with Luna and myself."

"How extensive are we talking about?" Murphy asked.

Kincaid held up the sniper rifle he'd been carrying. "He pulled this out of his pants' pocket."

The poor detective just stared incredulously at Celestia.
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Celestia and Luna helped get the Carpenter brood all aboard their new van, and headed home with a couple of boxes of pizza. She and Luna endured endless hugs, invitations to tea parties and questions they had no idea what the source of were.

The police placed handcuffs on the Trickster and relieved him of an impressive array of weapons, before placing him in the back of the squad car. During the process, Kincaid and Ivy, then McCoy and Injun Joe slipped away.

That left the detectives with the terrible problem of a kidnaping the kidnaped refused to testify about. Thirty murders in full view of them, but zero evidence, and two large ponies who were either under arrest, or in protective custody.

"We walk in with these two, instead of taking them to the police stables, the Captain is going to have my badge," Murphy said as she looked at the pair, "And do I call you Princess Celestia, your Royal Highness, or what? Do you have diplomatic immunity, or an embassy I need to contact?"

Celestia was nervous about this. The children had told of 'Princess Celestia's' exploits and kingdom in great detail. But I am just Celestia. I know nothing of that, my home . . . She felt a stab of regret that this adventure had driven all thought of her fallen friends from her mind. My home is gone, and this 'Equestria' is just someone elses' dream. The Twinkle Wishing Star isn't going to get me out of this.

"Technically, we don't exist, practically, we should stay with him," Celestia said and pointed a wing at the Trickster, "Both so he won't go looking for us, and as an anchor. If we don't leave the cell, he won't. As for explaining us away."

Celestia looked at Luna, who smirked at her sister. Luna's horn lit, and two human women stood before the detective. "Adjoining cells, or lock us up togther," Celestia suggested.

"First I'm going to get you some clothes, or at least a blanket," Murphy said as her cheeks reddened.

"Why?" Luna asked, "It's not that cold. And clothing's uncomfortable."

The detective just shook her head at the pair.
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The cells were on an upper floor of the police station. They were rarely used, and Detective Murphy had said she didn't know why they were there. Celestia noted that the bars were wrought iron, not steel and that there were no light fixtures within the cell itself. I know what these cells are for, she thought as she and Luna carried the limp form of the Trickster within and set him on one of the two bunks. As she and Luna tucked him in, she looked around the beige sameness of the cell and the windowless room containing it. And I suspect that the detectives do too, she thought.

"Any word on Dresden or Marcone?" Murphy asked as she locked the cell door with a very simple-looking key.

The young police officer shook his head, but kept staring at Celestia and Luna. Murphy shoved him back out of the room containing the cell, then followed him out.

"I think you over did our attractiveness," Celestia accused.

"Just translated it straight over," Luna said, and tugged at her ill-fitting shirt and pants. "I wish Rainbow Dash were here, she could make something of these." Luna paused and suddenly broke down. Celestia enfolded her sister in a hug, grateful for the excuse to let her own tears flow freely. She moved herself and her sister to the other bunk in the cell, and they stayed holding each other, tears and small cries of pain flowing as they remembered their lost friends and home, until they fell asleep.

There dreams were running and playing with their friends. Yet somehow knowing that soon it would end. Both took the time to tell their friends everything they'd meant to tell them when they were alive, but foolishly thought they'd have the time to do so later.

Now it is too late, Celestia thought as she woke. She was lying down, covered in a beige blanket, and mutually entangled with Luna. She kissed her sister's human forehead where her horn would be, and let Luna waken gently. She watched as her sister awakened, the adorable facial expressions, the cute, little noises, and finally the opening of her big eyes. I know Luna hates being thought of as adorable, but even as a human, she's adorable.

Celestia hid her expression before Luna fully woke up, but it was a struggle not to grin. When she couldn't hold it any longer, she hugged her sister, so she wouldn't see her smile.

When she felt she could hide her grin, she released Luna, who had been hugging her back.

"You do realize we could sneak over there, and wake him up the same way," Luna suggested, "Although it would probably shock him out of a year's growth."

Celestia snorted at that.

"I'm already awake, I just was enjoying you two being adorable," the Trickster said, and chuckled, "Besides, as hotels go, it's not bad. Three hots and a cot it isn't. But it's a lot better than many places I've recovered from battles."

Celestia caught Luna's arm as she tried to throw a pillow at him. She shook her head and stepped out of the bed. A moment later, both alicorns were returned to their normal forms.

"I am not adorable," Luna told him.

"I don't think that word means what you think it means," he replied and sat up. Then his expression was sort of a frown, if you were drawing one while suffering the hiccups. "Okay, someone decided not to do a sonogram with a ordinance tech standing by."

"Because they left you with your weapons?" Celestia asked and pointed at the table outside the cell with many of his weapons stacked there. "As I understand it, they were cataloged and locked in an evidence locker."

"That would hardly have stopped them," the Trickster said, "I am wondering who gave me the bath."

"It happened at the hospital when they gave you a quick check up and a few checks for your weapons in obvious places."

"I'll have to insist on flowers and dinner next time," the Trickster said and looked around. "Odd, I would have figured the Feds would be here by now, taking over jurisdiction and spiriting me off to their true masters."

"Crazy Uncle Ethyl 'put the fear of God' into them," Luna suggested, then fixed on Michael's book, "I haven't finished reading that."

"It has a very strange ending," Celestia said, "You've read it, was he crazy, or is that really going to happen?"

"It's a disguised screed against the Roman Empire, or that's what I believe. Like the other weird one is about Antiochus Epiphanes, not the king described," the Trickster said as he looked around, "But some people take it literally. Let's just say the figure who inspired all of it has one of the weirdest senses of humor I've ever encountered. One of the things I like about them. Speaking of weird, where are my pants?"

Celestia couldn't help it, she fell over laughing. The stress of the last few days finally bubbled out as she laughed at the absurdity of it all. She heard the Trickster chuckling at her, and Luna clucking her tongue, but Celestia couldn't help it and couldn't stop.

"Better?" the Trickster asked as Celestia sobered enough to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Much," she said, and looked at Luna, "It just struck me funny."

"Nothing wrong with laughter as a safe way to blow a gasket. People have broken down with laughter at funerals. Stress gets out, no shame in that," the Trickster said and scratched her behind the ears. Celestia laid her head down on his bed so he could easily use both hands.

Celestia just enjoyed the attention for a while, then when her brain stopped being goo and was just relaxed, she thought about something that should have disturbed her. "How do you deal with stress? If you're 'at work' all the time?"

"I give stressed out ponies ear scratches," he said, "Don't assume I get no benefit."

Luna walked over. The lock on the outer room's door opened. Celestia and Luna were on their feet, returned to human form and clothed, before the door opened.

The man who walked in first made Celestia think of an officious mouse. Detective Murphy was right behind and utterly furious, and Mister Marcone was the last of the trio. While the mousy man was carrying a brief case and Murphy looked like she wanted to strangle both men, Mister Marcone was carrying a long, cylindrical bag over his shoulder.

"I really think this is a dirty trick, even for you," Murphy said, "A golf bag, really?"

"If he's arranged bail, then he's helping you, Detective," the Trickster said, "There are false Federal Agents on their way here to demand my custody, except once I'm gone, all proof of their bonafides will disappear, leaving you holding the bag for losing a dangerous prisoner. At least with Mister Marcone, you have a trail."

"You've been through this before?" Murphy asked, then stared at the table filled with weapons just outside the cell, "Those were all . . . do I even want to know?" She looked at Marcone. "How did you know?"

"A little bird told me," Marcone said.

"I've been killing elves most of my adult life. I know how they operate," the Trickster said, "And those too were logged in, and escaped." Another officer entered, set a wrapped bundle in front of the cell door and pushed it through. The Trickster gestured and the bundle flew to his hand. Inside were his clothes. He vanished, and the clothes began assembling on the invisible figure. "Being naked scares the ladies," the Trickster said.

Celestia snorted at that. Neither Murphy, nor Luna seemed pleased. Once his hat was on, he reappeared.

"So you could have snuck or blasted out of here at any time?" Murphy asked.

"No, only when it was funny," the Trickster said, "So this is funny, although funny strange rather than funny ha ha."

Murphy glowered at the man, although Marcone seemed closer to smiling, all three remained fairly stoic.

"Nagasaki-san, you've been remanded into Mister Marcone's custody on bond. He will be held responsible if you do not meet your court date," the mousy man said.

"I understand, do I need to sign anything before I leave?" the Trickster asked.

"A property pass that everything we took as evidence has been returned. That's going to ruin the case," Murphy said.

Marcone unzipped the top of the bag and all the equipment leapt from the table and deposited itself in the bag. The scene didn't perturb him, he just closed the top of the tube, but left it unzipped.

"As I said, it's a case you didn't really want prosecuted in Chicago," the Trickster said, "Are Celestia and Luna also under arrest?"

"No, protective custody," Murphy said, "They are free to go when you do."

"Then I think we need to take Mister Marcone up on his very generous offer," the Trickster said, reached in his pocket and pulled out a clear, rough gem the size of his thumb.

Celestia noted Marcone stared at the gem as the Trickster handed it to Murphy.

"That's to compensate the City of Chicago for the clothes I'm afraid Celestia and Luna still need and will be taking with them," the Trickster said, "I suggest to take that immediately to Internal Affairs and get their read on the legal means to transfer that to the city's coffers." He looked at Marcone. "Shall we go?"

"You can't just hand this to me and leave," Murphy said as they walked through the squad room.

"I certainly can. The only trouble will be why it wasn't on the manifest of items taken from me. I doubt IA will believe that I conjured it out of thin air," the Trickster said, "So handing it over to them as soon as possible will solve a whole host of problems, and gives you an excuse to be elsewhere when the phony Feds show up."

"They'll start an investigation," Murphy hissed.

"Of course, and you'll be found blameless, and none of your people will be implicated because no one ever saw that gem before now," he said as he signed the property pass, and added 'the gem was on my person, hidden, not in the property locker' and made four rather complicated designs beside the statement. "There you go, all done."

"There's no way they are going to believe that," Murphy said as she recovered the paper.

"That is unfortunately not my problem. I suspect you'll be given direction to forget all about the case, and I strongly urge you to accept that advice," the Trickster said, "None of the principals will be available, and your principles will not be harmed."

"You think your 'elves' will really do something like that?" Murphy asked.

"After the hole that has been punched in their schemes over the last few days, I would be willing to guarantee it. If we were in Las Vegas, I'd be willing to entertain a bet. None of those who consider themselves the-powers-that-be, will want to acknowledge that for a little while, they were reduced to insignificance." He stopped and stared at the detective, who stepped back defensively. "I apologize for down playing the trouble this has and shall cause you. But this isn't a police action, it's a war, and like it or not, you are trying to place yourself on the front lines. I'm a soldier, and it irritates me when untrained civilians interject themselves. There's no Geneva Convention in this war, and even if there were, most of my foes would be considered illegal combatants, and thus beyond the Conventions' protections. You are not in my chain of command, and with the stakes as high as they are, my chain of command would consider burning this star system to nothing as acceptable collateral damage. Today, I put that off, perhaps for a few years, but don't think you're ready to walk my road until you're ready for that level of decision-making and diplomacy." He tipped his hat and walked out with Marcone and the mouse.

"That was harsh," Mister Marcone said as they entered a vehicle large enough for Celestia and Luna to regain their usual forms and ride standing up. So they did. The mousy man was staggered, Marcone took it in without comment.

"Please no jokes about horses in the bed, Mister Marcone," the Trickster said as the vehicle began moving almost too smoothly to be detected. The windows of the vehicle were so heavily tinted that it was difficult to see through them.

"I have a proposition for you," Marcone said, "I have it on good authority that you are an expert in healing."

"My sword is better, but together we are the very best," the Trickster said, "Now, first, I don't take money for healing, beyond basic expenditures, which if you're taking us to the patient, is covered." The Trickster held up a hand to forestall Mister Marcone's counter. "If you feel the need to pay for the effort, I'd recommend giving a hefty finder's fee to whomever directed you my way."

Marcone nodded.

"Second, I don't want any information about the patient, other than their condition. The less I know, the less likely I am to become a threat to your operations. And I'd rather avoid such a contest."

"You have a suspicious mind," Marcone accused, but smiled at it.

"I've been on both sides of 'I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you'," the Trickster said, "I recognize a secure operation when I see one, and I intent to keep anything that endangers our lives out of my 'need to know'. The injury I need to know, or I'll find out on my examination. The source of the injury or disease, I don't need to know. If they have a disease, I need to know what it is, not who gave it to them."

"It's an old gunshot wound," Marcone said, "To the head."

The Trickster considered. "Difficult, but not beyond my abilities. I'd recommend we be brought to a 'neutral' location. I do my work and the patient returns to whatever institution they were in. That makes the connection even more tenuous."

"Most people wouldn't play it so cagey," Marcone said.

"Most people aren't trained in maintaining operational security. I can't inform, if I don't know," the Trickster replied.

Marcone looked at Celestia and Luna. "You two have been very quiet," he said.

"I have been observing," Celestia said.

"And what have you seen?" Marcone asked.

"That Nagasaki-san spotted that the person we're on our way to heal is very important to you, important enough to kill over maintaining his or her security. That while you were apparently talking about the patient, you were in fact talking about everything that has happened in the last few days. That the Trickster and you made a few, very subtle threats about maintaining 'operational security' over your respective parts in this. That each of you acknowledged that the other is too formidable to engage without incurring a cost beyond what the advantage would be worth. And that for us skipping out on the bail, you will receive a diamond as valuable as the one left to the City of Chicago." Celestia looked at the two men who stared back at her blank faced. "I suspect far more, but that's what I definitely know I saw."

The Trickster nodded. "You're learning, congratulations," the Trickster said.

"You also learned the real reason the Trickster, Nagasaki-san, cannot be bought," Luna said, "You lack the right currency. Nothing you have is beyond his ability to manufacture himself. Gold, jewels, documents and letters of reference. But you did learn he can be rented, as all his 'patrons' have learned, for a cause that intrigues him, by being a good intellectual or tactical puzzle, or that allows him to retain his humanity, helping a child."

"Neither of us mentioned the patient was a child," the Trickster said.

"Mister Marcone does not allow harm to come to children," Luna said, "It is logical that the patient is a child, or was a child when he or she was injured. Besides, I can see one who looks after children, as do I. This is no trap. The security is for the child's sake."

"That's a guess," Marcone said, "Sometimes those lead you astray."

"That's a warning not to delve too deeply," Celestia said and grinned at Luna's frown.

They arrived at a large house out in a wooded area. Celestia could tell the 'forest' had been created to screen the house, not grown naturally. Good grief, I'm already thinking about lanes of fire and range of the engagement, Celestia thought as she looked around and found the grassy area between the house and the woods too close for her liking, This would let an enemy get too close.

The men inside were the humorless types, no nonsense, and the Trickster got a more serious mien the instant he stepped through the door. Marcone acted more like he was entering a shrine than a home. Celestia nodded to Luna, they had to be on guard, because the pair who would normally be, were distracted.

The room seemed more like a stage than a bedroom, no matter how large it was. All the other rooms, even the hallways had windows, and signs of habitation: pictures, furniture, and trash cans. This windowless room was completely empty, even the hardwood floors had no rugs, and no furnishings cluttered the place, except for the bed. The young woman propped up in the bed under the single light fixture in the ceiling looked more artificial than the forest outside. The Trickster approached her and drew the scabbarded blade from the 'golf' bag. The men tensed, but Marcone waved them back, then indicated they should leave. The Trickster set the blade beside the girl and walked around her, staring at her and making comments in a language Celestia didn't recognize, and the sword answering in the same language. While Luna watched the walls floor and ceiling, on guard for treachery, Celestia watched Marcone for the same reason.

Finally, he sat on the bed beside her and carefully touched her hair. "It's been a long road, gettin' from there to here," the Trickster sang. His fingers moved, holding her head, while he sang the rather gentle song about indomitability and faith.

Celestia glanced around as she heard something answering the song, and realized it was neither the sword, nor the girl. The bodyguards reentered at the sound, and grew nervous as they too made the connection.

"You wanted magic, you must accept things beyond your experience," Luna told them.

The chorus strengthened as the Trickster worked. Moving his hands over the girl's skull. Finally, he stood up. "It's been a long road," he sang, completing his song and the treatment. He turned to Mister Marcone. "She'll need time to reacclimate, and a friend will be necessary, and yours was the only voice she heard in all that time."

"Yes," the man nodded as the Trickster and the two alicorns left the artificial seeming room and returned to the hallway and its natural light and windows.

Celestia knew at that moment, it wasn't over. There's more to this than we're seeing, she realized and glanced over to Luna, who had positioned herself to guard Celestia's flank. She's still smiling, being adorable, but she's watching and ready for treachery. Celestia kept her pleasant smile as she glanced around But from whom? she wondered as she watched, Marcone's men aren't enough, but does he know that, are more hidden elsewhere . . . or are the ones who hit him before going to hit him again, and his weakness, a courtesy to us, will allow them to strike again? I HATE thinking like this, but better to be able to, and be wrong, than be a victim.

The Trickster removed another diamond from his coat pocket, this one a brilliant blue, the size of a robin's egg, and handed it to Marcone as the girl was moved past them in a wheelchair. "Since it's unlikely we'll be here for the arrangement and trial, this should cover the lost bond."

"How do you know they won't send someone after you?" Marcone asked, pocketed the gem and smiled.

"Considering the local talent, that's like hiring a paperboy to arrest the President on a $10 parking ticket," the Trickster said, "They have very little idea of the scope of the universe, nor who is really in charge or how business is done out there."

Marcone raised his voice. "We'll be leaving, Nagasaki-san and his friends can leave half-an-hour after we do." He looked at the Trickster. "No objection that you should leave first, so I can't do something?"

"You aren't a stupid person. You wouldn't set off a firefight while she's here, and you saw what I can do back at the restaurant," the Trickster said, "As good as your best men are, they aren't in my league. Even leveling the building with an airstrike wouldn't be enough."

"I'd like to see you in action," Marcone said, "Against some of the troublesome people I've dealt with in the last few days."

"You can ask Detective Murphy, or Mister Carpenter. I think the mystical powers that be will be happy to see me out of their area of influence," the Trickster said and walked over to where Celestia waited with Luna.

As the three of them gazed out the picture window, and watched the reflections of Marcone's men in the glass, the Trickster whispered, "Be on your guard,"

Celestia nodded, and watched the forest overlaid with the image of the very dangerous, but very nervous men behind them. Marcone pushed the wheelchair the girl was in himself. She hadn't awakened, but Celestia knew that was a matter of time.

"Something smells here, but Mister Marcone and his charge are the only ones I'm sure aren't in on it."

"The car pulled up," Luna said as she pointed with her nose, "The same one that brought us. It could contain anything."

That car could conceal, and deploy a couple dozen, Celestia thought as no horde emerged from the car, or the woods around the building.

The Trickster nodded. They watched Mister Marcone help load the girl aboard the car, along with two of his men. Four more remained behind with the two alicorns to see to it they stayed put as the vehicle accelerated away. Accelerated more sharply than their previous experience with the car.

Celestia gasped as a body was flung from the vehicle.

"Dammit!" the Trickster cursed and gestured at the car. The vehicle slowed and rolled to a halt. "Your boss is in trouble," the Trickster shouted and disappeared, only to reappear on the grass at Marcone's side.

Celestia and Luna leapt through a set of glass doors they'd magicked open, and flew out towards the vehicle. The Trickster had checked Marcone and jogged towards the car. What stepped out of the neutralized car looked like things out of a horror story. Humanoid, but claws and fangs, some as shaggy as a wolf or bear, others with scales of armor like an armadillo. The five of them stood near the car. One held the girl upright by the throat.

"You should not involve yourself," the one who held the girl called. Its voice was clearly meant to be intimidating, but Celestia had experience with truly intimidating things, so she was unaffected as she landed near the Trickster and Luna landed to protect Marcone.

"Disintegrate," the Trickster said, pointed, and the girl glowed blue and vanished, along with the hand the monster had held her with, and some of the skin off his other arm.

While it screamed, the Trickster stared at the others. "Metal Storm," he said. Much of the outer shell of the car vanished, breaking into tiny flakes, and imbedding themselves by the hundreds in the monsters.

It's like they became pretty humans, and sprouted tiny, shiny leaves, she thought, but the creatures joined their fellow in thrashing about on the ground screaming.

The Trickster trotted back to Marcone with Celestia backing towards him while watching the kidnappers. Their agony wrenched her guts. But they attacked an innocent during an errand of mercy, she thought, I can't feel too much pity for them. If they had attacked Marcone directly, and left the girl alone, I doubt either Marcone or the Trickster would have reacted as brutally.

Luna had helped Marcone sit up, but his legs were twisted strangely, and his wore an expression of utter rage, directed at the Trickster.

"Bastard," Marcone breathed and began sweating.

"Theater, sir," the Trickster replied and glanced at the house, "Theater. I think you can guess what the magician did." When Marcone's expression contained a glimmer of understanding, the Trickster apologized, "This is going to hurt, about as much as when inflicted."

Marcone nodded, and the Trickster twisted the legs, returning them to a semblance of correctness with a loud pop. Marcone bowed his head, but did not cry out. The Trickster laid a hand on Marcone's head, and sucked in a hissing breath through clenched teeth, then blew it out.

"You're tougher than I thought," the Trickster said as he sat down, "That does hurt. Quite a lot in fact. However, I think we'll take our leave, and remember, you made a deal with me to let you take care of them. Whatever you do, it's less than I would have done. As long as they believe that, you're showing mercy."

Luna helped Marcone to his feet while Celestia did the same for the Trickster. The attackers' screams had reduced to piteous moans. The two men ignored them and stared at each other, taking their measure. Whatever they concluded, they parted amicably.

"Let's go," the Trickster told Luna and Celestia, "I think the departure order has changed."

"They aren't going to need our assistance dealing with those - ?" Luna began.

"Elves," the Trickster provided, "Not with the amount of steel I pumped into them. Given a week, they'll be back to functioning, but each piece is like a papercut soaked in salty lemon juice. They'll be well able to handle them. There's also the complication that this is two predator clans attacking each other, when evil fights evil, get some popcorn and get out of their way."

They vanished, to reappear in a small, comfortably furnished home that appeared to be surrounded by woods on all sides, natural this time. While Celestia stared through the window at the multitude of natural beauty outside, the Trickster collapsed in a chair.

"Never let them see you look exhausted or defeated, unless that's part of the plan," the Trickster said as he laid his head back, sinking further into the chair. "Being indefatigable is always good for the image."

"So why are you showing us?" Luna asked as she trotted over, "Begging for sympathy?"

"Hardly, just reminding you not to become the mask you wear. The reality is, that times you can actually be yourself will become fewer and further between as you gain power. People expect you to be 'on' all the time. So you have to treasure your down time." He stood and gestured. "There are beds that should handle a pony's size and weight, the food is mostly long-term storage, and there are pictures on most of it. If you need me, the telephone is linked to a switchboard, I'll have the operator patch me in as soon as possible. The language you speak isn't native here and will provide a fair amount of pronunciation problems."

"Why are you telling us all this?" Celestia demanded.

"Because wherever you do decide to resettle, you're going to wind up the leaders, or the wise folk, and a big part of that is simply being able to adapt, and to plan. Too many would-be leaders and heros can't disentangle the goals from the plan. Part of the speech I would have given Miss Carpenter is about making fast decisions. Staying with 'the plan' rather than using it to make a framework on which to make changes, leads you to defeat. Being able to improvise, and communicate those improvisations is the key. That's what I've been teaching. You find a wounded person on the street, what do you do?"

"Help them?" Luna said.

"How?" he asked, "Too late they died, now the angry lynch mob thinks you did it, what do you do?"

"Get out of there," Celestia said, "So you're teaching us to take the initiative and to be the quick-minded leader you are. To use the people around us as assets, and to make the decisions we need to make quickly and decisively. And then take down times like these to develop and refine the plans to act in the event of a disaster, crime or battle."

"Exactly. My birthplace shared a long land border with their neighbor. It was essentially unfortified, unheard of at the time. But both nations maintained plans for invading the other. They sometimes wargamed out the invasion, and on one instance, changed sides: our neighbors commanded the defense and we commanded the invasion," the Trickster said, "It's just good practice to be ready for anything, then when something similar comes up, you're ready. That doesn't mean that just because you're preparing for something, that it'll ever happen, Luna."

"What?" Luna asked and nearly jumped.

"I noticed around the time you heard those stories from the kids that your behavior changed." He walked over to Luna and began scratching her behind the ears. "You and Celestia nuzzled as often, but suddenly Celestia was initiating all the time. It used to be you who would start most of the time. You have to put it aside. Whatever happened in the stories, it isn't what happened to you, and if you dwell on it, you will be consumed by it."

Luna nodded. Celestia approached and nuzzled her sister.

"For all you know it may have been the only choice you had," the Trickster said, "I've done some pretty awful things, because the alternative was far worse. That 'ocean of blood against a mountain of skulls' comment was true. I have killed those who would never do me harm to my face, because they were the key in a much larger strategy or they were harming others by their actions. Sometimes you have to. Sometimes the alternative to a terrible thing is a worse thing. You do your best to minimize it, but in the end it must be done. The manager who makes sure the trains of poison gas make it to the enemy may be a lovely person who paints water colors and adopts all the local kids as his grandchildren, but if that one person dying prevents 100,000 dying from what his trains carry, he's a legitimate target."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Luna asked, her ears splayed back.

"It's supposed to tell you that you have someone else who's gone through it," the Trickster said, and yawned, "Sorry, but I'm going to spend tonight in my own bed, and leave the alarm clock outside."

"Can we meet whomever is in your base?" Celestia asked.

"No, at least not today or tomorrow. Your appearance, arrival and language barriers would cause trouble. They are also a bit rougher than I am, so right now, you need to rest and unwind. The girl wasn't the only one in need of time to acclimate," the Trickster said, "While it may seem like a good idea, running full-tilt so the memories can't catch up, it catches up to you in other ways. You get bored, stupid, and make a mistake. There's a time and a place to relax, and talk with someone. Tonight is that time, with each other. I may have a few people ready to talk to you tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you," Luna said and stepped up to nuzzle the Trickster and smiled at him.

He nodded and left through the door.

"Food, sleep, or talk?" Celestia asked, and felt the weight of the last few days bearing down on her.

"Nap," Luna said, and yawned hugely, "Then we can look at what's available and we can go from there."

Celestia nodded, and nearly nodded off, as the pair explored the house. Unlike the template they'd seen, the house was separated into rooms: kitchen, bathrooms, and several bedrooms. They enjoyed the wood paneled hallways, the painted rooms, and carpet on all the floors except the kitchen and bathrooms. The carpet seemed to depend on the room's purpose. Shag pile where you slept, almost a Berber in the corridors.

And colored to offset the amount of sun the room gets, Celestia realized from the fading sunlight coming in a few windows. They alighted in the bedroom with the huge bed large enough for both to settle into together. They put off their 'jewelry/raiments', carefully putting them in drawers of an empty chest, before retiring to the bed.

Celestia had a dreamless nap, then awoke, not refreshed, but wide-awake. She heard Luna's soft, steady breathing, and decided not to disturb her. She stared at the ceiling. The whorls in the paneling became images in her mind, like watching clouds. But her mind kept making them her friends, begging for help or running in terror. What afflicted them never resolved itself out of the wood. Just her friends, in danger, and her unable to do anything.

"If you're going to toss and turn," Luna said, "Then maybe you are awake enough to talk."

"I didn't mean to wake you," Celestia said.

"I was awake on and off for a while. I stayed that way when you started squirming," Luna said and stared where Celestia was looking, "What's wrong with the wood?"

"Just seeing patterns in it," Celestia admitted, "Uncomfortable patterns."

"I see wood," Luna said, "And don't tell me what you saw, I don't think I want to see it."

Celestia rolled over, and stared over the edge of the bed at the carpet. "It was our friends, and I couldn't save them."

"Neither of us could save them," Luna said, "I suspect that was intentional. That's what Matilda seemed to think." Luna draped a wing over Celestia. "It wasn't your fault that we survived and our friends didn't. Even if we'd been there, how could we have prevented the universe from unraveling around us?"

"There had to be something we could have done," Celestia said.

"Yes, we could have died. And all our friends represented would be gone. We at least remember them, and can inspire others to be like them," Luna said.

Celestia raised her head and looked at Luna. "When did you become so wise?"

"When I had to grow up. All of what we went through is to some purpose," Luna explained, "I have to believe that, or the universe is uncaring about basic goodness."

"That makes us a very important piece," Celestia replied, and nuzzled Luna, "Why do I still feel like a helpless pawn."

"If what we are involved in is as vast I as think it is," Luna said, "Then even very powerful pieces are pawns for the players."

"So we are still toys for someone else?" Celestia said.

"Or pieces to a greater puzzle. And if we are just pieces, someone has gone to great lengths to see to it that we are the strongest pieces possible," Luna said, "Our armor, our eyes, the lessons about tactics and politics, meeting new allies, and seeing what real enemies look like up close. Nothing we and the other ponies faced were like the enemies we have faced since our kidnaping. As they said 'a child's dream made by adults who don't understand children'. The Carpenter children were inspired by us. Even Kincaid enjoyed the entertainment, and someone who would have been so completely out of place with our friends I cannot imagine. Even the Eyelord would accept a teaparty or three."

"So you think we're here for something greater?" Celestia asked.

Luna bowed her head. "Or nothing that's happened means anything. I can't believe that. I don't believe we are 'destined' to do this, but we're being made ready for the opportunity."

Celestia hugged her sister. "I hope you're right. I just think we've done a poor job of representing our friends to the world."

"Is that what matters?" Luna asked, "Yes, they were delightful people. But they just existed. Since then, we've seen people who strive and grow, who have fantastic adventures and have to face things beyond their comprehension. Our friends and their adventures were simple things than even the Carpenter children could have solved in hours, not days or weeks. 'Crazy Uncle Ethyl's' speech to Molly was about complacency, and we, our friends and us, had that in buckets. Now we are uncertain, and we're better ponies for it. Even if I fall to darkness and you banish me for a thousand years, there's hope, but it'll be a long time coming. That's what we never had. We never needed it. Things worked out, without us working at them. I relish the chance to struggle, strive and grow."

Celestia hugged Luna tightly, and found herself crying. "You've grown up so much," Celestia said, not certain if she was proud of her wisdom, grieving her lost innocence, or both.

After a time Celestia released Luna, although her sister held on to her. "I don't want you to think I don't miss them too," Luna said, "But they're gone, we survived, and if we truly honor them, then we must represent what they stood for. Not dresses, makeovers and tea parties, but innocent fun, decency, kindness, generosity, loyalty, honesty and laughter. If we can't show those are real power, real magic, then losing them was in vain."

Celestia just stared at her.

"I don't disregard mourning for them, but I think they would want us to live for them instead," Luna explained.

Celestia broke down again, hugging Luna tightly. "I'm afraid," she said, "What if we can't, what if we aren't good enough?"

"Then we fail," Luna said as she stroked Celestia's mane, "But we fail doing our best. And I have the feeling if we put aside our pride, we now have a host of people to call on for help. Maybe we're just friends of a friend, but I think that puts us in a select group with some very powerful and clever people." Luna snuggled against Celestia. "That's what friends really do, help when other friends ask."

Celestia nodded, but held Luna for a while. They fell asleep that way and woke to the rays of light coming in the window.

Celestia rose and fixed breakfast for both of them. Then as she sat at the dining room table, she went over the dossiers for the various other places the Trickster had volunteered to relocate them. She had initially segregated them depending on the conflicts there, now she read about the people she would be aligned with if she relocated there. The separation of 'yes', 'no' and 'maybe' was very different. I could claim it gives me insight on him, but it really gives insight on me, Celestia thought, Would I really turn up my muzzle at someone who 'enjoyed a friendly tussle' occasionally, and concentrate on someone who passively sits and just treats the symptoms of evil? She picked up one dossier, detailing a delightful group, who seemed would be a perfect match for her and Luna, but she'd discarded it because the constant low-level war against dark forces, yet the war only took up to a few days a month, or a week at a time, and part time at that. The rest of the time, we'd be in a circle of friends, Celestia thought, Although we'd have to be in disguise most of the time, would that be bad?

"Morning," Luna said as she walked into the kitchen and instantly fixated on the carafe of lemonade. Pouring herself a glass and drinking it.

"There's coffee and tea if you want to make some," Celestia said, hoping Luna would. Celestia's coffee was an affront to beverages everywhere.

"This is good, maybe later," Luna said and sat at the table. She picked up a dossier from the discards pile and looked through it. "Changed your mind?" Luna asked, "This one was your favorite."

"Now I understand why you hated it so, I'm inclined to let it go," Celestia said, "I've been choosing places that offer challenges, rather than being so much like home."

"Yes, after the last few days, I doubt I could accept going and doing essentially nothing," Luna said, then raised an eyebrow to Celestia, "And your mischievous streak would drive you crazy in 'too simple' a world. You'd cause trouble just to spice it up."

"I'd never," Celestia said, then withered under Luna's stare, "I wouldn't, but I would be sorely tempted too."

Luna nodded. "You can still love our lost friends, and acknowledge you've outgrown them and their world," Luna said as leaned forward at the table towards Celestia, "They did what they did, bringing us to that point, now events and some other teachers have brought us to where we are. There's no shame in loving both of them for the part they played."

Celestia shook out her mane. "In my mind I know that, in my heart I know we didn't move on of our own free will, and what happened to them was patently unfair."

"Celestia," Luna said, then continued more softly, "Sister, I never said it wasn't. But I am saying that we are all that's left of their legacy. If we wish to honor them, we can't sit in a corner and mourn them, we must go out into the world and be the ponies they'd want us to be."

Celestia took Luna's hooves with hers. "I will. I promise. Just don't ask me to like how we got here."

Luna smiled and nodded.

The knock on the door brought the two around. "Enter," Celestia called, then shook her head and realized only one person could understand their language. She trotted over and opened the door. The Trickster was there, carrying several bags of groceries. The two women who were with him could not have been more different. Celestia squealed in terror as she clumsily backed away.

The larger, taller and broad-shouldered woman gave a half-smile. "She's more observant than most," she said, almost amused at the mind-numbing terror she had inflicted on both alicorns.

Celestia had felt the evil of the Fallen, and the raw power of 'Crazy Uncle Ethyl', but both were combined and magnified in this one being. As if all the universe's darkness had been absorbed in one existence. She entered casually, and only when she entered the kitchen and shut off the oatmeal did Celestia even focus on the other woman. Where the first could be at best called 'striking', her size, powerful build and stern gaze seemed to do their best to make her femininity an illusion, the second somehow managed to be both lithe and voluptuous, and so full of joy, Celestia was not surprised when she did an elegant cart wheel to wind up beside Celestia.

"Neither one will hurt you or your sister," the Trickster said as he set the bags on the kitchen counter, "Considering all this came from her garden, you should be grateful."

The massive woman of oppression and evil shrugged. "I enjoy agriculture. Something honest about doing a job yourself. It's also something even my power and intellect can't force to work."

"Now that you've have your fun scaring the life out of my guests," the Trickster said, "You came to me, remember? What's so important that you broke cover?"

The woman frowned but set a thick, flat rectangle of glass on the kitchen table. Neither Luna nor Celestia wanted to get near it. The woman seemed to find this amusing, but she headed to the kitchen to put the groceries away and stir the oatmeal. The prosaic nature of her actions simply multiplied the horror of the woman's entire existence.

A hand waved in front of Celestia's face, then the Gymnast stepped up to break Celestia's line of sight with the other woman. She stroked Celestia's muzzle and seemed to take joy in the simple action. "She's just as dangerous as you think, at the cosmic level, but she's well-behaved, even gentle at the personal level."

Celestia nodded, and noted that the Trickster was scratching Luna behind the ears to drive away the terror she also suffered from.

The pair drew the two alicorns to the table and adjusted the glass. The text on the screen was their native language. Celestia and Luna were shocked enough that neither noted the Malignant Woman placing a bowl of oatmeal beside each of them. She again was amused by their horrified reactions.

"I seasoned them, just a few sweetening spices," the Malignant Woman said.

"She didn't poison them," the Trickster said and frowned, "Would you all just calm down."

"If you'd read that, you'd be the one we'd be calming down," the Malignant Woman said as she gestured at the glass.

The Trickster looked at the glass without moving it, and something in the upside-down writing made him gasp. "Uridimmullu is lose?" he said. He stared at the Malignant Woman. "And it's after the repository."

"All those potentials the fool has been sitting on. Imagine stringing them all together?" the Malignant Woman said, "It could finally make the lie it's always told, the truth."

"For those of us without encyclopedic knowledge of ancient cosmic battles," the Gymnast said, "This Uri is bad, and megalomaniac?"

"It is on par with the Outer Gods, and claims it is the Almighty's equal but opposite," the Trickster said, again showing a touch of the rage Celestia had seen in him rarely, "Basically, all the stuff about the false, corrupt creation and so on are things it's spread. But if it could get its own, then things might be more problematic."

"It is a conceptual war as much as a clash of arms," the Malignant Woman said, "But most importantly, the Outers' long-lost repository is the subject of both his 'Great Work', and Uridimmullu's bid for true omnipotence. The goals are mutually exclusive."

"How does that have anything to do with our home?" Luna asked.

"Most universes have adequate defenses, me for one," the Malignant Woman said, "Your's contained an immense, untapped potential, fuel for him, and nothing to provide any meaningful defense. Even you two could not have fought him off as you were there."

"So the powers that be, excised your universe before he could bite, and rolled it up. Forcing him to expend energy he desperately needs," the Trickster said, "Typical of this creature, it will stick with the plan, even if part of it has utterly failed. Specifically, attack the repository without its tanks full." He clenched his hands together and stared at the glass and the messages scrolling past.

"You still don't have time to call up the necessary forces," the Malignant Woman told him, "And I know they balked at paying the price they agreed to. Something of a set back."

"I have sufficient forces to accomplish the goal. Just a heavier time constraint." The Trickster looked up with such intensity that the Malignant Woman took a step back. "I do know someone with all the reserves I need. Someone who hates Uridimmullu almost as much as Nyarlathotep does. The idiot's plan is crude, but I know someone who might adapt it to fit their ends."

"You practically invite my treachery," the Malignant Woman said.

Suddenly Celestia felt the roles reversing, the Trickster was the greater power. "No, because you will tell me what you really want out of this. Not a new universe to hang your hat in. You want something else."

"As you well know, damn you," the Malignant Woman said softly, suddenly looking thoughtful and vulnerable. The Gymnast took an opportunity to comfort her, and shot the Trickster a glare.

They actually do love each other, Celestia realized of the pair, Like mother and daughter, but it is there. Celestia could hardly credit the observation, but couldn't deny it either.

"Hell's Bell!" the Trickster exclaimed, and pointed at the groceries, "You just cook a meal. I've tasted your cooking, it's wonderful. Don't get so caught up in grand gestures. I bought my first powers from Yig with corn cakes."

That I can believe! Celestia thought and grinned, I want to hear that story.

"For a being who is as much concept as matter, the enjoyment of a job well done, the meticulous craft, and the desire for the result to delight the gastronome are as real flavors as sweet or savory are to us!" the Trickster said as he stood, and the Malignant Woman sank into a chair. He lowered his voice as he continued, "Now listen to me. I will get you a chance, whether you succeed or fail is up to you. But Uridimmullu's head will be a good calling card. But we will be following my plan, because my plans work."

" 'My plans work'?" the Malignant Woman asked, getting some of her fire back.

"In the end, they succeed. Your's don't," the Trickster said, "All you get is sadder and wiser. No closer to your ultimate end. And none of this clap-trap about you tripping yourself up because you aren't worthy. It's because you insist on rubbing everyone's noses in the fact you're the smartest one in the room. Even, especially when it's true, people don't like the reminder."

The Trickster pointed at Celestia and Luna. "When you walked in, they were ready to wet themselves in fear. When I started beating up on you, they suddenly became sympathetic. You are more cunning than me, but you want everyone to know it. But you want everything to be just so. I can tolerate a sloppy plan because my team gets mission orders. Therefore everyone wants the whole thing to complete, not just their part and the rest is someone else's problem. My team is looking out for me. Your vassals care only to do their part excellently, whether it adds to the whole or not. So it will be my plan we will be using."

The Malignant Woman looked resentful, but nodded. The Trickster quit looming and sat down. "Now, eat your oatmeal, it's getting cold," he said, and grinned, "I have a triple ambush to lay out."

"Triple?" the Gymnast asked.

"The idiot who holds the repository, the bondsmen he can call up, and the heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Idiot," the Trickster said.

Celestia squirmed as the Trickster's malevolence outshone the Malignant Woman's. I do not think I want him angry at me, she thought, Ever.
------------------------------

The discussion that followed was a collection of names of places and people so alien that Celestia and Luna were lost trying to separate one from the other. Even some of the places may have been people and vice versa. Their heads still swimming after the trio left Celestia and Luna went walking in the evening twilight.

"We are very much over our heads in this," Luna said, "But I don't think we are amid enemies. Even the 'Malignant Woman' is not our enemy."

"She's a big part of my confusion. How does one feel worse than those 'Fallen', yet still be . . . it makes no sense," Celestia said and shook her head.

"Another example of a world beyond our experience. Are she and the Trickster allies?" Luna said, "Friend antagonists or allied enemies?"

"I think she's the mother in law," Celestia said and smirked, "Our gymnastic friend was making the same eyes at him that you were."

Luna snorted at that. "Can't we be just friends?"

"That may be what you and she have to settle for," Celestia said, "It's clearly not what either of you had in mind." She hid her grin at Luna's frustration.

It feels good to just be ponies, sisters again, Celestia thought, Instead of being part of a cosmic game.

They found a hollow in a hill and laid down side-by-side, and watched the stars come out.

"That one looks like a snake, and that one looks like a lyre. Oh, and that looks like a bear chasing a cat," Luna said as she pointed out constellations in the night sky.

"They may have names for them already," Celestia said.

"How do you know they can see them?" Luna asked, "Our eyes are much improved over what they were, and we could already see better than most ponies."

Celestia drew back to consider that. "Your right, they may have a weaker pallet of stars to make their constellations with. They do seem fainter than they did at home, they flicker a lot more too."

"Yes, I wonder why that is?" Luna said and looked towards the sound of approaching footsteps.

Celestia recognized the tread, and soon the Trickster stepped into view. "I've talked it over with my allies. And while I can't get all of them on short notice, I managed to get the bulk of the heavy-hitters. We'll be hitting the repository in two days."

"We're coming with," Luna said.

Celestia stared at her sister, having wanted to stay clear of the clash of Titans that the Trickster was assembling.

"Okay, I can't brief you on everything, so you'll stay with me, or a designated alternate," the Trickster said, "This is going to be a straight up smash job, but I think you'll fit in well with the assault force and their methods." He spotted Celestia's curled lip at that and laughed, "Believe me, even you'll approve of their methods. And if their plan doesn't work, there are plenty of less savory options that also have a high chance of success."

"Can we start training in the morning?" Celestia asked, "We were just admiring the night sky."

The Trickster looked up. "Yes, you have to be away from the big cities and have very good eyes to see anything. Not like where I grew up. Weird, looking at the night sky and seeing no stars, but knowing they're out there."

Celestia silently agreed.