The World Within the Web

by Lord Max

Chapter XXX: Chaos Theory

Chapter XXX: Chaos Theory

* * * * * *

Amelioration Pattern: Authority term, a strategy used to reverse a poor prior decision and create a new, more effective solution.

* * * * * *

The answers were looking Coin in the face, but only now was he beginning to understand. For six days he had spent his time with dusty tomes and moth-bitten ledgers splayed open on his bed, a cloud of numbers drifting up in particles of ink to greet him. Not even a cloud, really—more a fog, a haze that could only obscure what he or any other man sought after. But now that he had chanced on a lead, Coin could practically see the light breaking through.

Needless to say, it was enormous fun.

Coin had thrown himself into the assignment given to him by the Wardens with every bit of zeal he could manage in his injured state, but it was not as though his dwelling-place had much else to occupy him with. The barracks had been quiet, save for when people woke in the morning or returned at night, or when Kriseroff began bellowing about something or other. With the tender (but forceful) care of the Kind Friends under Skylark, the other wounded Bronies were recovering admirably, and most were now back on their feet—though some found it easier to stand alone than others. For now, Coin remained, but he was never that lonely. After all, there were calculations to make.

Not only that, but he had had his own fair share of help.

Just as he had started launching himself into another line, Coin heard his fellows approaching. With more material in their hands, came Dalwin Faust, sandy-haired and saturnine as ever, and Hans, gold spectacles on his nose and an inquisitive look in his eyes. Tagging alongside them was Daria Faust, on her daily visit and stepping over cheerfully.

“Hey, Sir Coin!” Daria said in greeting. “How’re you feeling today?”

Coin peered up from the texts to give a smile of his own. Daria had been down with the wounded often enough that Coin had come to relish her visits, though he suspected that she also came down to make sure that Red Autumn behaved himself and did not try to break out of his bandages and return to the field. Again.

“Just great,” Coin said. “I think I’ve hit something.”

“Now that is the news we were hoping for!” Hans remarked. “I did tell you we would find it, Dalwin.”

Dalwin smiled wanly. “We’ll see. What have you found, then?”

Turning over the papers laid out on his knees, Coin prepared what he knew. It had been a hard search for even this much—the Martes’ finances were as impenetrable as a fortress wall, and every bit as formidable. Thankfully, Hans and Dalwin had been assigned to the case as well, and could help make short work of it. Coin had worked with Hans briefly in the past, but he had never known the bespectacled Brony had such a skill for numbers or such an eye for detail until they began their investigation. Dalwin, on the other hand, had less skill with calculations but possessed a temperament that made him talented at drawing together separate leads and making conclusions. Hans was quick and Dalwin patient, and with Coin’s knightly training it made for quite the team.

Tracing over the page with his finger, Coin found the tell-tale column and pointed it out to the others. Hans took the paper and held it close to his face, his eyes darting around from part to part, numeral to numeral, his lips moving slightly as he read each word. By the end, he frowned. “Six save us,” he sighed, “more vanishing money?”

Coin nodded. The past few days had taught them that the Martes finances were near impenetrable and nigh incoherent at times. Several times they had said that they’d never seen records so badly maintained or managed—whole expense lines were simply forgotten from one page to the next, entire purchases recorded only on forgotten scraps of paper, and large sums of money left unaccounted for. Many times, said money was recorded as being used to purchase bulk supplies of cloth or ink or food, but for prices far higher than any sane market value and with no way of knowing where the surplus had gone. In some instances, the cash had just vanished completely, with no explanation at all.

Dalwin glanced over the figures as well, but shared little excitement. “We must have seen half a dozen disappearances like this,” he remarked, “but that does not point us any closer to tracking down the arms we’re searching for. What makes this different?”

“Because,” Coin explained, “this money just reappeared.”

Opening the portfolio, Coin found the pages he needed. “Hans, you remember the mystery payment you found yesterday? The one that pointed to the Blurrite dealers? It listed a massive amount of money given, but not what the Martes received in return. You wondered if we could find another receipt that would tell the details?” Coin picked up a page and waved it. “I found just that.”

Hans grinned. “And?”

“And,” Coin continued, “they left it unsaid a second time. No mention of what was purchased.” He saw Hans’ expression deflate somewhat. “But that’s not all I found. Look here.” He pointed to the tell-tale figures. “The inventory we got from the city watch archive? It lists that they received a large influx of unlisted items on that day. Crates upon crates, but no mention of what was inside. Except suddenly,” he went on excitedly, “guards suddenly start being listed as carrying new weapons and materials, ones that seem to come from nowhere. And that date, the day that the payment is made and these items appear?” Coin looked between the three of them. “One week after Sir Harald’s murder. And there is one more thing.”

“That being?” Daria asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I asked for a datagram to be sent to the harbor authorities from Askobarr, where the Blurrite traders came from. They said there were a dozen companies that might have made that transaction, but one in particular caught my eye. The one owned by Pilara Martes’ father. Which happens to deal in arms and just received a shipment. One from Central.”

Dalwin crossed his arms plaintively. “Our repeaters. The ones the assassins carried.”

“The customs officers in Askobarr gave me a number of repeating crossbows included in the purchase made by the Martes in the city. The amount they bought is far more than the amount the city watch is listed as having. The same can be said for swords, spears, daggers, and armor pieces, all bought by the Martes and now all unlisted. These weapons must have gone somewhere—a repeater is not something you just lose. So where did they go?”

Daria sucked in a sharp breath. “Right to the assassins. Men from the city watch disguised as a mob and sent after us, I mean.”

Coin could see that Dalwin was putting pieces together in his head. “Spectral sales point to something being hidden. Vanishing weapons means suspicion. But if we were to find someone willing to testify to those same items reappearing in the hands of city watch members, not disappearing into thin air…”

“Then we have evidence,” Hans said triumphantly.

Dalwin smiled, but did not allow his enthusiasm to rise. “A skeptical judge might call it circumstantial.”

“Yes, it would certainly be a shame if we had one of those,” Hans replied sardonically. “Considering where we are now? I’ll take whatever we can get. Good work piecing it together, sir.”

“It was the work of all three of us,” Coin said, a bit abashed.

Daria was scratching her chin as she pondered on the findings. “From what I’ve heard from all you these past few days, it sure seems like whoever was trying to cover up these finances did a poor job of it. Making it not look out of the ordinary, I mean. How could they think to get away with it? It would be impossible for someone not to notice.”

Dalwin shrugged at his fellow Faust. “Everyone knows that it’s impossible for men to fly, but that will not stop some from flapping their arms and leaping from tall towers. A bold man is hard to distinguish from an arrogant one, and I doubt the authors of this ever expected someone to read too closely. A foolhardy assumption. The kind that’s bred by people used to things going their way.”

“We should bring this to Lady Violet posthaste,” Hans said.

Coin nodded, and prepared to hand over his finding. Then he had a thought which made him pause. “Do you see Skylark around?” he asked the others.

They all glanced about, and returned their eyes to Coin. “Not by the look of things,” Hans answered.

“Good,” said Coin Counter, “because I think I’m going to stretch my legs.”

He had tried getting up out of bed several times over the past few days, but had always found himself forced back down with no shortage of scolding from Skylark every time he made the attempt. Skylark cited that, despite healing well thus far, too much movement could undo the healing of his wound. But frankly, a week on his back was making Coin feel far worse than the gash in his shoulder did. He barely even felt the wound most times, unless he jerked his arm around too sharply—the healing poultices that the Kind Friends provided had proven even better than he had hoped. It was time to get to work.

As Coin swung his legs to the side to climb out of his seat, Daria looked about nervously. “You’d better hope Skylark doesn’t catch on. I mean, she’s usually nice, but she has a thing for ‘doctor’s orders,’ and you really don’t want to see her mad.”

Dalwin pointedly averted his eyes. “If I am asked: I saw nothing, I heard nothing, and I know nothing.”

Coin pushed himself off the bed, finding his balance quickly. He rotated his arm lightly—his shoulder hurt, but not nearly so much as before, and he found it well within his powers to get up and about. “C’mon, let’s go find the lady.”

Daria giggled. “Maybe think about changing first, friend.”

Looking down, Coin realized that he had forgotten about the robe he was wearing. “Right,” he said embarrassed. “Er, give me a moment, then.”

A moment later, Coin was in his orange uniform again, and they were on their way through the Palace. Hans and Dalwin walked alongside him—Daria had decided to stay behind and keep Red Autumn and the rest company. A good move, all things considered—being bedridden and out of the action had not improved the Honest Eyes’ temperaments, and they needed the socializing. For his own part, Coin felt good to be on his feet again—lounging around in bed might have been relaxing at first, but the novelty had worn off quickly, and work was more important than rest either way.

It took some time, but eventually, they found themselves at Lady Violet’s quarters, the door open just a bit. Coin could hear Lady Violet’s voice inside. “... so you see, since most people don’t act purely out of duty per se, being sure to give a ‘thank you’ when they offer aid is an excellent way to show that their efforts are appreciated.”

Hans sidled up to knock on the frame. “Pardon me, my lady?” he asked.

“Oh, come in!” The door moved open a bit, showing Lady Violet seated across from the Warden of Honesty in the small room. “Well, if it isn’t Hans and one of my dear Fausts!” the Lady said when she saw them. “And Sir Coin as well, I see. I certainly hope you have the Kind Friends’ permission to be up and about, my friend,” she said with a mischievous look.

Coin swallowed. “Ah…”

Violet winked. “Say no more, sir. I need plausible deniability, if I am asked. Pray don’t hurt yourself, though. Now,” she continued, “I have to imagine that there is an official reason for you all to pop by? I don’t flatter myself enough to think that you’ve come merely for the pleasure of my considerable company.”

Hans bowed. “New leads, my lady. And discoveries as well.”

“Ah, intriguing intrigue for the enterprising investigators, is it? Very well then, come inside and we’ll discuss it.” The lady gestured between herself and the Warden of Honesty. “You caught the two of us at a good time, really. I was just going over a few points of courtesy with my honest friend, but I think we’ve hit a good enough stopping point for the day, hm? You are making wonderful progress, Honesty.”

Coin didn’t even try to hide his amazement. She’s teaching the Warden courtesy? How could anyone manage that? Glancing over at the Warden of Honesty, Coin got the impression that the experience had been singularly difficult for the giant—the Warden looked the most miserable and uncomfortable that Coin had ever seen him, which was saying quite a lot.

“This one needs to meditate,” the Warden grunted, seeming perfectly traumatized at his new education.

“Oh, go ahead, Honesty,” Lady Violet said with a delicate wave as he departed. “I’ll keep you appraised if anything interesting comes up.” With that, the rest were ushered inside. “Well then,” Lady Violet continued, “to what exactly do I owe the pleasure?”

Coin did his best to explain what they had found while keeping the financial jargon to a respectful minimum, all while Hans occasionally added some excited interjections. Dalwin offered some succinct and sober summaries when appropriate, and the lady measured their words carefully.

By the end of it, a smirk curled across her lips. “Gentlemen,” she said, “I seem to have picked the right team after all. Bravo.” The three men looked abashed, while she continued. “It takes a certain cunning to maneuver through courtly dramas, I admit, but mathematics is often a far more deadly foe. This math in particular seems to all but confirm our precise suspicions—do you suspect they will convince our judges of the same?”

“On its own? Hard to say,” Dalwin shrugged.

Hans went on with more enthusiasm. “But if we were to have some manner of information from inside the guards themselves…”

A sly look crossed the lady’s face. “I believe that Mister Hart’s current project might be of some aid in that. There is a certain point that one reaches in matters such as this, my friends. Colloquially, one might call it the ‘opportune moment.’ I shall hold on to this discovery of yours for just that time.” She took hold of the files and put them aside.

There came a knock at the door, and Lady Violet perked up immediately. “Jorama?”

It was indeed the dark-skinned guard, looking disheveled. Her golden scarf was tossed around haphazardly, and her braid looser than usual, but her expression was practically giddy. “Lady-Warden,” Jorama said, “it is with me. The Lord Moderator, he—“

Wide-eyed, Lady Violet immediately took a piece of paper that Jorama held in her hand. A smile crossed her face as she turned to Coin and the others. “It is fortunate that you should come now of all times, friends. I have something exciting for you—something we have been waiting for far too long.”

She grinned and waved the printed letter at them. “How would you like to see Dabrius Joh?”

Dalwin breathed sharply. “Arcadio finally budged?”

“More that he was shoved aside. The Lord Moderator is well past the edge of his patience, as are we. Until now he was willing to swallow excuses and play along, but that time has passed. He happened to have given me this signature, one that will open any door. And if it will not open, I quite literally intend to break it down—we delay no longer.”

Hans was beaming. “Do the Martes know?”

“Not yet, which is why we must move now. I have a certain notion… call it a scheme if you wish. Your fortuitous recovery, Sir Coin, has just made such a scheme that much easier.”

“Me?” Coin asked, surprised. “What do I—“

“You, my friend, are to cast a revealing light upon this dark farce that Arcadio has been serving up to us, and on the blackguards in Halforth’s employ that have aided him. You have the ear of the Peacekeepers, do you not? Miss Ravenry, Miss Cawtler, and that other man, Cartwright? Retrieve them and bring them with us.” Lady Violet leaned back, a serious look upon her face. “I intend for them to see exactly what has been done to our friends in the cells.”

Coin’s eyes widened. “The guards will try to stop us, if they catch wind of it.”

“Let them try.”

“What if they don’t listen?” Coin asked. “Cellia and Percy and Abigail? Lord Halforth dismissed our claims, and Sir Depravity lied to them about it. They’ve no reason to believe us, so what if they don’t?”

“Then make them,” Violet insisted. “Convince them, cajole them, flatter them or threaten them or do whatever it takes. So far as our success is concerned, qualms have no place with us anymore. Listen to me—this is our chance. If we wait, Arcadio will have Dabrius and Greenglade moved himself to some comfortable loft just so that we seem all the more false when Halforth sends his subordinates to call on them. But if we can prove our claims, then we sever any credibility the Martes had in an instant, and we cast down Blair and Barr as well. Those charlatans cannot stand against living proof before them, it we must give it to them this instant, here and now. You must bring them to me, and I will bring them to our friends.” Lady Violet’s expression was sympathetic, but possessed with clear command. “Sir Coin, the time for doubt is long gone. Our hour is now. Make it happen.”

Coin went as quickly as his injuries allowed, praying that he could find one of the Peacekeepers in their usual side of the Palace. There was not a single moment to waste—if he took too long, it would give Arcadio the one opportunity he needed to ruin the plan. Violet was confident that the Martes would not receive word for some time, but there was no way to be completely certain. It might have already arrived. Coin picked up his pace.

By the time he arrived, Coin was panting and aching. A week on his back had done little to improve his physical fitness, and the same went for having a bolt shot through his shoulder. He gasped for breath when he knocked upon one of the doors, a shock of pain going through his shoulder, praying that someone was there to answer.

Cellia Ravenry appeared so suddenly that Coin wondered if she had just been sitting around waiting for someone to come. “Your honor,” she began immediately without seeing who it was, “I have a new report from the Cha—” She stopped suddenly when she saw that it was not, in fact, her mentor asking after her. “Oh! Apologies, Sir Coin, I was… ah, well. I did not realize that you were in condition to be up-and-about, as it were.” She coughed into her gloved hand. “Now, what can I—”

“Come with me now,” Coin wheezed. He swallowed and tried to catch his breath. “Please.”

Cellia looked at him, abashed. “Uh, pardon?”

Coin managed to recover himself well enough to speak without embarrassing himself. “My superiors,” he said haltingly, “have received immediate permission to speak with the accused, Dabrius Joh. Could you act as a liaison when we meet him?”

She regarded him with confusion. “Sir Coin, I’ve received no orders from anyone allowing that. The law affords you the right to speak with your client in confidence, without Authority agents being present. I fear I would be overstepping my bounds.”

“Lady Violet has requested you, she wants an Authority agent with us,” Coin explained.

The confusion remained on her face, until a certain understanding flashed in her eyes. “Is… is this about that prisoner-treatment complaint again?” she asked suspiciously. “Now really, that is far above my jurisdiction. His honor has already decided the matter.”

“He doesn’t know what I do. But you can show him, Cellia. Arcadio has been lying through his teeth, and so has Sir Depravity.”

“Now that is absurd,” Cellia said firmly. She straightened herself in that curious way that made her resemble Lord Halforth in manner. “Sir Depravity and Sir Alwin are both sworn knights, and loyal servants. They have nothing to gain by lying.”

“Any more than I do?” Coin asked pointedly.

She pursed her wide lips. “Lord Halforth trusts their word.”

She worships him, Coin knew. The Lord Moderator is her idol, and to her he has no flaws at all. “Lord Halforth,” said Coin as emphatically as he could, “is wrong.”

Cellia crossed her arms and looked at him skeptically. “A Peacekeeper, a knight, or a lord alike all know that they must trust their superiors. Even the High Administration knows this, by putting their faith in the Logos. Sir Depravity and Sir Alwin are anointed knights, but you accuse them of perjury and his honor absolves them of that. Lord Halforth is my better in every sense of the word, and I do not contradict him.”

It’s clear that she wants to be a knight, Coin thought glumly. She knows how to answer like one. That gave him one last thought, however. “Cellia,” Coin said carefully. “Sir Depravity and Sir Alwin both swore vows of honesty and service when they were knighted. You’re right to recognize that. But so did I. One of us is lying, them or me, and now you need to sort out which. I know that you want to join the Order more than anything, and that obedience is important… but so is finding the truth. If you truly wish to be a knight, isn’t the truth the point of it all? What use is standing aside blindly?”

Cellia was still looking firm, but there were doubts in her eyes. “I accepted a responsibility for the both of us. There might be trouble.”

Coin offered a reassuring smile. “That’s one thing that knights are always ready for.”

She bit her lip and chewed on the idea. After a time of consideration, she spoke up. “Alright. But I intend to issue a full report on the matter regardless of what I find. If you’re mistaken, his honor will know.”

Coin nodded. “Deal. Now let’s go.”

They made for a rather motley crew. Lady Violet, delighted to see Cellia accompanying them, led the way, with Coin, Dalwin, and Jorama alongside. For extra protection and discretion, the lady had rounded up Crispin Peck, who bounced along with oblivious cheer to what might be a grim meeting.

Behind them was the Warden of Honesty, who had observed Cellia with enormous suspicion when he saw the Peacekeeper appear. A considerable frown crossing the Warden’s face. “Why is Moderator here?” the giant had asked dourly.

Lady Violet nudged him as politely as she could. “Do you recall, my honest friend, that I told you about being more courteous in the future, so as to avoid repeating certain situations? This would be a time to exercise that advice.”

The Warden of Honesty stirred with tremendous discomfort. “Hello,” he struggled to say to the Peacekeeper.

Cellia bowed in return. “My lord of Honesty,” she said. “Lord Halforth has spoken well of you.”

“Truly?” Lady Violet responded, not even trying to hide her surprise. “Do you hear that, my honest friend? You are blessed with the Lord Moderator’s good feelings!”

The Warden glowered at the thought. “Hrm,” he grunted. The idea of being praised by outsiders seemed to put him ill at ease.

“Well,” Cellia said, “I suppose we can depart whenever you are ready, my lady. I am certain that I will only be needed for as long as it takes to confirm what Lord Halforth has already been to—”

“Thank you,” grunted the Warden, looking off in a different direction.

Everyone looked up at him. “Pardon?” asked Cellia.

“Friends saved during riot. Some due to outsider intervention. Moderators. Lord Halforth said thanks should be given to staff.” The Warden of Honesty was grimacing, but did not speak so harshly. “Thank you.”

The comment took Cellia by as much surprise as the rest of them. “Oh. Well, you’re, ah... quite welcome, my lord,” she said, taken aback.

“Hrm” was the only response from the Warden before he began walking, but Coin could see Lady Violet beaming proudly at her honest friend nonetheless.

They all proceeded together down to the dungeon, Coin descending the narrow stairs a second time. This time, he prayed, they would finally find the opportunity needed to set their friends free.

Dalwin seemed to have been nursing the same thoughts. “My lady, what if Greenglade and Dabrius have already been moved?” he asked quietly, casting a glance to Cellia. “Arcadio might well have done just that some time ago.”

Lady Violet grimaced. “I believe I hear your answer just downstairs.”

Coin could hear them as well—shouts from a familiar voice, and barked commands. He prepared himself for who they would find below.

Arcadio stood before the locked door, accompanied by his guards and clearly in the process of entering the cells. The doorkeeper was sitting to the side, idly reading a paper with certain disinterest, when he saw the Bronies emerge into the room. For a brief moment, the man’s eyes registered surprise as he saw Cellia in her black-and-white uniform. “Oh shit,” he uttered carelessly.

Lady Violet scoffed. “Really, is that the proper language to introduce a lady?”

Arcadio spun around to find six Bronies with a Peacekeeper in tow, his handsome face alive with anger. “What are you doing here, whore? Get out, you don’t have my leave to enter.”

“I do not desire your leave to do anything, my lord,” Lady Violet said in a measured tone. “Nor do I require it. I happen to have all the permission I need from Lord Halforth, if you would need to read his instructions. But surely you already knew that, no?”

One of the men standing next to Arcadio, a confused-looking keykeeper that Coin vaguely remembered being called Cabrio, was startled when his commander rounded on him. “Listen to me now: you are not to open this door no matter what these shit-heels demand of you, understand?”

“Uh,” Cabrio struggled to say.

Cellia frowned. “The Lord Moderator has given his express command that Lady Violet and her associates be allowed to see their client. Refusing is a punishable offense.”

“Well, there you have it.” Lady Violet gave a charming smile to the keykeeper, still standing in front of the door. “Cabrio, is it not?” she said amiably. “The Lord Moderator has given an order which we are all, sad to say, obliged to follow. Could you please open the door?”

The keykeeper Cabrio was looking between Lady Violet and Arcadio, frozen. “I—” he stammered. “I— m’lady, I— m’lord, should—”

“Back away, horse-lover,” Arcadio growled. “This is my property and you don’t have a right in the Web to claim it.”

“You refuse to let me pass by, despite the Lord Moderator’s word?” Lady Violet said, sounding only half-interested as she examined her fingernails.

“Piss on your word, horse-lover whore.”

She gave a cheerful little smile. “I was so hoping you might say that. My honest friend?” she turned to the Warden of Honesty by her side. “Do you recall that other lesson of courtesy I told you about? Holding the door for a lady?”

“Yes,” the Warden of Honesty answered simply.

Without another word and with a few huge strides, the Warden lurched forward, pushed the guards out of the way, and kicked the solid steel door down to the ground with a single kick. It crashed to the floor with an enormous clang, a dent the size of a man’s head square in the middle and its broken hinges clattering to the floor.

The previously bored-looking guard behind the desk dropped his newspaper in horror. “My door!” he cried in anguish.

Lady Violet leaned towards a stunned Coin. “I did say that I intended to break it down, did I not?”

Arcadio might have moved to attack them and block their way through, but he was outnumbered, and the Warden stood very large indeed. The two men locked eyes, hands wavering above their weapons, until Arcadio relented. “You will pay for this, horse-lover,” he spat at Lady Violet as she passed by.

“Oh, for the door?” she answered with perfect innocence. “Yes, send me the bill whenever is convenient, my lord. I promise this: it shall only be the first thing I aim to repay.” There was a polite smile on her face, but Lady Violet’s eyes could not have been colder.

Coin knew that the smart thing for Arcadio to have done would have been to clear out the dungeons after the Bronies first saw them, housing Greenglade and Dabrius elsewhere and ensuring that no one would catch on to the horrid conditions. That was not what Arcadio did. The place was every bit as revolting as the first time Coin had been through it: dark, miserable, dirty, and filled to the brim with desperate, abused people. It was a familiar sight to him, but the same could not be said for Cellia. Her mouth hung just slightly open as she looked around, examining the place with mute horror.

Lady Violet noticed her expression right away. “You are familiar, of course, with the Palace of Aureliano, are you not Miss Ravenry?” She motioned around the deplorable scene. “Welcome to the Palace of Arcadio, where our friends have been kept.”

Cellia did not answer, still quietly observing the place with wide, disbelieving eyes.

They proceeded through silently, taking what Coin thought was a deliberately slow pace on Lady Violet’s part, until they reached Greenglade’s cell at the end. The condition of the Kind Friend had not improved much since Coin had last saw him. Greenglade was still filthy, still ragged, and still curled up in the corner of his cell. But the look he gave when he saw his fellow Bronies was the most hopeful that Coin had seen him. “My lady,” Greenglade said, his blue eyes wavering.

“Hello, my friend,” Lady Violet said softly, reaching out her hand through the cell bars. Greenglade took it gratefully. “Greenglade, I have the honor of introducing Miss Cellia Ravenry, an Authority Peacemaker staffed with Lord Dyren Halforth.”

“Well met,” Cellia said uneasily. She was trying to maintain her usual courtesies, Coin could tell, but there was an incredible uncomfortableness as she stood and observed that place. Her arms were crossed, her hands gripping her sides tightly, and her back bent out of its ordinary rigid straightness—as though some great weight was pressing down on her shoulders.

Greenglade looked at Cellia agape. “Authority? Are you here to— my lady, am I free?”

Lady Violet looked pained. “Not yet, my kind friend. Soon, though, I swear it. At the moment, though,” she said with a reassuring voice, “today we are to see Dabrius.”

The prisoner’s eyes welled up in tears. “I haven’t seen him, my lady. He’s down in the dark, I know it. Get him out of there, my lady. Tell him I’m still alive.”

The lady’s hands tightened around Greenglade’s. “I will,” she promised.

Just beyond Greenglade’s cell, there was a sealed door of cold black iron. Beyond that, Coin knew, was the lower level of the prison, in which Dabrius Joh was allegedly trapped. Down in the dark, Coin thought, ill at ease at the thought. For the entire time they had been in the Dreamweave, the Bronies had known nothing about what had become of Dabrius Joh, other than that he had been confined in Arcadio’s custody the entire time. None of them knew what they would face down there.

Lady Violet did not seem deterred. “Dalwin?” she said with her eyes locked on the door. “A light, if you would be so kind.”

Dalwin nodded, and held up the lantern he had brought along with them. Using a lighter, he filled it with a flame that cast back the shadows of the dark hall.

The Warden of Honesty wrenched open the door, and so they proceeded down into the pit. It was a cramped staircase leading down, down past cold, stone halls and steps coated with a slime that Coin did not care to think about. The small party went on their way through, until they reached the bottom. The light that Dalwin carried helped keep the way clear to their eyes, but Coin still almost tripped when he found himself on the last step.

The under-dungeon was deathly quiet. A pregnant hush was hanging over the row of pitch-black cells and sealed doors, and a stillness that came from people who no longer had the will to move or speak. A tiny drop of water dripped down from ceiling to floor, and yet the sound that it made was almost deafening in the dark. The air was so musty and foul-smelling that Coin could barely stand to breathe.

Dalwin moved forward, checking cell after cell. Coin kept himself from looking at the people inside them—if Dalwin’s expressions were any indication, their condition was not something he wanted to glimpse. Faint sounds could be heard when the light passed over. One person screamed. Dalwin kept moving, his pace getting more feverous as he went. Until he stopped.

In one of the cells, a man was leaning against the wall, looking down to the floor. Coin had never met Dabrius Joh—he did not know what he might have looked like once. But the person in that cell looked almost like a battered corpse. His clothes might have been fine and white once, but now were so filthy and covered in discolored stains that it looked like he was wearing a suit of dirty rags filled with holes. One of his sleeves had been ripped off completely, exposing an arm covered by thick, black hair and criss-crossed with red marks. But his face… his face had a wild black beard that had grown out of control, but it did nothing to hide the damage. His hollow cheeks, his black eyes, his crooked nose, all of them were bruised and beaten and swollen from injuries. It gave him a twisted appearance, as he stared down at the ground.

The man clenched a fist, and sighed when the light hit him. “It is that time again?” he asked calmly. “Get on with it then, you moon-banished bastard.”

“Now is that any way to address your lady?”

Dabrius Joh’s head sprung up immediately, and jerked around to find Lady Violet next to him. For a moment, he merely stared at her, as though he did not truly believe she was there. Then, he made a coughing sound that might have been a chuckle. “My lady,” he said with a weak smile, “I’m sorry to say that negotiations have broken down a bit.”

“The prison cell would suggest that,” Lady Violet smiled back sadly. She sighed. “Dabrius, I truly apologize for not coming sooner.”

He shrugged. “I was the one that found his way down here, my lady. No fault of yours.” Before he could say more, he began to cough violently, then grimaced. “Though, I do wonder how long I’ve been down here in the dark cells. Hard to keep track.”

“Too long. Several weeks at least.”

Dabrius rested his head against the wall. “Hm.”

“I and a whole cohort of our friends have been here negotiating your release for some time,” the lady explained. “But we were stonewalled from seeing you, by a certain Arcadio Martes.”

The imprisoned diplomat sitting in the cell tightened his jaw. “Yes,” Dabrius said haltingly, “yes, we’ve met.”

Before any more could be said, Cellia stepped forward. “My lady, I think it would be best if I gave you the time to speak with the defendant in confidence, without my being here. If there is nothing else I—” She hesitated to go on, glancing again at her surroundings and at Dabrius. “My lady,” she said carefully, “I… I would offer an unqualified apology.”

Lady Violet shook her head. “It was not your fault that our friends are down here, Miss Ravenry. You are not to blame.”

“That may be,” Cellia admitted, “but there is still no excuse for this. My lady, I’m prepared to go to the Lord Moderator immediately to change his mind, and I swear that he will be shown the full truth. I cannot imagine why in the Web Sir Depravity and Sir Alwin would have lied about this, but it cannot stand. It will not, I swear.”

Lady Violet bowed. “I thank you then, Miss Ravenry. It is good to know that there are still people on this island looking for justice. I hope we will speak again soon.”

Cellia nodded, and left with a new purpose in her step. Coin knew she would keep her word… though he could only hope that Lord Halforth would listen.

After she had gone, Dabrius sighed heavily. “That Mod is not the only one that needs to offer an apology, my lady. If you’ve been here investigating on my behalf, then I’m certain you have already heard about my own part in landing myself here. There were some things I had said to… well, everyone, really. That fool Harald, may the Mare grant him rest, and the Martes as well. My damned fault.”

“We did hear,” Dalwin said softly. “Greenglade told us.”

“Greenglade,” Dabrius repeated, looking to his friends with concern. “I haven’t seen him since… is he…”

“Still alive,” Lady Violet reassured him. “I will not lie to you and say he is well, but he is no worse off than you.”

That made Dabrius chuckle bitterly. “Six save me, that bad? Balefire.” The tiny flame flickering within the lantern illuminated the cell barely enough, but still a murky gloom gripped onto the man within. Deep shadowy pools hung under around his eyes and mouth that made his face seem cavernous. Even the light hitting Dabrius Joh gave him more a sad, sickly pallor than anything approaching life. Coin could not even imagine being trapped down in that nightmare for so long, with nothing but regretful thoughts and Arcadio for company. “My own damned fault,” Dabrius repeated angrily. “Weeks and months, my lady. Weeks and months Greenglade and I were trying for justice. Justice. It never mattered to any of them, and I just—” He clenched his jaw, and groaned.

“Dabrius…”

“Anger heaped on anger, that was all it was,” he continued, his voice low. “The words just came out. I knew they were wrong halfway through saying them.” Even in the dark, Coin could see that Dabrius was trembling. “My lady, Greenglade shouldn’t be down here. If I had just kept quiet then—”

“Enough of that,” Lady Violet insisted. Reaching through the bars, she took Dabrius’ hands in hers. “What matters now is getting the two of you out of this foul place. I need you to tell me everything, Dabrius. Everything.”

He gripped her hand more tightly, and nodded.

“What happened on the night of Sir Harald’s murder?”

Dabrius turned his head to face the lady, and stared at her plaintively. He shot a look to the others and then looked back to her, as though he were expecting an answer. Whatever it was that he was interested to know, Lady Violet nodded to him to continue. He let out a breath. “I was in Nightside, my lady. Meeting with the Changelings.”

Jorama mumbled something in a foreign tongue under her breath. The rest of them exchanged a look. Well, Coin thought, that’s one theory confirmed.

“There’s a hidden passage that happens to open in the alley behind the Moonlight Inn,” Dabrius explained, “and I followed it to meet with them. I had to get Greenglade drunk and leave him at the bar. I was with them the entire night, until I came back for him.”

All eyes were on Dabrius, prompting him to continue. He looked around to them, as though reluctant to explain himself. He did so regardless. “They contacted me not long after Greenglade and I arrived. They said they wanted to open the Dreamweave to the fandom, make peace with the Collective, that they could help me in swaying the court and Sir Harald. They were sick of the ban—thought it was killing the Dreamweave, keeping it locked away from the Web and starving it. Sick of the Martes, too. So they came to me. The first time I thought it was a trap. The second… that was after weeks and months of failures, and I was desperate enough to try. I was meeting with them every so often after that, down in their tunnels.”

“Meeting for what?” Dalwin asked.

“Information. Support. Angles on how to sway the decision, if we could. They had a lot to offer, and I needed every bit of it. These are important people in the city, and they can move things if need be. Were it not for them, Sir Harald might have decided in the Martes’ favor ages ago.”

“And did you or they have anything to do with the murder of Sir Harald or his squire?” Lady Violet asked intently.

“No. Nothing at all, I swear it.”

The Warden of Honesty stirred. “He is telling the truth,” he murmured.

“I never wanted to doubt it,” Lady Violet said, “but that is a relief to hear. I confess, my friend, that some facts that were turned up set us to certain doubts. There has been talk of…” She stopped, almost chewing on the words before she said them. “Dabrius, there has been much talk about these Changelings.”

“Don’t believe what they say, my lady,” Dabrius interjected immediately. “The Martes and the rest, whenever they talk about ‘insurrectionist cells’ or ‘criminal gangs.’ The Changelings aren’t like that. They’re good men, and friends to the fandom.”

“I’ve learned to disregard what the Martes say,” she replied. “But what troubles me is what I have heard from elsewhere.” Dabrius shifted in his cell whilst Lady Violet spoke. “We received a message from the Warden of Magic not long ago, one with several interesting notions within it.” Violet sighed. “Dabrius, there has been talk of Oathbreakers.”

Coin heard a gasp behind him from Crispin, and Jorama started to mutter something again. In his cell, Dabrius merely raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Now that I can deny.”

For his own part, Coin was lost. That name, ‘Oathbreaker,’ seemed vaguely familiar to him, though. Where had he seen it before?

Curiosity got the better of him. “Er, pardon me, my lady,” Coin interrupted, “but who are we talking about?”

Dabrius looked at him askance. “Are you new around here?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I’m Coin Counter.”

“Welcome to the fandom, then,” Dabrius said, as nonchalantly as a person locked in prison could be.

It was Dalwin who cut in with a proper answer. “Oathbreakers are fandom-traitors. Radicals repudiated by the Citadel. We say they left the fandom, though they would say the fandom left them.”

The mere mention of the word ‘Oathbreaker’ seemed to set the Warden on edge, his ugly face twisting up. “Friend-killers. Dissolute. Devil-led. They seek paradise through the way of Smiling Skull. Shall not find it. Worse than dead.”

In a flash, Coin remembered where he had heard of these Oathbreakers before. Once on a mural he had seen when he first walked under the shadow of the great Citadel—it had been a landscape of green fields and a white-gold city on the mountainside. ‘Where is Equestria?’ he remembered was written below, but beside it were other words—‘Who is the Oathbreaker?’ Then he recalled having seen it once after that.

“We found graffiti in Nightside,” Coin said in realization. “When we first went there, on a wall there were Brony posters, but someone had painted over them. The words—”

“Who is the Oathbreaker?” Lady Violet finished for him. “Dabrius, the report he had from Lord Mars suggested that there might be traitors among the Changelings.”

“No,” Dabrius shook his head. “No, I don’t believe it.”

Lady Violet considered what Dabrius said silently. It was hard for Coin to tell if she was truly as convinced as Dabrius was, but at the end she said, “Then I shall believe you, my friend. But if we are to get you out of here, I shall need to meet with these Changelings face-to-face. No more secrets. Once I do, we will finally have people that can corroborate your story, and then the accusations against you shall be moot. We are a hair’s width away from your freedom, Dabrius, I promise you that.”

They were hopeful words, but for some reason Dabrius seemed to stiffen. “You need me to tell you who they are. Where to find them.”

“Yes,” she said emphatically. “Dabrius, unless they can testify to your innocence, we have no one that can prove that you were not spending your night sticking a knife into two Moderators. The sooner we know, the sooner we can set you free.”

Dabrius appeared to turn that thought around in his mind several times. He rested his head back on the cold stone wall, and stared forward. “I’m sorry, my lady, but no.”

Lady Violet looked at him as though he had spoken gibberish. “Pardon?”

“I cannot tell you how to find the Society, my lady.”

The Warden of Honesty bristled at the insubordination. “Why?”

Dabrius swallowed. “Because,” he said, “if I tell you, then they will be exposed. My being freed would not change the ban on Bronykind here in the Dreamweave, and once they are forced to confess to being part of a pro-Collective party here, none of them will be safe. To start, Aureliano will see them thrown out of their homes. But that’s only a start. Do you suppose that when Arcadio finds them, he’ll be at all merciful? That lunatic will see their throats slit if he feels kind. If I tell you, their lives are forfeit.”

“Your own life will be forfeit without their word,” Dalwin answered quietly. “You have no alibi without them.”

Dabrius grimaced. “That might be. But Greenglade will go free, and so will all of you—they have only evidence enough for me. It’s my fault that any of you are even here. Mine alone. I cannot hurt anyone else just to correct my own mistakes.” His voice was as low and mournful as if he were attending his own funeral. In the dim, yellow light, he already looked like a corpse. “I would fight for my friends. I would happily step out of this cell to keep fighting for them, if I could. I would fight for them, my lady. But I won’t make them die for me.”

A long, heavy silence held between all of them. They knew exactly what Dabrius spoke of, and that he knew as well. He’s volunteering to die, Coin knew. He thinks that’s the only way to make this right. Six save us all.

Lady Violet had listened silently, her face not betraying her thoughts as Dabrius spoke. At the end, she stood, and looked down at him. “I will release you from here,” she promised. “Dabrius… you don’t deserve this.”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he replied, “but I think I do.”

There was nothing else to be said. After a moment, they all turned away, Lady Violet taking care to go in front of everyone else. She took pains to keep her face turned away, but Coin caught a bare glimpse of it before following behind. It was hard to see in the lantern-light, but when she brushed a delicate hand against her cheek, Coin could tell she was wiping away tears.

They did not get far out of the dungeon before they were all stopped. In their path were Cellia, Percy, and Abigail, all in their Peacekeeper uniforms and moving quickly past them. Coin could hear some words exchanged between them and the Wardens, and some loud discussion after they glimpsed within the cells, but Coin barely registered their words.

Finding a bare patch of wall, he leaned and sank into it, despair curling up. We can’t win, he thought. They needed someone, anyone, that could speak to Dabrius not having murdered Sir Harald. Otherwise, their friend was out at the right time, in the right place, with the right motive, and with no other suspects at all. They had worked for weeks, turned up everything they could, tried every hand available, and yet it was for nothing without that. All their resources and plans were for naught if they could not find the Changelings. The stone was cold against his back, a frigid touch that made the wound in his shoulder throb. This is what we’ve come to. We’re lost.

Coin wanted to bury his head in his hands, but he noticed that there were people in front of him. He looked up to see Crispin and Dalwin standing over. Crispin had an odd, sad smile on his face filled with mute reassurances. Dalwin looked as subdued as ever, but his voice was not hopeless. “Come on, friend,” said Dalwin Faust, “we’re not done yet.” He motioned over across the room.

The Peacekeepers were coming over, with the rest of the Bronies in tow. Percy stepped forward to Coin, looking grim. “His honor’s gonna wanna talk ‘bout this,” he warned, before ushering them upstairs.

They found themselves in the Lord Moderator’s quarters before long. The Warden of Generosity sat at a bare table, with Coin alongside her—he could only assume that he was there due to being the Moderator liaison. In front of them, silent as the grave, was Lord Halforth himself. He stood facing away from them, looking out of the window at the city, his back straight and his hands folded behind him. He had not said a word since the Bronies had arrived.

Coin and the lady had been pushed into the meeting gently enough, but he was unnerved all the same. There was a tension in the air heavier than any mountain. Lady Violet was still and quiet, breathing calmly, having fully rebuilt her composure after the conversation with Dabrius. Percy Cartwright had started nervously tapping his foot at one moment—a reproachful look from his fellow Peacekeepers made him stop, but he had started rapping his fingers against his crossed arms instead, unable to keep his concern out of his expression. Abigail stared off into space, her own face unreadable. For all her usual propriety, Cellia was fidgeting in the corner, occasionally casting glances at her mentor, as though for guidance, and then looking away just as quickly. All the while, the Lord Moderator stood silent.

The unbearable wait was broken by a voice down the hall. “—no idea what it is. Perhaps they finally found the evidence, and we can put this farce behind us,” said Sir Depravity Blair, as he approached.

Coin turned and saw Sir Depravity and Sir Alwin walking through the door, the former as dour and the latter as anxious as ever. Roger was following behind his master, bouncing along blissfully. “Your honor,” Sir Depravity said with a salute. “You said you wished to speak with us? What—”

He froze when he saw Lady Violet looking at him. Sir Depravity’s eyes scanned around the room, taking in the expressions of all those there. Sir Alwin merely looked confused, but Depravity picked up right away. “What is this?” he asked.

Lord Halforth did not turn around. He did not raise his voice either, and somehow that was far, far worse. “Twelve years,” the Lord Moderator said in a tone that could freeze fire. “For twelve years we have served together. How much of that time have you filled with lies?”

Sir Alwin audibly swallowed. Depravity tensed up, and shot an accusing glance at Lady Violet. “What have you told him, hor—”

Lord Halforth did not let him finish. “She told me nothing. My other subordinates, apparently possessing more loyalty than you, have told me only one thing—the truth. A sobering thought, I imagine. When I took you into my service, I did so because I valued your candor. You never before hesitated to speak your mind.” His hands, still folded behind his back, tightened. “Do you understand me, sir? I had to be told by your direct inferiors the truth that I asked you to give. You are no longer capable of performing that simple task that I valued you for. Now I am forced to look back and wonder how much of what you ever said was true.”

Sir Depravity looked as aghast as he was offended. “Your honor, I have been your loyal servant, I would never have—”

“Oh, but you have. If you try to convince me otherwise at this point, you are either an idiot or you believe me to be one. If you stammer out another lie in my presence, I will find some legal means to have your tongue removed, I swear it. The same can be said for you, Sir Alwin.”

As if on cue, Alwin’s face turned a shade of ashamed red, but he could not bring himself to speak. Lord Halforth went on for him. “I understand that your family has deep roots in the Authority. A father, an uncle, and a brother all serving, no? And this, your first assignment. I had hoped for great things from you, sir, and yet you lied to me as well. Your kin will be disgraced on account of what you have done.”

Sir Alwin looked down at the floor, choking on words as he tried to respond. He could not bear to meet the eyes of anyone else in the room.

There was a draining silence for a long moment. Sir Depravity was trembling slightly. Even Roger seemed to sense the atmosphere, lying down on the ground, tail still. At last, Lord Halforth spoke up again. “I took the liberty of reviewing the prison, and found it at odds with the report you both rendered to me,” he said with an unnatural calm. “As it stands, you are now facing charges of perjury. Do you still wish to deny this?”

“No,” Sir Alwin forced himself to say immediately.

“Your honor, I…” Sir Depravity said haltingly. “I… I admit to the charge. But please, look at me, you… you must know that I had never lied to you before, I—”

“You lied to me now,” Lord Halforth replied. There was a rage in the Lord Moderator’s voice that was only barely controlled. “There are two men who have been tortured because you felt it fun to play me for a fool.”

“They’re guilty, they deserve to be down there!” Sir Depravity shouted back. “These horse-lovers are wretched and you know it. My cousin Giles was disgraced fighting them in the Chan, and now they think they can ride over all the Web as well. Damn them all, they deserve those cells! Are you taking their side now?” he pointed at the Bronies. “Cellia, what have you told him? Percy, Abi, you don’t really believe these ingrates, do you?”

The Peacekeepers all turned their eyes away mournfully, and did not answer. That seemed to only enrage the knight more. “Damn you all, then. Am I really the only one that can see the truth? I…” Sir Depravity looked back to the Lord Moderator desperately. “You can’t take their side in this. After everything that we’ve been through? Twelve years we have been partners, we fought beside each other, I saved your life, I— Dyren, please, just look at me, I—”

Lord Halforth still refused to spare him a glance. “Our past,” he said, “is as worthless as your future. You are no partner of mine. Now be quiet.”

Following orders at last, Sir Depravity said nothing more. He took a step back, and half-collapsed into the wall, defeated.

Coin was almost too frightened to breath, the room was so tense. From where he sat, Coin could see just a small profile of Lord Halforth’s face. Grey eyes stared out in an empty gaze out to nothing at all, his expression clenched like a cap tightened on a bottle about to explode.

However much anger the Lord Moderator might have been keeping in, he did not allow himself to show it. “Lady Violet,” he said. “I will see that your friends are removed from their current lodgings and given more appropriate ones, but there is another matter I must broach with you. According to Authority law, the false testimony offered by these two was directly and maliciously aimed to harming your cause. As such, you are a wronged party, and the decision to press charges for their behavior belongs to you and your fellows. Do you require time to make that decision?”

“No, my lord,” Lady Violet answered, nonplussed by the drama that had unfolded before her. “For Sir Alwin—” The named knight cringed, knowing what was coming. “—I would prefer that no charges be dealt.”

Save for Halforth, everyone in the room looked to her in amazement. Not least Sir Alwin: the man’s jaw hung open as he stared blankly. Coin was still trying to decipher what possible reason there could be for that mercy when the Lord Moderator spoke again. “And for the other?”

“I am afraid I must insist upon Sir Depravity facing the full measure,” she responded plainly.

Lord Halforth’s hands tightened again. “Very well. Sir Do-Not-Lead-Our-Family-Into-Depravity Blair? You shall be tried and sentenced for this crime by the Knight Prefects at the earliest convenience. Until such a moment, you are hereby stripped of any position or honor you might have once occupied as a knight, and confined to quarters until further notice. If you should attempt to interfere with this investigation further, I shall throw you in a cell torturous enough that even you would object to it.”

Sir Depravity did not answer, only nodding dumbly.

“Sir Alwin,” Lord Halforth continued. “For reasons I can only speculate upon, Lady Violet has spared your worthless hide this same fate. Since there are no charges, I technically do not have the immediate authority to remove you as a judge on this case. Not yet, at any rate. With this being the case, I do request that, outside of your official duties, you keep your carcass as far from my presence as possible until our time here is done and you are reassigned to the most miserable, Godforsaken hole that can be found in the Web. Am I clear?”

Sir Alwin offered a nod as well, eyes locked on his feet.

“Mister Cartwright and Miss Cawtler: take the prisoner into custody. The rest of you may leave.”

Silently, Percy and Abigail did as they were bid, leading a still-stunned Depravity Blair out of the room. Roger slinked behind them, ears pressed to his head. As soon as the Lord Moderator stopped talking, Sir Alwin also sped out, not looking behind as he ran away. Coin and Lady Violet stood to leave as tactfully as they could. Only Cellia lingered.

She stood behind Lord Halforth, looking at him with concern. “Your… your honor?” She lifted her hand just slightly, as though reaching out to him. “I—”

“I said get out,” the Lord Moderator snapped.

Cellia’s hand shot back, her face full of hurt. As she complied and left, Coin could not help but be worried himself. Cellia had built herself up on the basis of loyalty to her superiors. Now one of her mentors had betrayed the other, and the one that remained true was upset beyond measure and lashing out. When he made an attempt to follow her as she left alone down the hallway, Lady Violet put a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand your concern, friend. But right now, your task is with Sir Alwin.”

“Sir Alwin?” Coin asked, wondering what he had to do with all this. There was another question that came to mind, however. “My lady, why did you release him from charges? You know that he did perjure himself.”

“Because I think he can help us. And because, despite it all, I do believe that he is a good man.” Lady Violet pointed down the way where Sir Alwin had gone. “So long as he remains on this case, he is one vote that can turn the tides and exonerate our friends. If we can just sway him, we still have a chance despite everything with Dabrius. You remember what I told you about reaching out to him? Now is the time—tell him I desperately wish to speak with him, as soon as he can.”

“But what should I tell him?”

Lady Violet considered that. “Tell him that he is the only one that chooses if his family is disgraced or not. Tell him that he always has a choice, no matter how far down a path he has gone. Tell him whatever he needs to hear. And then tell him I will be happy to hear from him.” She gave him a smile. “Once you’re done, take a rest. This has been a… draining day for us all, I think.”

It took Coin some time to find exactly where Sir Alwin had gone. After questioning a few people, he found a room with voices coming from within. The walls were a pale ivory color, and the furniture within made of dark, polished wood. Sitting in one chair was Sir Alwin Cameron, so crouched over in his seat that his starchy uniform resembled a crumpled-up bit of paper. His long fingers were pressed hard against his forehead, his palms covering his eyes as he sat silently. Before him, however, Sir Borlund Barr stood pacing and fuming.

“… an outrage!” Sir Borlund shouted as he shuffled back and forth, jowls quivering as he spoke. “I never thought I would see it, but Lord Halforth has been bought out by the horse-lovers. Sir Depravity could see it, and now he’s been carted away like some criminal. How long before we’re next, Cameron? I tell you, we must do something about this before they come for us.” Sir Alwin did not answer him, his mouth twisted up and shut, but Sir Borlund did not care to stop. “We must remain together now, you see? We’re the only ones that can save us. I don’t care what—”

He halted when he noticed Coin at the door. Sir Borlund’s small eyes flared up in anger when he saw Coin’s uniform. “What, are you arresting me too? Try and take me, horse-lover: I’ll carve you a new mouth to speak your damned lies.”

Coin ignored him. “Sir Alwin?” he said into the room. “It’s Sir Coin Counter. I wondered if we could speak for a moment.”

“Cameron and I don’t care to bandy words with you, profligate,” Sir Borlund spat. “Take your threats and falsehood elsewhere, I have no time for either.”

“Sir, I… I really just need to speak with Sir Alwin.”

“He’s not speaking with anyone.”

“Well, then I would like to hear him say that,” Coin countered. “Sir Alwin, please.”

“You have no right to barge in and demand our time,” Sir Borlund shouted. “No right at all.”

Coin frowned. “I’ve been appointed liaison between the Authority team in this investigation and the Brony Collective. I do have that right, and Sir Alwin has the right to answer for himself.”

“Don’t you talk back to me you little—”

“I’ll speak with him,” Sir Alwin said quietly, stirring just slightly from his seat.

Sir Borlund spun around angrily. “What?”

“Can you give us a moment, please?” Sir Alwin said to his counterpart.

Borlund’s mouth twisted. “Obeying horse-lover orders. They will sink their hooks in you as well, Cameron.”

Sir Alwin rubbed his eyes. “I think I’ll be fine. Good day.”

Borlund’s face went red with an impotent rage, but he stormed out nonetheless, leaving Coin and Sir Alwin alone.

“Sir…” Coin began, struggling to think of what to say.

“I hope that you don’t blame Sir Borlund too much,” Sir Alwin began slowly. His hands were now gripping the arms of his chair. Coin could see that the knight’s now-uncovered eyes were puffy and red. “He holds your fandom responsible for his demotion in the Chan. He abandoned his post when men in orange-and-gold threatened to overrun the position he and his partner were assigned to. And now he’s here,” Cameron mused. “He hates you, but it was me that lied to Lord Halforth. I’m sorry.”

When he saw Sir Alwin sinking into his chair, Coin reckoned that he had never seen a more defeated looking person in his life. Any fear that Sir Alwin might have had about his future had just come true. It was his first assignment, and any chance he had of success had evaporated before he even had a chance to finish it. Dabrius Joh was not the only person who seemed dead already.

Not for the first time, Coin wished that Lady Violet had sent someone who better knew what to say.

“Sir Alwin,” Coin ventured, “Lady Violet asked me to come to you. She would like to talk.”

Sir Alwin’s face was a mask of despair. “Lord Halforth may not be able to remove me from my command right this moment, but he will go through any official channel to see that I’m replaced. Your lady will not need to worry about me soon enough.”

“She… she only said she wanted to talk.”

His mouth twitched. “I tried to talk to her before. I couldn’t bear it. How long were those men in that place because of me? How can I look anyone in the eye again?” He rubbed his eyes again. “I never wanted this, sir. Halforth was right. I’ve disgraced my family name.”

Coin had no idea how to respond to that. He is crushed completely. What can I possibly say? The fall that Sir Alwin faced was not one that was easy to climb back from. Coin could think of only one thing. “If you wish to not be like Sir Borlund—if you are willing to accept your own responsibility—then you should know that you are the one that can make it right.” Coin tried his best to sound right, no matter how much he doubted himself. “Do you recall when we last spoke? You asked me how long a knight needs to wait before he conquers fear? You wanted to know when you could do it?”

Sir Alwin nodded. Coin sighed. “That time,” he continued, “is now.”

At first, Sir Alwin said nothing, just staring off. But eventually, he spoke up. “I will meet with her. I would like to see your Warden of Honesty, too. Tell them, sir.”

Coin had to repress letting that feeling of triumph coming across his face when he rushed back through the Palace. It was premature to celebrate, he knew… but it was a hope.

Still, he knew that it was not enough. Finally bringing Cameron back into the fold was good, but having no one to back up Dabrius’ innocence was still a crushing blow. Coin could see no way around it—if they could not produce a single witness or gain the evidence to support a single alternate theory, the generous man in the cell below was doomed. And they could not find such a witness if Dabrius did not tell them, either. The Bronies had managed to find one place where the Changelings met, but no others so far, and even that brought them no closer to actually learning who they were. Even if we did know, would it help? Coin wondered ruefully. They would have to agree to testify, and their own lives would be endangered if they did. As far as the Society went, Coin had no clue at all how to proceed.

Before Coin got much further, however, he noticed something. There was a small crowd of people outside the room where Coin had met with Sir Alwin. They were courtiers and nobles, so far as Coin could tell—he did not claim to have the small familiarity with the Dreamweave upper crust that the diplomatic team had, but he could recognize fine clothes and fashionable hair. The group was milling around, talking in low tones to one another, and most were faces that Coin did not know. But there were two that he did.

One was Byrios Amberten, that unfriendly man that he had exchanged words with some time ago, the same one that seemed eager not to be seen in public speaking to a Brony. Even now, when Amberten noticed Coin in the distance, he frowned and turned away immediately.

The other, however, was Heylen Ott, that patchy-skinned cybramancer, chatting with an elderly nobleman. His luxurious blue robes did little to hide his unnatural condition, but there were other things about him that Coin knew were hidden more deeply. Coin still recalled having bumped into him: the words that the Grandmance of the Dreamweave had said. The value of truth versus lies, the importance of an oath to stay silent even when speaking out was right… and in a moment, Coin gained a new understanding of what that meant.

The Bronies had to find the Changeling Society, come Hell or high water. At this moment, Coin knew they had only one lead.

As though sensing someone there, Heylen Ott turned and met Coin’s gaze. Unlike his fellows, Ott smiled and waved politely. Coin did the same back, nervously. Seeing that, Amberten scowled, wrenched Ott around away from Coin’s view, and started pointing his finger and saying something that looked a great deal like scolding to his companion. All the while, Ott continued his strange half-smile.

Coin moved on, knowing there was another business to take care of in that moment. But at the same time, a thought had come to his mind, one that turned to a firm resolve as he strode. For the first time in a long time, Coin Counter knew precisely what to do.

* * * * * *

… so John and Abigail and Aurheim were invited to the manse of the Theel, the richest man of Am-Azon, whose palace was built of many snow-filled plazas of orange stone and fountains whose waters froze as glass in the long winter. The Theel was wealthy beyond measure: gold and silver were piled high in his hall, alongside ivory tusks and pearl-laden seats, and it was said that he spent more in a day than many men did in a lifetime.

The Theel had heard much of the wise foreigners and the Poorfellow they befriended, and so he wished to display the bounty of his home to them and welcome a new curiosity. So they went, and arrived at the Great Ivory Gate, and were brought inside.

The Theel walked with them through the manse, and showed them many things. There were drinking horns carved from a sea serpent’s fangs, the gilded ribs of a whale, a vast menagerie of animals, and draperies of many colors. Great crates of powdered dyes were stacked under the vaulted ceilings, and inks even from the far east were used to decorate the banners. Hundreds of retainers and trading captains were assembled to garner favor where they could, but the Theel could afford to pay them little mind. The treasure vault was the greatest of all: coins from many sites, diadems encrusted with amethysts and opals, ancestral urns, and cloaks of bear fur and roc feathers were piled high for all to see.

After showing this, the Theel turned and asked of his guests, “Who is the most fortunate man whom you have met in your travels?” For he expected that the answer would surely be the Theel himself.

John considered the answer carefully, speaking with Abigail and Aurheim for their views. After much deliberation, he said, “Jormet.”

The confused the Theel greatly. “Who is this Jormet? What wealth has he?”

“Jormet was a name I learned six days ago,” said John. “He was first mate on a whaling ship that was accosted by a beast. His duty was to direct his shipmates off the ship into the whaleboats so they might reach safety. This he did, but died in the process.”

The Theel was yet more confused. “You say this is the most fortunate man you have met, and yet all you say of him is that he died in an unfortunate way.”

“Perhaps,” replied Aurheim, “but he died well, and no man is fortunate until he is dead.”

The Theel would reflect on this and consider it carefully for several days. After six days, he invited John, Aurheim, and Abigail to his manse once again.

— Excerpt from The Books of Black and White

Comments

[Seraphem]

ohhhhh you and your timing!!!!!!! Just as I'm heading to bed, gotta work in the morning... and trying to get this other review done.....

Be glad this story is so damn awesome

[Brother_William]

I feel as if Sir Alwin will join the Fandom at the end. Maybe not now, he's in hot water as it is with Halforth, but nearer the end.
And Halforth still remains my favorite character, with Honesty coming a close second. Will is everything, and these men dedicate their all to the purpose.

[Yami Vizzini]

Well, that encounter went better than I hoped, even if they didn't get everything they hoped out of it. And Honesty is as great as ever (as indeed are Violet and Halforth). The ball's really rolling now....

[Seraphem]

Alright, so, now the bronies have tipped their hand to the mods about what they suspect, mods, or at least Halforth, is just so fucking done with this bullshit and wants the Martes to stop being obstructing assholes and get to the damn point. Things are moving into place to wrap up this stuff... which I'm eager for because, 1. Don't want ti dragged out to long. 2. Been so frustrating seeing the Bronies on the defensive and so just, made to look without any hope, be great to see them going on the attack and dropping an Orbital Friendship Canon level swath of destruction to the martes schemes, 3. I'm just so damn eager to get to the even BIGGER plot the story has been hinting at being building in the background and get to see the other Mods come in and be awesome too. Also, yeah, you have got some of the worst timing for when you post these things.. just before I head to bed, had to work, another commentary story updated, have a rather massiv ereview I've been trying to get done, PLUS, still got some epic Zelda to play, and some.... way to damn dull, boring and lacking in real energy for what it's supposed to be about Iron Fist series to slog through (At episdoe 5 and, it hasn't been 'bad' just, kind of dull and plodding with really mediocre, low energy action scenes, but it seems this is a series that picks up around ep 6 or 7 so we'll see.)

Amelioration Pattern: Authority term, a strategy used to reverse a poor prior decision and create a new, more effective solution.

Well, that sounds logical, and kind of like they actually have a term specifically for 'We fucked up and are trying to fix it." Again, shows that, for all the bullshit and other bad things about them, they really are TRYING to do the right thing. They aren't mindless, bureaucratic Knight Templars (Well not all of them at least) I'ts just, they are to fixated on their way being the ONLY way 'right thing'. Again, falling to hard on "Law Equals Good" version of Lawful Neutral

The answers were looking Coin in the face, but only now was he beginning to understand.

Ohhh gotta love that feeling, at once both "OH FUCK YES!" as you realize it and "Oh I'm a fucking idiot" for not seeing it earlier.. had quite a few moments like that in Breath, but not as many as you would think, mostly due to just how damn many ways there are to solve problems in this. There is no one 'right way' you are meant to do. (Case in point, one of the first four shrines has a chest on a ledge, you can use your new Magnesis Power to just pull it down, levitate a metal block up to push it off, or create a pathway with a metal beam up to it, and that's just the simple solutions.) Still, the important thing is you found the answers.

For six days

Figure at least a day for them to get those.. ti's been a week since the attack? And guessing jack shit has happened to move things along so.... yeah Halforth has got to be be running out of any hint of patience.

But now that he had chanced on a lead, Coin could practically see the light breaking through.

Yup, you finally notice that one little hint, and the whole puzzle slips into place. LOVE that feeling!

Needless to say, it was enormous fun.

Sure he gets volunteered for a lot of stuff... but that's just how awesome the Bronies are.. they volunteer you for things you actually have fun doing.

make sure that Red Autumn behaved himself and did not try to break out of his bandages and return to the field. Again.

Yup... definitely a follower of Applejack, Patron Saint of pure, unrelenting stubbornness.

the Martes’ finances were as impenetrable as a fortress wall, and every bit as formidable.

Now, as a result of them being that skilled, and that careful to hide things. Planning this out so well they hid this so deeply, no one should have found it. Or just.. out of pure incompetence making it such a jumbled mess that it's hard to see any pattern at all?

but possessed a temperament that made him talented at drawing together separate leads and making conclusions.

So their version of "The Question" then? With or without the rampant paranoia and conspiracy theories? But yeah, this works, one person that understands all this stuff, another with a good idea of it and some skill, but not AS steeped, and one other who is good at listening, but far enough outside to see things they might miss, or ask the obvious question they all overlooked for being so simple. Very good team.

nigh incoherent at times

So incompetence... likely with some planned out things taking advantage of the clusterfuck to hide things better. Afterall, "Do not ascribe to Malice, that which can be accounted for by gross incompetence." and there is plenty of gross incompetence to be seen here. And, vanishing money, over payments... Arcadio is either buying himself some stuff on the sly, and/or funding others elsewhere.

It lists that they received a large influx of unlisted items on that day.

Hehe, sometimes, you can reveal what you don't want to be found, simply by what you try to hide.

I asked for a datagram to be sent to the harbor authorities from Askobarr, where the Blurrite traders came from.

Also, keep in mind... you aren't the only ones keeping records.

“Right to the assassins. Men from the city watch disguised as a mob and sent after us, I mean.”

plus some basic thugs or other ruffians they had no trouble taking into a bit of 'fun'. Still, very smart, well done tracking of this stuff. Good attempts at hiding that follow right along with the Martes so far, clever, but nowhere near as clever as they think they are, and clearly chronically underestimating their foes out of their own puffed up ego not allowing them to even consider anyone but them could be S-M-R-T.

How could they think to get away with it? It would be impossible for someone not to notice.

And they notice just how incompetent that was.. hmmmm, was I right about it just being them being incompetent, or more to this going on?

A foolhardy assumption. The kind that’s bred by people used to things going their way.

A more succinct way of wording it yes.

“Good,” said Coin Counter, “because I think I’m going to stretch my legs.”

Hey, you need to keep moving, don't want muscle atrophy on top of other issue afterall. That should be excuse enough, right?

I mean, she’s usually nice, but she has a thing for ‘doctor’s orders,’ and you really don’t want to see her mad.

Yeah..... and you know Fluttershy's followers are the ones that know JUST how to scold you to make you feel like a little kid that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Coin realized that he had forgotten about the robe he was wearing.

Hmm, I know it's not likely, more just a basic, thin robe or something but, I can't keep the image out of my head that all worlds have those stupid 'gowns' that leave your ass hanging out and he was about to go walk around the palace in it.

A moment later, Coin was in his orange uniform again,

That.... has got to be a PAIN to put on with a wounded shoulder. Or, is it just the thicker orange robe deal? because, shoulder issues, you really, REALLY are not going to get a shirt on at all.

being sure to give a ‘thank you’ when they offer aid is an excellent way to show that their efforts are appreciated.

Six days, and they are still trying to get through the idea of 'thank you', guessing the last five were lost just trying to get him to understand the concept of the word 'please'.

Say no more, sir. I need plausible deniability, if I am asked.

Again, she's so damn awesome. She's pretty much everyone's 'Cool Aunt'.

intriguing intrigue for the enterprising investigators, is it

Okay.. it's likely just me, but the being SO close to full alliteration, but JUST off really bugs me.

She’s teaching the Warden courtesy? How could anyone manage that?

A metric fuckton of patience and the ability to wield words like they are sledgehammers.

the Warden grunted, seeming perfectly traumatized at his new education.

I should not be grinning so much at his 'suffering' and yet......

Coin did his best to explain what they had found

Alright story, good way to skip stuff we really do not need to hear again rather then go back over the point, quick, succinct, and works well. Kudos.

but mathematics is often a far more deadly foe

It's true, afterall "Sir Isaac Newton is the deadliest sonovabitch in space!"

do you suspect they will convince our judges of the same?”

Worst Mod, nope, Third Worst Mod, unlikely at this point unless you manage to finish the spine installation Honesty started., Halforth.... unlikely this alone will be enough for him to see as definitive proof, but maybe enough to convince him there is something here he needs to investigate further. ... Of course, then he'll likely just sic Second Worst Mod on that so..... fuck.

Colloquially, one might call it the ‘opportune moment.’

I prefer the Star Wars term "Shatterpoints" so much more epic sounding.

“it is with me. The Lord Moderator, he—“

It?

“Arcadio finally budged?”

OHHHHH bought time, really hope we get to see or hear about this.. and no, more likely Halforth stopped playing around and reminded him of just how much a Moderators hammer can move... or reduce to rubble. But YAY! Knew Halforth was going to get fed up with delays soon. Now, will Halforth be with them for this to actually see the treatment?

The Lord Moderator is well past the edge of his patience, as are we. Until now he was willing to swallow excuses and play along, but that time has passed.

This is literally my expression right now.

He happened to have given me this signature, one that will open any door. And if it will not open, I quite literally intend to break it down

Ah that is the 'it' and, not even bothering with Martes, just giving the Bronies Carte Blance NICE, bout time things went there way. Also... if you are doing that, bring along Honesty.

“Not yet, which is why we must move now

OHHHH even better, don't give him time to plan or react, just take the initiative and RUN with it.

Retrieve them and bring them with us

Oh... oh... ohhhhhhhhhhhh that is fucking BRILLIANT! Do I really need to detail the plan? No, we all know what it is and.... oh damn is this a good one! Just... bravo... this is really going to be awesome.

“Let them try.”

Again, bring Honesty. See how few of them even try. Two. She is so passed giving a fuck and 1000% done with this shit and it is GLORIOUS. 3. Coin.... this is why should be MOVING ALREADY!

“Sir Coin, the time for doubt is long gone. Our hour is now. Make it happen.”

Kind of a shame she had to lay out the plan so blatantly, would have been better to keep it just that unsaid, but still crystal clear approach and all the implications. Coin should be able to get this, plus talking is not a free action here. All leading up to... WHY ARE YOU NOT RUNNING ALREADY COIN!

Still, nice summery, but eh.. prefer it to not be spelled out so directly when it isn't needed.

it would be Arcadio the one opportunity he needed to ruin the plan.

Yup, gotta go fast, also... typo detected.

“I have a new report from the Cha—”

She is just THAT eager to deliver her message promptly and appear diligent.. she really was waiting behind the door for the knock, wasn't she?

And now I have the image of her having been there for like, an hour and already done this to a maid and some random guard that knocked on the wrong door.

Also, more good luck, you found the one mod most likely to listen to you right away.

“Lady Violet has requested you, she wants an Authority agent with us,”

AKA, get your butt down there. NOW!

I am on the edge of my seat.. just.. don't let this fail, don't let this fail....... Might be short on replies here, just want to see what happens, quickly.

She worships him, Coin knew. The Lord Moderator is her idol, and to her he has no flaws at all. “Lord Halforth,” said Coin as emphatically as he could, “is wrong.”

Ohhhhhh fuck... that might be the worst thing to say... even if it is true... still, you might be able to salvage this, after all, this is her chance to prove it beyond a doubt....

But so did I. One of us is lying, them or me, and now you need to sort out which.

Yup, and this was the approach I was thinking, she respects Knights and truly believes in everything they stand for, so, make sure she remembers, Coin stood for all that as well. It is a conflict of data, and the most logical thing to do.. would be to discover the answer herself through the quickest and most objective means. Just go look for herself.

“That’s one thing that knights are always ready for.”

“Alright. But I intend to issue a full report on the matter regardless of what I find. If you’re mistaken, his honor will know.”

Fair enough.

the lady had rounded up Crispin Peck, who bounced along with oblivious cheer to what might be a grim meeting.

Well I'm cheerful too, but more for what might happen before and after this meeting.

Behind them was the Warden of Honesty,

Okay.. that just made me literally SQUUUEEEEEEE!!!!! Oh this just got at least 200% more potentially awesome.

. “Hello,” he struggled to say to the Peacekeeper.

Okay story... very, VERY nice use of a bit of levity to keep the tension from exploding. In character, makes sense, and fits the situation, well done. As long as they are talking while walking... rapidly.

“Lord Halforth has spoken well of you.”

Called it. Seriously have him do the talking for you, it would be glorious.

Moderators. Lord Halforth said thanks should be given to staff.” The Warden of Honesty was grimacing, but did not speak so harshly. “Thank you.”

Oh.. ohh. ohhh this scene just... ohhh story... hate to say this but... I don't think I can love you anymore then I already do... but by all means, keep trying, damn this was awesome.

Coin could hear them as well—shouts from a familiar voice, and barked commands. He prepared himself for who they would find below.

And caught in the act... ohh this is going to be good.

“Oh shit,” he uttered carelessly.

Buddy, you don't know the half of it.

“Listen to me now: you are not to open this door no matter what these shit-heels demand of you, understand?”

Oh yeah, that is JUST the thing to say, IN FRONT OF A MOD! And, like all of his kind, catch him off guard and he panics, lashing out stupidly. Still, this is good news, means he's scared of what they will see.

sad to say, obliged to follow.

Yes, oh so sadly... What? What expression? This is my sad face.........

Also I feel really sorry for this guy, either way... he is screwed, two forces he can't oppose.

“Do you recall that other lesson of courtesy I told you about? Holding the door for a lady?”

OH FUCK YES!!!!! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!

Lady Violet leaned towards a stunned Coin. “I did say that I intended to break it down, did I not?”

OH HELL YES YOU DID!

“You will pay for this, horse-lover,” he spat at Lady Violet as she passed by.

Awwwwww.. what's the poor little shit going to do that won't just screw him even more then he is about to be screwed?

“Yes, send me the bill whenever is convenient, my lord. I promise this: it shall only be the first thing I aim to repay.”

Also, Arcadio, do NOT try to get in a duel of words with her, she will DESTROY YOU!... in many sense of the words.

Coin knew that the smart thing for Arcadio to have done would have been to clear out the dungeons

Key word "Smart" Arcadio's first priority, is "Sadistic"

Her mouth hung just slightly open as she looked around, examining the place with mute horror.

And so long First and Second worst mods. This is going to be fun seeing you try to explain.

Her arms were crossed, her hands gripping her sides tightly, and her back bent out of its ordinary rigid straightness—as though some great weight was pressing down on her shoulders.

And.. I really do feel sorry for her, she truly is a good person and want to do the right things, now having to confront... just how fucking sick the world can be, as well has having to face having her idealism cracked through knights, those she idolized, proving to be just as fallible and petty, and evil as others for allowing this, and lying about it. But.. given what we know of her, hopefully, this will simply serve to temper her, make her stronger, increase her resolve to do the RIGHT thing....

Faint sounds could be heard when the light passed over. One person screamed.

“It is that time again?” he asked calmly. “Get on with it then, you moon-banished bastard.”

And still defiant, battered but not broken... oh hell yes!

“I… I would offer an unqualified apology.”

Oh hell yes Celia! That's it.. we'll make a true Paladin out of you yet.

“It was not your fault that our friends are done here,

HUZZAH THE TYPOS HAVE BEEN DOUBLED!

I cannot imagine why in the Web Sir Depravity and Sir Alwin would have lied about this, but it cannot stand. It will not, I swear

YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!

Balefire

And it seems a follower of the Lightbringer, I already liked him, and this just solidifies it. Now.. will we get to see Halforth going full Arbu over this abomination?

“What happened on the night of Sir Harald’s murder?”

DUN DUN DUN!!!! Time for a story and this gonna be good.

“I was in Nightside, my lady. Meeting with the Changelings.”

Expected.... go on....

. These are important people in the city, and they can move things if need be

Hmmmm, more high end then we thought, can see them being sick of the Martes' screw ups ruining the city, if only because it weakened there own wealth and prestige.

They’re good men, and friends to the fandom.

So, where does "The Oathbreaker" come into play? And, how'd they start with that? Still, good to hear if true.

For his own part, Coin was lost. That name, ‘Oathbreaker,’ seemed vaguely familiar to him, though. Where had he seen it before?

All over the place, really getting a tad annoying it keeps coming up so prominently without being explained....

“Er, pardon me, my lady,” Coin interrupted, “but who are we talking about?”

FINALLY!

“Welcome to the fandom, then,” Dabrius said, as nonchalantly as a person locked in prison could be.

I REALLY like him.

“Friend-killers. Dissolute. Devil-led. They seek paradise through the way of Smiling Skull. Shall not find it. Worse than dead.”

So... followers of Discord then? How'd they take his whole reformation thing? Or, Tirak? Seems to long ago to be him. Still followers of a god of chaos, add in the whole stuff with everything else, gee, I can see no commonality at all there.....

We are a hair’s width away from your freedom, Dabrius, I promise you that.”

Especially once the wrath of Halforth slams down on this place.

“Why?”

]
Oaths.

“Your own life will be forfeit without their word,” Dalwin answered quietly. “You have no alibi without them.”

And he will take that sacrifice for them. And yes, I very carefully choose that wording.

“I would fight for my friends. I would happily step out of this cell to keep fighting for them, if I could. I would fight for them, my lady. But I won’t make them die for me.”

Very, very much a disciple of the Lightbringer, and you sir, do her great justice.

Coin could tell she was wiping away tears.

Oh, don't go giving up now, you have Halforth's reaction to this to look forward to, plus, if you can meet the Changelings themselves without his help....... well could still pull this off.

Coin could hear some words exchanged between them and the Wardens, and some loud discussion after they glimpsed within the cells,

Good thinking Celia, get as much proof and as many backing you up as possible.

We can’t win, he thought.

Bullshit.

This is what we’ve come to. We’re lost.

Again, Bullshit, you are NOT giving up now

“we’re not done yet.” He motioned over across the room.

Exactly.

he could only assume that he was there due to being the Moderator liaison.

Likely, plus the fact you dragged Celia into this

“—no idea what it is. Perhaps they finally found the evidence, and we can put this farce behind us,” said Sir Depravity Blair, as he approached.

Ah, waiting on the asshole to arrive for his proper reaming.

Maxim 51: "Let them see you sharpen the sword before you fall on it."

saw Sir Depravity and Sir Alwin

Both of them... ohhhhh yes. To bad you can't get fatso in on this.

. How much of that time have you filled with lies?

And given this is Halforth... he's not going to rant, scream, explode... ohhhh no... no no no, he's much much worse. Prepare for some epic Tranquil Fury.

You are no longer capable of performing that simple task that I valued you for. Now I am forced to look back and wonder how much of what you ever said was true.

The sound you are hearing right now? Is your entire life and career, crashing to rubble around you.

I will find some legal means to have your tongue removed, I swear it.

Oh fuck....... I knew he'd be pissed but... just... DAMN!

you must know that I had never lied to you before,

Dude... not going to work, at all... you done fucked up BIG TIME!

“They’re guilty, they deserve to be done there!” Sir Depravity shouted back

Yeah yeah keep telling yourself that... also, typo number 3

My cousin Giles was disgraced fighting them in the Chan, and now they think they can ride over all the Web as well.

Ah, and here we see the issue... wow you are fucking petty. But by all means, dig that grave a bit deeper.

Dyren, please, just look at me, I—

Not what you want right now dipshit.

However much anger the Lord Moderator might have been keeping in, he did not allow himself to show it.

Seriously, this dude has got a fucking iron will. Damn.. again, all the respect for his self control.

As such, you are a wronged party, and the decision to press charges for their behavior belongs to you and your fellows. Do you require time to make that decision?

Dipshit Jerkass, do it. Spineless toad.... there is still some hope for him.

“For Sir Alwin—” The named knight cringed, knowing what was coming. “—I would prefer that no charges be dealt.”

Very smooth going, got one mod on your side, and so, now it's just down to Halforth, and he will rule on the facts alone so.... you have hope.

“I am afraid I must insist upon Sir Depravity facing the full measure,” she responded plainly.

And bingo, great going Violet. One did it out of malice, the other, out of fear, and has clearly come to regret doing so. Meaning, well, if there is one thing The Six show repeatedly, it's a capacity for forgiveness beyond all but the most saintly people. But only for those that admit they have faltered and seek to become better.

you keep your carcass as far from my presence as possible until our time here is done and you are reassigned to the most miserable, Godforsaken hole that can be found in the Web. Am I clear?

Halforth..... not so forgiving. Alwin, you have ONE CHANCE, do not screw it up.

“I said get out,” the Lord Moderator snapped.

Ouch... and even HIS self control has limits.... Just, again, I really feel sorry for the poor girl this chapter...

Because I think he can help us. And because, despite it all, I do believe that he is a good man.”

Exactly.

Tell him that he always has a choice, no matter how far down a path he has gone.

Just, just... this is... first the epic, OH FUCK YES and now, the softer, the.. the.. the reminder that it is NOT being badasses that make The Six the paragons they are, but THIS.

“We must remain together now, you see? We’re the only ones that can save us.

Oh yay, and hes delusional too, great. Still... go ahead bitch, try something right now.

“Don’t you talk back to me you little—”

Yeah, you are REALLY going to win this......

He holds your fandom responsible for his demotion in the Chan.

Because ti's easier to blame others because YOU screwed up.

He is crushed completely. What can I possibly say?

Here's an idea. What would Applejack say?

“Do you recall when we last spoke? You asked me how long a knight needs to wait before he conquers fear? You wanted to know when you could do it?”

Sir Alwin nodded. Coin sighed. “That time,” he continued, “is now.”

Maybe not that.... but still... HELL YES!

I would like to see your Warden of Honesty, too. Tell them, sir

Ohhh this is going to be good.....

As far as the Society went, Coin had no clue at all how to proceed.

Okay, what happened to the 'mancer lead?

They were courtiers and nobles, so far as Coin could tell

ORRRRRR, Just wait till they find you.

the same one that seemed eager not to be seen in public speaking to a Brony.

Not personal hate, but rather fear and survival mechanism to not cast suspicion of his true feelings.

The other, however, was Heylen Ott, that patchy-skinned cybramancer, chatting with an elderly nobleman.

Yup, well this is rather furtioutous

and in a moment, Coin gained a new understanding of what that meant.

Took ya long enough.

. For the first time in a long time, Coin Counter knew precisely what to do.

OH YEAH!!!! Okay, not what I thought, but still, a lead you should have had a while ago.

the richest man of Am-Azon,

Seriously... that name....

“Who is the most fortunate man whom you have met in your travels?”

Not you.

“Perhaps,” replied Aurheim, “but he died well, and no man is fortunate until he is dead.”

Ah, one of those ways of looking at thing.

Still bit more build up and story of the Mods formation, not bad.

Okay, this chapter.... umm, it's... I....

yeah that about sums it up.

[Lord Max]

8041815

Also, yeah, you have got some of the worst timing for when you post these things

Yeah, I can agree on that one. I had actually meant to post this on Sunday, but I managed to contract the plague and had to delay it to the next day, and then I had to delay it until the evening due to work. Hopefully that won't be necessary again, and I'll be able to post at a more reasonable hour.

some.... way to damn dull, boring and lacking in real energy for what it's supposed to be about Iron Fist series to slog through (At episdoe 5 and, it hasn't been 'bad' just, kind of dull and plodding with really mediocre, low energy action scenes, but it seems this is a series that picks up around ep 6 or 7 so we'll see.)

I wasn't really sure what to think of that series from the trailers I saw. I watched a few episodes of Jessica Jones and was very unimpressed, but I do love the Marvel movies. Perhaps I'll give the TV shows a second try.

Yup... definitely a follower of Applejack, Patron Saint of pure, unrelenting stubbornness.

Indeed. I quite like the Honest Eyes in general and Red in particular for just such a reason. I thought it was an interesting change of pace to have a band of total fanatics that one can still root for.

So their version of "The Question" then?

Dalwin has fewer crazy theories about toothpaste and more of a face, sadly.

Hmm, I know it's not likely, more just a basic, thin robe or something but, I can't keep the image out of my head that all worlds have those stupid 'gowns' that leave your ass hanging out and he was about to go walk around the palace in it.

Damn, I wrote this character and that was a mental image that even I could have lived without.

Six days, and they are still trying to get through the idea of 'thank you', guessing the last five were lost just trying to get him to understand the concept of the word 'please'.

Just wait until they get to silverware placement! I think Honesty will have a few specific ideas as to where to put the knives...

Okay.. it's likely just me, but the being SO close to full alliteration, but JUST off really bugs me.

An attempt at added alliterative appeal, albeit abruptly averted?

I should not be grinning so much at his 'suffering' and yet......

If there's one thing I love, it's seeing Honesty uncomfortable.

It's true, afterall "Sir Isaac Newton is the deadliest sonovabitch in space!"

And I'll just sit here and hope that the new Mass Effect is a good game...

She is just THAT eager to deliver her message promptly and appear diligent.. she really was waiting behind the door for the knock, wasn't she?

And now I have the image of her having been there for like, an hour and already done this to a maid and some random guard that knocked on the wrong door.

Yup, that's Cellia. Who needs a social life anyways?

Oh.. ohh. ohhh this scene just... ohhh story... hate to say this but... I don't think I can love you anymore then I already do... but by all means, keep trying, damn this was awesome.

Challenge accepted.

Lady Violet leaned towards a stunned Coin. “I did say that I intended to break it down, did I not?”

OH HELL YES YOU DID!

You have no idea how much I loved writing that whole scene.

And it seems a follower of the Lightbringer, I already liked him, and this just solidifies it.

He won't be the last one, either.

I REALLY like him.

Me too, now that you mention it. I wasn't sure for a while how exactly to portray Dabrius, whom the reader has already heard so much about, but I was very satisfied with the character after writing this.

Just, again, I really feel sorry for the poor girl this chapter...

Cellia has a trial of her own to go through, but I personally think she'll be equal to the task.

Seriously... that name....

Badum-tish

typo detected.

HUZZAH THE TYPOS HAVE BEEN DOUBLED!

typo number 3

Drat. And those last two were just the same exact typo repeated! Clearly, I need to step up my game.

8039631

They make for an interesting pair, don't they? Two absolute fanatics on the surface, with a certain vulnerability within, on opposite sides but still having that begrudging respect. You'll see plenty more of both, don't worry.

8040433

Once momentum starts, it is very hard to stop. Prepare for a new dynamic in this investigation - from now on, the Bronies intend to attack, attack, attack.

[psychicscubadiver]

Ah... now that was some payoff worth waiting for.

I do hope this is a sign that the tide has turned. With this not only have the Bronies destroyed the credibility of Sir Depravity, but gained sympathy with the younger crowd of Mods. And the word of the Martes is likewise disgraced. They cannot plead ignorance of the prisoners true condition either, since Cellia saw Arcadio attempting to bar entry to the dungeon. This sound cast enough doubt to get the Mods to at least lend some credence to their claims about the financials of the Martes. Enough to warrant further investigation, surely.

The momentum belongs to the Collective now, despite Sir Coin's worries about Dabrius.

[Seraphem]

8046443 Very much yes, add onto that, having to see first hand, and experience the fact that, despite what Halforth thinks and believes, no, not all Mods can put aside their feelings and biases to be fair and judge only on the facts presented meaning he might start to doubt fatso and be stricter with him as well. Yeah things are looking up for the bronies, and Violet does not seem the type to let the momentum they are building go to waste. Plus they realized they have a lead on the Changelings now to sort that mess out.

OHHH Plus, the single biggest piece of evidence they have is the 'confession' which the Mods are now likely to toss out since they saw how it was obtained. All else is merely circumstantial.

8042002

I wasn't really sure what to think of that series from the trailers I saw. I watched a few episodes of Jessica Jones and was very unimpressed, but I do love the Marvel movies. Perhaps I'll give the TV shows a second try.

Daredevil and Jessica Jones are supposed to be really good, and everything I've seen says yeah, they kind of are but, just not ones I really like or want to get into. DD becuae of how overall dark and moody it seems, JJ becuase the whole idea it's based on creeps me the fuck out.

Luke Cage is freaking AMAZING! And Iron Fist.... yeah it's dull, plodding, tedious and just "I do not give a crap about these characters" (Save for Colleen Wing, she was awesome) for most of it, but it does pick up near the end and get pretty damn good.

[Doggyshakespeare]

Coin was almost too frightened to breath, the room was so tense.

"breath" should be "breathe", and the comma should be replaced with a semicolon.

Sorry if this has already been mentioned in this chapter, but what exactly did the two Moderators lie about, and when? I'm kind of confused.

[Seraphem]

8049762 The condition the prisoners of the Martes were being kept in. Specficly the Brony ones since they were the only ones the Mods were here to have a trial with, but in general just the state of the prisons. The Mods do have rules about how prisoners should be dealt with, they aren't monsters, and being starved, left in their own filth, and beaten, as well as just the overall conditions they were in, are very much unacceptable. But Depravity said that they were being treated fairly, and in accordance with Moderator rules, because he hated them and thought they deserved to be treated like that, Alwin was simply spineless and was bullied into agreeing by Depravity and Fatso.

When the mods first arrived (before the bronies got there) Halfroth sent the two of them to inspect the cells and see to how the prisoners were being treated, they said everything was fine, and so he believed them and didn't think to look again, as well as not believing the Bronies when they complained, thinking they were just whining, or trying to lie to get better treatment etc..... and now that he knows well...... pissed does not even begin to cover it.

[Pascoite]

I case you hadn't seen this...

I recommended the story to Chris long ago.

[Lord Max]

8080389

Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I was shocked when I saw a notification saying that my story was in his "Reviewed" folder, and I've just been geeking out about the whole thing since then. I really appreciate the recommendation - reviews like these are some of my favorite things to hear about, and they're a huge help in making this story. Seriously, I can't thank you enough!