Night's Favoured Child

by Municipal Engines

Awkward Questions

Chapter Ten:
Awkward Questions

Dear Twilight,

It’s good to hear from you. I hope you’re holding up over there. I know you can be pretty lonely surrounded by so many strangers. But if you’d get your head out of your books once in a while, they might not be strangers anymore, you know?

But I’m glad to hear you’re having fun, at least. Loch Mare keeps me busy, and I’m doing some odd jobs around the foster home, too. There’s not really any time for recreation, but I manage. Cobble’s also helping me with the jobs, and he’s been assigned my partner for the vocational training I’ve been on. He’s kind of a nice guy once you get to know him, as long as Blitz isn’t around. He really needs to learn to stand up to bullies, not yield to them.

It would be nice to see you again. Are we still on for that visit in a couple of weeks’ time? I can’t wait to hear all about what you’ve been learning from the Empress, and maybe you can fill me in on some of the stuff that’s happened around the palace. I bet you have some cool stories to tell.

Your friend,

Orion

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The throne room was alive with activity. Crowds of ponies gathered in swirling, ever-changing eddies, dressed in their best clothes and talking amongst themselves. The atrium echoed with noise and shone with moon- and mage-light. Atop the Obsidian Throne, its glassy surface polished to a shine, Empress Nightmare Moon gazed forlornly down on the crowds below. So high up on the monolithic throne, it was an island of perfect isolated security. Nopony would try to shout a conversation with her, so she was perfectly safe from actually having to interact with any of the sycophants in attendance.

Officials, nobles, ministers, and other wealthy or influential ponies flooded the room. They all dripped power, and all that power gathered in one place was stifling, even for Nightmare Moon. They talked politics while sipping delicately at wine offered on trays by dapper waiters. They smiled and chatted and played their little word games, all eager to see and to be seen. A choking fog of pride rose from the crowd, condensing and mixing with bitterness, paranoia, and knife-edged smiles to swamp the floor of the throne room in the noxious, stinking sludge of devious intentions that she would much rather keep her hooves out of.

A session of Parliament, Nightmare Moon mused, was a rather civil affair. Ponies addressed their fellows as “Right Honourable” and everypony generally held their tongues until called upon by the Speaker. Everypony had their say, and rarely did anypony interrupt. Of course the debates could get passionate and there were often jeers sent across the floor when a telling blow was struck, but it was all in good humour. Members of Parliament had the rules and regulations and common courtesy to keep things civilised. Parliament was good government. But this – Nightmare Moon fought the urge to sneer in disgust – this was different.

This was Open Court.

It was a messy forum where courtiers of all colours and stripes poured in to catch up on the latest news and talk about the government, their policies, and their rivals. It was a time for planning and conversation and show. The Empress could almost taste the plots being woven at that very moment. She scanned the room, trying to find three ponies that would doubtless be at the centre of it all.

She found Duke Blueblood surrounded by a herd of peers, a dashing smile on his face as he gestured expansively in the midst of some tale or other. All of his companions were nobles or gentry of some calibre, but even the minor lords held themselves with the same aloof arrogance and pomp as any duke or marquis. The lower a noble’s rank, it seemed, the more forceful they were in proclaiming that they were indeed highborn. Nobles like them, Nightmare Moon observed, often shot these looks that only a pony of aristocratic breeding could attempt. Most often directed at the common-blooded government officials, these looks said, “You might be well-off and well-dressed. You may feel safe and cosy and successful with your job, but remember: I am better than you no matter what you accomplish, always. It’s in my blood.”

These highborn lords and ladies hung on every word that escaped Blueblood’s lips. Though Nightmare Moon could not hear them, she knew that they laughed at all his jokes, responded well to all forms of small talks, and eagerly lapped up whatever schemes he laid bare. Blueblood himself remained dignified and casual; a paragon of the aristocratic attitude to his hangers-on. He was one of the few hard-line nobility she knew who did not constantly reek of pompousness. The Duke of Canterlot had nothing to prove, and everything to gain by comporting himself with grace and courtesy toward all. The well-groomed unicorn stallion certainly had his moments, but in court, he knew how to play almost everypony, from the lowest common official to the most powerful ponies in the Equestrian government. Which was probably why it was such fun to watch him squirm whenever one little low-born filly was concerned.

On the opposite side of the room were Marshall Silverstar and his colleagues. He was easy to spot, with his bushy sideburns and glorious moustache. The middle-aged earth pony stallion wore his parade sword at his side, neatly turned out in a military dress uniform. His colleagues all wore similar ceremonial uniforms; smart and plain, though nothing like what anypony on the field of battle would wear. As Nightmare Moon understood, the democratic franchise did not extend to everypony in the non-feudalistic Communes. Almost exclusively, it was members of the military who ran for office, being that those few civilians who had the opportunity or ability to run lacked the support or know-how to do so successfully. Silverstar chatted openly with the ponies around him. There was a refreshingly honest quality to the Marshall. When he wanted to say something, he said it, and he didn’t want to waste time and effort with the subtleties.

That wasn’t to say he was incapable of duplicity; indeed, he wielded his open honesty like a weapon. Where many of the court would lace their seemingly casual conversations with insults and messages that would go undetected by an untrained ear, Silverstar simply metered out precise measures of truth, like a battlefield commander arranging for the foe to see exactly what he wanted them to see. Once the unwary opponent had been drawn into a vulnerable position, he could negotiate their terms of surrender, or simply off them with a single deft stroke.

Nightmare Moon did not have to look far to find the last hub of activity, a certain fuchsia mare. Hierophant North Star was surrounded by a group of nobility and other officials, standing as close to the Obsidian Throne as possible without physically crowding the Honour Guard at its base. She had strategically placed herself so that she could face her Empress while she spoke with a small cluster of the faithful, the hopeful, and the ambitious. Occasionally, as she chatted, the mare’s eyes flicked up at Nightmare Moon. They twinkled with a foal-like adoration that seemed to shave half a decade off her already young age.

North Star had been appointed as an acolyte of the Cult at perhaps the same age Twilight was now, and had climbed the ranks of the Way ruthlessly and rapidly. Yet for all her ambition, the young mare seemed untouched by the lust for power that marked others in the court, however they tried to conceal it. She sought power as a means to an end, certainly, but Nightmare Moon had detected no hint that her devotion was anything but genuine. It was unfortunate that the power she seized was so often snatched from other powerful ponies who then had to be appeased.

North Star was passionate and full of energy, and she trained those qualities into tools for her own advancement until she stood above all but Nightmare Moon herself in the Cult. Her enthusiasm and spirit translated into a fiery charisma, and even as a mere Priestess she had found herself revered by many a rapt and loyal supporter.

Religion was still vitally important to many layponies, and as such, much power rested in the upper echelons of the Way; it owned thousands of acres of land across Equestria and swayed the proletariat and the bourgeoisie alike. But unlike more conservative ponies such as High Praise, North Star took full advantage of the Way’s influence. Her authority lay in the institutions under her oversight and the faithful she commanded. The ponies surrounding her listened to her words with keen, upright ears, as if each sentence that came from her lips was a deep philosophical insight into the inner workings of Harmony and the alicorns. If only her fawning were not so tiresome.

Nightmare Moon craned her neck over the side of her throne. There, snuggled up to the obsidian seat, Twilight sat on a cushion, reading quietly. The Empress managed a smile. Here this filly sat, so innocent and sweet, amidst a sea of perfidious, power-hungry ponies. She had no idea that conniving political machinations were being played out in the crowd before her. All she did was read her book, comforted by her closeness to Nightmare Moon while she waited for the petitions to begin.

‘Your Majesty.’ The voice of the Inquisitor rang in her mind. She turned to the smaller Chancery Throne to her left, looking down at her trusted vizier. He wore the garb of his public office tonight, rather than the Blackcloak uniform he so often sported. ‘I think it’s probably time you start accepting petitions from the public.’

The dragon-eyed alicorn nodded at his unspoken words and looked out over the throne room. Her horn glowed, bringing the platinum sceptre up from its place next to her throne. The shining, priceless thing had been dragged out of the Crown Jewels exhibit as it was for every Open Court and handed directly to the Empress for her use in passing judgment. In reality, it was little more than an oversized, overpriced gavel. Nightmare Moon banged it against the surface of her glassy dais. Three sharp cracks echoed throughout the atrium, suppressing all other noise. Eyes turned expectantly towards the Obsidian Throne.

“I declare this court open to all petitions,” Nightmare Moon said, clearly and proudly.

The Inquisitor added his own cool, regal voice to the proclamation. “Let every stallion and mare kneel before the Throne as an equal in the eyes of Her Majesty Nightmare Moon, Empress of Equestria, Queen of Canterlot, Blessed Daughter of the Stars.” His words were carefully scripted, although the exact details had changed significantly over the centuries. In the past, the already cumbersome formal declaration would have been several times longer.

The throng of ponies at once dropped to their knees in a single, swift motion. A beat late, a soft shuffling noise came from the side of the throne as Twilight scrambled to imitate the obeisance. Then, at Nightmare Moon’s lazy wave, they rose and quickly filed to the sides of the room, leaving an aisle in the middle free. A small group of ponies – Duke Blueblood, Marshall Silverstar and Hierophant North Star included – gathered around the Obsidian Throne, ready to offer quick counsel to the Empress during the petitions. Their voices were hushed, murmuring amongst themselves in impatient anticipation. The noise was at a tolerable level so far, but Nightmare Moon was well prepared to control the attendants if they became too loud. Indeed, she relished the opportunity to lash out at the courtiers whenever the opportunity presented itself. One of the perks of being Empress was the ability to berate and yell at the most powerful of people at the slightest provocation. It was rather cathartic, really.

The first of the petitioners arrived, ushered in by the guards. The earth pony mare carried herself with a low-ranking noble’s air of inflated self-importance, and her gorgeously-kempt blond mane topped a coat of the shining white that the nobility loved so. She held her gait elegantly, neither hurrying to attend the Empress nor quailing from her presence. Only the lack of a family sigil on her finery marked her as a wealthy commoner rather than an aristocrat. Of course this one would be first, Nightmare Moon thought cynically. It took quite a bit of pull or luck to have your case personally overseen by the Empress, and many of the ponies that would petition her that night had likely been waiting for weeks or months. However, the wealthy could often buy their way into the schedule – the Crown was always in need of money, after all.

The mare stopped a respectful distance from the Obsidian Throne and bowed deeply, pressing her head to the floor. Nightmare smiled to see one of the more privileged members of society humble herself so; the earth pony knew her place and respected the formality of the court.

“Rise,” she said to the mare. The earth pony did as she was told and faced her Empress with pride, but Nightmare Moon could see a hint of unease in her eyes which the mare didn’t allow to show in her stride. “State your name.”

“My name is Dainty Dove, Your Majesty,” she said. Her accent definitely marked her as hailing from the upper crust of Manehattan society, but Nightmare detected a faint tremor that suggested she was in fact assuming the cultivated (and rather nasal) manner of speech that the Equestrian elite favoured. Credit where credit is due, though, the Empress decided. She is imitating it very well.

“And what is your petition?”

“I own the Fillydelphia Cereal Company, Your Majesty,” Dainty began. “We produce over sixty percent of the Empire’s barley and almost fifteen percent of its wheat. The recent law change regarding the conservation of water and management of rain patterns has diverted productive potential from our fields due to environmental concerns. While these are wise and noble decisions on behalf of your government, they are affecting the nation’s supply and output of cereals.”

“And you wish for these laws to be overturned, or at least loosened, in order to regain your productivity.” The Empress raised a brow.

“Only at your leisure, of course. My company provides for all of Equestria, and for many of our allies. The FCC granaries feed millions of Equestrian citizens and the more we can produce, more ponies will be satisfied. Not only that, but our employees enjoy better pay if we are able to supply more to the market.”

Nightmare Moon gazed down at the mare as her mind ran. While she knew she was not as deceptively cunning or analytic or canny as some of her underlings, there was truly nothing new under the moon, and she had lifetimes of practice both at ruling and at following the political manoeuvers of ponies great and small. This mare could have arranged to meet with her privately, or with her ministers to try and gain special dispensation through Parliament. How did that old saying go? Fail in your meeting, go to Parliament; fail in Parliament, go to Court?

As it was, petitioning the Empress in Open Court probably was her best chance to see her request granted. The likelihood was that this mare was one of the many ponies she had overlooked when it came to arranging private audiences, and the other channels of government had probably failed her too. The court of the Empress offered many incentives for some people to try their luck before the Obsidian Throne. The presence of powerful witnesses placed a very real peer pressure on Nightmare Moon, and at least one of her advisers was often sympathetic to a petitioner’s cause and added their weight to it. The time constraint also worked in the supplicant’s favour. Much to the alicorn’s discomfort, she couldn’t drag out her decisions.

In the old nights, these factors could be ignored as she liked and decisions were made on a whim, without argument or appeal. Peer pressure and the considerations of government officials were not taken into account when she had revelled in the sheer intoxicating power of her alicornhood and the crown that came with it. Parliament hadn’t even existed until relatively recently. Now she had to be more careful and considerate, but neither did she have to enforce every edict with threats and terror. What was once an iron-hoofed rule of autocracy was now more elegant and bureaucratic. There were ponies that she had to rely upon, and their feelings and cooperation suddenly mattered. Somewhere along the line, Nightmare Moon realised, she had gone from a ruler being served by her nation to a ruler serving her nation.

‘She’s an ambitious one,’ the Inquisitor observed. ‘Dainty Dove is a prominent supporter of both the Duke of Canterlot and the Hierophant. In light of the recent decisions that may have… offended Blueblood, might I suggest we consider granting her request? It would be something of an olive branch to him.’

Nightmare Moon stifled a snort. “I remember the reason for those laws, Miss Dove. You are asking for me to overturn legislation that prevents the continued destabilisation of the Maresissippi for private benefits to a corporation?”

“I… I have charts and maps, Your Majesty.” On cue, a servant walked up to the Obsidian Throne and passed around several scrolls amongst the gathered advisers. Nightmare Moon unrolled her own copy and studied its contents. A complicated meteorological map swallowed the parchment, leaving room only for an even more complicated set of graphs. Such things were not her forte, but from what she could tell, fields owned by Dainty Dove’s Fillydelphia Cereal Company would benefit from an increased volume of rainfall. Unfortunately, it was clear that the Maresissippi drainage basin was also going to be receiving a dangerously large amount of rain as a result.

Nightmare Moon scowled in thought. If I do allow this new weather pattern, the long-term effects on the river and its watershed – not to mention the ponies living around it – could be catastrophic, and all for the benefit of this mare’s quarterly statement.

“Your Majesty, if I may?”

All eyes fell on Blueblood the Ninth. Nightmare Moon looked down at the foot of the Obsidian Throne where he stood, radiating confidence, staring up at her and waiting politely. She nodded her assent.

“The FCC is one Equestria’s top exporters in cereal goods. The extra revenue from corporation tax alone will be a great benefit to the government, and I am sure that Miss Dove will be more than willing to accept such a cost for the gracious gift of your blessing and assistance. The output of the economy is a boon to everypony, and we will be better off if we help our businesses.”

There was a short burst of support – the polite, but firm, tapping of hooves and a chorus of “aye” – from the crowd, mostly amongst the aristocracy; supporters of Blueblood, North Star and big business. Nightmare Moon sighed quietly, resigning herself to the decision. Surrounded by so many in favour of the idea, the Empress couldn’t do much to turn it down, even when sensibility dictated that meddling with the river could lead to disastrous consequences. The Inquisitor was right, she needed to give Blueblood something to be pleased about, and the Empire as a whole could perhaps reap some kind of reward from this plan, even if it was just a little extra money circulating around the economy.

The Empress looked down to Marshal Silverstar, who stood amongst the gathered advisors. He wore a thoughtful frown on his face, but was totally silent. Strange, Nightmare Moon thought, I would have thought he of all ponies would speak out against this. But despite the military stallion’s hatred of large corporations and oligopolies, he held his tongue. Nightmare Moon could list any number of reasons for his decision, but for simplicity’s sake, she decided to assume the pragmatic pony didn’t want to seem petty.

“Very well,” the Empress said at last. It seemed her government was almost unanimous on the issue. A shame really, she thought bitterly, my policies have been once again overturned in the interest of balance of power. “You shall have your rain. I expect to see this boon yield great prosperity for Equestria as a whole. And, mark my words, if I see the slightest possibility of a flood in the Maresissippi watershed, I am reinstating the legislation.”

The earth pony mare bowed low once more. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall make sure this is used for your empire’s benefit.”

Of course you will. Nightmare Moon prevented herself from rolling her eyes as Dainty Dove scurried away to be replaced by another. They all asked similarly self-interested things: boons, support, donations, even the odd audacious tax break. The Empress leapt on what opportunities she could, gleefully exercising her power whenever a particularly arrogant or annoying petitioner reared their head. Slapping down the self-righteous bourgeoisie felt so satisfying; the Empress occasionally entertained the idea of leading a revolution among the proletariat. It would all be worth it just to see the guillotine drop.

But as time went on, the wealthy upper-crust Equestrians who had enough pull to skip the wait had all made their requests and left with their answers. Now the common folk began to shuffle into the throne room to be heard. For the most part, their cases were just as petty as those of the higher classes. Bickering neighbours brought their territorial dispute directly to the Empress, who grew fed up enough to simply grab a provided map and draw a line down the middle. Half-and-half seemed very fair, but the looks of both the farmers’ faces told her they thought otherwise. Well, it was their own fault for failing to work it out themselves. If there was one good thing Nightmare Moon could say about the nobility, it was that they knew how to take “no” for an answer with aplomb.

Anyway, if neither felt that they had won, it must have been reasonably fair after all.

Requests for charity and justice were far more pleasant. She treated these as opportunities to show her empire that she cared for the common pony. An ancient stallion was one of those who came for charity. The old unicorn had a bushy grey beard and coat like the flesh of a peach, and his sparse, wiry grey mane and tail could have been used to scrub pots. He bowed his head reverently as he spoke.

“Your Majesty, I’m Fresh Air, and I run an orphanage out in the Western colonies. It’s all I really care about since my wife died and I retired,” he croaked. Age had dug its roots deep into his throat and made his voice creak like a dry branch. “Folk’re good to each other out there, but it’s a tough land. There’s wild beasts and sickness and plenty of disasters, so there’s always a few kids that end up orphaned with no kin to care for ‘em. We do the best we can – give them a place to stay and food to eat and make sure they go to school – but we don’t have much else. It ain’t the place for foals to grow up nicely.”

“What is it you desire?” the Empress asked.

“We’re strapped for funds just keepin’ food on their plates. If Your Majesty could find it in her heart to donate some money to the orphanage, we could builds some proper facilities for the foals: a playground, a games room or library, and some comfier beds or a better kitchen and the like.”

His request hung in the air as the obsidian alicorn mulled it over. She didn’t have the chance to think for very long, though, as her counsellors were quick to voice the pros and cons for her.

“Your Majesty, there’s a crisis developing with the griffons and the government cannot afford to waste its resources on long-term projects like this,” the Marshal declared. “I support making life on the frontier in the Wilds better, but funding this stallion’s community is a luxury that we can’t afford.”

The Duke nodded. “I must concur; the government is too far in debt to spend money on every pony who comes to court to try to tug at our heartstrings. It sets a bad precedent, and we are not everypony’s rich uncle, here to dole out a few bits every time the rent comes due.”

Her other advisors nodded their heads in agreement and murmured their opposition to the poor old stallion’s request. North Star remained silent and completely uninterested in the whole thing, but she was making an effort to at least look like it mattered to her. The Inquisitor had taken to completely ignoring the whole thing and instead was writing in a notebook that had appeared on his person out of thin air.

Nightmare Moon frowned. She couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed that her government had decided to sacrifice kindness and generosity for cold pragmatism. Although they made good points, she had been expecting at least one of her inner circle to voice some sort of support for the cause, even just to appear like a charitable soul. Were the others really that much of a bunch of yes-ponies that they agreed with everything the four major players said? The old stallion deflated as the group beneath the Obsidian Throne dismissed his request one by one.

Nightmare Moon looked to her right. All this talk of orphanages reminded her of Twilight Sparkle. The little filly had set her book down and looked piteously at the old stallion. Those big, shining eyes were filled with such sympathy for the peach unicorn who stood in the middle of the Imperial Palace throne room, waiting for his request to be denied. The alicorn felt her heart twist at seeing her student so heartbroken by the cold realities of court.

“Twilight Sparkle,” she said. The filly’s ears twitched and she turned to look up at the mare. “What do you think about this?”

The room went suddenly still as over a hundred socialites suppressed gasps of shock. If any had noticed the Empress’s student, they regarded her as nothing more than a mere ornament. But here she was, being asked for input by the Queen of the Night as if she was a member of the Privy Council. All eyes fell upon the little lavender unicorn, and she slowly cringed under the weight of their gazes.

“I… I…” Twilight stuttered, but couldn’t seem to make a complete sentence. Her ears folded back and beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

She’s freezing up! For fear of her student humiliating herself in front of the entire Equestrian Court the very first time she participated, Nightmare leaned down and added in a hushed voice, “Think of it as one of our hypotheticals.”

Twilight nodded and took a deep breath, drawing herself back up. She gave a cursory glance to the old stallion, and to the members of the Privy Council, and then stared downwards; her face fixed with the thoughtful expression that Nightmare Moon had seen dozens of times in their sessions together. It was after a moment or two of this that she looked back up to the Empress. Her eyes focussed solely on the alicorn, as if trying to will the rest of the room’s occupants into a simple blur at the periphery of her vision.

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t really be fair to give Mister Air some money but not other orphanages, and the government probably really doesn’t have enough money to buy new stuff for all of them. But it’s still not good to just brush him off,” the filly answered. Her voice was clear and her speech surprisingly mature. Twilight spoke with a thoughtfulness and sobriety that one would never expect to hear from an eight-year-old filly. “He represents a lot of foals who don’t have anything in their lives but each other and a kind guardian who’s doing his best to give them the kind of life they deserve. If we can’t buy the libraries, bedrooms, and playground equipment ourselves, then maybe we could make a charity for ponies to give money for those things, and make sure everypony knows about it? That would be just as good as if we gave Mister Air the money.”

Finished, Twilight blinked and scanned the room, absorbing all the staring faces and their myriad expressions. Her ears folded back again and she attempted to press herself into the Obsidian Throne in the vain hope it would hide her from all the attention. “Or something… just a suggestion…”

The Empress smiled. “A wise and creative suggestion, my student.” She turned to Fresh Air, who looked a little more hopeful than he had been a few minutes before. “The idea of a charity with my official blessing, established to better the lives of unfortunate foals in the Western Wilds appeals to me, and your orphanage shall be the first to benefit from it. I will make the first donation from my own private finances.”

The old stallion’s eyes widened and he bowed deeply. “Oh, thank you, Your Majesty! I’m forever in your debt!”

Murmurs drifted about the atrium. The Empress knew what it looked like to casual observers – her student’s idea chosen in favor of the advice of her actual advisors. Honestly though, they offered no solution that was even a little creative. They’ve become far too lazy. Simple “yes” and “no” answers highlighted how little some of her Privy Council thought of most of these petitions; there was no will to put the effort into thinking of a third solution. And, yes, perhaps she could say the same of herself. Luckily, Twilight’s idea gave the alicorn all the necessary precedent she needed to give the old stallion what she wanted without offending her counsellors by overruling their decisions – and she really could not afford to offend them just now.

Nightmare Moon shifted to a more regal, sombre expression, drowning her smile under a layer of formality. “Yes, yes,” she waved her hoof. “Bring in the next petitioner!”

And so they continued. Justice was as impartial as Nightmare Moon could allow herself to make it. There was a fine balance between sacrificing her own feelings on justice and sacrificing the good will and support of some elements of her government. Many of the disputes for the lower classes were challenging corporations, wealthy ponies, and the nobility over land, taxes, and legal transactions, among other things. As always, the wealthy and the highborn were linked to the gears that enabled her country to run. Despite her principles, Nightmare Moon found herself often ruling in favour of nobles, even if they were in the wrong. Powerful friends at court were, in many cases, the difference between having a request rejected or accepted.

There were also smaller, less important petitions; blessings of weddings and births, promises of town visits and ribbon-cuttings and invitations to events. A junior bureaucrat with a sombre tan coat and a shockingly pink mane had travelled from some tiny hamlet in the Heartland Valley to ask “whether it might please Your Majesty to grace the humble town of Ponyville with your presence for the Running of the Leaves festival?” The Empress’s answer was a quick glance at a slip of paper she pretended was her schedule and a polite “no”. It wasn’t that she hated attending public events – breaking the rut of royal life for a night was an opportunity she relished, in fact – but Nightmare Moon was never comfortable in ceremonies commemorating the autumn. There were too many memories.

By the time the village mare left, court had been going on for a couple of hours. Ponies were visibly growing weary, with their carefully held posture straining with fatigue. They could only stand around and observe and talk for so long until there was nothing left to do. Boredom was apparent in everyone; the Inquisitor had taken off his red cloak and loosened his collar, lounging on the Chancery Throne. Even Twilight had fallen asleep, leaning against Nightmare Moon’s seat with a book covering her face. The Empress quickly prodded her student awake with a magical touch.

“Bring in the final petitioner!” she commanded.

As it turned out, the final request was to be presented by two ponies rather than one. A pair of mares came before the throne and bowed low. Immediately the Queen of the Night could see the two were almost polar opposites, both in looks and in bearing. One was a pale brown unicorn sporting an unkempt mane the colour and texture of a bundle of straw. She stared at Nightmare Moon more directly than most nobles would have dared, a deadly serious expression in her neon-pink eyes. The Empress truly hoped she wouldn’t take it into her head to climb up the throne itself and give Nightmare Moon a piece of her mind.

Her earth pony companion, on the other hoof, seemed terrified to be there. She remained at in half-crouch after they finished their bow, huddled close to the straw-haired mare. Her eyes were as jittery as the other mare’s were confident, flicking around the room as if avoiding Nightmare Moon at all. She looked much softer than her counterpart, with a slightly fluffy jasmine coat and a wavy lavender mane that swirled down from the top of her head. The other mare touched her shoulder and she straightened up a little, visibly calming herself. Nightmare Moon smiled inwardly. Ah, young love. They had probably come to ask her to bless their upcoming wedding or some similar triviality, but the Empress found the way the shyer one gained confidence from her partner refreshing. It made her remember that beyond the walls of the palace, beyond all the cold, calculating politics and hateful bickering, was the loving country she worked to protect.

“What are your names?” she asked.

The yellow-maned unicorn spoke first. “My name’s Bright Light, and this is my wife, Petal.”

Not here for a wedding blessing, then, Nightmare Moon thought. “What is it you wish to ask of me, Miss Light?”

“Well, Your Majesty, Petal and I’ve been doing some thinking and… and we’ve decided we want to start a family. A little colt or filly to call our own, y’know?” She grinned, her nervousness finally starting to show.

The Empress gave her a faint grin. “I understand that is usually the way one starts a family, yes. Is there some difficulty with the adoption process?”

“Ah, no, Your Majesty,” Bright Light said. “We wanted the foal to be, well, ours.”

Cute couple or no, Nightmare Moon’s patience began to wear thin. “And you require my intervention because…?” she prompted.

“I-it’s just that we want our foal to be natural, Your Majesty,” Petal’s soft, unsure intervention moved the Empress’s questioning gaze to her. She blanched slightly at the attention before continuing her explanation. "We want the foal to be ours in spirit and blood. I'd... like to be the one to carry her, but we hoped that she could be Light's, too."

There were one or two faint gasps from the magical experts in the audience, but otherwise a long, perplexed silence followed. Petal drew back to the comfort of her wife, and they waited for the Empress to reply with increasing tension in their eyes. Obviously, their request had to be denied, but Nightmare wanted to let the couple down easy. They were simply ignorant in the law, and the dragon-eyed alicorn sympathised with them.

The Empress sat up straight and mustered as much passive authority as she could with which to augment her words. “Surely you know what you ask of me?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Bright Light answered with the utmost confidence. “We are asking you to help us make a baby with magic; so Petal can be pregnant with a foal that has a bit of both of us.”

“And do you know the law regarding such a thing?”

The unicorn blinked. “Uh… no, Your Majesty. I didn’t know there’s even a law for it.”

“Well, there is,” Nightmare Moon huffed and tried to remain patient. “It is many thousands of years old; enshrined by my ancestors and well-codified even by the time I came to the throne. I respect my ancestors, and I have framed this Empire around their tenets. One such tenet was that the artificial creation of life through magic was forever forbidden.”

“What?!” Bright Light’s jaw dropped. The Empress could see the hope dying in her eyes and she felt a pang of sympathy for the young mares, but she ground on regardless. “As a result, I will not grant you your request.” The words were said with a grim finality.

The more dainty of the two mares looked heartbroken. Tears welled up in her eyes and she let her head hang limp. The unicorn protectively pulled her close and glared at the Empress with an argumentative defiance that Nightmare Moon decided she did not like at all.

“Please, you have to reconsider,” she said. “We need this.”

“I am afraid that I have to refuse to break the laws of my ancestors to satisfy your desires.” Nightmare raised her brow and lowered her head in what she hoped would look like a gesture of sorrowful understanding. “You must understand.”

Bright Light gave a short, gruff sound that could have been mistaken for a cough. I really hope that was not a scoff, Nightmare Moon thought. I don’t want to have to get too firm with these two. “Your Majesty, please,” she begged, almost through gritted teeth. “That law must be thousands of years old. We don’t need it nowanights. I mean, sure the alicorns were wise and everything, but they didn’t live in the modern age. Surely some laws can be changed.”

The Empress frowned, her patience was stretched nearly to breaking point, but she vowed to try to see this argument through without putting the mare down too harshly. “It is not as simple as that. Laws so enshrined and sacred must be kept. I am sure adoption is not such a bad alternative.”

“But… you don’t… understand,” Bright Light said through clenched teeth. Her partner was looking on the situation with puffy, tear-filled eyes. “This is so important to us. We really need this foal thing. We don’t want somepony else’s foal, we want our own! Why can’t you bend the rules just this once? We’re only talking about one kid! One tiny favour…”

“Because there cannot be any room for favours or rule-bending or special cases,” the Queen of the Night snapped. She drew back and tried to compose herself; making her voice as level as she could while not sacrificing the imperial demeanour she had to maintain in court. “The magical creation of life is illegal for a reason. What is to stop ponies from using this to justify creating lifeforms of their own, without my supervision or that of any other responsible official? Everypony would like their children to be the smartest, the strongest, the fastest… but try to imagine the world where that magic is available to all. Our society would not survive. Moreover, what's to stop others from using the same magic to create monsters and even ponies born only to serve as their personal soldiers? It has happened before. Conflicts have been fuelled and exacerbated by such activities. I will not allow these precedents to be set just because you want a foal. I will not endanger this country for you. I am trying to be patient with you, but you fail to understand that I have refused your petition. My word is final, and the laws of my ancestors are absolute.”

As the echoes of her final words faded, the silence of the throne room was tarnished only by small murmurs and whispers from the crowds of officials. The Empress shot a quick glance to the Inquisitor, whose face betrayed a laid-back look of enjoyment at the unravelling situation. Damn him, she thought. Returning her eyes to the two mares, she found that Bright Light was staring at the floor with a frown in dejected contemplation. Petal had now drawn herself back up, tugging at her wife.

“Come on, Light,” she whispered; her voice carrying well in the chamber. “We should go.”

But the straw-maned mare refused to budge. She shrugged her lover’s hoof off her shoulder and took a step forward. Standing guard at the foot of the Obsidian Throne, Proud Song tensed in response. His posture only shifted a fraction, but Nightmare Moon noticed his wings were almost unfolded and he bent his knees – prepared to receive and repel a charge.

“No,” Bright Light growled. “It isn’t fair. If we were nobles or some rich, stuck-up banker, we’d be allowed this. If we’re able to get a child that’s really both of ours, then we should. Why should it be illegal just because a bunch of ponies got together thousands of years ago and said so? You don’t know what it’s like, to want a child that’s really yours, but you can never have it. Please!”

Nightmare Moon flinched at her words. They cut deeper than most would think. She knew that, in the eyes of the public, she was virtually sexless; eternal and beyond the desires and processes of mortal people. But that couldn’t be further from the truth, she thought despondently. Memories drifted through her mind like phantoms; her mother’s voice explaining to her that her generation would be the last of the alicorns, that she could never have a child of her own; finding out only much, much later how heavily that would weigh on her soul.

Old dreams rose from the dark corners of her heart, dreams of sustaining a child and bonding with it before it was even born. A flight of fancy, mockingly vivid, pictured a foal who shared her own coat colour and cheekbones, but in its eyes and muzzle lay a hint of Winter Storm. She blinked away the ghostly image as quickly as it appeared, but the lingering ache in her chest was far more difficult to banish.

The Empress of Equestria gritted her teeth. She sympathised with the two more than any in the throne room could, but there was a limit to her tolerance for the audacity of mortals in the face of their ruler. She drew herself up, a deep frown marring her features. “Begone, mare, before I have the guards drag you out! Do not come back again!”

The brown-coated mare looked as if she had been kicked in the stomach. In her eyes, Nightmare could see that the finality of her rejection was fully realised at last; bitter tears began to collect in them. Under her breath, Bright Light muttered.

“You monster.”

In the lofty atrium, her whisper carried and echoed, reaching the ears of Nightmare Moon. The alicorn’s eyes flared a bright, wrathful white and clouds swirled into being to darken the sky beyond the stained-glass windows. She shot to her hooves, wings spreading wide as lightning crashed and roared above the castle. The gathered ponies shared a collective jolt, and Petal’s eyes went as wide as saucers. Even somepony as brash as Bright Light was cowed by the rage of their ruler.

“You dare?!” Nightmare Moon boomed over the fading rolls of thunder. “You dare insult your Empress? Guards, take her out of my sight and place her in a cell."

Two guards stepped forward to grab the cowering mare, whose eyes darted desperately to her lover, who stood petrified with fear. “No, wait…” Nightmare Moon’s furious snarl turn to a smile as cold as the crescent moon. “Take that one.” She pointed to Petal.

Bright Light leapt towards Petal, but Proud Song was there ahead of her. He tackled her to the ground and held her pinned while the guards grabbed the earth pony, who only then seemed to realise what was happening and shrieked her wife’s name.

“Petal!” Bright Light cried from beneath the thestral, struggling in spite of Proud Song's iron grip.

“Brigh–!” Petal’s cry was cut off by the echoing boom of the throne room doors.

The mare was taken out, and a deadly silence was left, filled only by the shuffling of hooves and the odd faint cough. Nightmare Moon turned to the Inquisitor, who only offered a simple, amused smile. She huffed and then, all of a sudden, remembered Twilight.

She looked to her right and saw the filly. Like much of the room, she too was taken by surprise at Nightmare Moon’s bout of rage. But, seeing her young student shivering and cowering was strangely unpleasant for the alicorn – more unpleasant than she would have first thought. And she saw in the eyes of Twilight Sparkle something that made her heart drop. She saw fear. Turning to the hundreds of staring faces in the room, she held her face as rigid and imperially indifferent as she could.

“Court is adjourned,” the Empress announced, stepping down off of the Obsidian Throne, looking back to her student. “Come, Twilight.”

The little lavender unicorn followed her, reluctantly and timidly, as she made her way along the red carpet in a bee-line for the exit. The crowds would merge and ponies would once again mingle, likely this time to gossip about her outburst and actions like schoolchildren. But Nightmare Moon did not care. She just wanted to pour herself a strong drink and relax. Passing through those massive arches of the doorway, the Empress walked determinedly on down the halls of the palace, a dark cloud hanging over her head.

============

Twilight trailed just behind the Empress with the nervous air of a prisoner about to be thrown to the lions. She felt the worm of anxiety wriggling its way through her innards and curling up into an uncomfortable weight in her gut. She dared only a few brief glances at the great black alicorn before planting them safely on the floor once again.

A dark cloud hung over Nightmare Moon’s head. She walked with no grace or gaiety or even her practiced, regal confidence. She stalked. The Empress was too proud and controlled to show any more overt signs of anger after the incident had passed, but Twilight could feel the fury radiating off of her like heat from a pot fresh off the stove. Nightmare Moon kept her eyes front and her face absolutely rigid.

The Honour Guards at the entrance to the Royal Apartments hastily opened the doors as the Queen of the Night and her student approached. Nightmare Moon made a beeline for Twilight’s room, where she commanded in a voice that seethed with pressurized frustration, “Stay here.”

Twilight obeyed silently, and the alicorn left the room without another word. The filly realised that she had, until now, never actually seen her teacher get angry. A little frustrated or annoyed perhaps, but what she had taken for anger was a mere flicker of exasperation. The mood lingered, smokelike, in the air even with Nightmare Moon’s departure. Twilight retreated to the dubious safety of her bed, wondering how long she had to stay put. Until she says otherwise, I guess. Was this the extent of her temper, or had the Empress let loose only a fraction of her rage on the two mares? Did Nightmare Moon get that angry often, or was this a unique incident?

These questions buzzed around Twilight’s inquisitive mind, but she had only a few minutes to muse before the click of the door latch startled her out of her contemplation and Nightmare Moon let herself in. Wrapped in shimmering purple light, a half-empty wineglass and its accompanying bottle floated next to the alicorn. Appearing to have calmed down, she gave Twilight an attempt of a comforting smile, although the tense edges of her lips belied her.

Drifting over to a pair of large cushions by the window, Nightmare Moon sighed as if she had been on her hooves all day long and waved Twilight over to join her. The filly watched her cautiously for a moment longer, then slid off the bed and sank down on the second cushion. “How did you find your first experience of court?” The Empress asked in a carefully calm tone.

“Oh, it was… all right, I guess,” Twilight managed a nervous smile before the silence sloshed back into the room like the dark wine that Nightmare Moon poured into her glass. Then Twilight screwed up her courage and asked, “Empress, are you… okay?”

The alicorn’s smile wavered for a moment, then finally vanished in a heavy sigh. The change was instantaneous; Nightmare Moon’s shoulders sagged with the weight of a millennium of troubles and her neck bowed as if her crown were the greatest burden of all. Though physically she was beautiful and young, in that moment her face held every last year of her age. “It is a silly thing, Twilight. I shouldn’t be affected by it.”

The filly persisted staring her down with searching eyes. Eventually, Nightmare Moon relented and let out another sigh.

“I have given so much to the building of this country. I have tried to make it work and I have tried to be a good ruler to… to make up for my mistakes in the past. But sometimes I think that, no matter what, nothing will change. I will continue to hurt my little ponies and they will continue to misunderstand this country and what must be done and I try to make them understand. I try to protect them and I try to make them love me, but it seems that I will always end up a tyrant.” She drained her glass and filled it once again.

Twilight’s eyes widened with shock at what she was hearing. The Empress of Equestria, seemingly so perfect and confident and… divine, was actually doubting herself! The filly struggled to somehow fit this tired, conflicted mare into the regal, wise, and powerful Empress she thought she knew. It just… didn’t fit! Twilight tried with all her might to understand her mentor’s feelings, but she simply couldn’t grasp why a couple of mares should upset the Empress so.

“You’re not a tyrant, Your Majesty,” the filly said. “That mare was trying to break the law, and she was so rude to you. She should’ve expected to be punished going on like that, but…”

The teacher raised a brow. “But?”

“Did you have to throw Miss Petal in jail because of what her wife did? Shouldn’t Bright Light be punished instead of her?” Twilight cringed reflexively at the memory. “It’s a little… cruel.”

The Empress chuckled softly, a mischievous smile stretched across her tired face. Her student frowned in confusion, but she just shook her head in response. “Don’t worry, Twilight. She will not stay in the dungeon for long. In a few hours, I will have her brought up to a palace suite; much nicer than a cell, wouldn’t you say?”

“Why didn’t you just imprison Bright Light instead? That would have been easier… and fairer.”

“I think it will make Miss Light seriously consider her deplorable attitude in the future,” Nightmare Moon said, now losing her smile and mirth. “I know her type. She now has real incentive to change her attitude, and she will have a pleasant surprise when she learns I am not so heartless as she thought. If I had simply thrown her in the dungeons to rot, it would have made her stubborn and rebellious; it would confirm my status as a tyrant in her eyes.”

Twilight stood up and walked over to a bookshelf, staring up at it with searching eyes. When she found what she was looking for, the unicorn pulled a volume off the shelf and resumed her place in front of the Empress. She showed the book to her teacher – Aristrotle’s Politics – and opened it up, following the index to the desired page. “Aristrotle says that ‘A tyrant has no regard to any public interest, except as conducive to their private ends; their aim is pleasure’. But that doesn't fit you at all! A tyrant doesn’t pay attention to the law, but you tried to follow the laws the alicorns made and explain them to those mares, too. And before all that, you did your best to help the ponies who came to you with problems!” The little lavender filly gave the alicorn an encouraging smile. “You’re not a tyrant, Your Majesty.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Nightmare Moon said, though her tone remained gloomy. “Maybe I’m not exactly tyrannical, but there have still been many mistakes I have made over the centuries and they have a way of coming back to haunt me. Habits made long ago are hard to break no matter how hard you try, and they leave a lasting impression in the minds of the populace.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked.

“Do you remember when I told you about the early history of the Empire?” The filly nodded her head, and the mare continued. “Back then, in the past, I was… tyrannical. I realise that, now that I can evaluate my past actions with a clearer head. I did not often rule with others in mind. I did many things that have ensured that everypony will look on me with fear forever. Most fear for their safety when they speak to me, for they still think I would have them exe… taken care of if they insult me. That rambunctious mare tonight was the foolishly brave exception, it seems.”

“But Empress, ponies don’t fear you!” Twilight said, batting away the pang of guilt at what she knew was a bold-faced lie. “You should see how much Moondancer and her friends love the whole idea of royalty. They were thrilled when they heard I was going to be your student!”

“Little fillies impressed by royalty and princesses are a bit different from my subjects looking on me with love, but I appreciate your optimism.” Nightmare Moon gave Twilight a thankful smile. “No, there are many who look back on history and see me as a singular, near-transcendent ruler. This kind of ruler must be feared, or at least avoided as much as possible. I guess I am afraid of slipping up and repeating the mistakes of my past, and that the fear of my subjects will be the catalyst of such folly.”

“But you won’t,” Twilight frowned, firm and unwavering. A combination of innocence and adoration of the Empress stripped her of any nervousness she had previously been feeling. “You can’t possibly be a tyrant or whatever bad thing you think you were before. I’ve seen how nice you can be, and I know that you really just want to help people.”

Nightmare Moon’s smile grew ever larger. “Your faith in me is heartening, Twilight. It is good to know I can always turn to you for comfort whenever I need it.”

The filly blushed at the comment. Such high praise and confidence from her tutor, the Empress of Equestria, was something she could only have dreamed of a few months ago. But then, the small voice of doubt began feeding her questions in her moment of elation. Was she really that confident of her teacher’s mercy and kindness? What would it take for her to switch to the terrible tyrant that some of those back at the orphanage whispered about? Had she not just seen her throw a mare in prison for speaking out of turn?

Twilight blinked, struggling to rid herself of those doubts, but they continued despite her efforts. Why am I still so nervous around Nightmare Moon, the voice of doubt asked her, if she’s supposed to be a kind ruler? As Twilight searched for a satisfactory answer, the alicorn spoke again.

“While we are on the subject of ruling by fear, I have heard some disturbing things about your behaviour recently.” Nightmare Moon’s smile dropped to the doleful grimace of a judge. “I wanted to speak to you about it, but I haven’t had the opportunity until now.”

The filly shrank away from Nightmare Moon as the Empress raised her long, graceful neck to its full height. The vulnerable mare had vanished once more, cloaked behind the mantle of authority.

As the silence stretched, Twilight realized she was expected to respond. She swallowed her anxiety and squeaked, “What about my behaviour, Your Majesty?” A dozen different things that she could have done to offend the ruler of Equestria crossed her mind. Oh no! What if she knows I stole her key and snuck into the Hesperidium? A new fear for her life at the castle gripped her. Pounding against her ribcage, her heart launched itself into overdrive.

“One of the guards told me you tried to use your position as my student to gain entry to the forbidden magic vaults yesternight,” Nightmare said. “It was disconcerting to hear that you tried to pressure him into letting you through, though thankfully he was wise enough to bar you from entry.” The alicorn paused for effect, looking down at Twilight with an impassive expression that made the filly feel as though the noose was tightening around her neck. “I was then curious as to whether you had behaved as such before, so I looked into it. I was surprised to find that you apparently accosted a little filly in the hallway and destroyed her tiara. According to her, you said that should she tell anypony, you would lie and have her thrown in the dungeon. Is this true?”

Options ran through Twilight’s mind. She could lie, or deflect the question, or anything else that might get her out of trouble. But in the face of those piercing draconic eyes, pinned in place by an unflinching gaze as stern as any mother’s, the little unicorn found she couldn’t say anything else but, “Yes.”

Her head hung low in shame as the impassive face of Nightmare Moon settled into a look of disappointment. Somehow, to Twilight, it was worse than any burst of anger. “Twilight,” the alicorn sighed sternly. “I would have thought you of all ponies would not fall prey to such thinking. Why in Equestria would you want to use your position to bully ponies into giving you what you want?”

Twilight’s ears flattened. “I’m sorry.”

“You are only sorry because you were caught,” Nightmare Moon frowned. “This isn’t the behaviour I expected from my personal student. The abuse of power is a serious thing, Twilight. You cannot use your position to blackmail and threaten those below you.”

“But… but…” But you do it, was what Twilight was about to say. Instead, she bit back her words and swallowed, taking time to think before responding. “I only did that to the filly because she was being horrid to me because I was a commoner and she was a noble. I just wanted to teach her a lesson…”

“And what lesson is that? That she should turn her attentions on somepony else instead? That she should use her own position in the same way? Why didn’t you just tell me about it so I could have had a word with her father? Why did you break her tiara and terrorise her?”

Twilight felt sweat beads starting to form on her forehead. “I… I thought she would learn a lesson that way, I just… I didn’t really think. I just reacted and I thought I could make it sink in because I was so… because I’m your protégée.”

“We both know that because you are close to me, you have a position of power in the eyes of others. That power gives you the opportunity to abuse it. Remember Aristrotle: ‘A tyrant has no regard to any public interest, except as conducive to their private ends; their aim is pleasure’. You didn’t decide to bully her out of some sense of the greater good; you did it because it served you privately. Because it made you feel good. You have the responsibility to wield your influence with care. I learned this from my own mistakes a long time ago, and I still struggle to act as I should. If you continue to use your position to take power over others, it will lead down a very slippery slope. You will end up doing things that you once would have never even considered, not because you think you can justify them – though you might try – but just because you can. And one night, you will realize that you have done something that can never be undone. Power can corrupt, my little pony, and I would not see you end up like that.”

“I…” Twilight closed her mouth and hung her head. “Yes, Your Majesty. I’m so sorry.”

“There may come a time when you will be able to make decisions affecting others and pass judgement on ponies, but that night is a long way away. Even then, I expect you to make such decisions with morals and the law in mind. Even if ponies may seem to deserve it, you must not stoop to the abuse of your position to satisfy whatever sense of revenge or justice you may have. Do you understand me, Twilight?”

The filly nodded her head slowly. “Yes, Your Majesty. I won’t do it again.”

“Your heart may be in the right place, but it can be easy to slip without thinking about it. Mind yourself, my faithful student.” Nightmare Moon shifted from her previous stern, judgemental demeanour to the more relaxed, maternal composure Twilight so often saw in the alicorn during their lessons. “I suppose that we should find a punishment to suit your misconduct.” Twilight gave a solemn, subservient nod. “I am willing to hold off assigning you a punishment until after your scheduled playdate. I know how lonely you can get in the palace, and you do not need the consequences of your actions interfering in healthy social development. Perhaps, for the time being, it would be best to apologise to that filly and replace what you destroyed.”

Twilight nodded and shifted uneasily. Though her tutor had relaxed, now sipping on her wineglass lazily and staring out the window at the stars above, the filly still felt the sting of the scolding. It tarnished the lax atmosphere that now settled and she desperately wanted to wash it away with new conversation.

Following her teacher’s gaze into the heavens, Twilight looked at the stars and found herself remembering Miss Loch’s words that each star was an alicorn that had ascended and left this mortal world for the next plane of being. “Which ones are your family?” she asked, innocently.

Nightmare Moon looked as if the suddenness of the question was a slap to the face. She jolted and tore her gaze from the sky, planting wide, shocked eyes firmly on the little lavender unicorn. Twilight returned her confused frown with a sheepish grin. “Excuse me?” Nightmare said.

“Um… I asked which of those stars up there are your family?” Cowed by the Empress’s reaction, Twilight shrunk back a touch.

A few seconds went by until, all of a sudden, Nightmare Moon burst into light, dignified laughter. It was Twilight’s turn to be confused, forgetting her anxiety in favour of befuddlement.

“Oh, Twilight,” the alicorn said as her chuckles subsided. “The stars aren’t actually alicorns. They do not hang up there in the sky to watch over us. Is that what most ponies think nowanights?”

“But, then why are they so important? Why do ponies think they’re alicorns?” Twilight asked eagerly.

“The stars are tied to alicorns… well, not just alicorns; all Immortals, actually. Immortals are beings of immense power, and such power is drawn from both our mortal plane and the Supreme Plane. When they–”

“Wait! What’s the Supreme Plane?”

Nightmare Moon huffed. “Do you want me to tell you about the alicorns and the stars, or do you want to go into subjects that you will not be taught at the Academy for a few years yet? I am quite willing to teach you about both, but not all at once.”

“Oh,” Twilight blushed. “Uh, then can you please go on about the stars?”

“Certainly,” the Empress nodded. “Briefly, the Supreme plane is the metaphysical, spiritual realm that the physical, mortal realm overlays. It is the universal bedrock; a foundation of our world, if you will. Now, as Immortals draw energy from both the Supreme Plane and the mortal realm, they store it within themselves in vast quantities. When they ascend to the next plane of existence, into the afterlife, they must use up much of their energy to achieve this feat, and they shed their bodily form. The stars are giant spheres of energy, light and fire; the result of this release of power. If you will, they are the leftovers of the soul as it sheds its mortal layer, like a snake.”

“So when we refer to the stars, it’s like a… a metaphor for the alicorns?” the filly concluded.

Nightmare Moon bobbed her head lightly. “Precisely. They are more like tombstones, if you will, though the Immortals live still in the next world.” She turned to the window and pointed a silver-shod hoof at a small constellation in the middle of the sky. “Those stars are what is left of my family. My mother and father: Theia and Hyperion, and my grandparents: Erebus and Nyx – although I called my grandmother ‘Nana’,” the alicorn smiled nostalgically. “Nana Nyx. I used to love her visits when I was little; she was so sweet and wise in her old age. My grandfather used to tell me stories about the war with Cheimon, which were always fascinating.”

Twilight perked up, her ears twitching at the name. Cheimon… the alicorn Proud Song told me about. “What were the stories like? What did your grandfather say?”

The Empress tapped her chin with her hoof thoughtfully. “Well, he did tell me about how he fought what he liked to call ‘pseudo-Immortals’; creatures that Cheimon gave power in such quantities that they could hold their own against an alicorn. The war itself lasted for decades and stretched all over the world.”

“Did he ever talk about Cheimon? Did he fight him?” The little unicorn’s eyes were lit with rapt fascination.

“Not much, no,” Nightmare Moon shook her head. “What I do know is that Cheimon was supposedly an adopted cousin of my grandfather’s and he probably fought him directly at one point but…” She snorted. “He never really talked about Cheimon, only his armies and the war. I guess the betrayal was too much for him.”

“Captain Proud Song worships him. He says he’s a good alicorn,” Twilight frowned. “If he’s so evil, why do ponies worship him?”

“Well, Twilight, Proud Song is entitled to his beliefs, just as anypony is, as long as it doesn't get in the way of his duty to the Empire. The thestral and other Cheimon-worshippers are just as productive and loyal as any other citizen. I do not judge them for their beliefs; after all, I do not know whether their god was truly as evil as evil can be, or simply misled, or very angry. Without knowing the entire situation, we can only guess. But it was a long time ago, and it matters little now,” Nightmare Moon shrugged indifferently.

“Do you know what happened to him? Is he dead?”

The Empress pointed to the moon. “According to my grandfather, the alicorns sealed him up there, in the moon, after they finally defeated him. He will never harm anypony again.”

Twilight nodded and stared at the shining face of the Bright Moon in cautious wonder. She could make out the dark markings in the shape of a horned pony on it. It didn’t seem real that there could be anypony up there, all alone. Could they stare down on the world from up in that celestial prison? Her eyes drifted over to Nightmare Moon’s familial constellation. “Did you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked.

The filly barely noticed the flinch her teacher gave. Closing her eyes, Nightmare Moon sighed. “No, no siblings… a cousin, but I don’t know which one was hers.”

Twilight kept on staring. The sky was filled with what was left of gods and rulers; the final testimony of the most powerful beings in history. She wondered how many there were, although counting the number of stars in the sky seemed a never-ending task. They’re all so old, she realised. Immortals could live forever, but it seemed that most of them preferred to leave this world for the numerous heavens. Why did they leave if they could stay on Earth forever? Twilight wondered. When she voiced her question to Nightmare Moon, the alicorn just smiled sadly.

“They didn’t have a choice,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft and subdued. “There was… something terrible that made them all leave. There are only around half a dozen of us left now; we managed to hide and wait out that terrible thing.”

Twilight’s eyes widened at this new revelation. “What… what was it, this thing?”

Nightmare shook her head. “That is not a story for a young filly, I’m afraid.”

Twilight nodded. Silence returned between them as they gazed at the stars together. Questions still bubbled in Twilight’s head; she desperately wanted to bombard Nightmare Moon with them to satisfy her unending curiosity, but seeing her teacher with lines of sadness etched across her face and nostalgia in her eyes, one question in particular slipped easily from her throat.

“Do you ever get lonely?”

Twilight immediately regretted her words, expecting a quick rebuttal or a warning to mind her own business, but the Empress of Equestria turned to her slowly and looked at her with dragon-like eyes that – usually so piercing and powerful – were soft and tired.

“A little.” She looked away for a brief moment and laughed, almost defensively. “I suppose, in my position and old age, I do not have many peers I can truly relate to.”

“You don’t act all that old,” Twilight said, eager to try and lift her Empress’s spirits.

“Thank you, Twilight,” Nightmare Moon smiled. “Though it is a little different for alicorns. I was still a foal when I was a hundred years old! Still, I have known many mortals who seemed to consider age as an inconvenient detail. Starswirl the Bearded was always eager to rush off into an adventure or come to the old palace in Everfree to visit, even when his bones creaked, and the Inquisitor still likes to play the dashing rogue.”

“How old is the Inquisitor?” Twilight asked suddenly.

Nightmare Moon pursed her lips. “Oh, I don’t quite recall… perhaps middle-aged, I suppose. He does have some grey coming in, I think. Well, into what wasn’t grey already. Why do you ask?”

“Oh it’s nothing,” the little unicorn tapped her hooves together. “It’s just a funny feeling I have. Nopony knows how old he is; Marshal Silverstar said once that when he was young, he still thought the Inquisitor looked quite old.”

Nightmare Moon shrugged. “Perhaps he just ages well, who knows? Perhaps he’s just embarrassed about his age. Some ponies are funny about that sort of thing. Why do you not just ask him? If you are polite enough, I am sure he won’t mind telling you. It matters not to me.”

Ignoring her teacher’s strange indifference, Twilight couldn’t stop turning over the mystery in her mind. The stallion acted so youthful sometimes, yet he also seemed to carry as much wisdom and weight of years on his shoulders as Nightmare Moon. Spending enough time around both, she could see the similarities, and there was this feeling she couldn’t shake. I’ll look into it later tonight.

============

Dear Orion,

It’s been a while since you last wrote to me. Is everything all right? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it through letters, but I’m available if you want somepony to talk to. You can talk to me, you know.

Anyway, it’s still good to hear from you. I can’t believe all that work Miss Loch’s making you do, and especially that you have to do it with Cobble. I mean, it’s nice that he’s turned out to be repenting and good and everything, but I still can’t wrap my head around my best friend and one of my former tormenters hanging out.

Why would you want to know about what happens at the palace? Politics are pretty boring. It’s just ponies arguing and arguing and never getting anywhere. Although tonight I actually managed to make a decision in court! Except it wasn’t my decision exactly, but the Empress took my advice and used it. It was amazing!

I’ll be starting classes at the Imperial Academy soon. I’m really looking forward to it, but I’m also kind of nervous. Is that weird? I can’t wait to see you though. I really miss you. Write to me soon.

Your friend,

Twilight

============

Fire crackled in hearth, shadows dancing on the walls as the tongues of flame flickered. The Inquisitor’s living room was warm, both in temperature and atmosphere. There were shelves and tables, most holding books or objets d’arte from foreign lands. But none of these were gaudy; they were just the right mix of quality and cost for the sophisticate the Inquisitor considered himself to be. The walls were the rich, sombre brown of exotic hardwood, and the air was musty with the scents of old paper and older dust, but not so much as to be stifling. In case the owner of the apartment ever had guests, the sofas, chairs and cushions arranged in front of the fireplace were of the highest quality money could buy.

The owner himself lay on one of the larger cushions, sinking comfortably into its silky embrace. The Inquisitor had at his side a glass of fine amontillado, and open in his hooves, a brand new book. Beathooven’s Ninth Symphony played on a gramophone in the corner. Everything was calm, collected and dignified.

Just about perfect, the Inquisitor thought blissfully. What he really needed was a deep-tissue massage, but failing that, a quiet glass of sherry would do nicely. In the privacy of his own home, away from unwanted attention, the Inquisitor had shed the Overwatch uniform in favour of the lack of dress customary to the average Equestrian citizen. While the ashen stallion certainly looked stylish and suave in his sharp black outfit, even he had to admit that it felt good to let the skin breathe every once in a while.

In the quiet laziness of the evening, he found himself looking nostalgically at his hip. His ‘Mark’ – as he preferred to call the symbols, rather than the sickeningly saccharine terms that had fallen into common usage over the years – was there, obscured by neither illusion nor garment. The unicorn remembered when it had appeared on his flank; he had showed all of his foalhood friends and their families. Everypony had been so proud of him that day. Almost everypony, he reminded himself. The Inquisitor snorted and shook his head, clearing the memory from his mind. Best not to dwell on that sort of thing right now.

Slipping a bookmark between the pages of Thus Spake Maelstrom – a philosophical text from Konnica that had generated quite the controversy among the Midderlander intelligentsia in its day – the Inquisitor set the tome aside and channelled his magic. The telltale dark aura of magic enveloped his horn and a small notebook flashed into existence, appearing in the air before the stallion. A sufficiently adept unicorn could make a pocket dimension without too much difficulty, and storing things within null-space was a very useful thing indeed. Taking hold of it, he slipped a quill from between its pages and, after taking a moment to collect his thoughts, began to write.

Coincidence is a wondrous thing. Just today, I received the report on the origins of the sonic rainboom that occurred over a month and a half ago. It was a low-priority assignment, and I never really expected much to come of it, but Starburst is truly a treasure. Slow though the report may have been in coming, I can in no way fault its thoroughness, and the nugget of pure gold is found only in the finest of details.

It takes a great deal of sheer power to create a sonic rainboom. Pegasus magic and extreme speed must work in tandem at very high levels. Only a truly gifted individual combines these traits. With the report, I have a great deal of information on this individual: a remarkable seven-year-old filly named Rainbow Dash. She has been tagged as a possible asset for her impressive abilities, and I am keeping her profile open for expansion and review as she develops.

As I said, coincidence is a wonderful thing. And who should she be friends with but the griffon High King’s daughter? Not only can I conserve resources by keeping both under the same watchful eye as they grow together, but an inroad with the griffon girl makes this one doubly desirable. The Cloudsdale office hasn’t had a pegasus so impressive on their Persons of Interest watchlist in quite some time. Starburst indicates that Rainbow Dash’s personality, though rebellious, is impulsive and reckless when provoked. I know the type; she should be easy to guide using reverse psychology. Once she comes of age, I believe she will make a fine recru–

The sound of hammering at his front door tore the Inquisitor away from his train of thought. He frowned and snapped his journal shut. It vanished into null-space with a ‘pop’ and a flash of light.

“Hold on, I’ll be with you in a moment!” he called to the pony at the door. Despite the evening being well underway, the grey stallion was prepared for interruptions at any time. Holding more than one important position in the Equestrian government meant that his time was in high demand, and ponies would ask for him at the most dreadful of hours. Still, he though sourly, I don’t have to like it.

The Inquisitor sighed; irritation and resignation skipped hoof-in-hoof around in his head, laughing mockingly at the sudden break in his private harmony. He stood up, plucked the wineglass from the floor and walked to his bedroom.

Simple and comfortable, the room was occupied by a large, silk-covered bed with a small table on either side. Everything was neat. Not a single thing was out of place. Nothing lay on the carpet, which the Inquisitor kept meticulously clean and tidy whenever the opportunity arose. Bookcases took up two walls of the room, all arranged as neatly as a bookcase ever could be. They held many forbidden tomes the Overwatch had confiscated over the years, from books of black magic to manuscripts filled with seditious philosophies, and even the odd banned erotic novel starring Nightmare Moon herself (kept only for the excellent writing, of course!). All were neatly alphabetized and categorised. The Inquisitor nodded in silent approval. Organisation is the mark of an efficient mind.

He crossed over to a walk-in closet and flung open the doors. Like his room, everything in the closet was fastidiously arranged. While the Inquisitor would vehemently refuse the title of “neat freak”, he had to admit that it was all extraordinarily clean. A place for everything and everything in its place. It simply makes things easier to find, he justified.

Contrary to the beliefs of his peers, the Inquisitor was, like many Canterlotians, a clothes horse. A selection of boots ranging from soft, silent slippers to dressy court shoes to tough hiking boots were laid out at the bottom of the cupboards. There were other parts of the uniform, like the slacks and long cloaks and – his favourite of the ensemble – nehru vests with high band collars. All black, they gave off a certain air of mystery and menace that he found appealing. The uniform was dignified, intimidating and made him look as if he belonged in power. It was really as much part of his show of authority as speech filled with cunning wordplay or an expression designed to provoke just the right response from a pony.

Of course, he didn’t only have work clothes. Beside his personalised Commander’s uniform and the chancellor’s uniform, the Inquisitor had made sure to keep many different outfits with him over the years. He could appreciate fashion, but each piece of his wardrobe served a purpose. Image and presentation were all part of the game, really. He could change his expression to be frightening, dashing or meek – very rarely was he ever meek – but the effect was even more potent when he had the right clothes to go with it. If he needed to butter up a noble, he had the finest cloaks and jewels at hoof. If a business magnate needed impressing, the Inquisitor would wear what was possibly the most finely tailored suit that there had ever been.

But for now, he just needed something to cover up. Look relaxed and suave, he thought. No matter who comes through the door, they’ll appreciate that even the Lord Commander of the Imperial Overwatch and Chancellor of Her Majesty’s Government can be as dressed down as anypony. Makes me more equine. The Inquisitor whipped a tyrian purple dressing gown over his body and walked to the front door, fastening the robe as he went.

There was another series of knocks, noticeably harder and less patient than before, just as the Inquisitor approached the door. He opened it and arched a surprised eyebrow when he wasn’t met by anyone at all. A polite cough drew his attention downwards.

He broke out into a friendly grin. “Why, hello there, Little Spark.”

“Hello, Mister Inquisitor,” she replied. An obliging smile was on her face, but the stallion could see cracks of nervousness in the facade. “I was wondering if you had any spare time to talk. Just a little chat, I mean.”

Taken aback, the Inquisitor creased his brow in thought. Nopony ever really wanted to just chat to him, aside from Nightmare Moon and North Star. Likewise, he rarely if ever gave ponies the opportunity to just chat with him without ulterior motive. It always had a purpose, whether to manipulate or fool. ‘Chatting’ with most ponies was, for the Inquisitor, simply a polite tool.

But here was little Twilight, a small filly, wishing for a simple chat. Conversation, perhaps to learn and be taught. Was that what she wanted? For him to be a second teacher, an associate? A confidant? He looked straight into her eyes – she only shied away slightly. She certainly didn’t look like she had an agenda in mind. If her intentions were simply innocent, possibly just to expand her mind, then the Inquisitor was at a loss. He had never simply conversed with a child for fun before. The opportunity never came up and the idea never crossed his mind.

Yet it was an endearing prospect, somehow. It would certainly be a new experience, and the Inquisitor had been fascinated by Twilight Sparkle ever since he first saw the Flare at the Academy. Such raw power from a foal of only eight years old, and such a gifted mind to go along with it! He had never seen such a capable unicorn in all his years. Even then, to his shame, he had been a little intimidated. His knee-jerk reaction called back to his younger, brasher, and more hate-filled self when he proposed her execution. ‘If something seems a threat, kill it’, he recalled. In hindsight, that was definitely a foolish idea. Why destroy something that could prove useful? Besides, he smiled softly, look at how adorable she is.

“Um... Mister Inquisitor?” the purple pony began, waving her hoof to attract his attention. “Are you all right? Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “If you want a talk, I’ll be more than happy to oblige. After all, the Empress gave me an order to accommodate you as best I can. Come in and sit by the fire with me.”

The filly’s eyes lit up, though he was certain his was not the only fire blazing on this unseasonably chilly September evening. She trotted inside, heading down the hall toward the welcoming yellow glow of the fireplace. The Inquisitor followed her, closing the door behind him.

They settled down by the hearth, easing into plump silk cushions. Twilight’s gaze drifted about the room with rapt interest. She took in everything, from the Inquisitor’s paintings and bookshelves to his furniture. The maiden voyage of casually interacting with a child was going swimmingly so far, he decided. The Inquisitor put his wine down next to him and, for a few minutes, an uneasy silence hung in the air. He had no idea how to talk to children and Twilight seemed too deep in a mix of anxiety and fascinating to begin the conversation. Eventually, it was the little lavender unicorn who spoke first.

“What are you reading?” she asked.

The Inquisitor looked down at his copy of Thus Spake Maelstrom. “This? Oh, it’s a book on philosophy. Probably a bit mature for you. Lion Trotsky’s ideas are somewhat... controversial.”

“Trotsky?” Twilight said, her ears twitched with recognition of the name. “My friend’s read some of his stuff.”

“Really? How old is he?”

“He’s twelve, but he’s really interested in philosophy. And adventure books,” she said.

The Inquisitor smiled. “Your friend sounds like a very well read young colt. Not many ponies can stomach Trotsky. And what do you like to read, Little Spark?”

Their conversation continued thus for a while. Each time she spoke, Twilight would reveal an interesting facet of her life or ask an honest question posed out of innocent inquisitiveness. The Inquisitor found it… refreshing. For once, there was no hidden goal or subtle barb. She never once hesitated to tell him about herself or worried that her questions might reveal her goals. He didn’t even feel the need to plan his sentences; why try to manipulate or verbally spar with a little filly bursting with nothing more sinister than curiosity? As they talked, the Lord Commander of the Imperial Overwatch felt his smile get a little bit more genuine.

“And then she put it back together perfectly! It was like she hadn’t just reversed Mistwind’s Principle of Contrary Stasis!” Twilight’s eyes shone with glee as she waved her hooves in the air. “Nightmare Moon is amazing. I don’t think I’ll ever be as good a magician as she is.”

The Inquisitor chuckled. Her retelling of an earlier lesson was delightfully animated. He had no idea that the Empress had made such an impression on the girl. Her loyalty was guaranteed as she grew to marehood – of that, he was sure. The grey unicorn briefly wondered what the extent of her influence in Equestria would be when the day came that she was elevated to Nightmare Moon’s lieutenant. Whatever the case, he would rather have her as an ally than a rival, that much was certain. She demonstrated such fierce intelligence that she could likely excel at any challenge she faced.

“I’m not so sure, Spark,” he said breezily. “You are very magically gifted, and if you apply yourself, I think you may even outdo Nightmare Moon in many areas of magic.”

Twilight looked shocked at this assertion. “But she’s an alicorn. She’s got the power of... of a god!”

“Well, there are many things she won’t be able to put her mind to,” he said. “Our Empress may be an alicorn, but she certainly isn’t a deity. Like all creatures, alicorns have their limits. Only a fully Enlightened alicorn can surpass those limits, and no alicorn has achieved that since Arche’s era. Nightmare Moon’s limitations are mental, and she has not found a way to rid herself of them.” The Inquisitor smiled at the filly, lowering his voice as if imparting some great secret. “She has had centuries upon centuries to earn her power and expertise. I’ve been at her side for a long time, and I know she doesn’t have the analytical mind to unravel, understand, and piece together the laws of magic and the possibilities of spells. You do. In this area, given enough study and training, you can excel beyond even the Empress.”

“Really?!” Twilight almost leapt up from her seat. The Inquisitor inclined his head with knowing grin. The filly beamed at the prospect, her expression glazing over in deep, bubbly thought. After a while, she looked up at the stallion with eager eyes. “Do you know any really good spells, Inquisitor?”

Scratching his neck, he cocked his head to the side. “Well... I do know one that you might like, if you haven’t seen it before.”

His horn glowed black and he tapped into his personal pocket dimension. It was so full of random objects that he had accumulated over the years, he had developed a seeker spell to sift through the mess in the infinite expanse and retrieve whatever item he had in mind. Need to clean this out at some point, the Inquisitor reminded himself. The more mass there was in his pocket dimension, the more energy he required to open it and move things in and out. Sustaining the dimension was only a minor burden for him, but he really had let it get too cluttered.

He selected an antique tome, a celebrated foal’s storybook, and retrieved it from null-space. It appeared before them in a flash and drew a quizzical look from Twilight. Her eyes demanded an explanation.

“It’s a pocket dimension, Twilight,” he said. “I create a private space underlying our own world and bind it to my person. With this link, I can open it up and put whatever I want in there. It’s an easy enough spell if you know how to do it; fairly common with the more adept of magic-users.”

“Can you teach it to me?” Twilight asked.

“Maybe later, but for now...” he levitated the book to her. “This is yours.”

Her ears perked right up and the wide smile of a foal at Hearth’s Warming Eve took its place on her face. The filly took the book with her magic, carefully touching its ancient cover with her hoof.

“Thank you so much!” she cried.

The Inquisitor waved a hoof dismissively and smirked. “Think nothing of it, Little Spark.”

This ‘spending time with Twilight’ idea is turning out better than I expected, he thought. Not only would he end up further in Nightmare Moon’s good graces for his kindness to the filly, but the Inquisitor felt actual, genuine contentment as he talked to her. Like his leisurely meetings with Nightmare Moon, his worries seemed to be much further from him and he could – to an extent – open himself up. It was really quite liberating.

All of a sudden, Twilight hung her head. Her ears folded back and her smile evaporated into a guilty grimace. Setting the book aside, she looked up at the Inquisitor, avoiding his eyes, and scuffed her hoof against the carpet in trepidation.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, um... I kind of feel bad now,” she murmured. “I mean, you’ve been so nice to me and you even gave me a present, and I don’t know whether I should ask you, because it’s probably a little rude.”

“Ask me what, Twilight?” The Inquisitor rolled out his sweetest, softest smile. His interest was piqued now.

She hung her head lower. “I mean, I came to you in the first place because I was curious, but it’s personal and you might not like me prying into–”

“Go ahead and ask. I won’t get angry.”

She swallowed and looked up at him again, straightening her posture. “Well, I was looking through the archives earlier. Deep in the archives. And I’ve done some comparisons on several different sources and...” she swallowed again. “I know it’s probably not really my place, but I was just really curious and I checked some things and there were links and they didn’t really add up and–”

“What do you want to ask, Twilight?” the Inquisitor said. His patience was wavering, but his ingratiating smile remained.

“How old are you?”

The smile vanished and he furrowed his brow. “What?”

The filly shrank back and her ears flattened again. A flash of fear and guilt briefly played in her eyes. “I’ve seen some old cuttings and photographs and I’ve read some descriptions of the past chancellors. A lot of them have changed enough, but some of them keep on showing the same stallion over and over again.” Information spilled out of her like water from a floodgate. She got herself going and now she couldn’t stop, despite the growing intensity of the Inquisitor’s gaze. “Two-hundred and fifty IE, five hundred and seventy IE and seven hundred and twenty IE all describe the same nameless black-maned grey stallion. Even an engraving and drawing shows a stallion like that wearing something like you usually wear and I saw a photograph from fifty years ago and... and... and it had you in it. Dressed exactly the same and looking exactly the same. So I thought... I wondered if it was just some familial thing or illusion all the chancellors use or if it really was you in all those things.”

As she closed her mouth, her words gathered in the air like a plume of smoke. The Inquisitor’s face was unflinching and beyond stoic. Ulterior motive, the angry cynic inside of him hissed. Even in one so young. His eyes were cold and calculating, holding Twilight in an unwavering gaze. The filly had backed herself up as much as she could, fear widening her eyes. The Inquisitor leaned forward, a frigid, snakelike smile on his lips.

“Twilight,” he said at last. He prepared his magic but masked the black aura that gathered round his horn. “I’ll give you the same explanation I’ve given everypony who asked about that.”

Before she could respond, he shot forward. Magic clamped her and held her in place, covering her mouth to drown out any scream. The stallion tipped his horn and touched it to her forehead. As she squirmed against his spells, the Inquisitor forged a link and began to channel mind magic, casting a hex on her.

The spell was quite a piece of work, one that he was justifiably proud of. It was almost a living thing in its own right, carefully garbling the specifics of particular memories. A forgotten face here, an event divorced from its date there, and inconsistencies vanished like magic. And then there was the cherry on top, a compulsion of four simple words: don’t think about it.

Because some “it”s were just too sensitive to have brought to light.

Checking that the spell was firmly rooted in her mind, the Inquisitor broke the link and stepped back, watching the filly with a casual, yet nonetheless intense gaze. Twilight sat limp for a few minutes, her eyes closed, until she shuddered back to life, opening her lids and blinking in confusion. She flicked her eyes to the Inquisitor.

“Oh yes. That definitely makes sense,” she said, beaming innocently, her voice betraying a hint of confusion. It was likely she didn’t quite remember what they had just been talking about. The Inquisitor glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner.

“It’s getting late now.” He pointed to the clock. “It’s best you run along to bed before you get in trouble with the Empress.”

“Yes, I really should be getting to bed.”

She stood up, wobbling slightly, and frowned at the difficulty. Suffering from the disorienting after-effects of the spell, she continued to blink to clear out what must have been a strange, unknown feeling of light-headedness. The Inquisitor, gentlepony that he was, saw her to his front door.

“Don’t forget your book,” he smirked, floating the antique tome to her.

“Oh yes! Thank you for that.” The little lavender unicorn smiled and yawned, taking hold of the book before turning around and running off into the halls of the palace, calling back to the stallion as she went. “Good evening, Inquisitor!”

“Good evening, Twilight Sparkle,” he said as he closed the door.

Turning back to the living room, the Inquisitor threw himself down on his cushion, wasting no time in raising the amontillado to his lips and swigging it down. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d lost something precious, something that he had never considered needing before. Twilight Sparkle had offered some kind of a release; no worries or back-hoofed manoeuvring. It had only been him and her, conversing in a perfectly innocent and cordial manner. But even she seemed to have an agenda.

The Inquisitor shook his head. Stop being so paranoid. She’s a child, it’s no fault of hers if she’s just curious. There was nothing malevolent about her asking. He snorted, content with his rationalisation, and allowed himself a smirk. An incisive mind indeed. Thank the ancestors she’s still half-trained, or she might have been more trouble than even Luna was, he thought. That hadn’t been a pleasant episode for either of them.

Comments

[Azure Quill]

(First comment has been removed) it would seem i have some rule books to read

[Magnum the Critic]

This.
is the.
happiest.
moment.
of my.
LIFE.

[PonyholicsAnonymous]

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT UPDATED OH GOD BEST NIGHT EVER

mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw605_130324976317.jpg

[Tomi]

Update yesssssss

[Arcshod]

This is like drearily stumbling into the kitchen for breakfast, and finding a sudden christmas tree with the big lego set under it. Thanks, Engines.

[ymom2]

OSHIT UPDATE

[Fausticorn]

1028582
I think Nightmare Moon will pick up on the hex and ...deal with it, and the Inquisitor

[Salacar]

So Mayor Mare doesn't dye her mane grey?

What crazy alternate universe is this!?

[Municipal Engines]

1028698

She's hexed as well, as said in the last couple of sentences.

[Fausticorn]

1028728
In that case, here's hoping that Twilght's inquisitiveness or a future Flare wins out

[DemPonies]

1028728

This seems like a very useful thing to be able to do. Is the spell limited to 'don't ask how old I am' or can it be easily modified to erase or plant other memories? Is it related to the spell Twilight used in 'The Return of Harmony' episode (except that instead of drawing memories to the surface it buries them)?

[Municipal Engines]

1028766

Well, I think I might have not explained it quite so well in the text, but what it does is both replacing/blurring memories and make the target not really think about it and not be concerned about it. Sometimes they'll remember a person and event, but not the date, or they'll remember the date and event, but not the person that participated in it. It blurs everything rather than properly erasing or brainwashing.

[Niklashg]

1028471 you know you can get baned for making First comments.

[DemPonies]

1028794

And if someone reminds them, as Twilight did to NMM, then they just scoff it off as unimportant?

I'm just saying this spell seems like the Holy Grail for someone who plays the 'Great Game' of feudal politics. For example, make someone you've previously made a deal, struck a bargain with, or asked a favor of, forget that the two of you had ever talked about the matter. Or erase secret meetings, make spies forget about crucial details, etc. etc.

Ok, maybe not erase or forget, but less inclined to think about, at least.

[NobleStallionOfReason]

I think the story is brilliant so far.

Can I say that I am glad that Twilight was caught for her actions? I really didn't like how she was becoming a spoiled brat, and I feel that the Nightmare's talk has removed this trait before it could take root as such. I hope it is not something that is going to make a comeback. Also, anyone else think the punishment is going to be looking after a certain baby dragon .

[Professor Plum]

Ooh! Intrigue! I'm liking that ending.

[Lurks-no-More]

Awkward questions all around!

It makes me wonder, once again, just who the Inquisitor is... and now, I'm suddenly unsure about who the Nightmare Moon is, herself.

[LordOfTheWrongs]

1028713
She's just a decade or so younger than the Mayor Mare we're familiar with.
...and not a mayor yet. Secretary Mare? Treasurer Mare? Huh.

[Phantompony]

He knew Luna? So he's over 1000 years old? Looking forward to what the next chapter brings! Great work!

[BarrenBaron]

well this is a rather interesting chess game we got.
we ave the secretive and probably ancient vizier-esque pony, the Marshall spouting about how the other religion is backwards, the Hierophant blindly following the religion of Alicorns and enlightenment. And then orion, whose namesake is the hunter and who is receiving training from a known rebel, and seems to hate nightmare.

your move Municipal Engines!

[Kate_Bit]

1028509 I shall join you in the yes dance YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES!!!!!
On a related topic.... I want to know just who in equestria the Inquisitor really is now more than ever. my only theory is rather far fetched and I doubt it would be as I feel it might be, this said I shall make the minute possibility that he is actually celestia in disguise keeping an eye on her sister. estimated possibility I'm right 3%

[Ralfil]

Wonderful chapter. I especially enjoyed the development of the inquisitor's character. I'm still wondering what his origins are.

[xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx]

Is he... the one bad alicorn who's trapped in the moon that sounds suspiciously like Celestia? Also, I made Gilda the daughter of the leader of the griffons in the obligatory self insert I wrote when I first joined. What a coincidence.

[Electric Mane Six]

This update took a while, but it was well worth it. Bravo!

1028815

Well, I don't know about what punishment she'll get (I was thinking she'd be sorting the entire library), but I'm glad NMM found out and punished her. If my kid did that, I would've done the exact same thing.

[Alamut]

1. The end made me a little bit sad... I've warmed up to the idea of the Inquisitor becoming Twilights second mentor. I hope he won't be too angry about it and stays by the she's just a curious filly part.
2. After this I've gotten really interested. Who or better said what is he? I love this atmosphere of intrigues and secrets you've woven into the story
3. Hm... I'm sympathising with the character who's the most probable villain of the whole story... An old habit of mine, but what can I do if he's so well written?

Now we simply have to wait for Rainbow Dash becomming the Inquisitors prized asset/agent/assassin/whatever and after that fo Solar Flares, or whatever Cellys current name is, return and the epic battle between her and Luna, that will hopefully end with the suns final death What can I say? In this story Twi and her teacher share a real bond, they need each other. It's so much better than the canonical idol-fanboy relationship with Celestia

[conigwolf]

wow really well put together chapter! I enjoyed reading it thanks!

[Femto]

Discord. I called it.

[DarkStratos]

Dear god...my favorite pony has been included! (slightly)
Have been reading this story for the wonderful take on NMM and that you would hopefully add in the rest of the mane 6, AND ONE HAS NOW COME TO THE STORY!!!

[Chuckle5]

So will you be back to updating Night's Favoured Child regularly?

[ImChangingmynameforreaso]

OH MY GOD! The inquisitor is Cheimon, isn't he?

Also, this fic is doing nothing but getting better and better. Keep up ze good work.

[Enclave2277]

I'm calling it, the Inquisitor is an immortal Vampony.

[Trickquestion]

The show has Doctor Hooves, so my guess is that the Inquisitor is, in fact, The Master.

[ymom2]

This Inquisitor seems to be the figure that wields the real power.

[Trot C. Foxy]

1028698
I agree NMM should deal with it immediately, i was actually glad they were "bonding" somewhat but then he goes and hexes a filly...

[Chocolate]

He may keep his house clean, and be seen as a neat freak, but thats just because he has a pocket dimension to dump all his stuff in =)

[Malicious_Magician]

I like seeing the Inquisitors more humane side...or equine.

[Nyronus]

Well. We can toss out Discord as a possible identity for the Inquisitor. The fact that he does have a mark at all and memories of obtaining it proves that he is a pony of... some sort. Hmmm. What is he exactly? I wonder...

Well, I fave'd this story a long time ago for a reason. Keep up the good work.

[Sphye]

I'm going to guess that the Inquisitor is secretly an alicorn. It wouldn't be that hard to hide wings with a spell.

[Fourpony]

Now I must wait for Twilight to break this spell upon her, cause anything starting with "don't think..." never really works for someone who is inquisitive, despite the terrible mental images brought to mind. But assaulting baby Twilight...

[Zeppelin]

Ah, the plot thickens. Worth the wait. Glad to see you're back and I hope you enjoyed Kenya. :)

[Mister Beard]

BY LUNA THIS WAS AMAZING!
Keep up the amazing work!

[The Gentlemen]

HA! the inquisitor has a spell that acts like a "somebody else's problem" field from the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy!

[Jirodyne]

1029265 I call it too! Everyone would hide from him and fear him. Also, Nightmare moon said they hid from the 'something terrible' She never said it went away or was defeated. Also "might have been more trouble than even Luna was" So we know he is an Immortal, that can use mind magic, and most likely 'Discorded' her into Nightmare Moon, seeing as he isn't helping her, and she doesn't know who he is and no one seems to notice he doesn't age including Nightmare Moon.

[Twilight at Dusk]

Wow. Great chapter... And now the question is begged. Just what IS the inquisitor. Wait... He always wears clothes, and he has a horn. Could be hiding wings. He's obviously been around for a long time, perhaps since Nightmare Moon took over. Hrm... This bears thinking about. Perhaps he is one of the pseudo-Immortals NMM mentioned. And now, I must go to work.

[Dream Volt]

1029813 Yea, Twilight Sparkle and "don't think about it" just do no go together. I bet despite the letter every so often she keeps her self awake trying to make sense of Pinkie even though she knows she can't. It's not a matter of if she figures it out, but when, and whether she'll figure out NMM has been whammied too. He was doing such a good job realizing her capabilites too, then underestimates her.

[Municipal Engines]

1030230

As it has been said, it doesn't just make them not think about it. It distorts their memories and replaces some.

[RainbowsAreMagic]

I'm not going to read this chapter. Not yet. I'm going to see how long I can resist, then finally break down and read it.

[Gwenio]

Hmm... I wonder what book he gave her...

[Cedric Bale]

Inquisitor...
i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/004/006/y-u-no-guy.jpg

I keep waiting for things to actually heat up, even though Twilight's still a child. I want Nightmare Moon to find out about this hex like, immediately.

And speaking of Nightmare Moon, you'd think she'd adopt another name, one that didn't contain the word 'nightmare', if she really wants her little ponies to stop being afraid of her.

[DemPonies]

1030262

Hey, ME! Just out of curiosity, would it be possible for someone who knew this spell to hex themselves to forget that they ever hexed anybody?

If that's the case then that could provide for a very cool/confusing twist.

Also, 1030396, Nightmare would have a totally different meaning for ponies, since mare=woman in pony terms. In a more human way to say it; it would be akin to ''Lady of the Night"... or something like that. And, considering the night lasts forever in this story, that's a pretty big title.