CRISIS: New World Order

by GanonFLCL

Chapter Thirteen: Enjoyment

Room arrangements had been made at the royal palace for the group that would be traveling south. Most of the rooms at the palace were big enough to be shared by two ponies and still be more than comfortable, so the group opted not to hassle their hosts for separate lodging. Bluebolt already had her own room, naturally, and was sharing it with Symphony, also naturally. Sundial shared a room with Weaver, which earned a few odd looks from the group except for Rarity, who had approved wholeheartedly. Rarity took her own room since their group was odd in number and it just seemed appropriate.

This left Flurry to share with Bloom, which they were more than happy to do. Before this whole adventure, Flurry had considered all of the Cutie Mark Crusaders to be her friends, even if they didn’t see each other all that much. Now, though, she felt a certain kinship with Bloom because of all of the experiences they were going through together. Sure, Bloom spent most of her time with Bluebolt and Symphony, what with the former being family, but that was to be expected and Flurry actually found it rather endearing. She enjoyed seeing her friend be so happy.

So, when King Lockwood arrived late the next morning to collect Bloom to go meet her extended family for lunch, Flurry asked if she could come along.

“Sure you can come along!” Bloom said with a smile. “I’d love fer ya ta meet mah family wit’ me. It’s only fair since I know yer whole family, right?”

Lockwood seemed to agree. “The more the merrier, I always say, especially when it comes to family get-togethers.”

“Yeah, same wit’ the Apple Clan back home!” Bloom agreed. “When the family gets together, it’s always a big ol’ shindig wit’ Apple folk from all over, yeah? I remember when we had a big ol’ reunion when Applejack 'n' Flathoof got married. There must’ve been a hundred ponies there!”

“And besides that,” Lockwood continued, “your Aunt Twilight played a big part in my recovery after I got hurt up north, and my family never got a chance to thank her for it. I know it’s not the same, but they’d probably like to meet you. Send a little thanks to Twilight through you, y’know?”

Flurry smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Lockwood, I appreciate it.”

And so, the little group made their way from the royal palace up to the surface, their destination being a popular sandwich shop. Flurry, Bloom, and Lockwood were part of this little group, naturally, as was Gunpowder, Lockwood’s personal guard. But, also along for the journey was Lockwood’s youngest daughter, Princess Dreamchaser, as well as her own guard.

Dreamchaser was, as far as Flurry was concerned, the most precocious, adorable young filly she’d ever met, which was saying something considering she’d spent two months getting to know Tick Tock’s daughters. She was a pegasus like her parents, and had a grayish-blue coat and a turquoise mane with a dark blue streak running through it. Her cutie mark was a heart made of pink fire. She wore a cute little blouse and a lovely tiara, which meant she was the only member of the royal family that actually wore what Flurry recognized as royal attire. She seemed to be the same age as Tick Tock’s twins were, too.

The other bodyguard was a unicorn mare, barely older than Flurry herself, with a warm orange coat and a light green mane. She didn’t wear armor like Gunpowder did, but carried a sidearm at her side, mostly hidden by a belt holster. She also didn’t talk much, but then again she didn’t really need to.

“You’re really pretty, Miss Heart,” Dreamchaser said as the group made their way up the elevator to the surface. The little filly was riding on her father’s back. “Like, really, really pretty.”

“Well thank you, I appreciate that,” Flurry replied with a smile. “You can just call me ‘Flurry’ though. There’s no need to be so formal.”

“Okay, Flurry!”

“I love your little tiara. It makes you look like a… well, a princess.”

Dreamchaser grinned. “Yup! Because I am a princess,” she said as if it were obvious. “It’s a proper princess tiara for a proper princess, like Mama says.”

Lockwood turned his head to look back towards his daughter. “And you look simply adorable in it, cutie pie.”

“Why don’t the rest of your family wear anything like that?” Flurry asked.

“Oh, we all have our own reasons. Blackburn hates jewelry so much that she’s only made two exceptions in over twenty years: a gift from me when we were dating, and our wedding earrings. Me, I’m just not fond of something so fancy. Have you ever tried to turn your head real quick while wearing a crown?”

Flurry tilted her head. “Plenty of times. I’ve never had any trouble.”

“Huh… well, maybe it just naturally to some ponies,” he said with a shrug. “Anyway, Bluebolt’s just like her mother—don’t tell her I said that—and Fireglow’s just like me.”

“Speakin’ o’ which, I’m lookin’ forward ta meetin’ yer son when we get down south, Lockwood,” Bloom said. “It’s awful neat ta have so many family members doin’ so well fer themselves, y’know? Still blows mah mind that I’ve got royalty in mah family.”

“Y’know, it just occurred to me that, in some distant fashion, you’re technically royalty, too,” Lockwood said with a grin. “I mean, I’m not sure exactly how royal lines work and all that, but you’ve still got that connection if you ever wanted to use it.”

Bloom chuckled. “Shucks, I don’t need ta worry 'bout none o’ that. 'Sides, Applejack’s got more claim ta that than me, an’ Flathoof more’n she does, right? So don’t go thinkin’ I wanna go 'round callin’ mahself ‘Princess Apple Bloom’ or nothin’ like that, y’hear?”

Dreamchaser’s eyes widened. “But Aunt Bloom, that’d be so cool! We could be princesses together!”

Flurry found it rather endearing that Bloom didn’t correct Dreamchaser on the whole “Aunt” thing, but then again, the filly was about the right age that Bloom seemed to find nothing wrong with it. If anything, Flurry thought that “Aunt Apple Bloom” sounded just fine and didn’t quite understand her friend’s distaste for it coming from Bluebolt, but then she didn’t have anypony to call her “Aunt Flurry” to make that kind of judgement.

“I, for one, think you’d make just a lovely princess, Apple Bloom,” Lockwood added, winking at Dreamchaser. “I can see it now: you, in a frilly white dress, a cute little pink tiara on your head.”

Dreamchaser gasped. “A pink tiara! Like her bow! That’s so cute!”

“Hol’ on now, I think I’m a lil’ far from bein’ a princess, ta be honest,” Bloom said with a grin as she looked between the two. “But if ya want ta play Princesses or somethin’ later, Dreamchaser, I’d be happy ta play wit’ ya. I used ta play it sometimes wit’ mah friends when we were yer age, so fair warnin’, I’m pretty darn good at it.”

“Oh wow! I wanna learn too! Can you teach me? Huhn? Can you can you can you?”

“What, teach ya how ta be a princess?” Bloom asked.

Dreamchaser nodded. “Yeah!”

Bloom shrugged. “Well sure. I guess I can give it a try?”

Flurry smiled and put her hoof on Bloom’s shoulder. “All things considered, I can’t think of anypony better suited for helping a princess find her way, hmm?”

Bloom smiled back at Flurry. “Heh, yeah, I guess not. Thanks, Flurry.”

The elevator reached the surface, and the little group made their way to the sandwich shop at a quick, pleasant pace. Flurry noticed that the citizens walking through the streets definitely realized that their king was walking about, but she also noticed that their reactions were much different from how Flurry expected them to be compared to how it was done back home.

When her mother and father walked the streets of the Crystal Empire, everypony always bowed to them, with rare exceptions. She herself got much the same treatment, really, and had been taught that it was just how the “common folk”—she disliked the term—tended to treat royalty. She was too young to remember if the same had been done for Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, but she knew for a fact that Aunt Twilight got the same treatment when walking through Canterlot, Ponyville, the Crystal Empire, and most every other part of Equestria at large these days.

The citizens of Hope’s Point, however, did not so much as stop what they were doing to even hint that they were going to bow in King Lockwood’s presence. They diverted from their paths a bit to give him room to move, of course, and looked or pointed in his direction with smiles and waves, which he acknowledged with nods or waves of his own—Dreamchaser did so as well, only more enthusiastically—but if anything the citizens treated him more like a respected celebrity than their ruler.

The sandwich shop reacted much the same as those in the streets, mostly. There were a few brief bows, sure, but nothing like those Flurry was used to seeing when she and her parents visited a restaurant back home, or when she had a lunch date with Aunt Twilight, or if she visited a hay fries shop by herself. Even the other patrons just remained in their seats and gave polite waves to their king and his entourage as he led them into a separate room at the restaurant. It was all very, very peculiar, and Flurry wasn’t sure what to make of it.

When the group finally reached the private room that had been arranged for their lunch date, they found Bloom’s extended family already waiting for them. Each of them stood immediately, wide smiles on their faces, as soon as Lockwood walked in with Dreamchaser and Bloom. Flurry watched as Bloom was practically swept into the room and introduced to her family members in rapid-fire succession, as if taken up by a tornado of hugs and grins and love.

The oldest two ponies here were Stouthoof and Shortcake, Flathoof’s birth parents, who from what Flurry understood had also adopted Lockwood through some complex series of events.

The former was a tall, butter yellow earth pony stallion with a short, strawberry red—though heavily graying—mane. He had clearly been quite robust when he was younger, as his frame was rather large, but the years had definitely gotten to him and he’d lost some of that physique. He wore a neatly pressed shirt with a tie that seemed a little too stuffy and tight for him, as if he wasn’t quite comfortable in them.

The latter was a tan earth pony mare with a long, curly, orange mane with little streaks of gray through it—she’d aged far better than her husband, it seemed. She was a little heavy-set, but not much, and filled out the pretty blouse she wore quite nicely. She had kind, motherly eyes behind a pair of large, horn-rimmed glasses.

Thickhoof was a cream-colored earth pony stallion with a rich brown mane, wearing a crisp suit. Flurry remembered Flathoof saying that his brother had been crippled a few years before he’d met Applejack and was confined to a wheelchair because of it. Bluebolt, however, had mentioned that Thickhoof had gotten treatment, and this was evident due to the pair of prosthetic hindlegs he had. They were more robust and had a more “modern” feel than Flathoof’s single foreleg, but then they were supposed to allow Thickhoof to actually walk, not just serve as replacement limbs.

Lastly was Pattycake, the only sister, and Flurry was rather surprised to see that the mare was nearly identical to Applejack: orange coat, blonde mane, green eyes. She wore her mane short and wavy compared to Applejack’s braids and lacked Applejack’s freckles, but otherwise the resemblance was pleasantly uncanny. There had apparently been a bit of a hullabaloo about Flathoof looking similar to Big Macintosh, and it seemed that it extended to the whole family at this rate. She also dressed differently from Applejack, wearing a cute blouse and skirt not at all suited to working on a farm.

“Shucks, y’all’re just one big, happy family!” Bloom said as she was passed from pony to pony for hugs. “I feel like I’m right at home wit’ the Apple Clan. We’re a bunch o’ huggers, too.”

“Oh, good, then you’re already used to it,” Lockwood chuckled as he pulled out a chair for Dreamchaser to sit. “I was thinking about warning you, but I had a feeling that you wouldn’t need it. Applejack seemed the type to give a hug rather than a hoofshake if she had the opportunity.”

Besides greeting and introducing themselves to Bloom, they did do for Flurry as well, though not with quite as much fanfare or tornado-hugs.

“So, Lockwood tells us your aunt is Twilight Sparkle, the dear that helped put him back together?” asked Shortcake in a sweet and motherly tone that put Flurry at ease instantly.

Flurry smiled and nodded. “That’s right. She told me all about it, namely how stressed she was about the whole operation. I can’t imagine the pressure she must’ve been under doing something so delicate.”

“She did a fine job of things, I must say,” offered Stouthoof with a gruff, polite nod. “Our boy always did have a habit of getting himself hurt doing stupid, selfless things, but from what we’ve been told that was quite a doozy he was in. Biggest one yet.”

“And all for a mare that wasn’t even his fillyfriend,” Pattycake scoffed. “Blackburn wasn’t too happy about that part when she heard. I’m surprised your friend Fluttershy didn’t burst into flames or something.”

Lockwood tugged his collar. “Hey now, no need to go bringing that part up, Pattycake. That’s all well, well behind us, yeah?”

“How is your aunt these days, then?” asked Shortcake. “It’s a shame that we never got a chance to thank her personally for all that she’s done for our family.”

“Oh, she’s doing very well these days, actually,” Flurry said.

She then carefully considered how to explain the whole situation back home without making too big of a fuss about it, since she wasn’t sure how they’d react to certain bits of information—namely her ascension as an alicorn.

“Well, her mentor, Princess Celestia, retired a little while back, and chose Aunt Twilight to take over for her after she left.”

“So, what, your aunt is a princess?” asked Thickhoof. “Like our little Dreamchaser over here?”

Flurry nodded. “That’s right. And not just over one city, either, but over the entire nation of Equestria.”

Thickhoof let out a breath. “Wow, that’s quite a promotion.”

“I’ll say,” Pattycake added, shaking her head. She turned to Lockwood. “It’s kind of like how you got promoted from just a two-bit landlord to King of the Landlords just because you met the right mare.”

Lockwood chuckled. “You know me, Pattycake, I always meet the right ponies.”

“Does that mean you’re a princess, too?” Dreamchaser asked, eyes wide with wonder.

Again, Flurry paused in consideration. She didn’t like to lie. So she wouldn’t. “I haven’t gone through my official coronation yet, but I was born into that family. Aunt Twilight is my father’s sister, and my mother is a princess, so I guess that makes me a princess, too,” she added with a smile. “Just like you.”

Dreamchaser gasped in awe, her eyes sparkling like diamonds. “Wowww…”

“Well, when you see your aunt again, dear, give her our love and thanks,” Shortcake said with a smile. “We owe her a great deal.”

“I will,” Flurry replied with a smile of her own.

Once that was out of the way, Bloom got her big chance at last to share stories with her extended family about their shared connection in Applejack and Flathoof’s union. Flurry just sat back and listened to the family enjoying one another’s company.

Smiles, gasps, and laughs spread about as Bloom gave them all the news about Flathoof’s marriage to her sister, of the three children they now had, and of the success that the farm was seeing because of their union.

In return, Bloom got to hear stories about what Flathoof was like when he was younger, things that Flathoof likely would’ve never shared with anypony either out of embarrassment or humbleness.

All the while though, Flurry’s elation for her friend’s happiness waned ever so slightly. Seeing Bloom get to spend time and share stories with her family, as well as talking about Aunt Twilight so fondly, made Flurry miss her own family tremendously. The conversations with them over Sundial’s TARDIS connection were wonderful, of course, but they weren’t the same thing as having them there in front of her to talk to, to hug them, to be hugged by them.

She was just realizing how vastly different things were for her in this strange world. Rarity had plenty of old friends to catch up with. Apple Bloom had family to meet and share stories with. But her? Sure, she’d made new friends, but she knew that within the next week or so she’d have to leave those friends behind, much as Rarity had done once before. She had Rarity and Bloom with her, naturally, but they spent more time with the ponies of this world than they did with her. She didn’t blame them for it, of course, but it was still a fact. Flurry otherwise had nothing in this world to connect with. No old friends, no extended family, no memories of journeys from long ago.

She was getting desperately homesick.

Lockwood set his hoof on her shoulder. “Hey. Are you alright, Flurry?” he asked, quietly enough that nopony but her could hear it.

Flurry looked to him with a soft smile. “Oh, I’m just fine, Lockwood, thank you. I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“About what?”

Flurry paused, then shook her head. “I don’t want to bother anypony with it.” She gestured towards Bloom and her family enjoying a fine conversation. “I mean, look at how happy everypony is. I’m happy for them.”

“Ah, I see,” Lockwood said with a nod. “Y’know, I was the same way, once upon a time. More content to make sure others were happy, even when I myself was suffering.”

“I’m not suffering—” Flurry started.

“There are different levels of suffering, you know?” Lockwood gave her a small smile. “Listen, I’ve been married to Blackburn for longer than you’ve been alive, and you don’t stay married to a mare like her without picking up a few things. She’s very observant, and so I’m very observant. I can tell when something’s bothering somepony better now than when I was younger.”

Flurry fidgeted in her seat. “It’s no trouble, really.”

Lockwood paused as if thinking something over, then abruptly rose from his seat. “Everypony, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take my leave.”

Bloom raised an eyebrow. “Huh? How come?”

Lockwood smiled. “Well, you look like you’re having the time of your life over there with the family, and I’ve hardly been able to get a word in edgewise. Besides, I have a few duties to take care of—it’s busy work, being a king—so I figured you guys have everything well in hoof here.”

Shortcake nodded politely. “Of course, dear, we understand. Your city needs you. Don’t let us keep you.”

Dreamchaser waved at Lockwood to get his attention. “Is it okay if I stay here, Daddy?”

Lockwood walked around the table to kiss his daughter’s forehead. “Of course, cutie pie. Enjoy some time with your new aunt, hmm?”

“Yay!”

Lockwood then turned to Flurry and gestured towards the door. “Flurry, I’d appreciate it if you came along with me.”

Flurry pointed at herself. “What? You want me to—”

“Come along with me, yes. I was going to take a little walk through the city, and seeing as you’re a foreign dignitary and all that, I figured I should show you around the city like a proper diplomat should be doing. It’s part of my royal responsibilities, after all.”

“I don’t know…”

Bloom smiled and nodded at Flurry. “Go on, Flurry. Y’all were sayin’ that ya wanted to have a lil’ look ‘round 'n' all. Sounds like fun, havin’ the king o’ the city himself ta show ya 'round, huh?”

Flurry paused in thought, then nodded and rose from her seat. “Yes, that does sound like fun, actually.” She smiled at Lockwood. “Alright then, Your Majesty, shall we go?”

“Right away, Your Royal Highness,” Lockwood said with a smile and a slight bow.

Lockwood led Flurry out of the sandwich shop—Gunpowder followed along, naturally—and into the streets of Hope’s Point. The two walked side-by-side as they went street by street, with Lockwood showing off the various sights and attractions the city had to offer with a flourish of hooves and a pleasant tone. Flurry felt that Rarity’s comparison of the city to Manehatten was more than appropriate, as the city had all the amenities that a big, modern, well-populated city should have.

Bluebolt had shown some of these venues off the day before, of course, and Lockwood showed off a few of the same, but he spoke with a different sort of tone than his daughter had. Bluebolt was excited to show off her home, clearly seeing it as a symbol of pride since she’d be ruling it herself one day. Lockwood, however, was showing things off as though he were an instructor or a tour guide. He was still proud of everything, but he was also trying to explain the deeper meaning behind what he showed off.

“You know, you and I have quite a lot in common, despite the things that we don’t,” Lockwood said as they strolled about.

“How do you mean?” she asked.

“When Blackburn chose me to be her partner, her husband, her king, I understood that I had some pretty big horseshoes to fill. Her father was loved by the citizens of the city for helping them prosper and grow; her grandfather was loved for founding the city in the first place and giving them a sanctuary; Blackburn herself brought the best qualities of both, giving the city more hope for the future than ever before.

“So, naturally, I was under a lot of pressure,” he continued, shaking his head. “Sure, Blackburn said everything that she needed to say to make me feel better about it, but deep down I knew that I had a legacy to live up to. She didn’t just want me to be her husband, she wanted me to be her king; she wanted me to rule with her.

“My point is, I understand the pressure you must feel back at home, and that’s why I brought you out here to chat. At least, I think I understand. Am I on the right track here? Tell me if I’m off base and just making a fool of myself, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Flurry sighed and nodded. “Yes, I think you are. I’ve felt a great deal of pressure growing up, and I’ve never known how to really deal with it, you know? I don’t think anypony really understands it. Maybe Aunt Twilight, but if anything, she’s part of the problem.”

“Well, go on then,” Lockwood said with a smile. “Lay it all on me. I’ve been told I’m a good listener, and I think I can understand your situation just fine, hmm? Well, maybe not all of it. After all, I’m not a… what’s the word, ‘alicorn’?”

Flurry’s eyes widened. “How did you—”

Lockwood smiled. “Blackburn figured it out within a minute of meeting you and told me all about it. That coat you’re wearing hides your wings amazingly well, but she noticed them shifting underneath when you spoke, much like pegasi do with their own wings. Now that I’ve been watching you for a little while, I’ve noticed it too.”

“You can’t tell anypony,” Flurry hastily said, looking around to make sure nopony was nearby. “Sundial says we have to keep it a secret.”

“Don’t you worry, Blackburn and I have no desire to reveal any secrets like that to anypony. It was just an observation on her part. Plus, Twilight seemed to indicate that all of the alicorns of your world were princesses: Celestia, Luna, and Cadence, at the time. And now herself as well, from what Rarity was telling us?”

“And since you know who my mother is and that I’m a princess too—” Flurry nodded in understanding. “You just put the pieces all together.”

“Like I said: we’re observant,” Lockwood chuckled. “Now, I believe you were going to talk with me about the pressure you’re feeling? Sorry about the little tangent there.”

“Right.” Flurry took a breath. “Well, my mother is the Princess of Love and rules the Crystal Empire alongside my father, who was the Captain of the Royal Guard under Princess Celestia for years. Princess Celestia, Princess of the Sun, ruled Equestria for thousands of years. Her sister, Princess Luna, Princess of the Moon, was feared as Nightmare Moon for one thousand years before having that evil purged from her, and before that she ruled alongside Celestia.

“And, of course, there’s Aunt Twilight. The Princess of Friendship. Princess Celestia’s most celebrated student ever. The mare who helped purge the evil from Nightmare Moon. Wielder of the Element of Magic. A savior of Equestria several times over. The princess personally chosen by Celestia and Luna themselves to take over as the ruler of Equestria when they retired. Not to mention that she’s a savior of the multiverse.

“But then there’s me,” Flurry continued with a sad smile. “The first natural-born alicorn since, well, ever, I think. Daughter of Princess Cadence, the Princess of Love. Niece of Princess Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship. And despite all of that, I still don’t know what I’m the Princess of.”

Lockwood pondered this. “Twilight did explain that your world’s alicorns embodied abstract concepts like that. I can imagine not knowing what concept you’re supposed to represent might be a bit stressful.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Flurry shook her head. “So, yeah, I’ve been under a lot of pressure to live up to all of that.”

Lockwood nodded in understanding. “Do you know how I’ve dealt with the pressure of being the king of this city?”

Flurry tilted her head. “No, how?”

“By not focusing on myself, or on my troubles. It’s how I got through life up north, back before I met Blackburn. I focused myself entirely on others, on their worries, their concerns, and their hopes and dreams. I figured that, no matter how bad my life was or could be, the one thing that seemed to actually give me any semblance of feeling was helping others. Sometimes I went a little overboard, I admit, but my heart was always in the right place.

“It’s what I did when I became King, too. I focused all of my efforts on helping my wife rebuild her city. On helping my new ‘subjects’ to look to the future with hope and ambition. On making sure that everypony around me was looked after and taken care of.

“You see, my only worry was whether I’d ever live up to some ideal I thought had been placed upon me, but the pony that placed it there was myself.” He gave her a smile and set his hoof on her shoulder. “So the only pony I can see that’s putting that pressure on you to live up to some ideal is you. And the only way to get past it is to do everything you can to make your own ideal.

“Focus on what you think is right, on what you want to see in yourself, not on what you think others expect. The only way you can live up to your own ideal is to go for it, not to worry about how others see you. As long as you’re trying your hardest, nopony will look down on your efforts. And even if you struggle along the way, you’ll have your friends to help guide you and offer support. Considering who your aunt is, I’m certain friends aren’t hard to come by,” he added with a nudge.

Flurry smiled back at him. “I think I understand. I don’t know how well I’ll do, but I’ll give it a try.” She took a breath. “Just focus on what I can do, “ she said to herself, “not on what others think of me.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lockwood clapped her gently on the shoulder. “I have faith in you, Flurry. I know I don’t know you that well, but something about you just makes me feel hopeful for the future, you know?”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“And I mean it, too. And, I don’t think I’m the only one who does, either. I heard about the things you’ve done for your friend… Weaver, was it? That takes a pony with a strong compassion and a hopeful outlook to have made that work. You and Sundial should be proud about the efforts you’ve put forth there.”

Flurry smiled again, feeling a little embarrassed. “I just think that everypony deserves to have a second chance, and to have hope for their future. All I did was give him that opportunity.” She then paused and nodded at him. “Just like you did with Starlight Shadow and her sisters.”

“Ah, well, I suppose the situation is quite similar, isn’t it? By the way, you have no idea how awkward that conversation was with Bluebolt and Blackburn last night.” Lockwood let out a breath and smiled. “I think my wife nearly had a heart attack finding out Grayscale Force’s daughter is her niece.”

“Did she handle it that poorly?” Flurry asked with a frown.

“I think Blackburn has moved on, to a point,” Lockwood said with a shrug. “She’s still angry and bitter about it all, but, well, life’s too short to carry a grudge forever. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive them for what they did, but she seemed perfectly ‘neutral’ about their new lives. Trust me, that’s a dramatic improvement.”

“If you say so.”

“Incidentally, I hear you’re friends with the changeling queen, Aculeata?”

Flurry tilted her head. “I suppose I am, yes.”

Lockwood grinned. “I almost forgot to tell you, what with the whole family gathering back there, but Queen Aculeata got to meet with my wife this morning, and from what I understand they hit it off fairly well. The changelings are more than welcome to stay here in the city if they want.”

“Oh! Well, that’s wonderful. I’m sure with such a large population, they’ll have all the ‘food’ that they need.”

“Indeed. And, since our residences are all underground anyway, it’s a rather convenient setup. Also, the queen apparently put in a very strange request,” Lockwood said, raising an eyebrow. “Something about a ‘donor’? I assume she means like a stud, like what lesbian couples sometimes use?”

Flurry turned red. “She just came out and asked about that right away?”

“Yeah, she said something about having a very precise ‘fertility period’ coming up in the next few days, and that she needs time to choose a proper consort for the job.” Lockwood shrugged. “Well, anyway, Blackburn approved it, so long as she didn’t pick me.”

Flurry shook her head, embarrassed. “W-well, good for her, I’m glad she got that sorted out.”

Lockwood smiled. “At any rate, shall we continue the tour?”

“Certainly. Lead the way.”

*****

Rarity had been a little curious when Bluebolt had asked her to come along with her today after lunch, more so that she supposedly had somepony to introduce her too. But, considering that they had the time, that Bluebolt had seemed quite insistent on it, and that Rarity didn’t have anything planned until dinnertime—where she would meeting Tick Tock, Pewter, Blackburn, and Lockwood for a little get-together—she saw no harm in indulging the princess on this little venture. Though she was also a little curious why Symphony wasn’t with them.

“Oh, she’ll be meeting us later,” Bluebolt said as if it was common knowledge. “She’s meeting with her sword instructor to see about getting some new blades and all that, y’know, since hers got lost and broken in galant defense of our lives from two mad kirin?”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Rarity said with a nod. “I suppose if you two are coming down south with us—which you’ve seemed insistent on so far—she’ll need some new weapons to wield. You can never be too careful, especially if you’re traveling through someplace where there’s apparently a threat of war.”

“Exactly.”

“So, who exactly is this pony you want me to meet, anyhow? I must admit, I’m growing more curious by the minute, darling.”

Bluebolt grinned. “You’ll see. Trust me, you’re gonna really like this. I’ve been waiting for a chance to do this since winter.”

“Really? My oh my, this pony sounds quite interesting indeed if you’ve been thinking about introducing me for that long. Come on, tell me something.”

“Nope! It’s a surprise.”

Bluebolt led Rarity to a small chamber off to the side of one of the many halls in the royal palace. The room itself was sparsely furnished with only a few tables and chairs and not a great deal of decoration. A private meeting room of sorts, it seemed, or a lounge.

Currently, the only occupant in the room—aside from Rarity and Bluebolt, of course—was a zebra mare who sat in one of the chairs at a larger table. She was clad in light, white robes and kept her mane and tail in neat, braided locks. At her side, leaning against the chair, was a rather elegant-looking longsword covered in runic markings.

The zebra rose to attention as Bluebolt and Rarity entered and gave a little bow. “Hello, Princess.”

“Hello, Zyra,” Bluebolt greeted with a nod.

The zebra then turned to Rarity, and her jaw dropped just slightly, and her eyebrow raised. “And you are?”

Rarity smiled and approached, offering her hoof. “How do you do? I’m Rarity.”

Zyra took Rarity’s hoof, though her hoofshake seemed rather lax. “Rarity… aha. Now I understand.”

Now it was Rarity’s turn to raise an eyebrow, confused. “Understand what, dear?”

Zyra smiled at Bluebolt. “I understand why our princess asked me to come here today. I had been most curious until just now.”

Rarity tilted her head. “I’m afraid I’m feeling a little lost. Up until this moment, most everyone I’ve met were more confused that I knew them, not the other way around. It’s rather odd being on the other side of things.”

Bluebolt smiled and took a seat at the table. “Go on, Rarity, sit down. Trust me, you’ll need to.”

Rarity slowly did as she was asked. “Okay, I’m sitting.”

Bluebolt then gestured to Zyra with a grin. “You’ve met Zyra now, but you don’t know who she is. Well, besides being my mom’s bodyguard, friend, and confidant, you’ll notice that she’s, y’know, a zebra.”

Rarity narrowed her eyes. “No, I didn’t notice.”

Bluebolt ignored the sarcasm. “So, when I heard about your little story all about how and why you, Bloom, and Flurry ended up here, my thoughts went to Zyra pretty quickly, and I just knew I had to introduce you two to each other when we got home.”

“Bluebolt darling, please, get to the point. You’re keeping me in suspense here and it’s rather unbecoming.”

“Okay, okay, sheesh,” Bluebolt chuckled. “Zyra here came to Hope’s Point a few months before I was born. But, in those months between you and your friends leaving and her coming here, she apparently knew Sir Zircon.”

Rarity’s eyes widened a little and she gave a look towards Zyra. “Really? Well, I mean, I suppose that’s not really that surprising. It was only shortly after I left.”

Bluebolt smirked and leaned back in her seat. “Go on, Zyra, tell her what you told my mom about him. What you’ve told me and Symphony about when you talked about your homeland.” She gave a short look to Rarity. “You know my mom grilled her about zebra culture right away, right?”

Zyra gave Rarity a little smile. “First, I will say that I won’t claim to have known Sir Zircon well. He is of a higher caste than most zebras, and rarely interacted with those outside of a few select circles. I am not what you would call a friend or family. But I did know him, even before you two met.”

Rarity frowned. “Ah, I see. Then you are an ex-lover, perhaps?”

“Oh no, nothing so bold as that, though I would have not refused if he had ever asked,” Zyra laughed. “Do not frown, Miss Rarity. I think you will find my news quite interesting.”

“Well then, don’t let me stop you. You have my attention.”

Zyra took a short breath. “Before I left Zeb’ra’den, I was a Priestess of Layk—our fertility and nature goddess—and so I often met with the upper castes in the course of my duties. I was present with King Zaratite when he and his newest wife engaged in one of our sacred rituals to ensure she produced a foal.”

Rarity grinned, a mild blush on her face. “Ah, I remember that discussion. Twilight was dreadfully confused about the whole thing. She didn’t quite get the metaphors.”

Bluebolt leaned over and whispered: “Mom and Dad won’t talk about it, but it’s a very intimate ceremony, usually given as a wedding gift or something. Don’t tell my mom that I know about it, but Zyra told me the kind of stuff she used to deal with.”

“Perish the thought, darling. But how does your mother—” Rarity paused, then grinned. “Oh ho ho, I see.”

Bluebolt raised an eyebrow. “See what?”

“Nothing, darling, don’t mind me.” Rarity turned back to Zyra. “Go on, dear, sorry about that.”

“At any rate, I knew Sir Zircon before that, for his brother, Lord Zinc, also made use of our holy services. Sir Zircon helped organize it as a wedding present for him and his wife, Lady Zuri. More than once, in fact.” Zyra cleared her throat. “But I am getting ahead of myself. I knew Sir Zircon then, and I knew him after he met you. It would take a blind mare not to notice the change he underwent.”

“The ‘change’?” Rarity asked, nervous. “Oh dear, something didn’t happen to him, did it?”

“Oh, something assuredly did happen, Miss Rarity. You happened.”

Rarity blinked. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“I was only in Zeb’ra’den for a few months after you left, but in that time, Sir Zircon began acting quite strangely. He replaced his broken greatsword with a more elegant falchion, quite unbefitting of him, as he’d used the heavier blade since he was just a squire. And then there was his new hobby: sculpting.”

“Sculpting?”

Zyra nodded. “Yes. He often ventured down from his tower chambers to seek out materials in the market. Crystals, stones, wood, and other sorts of things. Usually he would take them back with him to his tower to sculpt, but at times he would travel out into the snow to work his craft. I only saw him working a few times, but he showed me his sculptures. I will never forget the intricate details:

“A unicorn shape. If the material was not white naturally, he would dye it or paint it. He sculpted the most intricate curls in the unicorn’s mane, and dyed or painted these a vivid purple. The eyes were a striking blue, almost lifelike. As a zebra, I did not appreciate the beauty of his work as he did, but I could see in his eyes how passionate he was about his craft. And when you walked into this room, Miss Rarity, I knew you instantly, for I have seen you before in those sculptures.”

Rarity felt her heart skip a beat. “He… he was making sculptures… of me?”

Zyra nodded. “At the time when I left, he was. His sister, Lady Zora, did not hide her disdain for his behavior, either. After the events at the Beacon, Miss Rarity, Sir Zircon was lauded as a hero. His family was petitioned many times for marriage and breeding requests—our High Priestess had to confirm with the family at times to ensure the ones we received were legitimate. And yet he refused each and every one of them.”

“I see.” Rarity took a deep breath. “I don’t suppose you know anything more than that, do you?”

Zyra frowned and shook her head. “I am afraid I do not, Miss Rarity. As said, I left Zeb’ra’den less than a year after those events. I have remained in Hope’s Point since then and made a life of my own here.” She paused, then smiled. “I have even taken a husband. I sometimes hear news from my homeland, but no such specifics, and I never thought to ask.”

Rarity nodded. “That’s quite alright, dear, I wouldn’t have expected you to. I’m honestly not sure if I should feel elated at this news.”

Bluebolt raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t you? This is good news, right?”

Rarity sighed. “Even after we left, I still pined for Sir Zircon, you know this. My friends didn’t understand when I explained it years and years ago. ‘You only knew him for a week,’ Rainbow said. ‘Do you even have anything in common?’ Applejack asked. Hmph. There’s more to love than that, you know?

“I still regret not opening myself to the possibility sooner. Maybe if I had, we’d have been able to figure out a way for him to come with me then.” Rarity leaned back in her seat and let out a breath. “He told me that he fell in love the instant he laid eyes on me, that that place in his heart belonged to me. It took me days to realize that I felt the same and had only been resisting because I didn’t want to go through what Fluttershy had with Lockwood, or what Applejack had when she thought Flathoof was dead.

“So, we parted ways and I returned home without him. Over the years I’ve made many an attempt to move on from him, but nothing ever quite met the standards he had set. Just like he said to me that night, there is a spot in my heart that belongs to him, and him alone. And try as I might, it still does, and always will.

“Oh, the first year wasn’t all that bad. A handsome stallion might have said just the right thing to make me smile, or looked at me in a way that made my heart flutter, but I never really took any of it seriously. Then more years passed, and I realized I was making excuses for every suitor that failed to meet my standards. ‘He’s not charming enough’, ‘he doesn’t smell right’, ‘he dislikes poetry’, ‘he’s not as rugged as I would like’, and so on.

“By the time my sister was old enough to move out on her own I realized that I was… alone. I realized that I felt lonelier in the winter, when the snow fell outside the boutique. I realized that… I really, truly hadn’t gotten over him. I never could I’d left a part of me with him when I left that I could never get back.”

Rarity shook her head and looked at Zyra. “And now I find that he might very well have done much as I had. I know I should be elated that he loved me so deeply that he carved sculptures of me for months after my departure, but I’m also worried that I might have ruined his chance to be happy. Perhaps he could have been happier with a zebra mare.”

Zyra set her hoof on Rarity’s. “Do not think such things, Miss Rarity. The goddess Layk teaches that love is the purest, most powerful force there is: stronger than steel, hotter than fire. Harmonia would surely agree. If Sir Zircon’s love for you was as strong as I saw, and yours for him as strong as you say, then surely love will find a way.”

Rarity gave her a weak smile. “Your words are kind, Zyra, thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I will hold out hope. That is the most I can do.”

“I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you,” Bluebolt said with a grin. “I mean, from everything I’ve heard about him from you, he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would just forget, y’know?”

Rarity nodded, then let out another breath and turned back to Zyra, a little smile on her face. “Darling, might I ask you a question?”

Zyra tilted her head. “Yes, of course.”

“I’ve noticed that you don’t speak in poetic meter. You don’t even rhyme, for that matter. I hope it’s not rude of me to ask why?”

“Oh, not at all,” Zyra said with a smile. “There are two reasons for it, actually. First, and most importantly, this is Hope’s Point, not Zeb’ra’den. There is no need here for the cultural posturing of poetic meters as there is in my homeland, where every caste, rank, and social position determines how one speaks, and how one speaks identifies one’s worth. Here, my actions speak for me, so I may speak freely.

“Secondly, from the news I have heard, my kind have relaxed their use of meter, restricting it only to interactions with one another. They no longer speak to ponies or hippogriffs in such a way. It is their way of being more welcoming to outsiders. Her Majesty claims that her and His Majesty, King Zaratite, agreed that it was… easier to understand one another if they spoke plainly.”

“Ah, I see. That’s quite interesting.”

Rarity pondered this for a moment, wondering how Sir Zircon spoke these days. Then she decided it didn’t matter; she didn’t find him charming because he spoke in meter, she found the meter charming because it was him speaking it. Then again, there were all sorts of odd complications to that way of thinking that she couldn’t parse through at the moment.

Zyra then turned to Bluebolt. “Forgive me, Princess, but it is getting late and I set a time to meet my husband after our meeting here. I’d best not keep him.”

Bluebolt dismissed that thought with her hoof. “Please, Zyra, this is me we’re talking about. I’ve already taken care of everything. He’s gonna meet us here.”

Zyra raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Truly? I should not be surprised.”

“Ooh, I’d love to meet your husband, Zyra,” Rarity said with a grin. “Did he come here from Zeb’ra’den with you?”

Zyra tilted her head. “Hmm? Oh, no. My husband is not—”

The door to the room opened, and Symphony strode in with a happy smile on her face, engaged in pleasant conversation with another pony.

The other pony, who came in right after, was a unicorn stallion a little older than Rarity was. His coat was a blueish-gray, his mane a misty white, and he kept the latter in a rugged, dashing style. He had a thin mustache just to top off the look, and wore a set of light clothing fit for fencing. He carried a rapier sheathed at his side. Rarity was rather reminded of a roguish swashbuckler from one of her romance novels.

The pony brightened as he walked into the room. “Aha, there she is, mi bella esposa. I have missed you so.”

Rarity’s eyes widened as Zyra rose from her seat to greet the unicorn. “Stillwater, love, it has not been long since breakfast, hmm?”

“Too long, my love, too long.” The unicorn—Stillwater—pulled Zyra in for a passionate kiss that made Rarity blush. “Every moment apart is an eternity.” He broke the kiss to look at Rarity. “Ah, and who is this? Zyra, my love, I did not know you had company.”

Rarity smiled. “A pleasure to meet you… Stillwater, was it?”

“Sí señorita, and the pleasure is mine, I assure you.” He suavely took Rarity’s hoof and gave it a pleasant kiss. “And you are?”

“Oh my, Zyra, your husband is quite a charmer,” Rarity tittered. “I’m Rarity, good sir.”

“Ah, a lovely name for a lovely mare.” He turned back to Zyra and pulled her in for a hug. “But not as lovely as my darling Zyra, perdóname.”

Symphony gave a wistful sigh. “Aren’t they just perfect?” she said, looking to Rarity meaningfully.

Bluebolt smirked. “Who would’ve imagined a zebra and a unicorn would be a wonderful match?”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Okay, you two, I see where this is going. I appreciate the gesture, truly, I do, but you didn’t need to take up this lovely couple’s time to make a point, hmm?”

Zyra tilted her head. “No time has been wasted, Miss Rarity. My husband and I meet for dinner once a week around this time, for I am normally busy at Her Majesty’s side. The Princess clearly arranged things so that our meeting occurred here and at this time so that you could meet us.”

“And it is a lovely thing to do, I agree. If you insist that it was no trouble—”

“None at all,” Zyra said with a smile. “I am happy to help you.”

“What are you helping this lovely mare with, my darling?” Stillwater asked. “Whatever it is, I am sure you have handled it espléndidamente.”

“She’s been helping me with a… love problem,” Rarity said, a little embarrassed. “Long story short, I’m rather enamored with a zebra myself, and Zyra here apparently knew him once. Bluebolt thought—correctly—that I would enjoy hearing about him again after a long time apart. Which I did.”

“And that she’d love to meet the two of you,” Bluebolt added with a grin. “There aren’t a lot of mixed couples out here, y’know? I figured that maybe if she got to see that it can work—”

“Aha! So thoughtful, mi querida princesa.” Stillwater smiled and gave a little bow to Rarity. “Yes, as you can see, I am a unicorn, and my lovely wife is the most beautiful zebra in all the world.”

Rarity smiled. “How exactly did you two meet, if I might ask?”

Zyra gestured briefly over at Symphony. “We can thank Symphony for our meeting. When she was younger and showed a desire to become a royal guard, like Miss Gadget and Mister Crossfire before her, Her Majesty tasked me with instructing her.”

“I thought you said you were a priestess?” Rarity asked, eyebrow raised. “For a fertility goddess at that.”

“Indeed I was, but when I was young, I learned to use a blade. There are few zebra fillies that do so, but I took an interest and I was quite skilled.” Zyra shook her head. “But when I was older and I found that I was barren, I joined the Priestesshood of Layk, for that was my duty.”

Rarity frowned. “You’re barren, dear?”

Zyra nodded. “I am. I do not wish to share the whole story—it is painful to me—but I will say that the priestesses took me in, for their order is the place for all barren zebra mares. As we cannot bear foals ourselves, we made it our solemn duty to ensure that other mares do so. Our ways are old, yes, but I did enjoy my time with them.”

Stillwater kissed Zyra’s ear. “And I do not hold anything against mi encantadora esposa for her misfortune. We hold out hope that, before she is too old, perhaps the techno-magic will develop to help her.”

Zyra sighed. “At any rate, yes, I was Symphony’s instructor for a year at first. She learned to fight in the style of my kind.”

Stillwater rolled his eyes. “A brute’s style, you mean.”

Zyra nudged him. “Don’t you start.”

Rarity looked between the two, then grinned. “Ah, I see where this is going. Let me guess: Stillwater, you were her next instructor?”

“Sí señorita. Symphony’s father hired me to instruct her as he did not wish for Her Majesty’s royal guard to spend her time teaching his daughter how to fight in such an uncivilized manner.”

Zyra narrowed her eyes at him. “Are we going to have this argument again, right here? At least I wasn’t teaching her to fight like a delicate flower.”

Rarity frowned. “Oh dear, I hope I haven’t started something.”

Symphony nudged Rarity gently. “Don’t worry about it, they’re always like that. They just fundamentally disagree with each other’s styles. It’s like the only thing they ever argue about. Trust me, they’ll forget all about it by the time they get in bed.”

Stillwater snorted. “At any rate, I took over for training Symphony after that, and taught her to fight like a proper unicorn swordfighter: with grace and poise.”

“Hmph,” Zyra snorted. “And when he wasn’t looking, I taught her to fight like a true warrior: with strength and ferocity.” She looked to Rarity with a little grin. “Needless to say, he found out and confronted me about it.”

“We argued about the proper way to teach Symphony,” Stillwater said. His lip curled into a coy smirk. “We argued for hours, all through the night. It was a rather heated argument.”

“I was sore for the whole day afterwards,” Zyra said with a fond look in her eyes.

Symphony snickered. “They used swords at first.”

Rarity tilted her head. “At first?”

Zyra nodded. “It took a year or so of that before we realized we’d really stopped arguing and actually started talking to each other about things besides our fighting styles. Finding out more about one another than just how we swung our swords around, yes?”

Stillwater brushed a hoof through Zyra’s mane. “That’s when I realized I loved mi pequeño rufián. We were married the following year.”

Symphony nudged Rarity. “After that, the only ‘sword’ they were using was Master Stillwater’s, eh? Eh?”

Rarity blushed and giggled into her hoof. “Well, I’ve certainly heard of less interesting ways for a couple to begin a relationship.”

Symphony gave a contented sigh. “It’s so romantic. I’m still giddy that it’s thanks to me that these two ended up together. I mean, how awesome is it that I helped them get together and that I had two of the best sword instructors ever?”

Rarity smiled and looked between the loving couple. “Well, I’m very happy for you two. This whole situation certainly does inspire a little hope in me for the future.”

Bluebolt rose up from her seat. “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of your time Zyra, Stillwater. We’ll get out of your manes for now so you can enjoy the rest of your day off, huh?”

Stillwater cleared his throat. “Actually, don’t go just yet. Last night, when Symphony told me about her little sword problem—”

Symphony groaned. “Yeah yeah, I know.”

“—I spoke with Zyra and we came to an agreement of sorts, and we’d planned out a little surprise.” He gave a look to Symphony and grinned. “That’s why I asked you to come visit me today, actually, rather than just putting an order in for a new set of blades for you.”

“Huh?”

Zyra smiled. “This works out wonderfully. I was going to meet Stillwater and Symphony before dinner to take care of this, but we can do it right here and now, can’t we?”

Stillwater nodded. “I think it’ll be better this way, she can have her amigas here to witness it.”

Bluebolt raised an eyebrow. “Witness what?”

“A very special event, hmm?” Zyra said as she stepped back to her chair and grabbed the sword that was there. “There is no official ceremony or anything like that, but we still wanted to make it special.”

Stillwater turned to Symphony. “Symphony, my finest student, if you would kneel for us, please?”

Symphony tilted her head, then nodded and kneeled down, keeping an eye on the couple as they took positions in front of her. “Okay, Master, I’m getting really confused here. What’s going on?”

Stillwater seemingly ignored her, and drew the rapier at his side from its sheath with his magic. “Sweet Symphony, you have learned every lesson and fulfilled every task that I have set before you, and you have surpassed every expectation I have ever placed upon you. You are the finest student I have had the honor of instructing in more than twenty years.”

Zyra took up her longsword in her tail, and some of the runes glowed as she did so, somehow allowing her to grip the hilt firmly. “Sweet Symphony, you have endured every trial and pushed past every boundary I placed in your way, surpassing limits that have stalled many a zebra—and pony—in the past. You are the only student I have ever taken, but I am honored to have been your teacher.”

Stillwater tilted the hilt of his rapier towards Symphony, and his lips curled in a proud grin. “I will never know the joy of a finer student. I have reached my zenith as a master, and so now I must pass along my torch. There is one final task I must set before you, Sweet Symphony: take up my sword, and with it, master everything that you have learned. Strive to become a master in your own right.”

Zyra passed her sword gently to Stillwater, who took it in his magical field to offer it to Symphony as he was doing with his own. “I was never a knight, or a warrior, or even a soldier. This blade of mine is the only thing I have left from a dream I once had when I was very young. I can see nopony more worthy of taking up this blade from me and making a dream of her own. You are a zebra warrior, through and through, Sweet Symphony, and I am proud of you.”

Symphony eyed the two blades with wonder, looking between her two mentors for some sort of sign. All she got were sincere smiles. So, she lit up her horn, and she gripped onto the blades offered to her. As she did, Stillwater relaxed his magic, and the swords were now fully hers.

Symphony teared up a little. “I don’t know what to say.” She looked between then again. “Grazie… grazie mille.” She set the new rapier in her sheath at her side, where it slid in perfectly; she did the same for the new longsword in the sheath on her back, and it did just the same.

Then, she stepped forward and gave both of her mentors a big hug. They returned it with earnest.

“Still, ‘a zebra through and through’, mi amor?” Stillwater muttered. “She is much too graceful for a zebra warrior, thanks to what I have taught her.”

Zyra rolled her eyes. “Most of a proper swordfighter’s style is their posture and form, and she stands firm, like I taught her to.”

“I love you guys,” Symphony murmured.

Bluebolt sniffed loudly and wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m so proud of her. Oh my stars, I’m crying here, oh geez…”

Rarity smiled and nodded. “What a wonderful gesture from two wonderful creatures. I’m very happy for you, Symphony.”

Symphony pulled away from the hug and wiped her nose. “This is a lot to take in.”

Stillwater smiled. “Take it in however you like, Symphony. We’re very proud of the mare you’ve become, and wish you nothing but the best in your future. Buena suerte para ti.”

“I’ll think of you guys every time I use them,” Symphony said.

“I certainly hope so,” Zyra said with a grin. “Do us proud, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

Stillwater looked to Zyra. “Come on, mi amor. I got us dinner arrangements at that Romantique restaurant you like.”

Zyra clapped. “Ah, wonderful. I’ve been looking forward to it all week. Their crepes are heavenly.”

Rarity leapt up in realization. Dinnertime. “Oh! I’ve got a dinner arrangement to get to as well. Terribly sorry everypony, I simply must be going!”

“Wha— just like that?” Bluebolt asked, rising from her seat too.

“Yes, dear, just like that! It was a pleasure meeting you Zyra, Stillwater! Ta ta for now!”

With that, Rarity rushed past the rest of the group and out the door.

After all, it would never do to keep Queen Blackburn and King Lockwood waiting.

*****

Sundial was, in a word, tense. It was rare for her to be tense, but there was just something about being in the same room as Queen Blackburn that made it impossible to be relaxed, and this wasn’t exactly a normal room, either.

It was an interrogation room. Sundial was sure that a police station somewhere out there was missing theirs, because here it was. The too-clean walls and floor were a drab, lifeless gray. The stainless steel table and chairs were a drab, lifeless gray. The little lamp on the ceiling was a drab, lifeless… well, the light wasn’t gray, but the lamp itself was. The light was bright white and shined over her and Weaver—dressed in a casual jacket—as they sat on one side of the table.

On the other side of the table in the centermost chair was Queen Blackburn herself, staring right at Weaver in full-blown “royal” mode, as Bluebolt and Symphony called it, which meant that she was dissecting him with her eyes and analyzing every word that came out of his mouth. At least that’s how Bluebolt described it, and the look on Blackburn’s face certainly led Sundial to believe it.

To Blackburn’s left was Stellar Storm, the Chief Intelligence and Enforcement Officer of the city, who Sundial understood was in charge of handling any and all security threats here and abroad. The NPAF’s fleet going unnoticed was likely a blow to the mare’s ego.

To Blackburn’s right was Fleet Master Highwind, a purple pegasus stallion with a long, blond mane who wore an impressively decorated flight jacket. Sundial understood that he was in charge of every single airship in Hope’s Point’s fleet, civilian and military. Since the NPAF’s fleet seemed sizeable enough, it was appropriate to have him here as Hope’s Point’s fleet might just need to be called into action.

Blackburn leaned forward in her seat, her intense gaze still locked on Weaver. “First order of business: NPAF fleet’s capabilities. Elaborate.”

Weaver, to Sundial’s surprise, seemed utterly calm in Blackburn’s presence. “As noted, the Gargantuan-class cruisers were dismantled shortly after the last attack on your city, according to Overseer Pedigree. They were deemed too ‘clunky’, as you were able to maneuver around them in an ill-equipped cargo ship.”

Blackburn’s mouth curled in a little grin. “Ah, embarrassment. Appropriate response.”

“Instead, the NPAF began efforts on refitting the older cruiser models—Phoenix-class, Dragon-class, and Manticore-class—with improvements to cover their own weaknesses, namely firepower and armor, without sacrificing speed and maneuverability.”

Highwind scoffed. “You can’t just make sweeping adjustments to a ship’s entire frame like that and expect it to still work as intended. Adding more armor to the Phoenix-class would defeat the purpose of a lightly-armored deployment cruiser, for example, and the Manticore-class couldn’t hold more guns and still fly if it tried.”

“Correct. The older models were eventually scrapped as well. The new fleet is made up entirely of the new Pandemonium-class cruisers. They are smaller than the old Gargantuan-class, but come equipped with point-defense systems, heavy armor plating, and full AMP deployment capabilities. They are also operated by smaller crews to reduce the need for redundant systems like escape pods, life support, and intra-ship power.

“In addition, the targeting systems are fully-automated by AMP-based algorithms, increasing accuracy by seventeen percent. The ships are also completely unshielded, so there are no longer power generators needed for such a feature, making the ship lighter despite the heavy armor plating.”

“Takes the best of each of their designs and combines them,” Blackburn grunted. “Atypical solution for NPAF. Too neat, too smart. New leadership under Overseer Pedigree and this Conclave?”

Weaver shook his head. “Pedigree is part of the Conclave, but not in charge.”

“Then who is?” Storm asked.

Weaver shook his head. “I do not know. I am unaware of the other members’ identities. Pedigree oversaw the new Shadow Project, as well as weapon development.”

“Conclave consists of multiple ponies, working together to replace void created by Silvertongue,” Blackburn noted. “Shroud’s understanding was minimal, as he wiped her memory. Was able to work out some details, not enough to determine much here.”

“When do you think we can expect the attack?” Storm asked. “Our scouting systems haven’t detected movement from the north yet, but if these ships are as fast as you say, they’d be on top of us in half a day at the longest.

Weaver paused to consider this. “The thunderblizzards will finally let up around New Pandemonium tomorrow, I believe.”

“Give or take,” Blackburn said with a nod. “Sometimes difficult to predict.”

“So, my best estimate would be that they’d attack the day after. Their ships would need time to warm up after the winter cold, stock ammunition and fuel, and filter power from the conductive sleeves.”

Highwind grumbled and slammed his hoof on the table. “Damn! That’s not a lot of time to get things prepared at all. Most of the fleet is still in hibernation after the winter. We’ve only got the civilian and cargo ships up and ready right now.”

“How soon can you prepare?” Blackburn asked.

“If I push it, I can have the top-class ships ready by tomorrow morning. Regardless of how big this NPAF fleet is, though, it won’t be enough, not unless we stall them.”

Blackburn nodded. “Chief Engineer Forgehammer can have the shield online by tonight, already discussed with him. Strain of the new size might buy us three days by his estimate. New improvements in place to cycle shield frequencies, will prevent old disruption system from working.”

“I can work with three extra days, Your Majesty,” Highwind said with a salute. “I’ll triple-time everything. It’ll be rough, but I can get the entire fleet prepped and ready by then.”

“If we need to stall further,” Storm said, giving Weaver a curious look, “you say that these ships are mostly operated electronically with minimal living crew?”

“Correct,” Weaver said with a nod.

Storm smirked and leaned back in her seat. “Excellent. We might be able to buy extra time using some classic hacking procedures. If those ships operate using AMP-based systems, they shouldn’t function too much differently from a standard AMP Trooper. We’ve got kids around Dreamchaser’s age that can hack an AMP Trooper.”

“Might also be vulnerable to EMP-based weaponry,” Blackburn agreed. “None equipped on current fleet loadouts, will speak with Forgehammer on getting something whipped up.”

“I can have anything he preps added to the fleet before we deploy,” Highwind agreed.

Blackburn eased back in her seat slightly. “Attack could still go wrong, but plans in place to organize defense. City will not fall. Will still proceed with evacuation orders.” She turned to Storm. “Set city on mid-level alert tomorrow morning, advise citizens to prepare for evacuation at moment’s notice.”

Storm nodded. “Way ahead of you, Your Majesty, I put out a low-level alert this morning just in case. Folks are still walking around up there, but they’re mostly sticking to routes near the evacuation elevators and tunnels.”

“Excellent.” Blackburn turned back to Weaver. “Intelligence is useful, will possibly save thousands of lives.”

Weaver smiled and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty. In addition—”

“Ah, more?”

“Yes. The AMP loadouts have also been modified. AMP Troopers and Air Troopers are still the standard, but the new Scout model was deployed this year. They are lighter and faster than standard Air Troopers, but less armed and armored.”

“Hmm… shouldn’t pose a problem unless they manage to get through the shield, deploy ground forces. Still, interesting development.” She then paused and nodded. “Ah, they serve as a first wave of sorts?”

“Possibly. There might be some out in the Expanse now seeking out targets for the fleet. One was spotted at Goldridge and forced Tick Tock to move up the evacuation of the settlement because of it.”

“Interesting…” Blackburn then took a deep breath. “Have all the intelligence needed for repelling NPAF attack. However, last NPAF attack had trump card, unknown vector: the shadow pony known as ‘Shadowstep’. Powers were similar to yours. I am curious.”

Weaver adjusted his jaw. “Ask what you will.”

Sundial, who’d stayed silent this entire time, content to watch and listen, felt this was where she should jump into the conversation. “He’s got a lot o’ bad memories about that Shadow Project, aye? I know Bluebolt says ye get intense sometimes, Yer Majesty, but if ye could be gentle?”

Blackburn tilted her head at Sundial and paused a moment, and now Sundial felt that trademark “royal” treatment being directed her way, and she did not like it one bit.

“No promises,” Blackburn said at last, turning back to Weaver, “but will make an attempt. Weaver, explain this ‘Shadow Project’.”

Weaver leaned back in his seat. “The intention of the project was to create more ponies like Shadowstep, with his skill set, abilities, loyalty, and dedication. I don’t know much more than that, in that sense. We were manufactured in a laboratory, myself and all of the other ‘candidates’. After a few years, when our bodies could handle the strain, we were infused with ‘Darkness’, I believe is what it was called.”

“Remnants of Nihila’s magic,” Sundial explained. “I don’t know how they bloody well got their hooves on it, but the information we’ve got suggests that ta be the case, aye?”

“If we survived the infusion process, we were assigned a number—mine was Two-eighteen—and began combat training. This lasted for ten years. Then, we were sanctioned off into groups according to race—earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns—and forced to battle one another to survive. Then, the three survivors were pitting against one another. The final survivor then served under Overseer Pedigree directly for ‘field testing’.”

“Two-eighteen suggests you were not the first ‘batch’ of Shadow Project,” Blackburn murmured. “Implies second.”

“That’s correct, as far as I know. Shadowstep was not part of the first ‘batch’, either. He was a template.” Weaver remained silent for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words. “I don’t know anything about the first batch, only that they must have been unsatisfactory. I also don’t know anything about their ‘candidate’.”

“Timeline suggests you were infused shortly sometime around fall of Pandora Tower.”

“We’d been infused a month before the tower fell, actually.”

Blackburn hummed. “Interesting. Implies you were infused just before Twilight and her friends arrived. Tell me, did Silvertongue oversee this project at all?”

Weaver shook his head. “I do not know. If he did, it would have been the first batch, not the second. Overseer Pedigree holds him in high regard, however. Aspires to live up to his example.”

“And he’s not even bloody good at it,” Sundial scoffed. “Tick Tock said that no matter how much that Silvertongue twat avoided directly getting involved, when he did, he was dangerous and precise.”

Blackburn took a deep breath. “A master of distractions and accounting for eventualities that even I could not see. Example: planned far enough ahead to use a sleeper agent—Shroud—on a nearly impossible chance she would get involved. He covered every angle. Only defeated by one thing: the unknown.”

Sundial grunted and nodded. “Aye, Tick Tock said the only reason he lost in the end is he didn’t know about the Timekeepers having a ‘rewind’ emergency function. Truthfully I shouldn’t even be telling ye, but ye already know.” She turned to Storm and Highwind. “And everything said in this room is confidential, aye? Ye won’t go running yer yaps?”

Storm shook her head. “It’s my job to manage secrets and information, both learning more and keeping it out of others’ hooves.”

“I have no interest in that business, so I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Highwind said, nonchalant.

“Pedigree is no Silvertongue, from what I understand of the latter’s reputation,” Weaver said. “He plans meticulously, but does not account for every eventuality. He lacks situational awareness and is inflexible in his thinking.”

“Aye, and he’s also not as powerful, obviously,” Sundial added.

Blackburn nodded. “Quite. He also seems to lack Silvertongue’s ambition. He was a minion to Silvertongue before, behavior suggests he is still a minion now, but to whom? This Conclave? It is a mystery.” She leaned back in her seat again. “Does he possess any other strengths or skills?”

“Yes. He is quite intelligent in the matters of pony biology and in techno-magic development.”

“Hmm. And his whereabouts are still unknown—we have not spotted anypony matching his description in our territory. Likely returned to New Pandemonium to lick his wounds.”

“Aye, if he was lucky enough ta get there with that busted horn,” Sundial said with a smirk. “We did quite a number on him.”

Storm scoffed. “A unicorn with an injured horn can still be a highly capable threat, I’ll have you know. Techno-magic implants are advancing tremendously.”

Sundial bit her lip. “Och, sorry lass, I didn’t mean ta imply—”

“She’s teasing,” Blackburn said bluntly. She turned back to Weaver. “Nature of your powers, exactly? Shadowstep was an unknown, and it cost me the lives of two of the most important ponies in my life. I will not be surprised by it again.”

Weaver tilted his head. “I only have two abilities, understanding that Shadowstep himself possessed more. That’s part of why the first batch didn’t succeed: they were inferior. Overseer deemed my existence a failure as well but needed proper evidence to prove it… he was… correct.”

Sundial set a hoof on his shoulder. “Weaver, lad, ye’re not a failure, aye? You proved that ye’re better than he is. A better pony.”

Weaver nodded. “I have the capability to move through shadows undetected. So long as the shadows are connected to one another, it even allows me to travel up walls and ceilings. At night I can move practically freely. My vision is also unimpeded by darkness. It’s not quite like night vision, though it is similar.”

Blackburn hummed. “Hmm… may we have a demonstration?”

Weaver frowned. “A demonstration?”

“Yes.”

Weaver glanced at Sundial briefly, then nodded. He stepped out of his chair and backed into the shadows of the room where the light didn’t reach. The room’s occupants could all see the glint of light in his eyes. Until, suddenly, they couldn’t, as he’d totally disappeared. Storm and Highwind were noticeably unnerved; Blackburn remained stoic.

Then, Weaver reappeared behind Blackburn and tapped her briefly on the shoulder. Storm and Highwind, who realized he was there, nearly fell from their seats. Blackburn didn’t move an inch.

Finally, Weaver disappeared again, and reappeared in his original location before stepping back into the light.

“Yes, very interesting,” Blackburn said with a nod.

Sundial noticed Weaver was out of breath. “If I may... Your Majesty… are we... done here?” he panted.

Sundial rose from her seat. “Weaver? Are ye okay, lad?”

Weaver closed his eyes and nodded, though she noticed his whole body was shaking—no, shivering—as he leaned on the table. “I’m… fine.”

Blackburn frowned. “What’s the matter with him?”

“I… I don’t know,” Sundial said, leaning over to grasp Weaver’s shoulders. He was cold to the touch. “Och, what the bloody hell?”

Weaver shook his head. “It’s alright… I’m f-fine…”

“You’re bloody freezing, lad! What’s wrong with you?”

“This doesn’t usually happen?” Blackburn asked, rising from her seat.

“No! No it bloody doesn’t!” Sundial removed her coat and threw it over Weaver’s shoulders, then pulled him close to keep him warm. It was awkward to do, considering his height, but she did her best. “C’mon, lad, what’s wrong?”

“What’s the difference between now and when he normally uses his abilities?”

Sundial pondered this, then realized: “His uniform. He’s not wearing his uniform.”

Weaver nodded. “The shadows… sap my body heat. The uniform… prevents them from taking it.”

“Why didn’t ye bloody say that?! Why’d ye use that shite when ye knew—”

“Her Majesty asked…”

Blackburn held up a hoof when Sundial glared at her. “None of us knew, don’t give me that look.”

Weaver seemed to be breathing a bit better now—Sundial’s coat was rather warm, after all—and he took another short breath. “So… are we done?”

Blackburn paused for a long moment, looking between him and Sundial, then gave a slight nod. “Intelligence gleaned on NPAF attack, curiosity about you and your origins sated. You may leave.”

“My thanks… Your Majesty.”

Sundial grunted. “Och, lad, I’m gonna get ye someplace warm, aye? Maybe we should get ye something ta eat and drink while we’re at it.”

“That sounds… nice.”

*****

It was late at night when Sundial and Weaver returned to their room at the palace. Very late. Sundial was positive that everypony was asleep by now—maybe some ponies might still be up, but not many—and so she and Weaver tried to keep as quiet as they could as they walked through the palace halls, as if they were burglars.

Emphasis on “tried”.

It was next to impossible for the pair to keep quiet when they’d been drinking, and they’d certainly been drinking. Sundial had only been to Hope’s Point a few times during her career, and only twice since she was old enough to drink, but she knew well enough that the city had a bit of a reputation for its reverence for alcohol. Its citizens considered drinking with friends to be a cultural norm, and they did it to celebrate just about every occasion under the sun, even something as mundane as finding a few bits on the sidewalk.

Sundial and Weaver weren’t really celebrating anything, though, just having a good time, which was, itself, worth celebrating. She wasn’t surprised to find that Weaver had never been drinking before—she’d be more surprised if Pedigree ever let him so much as sip beer from a washcloth—nor was she surprised to find that he held his liquor fairly well for a first timer.

“Maybe I was bred for alcohol resistance?” he joked as he went round for round with her.

What she was surprised to find out was that he was a fun drunk, his face alight with a smile and a steady stream of humorous anecdotes spilling forth from his mouth. It was nice to have a drinking partner that could hold their own with her. They weren’t drunk, though, Sundial insisted on that. Weaver might be drunk, but her? She was shit-faced.

“Always use the proper terminology, aye?” she said, when absolutely nopony asked.

So the two giggled and laughed as they staggered their way up towards their room. Sundial was lucid enough to realize that there were still guards on duty, and though not a one of them paid the drunk pair a single bit of attention beyond what was expected in their capacity as guards, Sundial felt the need to indicate to every last one of them to keep quiet with a too-loud “shhh” and a hoof to her lips.

When the pair got up to their room, Sundial fumbled a bit with the keys before getting the door open and letting them inside. Their room was sizeable and comfortable with plenty of exotic and exciting decorations, perfect for any visiting foreign dignitaries. Naturally it was rather wasted on a drunk, surly Chronomancer and her drunk, less-surly companion.

Weaver stumbled over to the too-large bed and plopped down on his back, staring up at the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“I’ve watched ponies be ‘drunk’ before, but this is a truly unique experience,” he mumbled, a small smile on his face. “And you say the ponies here do this all the time?”

“Aye, it’s a tradition for them,” Sundial explained as she took a seat by a large desk in the corner. She removed her balmoral and set it on a nearby hat rack, then leaned back in her seat, tilting the chair onto its rear legs. “Bluebolt says they’ve been doing it since the city’s founding something like seventy years ago.”

“Bluebolt is not that old,” Weaver observed. “Or if she is, she looks very young for her age.”

“Would that make Symphony a granny-chaser?”

“Yes.”

Sundial laughed at the imagery in her head of an old, old Bluebolt hobbling about while Symphony gently helped her along, a loving smile plastered on her face. She tilted herself too far back in the chair and tumbled over onto the floor, where she immediately laughed again, harder this time.

“This was fun,” Sundial murmured, not lifting herself off the floor. “I don’t get much chance ta drink with somepony besides Tick Tock, and she can’t hold up like when she was younger. She doesn’t like ta do it much anymore, either, not since having kids.” She sighed. “I usually just drink alone.”

“You don’t drink with Bluebolt or Symphony?”

“No. They were too young most o’ the time I knew them, and they’re not exactly heavyweights, aye?” She chuckled. “So, this was fun.”

“Yes. This was… fun,” Weaver said with a smile. “This city is fun. I have seen and tried so many new things. I like it here.”

The two stayed quiet for a long moment, just focused on the ceiling, which was very interesting—not really—and enjoying the buzz in their heads.

“Weaver,” Sundial said suddenly, quietly.

“Yes?”

“What are ye planning on doing with yer life once we finish this whole job?”

Weaver paused. “What do you mean?”

Sundial propped herself just enough to look at him, though from here all she could see were his legs propped up on the bed. “I mean, ye said that ye wanted ta see this whole Beacon thing through with me, aye? Well, what about after that? Ye’ve got yerself a whole new life ta live, lad. What are ye going ta do with it?”

Weaver took a long time to reply. “Under the Overseer, I only got to see New Pandemonium and bits of the Expanse, and never for fun, just for his work. But I never got the opportunity to really… look. I had a task set before me and I completed it, and I did not let things distract me. Since I met you and Flurry, I have gotten to see things and experience new sensations.

“I know that there’s a vast world out there. I’ve only heard about some of it, but I’ve never seen any of it, not with my own eyes. Data and pictures and stories are one thing, but seeing it myself is something different. That’s what I want to do. I want to see the world.”

Sundial smiled and got up off the floor, then staggered over to the bed, laying down on her back next to Weaver. “It’s a good goal, lad. The world’s a lovely place when ye have the time ta look at it. Sometimes, when I’m out on a job, I like ta take a break for myself even if it’s just for a few minutes, aye? I like ta look at this world that I’m supposed ta protect.”

“What do you like to look at the most?”

Sundial considered this for a moment. “There’s a spot in the mountains south o’ Merchants’ Canyon. I had ta go there last year ta observe a roc that was nesting.”

“A roc?”

“Och, it’s a like a bloody huge, huge bird, aye?” Sundial said, gesturing with her hooves to demonstrate the size. “With razor-sharp talons and all that. Big as a bleeding house, it is. It was the first one ta be spotted in the wild for over four hundred years, so it was my job ta observe it, catalogue it, and report back ta HQ with my findings.”

Weaver paused. “Were you scared of it? A bird that big?”

“At first, aye, a wee bit,” Sundial admitted, curling up next to him to use like a body pillow; neither seemed to notice or care. “They’re dangerous beasts in most worlds. But ours was gentle. She had just hatched three chicks, and looked as docile and kind as I’ve ever seen a creature like that look.”

“That sounds nice.”

There was a slight pause as Weaver placed his hooves around her just a little, and Sundial realized she was belly-to-belly with him. It was sort of an awkward position, but she didn’t feel awkward to be there, really.

She shook her head. “Och, but I digress. There’s a spot in those mountains, highest natural point in the entire north. Reaches right up beneath the clouds, it does. But on a clear summer night, ye can see the stars as clear as day,” she added, gesturing to the ceiling with her wing. “Best spot in the north for stargazing.”

“I’ve never gone stargazing before.”

“Aye? Well, maybe I’ll take ye sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

Sundial relaxed slightly, letting her wings splay out onto the bed as she got comfortable. His hooves seemed to just absently rest at her sides, just under her wings. It felt nice. Safe.

Weaver stayed quiet for a long moment, then: “Sundial?”

“Aye?”

“When this job of ours is done, you know how I said I wanted to explore the world?”

“Aye, lad, ye did.”

He looked into her eyes. “Could I come with you?”

Sundial balked. “Ye… want ta come with me?”

“Your job takes you all over the world, doesn’t it?”

“Aye, it does, but, well, it’s still a job. It’s not quite proper exploring.”

“Yeah, but I’d be good at it, wouldn’t I? I mean, I was made to explore and observe. I’ve got to be somewhat decent at it.” He shook his head. “Besides, I’d rather do it with somepony else than go alone. I don’t know if I’m ready to be alone. Not yet…”

Sundial set her hoof on his cheek and grinned. “Ye won’t have ta be alone, Weaver, not as long as I’m here, aye?”

Weaver smiled. “Thank you. I really enjoy being with you, Sundial.”

Sundial paused for a long moment, considering everything in her head—shit-faced though she may be.

Then: “Take off yer clothes.”

Weaver raised an eyebrow. “Oh, are we going to sleep now?”

She smirked. “Not in the way ye’re thinking.”

Comments

[Ponygood11]

"Applejack seemed the type to give a hug rather than a handshake if she had the opportunity.”

Hands don't go on ponies! Silly.

[GanonFLCL]

10167913
Good catch!

[RoboRed]

Then: “Take off yer clothes.”

Weaver raised an eyebrow. “Oh, are we going to sleep now?”

She smirked. “Not in the way ye’re thinking.”

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