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Prologue1,402 words
Chapter 1: Gala3,401 words
Chapter 2: Gallant2,639 words
Chapter 3: Baltimare Smoker1,654 words
Chapter 4: Gallery2,305 words
Chapter 5: Breakout2,058 words
Chapter 6: Private Investigator2,342 words
Chapter 7: Threshing3,798 words
Chapter 8: Bloodied Masks2,730 words
Chapter 9: To Your Health3,686 words
Chapter 10: You're (in) Danger2,575 words
Chapter 11: Greetings3,413 words
Chapter 12: Help Him4,128 words
Chapter 13: Do or Die2,557 words
Chapter 14: Dear Auntie2,710 words
Chapter 15: The First Martyr3,428 words
Chapter 16: Alive1,896 words
Epilogue: The Witness2,164 words

Chapter 14: Dear Auntie

Blueblood flashed into his room, collapsing painfully on the soft bed with a cry of pain. Instantly, he felt blood spill onto his fur as the sudden action reopened his back wounds. He hissed with pain as he forced his horn to light through the disturbance, attempting to seal his wounds magically as best he could. Unfortunately, his skill with arcanic healing was not on par with what his other magics might have suggested. He only managed to summon a soft flesh bandage that helped to prevent the bleeding, but it didn’t actually do any healing.

With a pained exhale, he pushed himself onto his hooves. A spike of burning, insurmountable pain shot across his entire back, making him yell in pain. He remained, however, crouched over his bed as he seethed anger at himself. Why did he have to be so negligent to himself? He knew though, and it only made him angrier. Seeing that mare, the one that had been hovering besides Lily, and her wide golden eyes alight at the sight of him waking up from his unconsciousness, it set something unhealthy ablaze within him. As soon as he knew that pang of emotion, emotion connected to someone who was attempting to help the Blue Knight, Blueblood knew he had to leave.

Now he was paying a price for his own bigotry, unable to move from his painful, crouched stance, but not willing to allow himself to lay back down. Instead, he attempted to focus on his horn once again, summoning the last bit of his drained mana to pull the mask off his face. He gasped in a breath of fresh air as it came off, sweat making it stick slightly longer than he had wanted. For a brief moment, he wondered if either of the mares had actually peeked under his mask. He didn’t know for certain whether he could trust Lily’s word that they hadn’t taken a peek.

Perhaps it was why she was as angry as she had been, seeing that it was really that bastard Prince Blueblood beneath the mask, and not some charming, strong stallion. It did add up quite negatively against him, and new worry entered his head, the worry of what might be insinuated in the wrong circumstances that it was Prince Blueblood who was the Blue Knight and not vice versa. It was an unappealing thought, as it could prove to be not only his downfall, but the downfall of the Princesses, his dear aunts.

“I’m gonna hafta go find those mares, aren’t I,” he asked the pillow in front of him. His voice sounded surprisingly steady for how strained he felt physically, but it provided little comfort to him. I need to find some medicine or something, he thought as he felt the flesh he’d acquired artificially begin to fill slightly with leaking blood. Grimacing, he managed to force himself to turn completely, the urge to vomit overcoming him as he felt the pooling blood slosh slightly beneath his false flesh. Taking a deep breath, he took a singular step off his bed.

That proved to be too much, as exerting all of his weight on a singular hoof for the briefest moment caused him to collapse, though he thankfully remained on his bed when he did so. Still, the action elicited another pained hiss from him, which turned into a groan as he felt his unfounded flesh tear and leak the pool blood across his back anew. Realizing that he wouldn’t be able to get up for a while he wondered what would happen if any of the maid staff happened to intrude at the wrong moment. They were still on orders to remain out of his room without his express permission, right?

“Oh that’s not good,” Blueblood murmured to himself, his voice now sounding dangerously slurred. He was getting hazy, he realized. There wasn’t much time before he fell asleep, which wouldn’t be good either. Blood loss and pain. They were causing his body to… to… He was shutting down. His mind was entering shock too, most likely, and his thoughts were leaving him. He needed…. Something. Something to keep him awake.

“Awake equals alive,” he whispered. He laughed. “Life is an equation. Breathe multiplied by breath equals alive. Haha… I should... laugh more…”

His eyes had drifted shut. Now when had that happened? But why not? He was tired. Tired colts needed their naps. That’s what Auntie had always told him, just take a nap when you’re tired and grumpy. But he wasn’t grumpy. But he was tired. So just fall asleep. Fall asleep…

A sudden flash of dark blue light filled the room, a flurry of sparkling, shimmering essence scattering across Blueblood’s waning vision. He lifted his head slightly from its askance position, his vision blurry as he attempted to understand what exactly was happening. A dark figure, slender and beautiful, approached him quickly, horn alight and wings expanded as she immediately began to his wounded body.

“Sweet stars above, Blueblood,” Luna breathed as she took in his battered, bleeding bodice. Blueblood felt a warmth wash over his back as Luna’s expertise in healing mended his back, a sturdy reconstruction of not only his flesh, but also his damaged or destroyed muscles. “Where in the wide world of Equestria have you been! It’s been almost a day and we haven’t heard or seen anything of you!”

“I was caught up with something,” he muttered shamefully, regaining himself from the haziness of the pain and shock. For a brief second, he considered asking for water, his mouth dry, but he knew that as soon as he would ask, he was going to be chastised for not taking care of himself. Instead, he lay in abject silence as Luna swiftly worked his wounds away.

“I can’t believe it,” she whispered, though he knew it was meant for him to hear. There was shock in her voice, shock and sorrow. He frowned, a lump forming in his throat. “I… well, Celestia and I both had ordered the Guards to search anywhere and everywhere for you, but they couldn’t find you in or around the Castle. Where were you?”

“The waterfall,” he answered. “I went to it as soon as I realized I was on fire. I kind of… lost control of myself above it and fell in. I wasn’t able to stay conscious for very long, and I’m not sure how I made it to the bank, but it doesn’t matter. I was able to survive.”

“Yes, surviving is good,” Luna said, her hooves now pressing softly against his back, where he had previously been bleeding from. Now there was only firm flesh, though there was a stinging pain that remained from the sudden transfer of skin and muscle. As her hooves continued to test his back, she questioned, “Did you just wake up? Is that why you only appeared just now?”

“Somewhat,” he answered cryptically, not wanting to reveal too much. Feeling stronger thanks to Luna’s healing, he attempted to stand. It took a second, his legs shaky, his body remembering its torment over the last hours, but he was able to hold himself up once again, this time without pain.

As soon as he was solidly standing, Luna’s hooves removed themselves from his back, instead going to his face and holding onto his cheeks there. The alicorn forced him to look her in the eye, her concerned blue eyes scanning his face with worry before firmly meeting his gaze. They held the stare for several long seconds, reading each other’s eyes before Luna pulled him into a tight hug.

“I didn’t think you were alive,” Luna confessed, her voice cracking as Blueblood felt his own throat closing. “They captured a picture of you in the news, one of you flying off with your entire back on fire. You looked as if you were some sort of demon, and that’s what everypony believes you are now.”

“I could guess so much,” he muttered back with a choked voice. Now that survival wasn’t the main focus, he felt the emotions crashing through him once again, the fear, anger, sorrow, and pain of everything that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours. Tears overflowed his eyes as he murmured into his aunt’s coat, “I killed somepony, Luna. I watched myself vaporize him with my own magic, and I didn't stop. I didn’t even know his name. I simply killed him…”

Surprisingly, as he said that, he felt himself calming down, coming to terms with the action. He had killed somepony, and he was probably the first pony to kill another pony in decades, if not centuries. Taking a deep breath once again, he pressed his face into Luna’s coat, taking in her warmth and comfort. He needed to simply think for just a moment, to allow the events of the past few hours wash over him and see what they left afterwards. He was too tired now, too weak to care for the psychology of what he’d done. Blueblood was not the Blue Knight. He didn’t have to worry about his problems.

“Are you alright now,” Luna inquired softly. The dark blue alicorn pushed away from him just enough that she could be face to face with him, her eyes now firmly on his.

Sighing deeply, he turned his gaze away from his aunt, nodding as he told her, “I’m not quite sure. It may be apathetic of me to say this, but… I really don’t care too much that I killed that stallion. To put it simply, he was one of the reasons Canterlot was in danger, and had proven to be not only violent, but vengeful. He and the other one went after the mare that they got caught trying to rob after beating up several cops to escape. I would say that, seeing as we hadn’t securely arrested him, neutralizing him was the next best step I could take.”

Luna’s face fell as she listened to Blueblood, but instead of finding disgust or anger when he looked up, it was a more painful expression. Sympathy. Why would she be sympathetic towards him when he wasn’t the victim? His gaze dropped once more as he was pulled into yet another hug, this one softer as she stroked his mane. He felt like a little colt in her grasp, and in spite of only having met her a few months prior, Blueblood and his second aunt had become, in a way, more than that. Sometimes her worrying and open attitude around him felt motherly, as if he was her child that she needed to dote over. The attention and love that Luna gave him had spurred him in his efforts, and now the only thing he had to show for it was blood on his hooves.

That thought, the disappointment that it left, and the numerous others that plagued him when he looked down and saw his own blood on her mane, made him want to leave, to run away.

“Even heroes have to fall back onto the worst tactics when backed into a corner,” Luna reassured him. He knew she wanted to say something else, but whatever else it was she spared him from, her soft kindness taking over. They stayed like that for a while, perfectly still save for Luna’s hoof rhythmically stroking his mane, listening to each other’s breath. It wasn’t until Blueblood began sitting up, intending to thank Luna that she spoke again. “You know, when I was a much younger mare, back when we fought Sombra in the Terrible War, I killed more ponies than any other on our side of the war. At the time, I believed it to be the worst thing possible, that I could’ve killed so many of the ponies that walked under my moon. I was guilt-struck and couldn’t bring myself to lead our armies when war broke out once again between Sombra and Equestria.”

Luna seemed lost in her thoughts as she looked out his window, to where the sun was beginning to set. “It wasn’t until Celestia came into my room and dropped all formalities, talking to me as my older sister, that she finally convinced me to drop my guilt. She didn’t ask me to retake my post as a joint commander of the armies. The only thing she asked me to be was happy, to be able to understand that those I killed was a necessity, that while avoidable, had been made unavailable not by myself but because of them. She held me just like this, and told me of past generals, great generals who have been forgotten after eons. They had to kill as well, and they took every life to their heart, but not to their head, and it allowed them to value life and still win.

“When I retook my position as Commander-in-Chief of the Army beside my sister, I vowed over my place as an alicorn that I would not slay a single soul in the entire war. I fulfilled that goal not by hiding in a tent and ordering others to take my place, but by taking to the front lines and developing a new strategy for victory. I wouldn’t allow the enemy near me, but instead of using my weapons to fend them off or magic to burn them, I used my wings to soar above them and freeze them in my path, leaving them to be captured. A flying magic wielder was something none of our enemies had faced before, and sometimes the fearful sight of me bringing the night behind me was enough to induce a surrender.

“Thirty-five thousand soldiers would surrender to us, and my forces would only kill some hundreds,” Luna’s gaze once again returned to his, a gentle smile crossing her face. “It isn’t the physical might of your strength that should win you battles, but the mental integrity of your mind. There’s a lot less suffering on both sides when you allow yourself to walk down different paths than the easiest one. The longest, less traveled road leads to a whole new possibility.”

“The possibility of death, I might include,” Blueblood sourly interrupted. “Auntie, I know you’re trying to teach me something, but you have to know that it doesn’t matter. I’ve already killed one, and I know I have two more to deal with. If need be, I’ll kill them too, and I’ll do so guiltlessly. That may not be what you want to hear, but it’s my nature, and if digging myself a grave means safety for Canterlot, then I’ll gladly lose myself for thousands’ security.”

“Don’t you see the issue, then, the controversy of what you’ve just said,” Luna patiently questioned, her evergreen attempts to dissuade him from such thoughts dauntless. “By deciding to end the lives of ponies who haven’t yet killed, you paint yourself as the villain in Canterlot’s eyes, even if you attempt to do it for their own good. You might not care, but who will stand up to you when you are seen as the villain? What infinite circle of heroic villains will you create by your actions? Who will come to kill you as the perceived danger, and what will become of them and their challenger?”

Blueblood took a moment of pause to earnestly consider the mare’s words, a slow, thoughtful track of possibilities swiftly running through his brain. With a hardness to his voice, he summarized the firmest possibility to Luna, his eyes unable to meet her’s as he muttered, “Then I guess I must begin and end the cycle at once. If I am to generate a bloody, unending cycle of death by surviving the final encounter, I must not allow myself to survive it.”

For the first time, Luna’s face truly fell, an ashen tint to her blue luminosity haunting Blueblood as she hushly told him, “You might be the first pony in fifteen hundred years to propose the concept of suicide. This is just theoretical speculation… yes?”

Staring his aunt in the eyes once again, drawn to them by an unspoken worry, Blueblood knew there could be only one answer to her careful question. “Of course.”

Author's Note:

Sorry this took so long to get out, but the next chapter is here! I figured I'd get the chapter done early in anticipation for Thanksgiving Break, but then I got my nose cauterized, so I fell a few days behind. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcome!

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