Chapter 1: A Not So Triumphant Return

CHAPTER ONE:

A NOT SO TRIUMPHANT RETURN

Bits of memory swam back in shards and fragments. From a large pool of black they came and took form—like silver stars across pitch-black sky.

King Sombra had been defeated.

It was a weird thing to hear, and an even harder thing to accept. So he didn’t.

For a time.

All that remained of King Sombra was a chunk of horn that had been thrown clear of his untimely deathblow. Miles away it had landed; buried in snow, lost and forgotten. For over a year it had remained as it had been—a broken husk of useless material—but soon thoughts began to creep into the void, as well as all those pesky images.

Just inches within my grasp. He sees the crystal heart—so close, so far. Why is it not mine? What is keeping me from it?

Weeks passed and the memories become clearer. He had lost. I lost. He had lost everything. My empire. And now he was but a bit of broken bone.

As time went on the layer of snow covering him thickened and hardened.

Sombra slept. Not because he chose to, only because each time he would think and ponder, what remained of his energy depleted rapidly. Each time he awoke more weeks had gone by without his knowledge. Each time he awoke he felt stronger, more aware.

When he had first gained coherent consciousness he had honestly wondered what was left for him. What was a King without an Empire? What was honestly left for him in this world? He could give up, he told himself. Or course he could. He could simply stop returning to his ponderings and just as well end the game, becoming some artifact lost to existence.

But that would be unlike him.

Once upon waking he saw something other than the world of twisting white flakes he had grown so accustomed to. It was the red of his cape, staring at him as bold as blood against the snow. Could it be true? Underneath it he saw a form—two legs. He even moved one to be sure. When he saw the illusion to be true (he felt nothing of it) he became excited for the first time since appearing in that winter wasteland. I am returning! he exclaimed within. I am not dead! Far from—

Just as quick as it had been it was gone. No cape. No form underneath.

With voiceless rage Sombra screamed and sank back into the murky depths of unconsciousness. The time that passed between his next awakening he would not know.

His form was almost complete. It had taken time and determination and every last ounce of concentration he had, but Sombra was nearly whole again. He could smell the cold, bitter air around him; he could touch the snow which had blanketed him for so long. He never felt cold, nor hungry or thirsty, but this was not something that worried him. Ever since discovering the dark magic that gave him his immense powers and near God-like stature (trading a piece of himself in the bargain), the novelties of food and drink and warmth had lost all their meanings.

Still without all that, he knew what joy felt like. And that was what he felt then: joy. If his body could come back to him from nothing but sheer will, so could his powers. He could wait. Before returning and reclaiming his throne he could wait for every pony that had wronged him to die and rot. For what was time to a being such as he?

He brought a hoof before his eyes and simply watched it for a moment. The polished silver of his battle armor gleamed brilliantly next to the stock white snow. Now that Sombra had next to nothing, it was the little victories that gave him purpose—that drove him on. If he were to stop concentrating, even for an instant, his body would disappear until such time as he could find the strength to create it anew.

When he heard the nearby crunch of hoof over snow his body flickered before his eyes.

Someone was coming.

The sound grew louder and Sombra strained to hear whatever he could.

A wayward traveler? he thought hopefully.

The steps abruptly came to a halt and waited a few seconds before continuing their course, now in a new direction. Sombra’s direction.

Sombra’s reassuring thoughts flew away with the icy wind. Someone lost? Or someone out to finish the job? Could they have really thought I had survived such an ordeal? And how would they have known where I could be?

The rising hoofsteps came to a second halt and this time they did not press on. Sombra knew that whoever they were, they were directly atop of him. A moment later, an object of metal and wood struck the hardened snow and shoveled it aside. Just how many feet had he been buried? Sombra thought. Just how long until he’d be discovered? Weak, frail, more similar to some wretched earth-pony than a God; this was no way for a King to meet their end.

As the sound of the shovel striking snow became more prominent, Sombra allowed himself the briefest of smiles. Could he blame them? he thought. Could he really blame them? If there was even the slightest chance of Equestria’s greatest villain arising once more, would you not scour every inch of it to make sure that the nasty deed was actually done?

For a fleeting moment Sombra lost all worry and even laughed a barely audible chuckle. It was the first sound he’d made since finding himself again.

As more and more light washed over him, and as the pony above him became mere feet away, Sombra regretfully retreated once again to become nothing more than a bit of horn in snow. If he could rebuild himself one time, he could do so again.

He awoke in darkness but was not all too surprised by the fact. How many years had passed this time? he wondered. Ten? A hundred? A thousand?

He took to his new surroundings as quickly as he could, anxious to begin the rebuilding process, only to discover something odd. He was whole already. He already was complete. Sombra stood and heard his hard hooves shift along uneven stone. Although he figured they would surely tremble under his weight, his newfound legs felt strong and sure. Thrilled, he quickly spun in a whirl, watched his cape catch the air before returning to his back.

Even he had surprised himself with his abilities.

Before he could test out the limits of his magic, a wave of noise came echoing from the darkness. It was the sounds of a thousand ponies, cheering and yelling incisively, never ceasing for a moment. Already Sombra hated it. An Empire was supposed to be quite. An Empire—

So just where had this King found himself?

By this time Sombra’s eyes had adjusted to the gloom. It was a cellar he was in. Uneven rock floor, large wooden support beams across the ceiling and up along the corners. He squinted into the distance and made out a staircase leading up. Although something nagged at him—a simple feeling of familiarity—Sombra ignored it and went to the stairs. Immediately the noise grew louder, so he pressed on.

Halfway up the narrow stairway he made the outline of an old wooden door; blinding white light escaped from each crack and crevice. As much as he wanted to know what came after the door, a sudden voice halted him in his tracks.

“Thank you! Thank you all!”

It was the booming voice of Princess Celestia, yelling to be heard above the throngs of screaming ponies.

“I know it has been a near lifetime of sorrow for most of you Crystal ponies,” she continued, “but now the usurper known as Sombra is no more! Your make-believe King is dead!”

In the darkness of the cellar Sombra gritted his teeth and ground his forelegs into the stone, grinding some of it to dust. For nearly a minute he shook with rage, desperately trying to quell the angelic idea of galloping up and out the cellar door in a search for Celestia’s throat to rip out with his teeth.

I’m sure my subjects would love to see that, he thought, allowing himself a very toothy grin.

Carefully he made his way up the rest of the stairs and nudged the door open.

Unlocked. How odd.

Slowly his eyes adjusted to the whiteness of the new room and right away he was hit with the knowledge of the place. It was the Crystal Empire. He was in the Crystal Empire. Somehow he had gotten back there. Somehow he was whole again and somehow he was back. His subjects were also there, he quickly surmised, only they were listening to the message of someone who didn’t belong.

Sombra scanned the long, white room (it was the dinning room, where he would, upon occasion, entertain a few unwilling guests) and found it void of anyone or anything of note. With no one to stop him, he went in search of the Princess.

Once he entered the richly carpeted hall (red and silver) he knew without a doubt where she was speaking from. Before the next corner he stopped and sidled against the wall, gingerly peering over the edge. Just as he had thought! And so easy too!

But it was odd, he thought. It was all so odd.

However the notion of swift revenge had the ability of deterring most coherent thoughts.

At the end of the adjacent hall stood Celestia, her forever flowing hair blowing in the breeze from outside. On his balcony she stood—the one he had used time and time again to address his Empire. Before her was a podium, and to each side was a guard dressed in armor and with weapon. Each eye on the balcony was focused on the crowd. Each eye from the crowd would be focused on her. And soon on a much darker presence.

Sombra wasted no time and lunged down the hall. His worry about lack of magical abilities quickly dispersed as he saw his tendrils of black substance spread outward from beneath him.

Two meters from the opening of the balcony, Sombra formed two blackened spears out of the darkness that encircled him; each weapon gleaming like items freshly dipped in oil. His plan was to impale both guard ponies before a word could be said of his return. A third weapon—the one he would design especially for Celestia—he had not a notion of what would be. He only knew his magic would come up with something in the end. It always did. Or maybe he’d fulfill his original cravings and perform that act with his teeth as planned.

Two meters became one and Sombra yelled out in a battle cry. He launched both black spears but both landed cruelly short.

He had just enough time to see the startled face of Celestia turn to him before he was ripped backward into darkness. Then he lost track of everything.

“Were you having a dream, my friend? I hope it was a good one.”

A nearby voice in the void. Sombra heard it and understood each word, yet confusion overwhelmed his need to answer.

“Oh, don’t be shy. There are no secrets here, not between us. I won’t allow it.”

The voice was of higher pitch; continually on the verge of either mockery… or laughter.

Sombra opened his eyes once again and thought himself back in the cellar at the Crystal Empire. That thought proved fleeting however. The only similarity between here and there were the stone floors and the complete absence of light. What he could see was rock. Lots of it. It was a cave he was in—a mere sliver in a mountain. But even Sombra had seen caves fit for a King.

This one was fit for a slave.

“Cat got your tongue, Sombra?” the voice asked.

Sombra got into a seated position as he took in more of his mediocre ambience. “It’s… King Sombra.” The words came out in nearly a whisper—and even that was generous. Sombra’s strength from before had all but left him, if that dream of the Empire had been anything more than just a dream.

“Oh no. Oh no, no, no,” the voice decreed. “I don’t go by such titles here. And neither will you.” The figure finally made himself known when he stepped a few feet towards him. It was a pony, Sombra was glad to see, wrapped loosely in brown wool. Besides his nose and a bit of his mouth, his hood covered most of his face; due to a large lump on his head, it was more than likely a unicorn Sombra was dealing with. “Plus, I thought all Kings had crowns? You just look like a pony with a warped horn!”

Since coming to Sombra had had not the time nor the inclination to digest exactly what he wore. After a quick scan he discovered it to be nothing at all. And although he might have looked completely naked without his cape and bits of armor on, what made him feel wholly exposed was that bit of curved metal missing atop his head.

“You will return my things to me at once!” Sombra roared, tearing apart his throat in the process.

“But silly ol’ Sombra,” teased the unicorn, “I haven’t taken your things at all. They’re right there on the wall, waiting for you. I wouldn’t dare get rid of those things. They did look rather expensive!”

A bit of silver to his left caught Sombra’s attention. Along the wall, illuminated by a torch, was all his apparel: his greaves, his criniere and peytral, his deep-red cape with white-spotted border, his many spiked crown. How odd it was that he hadn’t noted their appearance before. Or had they only just appeared once the unicorn made mention of them?

“I’ll never understand some of you ponies and your clothes,” the unicorn continued, “almost as if you’re all compensating for something. Is that the case, Sombra? A cape and a crown?”

“King Sombra!”

“If that’s all you can say then we’re not going to have a very good time together.”

Sombra ignored the unicorn’s latest barb and focused his attention on his gear. What his friend in the shadows didn’t know (or couldn’t know, Sombra hoped) was that each one of these items was truly and entirely a piece of himself. Centuries ago, when Sombra’s powers had grown far beyond any pony’s he knew, he distinguished himself from the rest with the creation of his armor and crown. What he wore he had created from of his dark arts. Even with what little strength he felt coursing through him, he knew he could get this back. Should get this back.

So Sombra stretched out his mind and…

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

He increased his pull and felt the first hints of sweat along his brow.

And still nothing. Not a twitch. Not even an inclining of movement.

“Do I still have your attention, my dark friend?”

Sombra turned to find the unicorn sprawled out along the floor, one hoof crossed over the other, as if gossiping with a friend. The torch on the wall gave way to his sneering smile, at the very edges of the darkness of his hood.

Sombra stood up abruptly. His legs wanted to wobble but he swore he would saw them all off if they did. He said coldly: “I am not your friend, as you will soon discover. And I have already grown weary of this game.” Three steps was all he managed before his breath was ripped right from him. Even with this overwhelming feeling he tried for another, stretching out a hoof toward his crown tacked to the wall (it was still several inches from reach). When the pressure from lack of oxygen grew too large he backed away and coughed angrily. A quick hoof to his throat effortlessly erased the question boiling in his head. Around his neck was a collar of rusted iron. Attached to this were two sets of thick links leading to two large hooks along the wall, embedded deep within the rock.

The unicorn’s harsh laugh pulled Sombra back from his sudden plight.

“And you still don’t realize how much trouble you’re in!”

Chapter 2: Light At The End Of A Tunnel

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CHAPTER TWO:

LIGHT AT THE END OF A TUNNEL

Weeks went by. Perhaps months. And in that period Sombra grew close to knowing everything and yet nothing of his captor. Every few weeks the unicorn would return, the same brown cloak concealing his body. From darkness he appeared each time, so Sombra knew that either the mouth of the cave was quite far away, or that the unicorn was simply teleporting in. The latter he was more inclined to believe.

Although Sombra had always considered himself a unique and masterful creature, the unicorn that held him there was almost surely his equal. Sombra, in this cave of torment, had been left as weak as any regular pony. His magic had been stripped from him, along with his uniform, left to hang useless on a rack across the wall. This didn’t mean that Sombra did not try to retrieve his things any opportunity he was given (as well as break the chains that bound him to the wall); it only meant they were entirely in vain.

Sombra had been bested. Bested by something as ordinary as a unicorn.

It was a disgusting notion.

Sombra didn’t need ask why he was there. His captor informed him without question.

“You’ve hurt a lot of ponies, Sombra; a lot of good and innocent ones.”

Again that mocking voice nearly on the edge of laughter.

“They want revenge for what you’ve done; for all the pain you’ve caused. Only a small group know you’re still alive. In fact, most of Equestria think of you as some dead legend, and some don’t even remember you at all. Do you find that sad, Sombra? To do so much and yet for it to accomplish so little?”

Since that first brief conversation in the cave, Sombra had remained silent. His weekly visitor was a unicorn of many words, so he could chatter away with little prodding. And he would. During this time Sombra merely sat and watched. Listened and planned. Held every muscle in his face in perfect stillness; blinked only when it became completely necessary. Maybe there was a chance he could out-annoy his annoying captor.

Maybe not.

Every few months the unicorn would update him about the goings-on in the outside world, mostly about how’d he’d been forgotten and replaced. A new princess had been given the throne to the Crystal Empire, along with her husband of the Royal Guard.

“They make such a cute couple, Sombra! So cute! So very cute! And you know what else? She’s pink!” The cloaked unicorn gave it a moment to sink in. “She’s probably redecorated the place already. Red and silver and black? Bleh! Too moody, Sombra, much too moody! I’m sure it’s a giant cotton candy castle by now!” Sombra would not take the bait, nor any of the other stories he was fed, whether they be truth or fiction.

The purple unicorn came next—the one that had bested his traps and had led to his defeat. Since last time they met she had not only become an alicorn but defeated the villain known as Tirek, with barely a hair misplaced from her head. To Sombra it all sounded preposterous. It all reeked of untruth. Were Celestia and Luna not in the picture any more?

Perhaps most perverse of all was while hearing of his subjects, each freed and able to live as they wished. Sombra already had a great many plans for what would happen to them once he returned. Disobedience could not go unpunished.

When the stories from the rest of Equestria dried up, the unicorn changed his approach at tormenting the motionless Sombra. Sadly, it was a subject Sombra knew all too well.

“So this is you, and this is the Crystal Heart. See? And here’s Cadence, and here’s that little annoying dragon. You know he even got a statue for this?” In the dimness of the cave the unicorn had somehow created a makeshift diagram from multi-colored lines suspended in air. It was like some young filly’s drawing come grotesquely to life. Each caricature was crude at best but each one Sombra could identify plainly. (His own consisting of mostly blacks and grays with a tiny hint of green emitting from his head.) “See how close you were, Sombra? Just how close! Doesn’t that just irk you? Just the tiniest little bit?”

The truth was it did irk him. A lot. Only Sombra’s face would show nothing of the sort.

Years passed and the stories continued. Whether new or old or fiction or truth, Sombra lost all ability to tell. He would listen and the words would bounce from his head or glide effortlessly over him. Like the walls of his cave he was like stone, his mind becoming the only thing that mattered anymore. And that was something he thought could never be broken.

Another week gone by and another item of interest doled out. As always, Sombra sat and waited for its timely conclusion. It had become that much routine. Today that would change.

“There was a parade at the Crystal Empire today,” the unicorn started, perched awkwardly on a wooden stool. “It was in honor of your defeat, except no one mentioned your name. No one wanted to. No one even remembered you. They called in Peace Day. Gag! But I guess that’s all you’re good for now, Sombra. A day of celebration and debauchery, joy and—”

All of a sudden the chair the unicorn had been sitting in flew against the wall, breaking into a hundred fragments. In a fraction of a second the unicorn covered the distance between the two and held Sombra’s head between his hooves. “Are you even LISTENING to me!?” he screamed.

Sombra’s blinked a tired blink and said nothing. Inside, he wanted to grin a wolfish grin, but managed to contain it. Due to his quick flight over the unicorn’s hood had fallen back. Now Sombra could see his light brown fur, the bits of white hair that covered parts of his chin, the dark bags under his eyes, and, perhaps most alarming of all, the unicorn’s eyes themselves: red and yellow, neither pupil or iris matching the other.

The unicorn knew he was looking, and instead of correcting his hood he rather disappeared in a huff of dark smoke. Some ways away, far down the dark recesses of the cave Sombra had not been permitted to explore, came a secondary whoosh. “Story time is over, Sombra!” the unicorn bellowed, every word clanging harshly against the walls. “Next we try something different!”

A third whoosh told Sombra that his captor had left. Only an hour later, when not another sound came out from the darkness, did Sombra allow himself that grin he had been holding, along with a laugh that echoed into madness.

For the first time in a long time Sombra felt more like himself. He was stone—and he had proven it—and that unicorn was just that. A unicorn. A mortal. An object to either be destroyed or pushed aside. All Sombra need do was wait him out.

And Sombra had the time. All the time left in the world. He also had the mind to do it with.

His first escape came soon after.

Sombra’s first glimpse at freedom came not with a bang but rather a mild thud. The sound of clanging metal; he stirred awake by the noise.

His rusted collar lied limp along the floor, split neatly in two. Whether he had worn it out by his constant struggles or if it had simply weakened due to the effects of time, Sombra did not know. And neither did he care.

With one large breath of sour tasting air he wasted not a moment and lunged into the (until then) unreachable darkness. For meters and meters he galloped, never slowing, pressing further and further into the black. Eventually, in the distance a bit of light came alive. An exit! he thought. The light grew greater until it formed the clearly cut mouth of the cave. Rapidly Sombra could hear the winds from outside; could smell the fresh, chilly air blowing by the entrance. He was close. He was so close.

Then he came awake by the sounds of falling chain.

He was back in his tiny rock prison, his collar back on the ground, again cut plainly in two. Unlike his first lunge at freedom, Sombra paused to think. Was this to be his news means of torment? he pondered. The notions of escape without its justifying conclusion?

He stared at the bits of collar near his hooves and then at the endless black that made up the rest of the cave. After a moment of contemplation he kicked the discarded restraint into a corner. In rage he screamed, nevertheless also at his ghastly indecision.

Another try could mean his escape.

Yet it could also mean another jolt back into the pit—back into the cavern.

A moment of deliberation was all it took before Sombra knew what he must do.

The first year of his march proved the easiest.

Since Sombra had little else in means of entertainment, he walked the darkened path as many times as his body would allow. Each time he reached the brightly lit end of the path and returned to the start accompanied by the sound of falling metal, he did not yell out as was prone to him. Instead he simply nudged the broken metal away and trudged forward as if nothing had happened at all (he would never give his keeper the satisfaction of hearing his wails of grief, should he be listening). At some point this spell would end, he told himself. At some point it must loose its potency. In his head Sombra still had hopes of escape. But even near-immortals had their limits.

It was in the second year of his march that Sombra felt the first deep pangs of defeat. Each time he was returned to the dark, each time he was denied his freedom, he found it that much harder to start again. And each time he neared the light at the end of the cave he almost found himself wanting to quit and come back; for at least in that case he would return due to his own accord, and not from the trickery of some bastard unicorn.

Some days he would laugh the entire way down. On others, he would scream and roar for his keeper to reappear—ask him how he would do against an unchained King.

After a time, when the days and months and years spiraled far beyond meaning, Sombra gave into the hopelessness and succumbed to the dark. No longer would he take the bait dangled in front of him. No longer would he play the unicorn’s game.

So with his head down he sat and he waited… and waited… and waited… and—

Sombra awoke and instantly knew something had changed.

Just before he’d come to he’d had a dream most vivid he swore it to be real. It was of his Crystal Heart, left somewhere in the Empire. Only now it looked smaller, much smaller, and far more detailed than its original, simplistic design. In fact, it almost bared resemblance to a real heart, besides the fact that it was of thin crystal and icy blue.

When he came awake again he was more refreshed than usual, more energized and alert. But it was not this that was pleading for his attention.

By his side, his chain and collar continued their broken existence; and his armor sat useless on the wall. So what had changed?

It was the feeling of being watched.

“You still alive in there, Sombra?”

The unicorn. He had come back. After all these years he had come back to check on his guest, or had only chosen to announce himself now.

“I thought maybe some fresh air might due you good!”

The unicorn’s maniacal voice clanged in the distance. Sombra slit his eyes to find anything of note, only to come up short. A moment later, as if knowing of his intentions, a pair of mismatched eyes came forth from the black—red and yellow, glowing so brightly it seemed as if only eyeballs made of fire could illuminate them so.

When the unicorn was certain he had been seen, he yelled out: “Be a good boy and come and greet your keeper, Sombra! I grant you a stay of execution!”

It wasn’t the words that spurred Sombra on. It was the sudden rush of adrenaline and anger. If it was another trick then so be it. Any chance to catch the insane pony that had placed him here was worth any shot he had.

Just as Sombra entered the area beyond the flickering glow of the torch, his captor’s red and yellow eyes vanished from view. A whoosh sound followed, and right after that the slight sting of smoke on his eyes. Still he hammered forward, uncaring if the next thing ahead be a solid mass of rock.

What followed was what Sombra had already seen a thousand times before: a light, starting small, growing into a door. Only this time he pushed through and landed on snow, shutting his eyes from the wall of white that had completely enveloped him.

When his eyes adapted to the brightness he took to his surroundings. He was standing on a hill of snow and rock. Patches of bright grass stood prominent all around.

Sombra didn’t waste much time with the spectacle and instead faced the direction of the cave opening, only to find it gone. A solid slab of smooth rock was all that remained of his home of ten years. Just as he began to fear for his belongings inside, he reassured himself of their safe return. They were apart of him, he remembered. They could never leave him. From underneath thin black coils of smoke quickly enveloped him. When they finally dissipated they left a King in their wake.

His armor. His cape. His crown.

With that simple job done Sombra thought only fleetingly about what he’d do next.

He had a pony to find. A very special one with eyes of red and yellow.

Chapter 3: Time

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CHAPTER THREE:

TIME

Time. What an oddity.

Encased in stone, time has little meaning. Minutes could be days, or months could be years; even the straightforward conversation of a single pair of ponies might feel like a lifetime in and of itself. Oh yes, he heard most everything within his stone prison. With eyes turned to rock there was little else in terms of stimulation, so what else was there to do really, but listen and wait? Perhaps ponder and dream? Perhaps even plot and scheme?

One-thousand years was a long time, even to an immortal. And so, he had currently found, was this cabinet meeting.

“Eeeeuhhh!” Discord yawned loudly while cracking his knuckles. He leaned back in his hard stone chair and made no attempt at getting comfortable. Such a task he already knew was impossible.

“So that’s why I believe if we move the festival back two days as scheduled, it would allow more time for the Earth ponies to…”

Celestia had been busy babbling about festivals and feasts and planning and building for close to an hour now. If Discord knew anything about these weekly cabinet meetings, it was that Celestia liked to talk into infinity—she had planned a schedule for that day, and she meant to arrive at each and every topic of importance only when she damn well got there. And it wasn’t like she was getting any older, right?

In his thin eagle claw, Discord held a grotesquely large mug filled with his own original brew, branded with the label “DISCORD’S” in red wavy lines. Every few seconds a letter would flip or take a lap around the rest of the mug. One morning, several years ago, he had surprised every member of the cabinet with their very own cup of Discord’s special drink (a mix of ground dark beans with hot water and an insane amount of sugar). It was what he drank most days to stay alert. And it was that morning he quickly discovered most ponies did not have the stomach for such a delicacy.

“I concur most definitely!” Discord shouted while raising a hand.

Celestia paused only for the briefest of moments before continuing on.

To the left of Celestia sat Princess Luna, once again habitually weary from last night’s dream duty. To the left of her sat Discord, in a stone chair much smaller than the Princesses own. Twelve chairs circled the vast room’s large oval table. Seven attendees were normal. Sometimes even nine. Eleven was when Discord knew something big was approaching.

Somehow the act of bringing his mug to his mouth became far too much a burden for the draconequus, so he snapped a swizzle-straw to help bridge the two. Unluckily, for the pony seated next to him, the straw that had just appeared was six feet long and loosely wrapped around his head. The pony in question did his best to ignore the creature’s mild attempts at humor, and basically continued his focus on Celestia. Needless to say, the chair beside Discord was usually given to whichever guest entered the room last.

In return Discord did not huff or pout and instead snapped the straw away. He was used to being ignored at these meetings. In due time though, he knew they would come to serve their purpose. Now, more than ever, he had to be careful. Now, more than ever, he had to resist temptation.

The first time he had escaped from his stone imprisonment, he was just as quickly returned there. Six pony friends—six Elements of Harmony—made quick work of the poor creature, even before much of any fun could be had. Cocky, he had told himself soon afterward, when all he had left were his thoughts and the never-ending oodles of time. You got cocky and you played your cards before you even knew what you had. You had NO plan—no plan WHATSOEVER!

More than a year later he had been released again, this time for a more superficial reason. Celestia wanted his magic. His vast, far-reaching magic, she had wished to claim as her own. Her gambit was the quiet and kind pony known as Fluttershy, as well as a series of attempts to showcase the benefits of friendship and all around goodliness. Discord’s only concern at this time was not being turned back into stone. So, after a few overwrought lessons including table manners and the delicate feelings of others, Discord caved and relinquished whatever nastiness was left to him. But truly… in times such as these, what option had been left for him? The next time they found it necessary to cast him to stone, what was stopping them from making it the last? What was stopping them from grabbing the closest pair of chisel and hammer and putting an end to the draconequus’ ways forever? It was always a thought that chilled Discord to his core.

And so he lamented… and he played his part well.

His first task came only a short time later; an order directly from Celestia and for his ears only. It turned out a certain purple, book-loving unicorn was getting a pair of wings to add to her arsenal. How nice it must be to be teacher’s pet! he thought. Or would it be God’s pet? Either way, Discord did as he was bidden and Twilight received her pair of wings—ones that even he could not remove. (Although it did take her some time to locate the “Made in Cloudsdale” tag near her shoulder.)

With that task accomplished, Discord was given a new one in its place. One that he knew he could never really hope to achieve: be good. And stay good. It was this type of knowledge—the knowledge that they were trying to change the very nature of his being—which made the wheels in his head turn in such a way they hadn’t in a very long time.

It was over a year before Celestia called upon him again. A villain from her past (as they all seemed to be) had escaped from Tartarus with the soul intent of—snooze—claiming all of Equestria for himself. Originally Discord had balked at such a notion. Someone other than his truly taking a stab at the throne? Discord was nonplussed. More so than that, he was mad.

Upon meeting the foreboded figure, Discord was taken aback by his calmness and surety. Tirek appeared to have the mind and, could it be the… power? to fulfill such a task. Discord thought it through and gambled what credibility he had left. Half a world was better than none at all. Wasn’t it?

It was only a short time later that Discord choked on the bitter taste of defeat once again. Betrayed, weakened, and utterly paralyzed by the sudden notion that whoever might come out on top—Tirek or Twilight, or whoever would be left when the dust would settle—would be more than happy to deal with Discord accordingly. So with everything lost he played the only thing he had left intact: pity.

Several weeks following the Tirek incident and still Discord could not believe his luck… or that of the pony’s naivety. No stone prison, no banishment to the ends of Equestria, not even a mere slap on the wrist. He had cried and he had pleaded and he had apologized while on his hands and knees, and somehow it had all been accepted. He had almost doomed them all to a life of servitude and pain and somehow he was once more a friend to the ponies of Ponyville.

Joyous beyond measure, he had nearly forgotten himself and presented a conjured up bouquet of flowers to a (let’s just say) startled Celestia. What followed this was a brief and laughably bad two week courtship where they soon discovered some flames never could be relit, no matter the effort—especially given a thousand years of indifference.

The shear simplicity of it all gave him nightmares. Night after night after night it would start out the same. Again he was stone—solid, unmoving, unseeing. Again he imagined their hammers and their tools; their horrific instruments of destruction. Broken into a million tiny fragments, even Discord did not know if he could return from such a state.

But those dreams had ended long ago.

It had been ten years ago, actually. Ten years since the return of Tirek and the return of a more villainous Discord. And although no pony in the present time would ever admit to such malicious thinking, Discord could almost feel the opinion of him questioned all over again. More eyeballs than usual would follow his movements; more whispers would be heard behind closed doors and in the little circles of ponies in the halls. Yet with just a shrug and a high-pitched giggle he dismantled such hearsay and continued on as if nothing had changed. He had far bigger things cooking then. And it was at meetings such as these that he did his best pondering.

“So we are in agreement?” the white alicorn at the head of the table asked.

A majority of hooves lifted into the air. Discord added another vote to try and move things along.

“Very well then. Let’s move on to our last bit of business before closing. If you will all focus your attention to the map on the wall—”

“Oh jeeze!” Discord trumpeted, running a lion paw irritably down his face.

Celestia proved unperturbed. “The map on the wall shows…”

The alicorn then began her latest tirade on what she believed to be the latest nesting ground for Changling activity. In reality, the bit of forest she concerned herself with was only invested with bats and was in-turn scarcely visited. Discord let her droll on nonetheless.

A constant worry of Celestia’s had been the reappearance of some long forgotten foe or the emergence of something new. Truth be told, besides a few minor incidents involving secondary level mythical creatures, Tirek had truly been the last villain of much worth or worry.

Still, Discord had to give it to Celestia for being prepared. Although it was something he knew he would need to change very soon.

When the meeting finally spun itself out Discord hurried along the hall for his solar. A few years ago he had been given keys to it, when it was felt he could be trusted living on the Canterlot grounds. Truth be told, Discord spent very little time in his room. He usually had business elsewhere that needed tending to. That, and he grew rather bored cooped up inside.

“I still don’t know why you come to those.”

Discord twisted his head around while leaving the rest of his body to walk ahead. “Celestia,” he cooed, “and here I thought you’d already said every word in all the land.”

Discord slowed his walk to match that of the alicorn’s.

“For years you pestered me,” she snorted good-naturedly, “asking ‘When would I get a seat on the council?’ and then when I do give you one, all you do is disrupt what little seriousness is left in the room.”

Discord halted to cross his arms. “Don’t give me that, Celestia! First off: you make it seem as if it had all actually been that easy. I ask every week for years to be on that council, and when I’m finally invited, where goes my seat? In the back! Not even allowed to speak!”

“We’ve been through this, Discord. That was a trail run… to see if you truly wanted to be there or not. But now you’re a real member; one who we actually…”—she hesitated a moment—“…can rely on. But the question still remains on whether you want to be there or not.

“Do you?”

The draconequus contemplated for a single moment, before grinning brightly. “Anything, my sweet, to be near such beauty!” He placed a single finger under her chin.

“I see.”

Celestia nudged the finger away with a wing and began to trot off. Discord followed close behind.

“Well sorry Princess if I don’t like to be reminded about all the nasty things that plan to attack and kill us while we sleep—all the invisible dangers that have yet to be seen or felt or worried about. Of course… these things would need to exist for such an event to occur.”

“I’ll give it to you, Discord,” she said, “things have been peaceful for a good long time now—since the escape of Tirek, truly. But we have no way of knowing when the next enemy will strike… and how.”

“I know what you’re in need of, Celestia. A vacation!” Discord snapped his fingers and suddenly a red- and yellow-flowered shirt appeared on him. The one he had conjured for Celestia hung limply from her horn. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply while Discord removed it with a blush. “All I’m saying, dear, is that your worries need not exist! If something comes up—which it won’t—you’ll just send in good old Twilight Sparkle and friends to take care of it! You honestly believe anything could stand a chance against that last show they put on?”

Even though it had been ten years since Tirek had been trounced, Discord could still remember vividly the strength of Twilight’s new powers. When it seemed the combined strength of three alicorns’ magic could only match the might of Tirek, Twilight had pulled something else out entirely. Discord would swear his eyes still hurt from the tackiness of all those colors on all those young mares, but he would never question the power that it had given them. But then again, he thought, what exactly was left of that power?

Celestia had been silent for a second before answering Discord’s question. “As you’ve known, Twilight has chosen to… isolate herself from her friends. Ponies grow up—ten years is a long time—and I think Twilight’s still coming to grips with all there is to know about her alicorn powers. It must be difficult, going from a normal pony to a…”

“Immortal?” Discord finished.

Celestia paused. “Yes.”

Discord smiled again. “Give her a few hundred years and I’m sure she’ll be right as chocolate rain. Having all the time in Equestria can be a wonderful thing, as I’m sure you’ve witnessed!”

Celestia said more to herself, “I’ll have to ask her how she’s doing once I see her.”

“She’s visiting? I had no idea.”

Actually, he did.

“Yes. For a few weeks before returning to her studies.” Celestia looked downcast for a moment, thinking. “I wish she wouldn’t become so absorbed in her research, but it’s whatever she thinks is best.” A hint of a smile warmed her face. “I think I’ll surprise her while she’s here. Maybe her old friends would want to spend some time with her.”

“In that case I’d talk to Pinkie Pie. She’d more than likely know where all her friends have gone to. I’m sure she’d bring cake, too.”

Celestia’s face lit up at the notion. Discord liked to see her happy. Really, he did. It meant her mind was elsewhere than pondering about possible dangers lurking in the dark. And while on that note…

“Speaking of friends,” Discord said, checking a watch that had seconds ago not existed, “I’d better be off. I’m meeting a friend out of town.”

“You’ve been seeing this friend for quite some time, Discord. I’m surprised they’ve stuck with you as long as they have,” Celestia quipped.

Discord feigned a pain in his chest. “Oh Celestia, how your heavy words tear me asunder! You really think the only way I can keep a friend is if I chain them to a wall?”

Celestia giggled lightly. “I guess if I can handle you once a week, someone else can, too.”

On that note the pair went their separate ways and Discord climbed the many stairs to his solar. He could have teleported there (or better yet, to his final destination) but he always liked to use this bit of time to get in the correct mood. This time especially.

Once a week for ten years he had visited a cave to keep an eye on one single pony. This time would be the last of those visits. With this last deed done, he could unleash his well kept secret onto Equestria, and see just how the dominos would fall. It would all be very exciting.

Once the door to his solar was shut tight and locked, Discord took one last breath and snapped himself from the room. After this first move there would be no going back.

Chapter 4: A Pony Walks Into A Bar...

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CHAPTER FOUR:

A PONY WALKS INTO A BAR…

Since leaving his home of ten years behind, Sombra had trampled nothing but snow underhoof. He kept his head down to cut out the wind, and also to give him ample time to ponder his heated thoughts and ideas. A reoccurring notion to the stallion had always been what he would do once he finally found his captor. (He knew he would—it was only the amount of time before that he did not know for certain.) How long he’d keep the unicorn alive was usually the other query that followed. Sombra would grin devilishly at that last thought. But always, even given everything he’d been through, his mind would always find its way back to his Empire. His home. How it had lasted so long without him. How it had all come to this, exactly—this sudden march through some twisted winter wonderland.

On the fourth day out in the snow Sombra felt something he hadn’t in a while. It was pain, stabbing him deep within his guts. For a time he had ignored it, sinking into his burning thoughts to help mask the sensation. Only now it had become far too much for any kind of meditation to drive off.

“Gah!”

One of his hooves scraped a rock buried in the snow, causing him to fall. Using his forelegs to pick himself up, he managed only a ways before sinking back down. Where had all that strength he felt before gone? he wondered. Could it have been another of the unicorn’s tricks?

The lower part of his face was now coated with snow. He licked the area around his mouth to remove it, and came away with the oddest of sensations. The melted snow had tasted wonderful. More so than that, it somehow edged away the cutting pain in his stomach. Rolling onto his side, Sombra tasted all the cold snow his head could reach, both drinking some and chewing some in his mouth. His stomach gurgled in return and soon he had the strength to stand and walk again.

So what did this all mean exactly?

Sombra wasn’t completely sure, but he surmised the need for water and food had by some means returned to him since building his body anew. With that knowledge in hoof he continued his march, stopping every little while to scoop up more of that delicious cold snow to eat. Sombra nearly giggled as he ate. He had completely forgotten just how fun it was to have cravings.

Twelve hours later and Sombra knew the snow had gotten him as far as it would. When he drank, the pain in his side would merely hide for a few minutes, before coming back with a force much stronger than before. And sadly, it was a pain Sombra had little knowledge of sating, for it was the very serious pain of hunger. And even he knew if left unchecked much longer, it could very well end his return before it had begun.

“Damn you!”

Sombra cursed a short time later, once he’d moved aside a branch in the faint hopes of finding a rabbit underneath. It turned out to be a rock. And Sombra had seen enough of those to last a lifetime… or several. Yet it seemed everywhere he turned he was mistaking another normal object as food. No rabbits or dear or fauna of any kind did he find on his path. Instead he had trees and bushes and more and more green things to keep him company. When the pain had gotten near its worst he had nibbled on something red from a branch. It had tasted too odd and too sour for him, so he cleansed his mouth out with snow and trudged along.

Darkness came and with it went Sombra’s best senses. In the light of day he had viewed for miles around, still making out little more but snow and trees in the distance. In the dark—and in his currently depleted state—he was lucky to see a few meters in front of him. Trees seemed to sway and his body tended to sway with them. The worry now was if he should loose his balance, would he find the strength to start up again. Swaying from hoof to hoof, he questioned whether he should have taken some of the berries with him anyway.

Then came a noise. A gaggle of them.

Sombra walked on and the noise increased in volume. It was the murmuring of ponies, a few dozen at least. Unlike the ponies of his Crystal Empire dream, these voices were subdued, genial. That was before a singular voice yelled out above the rest, cutting cleanly through. Although Sombra didn’t understand a single word that had been shouted, he doubted it was his weariness that was the problem. That pony in question had been drunk, Sombra knew. And where there were spirits, there must be…

A dim yellow glow finally fell upon his eyes, causing him to look up for the first time in hours. A large, square log house stood before him, its many windows frosted up from the frigid outdoors. Inside he heard the voices clearer, the sound of cups on tables and utensils on plates, as well as the sound from a lone violin playing softly from within.

As fresh snowflakes started to fall from the black sky Sombra smiled once more, painfully splitting his dry lips in the process. A miracle had shown itself to him. Either that, or the unicorn’s tricks never ceased to amaze. Without caring if it truly was a treat or some trick, he crossed to the other side of the building to enter its warm embrace.

He reminded himself he had ponies to find.

Cold Mug grunted loudly as he set the latest cask onto the bar. Somehow each one felt heavier than the last. Then, using a technique he’d learned from his father and the father before that, he rammed a silver spout into its side without spilling a drop. At a table close by a pony whistled in amusement. In return Cold Mug grunted again and took the empty mead barrel with him to the back.

While rummaging through the bar’s close-knit backroom, Cold Mug (for what must have been the hundred and twelfth time) thought of just why he’d taken up ownership of that loathsome bar. What quickly followed this (again for the hundred and twelfth time) was the blunt answer: because of my father. More than twenty years ago, Tall Mug had had two fillies—Cold Mug and Frosty Mug. Both, as they were told time and again, were destined to handle the family bar when that day would arise. Even before he was able to fully fly with grace, Frosty Mug’s only wish was to travel as far away from home as possible. With that brother gone, that only left—

“Cold Mug! Where you at?”

A shrill voice stirred Mug from his thoughts and brought him back to. Before returning to the bar (and to the dozens of lush ponies that he knew would populate his place tonight) he once again cursed his father and his bar, for what felt like the hundred and twelfth time.

Then he got to work.

An hour later and the place had picked up. Of the twenty or so tables that filled the establishment, nearly half had already been claimed. Farmers, miners, travelers, beggars, aristocrats, and even ponies of unsavory character drank and ate in the glow of the bar’s many fire pits. Cold Mug had never been a harsh judge of character (and, truly, anyone in the service industry was better off trying not to be). Mug’s only concern was if they had coin. If they did, they could have his drink and stay in his abode, perhaps even share in a bit of his time as well, if they didn’t annoy him much.

Truly, with years already spent on the job, Cold Mug had figured he had seen most of what this world had to offer in way of ponies. Sadly that would change tonight.

While Mug was busy lifting yet another large cask onto the bar, he caught sight of the latest pony to enter his lodge. So what was that around his head? he thought briskly. And what was with that red cloth he wore—

“Oh horseshoes!”

Not paying much mind, Mug’s latest spout trick missed the mark and sent a small river of mead onto the floor. A few ponies took note and ironically clapped their hooves together. Mug quickly patched over his mistake and then returned behind the bar. What was it that had distracted him again? He tried to remember. A pony with a cape and some doohickey on his head? Mug gave his head a shake and looked at the doorway again. There he found the same pony from before, plainly dressed in a black rain slicker, busy kicking snow from his hooves onto the entryway carpet.

Despite the pain in his back and his neck, Mug gave his head another shake and chuckled under his breath. He thought grimly, If I ever have a filly of my own we’re going to burn this place down with marshmallows and sticks. Just like father and son… or daughter… or whatever.

The dark pony by the door took a long look around the room before approaching the bar. Once there he removed his hood, revealing a large wave of black mane nearly reaching his shoulders. Although most ponies that frequented Mug’s bar kept their hair short and neat (for work purposes mostly), Mug held his tongue and instead said: “Cold enough for yah?”

The black stallion placed both forelegs on the bar and regarded the bartender drearily. “I do not understand you,” he said.

Throughout his years on the line, Mug had always found a friendly smile could warm the most temped of customers. It was this smile he gave to his guest—for about five seconds at most. When he saw his costumer’s coal-black eyes his smile seemed to slide to the floor. It was then he started to babble. “You see… it’s cold outside and you just came in with the snow and—”

“You have food and drink here, yes?” the stallion cut in.

“Uh—yes. Yes we do.”

“Good. I will take whatever drink you serve to your rabble as well as whatever fresh meat you have hanging in the back.”

Mug licked his oddly dry lips. Did he just say ‘meat’? For the moment he chose to ignore that last statement. “What was that you said you wanted to drink?”

The dark pony regarded him for a moment as if deliberating which way he would proceed with their conversation, then he spun his head and nodded to a pony sitting at a table with a mare. “I’ll have whatever he’s drinking.”

“So mead then?”

Mug was looking for a way to end their exchange as quickly as possible.

The costumer nodded again, this time at the mare. “And whatever she’s drinking.”

“So hard-apple cider instead?”

Mug surprised himself with a cough. Just why was he so nervous all a sudden?

“No,” the dark pony said. “Both. In one glass.”

Mug instantly spun around to complete the order, when seconds later the knowledge of what had just been said finally came to him. He whirled around with his smile back in gear. So he had been pulling my leg this whole time! Mr. Tall, dark, and scary here! Mug regarded the pony warmly. “You really had me for a second there, mister!”

“I’ve had you since the second I stepped in this place, barkeep. Now do the only thing you have any right to do and get me my drink.”

Mug felt what was close to a punch in the gut and began to make the pony’s weird drink of choice. When a single mug proved inefficient a drink picture was substituted. With both hooves he brought it up to the bar and set it down with a thud. Solemnly he said, “That’ll be three—”

“Your listening skills could use an honest retooling, servant,” the dark pony said thickly. “I asked for meat, along with my drink.”

And that was it. Mug had had it. “Listen here, friend! I’ve had it up to here with your tone! Ordering things that no sane pony would want is one thing, but when you start badgering me—” Mug then remembered what exactly had spurred this all on. “And now you want meat? Who eats meat anymore? This is a vegetarian place; always has been! You… you…” But by then Mug was once again staring into the face of his dark guest, hurriedly losing what little wind he originally had felt in his sails.

The dark pony slowly smiled. Unlike most, it did not light up the rest of his face. “Is it coin you are fearful of, barkeep? Do you think I lack the necessary funds for my meal? I assure you, good pony, that I can more than award you for your service.” The pony leaned in closer and now all Mug could see suddenly were his eyes, somehow much bigger than before, somehow filling every inch of his vision. “All you need do is believe, barkeep.”

And just as those few words tumbled out did Mug believe it all. How could he have been so stupid before? Of course the pony had coin to pay—he could nearly hear his bag of bits from here. And of course he could find some meat for his guest! But wasn’t there still a problem?

“I’m sorry, sir, but there really is no meat in the lodge.” Both of Mug’s hooves shook lightly; the left one nudging the customer’s drink in the slightest. The dark pony carefully slid it away from the bartender.

The stallion said, “Outside the backdoor of your kitchen you will find a tree with a hole near its trunk. Pull out whatever’s inside, gut it, and give it a lick over the flames. Then send it to my table in the back.”

“You don’t want a table by the fire?”

The stallion gathered his drink and gave his back to him. “I don’t feel all that cold anymore.”

Only when the dark creature crossed more than half the room did Mug start to feel a modicum of his senses returning. He had been given an order, he knew; one which he didn’t wish to do in the slightest. But given the direction each and every one of his hoofs were headed—and by the butcher’s knife he took with him out the back—he knew what he wished for and what were about to happen had suddenly become two very different things.

Sombra neared the table he had been eyeing in the corner and nearly stumbled into it, spilling a bit of his ludicrous drink in the process. He set it down with a clunk and then himself. Honestly he was surprised he had made it this far. If the trick with the rain slicker or the light hypnosis on the barkeep had not drained what little energy he felt he had, then his short walk to his table must have nearly soaked up the rest.

Sombra breathed deep and eyed his drink. To him it looked like nothing more than a giant heap of brown water, but after eyeing up the rest of the crowd, he decided he would trust his fellow gatherers. His first gulp told of a mistake. The second gulp (alongside a sudden fire which warmed his belly nicely) told him perhaps not all was yet lost.

Several minutes passed before the barkeep returned with his food. Without a word he set it down and began to trot off, before Sombra pulled him back.

“A moment longer, barkeep,” he said.

He could tell the bartender had been fighting to keep going, perhaps even gallop right to the exit and never look back. But his will would never prove a match for a King’s, so slowly he returned. When he drew closer Sombra noted the fresh tears streaking down his face. Obviously, the plate he had just been tasked to prepare was something the pony had never thought he’d need make.

Sombra looked up at him. “You own this place, yes?”

The pony hesitated only a moment. “My father did. Then he gave it to me.”

“And you hate it here, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

“I don’t think I could, sir.”

Sombra paused before asking his last question. “One more question, barkeep, before I let you go: what is it you fear? And answer truthfully.”

The trembling pony thought for a moment, before saying: “Failure.”

“In your eyes, or the eyes of your father?”

The barkeep was about to speak before Sombra shushed him with a hoof to his lips. “Never mind. Sometimes it’s better to guess.” With that same hoof he made circling motions in the air until the barkeep spun around. Sombra said, “Now return to your bar and stay there the rest of the night. Whatever happens next is only normal, correct?”

“Of course,” the pony muttered, before calmly and steadily making his way back behind the bar.

With that bit of business out of the way Sombra finally concentrated on the mess of a plate before him. On a large silver platter the owner had served up a rabbit—so badly diced that Sombra could hardly tell whether it had been a single animal or more. Red flesh and several bits of fur and blood caked most of his plate—whatever bits of meat that had made it to the grill were either burnt or still raw. Still, Sombra ate it all with relish, spitting out bits of fluff all the while crunching on tiny bones. A single rabbit’s heart burst between his teeth like a ripe berry. This had been Sombra’s first real meal in over a thousand years. It was terrible, and yet amazing too.

When the plate of meat became a plate of nothing (he licked away the dripping blood congealing at the bottom, as well) Sombra settled back into his chair and pulled his tall drink towards him. A few more sips sent his head swimming. And what a good feeling it was.

And now to find out just how far we have come, he thought dreamily.

Since eating and drinking his fill he felt leagues away from the frail pony that had entered the lodge. With those tidings in mind he watched over the dozens of other ponies enjoying their night. He thought he would get to know them very well that evening.

As the night wore on and the drinks were drunk, somehow not a single pony noted the wooden bar along the door silently slide down and lock itself across the entrance. Neither did they notice the dark stranger sitting alone in the corner, slowly fade until all that was left of him was an empty table and chair.

Cold Mug, safety busy manning the bar, was the only one who took any of this into consideration. Too bad the only part of his body that was his anymore were his eyes, which swelled up with tears instantly.

Chapter 5: ...And He Doesn't Go Far

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CHAPTER FIVE:

…AND HE DOESN’T GO FAR

The night had been going splendidly. Or that’s what Cloud Nine kept telling himself, when the brief pauses in their conversation became less and less brief. Across from him sat Windy, the pegasus mare he had longed for since the very first day they had met. As per usual, it had started as a mere office friendship, and now Cloud Nine was occupied in the process of trying to take it one step further.

The dinner they had shared had been fine but it was the drinks that had helped considerably, especially in the loosening of tongues. Still, Cloud could not help but feel a little out of his element. The bar had been her idea, and when she suggested it he agreed to it without a second’s hesitation. Before they had even sat at a table, he had already made note never to return. Not unless it was with a certain mare, he rebuked.

Trying to forget the dingy surroundings he was now faced with, he leaned across the table to take one of Windy’s hooves in his own. When she did not pull away, the inside of his chest fluttered like wings. Windy added another hoof to the pair.

“I’m having a nice time,” she said, with a smile that was all genuine.

Cloud smiled back. “So am I. I’m glad we came.” And he was. Then.

And that was when some far away piece of his mind asked exactly what it was he feared. So he answered, without hesitation.

Near the center of the room, standing on a stage barely larger than a single cask, played a mare violinist. On her head she wore a black cowboy hat cocked cutely to the side. On her face she held a grin that seemed to say that absolutely nothing could get her down. And inside she barely held herself together.

Having left her usual band of travelers and free spirits some weeks ago—they could never handle a true solo act, she had discovered far too late—Silver Strings had made her way across nearly a quarter of Equestria. Bars, hotels, banquets, lunches, cafes, anything that would take her she was there. At some spots the pay was good, and each time it was offered she’d snatch it up greedily and almost wonder why it hadn’t been more. Did they not realize who’s music was just moments ago filling their ears?

Farther along the road her wages had decreased steadily, as well as the make of her clientele. Her classically trained hooves now had to play for the enjoyment of the common worker, which meant that time and time again she’d be forced to play something… far beneath her talents. At that moment she was in a bustling rendition of “The Hole in the Boat”—a song she had now gotten four requests for. And each time she was asked she would only smile back and say, “Sounds like a plan, partner!” She only hoped the tips here would see her to the next location.

And that was when someone from the crowd whispered, “And what do you fear?” And so she told them.

Across the room, near the doorway and far from the fire, sat six ponies at a bench. In one of each hoof was a mug of mead, while the other hoof sat pointing upwards as if continually in the midst of raising a point. One look at their soot covered faces could tell one enough. They were miner ponies, from deep in the mountains. Their job was a dangerous one and they drank as if they knew it all too well. At that table Cold Mug could name each and every pony sitting there, and although they might have acted gruff and a tad shrill upon occasion, he knew they were only looking for a place to relax once the hard day was done.

Boulder-Dash laughed loudest of all and took another deep pull from his cup. The day had been rough and now it had come to an end. In the morning he knew his back would ache and the joints in all four of his legs would beg to be put down, but at that moment he was happy. He was with his friends and his workers both. And he didn’t think many ponies could put themselves in quite that type of company.

Just as another pony was about to regale them all with a story, Boulder slapped another of his comrades on the back, making his nose dip deep into his cup. “Mead nose!” the other five shouted instinctively, before falling to laughter louder than anything in the room, including the lone violinist at its center.

Though through the wails of laughter cut a single clear question.

What do I fear? Boulder repeated. Well… Boulder-Dash then answered honestly.

The laughter from the other side of the room did little to distract Hay Seed from the reason he was there. At a circular table he sat with both of his sons, Pumpkin- and Apple Seed, both nearing that scary age known as adulthood. It had been a hard week on their farm—make that a hard year—and the hooves that gripped their cups were still covered in the dirt from their trek over. (Hay Seed had thought a trip to the mountains would help goad him to tell what needed to be told to his sons—now he only wished the trip had proved better than it had been.) From one son to the other Hay Seed hesitated, unable to say what he had practiced all that morning: that their farm would be sold next month and they would be out on the road thereafter. For Hay Seed it was a tough pill to swallow, but his pride could only take him so far. He only hoped he could look them in the eyes when he said it. He also hoped they wouldn’t blame themselves when it was all over… as they were accustom to do when the season’s pickings weren’t as bountiful as expected.

Hay Seed hoped and then he listened, to a singular voice that seemed to float in the air. Fear, it said, show it to me. And then he knew he would.

Safely behind his bar, Cold Mug watched the many acts of this unexpected play and could do little else otherwise. Even later, when the laughter would come to a stop and the screaming would begin, he would only stand by to wipe his bar, and smile that same winning smile all the while.

In that short moment when Cloud Nine and Windy held hooves, a vision had come to him. On that very day, just before heading for home, Windy had seen their boss in his office. With the door closed and the blinds shut, not a single pony could see in. And yet somehow Cloud did. From every angle and view, he watched what they did. And it was all so vivid. And it was all so wrong. And how was it that she could—

“Ow! You’re hurting me!”

Cloud came back from his shocking revelation to find his hoof pressing deeply into Windy’s own. He pulled his forelegs back and for a second watched as they shook with anger.

“What’s gotten into you?” Windy asked, with a look of sudden alarm alive on her up-until-then cute face. “What’s wrong with…”

The words dried in her throat as Cloud brought his head back up. The boyish looks he had been sporting around work rapidly turning to gray wrath. “Why did you bother to bring me here?” he huffed. “If you were seeing him then why did you bother? You plan to make a fool out of me and then tell everyone tomorrow?”

Windy didn’t know what to say to any of that, so she didn’t.

“Answer me you whore!”

Windy’s answer came in the form of her drink leveled in his face. Cloud’s rebuttal was when he smashed his own cup onto the table, prying a jagged piece of wood from what remained with his teeth. He moved forward as she moved back, her eyes now the size of dinner plates.

To Silver Strings, the sound of a shattered cup sounded nothing like it should have. In fact, instead of a sound, it came as a word. A single word. And that word was boo. And yet Silver Strings, being the professional she knew in her heart she was, ignored the noise and continued on with the song she was currently in the midst of. It was even one she didn’t mind so much—up tempo with some melodic bits. It was a tune she could really—

Boo! You suck!

No, she tried to tell herself. It couldn’t be.

Boo! Stop while you’re ahead!

Although her largest fear had always been being shunned by her audience, at over a hundred shows she had never been booed—not even heckled. Until then it had only remained as a persistent thought in her mind. And in her mind it had solidly remained an impossibility. Until that night.

Just the same she played on, a single tear wanting desperately to escape and file down her cheek. Thankfully that was the side of her face she kept pressed to her violin, so the odds of someone seeing were—

You crying now music girl? Don’t cry cause you’re bad, just stop playing!

Silver Strings had found she had had enough and lowered her instrument and bow. Whatever mongoloid that had derailed her beautiful act could answer to her. Once she picked him out from the crowd she could turn the tables on him. But it was only when she finally faced the audience again that she realized just what a silly idea that had been. Every eye in the house was on her. Each eye filled with either contempt or sheer boredom. One pony in the back stood up and began to boo at the top of his lungs and quickly he was joined in with the others. Silver Strings could only shrink away from it all; try and find a corner where it would all just go away.

By the time Boulder-Dash had brought the cup to his lips and back down he had discovered what they were planning to do. The five of them—his comrades, his friends—were planning on burying him in the mine come the next morning. An old abandoned tunnel had already been selected and each role had been dived out between them. One would lure him there with the promise of a rare find. Another would bash his head in with a pickaxe as he entered, and would continue to do so until he became limp. Then, as a team, they would drag him to a corner to begin filling up the lonesome tunnel with the body of Boulder-Dash inside.

To a clear mind the reasoning’s made no sense at all. But the vision Boulder-Dash had been presented with had somehow filled him in on each grim and tiny detail—each note and act and plan. Inside, he knew it to be true. And when finally facing his workers again, each face held that same look of solemn understanding. Boulder-Dash had figured it out and they knew it. Now he thought maybe they’d step up the date and complete their dirty work tonight. Because honestly, with this type of knowledge now learned, what were the odds of him reporting for work tomorrow?

Boulder-Dash hastily made himself a promise: if they wanted him they’d have to drag his lifeless body there.

He stood and angled his head to the left and to the right, cracking both times.

“Let’s get on with it then, you bastards,” he spat, glaring at each of the five in turn.

One of the five smirked and whispered into the ear of another. The recipient of the message laughed in return. That was all it took to start the roe.

“You find death funny, do you?” Boulder-Dash asked, lifting two hooves up in a brawling-type manner. “Remind me to hold my giggles while I bash your skull in with these hooves.”

In the real bar, each of the five seated ponies exchanged a glance of worry and concern between them. In the cloudy head of Boulder-Dash’s, he saw each rise with a well-hidden weapon in tow. So it’s going to be like that? he thought, before lunging forward.

A few minutes prior to this act of wayward violence, Hay Seed sat and watched, fidgeting with the barely touched drink in front of him. Oddly, his focus was not on the small table of miners across the room, but instead on a group of four travelers sitting close by the fire. Stallions all, they each wore tattered garments and came with the same bruised appearance of ponies that didn’t get along with many. The biggest of the lot—a pony mostly clad in browns and blacks—spit onto the floor before throwing his empty cup onto the fire. Although no one reacted as he thought they might, Hay Seed was sure he knew what he saw.

Didn’t he?

And yet it wasn’t those minor social graces that had originally caused him to stare. He knew who they were. All four of them, actually. He had seen them before and now the memories came back like some monster unleashed from a cellar. They were the reason his family’s farm had failed that year. And he could remember the night they had come, hollering and screaming, torch in hoof, ready to hurt and maul and burn whatever got in their way. Instead of instigating a fight as he might have done in his younger days, Hay Seed had held his sons inside until the worst was over. What was left of their fields was scorched earth and nothing more. Their harvest had been destroyed and with it the hopes of his entire family.

So what was there to lose, then? When they were already near the end of their rope?

Hay Seed took a furtive glance at each of his sons, pausing just long enough to remember how hard they had struggled that year, all of them. Without a word passed between them, each son nodded in turn and focused their attention to the table of four by the fire. In each eye of the Seed family, flames flickered brightly, reminding them exactly what had been taken from them. Tonight they would find retribution.

Hay Seed took the lead and exited from the table. Accompanied by his sons, he went to the four and stood by their table until the larger pony took notice.

“What do you want?” the pony asked bluntly.

“What you took from us,” Hay Seed answered, in a tone which was close to melancholy.

The pony at the table smiled at that. “Oh. And what exactly did I take from you?”

“Everything.”

And that was when everything went very bad very fast.

A ways away at his bar, Cold Mug watched what would transpire over the next six-minutes with rapt attention. If truth could be told, and if much of his body were his to control, his first choice of action would have been to hide and cower behind the heavy planks of his workstation, before stealthily making his way towards an exit. But since that option had long since passed, he instead watched, and then hoped, that maybe when things were over and the mess had been cleaned, he might return to the droll life of bartender once more. Yet at the end of those six minutes, he didn’t think that would be possible.

In that first minute, Cloud Nine slashed at the air in front of Windy’s face, causing her to back away towards the bar area and the kitchen. In that first minute, Silver Strings first collapsed off her small perch that doubled as a stage, and then began to retreat to the nearest wall, her violin emitting the most horrible of noises as it dragged against the floor. In that first minute, Boulder-Dash leapt into the very thick of his co-workers, every limb flying wild as each of the others tried to subdue him the quickest way they could. In that first minute, Hay Seed first told the table of four just what is was they had done to his family, before hastily grabbing a bit of coal from the fire to then whip in their general direction.

In that second and third minute, Windy armed herself with a kitchen knife she had miraculously found embedded in a butchers block (alongside a good-sized puddle of blood and fur). As Cloud slashed forward, she slashed back, and soon their weapons clashed nervously in the silence of the kitchen. In that second and third minute, Silver Strings found the corner she had been looking for all along and proceeded to tighten each string on her violin until it snapped, telling herself that her last performance had come that very night. In that second and third minute, the group of five pinning down Boulder-Dash lost hold of him once again, only for him to come swinging back with everything he had. Hoof connected with eye and teeth and suddenly their drunken friend had become something else entirely. Out of his mouth a friend even heard “…buried alive…” but would never be completely sure. In that second and third minute, the Seed brothers made it their single duty to make the other three at that table of delinquents suffer just as much as their family had. Given their many years on the farm and the long twelve hour days they found themselves working time and again, the fight of three on two was still closely matched.

In those final minutes, Windy slashed down with her newly acquired knife, letting lose a torrent of blood from Cloud’s extended foreleg. Barely feeling that pain; Cloud continued forward as he leaked onto the floor. No one from the rest of the bar heard Windy’s cries for help. In those final minutes, Boulder-Dash had come away bloodied and bruised, one of his forelegs bent and most definitely broken. But he had done well, he told himself, as he viewed the unconscious few on the floor. Now there were only a few more conspirators to go. In those final minutes, Silver Strings set her troubles aside as she discovered the booing pony from before. She told herself it was him. Somehow it was him, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that this pony had not only ruined her show but her entire life. So with all that in mind she made it her mission to forcibly feed that pony what remained of her broken instrument, perhaps in some desperate ploy for him to digest the finer arts. In those final minutes, Hay Seed’s nostrils flared wildly as his senses finally caught up with the rest of him, and the smell of burning flesh took over. In his hooves he held that table of four’s leader; his head shoved much too far into one of the fire pits. Although the original struggle had ended over a minute ago, he held on, as though perhaps the pony with no head was simply playing possum for him. Once he released his grip he turned to his sons, now bloodied and weary in the midst of their very serious fight, and he had truly never felt more proud.

Now the six minutes were up.

When that dark stallion materialized at the foot of the bar again, Cold Mug wanted to scream and just keep screaming. Too bad he could only smile and wipe down the bar in that same area he had already been doing for an hour.

“This place has become more lively since I’d arrived,” the pony said, giving the rest of the bar the lightest of glances. Although Mug saw no smile on that dark, cold face he could tell one was hidden just beneath the surface. In his heightened state of fright, Mug didn’t even realize the pony had adopted both a cape and a crown. Maybe he would have taken mind if he didn’t have other things presently worrying him. “Are you listening, barkeep? Or is your attention elsewhere?”

When Mug didn’t respond and only viewed him with his oh-so-very wide eyes, the dark pony laughed and took a step back. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He then waved a hoof near his face and suddenly Mug felt life return to his head. (The rest of his body he could not say the same for.) Still chuckling lightly, the dark creature said, “It has been many years since I’ve done such tricks. A few things are bound to slip my mind.”

Mug found he couldn’t hold the flood of words back any longer. “Oh please oh please oh please oh please stop this I don’t want this I just want to go and oh please look at my bar and all those ponies they need help and oh please—”

With a quiet shush his guest silenced him once more.

He said, “One question, pony, and then I shall depart. Do you know of a pony with eyes of yellow and red, neither eye ever matching the other?”

Mug thought desperately for any pony of note—some passerby he might have seen weeks or even months ago. But he came up with nothing. He shook his head from side to side in spastic motions.

“Are you sure?”

Mug repeated the motions, now a little harder.

“You look nervous, barkeep. Let me help set your mind at ease. Does that sound good?”

Mug thought for a moment, then nodded timidly.

“No. That’s not the way one talks to Kings. You’re supposed to use words. Let’s try that again… and remember, I’m here to help, peasant.”

And suddenly Mug knew it all to be true. Every word this dark pony spoke were the words of the just, and he truly had been sent there to help. So why had he doubted him before? How could he have wronged someone so carelessly?

Mug nodded slowly, and said: “Ok, that sounds nice.”

The pony before him stared down at the floors, a few small puddles of blood creating an abstract painting along the carpets. “You have quite the mess to clean, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

The stallion then viewed the rest of the bar—the destruction, the still bodies of a handful of lifeless ponies, the jarring movements of the rest that were still fighting and killing. “And now you have a lot to explain for, don’t you?”

“I guess I do.”

“You know what would help clear this all away, peasant?”

“No.”

“That’s all right. I do. You have oil in the back, yes? To work your ovens and the like.”

“Yes.”

“Good. With that, I want you to splash it all around and not miss a single corner. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And then you’re going to burn this place to the ground. Remember, I’m here to help.”

“Yes.”

“And what cleans better than fire?”

Mug didn’t have a programmed answer, so his mouth hung open limply.

“Just say yes.”

“Yes.”

“Good. And you know what else? I think you’d better stay inside to make sure the fire gets at everything. You don’t want to botch something as important as that, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Then I’ll bid you goodnight.”

For the briefest of seconds Cold Mug shuttered with relief upon seeing the dark figure vanish from view. Then the horror of it all came back in a wave as he could do no more than watch as his body moved toward the kitchen, and to the oil.

At least no filly of mine will ever need to run this place, he thought solemnly, as he picked up the can.

Chapter 6: A Meeting Of The Minds

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CHAPTER SIX:

A MEETING OF THE MINDS

Discord first grew nervous and then interested as he witnessed three highly esteemed ponies rush him by. All three wore different garments of dress yet all contained eyes that told him something quite large was amiss. Something bad.

With the snap of his fingers, Discord caused the last of the three to freeze in place.

“And just where are you running off to?” he asked playfully, as the other two ponies first took notice of their stalled friend before leaving him behind. “If there were a sale on yogurt I would have been the first to know.”

“Well, you see… I… uh…” The pony’s eyes whirled around in fright as he tried to decide what the less terrifying view was: the floor, or Discord’s unexpectedly invested expression. “It’s the Princess, you understand... she—”

“Celestia?”

“Yes. And she’s called a meeting. An urgent one. She says—”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now. She says—”

“That troubles a’ brewing?”

“No, actually. Just that she wants a meeting, and right away.”

Since being stopped the pony frozen in place had calmed down a tad. Now he merely regarded Discord with a curious look. When Discord said nothing for a moment, he asked, “Can I go now?”

Discord gave his head a shake and presented a smile. “Oh, right. I had forgotten all about you.” He snapped his fingers, releasing the pony. “Go on. Trot away to your meeting.”

The pony managed a few steps before turning back. “Are… aren’t you coming? I’m sure Celestia wants everyone there.”

Discord brought a hand to his chin to scratch his slim beard. “I’m sure she does. And we would hate to disappoint her. I’ll be there momentarily.”

Taking no time, the pony galloped off, nearly crashing into a wall as he rounded a corner. For a few seconds more Discord stood where he had been, contemplating exactly what it could all mean. It could only be another false alarm, he warned himself, or simply some dignitary making some surprise visit, rousing both Celestia and Luna to act accordingly. Yet Discord did not think that was the case.

No. Not this time.

With the sharp snap of his eagle fingers Discord teleported into the meeting room. He had made it roughly three seconds before the pony from before struck the doorframe as he hurried to enter. “Hello again!” Discord said pleasantly. The pony said nothing in return; just lowered his head to huff in some air. While he watched his out of shape friend, Discord also counted the heads of other guests. Seven… eight… nine… Discord’s mismatched eyes grew wide. Eleven… TWELVE?

Could this be it? he contemplated. Could it all have come so soon?

Discord quickly took his seat and tried to keep his giddiness at bay. Being close to seven feet tall and appearing forever mismatched, it was a hard chore to accomplish.

When the noise in the room had quieted to a dull murmur, everyone found their seats and Celestia finally entered the room. Trailing behind her she held two scrolls—both already dog-eared from heavy use. Her face, Discord mused, was looking damn near similar.

Princess Celestia was worn.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” she said, while finding her usual place behind her podium, “but you all know I wouldn’t have called you here if it wasn’t—” As she spoke she glimpsed each member in turn—her way of trying to equalize the room, he surmised. When she got to Discord she paused only briefly, almost as if amazed to see him there at all. Even though they were only eight feet from one another, Discord waved back playfully. It was a wave that was not returned. “—for the most dire of circumstances,” Celestia finished. “Sister Luna?”

On his left, Luna stood and placed one of the scrolls brought in onto the communal board. As like most items of interest brought to their meetings, Discord was unfazed to find it was just another map once revealed.

Discord sank a bit in his chair, preparing himself for the onslaught of speculation and hearsay that was surely to follow. It could go all night, he told himself gloomily.

“This is a scarcely detailed map of the mountain regions just south of the Frozen North. As you can plainly tell, mountains and hills and small paths are what mostly exist here.” She held up a hoof to a small brown splotch near the center of the poster. “Except for this. This is a tavern that has done business in those hills for close to forty years. Travelers, miners, and adventurous ponies were the type to frequent it. Although the name of the establishment still remains a mystery to us—my sister and I had never paid a visit to the place—the fact remains that this tavern is now no more.”

Luna paused for emphasis, then took a breath to continue.

“We—”

“I blame location,” Discord blurted out, both hands crossed over his chest. “Who the hell wants a drink in the middle of some snow? I mean—”

“Discord,” Luna warned, “this is hardly the time for your mockery. The reason this place is no more is not merely due to the petty absence of coin. Two days ago it was burnt to the ground.

“With twenty-two souls inside.”

A hush fell over the room. A few ponies turned to their nearest neighbor but said nothing between them. Discord, meanwhile, leaned forward with rapt attention. How could he have not seen it before? he asked himself shrilly. How in Equestria could he have MISSED IT? It’s on a giant MAP for Celestia’s sake! Now that Discord’s full attention came to focus, he finally noted each hill and each rock that had been hastily painted upon the map, along with the paths. Occasionally on some of his weekly visits, when his miserable houseguest proved a little too boring for company, Discord would take a leisurely stroll along the mountain’s paths, purely to walk and to think. But this tavern… had he seen it before? That he could not remember for certain. Although it mattered little.

It was then that Discord finally realized Celestia was talking again.

“… the support beams gave in and the roof must have caved soon after. And now one horrific aftermath is all that remains, along with many unanswered questions. Such as: How did no one make it out? And why did it look as if no one tried to, either?”

And with those sweet words Discord knew without a shadow of a doubt just who had caused such a scene, and what pleased him most was that not a single pony had been around to mention his name… or even the vaguest of descriptions.

Well if that was the case…

“Well I don’t see what all the doom and gloom is about Celestia,” Discord said loudly, rising from his seat. “A bunch of drunken ponies set fire to a place and then stay inside to stay warm. I would say it was either an accident or the result of ridiculous gross negligence.” Discord stretched out his long back, emitting a series of sharp pops and cracks. “And how in Equestria could this map tell you all of that? I think you’ve worried yourself so much you’ve created a story before the facts!”

Celestia regarded him coldly. Any hint of humor she might have had earlier obviously evaporated once she’d entered the room. “Discord, I do hope you are taking this as seriously as I. I, for one, do not find anything humorous about the deaths of twenty-two of my subjects, especially under such mysterious circumstances. And since you make mention of our complete lack of witnesses, we do in fact have one. A pegasus of the Royal Guard—stationed along the road near the bar. He told us what he could and helped us greatly.”

Discord asked, “Is he still here? I’d love to speak with him.” And a great and many more things, as well.

“Sadly for you he has been returned to his post. He appeared rather shook up and thought the best course would be to continue on the job. But he told us all he saw before he left.”

“And what was that? That a group of dullards drank themselves into such a state that the sound of fire-juggling sounded neat?”

Celestia shot him another icy glare and the literal feeling of an invisible noose tightened around his neck. “If I should need to warn you a third time Discord, I will remove you from the room. As I’ve said before, this is not a laughing matter.” Celestia’s horn went back to its neutral color and Discord was released from the hold. Like a small filly he stomped his way back to his chair.

Celestia spoke to the rest of the room again. “As our witness testified, before the tavern erupted into flames only a single pony left the tavern. He, or she, or it, was wearing a black cloak that concealed their face and most of their body, but they could not have been much larger than any normal adult stallion or mare. Once they were well away from the scene, I was told the fire appeared quickly thereafter.”

Discord raised his paw. When it went unnoticed, he waved it around timidly.

Celestia sighed. “Don’t make me regret this. Discord, your thoughts?”

“An arsonist?”

The white alicorn chewed on the suggestion. “That’s the most productive thing you’ve said all day, Discord, but sadly I doubt such is the answer. As our witness could attest when he himself tried to open the doors to the already burning bar—the doors were locked tight from the inside. When that failed, he went to the windows to try and break one open. He said what he saw there stopped him cold. A dozen or more ponies crowded the main room—some already unconscious or dead on the floor; others fighting with others; others seeming to casually sit and wait for the flames to come reach them. He told that even the bartender—a pony that he knew—merely stood behind his bar, as if carefully watching over everything.” She turned to Discord. “Does this sound like simple arson to you?”

Discord gulped down his large throat. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Regarding the rest of the room, Celestia continued on more forcefully. “I will not sugarcoat things here because each of you deserve better than that from me. I might leap at shadows from time and again, but that is my right as ruler. If I snuff out every problem even before it becomes one then that’s one less problem to worry about. I’ve lived over a thousand years in this world and I’ve made mistakes aplenty. I will not let this one become something else to add to my memoirs.” She pointed to the map. “What we’re dealing with here is a being of immense power and villainy—a few terms that only a select few can lay claim to, anymore. After this meeting ends, each of you will go back to your respective areas and debrief whoever needs to be debriefed. I want to stop this thing before it spreads.” Celestia laid both hooves on the table in emphasis. “And let me make this one-hundred percent clear to all of you…

“Something malevolent has returned.”

Forty-minutes following this stark statement, Discord and Luna found themselves standing stock still in Celestia’s quarters, watching the panicked alicorn steadily march from one wall to the other. Everything she had heard and that had been said at the meeting had done little to quell her fervent mind. So, after putting a permanent halt to the discussion, she invited Discord and Luna to attend a private meeting.

Celestia ground to a halt. “The last cloaked enemy of Equestria, as I’m sure you’ll both remember, was Tirek.”

She addressed each as she spoke, but Discord couldn’t help feel that her look might have lingered a tad longer on him. He raised an eyebrow in return, daring her to leap at something.

“He started off small and weak,” she continued, “before becoming nearly a giant with horrific power. What is it we know of Tirek now, sister?”

“The villain known as Tirek is still locked away inside Tartarus, under heavy guard.” Luna spoke formally, and in clipped notes. Even since returning from the moon over a decade ago, her speech pattern still had yet to be acclimated. “We received a letter just minutes ago about his continued state… and they say he’s still shackled tight and under watch. And I would not believe the guards to lie about such things.”

“Nor would I, Luna. I only mention Tirek to try and cover each and every base. But even Tirek was not one to kill without provocation. Whoever it is we’re dealing with here seems to have no problem with it.” Celestia turned to walk to her large bay window. Outside, the sun was sinking and ushering in a tranquil view of rich purples and reds. She took it in for a moment before speaking. “I also don’t believe any Changelings were apart of this, either. First, the distance between their home and the mountains area seems far too great. Secondly, what good would a pile of dead ponies do for a race that feeds off love? It doesn’t make sense. And sadly…” She turned to face them again. “…that’s what’s causing me the most worry.”

“I don’t follow you, Celestia,” Discord piped in, after remaining obediently silent as long as he could. “What’s all this talk about sense now?”

“It’s that it doesn’t make any, Discord. I know it might be hard for a creature of chaos to understand, but each of our sizeable enemies from before had a purpose to their madness. Whether it be from simple want of the land or nourishment for their kind, each of our enemy has had purpose. And that’s what I find so troubling.”

Discord coughed aggressively into a hand while pointing the other at Luna. “Aren’t you forgetting someone, dear Princess? Perhaps a little ol’ someone named Nightmare Moon?”

At that remark Luna pursed her lips while Celestia balked.

“Don’t you dare insinuate such things, Discord!” Celestia exclaimed. “Not only would my sister never be apart of such a horrific act, but such a disappearance of a monarch would go noticed quite severely in this land. As far as I’m concerned, Nightmare Moon is dead and is never coming back.”

Discord held up both hands with a wide-eyed expression. “Sorry Celestia, but as you’ve plainly said, I’m just trying to cover all the bases. As I recall, Nightmare Moon was kind of a big deal in her time.” He regarded Luna. “No offence.”

Luna closed her eyes for a second to compose herself. “Yes, for a time, long, long ago I was the being known as Nightmare Moon; but that being only contended herself with the goal of total darkness in all of Equestria, and not the innocent deaths of ponies. Which is why I will not even point a hoof at you, Discord, for such rampant destruction, I believe, is even beyond you.”

Discord rolled his eyes. “Oh, thanks for the level of confidence, Princess, but I think even you would know I’d rather have my ponies covered in chocolate milk or banana peels, not fire. And how would I ever get all the way to the mountains and back, without a single pony taking notice?”

Again Celestia had begun silently pacing as the pair spoke. Now she stopped in front of them. “I did not call you both here to lay blame. Luna, I’ve known you for over a thousand years and would trust you with my life.” Luna bowed her head at the compliment. “Discord, although you haven’t been on the side of good as long as I’d like, you’ve shown you’re willing to do what’s best for Equestria. I…” Suddenly the alicorn looked parched. “…trust you, and your ability to help.”

With those words Discord bowed as low as his thin snake-like body would allow (which was about two inches from the floor). “Why thank you, Celestia. I trust you weren’t involved either!”

Choosing to ignore that last remark, Celestia added, “But there’s still one name that hasn’t been mentioned… mostly because I don’t want to believe it to be possible.”

Abruptly the chamber grew quiet; outside the doors, all three could clearly hear the scuffling of hurried hooves against marble. Discord gulped thickly and prepared himself for what was to come.

Celestia said, “Our pony of mystery could also be King Sombra.”

Discord’s eyes narrowed and one of his brows twitched uncontrollably. Oh dear. THIS isn’t good. It isn’t supposed to happen THIS fast, is it? IS IT?

“King Somber, you say?” Discord lamented. “Sounds like one gloomy pony.”

“King Sombra,” Celestia repeated.

“King Sombrero?”

“Sombra!” she cried. “He was once the despicable ruler of the Crystal Empire before Luna and I put a stop to him. Except when he knew he was defeated, he cast a curse onto his kingdom that caused it to disappear for a millennium. A few years ago that Empire returned, along with Sombra. And it was only because of Twilight and her friends that he was defeated again.”

“So he’s lost twice now and he still calls himself King?”

“No more jokes, Discord.”

The look in Celestia’s eyes told him enough. He shut his trap to listen a moment… and to contemplate.

“Other enemies of Equestria—Tirek, Chrysalis, Nightmare Moon, and yourself—we’ve been able to either lock them away or reform them if possible. Since we could not take that same chance with Sombra, he was destroyed most forcefully.”

“You mean something worse than stone?” Discord asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes. He was engulfed in a powerful white light before shattering into a thousand pieces.”

“And so now this King—who’s now more like a jigsaw puzzle—is somehow your diabolical pony? I don’t even know if I could live through something like that!”

Celestia lowered her head to ponder. “I will give that it is still a wild notion, but not one I’m yet ready to rule out. Sombra, while he was still in control of the Crystal Empire, wanted nothing more than to rule, whether that meant slaughtering hundreds in his path. Truly, for the first time in centuries, I honestly hope we might be dealing with something entirely new.”

The brisk cold created goose-bumps along Discord’s bare body, so he summoned a jacket to keep him warm. When the secondary meeting had been disbanded—and no final answer come to—Discord went to his solar and then quickly snapped his fingers to the site of all his troubles.

A few ponies worked amongst the burnt ruble, pulling out debris and bodies alike. Discord remained encased in the wooded area up a hill, using a pair of binoculars to better his vision. Leaning against a tree he surveyed the blackened and charred area for quite some time, and truly didn’t know if he was bothered by it or not. Time, he believed, had a way of changing most anyone’s way of viewing life.

The only question that remained now in that draconequus’ head was just where Sombra would go next. Although Discord always had his guesses.

Chapter 7: Mirrors

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CHAPTER SEVEN:

MIRRORS

Since she had already made note of where it was located in her room, she decided it best to avoid that area altogether. Instead, she busied herself with organizing a few of her dress clothes into the bureau provided. As she pulled out each one she sighed. All were already quite old and yet that seemed not to matter in the slightest. It was then she remembered who had made most of these linens, and all of a sudden the idea of unpacking had lost all of its appeal. So for the next ten minutes she found solace in circling her vast room, still careful to shut out that small part of the wall that she just did not want to see.

For there was a mirror on that wall.

She had looked at me funny, hadn’t she? the alicorn thought while pacing. Although she tried her best and kept her head down, she had peaked and then—

Twilight Sparkle stopped her wayward circles and slowly, cautiously angled her head toward the mirror. What stared back at her was not some monster she might have been avoiding but the youthful, vibrant face of a Princess. Since the years since Tirek’s escape, she had grown until she nearly matched the height of Princess Cadence (although she always found herself a little bulkier than her sister-in-law). Except that was where the aging had stopped. And now she knew that was how she would forever remain. Forever beautiful, forever young, and forever watching the ponies around her grow old while she stayed the same.

Twilight came closer to the mirror to investigate her eyes. She half-expected bags to show prominent, but it seemed that even very diminutive details such as exasperation were still unavailable to immortals.

In the few years that followed Tirek’s destruction of her home and the newly-created place in its stead, Twilight and her group of friends each shared a short time of peace. In her large stone tower they would meet, discuss what needed to be discussed (usually very mundane or trivial such items) and then each would go on to continue with their lives as normal. It was business—it always was in Twilight’s mind—but in the company of friends it felt like something else entirely.

A few years later and Twilight’s friends grew up beside her. Each followed their own interests and each reached that confusing age of young adulthood. At the time, Twilight was happy to see it—happy to share in their excitement and possible future endeavors—but that was only when she felt that she was on the same plane as them.

When more years had passed and their usual monster of the year had never shown its ugly head, the six friends disbanded their little meetings entirely in search of what life would offer them next. Truly, Twilight was not sad to see it go. A piece of her always thought they only stuck around for her benefit, because, honestly, without a cataclysmic event in the works, what was a royal alicorn supposed to fill her time with?

Quickly following this, Twilight relocated to Canterlot to be closer to the other Princesses. Although she’d never admit it to anyone, she would always feel better being around others in the same category as her own. Immortal. Ageless. Peerless. It was only a short time later that she uncovered a dusty book from deep in the vaults of the city library. The words she tried to read were very old and some even required the aid of translation. Still Twilight persevered and read through the ancient tomb in nearly a fortnight. And what she discovered would forever change the years that would follow.

Star Swirl the Bearded had left a diary of sorts, encrypted in a way that only heavy research and scrupulous knowledge could uncover. Every time Twilight managed to carve out the latest nugget of information she could gather, another seemed to fall right in her lap, driving her on, fueling her cause. Some nights, the need to know all the more would keep her awake until the sun would make its appearance over the horizon. Other times, the need for food was replaced with the need to know more—to simply dive deeper and deeper.

Each time an old book had coughed out its last bit of worth, a new book was usually mentioned along with its swan song. From there Twilight would request the book from the Canterlot libraries and the research would continue. And although her eyes should have been bloodshot and her face nothing more than dark bags and crow’s feet, she only continued to be glimpsed as ravishing and youthful—full of that vigor that was all alicorn blood and nothing more.

Only a month after discovering that first book did she leave Canterlot for a place of more reclusive study. At the edge of the Hayseed Swamps and still a stone’s throw away from Baltimare, Twilight set up a small cottage for her ongoing research. Far out and away from everyone she knew or that could bother her, Twilight pestered on and tried to forget just why she never added a mirror to her new place. But such things could be overlooked, couldn’t they? When such valuable research was in the works…

And that’s why she looked at me like that, wasn’t it? she thought gloomily. She tried to hide it, I know she—

“Twilight, you settled yet?”

Spike the dragon pushed open the door to her room, his head barely a foot away from the top of the frame. Just as she had grown to her allotted size, Spike had quickly shot past that and must have been near fully grown.

Twilight turned to greet him. “Just about, Spike. Just getting… comfortable.”

Spike raised a curious brow. “All right. You got some mail already, I guess from the Princess. Let me know what we’re doing next.” Spike set down the letters onto the mantel and shut the door behind him, leaving Twilight alone once more.

From across the room she stared at the letters, no way of reading a word from where she stood. But already she knew what they would say—what they would entail. Her body shut down just from the thought alone.

Ten years on and Spike still remained an oddity. While all of her friends went their separate ways to live life on their own, Spike had remained by her side, no matter how odd or mundane that side might have seemed. Time and again Twilight would try and nudge him away, either with ideas of what the rest of the world offered or simply by what a life with her would lack. Each time Spike would shake his head adamantly and the process would begin anew. His only leisure time at all came once a year when he would camp alongside the great dragon migration for a two week period. It was usually when he would return that Twilight would try and talk some sense into him. All in vain.

A few minutes had already gone by and Twilight was still staring at her letters from across the room. Instead of levitating them over, she approached them slowly, like she would a dangerous animal thought unconscious. The one on top was blindingly pink and her heart sank because of it. She knew exactly who it was from. And already she knew exactly what it would say.

“Oh Celestia,” Twilight whimpered, before collapsing onto her bed. “Why did you drag me out here?”

The idea of visiting Canterlot for the first time in a long time had not come from Twilight’s own wish to do so; a letter had come (thankfully from the fireplace in her cabin and not the blaring mouth of a near fully grown dragon) and inside Celestia made mention of a visit. In a much nicer tone Celestia had said too much time had passed and the citizens of Equestria were starting to question just what had happened to their latest Princess. Since Twilight could not disagree, she regretfully left the safety of her studies and shelter, and made her way back home.

But still more than anything she did not want to open that first letter.

Even before attempting to nudge its finely sealed creases Twilight knew she had been invited to a party. Not just any one, either, but a Pinky Pie one. Although she was curious to know just how many of her old friends would attend such a function, the nagging thought of what had happened before still clung to her like tar.

It was nothing that was said per say but perhaps the absence of it. Each one of her friends had aged as they should have—as Twilight should have, truthfully—but the alicorn in the room still stood stark compared to the others. Although none of her friends would dare make mention of such an oddity, their looks could not mask what she knew they felt inside. Twilight had become something else, those looks had told her. She was now more a ‘being’ than a friend.

While locked away in her cabin by the woods, she would make weekly runs into Baltimare for food and provisions. A few times she had caught the eyes of prominent colts and a few times this had lead to something more. Her longest relationship had lasted seven months and she could honestly say she had been happy and content throughout most of it. It was only when the date of her birth came to pass (as much as she’d try and forget its existence) that everything came to a halt. Perhaps it was only the candles, she would try and reason later on. Perhaps if there had been no candles, things would have turned out differently. Spike, the ever trusting guardian that he was, had told Twilight’s coltfriend on just what day her birthday fell. So like any good pony, he threw her a small party for two. But that only served to bring everything to a front.

Without even blowing out her candles she had run from her own home. Without even ending things properly, she had sent her love a letter with a hastily written note of explanation. She could never tell him the real reason for the split (he would try and win her back, she knew, she just knew); she only hoped her words were not as harsh as she felt they might have been.

What happens when I’m a hundred and five and there’s no cake big enough in Equestria to hold that many candles?

Afterwards Twilight could only remind herself she was doing him a favor.

“Who could ever marry an immortal?” she asked the ceiling of her Canterlot room. “Who could ever even love one?”

At some point over the years Twilight had made the decision to refrain from getting close to anyone of importance. As she saw it, they would grow old and die as she would stay young and grieve. What kind of life was that to live? If all there was to look forward to was the ageing and death of everyone you ever made contact with, what kind of life was that to lead?

To her there was no question anymore. She couldn’t get close. She wouldn’t get close.

And then her thoughts came back to that mare that had helped check her in that morning.

She had greeted her pleasantly enough (her eyes going a little wide as she recognized just who it was), but it was when she turned to look for her room key that things changed. There had been a wall mirror above the receptionist’s area, and Twilight had caught the mare glimpsing at her reflection for the briefest of moments. The receptionist had been there for years now, even before Twilight had received her wings and become an alicorn. And that same receptionist was still there, helping that same pony—that same ageless pony. Only now she had something to compare it all to; the lines on her own face, the natural age of her own body.

It was enough to make Twilight want to run out the building and back to her hovel of a home. Instead she smiled as she took her key and tried to show her that everything was fine, that being a Princess was everything that little filly’s dreams made it out to be, and that no strings could ever hope to be attached to such a wish.

Only Twilight would never admit to such a thing.

For a few minutes more Twilight lay in bed and truly wondered when she’d find the nerve to get back up. That was when one of her letters (the one tucked neatly under the bright pink one) expanded in size before exploding in a wash of white light.

“Gah! Oh jeeze!”

Rough coughing followed this short outburst, and when the smoke finally cleared Twilight craned her head to look at the draconequus that had only seconds ago materialized in her room.

“Discord,” she greeted plainly.

He sharply coughed a few more times into a hand. “Were you ever going to open me? Or were you only going to throw me in the fire once you were done laying around?” He stretched out his elongated back, complete with pops. “I might be able to squish myself into an envelope, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still rough on the joints, Princess.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“Well I wish you would.” Discord summoned a gold crown and scepter onto himself. “I would look absolutely smashing!”

It was odd, Twilight found, that Discord’s presence actually helped lift her from her sorrows. In the years that had followed his betrayal with Tirek, she honestly never thought she could trust him again. But every time she had words with Celestia through letter—and every time the name Discord came up in conversation—she had slowly found he had become something of a staple in Canterlot. More so than that, Twilight figured it was also their immortality that might have given strength to their bond. Even when everyone else would be long gone and buried, there’d still be Discord for all time, she thought oddly.

“What is it you want, Discord?” she asked.

Discord began pacing around the room, as if every word he spoke had immediate importance. “Oh, just wanted to say hello and how you been and why don’t you write anymore and also to let you know that the Princesses might be a tad busy this week, what with all the fires they’re putting out and such. But I’m sure you know all about that already.”

Twilight hadn’t heard a word from anyone since checking in. “There’s some emergency going on?”

“I wouldn’t call it that, Twilight. I’d call it a misunderstanding. You know how Celestia likes to jump to whatever conclusion looks the worst.”

Sadly, Twilight couldn’t fully disagree with the draconequus. Celestia—as wise and experienced as she was—had the habit of viewing dangers where there were none to begin with. Twilight had always thought it was her way of making up for all those times an enemy from her past had reappeared for Twilight and her friends to vanquish.

She said, “So you don’t think Celestia will have any time while I’m here?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Twilight. It just might be difficult to get in a minute edgewise.” Discord went to the pink envelope that had been thrown to the floor and picked it up. “I wonder who this could be from?” He opened it, only to be showered with multicolored confetti. He said bluntly: “Now I think I know. And I’m not invited? What horror!”

“I wouldn’t take it too hard, Discord. I’m not even sure if I’ll be going. It’s been… a long time since we’ve been together. To think who’ll even show up drives me crazy.”

Discord set the letter down and sat on the bed beside her. He wrapped an extended arm around her, pulling her in until she was mashed up beside him.

“You’re worried about them looking older, aren’t you?” he said softly.

“I’m more worried about myself looking the same. I should be their age; I should look just like them. I shouldn’t have to remind ponies of how old I am without them thinking I’m just… youthful.”

Discord sighed. “Although I don’t share your complete understanding, I too know what it’s like to have those feelings. Even in the last few years I’ve found myself distancing away from certain ponies, even Fluttershy. I’ve learned that she has her own life and I have mine. And sometimes it gets… difficult to watch them grow while you sort of, stand still and watch.” He paused. “Are you saying you regret becoming an alicorn, Twilight? Celestia only gave this gift to you because she thought it would be a benefit to all of Equestria, you know.”

Twilight lowered her head and pulled away from him. She could tell he was looking down at her, but she didn’t want to meet those eyes. “I’m not sure what I’m saying, Discord. Only that… it’s not what I expected it to be. Not at all.”

Twilight’s heavy words left a downcast feel to the room. Discord abruptly left the bed to face her. “Enough of this gloominess, Twilight. Tell me something good. Tell me how your research fairs.”

“You heard about all that?” she asked, finally looking up.

“It’s the reason you’re out in the middle of nowhere with nothing for company but books, isn’t it? Celestia likes to keep me up to date with how you’re doing once in a while.”

Twilight smiled for the first time that day. It had just been made clear that the few ponies she could actually hold on to forever cared about her unconditionally, and it was a tremendous feeling. “It’s going well, actually. This must be the hardest I’ve ever pushed myself in the spirit of research, but I feel an end coming on. I also think I know where this all might be leading to.”

Discord put both hands on his knees. “Really? Besides just another book detailing how many books you’ve read? Do tell!”

“Well… I…” Twilight then discovered she had spoken too soon. Although she was certain her information was correct, the subject matter might have been better suited for someone other than her present company. “It actually might be about the Elements of Harmony.”

Discord stood back up and raised a single brow. “Oh?”

Suddenly Twilight felt nervous. “Yes. Um—a new Elements of Harmony. Undiscovered until now. It seemed as if Star Swirl the Bearded might have found them and hidden them years ago, and left cryptic clues to their whereabouts.”

For a long moment Discord’s face said nothing of his inner feelings. Then he broke out with a grin. “I hope you don’t plan on using those on me, Twilight!”

Twilight giggled lightly, more from the break of tension than anything. “I wouldn’t worry, Discord. If that really is what’s at the end of all this research, then it’s still a good long ways away. But I know I’ll get there eventually.”

“I’m glad you have your priorities then, Twilight. But I should be off. Equestria’s not going to run itself, is it?”

Twilight shrugged. “I guess not.” She paused for a second. “Thanks for visiting, Discord. It’s nice to know I still have friends somewhere in the world.”

“And you always will, Twilight,” he said, before vanishing into vapor.

When the smoke cleared Twilight edged off the bed and grabbed the envelope from the floor, a few strands of confetti still clinging to its edges. For another long time she stared at it—everything it meant and everything it could mean—then she brought it to the fire to dispose of.

“Sorry girls,” she said aloud, before thinking, But I’m just not the same friend you once knew.

Celestia had been busy pouring over a dozen different sized maps and papers the moment Luna entered her chambers. While she shuffled a document and then viewed another in fine detail, her sister stood to the side, awaiting her attention. If the pony left the tavern and was going this way… she mused in seemingly ruminating circles of thought. But what if I’m wrong? And there’s more than one of them? What if this is merely some group of unicorns who—

“Ahem.”

Celestia shook to her senses and finally regarded her younger sister.

“I am sorry, Luna. But it’s already been a few days and this incident still has me rattled. I still can’t understand who’s done this or why. But, I digress, what do you need?”

Luna fidgeted for a moment, hard-pressed to say what was on her mind. “Twilight Sparkle has already left Canterlot for home. She regrets she couldn’t have visited.”

Celestia sighed and could feel no anger for the slight. Since Twilight had arrived—had it only been two days ago?—she had locked herself away with plans and maps and seemingly nothing more. And now it appeared she had completely forgotten she had invited her only student for a visit. But wasn’t there something else? Oh yes—

“Did she visit with her friends at least?” she asked hopefully.

Luna looked down. “I do not know. Whatever she might have done during her brief time here, not many ponies had seen. Although… she did send a letter just after departing.”

“Oh really? To try and explain just where she went?”

“No, actually.” Luna hesitated. “She asked for a visit in return… from me.”

Celestia chewed the news for a second. “She wants you to visit her?”

“I know it sounds odd, but she says it’s for the research she’s been conducting these last few years. She says I might know a lot more of the history she’s been looking into—help give her a hoof if needed. It would only be for a few weeks, she said, at most.”

Celestia stared ahead to think. Then she tried to shoo away that pang of hurtfulness that had abruptly materialized in her chest. “I guess she figured I’d be too busy for such a thing…”

Luna’s eyes widened as she caught what her sister was insinuating. “No, sister, no. I do not believe Twilight is asking myself over you for any reason other than your duties. She knows how important your role as protector of this land is. And also our knowledge of histories must be evenly matched.”

Celestia nodded at the right moments. Agreeing completely but not feeling all that much better for it. “I think Twilight could use a friend right now, I really do. So I will grant you leave to go,” she said, before looking back at her cluster of maps. “But if something should arise I need to know that both you and Twilight will be back here to help defend Equestria. At any time.”

Luna bowed her head. “I would not have it any other way, sister. If this threat persists, we will be back with haste, along with the fury of the alicorn.”

While Luna couldn’t view her sister with her head to the floor, Celestia smiled wearily. Thousands of years she had known her, and yet even to this day she could continue to be surprised by her loyalty and passion. It was moments such as these that made her believe a lifetime of peace was truly possible for the pair.

Luna put her head back up. “Then I will get ready and depart. Good luck, Celestia.”

“To you too, Luna. And wish Twilight well,” she said, as she watched Luna exit her large chamber.

And although her maps had shown her nothing new in the hours since she’d started her search, Celestia still felt something was amiss in her land.

Chapter 8: The Feeling Of Flight

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CHAPTER EIGHT:

THE FEELING OF FLIGHT

Rainbow Dash was genuinely surprised to feel a bit of apprehension once she got closer to the doors. Although she had been through them on countless occasions, it was still somehow a big deal in her mind. And in a way, she hoped in would remain like that forever.

A plaque attached to the door read “SPITFIRE: CAPTAIN OF THE WONDERBOLTS”.

She hesitantly raised a hoof to knock when a wave of nostalgia caught up with her. It had been just over a year ago, she remembered, when she had been standing at this same spot and had been even more hesitant than now. But at that time she had a great many reasons to be.

A few years following the collapse of Tirek, Rainbow and her friends neatly disbanded their little table of governing in search of what life would mean for each of them. With no known enemy to vanquish or adventure to take part in, Rainbow returned to that steady dream she knew in her heart would genuinely never go away.

“The Wonderbolts. It was meant to be.”

This was the mantra she told herself each morning before arriving at the Academy. It was this same mantra she told herself as she slowly excelled up the Wonderbolts’ ladder, going from a mere cog in their arsenal to a full blown front-of-the-stage show stopper. After a time they even had her teaching her own classes to would-be recruits (although her approach to instructions had to be redrafted a tad when not a single new flyer made it passed her first course). But like all things airborne related, Rainbow took it to heart and gave every inch of herself over to the Wonderbolts. And in return it was the job she had dreamed in would be. And then it became more.

It was during her second year, in the very thick of her career, that she finally broke the ice with Soarin. Originally she had labeled him as a goof—probably due to his unnatural love of pie or seemingly hapless nature—but when their conversations turned to the subject of flight and all things involved, Rainbow perceived a whole new side to the colt.

The relationship between the pair proved an unusual one. Friendship began once Soarin took a seat next to her in the mess hall, and their love of all things aerial-nautical took over. From there things did not appear so different on the surface. Upon occasion they would meet and partake in races in the clouds, tag-team events that would dizzy the eyes of many first year cadets, but what exactly made this different from any other friend of hers? Perhaps that was the reason Soarin got the jump on the mare many had already claimed as “un-claimable.” (Whether that was due to her harsh attitude toward most or something else entirely, was left for others to surmise.) But many viewing it from a distance saw their relationship just as that—a relationship. And since the words “date” or “mare- or colt-friend” never entered their collective lingo, it did not enter the head of Rainbow Dash, either.

Until that was, it proved all too late.

A year of simple friendship and Rainbow had discovered something she never thought she would—she had feelings for a colt, honest and true ones, too. And although she never would announce it from the rooftops or even from the tip of a singular lone cloud, her original mantra had unexpectedly slimmed itself to: “It was meant to be.”

And things would only continue from there.

Deep in her own thoughts and thorough lack of willingness to enter, Rainbow Dash was still standing outside her doors when she surprised her from behind.

“You gonna knock or you think the doors should just open for you?”

Straight away Rainbow froze in place, already knowing exactly who was standing in back of her. Carefully loosening herself of her nerves, she whirled around to face her. “I was just… thinking, you know. It’s… been a long time.”

Standing several feet outside her own office was Spitfire, dressed in a formal uniform and carrying a muffin on a plate. All these years later, Rainbow was happy to note, and she still greeted her job like it was her very first day. Never, in all her years on the Wonderbolts team, did Spitfire ever show a lack of character or willingness to purely call it a day. Maybe that’s why she had never left her post as Captain, even if some thought she would have passed it down by now. Maybe that’s also why the wrinkles around her eyes always seemed more prominent than before—year after hard year of overseeing the daily grind of an entire Academy would take their toll on anyone. Regardless of that, Spitfire greeted her warmly and opened the door for them both.

“Have a seat,” she said, while she positioned herself behind her carefully laid out desk.

Back in her more energetic years, Rainbow had been inclined to completely forgo walking into her office and instead fly right in and crash into the visitor’s chair. Now she only strolled in and calmly took a seat.

“I’m glad you came, Rainbow Dash,” Spitfire said, as she leaned back in her chair. “It had been so long since you’d been by I was unsure if an invitation would be enough.”

“I try and come by from time to time,” Rainbow answered a tad guiltily. “Usually it’s to see Soarin or help with something he might be working on.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry if you feel I might be ignoring you or something.”

Spitfire waved a hoof in the air. “I don’t feel that way Dash, so don’t keep thinking I do. I know your life’s changed quite a lot since you’ve been here and I don’t expect things to remain as they once might have been. Everyone fears change, I guess, in one way or another.” Spitfire scooped up her muffin and plopped both legs on the desk to eat. Rainbow was happy to see this conversation wasn’t emerging as serious as she originally had believed. “So how is Soarin these days? I see him around from time to time but barely get a chance to talk to him. How long you two been hitched now?”

“Two years, actually. And he’s good. He’s constantly tired but he’s good. Going from a busy workplace to a busy home with three others can’t always be easy. But he makes it through. I love him for that.”

Spitfire nodded while chewing. If any of that got through to her, Rainbow wasn’t entirely sure. “Oh right. The little filly pegasi. What were their names again? Sonic boom or some-such?”

“Lightning Dash and Thunder Dash. Just over a year old now.”

“They been flying around the house yet?” Spitfire chewed and mused.

Rainbow Dash gave her a look that should have informed her aplenty. Being the son and daughter of two professional flyers meant that they would be hard pressed to find their children not flying by that age. “They get around,” she answered tiredly.

Spitfire finished her muffin and tossed the wrapper in the trash. Then she sat up in a more professional manner and all at once Rainbow grew agitated all over again. So this wasn’t such a friendly visit, her mind echoed.

“I’m sorry to try and spring this on you Dash after all that you’ve told me, but I know not only would I be kicking myself if I didn’t try, but the people above me would try to, too. In your years of service here, you proved that you were the hoofs-down absolute best among flyers—any flyers. And I also don’t think this place has ever run better than when you were apart of it. What I’m getting at is…” Spitfire took a moment to rearrange her words. “I want you back on the Wonderbolts. You and Soarin, if possible.”

Rainbow shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. Now she had just been faced with what she had feared at the outset might happen if she accepted the invitation. If it had been up to her, she wouldn’t have even been sitting there in the first place, but Soarin had been the one to pester her out of the house and away from the children for a few hours at least, so for him she had folded. And now the question she had been hoping to avoid had come and now she only wished she had stayed at home.

She tried to squash the query quickly. “My kids are too young to stay by themselves… or attend school.”

“We could arrange a caretaker for when you’re here. The Wonderbolts would cover it, of course.” Spitfire shot back her answer as soon as she could. Obviously she had thought these notions out well in advance.

“I don’t want my kids growing up thinking someone else is looking out for them. They should feel that their parents are there for—”

Spitfire then mumbled something under her breath.

“What did you say?” Rainbow asked.

Spitfire sighed. “I only said that maybe Soarin could stay at home then. Be your child’s caretaker… while you came back.”

Their conversation had now taken a steep decline, and instantly Rainbow felt she didn’t want to be in that room anymore.

She said, “Can we take a walk outside?”

Spitfire looked timid for a moment. “Sure.”

Ever since she found the urge to flap large bales of air underneath her wings, Rainbow Dash had felt the urgent pull towards flying. To fly fast and to fly often. If others grew tired of her ways she wholly figured it was the sad strings of jealousy that must have been weighing them down. But not her. Never her. She was too fast and she was too high for any such thought. Miles above the ground, with nothing for company but breathtaking vistas and soft puffy clouds, what more could a pegasus ask for?

It was when she first felt her friendship with Soarin turn into something more that she initially started to question just that. Perhaps she had been wrong, she thought. Perhaps other things existed in this world that might be deserving of her attention.

It was only then, when the unexpected creation of life came knocking at their door (she or Soarin would never admit to a single soul that their children had come unprepared or unexpected—not even through torture would they dare utter such a thing) that Rainbow found something solely new to look forward to. Although the original thought of taking more than a year away from the Wonderbolts chilled her nearly to despair, she found the life growing inside her filled her with a new type of yearning. She would think oddly at the time: Perhaps she wanted to be a mother, after all.

When both fillies came into the world healthy and hearty, the question on many ponies’ minds was when Rainbow Dash would make her grand return to the Wonderbolts. Not being one to follow expectations, Rainbow made the abrupt decision not to come back. They had her husband, Soarin, an excellent flyer in his own right. Why did they need her so bad? Now she had a new job to content with—one she was surprised to learn nearly matched the fulfillment she felt while in the air. And who was to say she would never fly again? Of course she would fly. Such thought to the contrary would be idiotic. Only now she would fly while teaching her children how to do so too.

And it was thoughts like these that kept her grounded as she watched them all float above her.

“You all right, Dash?”

Rainbow looked down from the sky, where currently dozens of pegasi were hurriedly dashing to and fro, through hoops and around flags, throwing rings and doing acrobatics in the beautiful afternoon air. To a unicorn in might have looked like madness in the sky, but to her it just looked gorgeous.

Spitfire stopped their walk near a set of bleachers. “I’m sorry if my asking phased you or whatnot, but like I said I just had to ask. You were a legend when you were here. You did things no one thought were possible, including me. I’m just sorry to see it come to an end so soon.”

Rainbow Dash shook her head with a smile. As nice as it was to be complimented with such words, there were others reasons for her happiness. “I never said it was over, Spitfire. Only that my time with the Wonderbolts was. I still love everything you do—of course I must, if I still let Soarin come here day after day—but I guess I’ve grown since I’d first entered here. I’ll always fly; I’ll never stop doing that. The only thing that’s changed is why I fly. And that’ll be for my kids, when they’re ready.”

Spitfire nodded solemnly, although it looked like she had one more idea in mind. “How ‘bout teaching a summer session? A few hours a day; one class; whatever subject you want?”

Rainbow craned her head to view the many flyers once again. Then she said, “I’ll think about it,” while knowing a very different answer in her heart.

Forty-eight hours had passed and yet he still thought he could feel the warmth on his hooves; the sharp smell of ash and oil and alcohol that seemed to linger in his nostrils much longer than it should have been able to. But those senses were not the worst he had to contend with. No. The one he wished he could almost rid himself of completely was that of sight, and every thing he had seen in that bar as it burned to its foundation.

Nimble Hooves had hoped the distance of time might have made the images go away—or at least fade in their distinctness—but on his second night back on the watch he didn’t know if that would ever truly be possible.

“You okay, Nimble?”

His secondary watcher sat to the left of him, wrapped tight in a green cloak to help shield him from the wind. Atop a tree forty-foot high they sat and watched the snowcapped mountains for miles around. Nimble had always been complimented on his keen eyesight, so his position on the Royal Guard had only felt proper. Now he only felt as if his gift was more like some curse.

They could have gotten out, there was still time so why didn’t they try, I just—

“Nimble, you falling asleep on me?”

Nimble swam back from his images and turned to his partner. “No. I’m sorry. I haven’t been sleeping all that well lately… and…”

“Say no more. I hear yeah.” With his hood pulled far over his face and his sight professionally fixed on the regions ahead, all Nimble could make of his partner were the tip of his nose and the exhale of his breath as he puffed it out into the cold night air. “After what you’d been through, I can understand clearly.” He paused. “You ever gonna to tell me about that? About what you saw?”

Nimble thought a moment for a less blunt answer, but honestly this was a conversation he was never planning on having started. “No,” he said plainly.

When his partner figured nothing more on the subject would be mentioned that night he muttered something along the lines of “All right then” and got back to staring at the stars. Nimble did the same but found his usual concentration heavily tested once more. The nightshift had the ability to make any pony tired beyond reason, but due to Nimble’s own lack of sleep during the day, he found the shadows of the night just that much more inviting.

But all those ponies and all that blood and—

But Nimble’s weary mind grew too fatigued for such loud grievances, so he lowered his head and he slept, for what must have felt like the first time in days.

What awoke him was not the sound of anything, only the sudden panicky urge that he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, assuring himself that something must have woken him or have moved for him to come to, but it all was as it had been before. The trees. The mountains. The starry sky that peeled back into infinity. His only hope was that his partner had not caught him in the act of dreaming.

Nimble turned to find his partner still seated where he’d been, huffing out large strands of white vapor in the air. I wonder if he was sleeping, too, Nimble thought ironically, before noting the new color of his partner’s cloak.

Nimble brought a hoof to his eyes to help rub out some sleep and yet still he saw a black cloak when he knew it should have been green. Had his partner changed his attire since he’d slept? Did they even give out black on the Guard?

Before Nimble could think of anymore reasons to prove the contrary, his partner quickly closed every last notion he could fathom. “Hello, watcher,” the stranger greeted, before turning to face him. The dark pony’s eyes burned with a haunting green glow; bits of purple smoke floated lazily from the rims of both eyes. Without fully putting together what had just happened, Nimble already knew who was sitting beside him. Or what was.

“It was you,” Nimble croaked. “You were at the bar.”

“Yes, I was. And so were you, watcher. Did you enjoy what you saw? Were you not entertained by my play of many acts?”

“It was the worst thing I’d ever seen.”

“Perhaps if you would have seen things the way they had, you might have understood it more.”

Since discovering the cloaked stallion sitting closely on his post, Nimble had been hit with a paralyses of the nerves—every string in every limb felt as tight as piano wire. Slowly, he looked around the rest of the platform for his partner.

“What did you do with the other pony?” he asked, shocking even himself by his own lack of trepidation.

“He went away,” the stallion said thickly.

“What did you do with him?”

“He went away, I said. And if you’d like to go away too, I’m sure that could be arranged.”

That shut Nimble up fast, and suddenly he wondered how many bones he might break should he abruptly decide to jump off his perch while forgetting how to fly. There was still a chance he might live, right? Dodging trees in the dark?

He asked timidly, “Have you come to kill me then? Because I saw you?”

The dark creature giggled under his hood, sending more puffs of white into the air. “No. No, watcher. You will serve a purpose grander than that. You are handy at your job, yes? You see what many others cannot, yes?”

Nimble stuttered a bit. “Sh… sure, I guess.”

“Then tonight you will witness something not many alive have yet had the privilege. You will make note of my return and inform Princess Celestia forthwith. You, watcher, will do this for me.”

Just as Nimble was starting to feel the cool breeze of relief run up his back, something much larger irked at him. “But why? Why would you want her to know?”

The dark stallion finally looked away from him and viewed the many miles of darkness ahead. “Because I am a noble King, and since finding life once more I have tasted the many animals that live in these mountains, and have grown considerably stronger because of it. I do not wish for a fight with an unprepared foe; rather, I want a fight that will quiet every voice that might have said how unfairly she’d been defeated. If when I win begins a new era of history, I want it to be written that I triumphed only on an equal field of play.

“And as Celestia sinks away from this life I want to taste the tears of defeat from her eyes, and I want her to know that no matter what she thought she might do, she could not stop what’s to come.”

When Nimble felt a little surer he was not going to die that night, he hastily said: “Do I have to say all of that?”

“No, watcher. Just tell her that ‘He’ is coming home. I’m sure the rest of the message will reveal itself loud and clear.” He turned back to him. “One more thing, watcher, before I let you fly away.”

Nimble felt each of his joints lock firmly into place and suddenly he was being dragged closer toward the dark figure. His brief sense that not all might be lost swiftly floated away in the high breeze.

“Show us your eyes,” he said, before removing Nimble’s hood from his face. The black stallion regarded him for a moment before smirking. “You have such… beautiful eyes, watcher. You must see all of Equestria in such a brilliant light.”

Nimble nodded up and down in spastic motions. He felt it was the only thing that might get him away from this monster any quicker.

The black stallion raised a hoof in the air. “Do you feel that? Do you feel that little pulse in your head?”

And instantly Nimble did. All too clear he felt it, like the tickling legs of dozens of spiders behind both of his eyes, pulsating and pulling and pushing. It was a horrific sensation, to say the least.

The dark one continued, “For every hour that Celestia does not know of my return, that feeling behind your eyes will grow. If word arrives too late or not at all, each one of your eyes will find its way to the very back of your skull, with force most severe. So the last question I have for you, watcher, is:

“Do you see me now?”

Chapter 9: Together We Stand

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CHAPTER NINE:

TOGETHER WE STAND

Even through the thick double doors Celestia could hear Spitfire and another hastily cleaning throughout her office. Ten minutes ago the meeting that she had arranged had not even existed, but Celestia had been persistent it be now. Times of formality were coming to a close.

Sitting silently in the Wonderbolts’ small waiting room, Celestia declined tea a total of three times before finally caving in on the fourth. She doesn’t bother drinking it—merely holds the cup in her hoof, nudges the thin lemon slice with her spoon every time she feels the need. In respect for the many other ponies busily laboring around the place, she’s trying to appear calm—the secretary just outside Spitfire’s doors, the dozens more strolling up and down halls. Yet Celestia’s almost certain the words have already started to spread.

She had thought those screams would never stop.

During her continuous search into the tavern incident the noise had come out blaring; the yells echoing up and down the filled halls of the Canterlot castle, stopping close to everyone in their immediate tasks. Celestia had left her room the moment it begun just in time to view two guard ponies drag the helpless thing toward her as quickly as they could.

It was the pony from before—the one that had witnessed the destruction of the bar. Only now he was bleeding from both eyes and screaming like every nerve in his body was in the midst of being prodded. Perhaps most disturbing of all was when he began to shriek her name with what remained of his scarred voice, again and again, in that bloodcurdling howl. With every limb he had access to he kicked against the air, striking both the marble floor and the legs of the two guards dragging him. When Celestia was finally made aware of exactly who it was, she rushed down the hall to intercept them.

Barely a few steps from the flailing pony, he screamed out one final sentence. “He’s coming! He’s coming home!”, before collapsing into a whimper. And it was only when Celestia finally put a face to the terrifying message that the distraught pony lapsed into unconsciousness, the horrific pain he must have been enduring finally lifted for the moment.

A few hours later Celestia went to check in on his current condition. Still out cold, the doctors watching over him told her his eyes had not been irreparably damaged, and that given time a full recovery could prove possible. As happy as Celestia was to hear such miraculous news, she thought that what that pony might need most afterwards would not be the healing of something physically broken… but the ability to forget what he had seen. Truly, he had encountered one of the most dangerous creatures in Equestria. Would anyone every feel all that safe again?

And now that was the reason she was here.

To get her own plans into place Celestia had to act and decide fast, or she knew the Empire and all of Equestria would be in peril. She only hoped her urgent letter to Princess Luna and Twilight would reach them as soon as it could and they would come to her aid. Now, more than ever, she needed to show this land that tyranny could never prevail. Having barely tasted just ten years of peace, she thought it would never be enough.

So as she discerned these deep thoughts of hers in the public view of dozens of her subjects, she stirred her tea as if nothing could possibly be wrong in her world.

Spitfire had been quietly contemplating for close to four minutes now, staring down the side of her desk as if perchance a hole she could jump into should appear. Celestia, not feeling the need to fritter anymore precious time, had just moments before unloaded onto Spitfire with everything she knew about Sombra’s return, which scarily, wasn’t all that much.

“I knew Cloud Nine and Windy,” Spitfire muttered, once she’d finally come to the end of her pondering. “I guess the romantic part of me thought they had run off together or something. I guess that sounds sorta’ dumb, doesn’t it?” She put a hoof to her clearly pained face. “And now you tell me they burnt alive because of some monster coming back from the dead. Hearing something like that… it’s not normal, you know?”

Celestia nodded solemnly, wanting to get what was on her mind out in the open as urgent as possible. She only figured Spitfire deserved a few more minutes of remembrance. “I was told they were found in the kitchen—possibly locked in a lover’s embrace. Although, I can’t imagine knowledge such as that helps you too much.”

Spitfire exhaled what little breath she had left and straightened up in her seat. She stared at her sternly. “What is it you need from me, Your Highness?”

“I need your help to defeat a tyrant King.”

“You mean you need the help of the Wonderbolts, don’t you?”

Celestia paused. “Yes. I will need every one of you that are willing, if we’re to hope of standing a chance.”

Spitfire nodded. “I’m sure not a single member would want to miss out on this; this is something that’s effects us all, I’m sure.”

When Celestia heard Spitfire speak of such teamwork, she allowed a small sliver of hope to enter into her heart. “I wouldn’t be asking otherwise.”

“What’s the plan then?”

Celestia cleared her throat. “King Sombra is a creature of habit, and he’s already made it boldly known where he’ll be heading. At whatever cost he wants back the Crystal Empire. He’s already killed dozens of innocents, and I can only imagine he’ll still be traveling on that same path toward his destination.” Celestia hesitated with her next item. “So we need the Wonderbolts to necessitate a diversion.”

Although Spitfire did not make a single sound in response to the request, Celestia could tell it had hit the pony hard. Her eyes, originally containing a small flicker of energy, had clearly faded into deeper worry.

Celestia continued on regardless. “Between that road and the Empire—assuming that Sombra continues on said path—it includes only one more stop in a town. The town in question has already been evacuated, and now we want it to be filled with the Wonderbolts instead.”

“You want us to fight your dead King?” Spitfire shot back bluntly.

“No. That is the last thing I want. And that was never the idea. Too many have already died getting too close to him, which is why is it so imperative that the Wonderbolts are the ones to do this.”

Spitfire’s face was not one of understanding.

“I want you to stall him,” Celestia said. “I do not want a single pony even attempting to take him; I only want to put a bump in his step, however large or how small that might be. Since every member here is a seasoned flyer, I know you’ll make the right call when to retreat and pull back. The only reason I am finding need for this setup is to allow the rest of the Guard more time to get defenses primed at the Empire. Every minute Sombra wastes becomes another minute we gain.”

Spitfire nodded with a far away expression. “You mentioned earlier that you might need help there as well.”

“Yes, but not in such a major sense. We will only require a handful of your fliers to take as many as they can from Canterlot to the Empire through chariot. A good portion of our Royal Guard are either Earth pony or unicorn—meaning if they need walk to the Empire, the battle might already be over and done.”

Spitfire exited her desk—not all that enthusiastically. “I understand. And it will be done, Your Highness. Your fight is our fight, and now it seems like the fate of all of Equestria relies on us. But I’m not going to lie and tell you that something like that doesn’t scare me an awful lot.”

Celestia gave a weary smile. “Then you and I are of the same mind, Captain.”

Shining Armor had to crane his neck so far back to view him he almost felt his helmet tempting to bite into his neck. Keeping a steady pace with the draconequus, he told himself that in any case he would see this through to the end… no matter how much his current company was trying to prove on the contrary.

“I really like what you’ve done with the place!” Discord exclaimed, as he pushed another door open along their walk. “It’s like I know something’s different, yet I can’t put a finger on it.”

Shining had received a letter no more than thirty seconds before Discord arrived following it. The letter itself contained some of the heaviest and grimmest words he had laid eyes on in years—and somehow the representative from Canterlot he was being made to follow acted as though nothing at all was wrong.

Possibly because his magic could place him there that same day, Discord had been sent by the Princess for the soul reason of looking in on the Empire’s defenses. Although Shining, in all good conscious, always kept his Empire as battle ready as he deemed necessary, the sudden news of Sombra’s freakish return still sent more than a shiver down his spine.

How is it possible? he wondered, in those few seconds once he’d gotten that disparaging news. I watched him die. I watched him ripped to pieces.

Then he reminded himself he lived in a world of untold magic and creatures of every ilk that could fly and much more—so of course the reappearance of a tyrant would always remain in the cards. And still a part of him thought it could all be just whispers in the wind. That type of conclusion he prayed to be true.

Shining also prayed his delivered professional would be gone within the hour.

“Are you even listening to me, Shining?” Discord asked.

From his worries Shining stirred and once again angled his neck to look at the draconequus. “I am, Discord. But there is much else that weights on my mind at the moment. This news has come as quite a shock to the Empire, as you’d believe.”

“Does Princess Cadence know yet?”

“Yes. She was in the room when I received the letter. At the moment she’s informing the other guards of what’s developed.”

“Does anyone else know?”

Shining was sickened to find Discord almost sounding pleased with the current transpiring. He then had to remind himself that Discord was nothing more than the Lord of Chaos, and that such things were only in his nature. And yet another part of him wanted to shove his hoof far enough into the creature’s face that bones would break. Honestly, he never thought he’d forgive him after the Tirek incident…

“No. No one else is aware of what’s happened. If it’s actually happened. For all we know it could be some imposter posing as King Sombra—”

“Wouldn’t that make a good novel?” Discord cut in. “I’d call it ‘The King that wasn’t actually that King from before…’” He shrugged. “I’m not great with titles.”

Shining ignored the attempt at humor and pressed on with their tour. They had already been through the armory (Discord, for all realistic purposes, couldn’t tell if their supply left them in good standings), the main halls, the bunker, the hold, and now they were making their way down toward the basement, where a very unique item had been stored for years; it’s only visitors during that entire time being Cadence and Shining himself.

How many years since even I’ve seen it? Shining wondered. Since when was there a need?

“When do you plan on telling everyone else?” Discord asked, as he halted his stride in favor of lazily floating beside the pony. “You might want to clear out of the way first… that is if you don’t want to get trampled as everyone charges toward the exits.” He cleared his throat. “I know. I’ll help spread the word. King Sombra has returned! King Sombra has—”

“Quiet!”

Discord put a single finger to his lips, not at all ashamed from his outburst.

Shining put his head down and breathed deep. “The citizens of the Empire will stand together to defeat whatever evil is approaching. He was defeated once and so he can be defeated again. Unity was what saved us before, and I’m sure it will do the same this time—perhaps even stronger. The last time we faced King Sombra, the Crystal ponies had only awoken from their thousand-year long sleep. Now those same ponies live freely here—it is their home and no one else’s. If it really is King Sombra who is back, I think he may have more to worry about this time around.”

While he spoke Discord floated and nodded mere inches from his face, absorbing every detail with seemingly careful consideration. Shining tried his best to focus on the hasty tour at hoof and not at the pair of yellow and red eyes that seemingly begged to be admired. The only problem was that whenever Shining would avert his gaze, the draconequus would merely float to whatever new spot he was staring. Was he trying to get him mad?

“I hope you’re right, Shining. I do. I really do. But last time Sombra was nothing more than some black smoke that garbled a bunch and appeared menacing. From what I understand of the fellow, he’s decidedly stepped up his game.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Oh, you know. Rumors and such. You know how much they love to spread themselves.”

Shining grunted his answer and was happy to see they were nearing their last location. A few meters on he nodded for a guard to open another set of thick double doors only to come to a second set just steps later. A large circular symbol covered a good portion of the new doors.

“You’re going to need to look away, Discord. This isn’t for your eyes.”

Discord put an arm across his brow. “I’m hurt, Shining. After everything we’ve been through?”

“Especially after everything we’ve been through.”

Shining stood his ground until Discord placed both hands over his face. A moment later the edges of both eyes pushed themselves through the gaps in his fingers.

“I’m not laughing, Discord.”

Discord put his hands to his sides, for the first time looking honestly annoyed. “Do you ever?”

When Discord finally gave his back to him Shining placed a single hoof on the door and traced it around in a very particular manner. A small click told him the door had been unlocked, so he nudged it open.

Carefully perched on a white marble stand in the direct center of the room sat the Crystal Heart. The day after King Sombra’s initial attack, Cadence and himself had sealed it away in a location where most citizens and guards would be weary to trek. Also to keep it safe should some enemy come longing for it.

“Is that it?” Discord sneered, crossing both arms across his chest. “I came all this way for… that?”

Shining trotted closer to the Heart, admiring finally seeing it after however many years had passed. Had it always appeared so dull? he thought. I remember its color used to be mesmerizing. And then he remembered he was glimpsing it in a basement with complete lack of light. What particular item wasn’t going to look a little shabby under those conditions?

He turned back to Discord. “As you can plainly see, the Heart is fine and under strict guard. King Sombra would need to have something he hadn’t had before if he wants to come claim it.”

“What makes you think that’s what he’s after this time?”

Shining didn’t answer the question.

“Well, I’ve seen enough,” Discord said. “You’ve got the Heart. You’ve got… guards, I guess. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He was about to snap his fingers to vanish when Shining held a hoof out to stop him.

“Why does it seem like you know more than you’re telling, Discord?”

Still with his fingers in mid-snap, he grinned widely. “Believe you me, Shining, I know just as much as you. Sombra’s coming to town—with gifts aplenty, I’m sure. The only difference between you and I is that I view possible chaos in a vastly different light. We’re both going to save this Empire, Shining. Of that I am certain. Only I’ll be having a lot more fun doing so.”

On that note Discord snapped his fingers and vanished from the room, leaving Shining Armor with a lot more to think about than when he’d arrived.

Carefully in her hooves Rainbow Dash picked up her young son and tried to forget about the news that had just been passed down to her. With a gentle hoof she ran along his messy mop of multi-colored mane and tried to inform the rest of her that if such joy existed in this world like her little bundle of life, then surely the news that had just shattered her world a few hours ago must have been a mistake.

It must have… right?

Soarin had come home a few hours earlier than usual and Rainbow genuinely wondered if he’d left the rest of his enthusiasm back in the clouds. With barely an ounce of effort behind his voice he asked her to the bedroom. For the longest time he sat on the edge of their bed, his chin propped up by both of his hooves. Both eyes looked on the verge of tears.

“Do you remember some pony named Sombra?” he whispered, before going on.

But Rainbow Dash didn’t hear what else he had to say. With just that name—and just that vivid image that horrifically accompanied it—she felt as if all the air had been sucked from her lungs. One knee gave way and she leaned against their dresser for support. After a few hurried breaths she felt well enough to stand again, although the knot in her stomach told her to instead lay down on the floor to weep.

“Sombra,” she muttered. “King Sombra.”

The next twenty minutes between the pair faired no better, and eventually Rainbow was reduced to sitting next to Soarin on the bed, should her knees want to give again. That day at the Wonderbolts, Spitfire had gathered them all for a meeting with a very bleak tone. A few had already heard whispers of what was to happen (rumor had always been a hard animal to control, Soarin mentioned), but most members went in there unawares, and left almost colorless with what was to come.

The Princess of the Sun herself had asked the Wonderbolts for a favor. In an empty town near the gates of the Empire, they would station a diversion to try and buy the rest of the Royal Guard as much time as they could. The tactic, in Rainbow’s mind, sounded fine on paper. The only problem was her immediate attachment to such a plan.

“You can’t go,” she had said the first time, before repeating it throughout their conversation until the words seemed to lose some if not all of their meaning.

“It’s not a choice, Rainbow,” he said bluntly. “When the Princess asks something of you, you do it. When the Captain asks something of you, you do it. And I’m doing it. End of story.”

“So why can’t they do it without you?”

“If everyone in the Wonderbolts had that mentality Rainbow, then no one would go. We’re only as strong as our weakest link.” Soarin searched through his wayward mind to figure if what he’d said had made sense. When he deemed it had, he shook his head adamantly. “You also need to look at this from a larger perspective. If he takes the Empire, then what follows? Who’s to say that’ll be all he’ll want?”

“I do. I say that!”

Every new argument she brought forward felt weaker than the last. After a time her simple repartee became closer to sounding like some filly informing their parents they didn’t want them to go to work, simply because they’d miss them dearly. Although what stuck out most during that discussion was just how much it was making her feel like a coward. Delicately, Soarin had tried to explain that every Crystal pony that lived in the Empire would be put back to slavery or worse should Sombra succeed. The only problem that came with that argument was that Rainbow didn’t care about those ponies. She only cared about her family and little more.

Near the end of their discussion Soarin had lifted her head with a hoof to stare into her eyes. He tried to act much braver than his usual self. “You don’t need to worry about me. We’re not supposed to touch him, at all. Only stall him. Fly around and see if he’ll follow. Get his attention, call him names, anything to buy some time. But this plan will not end in a fight. I promise you.”

From that point on Rainbow meekly agreed with everything Soarin said after. Each word he spoke was meant to be reassuring, but each word just seemed to tumble around her head. The time spent before he was to depart (it was sadly only a few minutes later—Soarin said most other Wonderbolts would only be able to send a letter of explanation home) the pair lay in bed and said not a word. Not until one of their fillies made their voice known and Rainbow got up to greet them.

And now, in a far emptier home, Rainbow played with her kids and pretended everything was a whole lot better than it was. She had tried to understand what Soarin had told her. Really, she had. The only problem was that she was no ordinary mare, and this wife was not the type to nimbly sit by and wait for the danger to come find her.

So with that in mind she sat and wrote five near identical letters. And then using whatever extra bits she had laying around the home, she sent them out, not knowing if even a single one would be consummated. Then she went to the Empire.

Chapter 10: Together We Fall

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CHAPTER TEN:

TOGETHER WE FALL

Celestia pushed her way through one set of wooden doors before hurrying through another. As she glided along each area of the Empire bunkers, her focused eyes picked up on most every little detail.

The faces of far too many ponies appeared worried or closer towards terrified. The other half only seemed bored, as if the wait for their enemy to appear had already lost most of its appeal. She figured it was this half that had not heard the stories that were slowly making their way through the ranks. If she could have stopped the rumors before they’d started, she would have felt all the better for it. But there was still one rumor even she could not stop worrying about.

“Any word on Princess Luna or Princess Twilight?”

Celestia spoke with her chief executive near the corner of the room in hushed tones. He looked nervously around before slowly shaking his head.

“I see,” Celestia stated, before ushering off again.

Inside she felt as if a large rock had carelessly been dropped into a pool of cold water. It made her shiver despite the muggy heat in the cramped barracks. She turned to find her executive still lunging behind her. “How much of our Guard is here already?”

“Around eighty-percent.”

“And until the rest arrive?”

“A few hours at most.”

“Then that’s good.”

The notion that her Guard had already almost found their way to isolating the Empire off from the enemy caused her to think of Spitfire and the Wonderbolts all over again. Had she for no reason whatsoever sent them out into danger? She hoped it would have a purpose. She needed it to, truly. But wasn’t there something—

“The Crystal ponies,” the princess blurted unexpectedly, “how many did leave the city?”

Her executive thought for a moment. “Not many. Perhaps fifty at most—most of those families with young ones. The other four-hundred or so have chosen to stay in the Empire, either to fight or to remain in the holds with their families in the basements.” He pondered his next thought, unsure if he should make mention of it. “They haven’t given up hope, Princess. They believe you’ll stop Sombra, like you did before.”

Celestia nodded carefully at the sentiment. It was a beautiful one—she had no doubt it was—but somehow this time felt different than the rest.

She spoke a little louder than their hushed conversation a few rooms ago. “King Sombra will never claim this kingdom as his own.” When she noted the heads of a few Royal Guards turn in her direction, she surmised her statement had done its job. Then, wishing someone above even her would confess such reassuring words, she began her rounds once more.

Since she couldn’t fully trust her eyes with the image they were presenting, Rainbow Dash scrunched her face until tiny specks danced in her vision. Only when she knew the image to be completely true, did she finally approach.

“As nice a job as I think you might be doing, Rarity,” spoke the southern voice of Applejack, “I don’t think no jewels or accessories will stop no weapons.”

Rainbow entered the scene to find Rarity closely inspecting a suit of silver armor draped over a white body mannequin. Since entering the Empire, Rainbow had seen armor of every type and color, but this was the first one she saw that had small bits of purple and golden lace adorning its trim. As unnecessary as it was, Rainbow still greeted it with a grin.

Rarity said, “I don’t think anyone would dare hit this marvel once it’s done! I think they’d stop their abhorrent ways just to get a closer look at its finery.” Rarity raised her chin a few inches while slitting her eyes before returning to her work.

“You can wear that Rarity, but I wouldn’t be caught dead,” Rainbow said as she finally entered their little scene. “I’ll only be representing the Wonderbolts while I’m here.”

“Rainbow Dash!” they both exclaimed in surprise, before enveloping her in a hug.

Although Rainbow might have shied away from such vulgar displays of affection years prior, she greeted this one warmly and felt her heart skip a beat as she did.

When they pulled away she said, “Thank you both for coming. I didn’t know if anyone would, or even if they could, honestly.”

Both other ponies brushed the idea aside. “What choice was there, Rainbow Dash?” asked Applejack. “When Equestria’s in danger we come to save the day. As cheesy as that might sound.”

“What about Fluttershy or Pinkie Pie?”

“Fluttershy’s in the basement hold with most of the Crystal ponies and their families; trying to keep them calm with everything else going on up above.”

“Pinkie Pie?”

“She’s been nagging some official for the past few hours about her plans for the after party. I’m pretty sure we might find her in the waiting cells if she keeps it up much longer.”

Rainbow laughed at that. It sounded right on course. She said earnestly, “I’m shocked you all came, you guys. I really didn’t know who would show.”

Rarity nodded promptly. “Of course we would! I only might want to warn you that we might be a little rusty this time around… having been—what?—a decade since the last big baddy.”

Rainbow added, “I think that was Twilight’s work more than anyone’s.”

Both of her friends became silent after hearing that. Rarity looked up expectedly. “Any news of Twilight? Or Princess Luna?”

Rainbow shook her head quickly. “No. They’ve sent letters and even a few guards to track them down but this whole mess kinda’ started with little warning. We just need to give them time to get back. We do still have time. We should.”

“Twilight’s never let us down before,” Applejack added positively. “This won’t be the first time she starts. She’s never let trouble stand in her way. Never.”

The three friends nodded in collective agreement, all while Rainbow considered an entirely different assumption she had heard only minutes ago—the terrible notion that King Sombra had already laid waste to both Twilight and Luna together. And that the Empire would be overpowered and defeated and now their sole hope of survival rested in the patterned hooves of the Princess of the Sun. But that was just the talk between guards that had nothing left to talk about, she informed herself right after. It had been NOTHING but talk!

“Sombra wasn’t so bad before!” Applejack continued. “Wasn’t it even Spike that took him out? I think we’re worrying about nothing at all at this point. Heck, I’d be surprised if Sombra even gets here, after the Wonderbolts get through with him.”

Rainbow Dash shut her eyes instinctively from the name. Both of her friends pursed their lips when they knew they’d hit a raw nerve.

“I’m sorry sugar cube,” Applejack said, placing a hoof around her. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. What Celestia has them doing is nothing at all—just a distraction. Soarin’ll be fine and back before anything even happens. I guarantee it.”

Rainbow smiled at them softly, more for their benefit than her own. Then she went to face the rest of the barracks with its many ponies trotting from one location to the other, no face completely wanting to express that reassuring impression that surely tomorrow the sun would still come greet them. “I’m sure you’re right, Applejack. But something tells me this might not work out as easily as our other adventures.”

The first smell that pulled her from her tiredness was fresh vomit from that morning’s quick meal. Spitfire carefully walked to the side of the mess and out into the center of town. She had only been there for fourteen hours and yet already felt like she knew the place like a second home. Blueprints had been drafted of the entire stretch of land and the nimblest of the bunch had gotten to work on reinforcing its defenses. The only nagging thought on Spitfire’s mind was if Sombra had suddenly learned how to fly, after miraculously learning how to come back from the dead, too. The thought that usually followed that one was just why in Equestria he was sticking to the roads and not a more covert path towards his final destination.

Maybe he wants to show everyone what he can do, her mind added unhelpfully.

Spitfire trotted up the hard packed street and nodded at a few recruits as she went. Every one nodded in return and every one looked a lot more ill kept than their former selves. If Spitfire could find the one responsible for spreading such nasty lies throughout her ranks—such as the notion that Sombra had plucked the eyeballs off some pegasus—she would make them suffer most definitely (and to the book).

It was only when Spitfire nodded at the last worker on her line that she felt the pangs of guilt fill her gut.

“Soarin,” she greeted.

“Captain,” he answered, while awkwardly nailing another board across the now heavily-blocked entrance of town. “It’s going to be today, isn’t it? He’s waited long enough so he’s going to come today. I just know it.”

Although she could tell he was scared (but she knew they were all scared—and, honestly, at this point she thought she might become more worried about someone not scared) Soarin held back a good chunk of his inner turmoil out of view. It was only his eyes that let a little shine through—both pupils fidgeting from one location to the next in rapid succession.

“I know no more than you, Soarin,” she answered. “Only that we’ve got a job to do and that we’re going to see that’s it’s done in the best way possible.” She paused, trying to think of a better spin to her speech. “And never forget about all the other ponies that are counting on us. If Sombra gets by us, then he gets a chance at the rest of Equestria. Never in my mind did I believe the Empire would be his final goal.”

Soarin pondered for a second. “I thought we weren’t supposed to engage with the enemy?”

Spitfire examined down the road where she knew the enemy could come from at any time, then she muttered under her breath: “We’ll see about that.”

Having just arrived back home only minutes prior from visiting Canterlot, Twilight was more than a little taken back to discover a letter already awaiting her. Unlike her original apprehension at the letters received at the castle, she was pleased to find it off-white in color.

“Who’s it from?” Spike asked, after giving her ample time to open and read.

Twilight lowered it with an expression of befuddlement. “It’s from Luna. She says she’s coming for a visit, and soon.”

Spike set down her lone suitcase. “But you just saw her—no wait, no you didn’t, actually. But you were just in Canterlot!”

“I know. It’s odd.”

“What does she want?”

Twilight skimmed near the bottom of the note again, clarifying that what she thought she’d read really was what she had. “To talk about how I’ve been behaving lately.” She sank to the floor and crumpled the edges of the note in her hooves. All at once she felt on the verge of tears. “I didn’t mean to appear so hostile while I was there, it was just… it was just they wouldn’t understand what it is I’m doing!” In haste Twilight stood back up. “How could they understand? All those Princesses do all day is oversee the work of other ponies! Since when do they ever get their hooves dirty in the name of all things good?”

She waited for a response from Spike but he looked a little too nervous from this sudden outburst to potentially add another stick to the fire.

Twilight thought carefully. “My research is far more important than any fest or feast or meeting of some dignitary! Why should I be punished because they don’t understand that?”

With all that out in the open, Twilight heavily plopped herself on the couch with what remained of her crumpled note in hoof. A large lock of hair fell over her eyes and she blew at it angrily.

“You want me to send a letter back declining?” Spike said helpfully.

Twilight shook her head. “No. Knowing her she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Knowing her she’s probably on her way now.” It took a second for those words to sink in. “Probably on her way now?”

Twilight rose from the couch and hovered in the air, both hooves pressed against her cheeks. “We have to get started! We have to get ready for her!”

Spike scratched his head. “I thought you were mad at the Princesses?”

“I am! Of course I am!” she shouted. “But it doesn’t mean I won’t welcome the socks off either of them and show them a good time!”

“That kind of seems… unlike you, Twilight. The old you, sure. But the new you…?”

Twilight eyeballed him sluggishly. “I know! And I hope it shows her that I’m right as rain and then she can just take that fat message back to her sister and the rest of Equestria! I’ll make her think I’m so right in the head that she’ll have no problem with my continued studies!”

Only when Spike seemed all out of conjecture did he shrug and ask, “So what do we do?”

Spitfire had called an emergency assembly in the center of town once she’d figured no more preparation could be done that day. As she spoke she trotted up and down the first row of cadets, admiring the stern composure apparent on each of their faces. She only knew if her words were to falter now or her legs show the slightest sign of quivering, she would loose them all before the enemy even came upon them. With that in mind she spoke what she had been contemplating all that morning.

“I do not completely understand what rumors have been passing from the mouths of some to the rest of you, but I do not remember giving those rumors permission to enter the thoughts of my cadets. Whatever you might have heard is nothing but words in air. I myself could make up a story of depravity and whisper it to another, but that does not make it true. Not in the slightest.

“What this speech is trying to reinforce is that, at this time, we know close to nothing about out enemy. I do not say this to make you worry about our lack of foresight, only to put this ‘Sombra’ in a clearer light. He may in fact be some imposter of some old King or he may—miraculously—be the real deal. Either or it doesn’t matter. By Princess Celestia’s order we came here and we will stay here until we hear otherwise. All of Equestria rides on what most likely happens today.”

She hesitated for the first time since started. The next topic she had always left up for debate.

“When speaking with Princess Celestia, she informed me that our sole job was to distract and—if possible—delay our enemy. We were asked to not engage with him, whatsoever. I…” She hesitated. “…have a different understanding of it. If we can stop Sombra today, then and only then will I consider my assignment as complete. If the fate of everyone rests on what we can accomplish, then I say we destroy the enemy as only the Wonderbolts can.”

Her words hung in the dry, warm air. Not a single cadet spoke or made motion to their neighbor. They had been trained to be the best and this was only a small portion of what they were made of.

“If you wish to leave then you may with no penalty in place,” Spitfire continued. “I only ask that you think long and hard before you do so. With that said, who will stay with me?”

Half a second barely passed before every hoof of every member shot into the air. If Spitfire had not been forged from heavy and hard materials, she might have even gotten teary-eyed by the sight.

“With that said, I’ll—”

“Someone’s coming! Someone’s coming!”

Instantly Spitfire was in the air and charging toward the pony that had just screamed out the warning. Without a word he handed a pair of binoculars to the mare and she viewed the long dirt road ahead.

Since the day was several degrees more than hot it caused a shimmer on the horizon. Even through the distorted waves Spitfire caught sight of that mane of thick black hair most instantly. Slowly, lazily, the figure came into focus and she began to make out every odd garment he wore. Cape. Crown. Armor. If this should somehow still be some bizarre imposter, Spitfire had to hand it to their eagerness to follow-through. It was only when she glimpsed his warped red horn that her willingness to believe in the reincarnation of the real Sombra came to a head.

“That’s it? That’s why we’re here?”

The hushed voice of a colt to the left of her. She ignored it for the time being.

“It’s just one pony. How does he possibly think he’ll get through all of us?”

Just as Spitfire was very close to chewing out the disruptive cadet in her ranks, another far more serious sight caught her attention. As Sombra grew steadily closer and closer to their barricade at the head of town, he swiftly evaporated into the earth with nothing but a black ring of smoke to mark where he’d been.

The same colt from before. “Was that it? Was—”

And that’s when the ground began to quake, and Spitfire first realized she might have made a mistake in coming here.

At 12: 28, Luna arrived at Twilight’s small cabin home at the edge of the woods. On the door was a hoof-written note from Twilight, letting her know she had gone out to Baltimare to get some supplies for her stay. Near the end it added how nice it would be if they were to meet at a local restaurant to help kick off her visit. Although Luna had never been to the aforementioned restaurant before, she knew locating such a place should prove simple enough.

At 12: 32 the note adorning Twilight’s door changed its writing back to what it had originally stated.

At 2:15, when Twilight became more and more pensive on just where her visiting Princess might be and why she was not at the restaurant just yet, she asked a colt at a table nearby for the time. The colt in question then looked at one of his forelegs before discovering that his watch had suddenly gone missing. But hadn’t he checked the time not ten minutes ago? Before he could say anymore on the subject, Twilight exited the restaurant (with Spike carefully in step) in search of Luna.

At 1:08 Luna arrived at the restaurant secondarily stated and asked if Princess Twilight had made them a reservation. At first the maitre d’ eyed her up like some magically appearing golden statue, but when he scanned his reservation book (and then again and once more), his face sunk in a flash. “We don’t have anything under that name, but let me check with the back of the house.” Once out of sight behind the swinging doors at the rear of the place, Luna heard a racket of smashed plates and then nothing else. After a few seconds of speculative silence she left the restaurant in search of Twilight.

At 1:45 the maitre d’ of that fancy restaurant would awaken to find a nasty bump on his head as well as a bill for three-hundred bits to cover the cost of the plates he had (for some irregular reason) spilled. But more importantly he would wonder just where his entire back-of-house staff had suddenly disappeared to.

At 3:30 Twilight returned home in a far fouler mood than when she had left. Strongly pushing open the door, she viewed the same note from before and honestly wondered what had gone wrong. With these fervent thoughts in mind she began to organize her latest purchases in the kitchen, all the while keeping an ear out for the possible hoofsteps of Luna.

At 2:33, when Luna was certain not a single pony had seen a purple alicorn in Baltimare that day (although each one she had asked had held that queerly-same look of bewilderment and surprise of being out of their house at all), she went back to the edges of the Hayseed Swamps to perchance find Twilight back at home. Once she’d knocked and waited a good while, she pushed in and sat silently in the living room, careful not to touch any work Twilight might currently been in the midst of.

At 2:28, as Luna made her way to Twilight’s cabin, a second cabin of completely identical nature made its debut a hundred yards closer to the mare. Luna, already tired from that day’s lackluster lack of meeting, took no notice of the switch.

At 4:39, Twilight found the waiting game too much of a nuisance for her, so with a few things in her bag she headed back toward the center of Baltimare. As she figured it, if Luna was still out searching for her or had arrived at the restaurant far later than expected, she might as well try to do something of the same sort. Only when she arrived in the city did she note something a whole lot stranger than a missed lunch.

At 4:44, after Luna had carefully flipped through another of Twilight’s thick and heavy books before returning it just as such, she grew restless and went for a walk into town. Just as she was about to label the new Twilight as a possible pony of unsavory character, she finally caught sight of the alicorn standing in the town’s central square.

“There you are, Twilight Sparkle!” she nearly yelled in relief. “The day has been long with searches and lack of luck, but finally I have found you. When does our research begin?”

Luna smiled at the younger alicorn and found only a startled face in return.

A dawning of clarity rose in Twilight’s head. It was like trying to put a puzzle together in the thick of fog. “You came all the way here to see my research?” she questioned distantly.

Luna was taken back. “Why yes. When I received your letter I came right away. Why would I not?”

Twilight remained silent a moment, her wide eyes staring down every avenue that intersected with the center of Baltimare. “Because I never sent you a letter. And because I got a letter from you, saying you were coming to talk with me about the actions of my latest visit.”

Inside Luna something large had shifted and both eyes widened in horrified understanding. Why hadn’t she seen it before? How could she not see it right now? It had been all around her, changing throughout the day. And now, only as she viewed down each and every deserted street of Baltimare, did it all click together.

“Why is every pony inside, Twilight?” she asked, while not completely wanting an answer.

“I’m not sure, Princess,” Twilight said softly, “but I think we’ve been tricked.”

“Has anyone seen Discord?”

Celestia hastily shouted at a group of guards as they rushed her by. Each gave a quick salute before all telling her they had not. It was odd, she found. Discord had been around just a few moments ago—and wouldn’t all this near chaos warrant him to stick around, and close by?

Thirty-minutes prior and Celestia found herself in something she’d wish she’d never need put on again. It was her armor—its many bits and pieces complete with over-sized helmet and symbols. In the clear sun, every inch of hammered gold steel shined with a near glowing radiance. But as mesmerizing as its sight might have been for spectators, they would never need to know what it was like to wear such heavy things.

For what felt like the tenth time in just a short amount of space, Celestia shrugged her shoulders and each leg in an attempt to make her armor fit more comfortably. A moment later she informed herself perhaps armor should never feel comfortable.

Awkwardly she turned her heavy head to her executive by her side, also in less detailed armor of silver and white. Already he knew what she was going to ask. Already he shook his head in return. Twilight and Luna had still not arrived, she thought coldly, but Sombra couldn’t have been the one to delay them, right? Not now. Not while his Empire stood waiting…

And just as every Guard had nearly made their way to their assigned stations, did a single pegasus make themselves known in the middle of the cloudless blue sky.

Celestia’s first reaction was to panic and alert the guards, but an abrupt peek at the flyer’s suit put a sudden halt to such notions. It was one of the Wonderbolts, she could tell. And by that craze of mane on their head—

So why are they flying so poorly?

The pegasus in question tried their best to keep in a semi-straight line, but every few flaps of their wings would only send them off kilter and closer to the ground. A few meters from the gates and the Wonderbolt gave up the task, crashing into the dirt with alarming speed.

Even before the flyer fell from the sky, Celestia was already bolting outside. A few cried for her to stop—that a trap could be waiting—but she paid them no mind. As she neared the downed pegasus, her worst fears came to light. The cadet had not just been any Wonderbolt at all, but the Captain herself.

As Celestia went to her side Spitfire slit open her heavy eyes. Through bloodstained teeth she whispered: “We failed.” And then she said no more.

With something quite warm and heavy beating behind both eyes, Celestia took a step back and finally noted just why the mare had been flying as she had. Three large and blackened spikes protruded from Spitfire’s chest and side—a material similar to hardened glass. Although she wanted a moment to grieve for her fallen subject (just a moment, just ONE SINGLE moment, she wanted to scream) the darkened clouds that began to eat away at her perfect blue sky promptly pulled her away from such actions.

Levitating what remained of Spitfire to the courtyard inside the gate, she ordered a guard to place her inside and to be careful. At a time like this it was the least she could do.

And then, with her several hundred strong, she stood and faced the black that was steadily making its way towards them, all the while silently waiting for that miracle that thousands more were currently waiting for, too.

Chapter 11: The Empire Part One

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CHAPTER ELEVEN:

THE EMPIRE PART ONE

“Seal the gate! Seal the gate!”

Celestia was surprised to find another courageous voice in the deafening silence since the body of Spitfire had been carried away. For a long time—far, far too long a time—she had only stared transfixed upon the sky. The thick, dark clouds that blew their way seemed to coat every last inch of color in the distance.

Had it felt this big before? she honestly questioned, before remembering that last time Twilight and all her friends had been present and accounted for with defending their world. But that had been years ago. And now it needed to be Celestia who would find the strength inside herself to—

“Celestia!”

Her executive again, shouting directly in her ear.

“What’s your first order? Ponies are already starting to panic!”

Celestia regarded her executive with a calm face. “We seal the gate. Now.”

Since Spitfire had fallen from grace only moments prior, each and every pony near the large entryway had become deathly still. Celestia did not need to speak loudly for her words to ring clearly.

“Seal the gate!”

A voice atop the wall agreed, and then Celestia watched the impossibly tall stone doors slowly start their sluggish swing inwards. It had been only a few years following the first return of King Sombra that tall and thick crystal walls had been erected around the entire city. At the time, many claimed the expenditure of such a project as ridiculous and wasteful. Should the Empire hold true that day, Celestia would have more than a few words to express to those individuals of note.

“You think the gate will stop him?”

It was her executive again. And by the way his quill and parchment shook most vividly in his hooves, she could tell he was looking for more than a few reassuring words to tide him over this time. Sadly, those words would need to wait.

Kicking hard off the ground Celestia took to the air and sprinted to the watcher’s peak at the very center of the gates. Her armor made the flight markedly more fatiguing than it aught to be, and for the second time that day she cursed her silver and gold shell.

“What do we know?” she asked, once she’d safely landed beside a guard.

The guard lowered his viewfinder. “Nothing yet, Your Highness. Only black clouds circling in all directions.”

Celestia had been so preoccupied with the road ahead that she barely took into account the surrounding areas. Truly, the dark screen that had enveloped the far distance had now done the same all the way around the Empire. It almost seemed as if a wall of black had been erected between the earth and the sky.

Without the sun, the day grew cold.

“This was what it was like before,” Celestia said, more to herself than anyone. “He was more a spirit than a pony last time. Let us hope the rumors of his rebirth to be greatly exaggerated.”

Minutes lazily swam by as most guards fiddled with their armor. Most eyes followed the swirling black that circled above them ominously.

“What is he—” Celestia began.

“He’s here! I see him! I see him!”

A pegasus a few meters away trumpeted his find as Celestia levitated her viewfinder. Carefully up the road she scanned until she came upon him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought oddly, If he hadn’t have been wearing his cape I might have missed him entirely.

The dark stallion, complete with bits of silver armor, walked up the long and thin road toward the Empire, and nearly disappeared in the world of black that seemed to follow him in step. Instead of eyeing up the wall that had not existed since he’d last been there, his eyes remained fixed on the gate ahead. Celestia was slightly perturbed to notice he did not smile or appear angry in the slightest. Only focused, as though his time had come.

“So it’s true,” she said, and this time it was for her ears only. Maybe to finally convince herself the nightmare was real. And that it was only getting started.

Several meters outside the gate Sombra stopped his march. With flaming green and purple eyes he watched both sections of the doors as if they should suddenly start to move on their own.

Was he expecting us to just let him in?

By that point Celestia had already ordered her archers and spear-ponies to the edges of each walkway overlooking the entrance. Each sharpened point was now directed at the single target standing idle by their gates.

To some pony just walking onto the scene, it must have looked preposterous.

When enough time had passed and Sombra must have realized the gate was not about to bid him welcome, he slowly craned his head up until stopping on Celestia. In reflex she shivered, and then clenched her jaw.

“King Sombra!” she bellowed out. “The lives of too many have already been destroyed by you, and this kingdom has already felt as much of your rule as it will take. We have dealt with you under worst circumstances than now and we can do so again. You are outnumbered and you are overpowered. Should you relent this rampage you are so destined to see through, I will personally see to it that you are judged for your actions fairly. If you continue to try to harm and mutilate my subjects, then you will be put down as promptly as you were before. And this time I will make sure another return is never made possible.”

Although her words rang out sure and steady, Celestia was startled to find the hoof resting on the walkway jitter and shake. With some effort she forced it to halt.

“It is good to hear your voice again, Celestia,” Sombra said resoundingly, from all those feet below. “I had been worried I might have missed you somehow, in all those years I was away.”

Celestia had not brought her viewfinder back to her eyes, yet still, even from that distance, she could tell a smile have finally found its way to his lips.

“I hope you have that unicorn conspirator in there, too, Celestia. I have wanted to see them almost as much as you.”

“Twilight Sparkle is not in the Empire, Sombra. But you will be stopped regardless.” Celestia was about to add that Twilight would be arriving at any moment, but she decided not to rely on such a lie. Also, what message would that have sent to the rest of the Guard? That all their fates might rest in the hooves of someone not even in the city?

Sombra said, “The purple one is not the pony I seek, Celestia. I make mention of the one you contracted to keep me locked away inside that cave… for those ten long years.”

Desperately she tried to fathom just what is was Sombra was trying to make clear to her—her only other recourse was to believe since his re-existence he’d gone completely mad. She continued on all the same. “You have no army Sombra; you have no allies. You are but one pony with magical gifts and a heart most black. Even you, in whatever state you are in, should realize the odds are stacked against you today.”

Sombra regarded her tiredly, before changing his view to the many guards standing motionless to both sides of her. Each one he took in. Each one made him appear all the more sickened.

“You take my Empire and tell me it is no longer mine,” he nearly growled. “You close its doors in my face and tell me I may not enter. I am the King of this land and now you are denying me my kingdom. All this, Celestia, you have done. But there is one thing you may never take away from me. And that is every Crystal pony that resides in this city. They were mine and they will remain as mine.

“You claim I lack an army, Celestia. So now I will show you the full extent that fear can accomplish. An area you seem most tepid to utilize.”

A moment later Sombra’s red and warped horn became engulfed in a thin white light. Just as Celestia was about to give the command to loose every weapon primed, a voice cut across the city in a most unnatural way. Sombra’s voice.

“To all of my Crystal ponies waiting in fear of whatever outcome this battle may end upon, I, King Sombra—your rightful ruler and lord—come bearing a gift of words.”

Across the entire Empire, Sombra’s voice came through as clearly and as loud as though he were standing mere inches from every one of them. In each basement and each hold that ponies crammed themselves together to wait out the battle above, his voice rang most lucid and terrifying. Many Crystal ponies that could remember his voice (and a great many few that still couldn’t) shook with terror and tried to cover their ears from the sound. But it seemed as though nothing could shield them from it.

“An alicorn Princess by the name of Celestia has claimed this kingdom as her own,” he continued. “Not only is this fact a fallacy of the highest order, but each and every one of you should realize this as well. This same usurper claims I have no army to call my own. But is that entirely true, my subjects?

“When I take back my Empire, each Crystal pony will find themselves punished accordingly to what happens here today. If at the end it means torture and death, is up to you. Should my Crystal ponies rise up now and aid me in my quest today, they will find themselves in a far greater group than those that merely sat by and waited for me to come find them.

“I cannot guarantee a lack of punishment for every one of you that have betrayed me, but I can promise it will be a great deal better than any other alternative. So I will ask—only once—for my Crystal ponies to come rise and fight with me today. But mark my words: be it by your own will or by force, you will fight.

“So while there is still time, come out and help rid this land of its unwelcome Princess.”

Sombra’s horn returned to its neutral colors and the voice digging into many ponies’ ears came to a close. For a time Sombra glared at each guard once more, now more interested in the few Crystal ponies that stood out above the rest.

Although Celestia had been trying her best to keep her eyes on the enemy far down below, she too, couldn’t help but glance at the Crystal guards to her sides. Could Sombra’s words really have changed all that much in their minds?

From the thickness of a group near the stairs, a single Crystal unicorn made their way to the front. With both forelegs on the edge of the wall, he said, “I will never fight for you!” while every pony in back of him cheered. Then he spat over the side.

And that was the linchpin that started the rest of the scorn. One after the other, Crystal ponies of each make and creed came to the edge of the wall to let Sombra know his side was a side no one would be choosing that day.

“You’re a monster!”

“You should have stayed dead!”

“I’d rather die than side with you!”

“The Empire was never yours!”

Each taunt and each jab Sombra appeared to take in stride. Each time a new face made their way to the edge of the gate, Sombra would view them curiously. If it was merely his way of keeping mental note of each and every Crystal pony that cursed his name, Celestia would never be certain.

A dozen or so of these abusive statements later, Celestia raised a hoof to calm her Guard. On reflex, each one returned to their defensive positions. “As you can plainly see, Sombra, the Empire is not for the taking, and neither are its subjects. You have no friends here and you have no place in this city; in this kingdom or anywhere else in Equestria.”

Sombra’s eyes came to her once again. “But about that you are wrong, Celestia. I have always been apart of this Empire. Even when it was first built by my design did I use pieces of myself to help solidify its foundations. And even now those pieces call to me. They want to be near me again.”

The idea that the King had gone mad sometime ago entered her mind again.

Sombra continued, “The Crystal ponies have made their answer quite clear—they will not fight for me of their own accord.” Already Celestia was feeling uneasy of where this might be headed. “And to them I will only say: pity.”

The Empire candy shop owner Honey Glaze could sadly do nothing more than get close and hug his family as the booming voice of King Sombra somehow filled each one of their ears. In between every pause of his speech, he reassured his children that it was only a voice that was in the room with them, and that the creature that owned that voice would surely never get in.

Honey Glaze, together with a few hundred other Crystal ponies and more, sat listening and waiting in one of the Empire’s sprawling basement rooms. Most ponies crammed together were either laborers or specialists—ponies that would more likely get in the way of the Guard than actually help. When Sombra finished his speech requesting the aid of his Crystal ponies, Honey Glaze found himself a tad ashamed to timidly glance around the room, should someone desperate enough very well take up his call.

“They wouldn’t,” he whispered, before viewing the wide and alarmed eyes of many other watchers searching the basement. When not a single one stood up to make it known they had subsided, more than a few smiles found their way amidst worn-down faces.

It was only a few seconds following that brief moment of positivity that a large series of black rivets from the edges of the woodwork seemed to melt like candle wax. The same thing happened to a lamp on the wall; the heavy iron bars that crisscrossed over the narrow windows up above. Not many ponies took it to mind. And those that did only watched with growing curiosity.

The liquid metal—now more like some pitch black tar—slowly slunk its way along the floor, weaving around grooves like some sentient being. When the Crystal pony known as Honey Glaze finally witnessed the odd mixture, it was little too late.

“What the hell did I step in?” he said, while giving his back leg a shake.

The slick darkened material had enveloped his whole hoof and was now coursing its way up the rest of his leg. If that sight alone was not enough to elicit some yelps of terror, perhaps it was the biting cold that seemed to emit from it—instantly numbing every bit of flesh that it touched.

Honey Glaze rose fast and began stomping his partially coated leg against the ground. “Oh Celestia! What is that! Someone help! Someone help!” But as he turned to look for some savior in the bunch, his fright only intensified. It appeared as if it was not just him that was dealing with the blackened tar. Dozens of other Crystal ponies were already screaming and thrashing for the cold material to shake off their bodies, but to no avail. It only climbed and climbed; covered and sealed.

A lone Crystal pony standing at the back of the room (probably closest to the rivets that had melted first) had nearly been covered over. The only part of her that remained was her head, which carried the vacant look of someone far beyond the first few stages of fright. It’s almost like she’s accepted what’s happening, Glaze thought numbly. When the dark material sealed away the rest of the Crystal mare’s head, it formed itself into pointed edges—the grotesque death mask of some pony, shaped with diamonds of crimson red where their eyes and mouth should have been. Only Glaze had never known a pony with teeth quite so sharp, or eyes quite so dead. When the armor around the mare hardened and set (was THAT what it was? ARMOR? Glaze thought) the wrapped Crystal pony broke free of her paralysis and lunged toward a shuddering group of earth ponies in the corner.

But Glaze would never know just what happened after that.

In his inactivity while viewing the rest of the room, the black mixture coursing up his leg had found its way to his neck, and now onto his face. One last time he wanted to scream—maybe to show the others that this wasn’t by choice—but the cold that had cocooned him took what little air remained. When his vision was overrun with black it was then replaced with a warped faded red. He watched himself move forward, not at all under his own accord.

He screamed inside the soundproof suit: “Somebody stop this! I don’t want this! Someone help me!”

What dried the words in his throat was when he took a step in the direction of his family.

“Where is he? Where is Sombra?”

Celestia had her back turned for the smallest of moments to check on her position, only to find her enemy had vanished from the gate.

She turned to the guards around her and stared daggers at one. “I don’t know!” he eventually stammered out. “He disappeared into the ground! Right into the path!”

Celestia returned to the thin road leading in and noted a wispy thread of smoke still clinging to the ground. A few more bits led toward the gate. “If he enters, he will die,” she promised herself.

She leapt from the gate and landed gracefully near a throng of earth pony guards. All were posed to strike and all eyes were fixed on the gate. The only problem was Celestia legitimately did not know if the gate area was their sole target anymore.

“Stand ready!” she yelled, holding aloft her own white sword with her horn.

Again the noise in the courtyard fell to a murmur. Eyes searched the sky and the ground both, anxious to find their enemy. Only a single set of hooves trotted against the dirt, and a moment later Celestia’s executive was by her side.

“What are your orders, Your Highness?”

Celestia didn’t face the colt, only continued her wide-eyed stare of everything she could glimpse. He could come from anywhere…

She hurriedly said, “Nothing. We are waiting.”

Then she noted the hint of black dirt by her hooves.

The executive said, “Oh. Sounds—” But that was as far as he got, before a thin blackened spike shot from the ground, forcefully driving itself through his neck and pinning him to the rock wall behind. He only twitched for a moment, both hooves still wrapped tight around his quill and parchment; the parchment in question suddenly ruined by the sudden spatter of blood.

Celestia wanted to feel sorrow. More so than that, she wanted to feel mad for the pony’s life cut horrifically short. But the growing patch of darkened soil underneath her told her she had to fly. And now.

Six feet off the ground she felt something stab at her wing. Another long black shard of glass, barely a glancing blow. A couple white feathers fell to the ground and Celestia cried out, “Everyone off the ground!” while rising a few more meters in the air.

Using her magic she grabbed a few earth ponies in the bunch and levitated them to the safety of the stairs. But for every one that made it out of the yard, another few were impaled by the dark spikes that propelled from the earth with hideous accuracy. A few pegasus took to the air only to find a leg stabbed right through, before being pulled back to the ground with another half-dozen spikes through their body.

Celestia knew there was nothing that could be done for them.

“King Sombra!” she yelled. “This is cowardly, even for you!”

Steadily she lowered herself to the ground, while a dozen voices screamed at her to stay in flight.

She landed gingerly and carefully watched the color of the dirt. “If you want a fight worthy of you then come and face me!”

An area of earth a few meters ahead first became dark before moving toward jet black. Swiftly, a cloud of smoke rose up before drifting away, leaving Sombra in its wake. For a moment he kept his head to the ground, before finding the eyes of Celestia.

“You speak of cowardice, Celestia?” he questioned. “I would never lock my enemies away for ten years with nothing more than an idle idiot for company. If our roles were reversed, I would have gladly given you an honorable death in its place.”

Celestia pressed her front hooves into the dirt. “Whatever might have happened to you before today, I had no part of. The fight you bring to us is your fight only—started by you.”

“I honestly would have been surprised if you had admitted the truth here today, Celestia. I know in front of your guards, your image is of the most importance. Perhaps when the time comes and we speak in a more…. pressing manner, you will finally cleanse yourself of your falsehood.”

Celestia spat: “I’m done trying to reason with some mad King.” Then she rushed out to greet him.

With all her fury she brought down her sword and felt it connect with soft dirt. A dark vapor was all that remained of him.

She whirled around just in time to connect with a blackened spear hurled her way; the horn that controlled that weapon was blood red and curved. “Your battle etiquette could use some readjusting,” he said plainly. “I fondly remember our battle years ago. You, Luna, and I. That was a fair fight. Where is your dear sister now? I was hoping to glimpse her once last time…”

While he spoke, Sombra sent his spear hacking and slashing into her, pushing her closer to the rock wall at the other edge of the courtyard. Barely did she manage to connect with each strike—barely did she counter back with any grace at all. Was he always this strong? she wondered, before dimly remembering that the last time they sparred she had had the assistance of another.

“We can’t let the Princess fight on her own!”

A voice from above.

Celestia turned to watch a pegasus leap out off the ledge, weapon in hoof. He screamed a guttural battle cry and drove his weapon downward onto Sombra. A few inches above his crown was where his weapon came to a halt. The pegasus’ original look of adrenaline was now mixed with sudden dismay.

“Excuse me a moment,” Sombra said to her, before disappearing in a huff.

Behind the pegasus he reappeared, glaring up at him.

“That was impolite,” he said.

Sombra barely pointed his horn at the poor pegasus before his helmet spun right around, his head coming along for the ride. His limp body fell to the ground and Sombra eyed it briefly. He hovered his spear by his side and watched the Princess.

“Where were we?”

As much as Celestia wanted to back away from such unnatural evil, she instead charged forward, her sword creating rushing figure-eights in the air. Only out of the corner of her eye did she see the oddest of sights: A pony clad in dark, glass-like armor. By why would someone ever wear such a thing? Then she saw the other one, and the other behind it. And in the back of her mind she honestly wondered: Where in Equestria is Discord?

Chapter 12: The Empire Part Two

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CHAPTER TWELVE:

THE EMPIRE PART TWO

Discord nudged the mirror a few more inches to the right and felt he had it just right that time. The pony that was currently holding the mirror atop his head looked as though he wished much of the same.

Discord stuck out a thumb to help level. “Close,” he mumbled, before readjusting for the seventh time.

His pedestal trumpeted, “I’m hearing a lot of noises outside! I think we need to get out there!”

Discord rolled his eyes. “I’m sure the big baddies will still be around when we join them. I don’t think they’d start the party without me, in all good conscious.” He paused. “And this is important! So stand still.”

He froze the guard pony in place while he continued to refigure his mirror. When he felt it was just so he pulled out a small box from a pocket that had no place in his side and opened it to reveal two large blue contacts. He placed one on the tip of one finger and leaned closer to the glass.

“Don’t you just hate it when you’re touching your eyes and you can’t help but open your mouth?”

The guard pony only kept still and silent.

“Oh never mind.”

Discord finished with both lenses and then viewed his finish word. It was an odd sight to say the least, going from eyes of red and yellow to a naturalistic baby blue. Now he’d need to see who’d take notice.

He snapped the mirror away. “Thanks friend. Now what did we do here again?”

The guard was about to answer when he stopped to give his head a sudden shake. “Didn’t we talk about the battle?”

“That’s exactly right!” Discord exclaimed. “Speaking of… maybe you should go join in the fun!”

The guard pony anxiously nodded before trotting away, leaving Discord alone in the corridor.

“Now where to next?” he mused.

Shining Armor was in the midst of debriefing a few dozen of his men in the bowels of the Empire when the noises first found him. As they first arrived and then grew too loud to ignore, he witnessed his battle trained warriors return momentarily to just ponies in armor. He wanted to add a word of advice or a line of courage, but every moment spent inside was another that allowed Sombra access to his land.

“I thought we’d have more time,” he said, before lowering his helmet and gathering his spear. Once he began his hurried trot down the hall, it was immediately followed by the steady rhythm of a few dozen more. Just that sound alone steadied the heart of the stallion.

When he rounded the first corner he charged toward to next set of doors, only to find himself halting prematurely. “The noise… that sound.” He viewed over the heads of his squadron to find that the noise from earlier had died away slightly. He moved through the thick of his squad and once more he found the sound.

Only the sounds of battle were not coming from outside.

He rushed the other way and his heart dropped when he discovered the origin of the noise. It was coming from the basement room where they had sheltered every pony and Crystal pony that would be of no use to them in the fight. Families. Fillies. The elderly. They had hid them in there to be safe. They had hid them in there to stay away from the danger…

“Brrk!”

Something large and heavy mashed against the double set of wooden doors, bending it at its middle. Glancing at the splintered wood, Shining could tell a few more hits is all it would take to topple over. But it’s locked from the inside, he thought oddly. Why wouldn’t they just remove the bar over the door?

Another hollow bang echoed through the hall and he put his thoughts on hold. A moment later he got into a defensive stance and each pony behind him did the same. The next hit sent the doors peeling outward and the first image Shining discerned almost made him want to turn away.

One on top of the other, each black armored pony clamored to exit the basement room ahead of the previous. If there was still a section of door in their way, they hammered at it with their hooves or their head until their glass-like armor nearly split and cracked. The ones at the very top of the heap used every leg to gain traction over the rest, like some hill of excited ants. They seemed to move without pause—without hesitation or appearance of fatigue.

“Sombra has an army?” a pony several feet behind exclaimed.

“How did he get them inside? What kind of magic does—”

But that was when the first of the darkened creatures touched the ground outside the doors; its chipped and damaged surface somehow more frightening than a perfect set. It doesn’t care if it gets hurt, Shining figured, while barely taking his eyes off his irregular foe. Possibly most shocking of all, were the shards of red diamonds scattered along its face, creating the appearance of some metallic equine. Each bit of crimson seemed to burn from the inside.

The first one over the splintered hole in the door huffed out a small batch of flames between its sharpened metal teeth. Then it charged and Shining went to go meet it.

Full of equal parts fright and adrenaline, the tip of Shining’s spear shook heavily once it rebounded off his foe. The damage to the dark pony looked minimal at best—a faint crack around its side. A second later and Shining was head-butted into a wall, most of his air knocked away in the process.

When he would think of this moment months onward, the part that affected him most was not the gang of black ponies climbing over one another for a chance at his guards; it was instead the brief view he took as he was knocked into the wall, of the dozens of families still trapped inside that room with those monsters, many driven to the edges of the room or circling in the rafters. And of course all the blood that came with it.

When Celestia first made contact with the lead blackened pony, she nearly fell over from its strength. Honestly, she had not expected such force from such a lithe creature. Gritting her teeth, she pushed back and slashed at its throat with the edge of her sword. A chunk of armor slipped out and fell to the ground.

She had given everything behind that blow. And that was all it did.

How could Sombra have summoned such beasts?

Just as the notion swam its way into her mind, she was bombarded by a whole thick of dark ponies. Instead of attacking with any unseen weapon, they only rammed their sharpened heads into her sides and upraised forelegs. Her armor, barely an hour old, already boasted the tale of a miserably long battle.

“Enough!” she screamed, while creating a small shield around her horn. With another grunt of effort she widened it until it smashed against the enemy, sending a half dozen into the air. When they hit the ground she heard the tinkling of breaking glass. She pulled in deep bales of air and searched for Sombra.

“A peasant such as you should be grateful for such a death.”

Celestia could only watch as Sombra held another pegasus in mid-air, his sword forever trapped just inches from him. With one hoof Sombra motioned forward and the pegasus flew backward into the stairs, leaving his dripping wings behind.

“Sombra!” she called.

He turned an angry face and smiled once he caught sight of her.

She spoke while walking towards him. “Your fight is not with them but with me!”

Slowly Sombra shook his head. “No. No, Celestia. Anyone in my Empire I do not wish to be there is, in fact, also my enemy. Each and every betrayer here will feel the wrath of a King today. My only hope is you will still live to watch as they fall. This is something you cannot stop, Celestia. Not this time. It is destiny.”

“You are mad. And you are alone, Sombra.”

“Then why does it not feel that way?”

He quickly glanced to his left, causing Celestia to look in turn. A wall of black cut out the city’s dire tones and a blunt force collided into her. While she spoke with Sombra a group of blackened ponies had crept along side her. Now they were continuously ramming into her; their full-face helmets becoming more and more splintered as each hit created a new series of fissures. Celestia grew alarmed as she felt a biting pain along her chest. She looked down and found a small roadmap of red and bleeding scars.

She pushed away from the ground and tried to take to her wings, but the pushing and hammering ponies only pounded her further into the stone. Out of the edges of her eyes she watched a small battalion of Royal guards enter the courtyard, before Sombra hovered over a tiny ball of white light. Once it reached the very thick of them it shot outward with a dozen or so of those spikes she had seen embedded in the lifeless Spitfire.

The ones that were hit directly were lucky. The ones that still moved on the ground…

This can’t be how it ends, she thought quietly at the back of her mind. Not like this. Not from such an evil creature. But why is he so strong? We were never ready for this… We could NEVER have been ready for this…

With what room was still available to her, Celestia got a foreleg out and began to hammer on the helmet of the closest stallion pushing into her. A few solid hits and the area around his eyes gave way. But by then it was still too small a victory… Far too late, while she slowly got pummeled into a heap…

A white glow enveloped each circling enemy, and they effortlessly lifted into the air. Celestia grasped for breath and could not fully believe the sight in front of her.

A hand held out to her. An eagle’s claw.

“Discord?” she gasped.

“Who else?”

He helped her to stand again and then he surveyed the damage. He almost looked like some painter hunting for inspiration. “Things aren’t going well, are they?” he said matter-of-factly.

Celestia was still in the middle of getting her breath back. “No. Sombra is much more powerful than the last time we faced him. I don’t know what new magic is fueling him, but this isn’t good.” She stared at the dirt below her with its small specks of blood—her blood—and she couldn’t help but quiver. She was supposed to be much stronger than this. She was supposed to be strong for everyone.

Discord strolled away to view around a corner leading to the center of the city. “Things don’t look much better down here, either.” He looked at her tiredly. “What’s the—”

But by then something else had already caught his attention.

“Tia look out!” he screamed, holding out a hand.

She turned just in time to watch a dark spear fly towards her head. When she tried to duck, her beaten and warped helmet only seemed to slow her movements.

And that’s how it ends, she thought numbly.

Inches from her head the spear shattered into a billion specks of sand before blowing away in the wind. She turned to find Discord’s outstretched hand still in mid-motion. Their eyes locked and her eyes widened—although not from what’d just happened. “Discord, what did you do to your eyes?”

“Later Celestia!” he yelled, before motioning to her side.

Both parties stared in the direction of the tossed spear to find a near snarling Sombra with his head bent. “So you wish to watch more of your kind perish, Celestia? If that is your choice, I will see that it is done.” He looked at the area his spear had traveled over—the sand that was all that remained of it. Then, with rapidly expanding eyes he finally noted the tall draconequus that had just entered the courtyard.

“Oh Celestia,” he said, in a voice almost sweet, “you shouldn’t have.”

Gingerly, he sidestepped around the yard, never averting his gaze from the mismatched creature. Discord, meanwhile, only raised an puffy eyebrow in return.

“You hired yourself a dragon for me,” Sombra continued. “And here I thought your plans ended with a field of guards.”

Discord whipped to Celestia. “Did he just call me a dragon?” He turned back to the stallion. “Did you just call me a dragon? It’s draconequus!”

Sombra went on as if not hearing a word. “And what tricks this dragon does! How fascinating!” Sombra’s eyes narrowed and something large inside clicked together. “No. It couldn’t be! You couldn’t have! Just for me?”

Discord moved a few steps closer to Celestia. “What’s he talking about?”

She doesn’t take her eyes off the King. “I have no idea.”

Now Sombra looked somehow beyond excited, brandishing both rows of his oddly sharp teeth. “Be this the dragon that led to my defeat all those years ago? Could it really be? Did they really create a statue in your likeness? Oh how you’ve grown in those years.” Suddenly his smile flipped to one of unnerving menace. “I am so happy you could be here today, dragon. You now have the privilege of watching a King both fall from grace and return all the better for it.”

“He thinks I’m Spike,” Discord said quietly, while nudging her in the side. “How dare he confuse my good looks with such normality?”

“Now is not the time for this, Discord,” Celestia said bluntly.

“I feel I am wasting my time here,” Sombra said, almost to himself. “While the rest of my Empire waits patiently for their King to return, I merely stand here and squabble with you.” He glared at Celestia. “The changes to my home have not gone unnoted, Celestia; and so they must be cleansed from my land.” Then he viewed Discord. “And now you’ve graciously given me the best notion of doing so.”

“What does—” was all Celestia could get out, before Sombra disappeared into a wall of smoke that immediately tunneled into the sky.

High above, the blanket of black clouds continued to lazily circle the city, enveloping it in a constant cold shadow.

“Did he just retreat?” Discord suggested. “Couldn’t handle a simple draconequus?”

Celestia kept her words to herself as she anxiously viewed the sky. A moment later, a bolt of lightning crashed down from the clouds, tearing off a large chunk of crystal from a high rising building. Following that came the ferocious cry of a creature far too gigantic to be normal, and then the sounds of flapping wings.

Discord turned his oddly startled face to her. “Did he do this before?”

Words caught in her throat. “No.”

Gilded Blade had kept his well trained eyes on the sky since he’d heard that earth shaking roar cut through the city. While he viewed, he dodged the latest swarm of blackened enemies that forcefully ripped out a barred door in their search for more guards to batter into pulp.

Blade, along with his ten other guards—make that seven, he remembered coldly—charged at the new throng of danger and crashed through, weapons swinging and voices screaming. Then the sound of flapping wings pulled at his attention.

The sky had been blanketed by a thick of dark clouds since the battle had begun, and now something large and black swam gracefully out of them. Once he’d fully realized just what it was that seemed to pierce through the sky, Blade felt something warm and wet course down his legs. But he would not need to worry about such social graces much longer.

The dragon made of hardened black pieces descended closer to the street, as if wanting to view all that was below. Now Blade could see the curved red horn that stood prominent on the creature’s head, as well as the small juts of scale that created a type of make-shift crown.

The King has returned, he thought distantly, but he came back as something we have no hope of defeating.

As his other seven—make that four—guards fought valiantly until their last breath against the dark enemy ponies, Blade merely watched the approaching dragon in the sky. It swooped low and pushed out a long stream of golden fire, consuming the entire street and buildings around.

Blade, along with his allies and his enemies both, were engulfed instantly.

Even through the cacophony of noise filling both ears, Rainbow Dash could still hear her own labored breathing, as well as the careful hoofsteps she took towards the table near the back of the room.

She wore blue, the same color as she had. More than once she looked to compare, unsure of what it all meant.

“Spitfire…” she mumbled, as she felt her knees give way.

Spitfire had not been cleaned or tended to since being dropped off inside. She had been laid on a table in a haphazard fashion, to be dealt with once the battle was done… if there ever would be such a time.

“You didn’t have to do this… you could have said no…”

The tears began to fall and she rested her face against Spitfire’s lifeless head, not mindful of the thin line of blood around her mouth. For a time she wept, shuddering uncontrollably. But there was something else to all this, wasn’t there?

She brought her tear-streaked face up. “What happened to the rest of them? The other Wonderbolts?”

A guard shifting from hoof to hoof with weapon levitating near his side did not turn to her to speak. “That was it. Just her. She didn’t say anything when she got here.” With that out in the open, he lunged into the middle of the room, where more guards and more of those blackened ponies fought on.

“Soarin…” she whispered. “Oh Celestia why? Why them? Why…”

But along with this massive wall of pain and sorrow broke through another forceful emotion: rage. And now every muscle in her body wanted to strike at something. Now all she wanted to do was hit and hurt and cause pain to whatever had done this. There was fighting near the gate, she informed herself. There was fighting near—

“Dash! Where the heck are you going?”

It was Applejack, busily launching a few dark ponies into the air with the aid of both back legs.

Rainbow ignored the mare and focused on the fury that was welling up inside. Before she pulled up on the door brace and entered the outside world, she carefully viewed what she was clad in; just to make sure it was still what she thought it was.

Her Wonderbolts’ uniform.

She muttered, “It was meant to be.”

Just when it had appeared as if things couldn’t have gone more poorly, Sombra had somehow pulled another trick out from his arsenal. His hidden army had been a feat in itself, as well as the untold power he had somewhere along the way laid claim to, but this? This was too much. This she could not believe. This she did not want to believe.

“It’s actually more of a wyvern than a dragon.”

Discord stood to her side, his head facing the sky just as hers was.

“You see, dragons have arms, while wyvern’s don’t. They…”

But Celestia wasn’t listening to much of anything then. She was following the path of the dragon that had once been Sombra. His scaled crown had indicated enough.

The blackened sky had somehow become more ominous since his change. Splotches of red patterned the clouds like patches of blood. Lightning bolts came often and usually with force, chipping off bits of crystal buildings only to land atop of fighting ponies in the streets. Sombra would rise to hide in his thick darkened clouds for a time—the only way of telling of his location was when a bolt of white light would illuminate his body against the sky—before he would grow bored and pick another street to incinerate with his all consuming fire. Or pick some helpless pony to grab with his talons to then whip across the Empire.

Had this been his plan all along? she wondered gravely. Or had he only thought of this when he saw Discord, and just decided to try it?

The fact that Sombra had access to such power filled her with dread. But didn’t she have something similar on her side?

“We need to do something, Discord. Now.”

The draconequus turned to her with a shocked expression. “How!?” He motioned to everything around him.

“I… we…” she started, before discovering she didn’t actually know what to say.

A flash of blue pulled her away, and she had just enough time to find another member of the Wonderbolts awkwardly picking up a spear from a fallen guard. Only... that hair…

“Rainbow Dash?” she mouthed.

The Wonderbolt walked towards them. “Where is he? Where’s Sombra?”

While Celestia’s mouth hung limp upon her discovery, Discord pointed at the sky with a single finger. Just as he did, Sombra let loose another deafening scream that seemed to silence everything around them.

Rainbow Dash glanced up in time to catch a glimpse of the towering dragon against the clouds. Celestia had to give it to the young pegasus—she only stopped for a few seconds before charging into the air.

“Wait! No!” Celestia yelled, but it was already falling on deaf ears. Not when he’s already killed so many, she wanted to finish.

“Why won’t they stop coming? Do they never rest?”

A guard on his right yelled directly into his ear. If Shining Armor’s hearing had not by then taken a beating by the constant clangs of metal and iron, he might have even taken a step back. But as it was he only focused on the slowly crumpling door in front of him.

He said, “They must be some part of Sombra’s magic. He’s created them and now he controls them. They don’t need rest. And they must not feel fear or pain.”

The fight between Shining and his men and the blackened ponies from the holds had gone terribly one sided. The enemy’s armor had been eerily reinforced and even the very strongest of the bunch had only chipped away at them in bits and pieces. The enemy had never stopped moving, either. Relentlessly and without pause they circled his guard and pounded them until there was nothing left. Their sharp armor would slice and appear almost grotesquely polished with the additive of blood. Shining had started the day with a few dozen guards by his side. Now he was down to eight. And even a few of those...

“Bang!”

Another hit on the door. Another sliver of wood tumbled to the floor. A few of his remaining guards pushed back against the damaged wood, but each hit from the other side only served to nearly topple them over.

“What do we do once they get through, Captain?”

A guard looked at him expectantly. Even unto death, Shining knew he had to lead his squadron in the noblest way possible.

“We fight,” he answered carefully. “And we take every one of them with us.”

The guard shook his head timidly, then returned to watching the door with the rest of them.

After Shining’s numbers had been shredded most hurriedly, he had retreated back into a small dinning room he thought he might fortify. The few tables he had found he then propped against the door. Shining’s main concern should have been whether an exit existed in the room to begin with.

It hadn’t.

So now everything relied on what would happen once the door would come down. If only a few of the enemy ponies remained, then they just might live through the day. If there were more, however…

“Bang!”

Another heavy thud and now Shining could see the slick black of one of their helmets. Feeling anger mixed with courage, he ran forward with weapon in toe, leaping upward before striking from the side. The hit proved true and this time the blow did more than crack its armor. This time it took a whole piece away, which clattered to the floor with absurd satisfaction. But what was revealed underneath that blackened armor pulled away whatever small happiness he allowed himself.

The terrified eye of a pony stared back at him.

“We’ve been fighting Empire ponies,” he whispered faintly.

When Rainbow Dash first entered the thick of clouds hovering over the Empire, she donned her Wonderbolts’ goggles to help her see clearer. Once in the sky, the sounds from the fighting below were all but muffled. Now she only heard the steady booms of lightning as it showered the city below; as well as the steady beat of wings.

And still Sombra eluded her.

“Show yourself, Sombra! You’ve taken too much from me to hide!” she yelled to the clouds.

A few dozen seconds passed before she heard anything. At one point she thought she might have felt the sudden push of air against her side, as if some enormous being were traveling beside her. But she told herself it was her imagination and nothing more.

“It is your wish to die like the rest of your blue clan, pony of many hues? Is that what has brought you up to me?”

It was as if the clouds themselves spoke to her, all around her. It was a deep voice, almost mixed with the guttural, inhuman sounds of thunder, and something else… was it joy?

“You’re not playing fair, Sombra! The Empire never belonged to you! It’s not yours to take back!”

“You wish to talk about fairness, pony?” the clouds chuckled. “The first time I came back, I was outnumbered and lacking the necessary strength for much of a battle. And now I return to my home to find it overrun with ponies that do not belong there… and it is I who am being unfair? Are we not commencing our battle on your field of choice, pony of many hues? The sky.”

“That’s not what I—”

And now Rainbow was certain something large and hard had ruffled one of her wings. Only when she spun did she view nothing more than black clouds with a hint of red.

“Little one, tell me: what is it you fear? For someone to come to me, I would be most interested to know.”

A bolt of lightning illumined a wall of clouds to the right of her—the shadow of a dragon hung upon it.

With spear pointed she flung herself at it, only to—

“Huh?” she exclaimed.

She had gone straight through the other side to find no creature at all.

“Oh, but I can already sense what it is,” the clouds told her. “No longer must I ask such a question; now I need only to take a peak inside of your head. Prepare yourself.”

Not a second later did the most uninviting sensation fill her mind. It was like a film-reel forced over her vision, played at some impossible speed. Yet she thought she could somehow comprehend it all.

“Your fears are lackluster at best, pony. You are too good-hearted for much interest.” The clouds paused—from somewhere in the distance (or right beside her) a giant set of wings flapped against the air. “Your symbol is loyalty, and you have proven it today. As well as did every member of your clan. Do you want to know what I did to them? To each and every one?”

“No!” she screamed. Why couldn’t she find him? Why couldn’t she damn well find the giant dragon in the sky? This was her domain! How could she—

“Not even your Sore-Arm?”

It only took her a moment. “His name is Soarin!”

The clouds giggled. “I do not learn the names of those beneath me, pony of many hues. Those that prove themselves equal… perhaps.”

“Then that’s too bad, Sombra!” she said through gritted teeth. “Because before I’m done with you, you’ll learn the names of each and every Wonderbolt you hurt, starting with Soarin!”

With that off her chest she charged forward, spear pointed. Barely a meter in front of her could she see anything more than darkened cloud, but still she continued her advance. Just when she was preparing to pull up and go back around, did a wall of black scales fill her vision. She looked up and found beating wings right above, lazily pushing itself upward. Flying a few meters away and then back, she put everything she had behind the strike.

The hit was true but her instrument of choice was not.

The broken silver head of her spear tumbled off her stick, lost somewhere miles below. With that part gone she dropped the remainder of her weapon, and told the rest of her shaking self that it had only been constricting her flight all along—that a flyer like her did not need such weapons to rescue the day.

The clouds spoke up again. “Only too late do you fully understand.”

Rainbow felt the ends of a tail slide up her back before she tried to take hold of it. Before she even realized what it was, it was gone.

“Do not fear your death today, pony. Greet it like a friend. You have already shown the rest of this city that you hold yourself above no one. As you die today, give them a memory they can hold onto—give them a story they can whisper to others as they return to being my slaves. Be that glimmer of hope they’ll remember from this day onward.

“Do you not understand, pony of many hues, how much grander you will be in death, than you would ever be in life?”

Rainbow hastily scrubbed away some particles from her goggles. “You talk too much, Sombra!”

Again she charged forward, this time with her right foreleg out, her lucky horseshoe carefully leading the way. Only a few meters onward did the overwhelming face of the pitch-black dragon escape from the clouds, its gapping and fanged jaw already gathering in the necessary air for its fire. The eyes above that jaw burned brightly like perfectly cut crystals of crimson red.

Rainbow craned to her side just in time to avert the flames—although the tips of one wing felt a little too warm for comfort.

She circled around in time to glimpse the edges of a wing as it solidly smashed into her. She took the hit and felt the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Then she spat it out.

“I’m going to die in these clouds,” she told herself, not truly wanting to believe such words. “I can’t see anything. So he’s going to pick me apart until there’s nothing left. I just can’t see. I just can’t—”

And then an idea came to her. An idea so simple and so sure she felt like slapping herself for not coming to it earlier.

With the first hint of a smile on her lips she rose into the air as quickly as she could. Although she felt a heavy amount of air try to press its way nearer to her, Sombra did not touch her again.

A minute later, when she’d felt as though the field of dark clouds would never part, Rainbow finally saw them thin before she broke through. What touched her eyes nearly brought them to tears after so much despair and dread. Beyond the clouds, a clear blue sky came to be—untouched and unspoiled. She told herself if she should fail today, that this would be what she would remember.

Flying high in a perfect blue sky.

Another mile or so above the black clouds, Rainbow doubled back and careened to the earth robustly. It she wanted to pull of any such Sonic Rainboom with grace, she’d need the speed to accomplish it. How could she have not thought of it earlier? Sombra had been hiding in clouds of his own creation. If she should be able to clear them away, then perhaps a series of archers could help force him to land.

“Almost… there,” she grunted, as the strong winds wrinkled her face.

Out of the corners of her eyes she glimpsed the start of the multi-colored pattern that always pre-meditated the Boom. It was at that time she re-entered the clouds—but that was the way she wanted it. As the Rainboom would spread she wanted to be in the very thick of it, taking it all out at once.

It was close. She could feel it. Just a few more seconds—

But now there was something large near her side. And before she had a chance to glance over to it, a wall of pain so great it made her scream out tore its way through her.

In mid-plummet, the black dragon had snapped up her left wing in its sharpened jaws, violently ripping her from her travels to the ground. Bones broke and shattered completely; muscles tore and blood gave way from a dozen or more places.

Rainbow wanted to scream more than her voice would allow. Any air in her lungs had been hastily removed since the blow. And now those jaws were tearing at her again, dragging her along.

“Your game has come to an end, flying pony,” the clouds said. “In reward of your valor, I will grant you the reward of a brisk death.”

With her wing firmly clamped in its jaws, the great dragon came to a sudden stop and whipped his head first one way and then the other, flinging the pegasus around like a ragdoll. Bits of blood dotted the sky, and now Rainbow was released and careening in a new direction away from the beast. A moment later she came to a heavy thud against the crystal wall of the Empire tower. Rainbow had not even tried to stop it from coming. Since her wing had nearly been torn off she hadn’t been focused on much. Once she’d hit the tower—complete with a few broken ribs—straight down became her next direction.

The air blowing against her devastated wing sent fresh bolts of pain across her, but she thought she hold handle what little pain was left. Soon the ground would come and lay waste to any more sorrow. Soon she would join Soarin in whatever world lay beyond this one. Her only brief concern was if Mr. and Mrs. Cake would find a good home for her kids, as it was with them she had left in their stead.

The black clouds gave way and the sight of the ground with its many battling ponies came to. Her last thought was that she could have done more.

Chapter 13: The Empire Part Three

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

THE EMPIRE PART THREE

“There are ponies inside!” Shining screamed, once it all abruptly clicked in his head. “This isn’t some spell, they’re real ponies!”

Each of his remaining guards viewed him with rising alarm.

One took a step forward. “You mean he brought a real army with him?”

Shining shook his head. “No.” He motioned toward the blackened pony with the single horrified eye poking through. “Does that look like a pony that wants to fight?”

His guards hurriedly glanced to their neighbor, before returning to him.

“Somehow Sombra’s encased the Empire ponies with his own magic and is using them against us. He’s forcing them to fight!”

“So what do we do?” one of them asked. “We can’t let them just attack us! They’ll kill us all without mercy!”

Shining put his head down to think. “I… We—” Then a voice from the door grabbed his attention.

“Help us.”

It was the enemy pony with the partially shattered helmet—only now the lower part had also given way, allowing his mouth room to move.

“Stop us. Kill us if you must.” He wheezed after every short sentence. The energetic movements of the rest of his coated limbs must have taken what little oxygen he had. “I’d rather die than have him take over again.”

It was only then that Shining noted the bits of sparkle by the corners of his mouth. Behind every bit of hardened glass was the body and soul of a Crystal pony… one that must have been old enough to remember the reign of Sombra clearly.

He pleaded again. “Please.”

For the first time that day Shining was at a loss for words.

When Celestia was certain Rainbow Dash was not about to make a sudden reappearance from the clouds, she and Discord took to the streets to try and help the guards still fighting. Using a spell she’d only remembered a short time ago, Celestia busily connected the limbs of the dark enemy to nearby buildings and the ground, holding them in place while they thrashed for their foes out of reach. Discord, meanwhile, levitated each enemy several meters from the earth, where they energetically fought against the air.

Celestia asked, “Can’t you do anything to make them stop thrashing like that?”

Discord snapped his fingers a few more times. “Nope. Not a thing. Whatever those things are, they’re here by some powerful magic. But I don’t think they’ll pose much of a problem from up there.”

Celestia turned to him. “Why did you change your eyes, Discord? I thought blue would be too normal for you?”

Discord appeared a tad surprised. “What? A creature of immortal status can’t change it up from time to time? I thought it brought out the color of my…” He quickly scanned his mismatched body before summoning a blue handbag. “Travel bag!”

“I—” Celestia begun, before something far greater in the sky caught her attention.

Near the center of the city, just to the right of the Empire tower, was a thin streak of blue that fell from the sky. And were those dots of red beside it?

She whimpered, “Oh Rainbow Dash. Not you too…”

She hovered off the ground a few feet, preparing to spring forward, before another flash of blue rushed her by, far faster than she could have hoped to travel. In mid-air she waited and watched, as that bit of blue advanced toward the center of the city.

The ground was getting close. It would be with her soon, she knew.

She was glad no one would be underneath her when she landed. That would have put an even larger damper on her day. The day that she died.

With just a few meters left in her fall she closed her eyes. She felt the impact and was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t as forceful as she thought it might have been. It must have been instantaneous.

She felt her hair move in the wind; a pair of forelegs wrapped tight around her body.

I must be in that second place, she thought distantly. Otherwise why would Soarin be here?

She had opened her eyes to find the serious face of Soarin as he flew through the air. His uniform was tattered with gashes and cuts, and one of his back legs had a black spike embedded deep within. The fast flowing air circling the pair found her damaged wing once more and she shuddered against the pain.

This isn’t supposed to hurt, she thought sleepily. That just wouldn’t be right.

“Soarin? Are you really here?” she whispered.

Finally he regarded her for the first time since scooping her up and a faint smile touched his worn face. “Yes. And everything’s going to be okay.”

Of course it was, she thought. How could it not?

Then she drifted into unconsciousness.

Celestia had had enough.

Too many of her subjects had already been torn apart or burned to a cinder for her to stand back and watch. Whether he be pony or ghost or dragon or nothing of the sort, she would face him and she would defeat him. In some odd way it seemed as though the most natural of endings. A final clash—lord against lord.

She lifted to the air with white glowing sword held to her side and flew upwards just quick enough to hear Discord call after her.

“Princess, wait!”

He said something afterwards that she didn’t catch but it was far too late to turn back. She had made herself a mission and before any fear could get the better of her, she knew she had to see it through.

“Sombra!” she bellowed, surprising herself with the fury behind her voice. “This ends now!”

She entered the thick of black clouds like a small boat encapsulated by fog. It had the oddest of effects. A moment ago the sounds of battle and pain played themselves clear to her ears. Now the only noise she heard was the sharp cracks of thunder and the movement of some mammoth titan hiding in the sky.

She said, “You will not hide from me!” before casting a clearing spell that expanded in a wide sphere, pushing against the clouds. At the far corner of her sphere, she caught a small detail of black scale. “I will find you!”

“Oh, I’m sure that you will, Celestia,” Sombra echoed, with a voice that seemed to fill the sky entire. “But the question becomes: Will that be by your choice? Or mine?”

Celestia dashed to the area she had seen the hint of black, using another clearing spell to help guide her along.

“What is it you fear, Celestia? I had always wanted to know. A simpleton could take a hurried look upon you and consider your title a fear of its own, but is there more to you than the image you present? What dark secrets lie inside that mind, I wonder? Dreams of lust, yes? Dreams of violence and harm that no sane Princess would ever act upon, yes? Perhaps the simple dream of letting it all go—of becoming normal, and living an un-extraordinary existence, yes?” The booming voice halted for a second. “I will not pierce into your mind, Celestia, as easy as it would prove. I already know what it is you fear, and I already know it is I that cause it.”

Celestia had been flying steadily in slow arcs, clearing a section of cloud before moving on to the next. “What are you—” she began, before seeing the sight in the sky.

The projected image of her sister had been laid across a tall cloud. She had been bloodied, beaten, and far too still to be anything but dead. Celestia shut her eyes from such a sight and slashed her way through another thick of sky.

“Her alicorn blood still warms my body, Celestia. It is a taste most refined. Have you ever tried feasting off the flesh of another? Before today I had never known meat to seem so sweet… or so tender. I do not even consider it a crime, as you might. Anyone below a King is nothing more than an animal in need of a master.”

“Shut up! I don’t believe you!” she cried. “Luna’s fine! She’s just fine and you didn’t do anything to her because you couldn’t have done anything to her!” She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. “You are nothing more than a monster of lies and today, so help me, I will see you die once more!”

The endless dark and crimson clouds boomed steadily on. Then a voice far too close: “Such strong words… from such a small creature.”

Celestia had just enough time to move to the side of his gapping jaws. With a sharp snap they closed again, pulling a few feathers from her. As the rest of Sombra’s long and hard body passed over her, she readied her sword and slashed at what must have been his belly. Like the enemy ponies below, Celestia was not surprised to find bits of black glass drop from his scales. Drawing back her sword, she fixed her view on another area of the beast. One she hoped wasn’t as armored as the rest of him.

“Raaaghhhhh!” the dragon roared in unexpected pain.

Celestia had slashed hard into the thin web-like membrane that connected his leathery wings. With a blinding white heat she had filled her blade and sliced cleanly through, holding the weapon still until she reached the very end of his flesh.

Feeling the smallest of victories, Celestia had no time to react when his hardened tail swung into her side, knocking the breath from her and sending her reeling away. She tried to stay focused and find her balance again, but her armor only seemed to limit any grace she once might have had while in flight.

Then something stopped her completely.

Something warm and hard had wrapped itself around her entire body. Only her head and the very end of her tail stuck out in the breeze. Sombra’s immense dragon talons gripped Celestia in their collective clutches. He bobbed and weaved his way through the air, as if going on some joyous stroll through the clouds. If it had been under any other circumstance, it might have even been peaceful in nature.

As soon as Celestia finally noted what it was that had claimed her, she struggled with everything left. A white light shot from her horn at the talons that gripped her, but only more shards of glass gave way.

The creature towering far above her said, “It has been an honor, Celestia. You have given me a deserving stage to mark my return. Travel well.”

Once he was finished, Sombra tightened his grip before twisting both talons in opposite directions. Celestia felt something warm and wet come bubbling from her throat but by then she was already falling.

As much as she wanted to fly away, her wings had been shattered far too badly for any such notion. As much as she wanted to use her horn to help heal her or protect her in some way, the stabbing pain in her chest and in every organ that had been crushed took too much effort from her. Instead she watched as the dark clouds parted and the Empire came floating up to her. She was heading for the roof of a hall near the base of the Empire tower. Either she would land on the hard crystal roof, or the skylight some meters away by its center. Perhaps she could have angled herself in that direction, if she’d had the energy.

So she shut her eyes and let come whatever may.

She heard the shattering of glass and darkness took over.

When she came to she could already hear someone coming… whether they be friend or foe she had no way of knowing.

“Princess, wait!” he had yelled, before muttering under his breath: “It’s not supposed to go like this.”

But that wasn’t true. Not entirely. The whole day had been up in the air, truly it had. And just what a day it had been for the draconequus. Death and destruction and misery and utter chaos around every corner. It was enough to give the creature a cavity in his single fang. But even through all this joy did he find it hard to look at her crumpled on the floor. Her blood splattered in an incoherent pattern along the carpets.

When Celestia had landed through the skylight at the Empire tower, Discord had thought she was already dead. But when he snapped himself inside and nimbly crept around a corner, he could see the faintest sign of her chest quivering up and down. Each time she exhaled he honestly wondered if that would prove to be her last. When he grew tired of watching he stepped towards her.

“Who… who’s there?” she gasped.

She was trying to put the smallest of force behind each word—had she thought it was Sombra again?

He came closer. “Hello Celestia.”

“Discord.” She honestly sounded relieved. She opened both heavy eyes—still beautiful, encapsulating, even after everything they’d seen. “Quick. Help me to the throne room. There should be some exit we can use… We need to regroup, pull our forces together…”

In her pain she was close to delirious. But she was correct. The area below the skylight she had been thrown through served as the hallway leading to the throne room. A rich, red carpet fed all the way to the stairs of the large golden chair—the Crystal Empire throne.

“No, wait,” she continued heavily, “snap us out of here. You can do that, right? Get us… get us somewhere where we can think of what to do next….”

Discord knelt down beside her. “I don’t think you’re in any condition to travel, Celestia. You look much worse for wear.”

He spoke in a much more serious tone than was accustom. Any laughter left in his voice had vanished some time ago.

Celestia blinked sluggishly. “I’ve seen you do it before, Discord. You can… you can snap us out of here…”

Discord slowly shook his head. “Not this time, I’m afraid.”

And then her eyes came alive in a way that truly alarmed him—clarity and awareness filled the space behind both giant eyes. Now they held a thin shine of tears.

“It was you,” she said, while slowly shaking her head. “It was you the whole time.” She paused to look away, unable to keep her eyes fixed on him. “The color of your eyes… the absence in battle… the way you pushed me away from any thoughts of danger… Luna and Twilight… It was you the whole time. Oh why Discord, why? How?”

Discord took to standing again. He was having trouble viewing the bloodied Princess from such a close view. “I think your need to know how it all came to be are coming to an end, Celestia. Only know that you brought this on yourself.”

He spoke in the gravest tones he had every muttered towards anyone. Both of his eyes watered and he unknowingly clenched both fists in an off-rhythmic pattern. “You tried to change me, Celestia. You tried to use me for your own ends—manipulate me. You are not a creator, Princess—you are a leader, and nothing more. You tried to change chaos itself, but chaos is not something that is supposed to stop and play nice. Chaos is ever moving, ever changing, and the moment it stops doing that is the moment it stops doing what it was meant to do.” He paused, wanting to somehow snap away the few tears that were falling loose from his eyes. “You tried to change the very nature of my being, Celestia. I loved you, and all you wanted to do was use me… and change me… all for your own gain.”

Celestia, cradled on the floor, could only shake her head at his speech. “No… no…” she whispered.

“What other option was there than this?” He held out both arms. “What other option was I left with? Turned back to stone? Broken into a million pieces so I could never come back?”

“We would… we would never…”

“You say that now. Now when we’ve come so far. But words are just words… and actions always trump words!”

Awkwardly Celestia tried to lift her head, possibly in an attempt to exemplify her message. “It’s not too late, Discord. We… we can forget this. We can go back to the way things were. We can still stop Sombra.”

Discord shook his head slowly—more of those damned tears streaking down his cheeks. (It WASN’T supposed to HAPPEN this way! IT WASN’T!) “Please do not make the image of you begging be the last thing I see of you, Tia. I want to remember you as more than that.”

A dimness in her eyes informed him that his message had finally found its place. For the first time since he’d stood by her side, her expression changed to one of numb understanding. She said with a complete lack of emotion, “They’ll know it was you. This is too big to be able to hide, even for you.”

He answered bluntly, “I’ll deal with it when the time comes, in whatever way is necessary. I think—”

But that was when the doors shot open from down the hall and a fine mist of black smoke came trailing in. On both sides of the chamber, what remained of the tower’s burning wall candles blew out one by one.

“It seems you have company.”

Celestia shook her head again, hardly even a movement at all. “You’re not a murderer, Discord. You’re chaos… but not a murderer.”

He regarded her with a faint smile. “I know. And that’s why I’m not touching you at all.” He raised both hands while slowly backing away.

A few feet from the overhead glow of the skylight, he turned to steadily pace into the throne room, where once inside he gently closed both doors. Alone in the large room, he first took his time finding a comfortable position on the hard metal seat, before deciding that simply floating above it might be his best option.

After he had closed the door, Celestia had called his name out two more times. Both times he rose from his seat, scarily close in an effort to go help. But it was too late for that. It was far too late for that, he knew.

The last words he heard from her were, “Sombra, you’ve—” before all other words were cut short. Discord was minutely glad to note it was a quick death that claimed her, and not something else of the sort.

Then he got into position to greet his guest.

He couldn’t believe it had all been so easy. It was like some dream come to life—some dream that would never end.

Bits of alicorn blood still leaked from the edges of his mouth, and its effects on his body were instantaneous and wonderful. With just a few drops Sombra had the energy of some well rested warrior. In just those few drops he felt close to shaking in his armor.

After he had cast Celestia back to the earth below he had continued his destructive reign as a dragon for a few minutes more. But something inside him made mention that the alicorn might still live—close to death, but not there yet. So regretfully stripping himself of his scaled version, he plummeted back to the ground in a thick of smoke—and in cape and crown—to search for his fallen Princess. It did not take him long to find her.

Now with the deed done, he surveyed the long hall he was in. Could he be of that good fortune? he wondered.

His throne room lay ahead. His destroyed enemy lay still and warm in his mouth. It was a moment he would need to record to memory for future use.

Pushing open the double doors, he steadily took in the semi-familiar surroundings, all the while making mental note of what had to be changed and why. But still, it was home. And it was beautiful. And it was—

Something wasn’t right. Someone wasn’t right.

Something was sitting on his throne.

“Hello Sombra!” the dragon on his throne greeted. “Busy day, isn’t it?”

Slowly he felt his original scowl turn to a grin; the action almost alien to his face. “You’ve caught me in a rather festive mood, dragon. So for this act of you violating my throne, I will not kill you outright. Instead I will let you live, to witness my siege across Equestria.”

The dragon made no intention of moving. “Sorry, Sombra. But I’m just so damn comfy up here. You should probably just find a new chair to call your own.”

One of Sombra’s eyes twitched. “Were you a jester in this life? Perhaps that is how I will make use of you in my kingdom. How does that sound, dragon? Royal court jester? You believe you can make me laugh? Hundreds have tried—very few have succeeded.”

“Did you only laugh when you killed them after?” the dragon inquired.

The question surprised a deep chuckle from him. “Very good, dragon. Already you are earning your keep. But the longer you sit in that chair, the harder I seem to find things laughable.”

The thin dragon leaned forward, his blue eyes opening abnormally wide. “Perhaps this will make you laugh.” He then waved a hand over his face, changing his features to the unicorn that had held him captive in that dark cave for all those years. When he changed back, Sombra could see those yellow and red eyes burning with a kind of toxic madness.

Sombra took a step back. “No… no. Not you. Not some jester… not some pieced together dragon full of party tricks.”

The dragon stood, grinning a little too wide. “Hey, you don’t see me making fun of your hair, do you?”

But by then Sombra had heard enough.

Not in the slightest did it matter who had done what they had—who exactly had locked him away for all those years. Now he had found them. Now he could make them pay as he saw fit. So what if it was some make-shift dragon all along? Had he not just given himself over to him? Already confessed to the nasty deed?

“You may think you are smart or gifted, dragon, but you are still in no league of mine.”

Stomping a foreleg on the ground, a black trail quickly edged toward the throne until it exploded in a series of blackened spikes. Sombra looked up to watch as the dragon would struggle against them but found no one on the throne at all.

A snap of fingers told him the dragon had reappeared behind him, but another, far more urgent feeling had suddenly made itself clear. As though a hole were cut in his chest, Sombra felt every new breath he took on the verge of strangling him.

“How…” and already he collapsed to the floor.

The dragon came around and in his hand he held the Crystal Heart he remembered dreaming of in the cave. It had been finely detailed to bare resemblance to a real heart, and like a real heart it was now coated in a thick puddle of red.

The dragon held it aloft. “You remember this?” he sneered. “Before you left the cave I gave you this. A heart. A real heart, made of Crystal. The same Crystal from this stupid Empire in that stupid locked room in the basement. In a way it brought you back to life. Perhaps in a way you haven’t felt like in millennia.” He regarded it grotesquely. “And now you’ve gotten your guts all over it.” He dropped it and it shattered like fine china against the marble.

“No…” was all Sombra could mutter.

The dragon began to circle the King. “You seem tasked to write history not with the use of quill and ink but instead with oil and fire. You have no class, Sombra.” He leaned in close. “I am the Lord of Chaos itself and even I know that chaos needs order. You’re the type that attacks with little plan of what will surly follow. You are the type that is predestined to lose.” He paused. “You were never meant to win this war, Sombra. You were only meant to assist in the creation of a new one. And now you’ve done just that… splendidly, I might add. But everything that begins eventually comes to an end. And now so do you.”

Sombra had stopped listening to the dragon moments ago. Now he only viewed his throne through heavy eyes—so close, so damn close. He reached a hoof towards it. “No… no…”

“No?” the dragon asked. “Is that all you can say?”

“You have not earned this…”

The dragon looked at him fiercely. “Oh but I have, my friend. I really have. Now be a good little pony and go back to playing dead.”

And so, glimpsing his throne for one final time, Sombra’s eyes drifted shut and his body burned away to nothing but black ash and bone. He had made it home, but it was not enough.

Shining Armor hurriedly pushed his way through the throng of ponies presently crowding the room. After the first few “Excuse me’s” stated, he gave up the task and just shoved along.

When his small band of guards had finally come to the realization that the enemy ponies were actually no true enemy, they had collectively decided not to attack back. The only problem was the enemy still had no problem in attacking them. With extra materials found in their little hole of a room, they had reinforced the door twice over and had then basically hoped for a miracle.

Twenty minutes later it came, when the incessant sounds of banging from outside ceased instantly.

Once the wood was removed they found the battered remains of dead and badly injured Crystal ponies strung all throughout the Empire. Any sign of their black armor had vanished into dust.

As curious as that might have been, what caught Shining’s attention immediately after was just why every living pony seemed to be flocking towards a single building. And only when he reached the edge of the crowd did he see why.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was too late.”

On the carpeted floors of the main hall, Discord loudly wept over the bloodied and lifeless body of Princess Celestia. Far behind him but in plain sight was all that remained of King Sombra—some bones and some dust.

The last thing Shining heard before Discord fell into another large heap of anguish was:

“I’ll always love you, Tia.”

Chapter 14: The Beautiful Lie

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

THE BEAUTIFUL LIE

It was such a beautiful lie.

Already a year had passed since that fateful die and still much of the populace would continue to repeat that same, tired story—that same tale of vengeance and love and the power of a tragic pair against the very heart of darkness.

There was a time, as odd as it may sound, when a good many petitioners even wanted to change Hearts and Hooves day to the day Sombra had been defeated, and the world lost its largest monarch. The movement was grassroots in nature and barely reached beyond a vale of whispers and conversations, but how abnormal it was that still a great many agreed to its creation. How could such a day of death and destruction become such a day of sudden romanticism?

“I love you,” star-struck lovers would say, as they’d stare longingly into their partner’s eyes. “I love you, too,” would usually be the retort, and in both of their minds they would truly hope their love could be as strong as Celestia’s and Discord’s was on the day they saved all of Equestria.

After the dust had cleared and the list of rightly answers grew short, rumors grew as deep and dangerous as abandoned wells. Did anyone know that Celestia was still courting Discord? A few would shake their heads, while inside they told themselves how much it all made sense—indeed, it must have, if it was love that prevailed in the end. And in these little circles of gossipers, usually a single voice (usually the one that would like to hear themselves talk above the rest) would gladly inform the others of the rumors they had intercepted from other rumor-mills. “You mean you didn’t know Discord was living in Canterlot?” “You mean you didn’t know Celestia and Discord had lunch just a week prior at some fancy restaurant?” “You mean you didn’t hear of them sneaking around the backs of others while they made whoopee out of sight? How else would you explain what they did on ‘That Day’?”

Since specifics had become unnecessary, the siege at the Empire had simply grown into “That Day.” King Sombra had become “He” or “Him,” and the lovers at the very center of it all turned into “Them,” usually followed by a sigh or a wayward glance, as if such poetic love could barely be uttered without gasping for air.

The dozens of ponies at the Empire that day who witnessed the inconsolable Discord firsthoof, cradling the still body of Celestia, would swear they could still hear his cries of anguish plainly. It was from their mouths that these first rumors told hold, and my oh my were they ever hard to not get swept away in.

Discord, injured from his many hours in battle, had lost sight of Celestia when she flew up into the clouds. Minutes later, she fell from the sky and landed near the center of the city. Only seconds too late did Discord arrive, as King Sombra finished off what little life the Princess had left. Discord, using his grief as well as his undying love for Celestia, willed to him a powerful magic that could barely be contained. Instantly the tyrant known as Sombra was consumed by such love, and collapsed to the floor in a hill of ash and bone.

It was such a lovely story.

Schoolhouses commissioned plays on their love (usually without all that nasty Sombra stuff); golden statues depicting an embracing Celestia and Discord began popping up in most major areas; small fillies found themselves tucked into their beds while hearing the latest adventure of the lovable pair known as Celestia and Discord, as they pummeled fictional villains and never let evil or cruelty get in the way of their love. (Some said the series was written by the same author of the Daring Do books, but no one really knew for sure.)

Honestly, the world had never seen such bright days after such a horrid time.

It was such a beautiful lie.

In the months spent in hospital after her fight with a winged and impenetrable Sombra, Rainbow Dash consoled herself with a single Daring Do book that she continued to read over and again. Page 344 was as far as she would reach before turning back and starting a new. There were still close to a hundred pages left in the novel but the rest of the story she cared little about. It was the Do book where Daring would cripple a wing near the start of her adventure, meaning that for the rest of the book, she’s need to rely on simply her brains and wits and cunning to help her evade the dangers. It was on page 345 (perhaps when the author became bored of writing about a stalled pegasus) that Daring Do got her wings back to help save the day. Not ever in the mood for such fantasy, Rainbow would flip back to the opening and drift back into that lackluster adventure. For as long as she could, anyway.

“You mean you won’t fly?”

One of her fillies had asked suddenly, as they lay their multi-colored head on her bedside. She had smiled at each of them during her time of recovery, expressing that notion that all was still well in the Dash family household. It was only when one of her kids became anxious of the hospital that he began circling around the room, inadvertently nudging into things with his energetic wings. When he saw the look on his mother’s face, and the shine in her eyes, he lowered himself and went back to sitting on his chair.

“It’s going to be okay, you two,” she had reassured, with that poor lump in her throat, tempting to choke off every word. “Your dad’s an even better flyer than me and he’ll show you everything you’ll need to know. Flying isn’t everything. I’ve had my time in the sun… now it’s your time.”

The last few weeks of her recovery and her children barely visited at all, not unless Soarin brought them there under force. Mom had become gloomy since the incident, they had thought in their simplistic manner. I hope mom gets better soon…

Right before a major decision concerning her care was about to be made, Rainbow had returned from unconsciousness. It was whether her damaged wing should be removed or not. After hardly a moment of deliberation, she had elected to keep it wrapped and bandaged while it remained by her side. The doctors told her it would be of little use and might just get in the way. Never the less Rainbow remained adamant and the torn wing had remained, all while a little part of her that she could never quite quell told her that maybe in time it would heal, and that someday she would fly again.

It was such a beautiful lie.

Twilight Sparkle and Luna arrived at the battle site not a few minutes after its conclusion as might have been expected but a full two hours after its cataclysmic end. Clean up had not yet started and most remaining guards and citizens kept themselves busy by roaming the streets with a complete lack of understanding plastered to their faces.

The enemy had been defeated, they knew. But at what cost?

Twilight had already been in near tears and when she finally glimpsed her brother did they finally escape down her cheeks. Their embrace was a short one and the smile that Shining gave her then slipped away in his deathly silent city. “Something’s happened,” he told her gravely, and then Twilight’s mind became alive with all the horrendous possibilities.

Each new blow she took as well as she could, but each one made her wish she was back at her cabin, back with a book in her face while the whole rest of the world took care of whatever they needed to. Without her knowledge, Rainbow Dash had invited every one of her old friends to the city in an attempt to possibly unite the extinct Elements of Harmony. Twilight was sent an invitation that had never arrived. And now each one of her distant friends had witnessed one of the worst battles in history and another lay in hospital, forever mutilated, forever changed.

And somehow things only got worse from there.

“I… There’s something…”

On several occasions Shining tried to communicate his next sentence, but every time he took a hurried glance at Luna, it made him dry up on sight. Toward the center of town he led their way, mindful of the bodies of guards and Crystal ponies still lying in the streets. After one more attempt at trying to explain what had gone on, he instead quickened his pace and shuffled passed a large group of onlookers surrounding the doors of the Empire tower. Once they had reached the head of the crowd inside, the slight murmuring came to a halt.

Shining muttered something along the lines of, “I’m… I’m so sorry,” but it fell on deaf ears.

A single tear fell to the red carpet and Twilight slowly became aware it had fallen from her cheek. Already her worst fear had come true. And it had happened to a friend that was never supposed to leave her side. Princess Celestia was supposed to support her forever—help deal with what it meant to be an alicorn, in all its horrifying ups and downs—and now she had left them all without a word.

She turned to her side. “Luna, I’m so sorry.”

The original displayed rage and mild confusion Luna had worn like a shield while entering the city had given away, leaving a timid creature behind. Without a word she bowed her head to the floor and left the room. A moment later Twilight tried to find her outside, but any sight of her had already gone. That had been a year ago already.

“You think she’ll ever come back?” Spike had asked, a few months after Luna’s abrupt departure.

Twilight had sighed and shook her head. “I just don’t know, Spike. Imagine loosing the only pony you’ve known your entire life. Thousands of year’s worth of memories—gone. I don’t think anyone can understand what she’s going through.”

After the cleanup of the Empire and its immediate rebuilding, Twilight returned home to continue her research. More than a few had thought she would return to Canterlot since both Princesses had left all of Equestria without a ruler, but events had already fallen into place to help remedy the situation. Twilight was not needed there, and she was all the happier for it.

And although she told herself time and time again that she could have never made it to the Empire to help anyone and that Sombra’s tricks by distracting both her and Luna while he waged war were too sly to be seen by the naked eye, a small part of her somehow knew it all just didn’t add up. How had Sombra even known where she was? Why would he have even bothered at all? Hadn’t he wanted a fight with everyone he could get?

But these questions she chose to ignore, for there were far more pressing matters at the time, such as when the next secret from her latest book would make itself know. So by flickering candlelight she read on, all the while reminding herself that others could never comprehend just how important her work would be.

It was such a beautiful lie.

In fifteen minutes Lord Discord could raise the sun with barely mild concentration. The moon however still alluded him, and could take anywhere from thirty minutes to a full hour to get just right. But he was getting better. Of course he was. Because who else would complete such duties without his truly?

In his large and lush office Discord sat behind an overlong desk, nearly splitting the room in two. If anyone else wanted to sit in his seat, they’d have to climb over its polished surface most awkwardly. With only the snap of his fingers Discord was in, ready for business and whatever the day may bring. Speaking of which…

“Are you ready to greet some of your subjects, Lord Discord?”

His executive eyed the draconequus tiredly while giving him the slightest of bows. While Discord had never asked the pony to perform such movements, secretly he didn’t mind.

He waved a hand. “Give me a minute. I need a break from all this planet moving.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

On that note his executive left and Discord turned his chair to face his unnecessarily high window, usually the one he’d be tempted to judge his sun and moon moving with. Today looked not bad, he later deemed, while taking long pulls from his large white mug. When he drained the rest, he snapped up another hot cup and hurriedly dived in. It was going to be a long day, he thought. Actually, everyday was becoming a long day, he grimly surmised.

“I’ll always love you, Tia.”

The moment it had left his lips—even while he still cradled the bloodied and motionless body of Celestia—had he already wanted to nibble on his knuckle from its hammyness. And yet his performance had worked—worked splendidly—just as he knew it would. Not a dry eye in the house. Every pony that had witnessed that scene on that fateful day would go on to tell of his anguish, of his longing for the dearly departed Princess.

He honestly didn’t think he had ever loved her more then at that moment, when she was gone and yet somehow fitting perfectly into his improvised game. Had he a clue things would work out the way they would? Of course not. Too many variables hovered in the air—too many small details that could have been overlooked, or looked upon by the wrong sets of eyes. But yet here he sat and yet here he controlled both the sun and the moon and yet here every pony now believed it was love and only love that stopped the unstoppable Sombra and yet here it was that the annoying Luna had miraculously disappeared and the annoying Twilight had gone away again and yet here it was that ponies even began to call him Lord!

“Lord Discord,” he whispered slowly, tasting each small word on his tongue.

It had never been his intention. Truly. It had been—almost—by accident.

His executive was about to launch into his introductory speech before announcing Discord to a group of dignitaries, but right before he got to his name a bubble had swiftly slid up his throat. “…and now I will introduce lawrd! Discord.”

His executive spun his head to face the draconequus, both wide eyes consuming most of his head, mouth agape. Later, when their guests had eaten their fill of their lovely spread and departed to who knows where, Discord’s speaker had told him it had all been some terrible mistake. That a burp had suddenly shot itself out of him and it came out sounding like ‘Lord.’ Discord had giggled it off and was surprised to note not a single pony had heard the snapping of fingers in the quiet hum of the room. With hardly a few well placed rumors to follow suit, Lord Discord came to be. And so it had remained.

But honestly, what other title could there possibly be for a creature that controlled most of Equestria with his magic? A King? He had known quite the King in his time and had considered him a fool. The label ‘King’ had become tarnished. But ‘Lord’… that would do.

“I think we need to think about this more! I think more time on the subject will do us some good!”

That was the haranguing sound from some of the more stuck-up officials when Discord finally attended his first cabinet meeting since the fall of Celestia. Luna had already been gone for some time, and now the land was stuck in a perpetual mid-day glow. Most had their own ideas of who or what should take over, but not many of those candidates had the magic to back it up.

Oddly silent in his stone chair, Discord had concentrated with every bit of focus he had to move the planets in the right direction. When they moved a noticeable distance in the sky, more than a few officials leapt for the windows.

“Luna’s returned! Luna’s come back!”

Wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow, Discord stood and faced the rest of the room. “No, my friends. That was of my doing. And it definitely wasn’t as easy as they made it look.”

Most butts found their seats after that, but still a few remained by the windows to watch the sun and moon move peacefully across the sky. Perhaps they tried to trick themselves into believing both Princesses were alive and accounted for. Even if for only a moment…

Like clockwork Discord had systematically beaten them down. Each question posed he had a repartee handy. Each disagreement, he diffused most surely. All of these naysayers (unsurprisingly) were of the colt and stallion variety. The other group of mares that made up their little governing table, had by then already heard each and every tale of the heroic Discord vanquishing the unimaginably horrific Sombra, with nothing else but the power of love by his side. A few were even curious to know if he’d ever consider another courtship with a mare again…

The beet red face of an older colt trumpeted, “Well I… umm…” He glanced around for another friendly face—another voice to add to his call. When none presented itself he stormed from the room in a huff. And oh did the draconequus just find it hard to keep from laughing.

A few weeks later and the decision had been made. Discord would rule Equestria while raising both the sun and the moon. Advisors would help along the way and his actions and decisions would be heavily regarded. But those stipulations mattered little to him. He had still found his way to the top.

It had all almost felt like a dream.

“Lord Discord,” he said again in the stillness of his office. “The creator of Chaos of the Mind.”

Because what else could this all be called? If an entire world believed in a lie of your creation; if everyone of your enemies had fallen by your pen stroke to help solidify such a lie, what other term could there be? Sure, with not a single notable power left in Equestria, Discord could have had his choice on how to destroy and rebuild the world as he saw accordingly. But if he left everything as a type of chaos, what was stopping that from becoming the new normal?

Chaos of the Mind. It might not have been as sweet or as satisfying as a mob of panicked ponies, but in some regard Discord thought he’d eventually find it to his liking. Comparable to some fine wine that takes years to discover its flavor.

But only at that very moment, deep within his thoughts, did he honestly believe that all this would be enough. Only deep within his thoughts, did he somehow believe that each and every loose thread he’d left scattered about, would just never find its way back to him.

It was such a beautiful lie.

Swift Flight looked at Sky Kicker across the table and for one fleeting moment forgot about his troubles. Feeling as he might, it was an easy thing to achieve—his head swimming quite gracefully in a sea of brown alcohol. If his friend sitting adjacent to him were keeping up with him cup for cup (as he knew he was), then he, too, should have been well into forgoing his sorrows.

“It still doesn’t make sense to me,” Flight said, his words tempting to smash together like far too many ponies on a couch. “Even after all this time, it doesn’t. Not one bit.”

Sky regarded him solemnly, before nodding his approval. It was a conversation he’d repeatedly brought up in the year since they’d both been sacked from the Guard, and if Sky knew anything about his friend, it was that this conversation might eat up the rest of the night.

“Simple assignment, right? Go find the Princesses.” Flight set down his drink and lifted both hooves for emphasis, as if such a worn story between the pair needed more detail. “Here’s where they are, here’s a map, now go get ‘em, and pronto. So what’s the problem? What happens? How do we botch that so hard?”

Flight let that hang in the air while he chewed on the edge of his tongue.

Sky grew tired of waiting. “We—”

“That’s right! We don’t!” To add clarity to his point, Flight lowered his hoof to the table. Realizing a cup was not held in said hoof, he repeated the motion with a real drink. “And that’s why I say… we were tricked! Same as those Princesses were!”

“No one really knows what went on with them, Flight. Only that they didn’t get to the Empire, and that Celestia died because of it. There’s… talk, but that’s it.”

Flight leaned across the table, one single throbbing eye leading along the rest of his face. “My rump that’s what happened! They were tricked and we were tricked and somehow they got off free as you please and yet we got canned! What’s fair about that? Hmm?”

Flight took another long pull from his drink and leaned dangerously far back in his bench seat. Since the bar him and his friend were currently in had housed them four or so times a week for the past year to help vent their frustrations (as well as spend whatever scrounged together bits they pooled to buy booze), Flight knew just when he’d had his limit. Now he was close.

And it was usually during these times that his mind would wonder back to that fateful day—the day that both him and Sky had somehow been flying in the clouds toward Baltimare to deliver a message, only to wakeup hours later in the middle of some field. It didn’t make sense then and it didn’t that night. From an outside perspective he had understood it must have looked pretty rough—the fate of the world depending on a message that someone couldn’t deliver because they fell asleep. So because of this, hooves became tied and their jobs became forfeited. At the time, Flight told himself he could understand—look at it from their perspective—but that still didn’t make it any less fair.

“I heard Sombra was way more powerful than before,” Sky said, shaking his head slowly, “so maybe he put some spell on anyone that got close to Princess Luna or Twilight. Seems possible. It’s just too bad that he’s dead so I can’t tell him how much I hate his guts.”

Flight drank and agreed with his friend. Although there was still something about it all that seemed to never sit right. “I heard Sombra was asking about both of them at the fight. Hoping to get a chance to gut them along with Celestia.” His source of such information was scattershot at best. Although, when someone was in their cups as deep as Flight was, a shoddy source still felt better than nothing.

Sky raised a brow. “You know how many ponies are even left from that fight? You didn’t hear anything, Flight. You’re just drunk.”

Undisturbed by the slight, Flight awkwardly clinked his cup into his friend’s. “And so are you.”

A pregnant pause later and both were laughing about nothing at all (one of the weird side effects of drinking until three in the morning). When they’d both settled down, they finally noticed the pony standing idle by their table.

“Can I sit?” he asked, glancing from side to side fretfully.

“Uh…” Flight mumbled.

“Thanks,” the unicorn said, before swinging into their little bench table.

Once seated, he hastily looked around a few more times before edging closer to the center of their table. “I heard what you two were talking about.”

Both Flight and Sky eyed each other warningly. “Oh?” Sky said.

“Yes. And I think you might be on to something.”

Flight let the air out he had been holding onto since the unicorn sat down. Then he reached for his cup again.

“I was there, at the Empire, when it all went down,” the unicorn continued. “I missed most of the action because I was running around inside, but there are things I remember that just don’t seem to make much sense.”

Sky patted him on the back good-naturedly. “You were lucky then, friend. Not many who went over there ever came back.”

“Thanks, I guess,” he said. “But I wouldn’t count myself all that lucky. I came back alive but I came back without a job, too. Everyone thought I’d gone yellow-bellied and hid inside while everyone else fought out in the open. The truth is that I can’t remember most of the battle because it’s like it’s been snipped from my memory.”

Flight abruptly spat a portion of his drink out while laughing heartily. When he viewed the two pairs of eyes scowling at him he coughed out the rest of his giggles. “Sorry… sorry! What happened sucks and I have no doubt about that, but while you were talking it just hit me that three fired guards are sitting here drinking at a bar. So who the heck’s gonna pick up the check!” That got him laughing again but it was mostly ignored.

Sky leaned closer to the unicorn. “You think Sombra might have been behind that? I heard things got pretty ridiculous over there.”

The unicorn shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think if Sombra even knew about me, he’d have just torn me apart and not have tried anything all that fancy. But one thing I do remember is talking with Lord Discord before I’d lost my memory.”

Overhearing this, Flight dried up again and set his cup down loudly. “Don’t call him that. Please don’t call him that. As far as I’m concerned he’s a placeholder until someone better takes the job and nothing more. Also, he’s just Discord in my mind. No titles for a creature like him.”

The unicorn waited a moment before chirping in. “He did save the Empire… and possibly most of Equestria.”

“How would you know? As far as I’m hearing, you were inside the whole time. So is what you’re telling me what you heard from the mouth of another?”

The unicorn leaned back in his seat and Sky placed his hooves between both parties. “All right, enough of this. No more petty squabbling, no more…” He motioned toward Flight. “…whatever it is your doing. Let’s just talk and realize we’ve all gotten the hard end of some very large shaft.”

“Fine with me!” Flight said hotly, although it appeared as though it was anything but.

Sky turned back to the unicorn. “What else do you remember? About Discord?”

“Well…” The unicorn studied the table while remembering. “I think he was trying to get me to hold some object for him. Something he was looking at all close. And all I remember afterwards is that his eyes were blue and not all weird like. Then he told me to get lost and I… kinda’ did.”

“While the rest of your allies were beaten to death by Sombra’s army…” Sky mumbled.

The unicorn rose from his seat. “At least I didn’t fall asleep on the job!”

Sky ran a hoof over his face and pulled the unicorn back down. Even though he thought he’d reached his limit several cups ago, another was sounding like just the ticket then.

He said above the other two, “All right, immature insults aside, what is it that’s troubling us? We all think we’ve been screwed over in a way, right? So how? What happened?”

Flight pointed a hoof between the pair. “Although Sombra stood the most to gain from the fight, I don’t think he’d have gone as far as some make it seem he had. Look, he was already busy with Celestia; a creepy army made of other ponies; a bunch of unhappy clouds; and, turning into a bucking dragon. I honestly can’t see him bothering with stopping a few letters or confusing you around Discord. It just seems… pointless, is all.”

“So who else then?” Sky asked. “Who else could use that kind of magic? Who else would use that kind of magic? And why?”

The unicorn lifted a hoof.

“This isn’t a classroom,” shot Flight. “You can talk.”

The unicorn pursed his lips. “Perhaps Lo… Perhaps Discord was the one. He didn’t have much power before all the Empire stuff, but now he’s nearly in charge of everything. I’m not sure exactly how it all fits together, but… it’s… it’s possible.”

Both Sky and Flight nodded gravely. On one or two occasions during their endless drunken banter the name of Discord had indeed entered their laundry list of others to lay blame on. But now an outsider had said the name for them. Could that mean they were actually on to something, and not simply venting out past grievances?

Flight said, “This is all started to sound very juicy, but I need to hit the head before we go any further.” He looked at Sky while exiting the bench. “Order us all a round. I think we have things to discuss.”

Nearly tripping over the bench he’d just left behind, Flight wobbled his way toward the back of the bar and to the bathroom, his head already blazing with the sudden fat question that had just so snuggly plopped itself there:

Discord? Lord Discord?

Flight entered the bathroom and let the door loudly swing shut behind him. He first eyed the stalls to his right before eyeing the trio of mirrors to his left. For close to a minute he viewed his reddened face, the added pounds that had slowly developed on his body since changing his diet to one of heavy drinks. But in the glowing light of drunkenness, he thought he looked damn good.

Giving his good-looking self one final smirk he turned to the stalls and chose the middle one, even though all three seemed empty. He shut the wooden door behind and took a seat, running a hoof through his mane while closing his eyes. Why had the world gotten so twirly-like? he wondered, before recalling the thirst-quenching activities of the last five hours.

Then, with his eyes closed and his head bent, Flight giggled to himself as something prickly brushed against his hindquarters. Being quite numb in the face, Flight barely even startled when he felt it.

“Do you mind?” A voice in the bathroom asked him.

Flight kept his eyes closed and rested his head on a hoof. “There are two others that work just as well! Get busy!”

“You even have any idea how much water that thing takes?”

“Umm… wait, what?”

It was then that Flight finally opened his eyes and saw that he wasn’t sitting in the bar bathroom at all anymore. Now he was in some concrete building, decorated to the nines and fancy as could be. But what was it that he was sitting on? He gave his head a turn and found himself seated on a plant; its thin trunk with all its little leaves and branches gently prodded his nether regions. With something closely resembling a yelp he leapt off and wobbled in place.

“I would ask you to make yourself at home but I think you’ve already done just as much.”

Flight found the source of the voice and now all the liquid that was still sloshing around inside him suddenly screamed how much it would love to escape—whether in a plant or rather on some expensive looking carpet.

Discord, seated comfortable behind his wide desk leaned forward to put his head in both hands. “Swift Flight, correct?”

“Uh… sure.” His mouth somehow felt much number than before.

“Good. I’m glad we cleared that up. And if my timing is correct—which it always is—your friends will be arriving in five… four… three...” Discord mouthed the last two numbers while pointing toward the door behind Flight.

Flight turned just in time to see Sky and the unicorn from their table wonder through the door, the conversation they might have been in the midst of drop off the moment they registered their drastic scenic change. When the unicorn crossed into the room, the door behind him slammed shut.

Flight didn’t waste anytime and trotted to the door, only to open it and find a wallpapered wall behind the frame.

“Let’s have us a chat, gentlecolts,” Discord said, as though nothing about this fazed him. He nodded towards one. “Sky Kicker?” Before the other. “Firm Ward?”

Both ponies eventually shook their heads in answer.

“Good. Then we’re all here and accounted for.”

Discord snapped himself to the middle of the room, causing the three others to shutter away.

“It’s come to my attention that all three of you have been quite the naughty little ponies as of late, spreading rumors and tales that just could never be true. Rumors and lies I have never been a fan of, gentlecolts. Especially not now… not while I’m in charge of things.”

Flight took a cursory step forward. “We weren’t talking about anything. And even if we was, how would you know anything about it?”

Flight heard Sky smack a hoof into his face but didn’t acknowledge it.

“Lord Discord,” the unicorn started, “anything you might have heard, it was just talk. That’s all. Ponies always tell stories to help pass the time… or while their drinking. It was nothing, honestly it wasn’t.”

Discord paced between the three, all three pairs of eyes following him with rapt attention. “Oh, I don’t mind that you were talking about such things. I just think it’s a shame you’ve been misinformed so terribly.” He walked through each pony in turn, his long neck allowing his head mere inches from each face. “The only reason Sombra returned to life was because of me. The only reason Celestia perished at the Empire is because of my doing. The only reason Twilight and Luna weren’t there to try and save everyone was because of me as well. Now do you understand just how wrong your facts were?”

The three terrified ponies glanced from one to the other, all hoping the other would be the one to speak out.

“Oh yes,” Discord continued. “And it’s also because of me that you all have scarves on.” He snapped three large and brightly colored scarves onto each of them. “Isn’t that nice of me?”

Oddly, it was unicorn that broke the trio’s silence. “It is?”

As quick as a candle flame blowing out did Discord’s original smile drop from his face. One more time he snapped and the office they were standing in disappeared. What replaced it was a thousand miles of white hills and blowing snow. All three ponies began to shake uncontrollably.

The draconequus said bluntly, “It’s a four day flight to civilization, if you pick the right direction to go. If you choose to take him along”—he pointed to the unicorn at their center—“that might make it six days. I’d think carefully if I were you.”

All three could only stare at Discord with widening horror as he brought his fingers to the side of his face. “Perhaps some tales between the three of you will help pass the time.” Then he snapped himself away, leaving all three of them to the bitter cold and the relentless wind, their brightly colored scarves angrily whipping around in the breeze.

Sky was the first to say anything. “We can make it. We can get out of this.”

It was such a beautiful lie.

Chapter 15: Beggars

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

BEGGARS

It was the middle of the night and she was flying through clouds, and she couldn’t explain at all how it was possible.

Sure, as a knowledgeable alicorn with wings it must have seemed like an uncomplicated situation to find oneself in, but hadn’t she been busy reading only a short moment ago? Of course she had. She was nearing the last few pages of her latest dry and dusty text when—

Twilight must be dreaming.

How? she thought mildly, as she felt the oddly real wind blow through her mane—the oddly real mist on her face as she floated under a darkened cloud. No one’s dreamed anything since Luna disappeared. And that was a year ago already.

A tip of something dark blue against the midnight sky, just barely out of sight.

“Luna?” she called.

She knew her voice shouldn’t echo in such a way outside and yet still it does. These were the rules of dreams. But if no one was allowed to dream anymore, why was she being allowed one?

Not a single noise answered her request. But still that feeling… that deep feeling that something was just out of sight, remained. If only she could find it, she thought. If only she could catch it.

Yet Twilight did not believe it wished to be found. Not yet.

“Luna?” she yelled once more. For close to a minute she hung in place; watched the slow moving clouds crisscross along the sky and slowly pass over the bright full moon. Then she got mad at the entire scene. “You can’t just leave Equestria without a Princess, Luna! Ponies are depending on you! I’m depending on you!” She had trouble articulating the rest. “What happened to Celestia was terrible, I know, but sometimes you need to put others ahead of yourself. Ponies look up to you, Luna… and I do too.” Her last few words were barely a whisper.

One by one, every major piece of her dream faded to black. First were the fields of clouds, popping away one by one; then went the moon, as bright as a spotlight against a tall black curtain. And still with nothing left in her dream, Twilight saw not a single trace of Princess Luna.

Only a small voice from above. “To you, Twilight, I give this small dream as a token of our friendship… and for the grief you must have also felt. But I am not ready to return. Not yet.” Then more quietly, “I wish you well.”

Twilight was about to add something more—something to try and pry Luna back to the world—but the taste of dry paper filled her senses a little too much to try and wade back there.

“Gah!”

She unstuck the edge of a page from her tongue and pushed the large tome across the table. She had fallen asleep over her books again, which was becoming quite the common occurrence as of late. Only this time she had actually dreamed. She must have been the only one in who knows how many nights…

“Doesn’t your neck ever get sore?” Spike popped his head out from the kitchen, a whisk and a bowl in the crook of one arm. “You want blueberries or apples in your pancakes?”

Twilight took a few more breaths to try and awaken her other senses. Also to make sure what she had just planned on doing still sounded somewhat sane in her head.

She said, “Keep it in the fridge ‘til later, Spike. There’s something I need to do in Canterlot before I lose my nerve.”

Spike stopped his hasty mixing. “Something new?”

Carefully Twilight viewed the remainder of her small cabin, with its many bookshelves and tables and couches and delicate pieces of art. And as it had always been, there was still that one item she would not allow vacancy. Flatly, she said, “No. Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Shining Armor, for what felt like the third time in as many days, sat transfixed upon the Crystal Heart he kept hidden in the deep recesses of his Empire. Still it was—perfect, untouched, unburdened. Still it sat—useless, colorless. Or was that only his objective musings?

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Shining turned to find Princess Cadence leaning against the doorframe, peering in as though she were happy to see him. Although it didn’t take much to know that just below the surface of that smile, was an unhealthy supply of worry.

“I’m sorry, Cadence,” he replied in a huff, “I keep on coming down here expecting something new to jump out at me and every time I do… it’s only the same. Same Crystal Heart as before.” He got up and trotted steadily toward her, head down. “Same useless Crystal Heart that didn’t do anything for anyone in this city…”

Cadence came forward and wrapped a leg around his neck. “Sombra came back as something we could never have been ready for, Shining. There was nothing any of us could do. While I was inside protecting the Crystal Heart, you were out there, fighting for the life of every pony in Equestria.”

Shining shook his head slowly. “But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.”

Cadence left him and went closer to the Heart. She gave it a light tap, causing it to spin gently around on the pedestal. “It does seem less vibrant than it used to be. Maybe the hearts of the Crystal ponies are not as strong as they once were. Maybe there is more we should be doing for them.”

Shining stopped near the doorway, his head still facing the floor. “I wish I could believe that, Cadence. That perhaps a big festival is all it’ll take to fix this… but something still isn’t right. And I intend to find out.”

Without another word he departed to start the long upward journey to the surface of the Empire, leaving Cadence with an odd chill that she just couldn’t shake away.

Rainbow Dash had the weirdest sense of déjà vu as she stood outside the closed classroom door. She was hesitating again—possibly worse—than when she went to visit Spitfire all those months ago. But hadn’t she been looking forward to this? Hadn’t she—

Or had all this been Soarin’s idea, flipped and spun and haggled until it was somehow mine?

Now she couldn’t remember at all. She only knew she didn’t want to open that door.

Roughly two weeks following the battle at the Empire, higher level dignitaries had paid the Dash household an impromptu visit. They wanted to see Soarin—about some very important and urgent matters.

“This could be the start of something big,” he had exclaimed to her, hours after they had left Soarin alone. “They want us to rebuild—start again!”

Soarin, who had been stuck in a perpetually large cloud of depression since the horrendous collapse of the Wonderbolts along with sixty-percent of its ranks, had appeared almost overjoyed following their meeting. More than anything, Rainbow did not want to take that away. Even through it all, she still loved to see him smile.

The officials that had made the house call told Soarin that since a new threat could perchance crop up at any time, a new Wonderbolts academy had been increasingly necessary. Since Spitfire had fallen in battle, that left Soarin as the most experienced member remaining. It would be a lot of work, but it would serve a far grander purpose. To all this Soarin had readily agreed, not exactly focusing on just how much work it might entirely entail.

“And we’re going to call it ‘Spitfire’s Wonderbolts Academy’!”

Soarin had been pacing around her hospital room since galloping in, his mouth flapping away as though trapped in a wind cyclone.

“You wouldn’t believe it, Rainbow, already enrollment is the highest it’s been in decades. Ever since word’s spread about the Wonderbolts defending the Empire, every flier in Equestria wants to be a part of it.” He paused for a brief moment. “It doesn’t mean that we’ll be letting everyone in, but just that notion alone is wonderful.”

He stopped again, and this time didn’t continue until he was only a few steps from her bed. He couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

“That also means we’re going to need more teachers, along with the students. We still have a handful from before, but not nearly enough. I would teach a course, but… I’m going to be swamped as it is.” He let it hang in the air. “Would you consider teaching again?”

Rainbow had hardly heard the question when an answer had already found itself logged in her head. The first moment she could, her mouth shot open, answer in tow. But the look on her husband’s face dried whatever blunt answer she had originally fathomed.

Instead she said, “I’ll… think about it.”

And sadly that was enough to make Soarin smile all over again; and enough to fill Rainbow’s guts with both feelings of dread and anxiety. But it would be months before things could start up again. She still had time. She still had loads of—

And now she was here. Standing outside her first class. Even right through the door she could hear the sounds of dozens of pegasi talking and writing and lightly flapping their wings. They were all waiting. They were all waiting for her and her alone.

It was all too much. So she turned to get away from it.

“Going somewhere?”

In her haste to spin and trot off, Rainbow had nearly collided with Soarin, who had been patiently standing idle behind her. He was wearing his new uniform and to her looked like a filly playing dress up. She truly had no idea he was standing right there the entire time.

But of COURSE he’d be here, she grumbled internally. There was never a CHANCE he’d let you get out of this!

Rainbow averted his gaze. “Oh, you know. Just going to go grab some water before the big first lesson. You probably don’t need to stand around and wait. You more than likely have some important… documents to sign or whatnot.”

Rainbow made to move away but a hooked leg around her made her come to a halt. “I may have documents,” he said sternly, “but those can wait. What’s going on here, Rainbow? I thought you wanted to do this? You had been preparing for weeks on lesson plans. You even gave the kids a private lesson just for practice! You’re not getting cold hooves are you? You’ve always liked the spotlight in some way.”

Overwhelmingly she wanted away from all this—away from all this right now.

“Well maybe I am getting cold hooves! Maybe I don’t dig the spotlight as much as others think! Maybe I’m just not that egotistical anymore!”

With that said, she stormed ahead, not exactly sure of where she was going but just wanting to move all the same. The only problem was that Soarin still had both wings, and could supersede her simply by flying right over her and cutting her off.

“I don’t believe that for a second, Rainbow. When you were part of the Wonderbolts, you loved to teach. And I just can’t believe at a time like this—when I need you this badly—you’d make me believe talking in front of a few dozen ponies is what’s bothering you. What’s really going on?”

A few tense moments passed and not a word was said. Rainbow would not meet his eyes even though she felt them nearly burn into her. Then he added matter-of-factly, “You know how fast your class enrollment filled up, Rainbow? How many ponies want to hear from you? Learn from you? Not to stroke your ego anymore than it needs to, but some pegasi think you’re some sort of legend in the art of flying. Plus, all the stories of all the things you and your friends did years ago.” He paused, trying to think of the best way to cap what he was getting at. “All I’m saying is ponies really do want to hear from you. If you’re worried about them not liking you, I can’t see that being a problem. No way.”

Since the start of their discussion, Rainbow had felt something irritating both eyes. Now it had only gotten worse.

She brought her head back up as the first few tears fell. “Please don’t make me go in there,” she quivered. “I don’t want to go in there, not like this. How much respect could a pegasus possibly get when they can’t even fly? I must have been kidding myself by coming here.” She shook her head from side to side. “I’m sorry, Soarin, but this was a mistake. Flying lessons from someone who can’t even get off the ground. They must all think it’s a joke. That’s why their in there now.”

Already Soarin was shaking his head in answer, although it would do little to sway her. “Everyone knows what happened to you, Rainbow. And you’ve only gotten more respect for it. You’re a hero! You tried to take on Sombra by yourself when no one else would! That does not make you weak, at all. That does not…”

When he finally took it to heart that his words had become nothing but bits of noise, he came to a stop. He said softly, “If you want to go, then go. I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do.”

Without another word, Rainbow ran passed him and out the doors, all the while promising herself that an act of bravery was the dumbest thing a pony could ever do, when all it ever seemed to lead to was nothing but misery and sorrow.

“How did you know you’d be able to raise the sun and the moon? Had you ever tried it before all this?”

Twilight was walking with Discord along the many rows of hedges and flowers in the Canterlot gardens. It would have been a near idyllic scene, if not for the mismatched draconequus that stuck out like a blood stain on a perfectly white backdrop.

Discord sighed. “No. Not really. It was never something that interested me, honestly. And the only reason I ever tried it was because everyone was getting so sick of the constant midday look. I thought it was fine… but I guess some ponies like that whole day night thing.”

Twilight giggled lightly. She was feeling a tad uneasy and was trying to make any conversation between the pair proceed as smoothly as possible. Sadly, awkwardness and Twilight always tended to travel hoof in hoof.

“Any news on Princess Luna?” Discord asked.

“Nothing, really,” she said. “When she left she took every last dream with her, and now no one gets to dream about anything at all. I had a small one just last night, but I think that was more a favor than anything. I don’t think she’s ready to return.”

“But you think she will return?” Discord raised an inquisitive brow.

“I think”—she hesitated—“given time she will. I just have no way of telling how long. It’s something I can’t possibly understand… losing someone so close to you after so many years.”

As the realization of what she’d just said finally hit her, Twilight’s pupils narrowed and she regarded him with a warped smile.

“I’m sorry, Discord. I know you must be feeling close to the same way with Celestia’s passing. I didn’t mean anything from what I’d just said.”

He waved a hand in the air. “No harm, Twilight. I have done my grieving for Celestia—I’ve also tried to keep myself busy, to help my mind cease from wandering. But truly, I do miss her, as I’m sure you do, too.”

Twilight closed her eyes and agreed. It was bizarre how often she could forget that her single most important teacher was gone and never coming back. Having been apart for so long, and since the sun and the moon were continuing to rotate as they should’ve been, more often than not she found herself thinking everything was just as it was before. And every time she remembered the truth of it all it was like opening a scarcely healed scar.

She hesitated before her next question. “How long were you and Celestia seeing each other before the Empire happened? I hadn’t the slightest idea you two even had feeling for each other.”

Discord looked a bit ruffled by the query. “Oh, it was an on and off again sort of thing—kind of hard to explain. We had courted centuries ago, before my first imprisonment in stone. After all that Tirek nastiness, some feelings came back and we became all the happier for it.”

“Never in her letters did she mention she was seeing you… or that she had any attachments to anyone, really.”

“But does that really shock you, Twilight,” he said smoothly. “Celestia was a big keeper of secrets, and I could only imagine her love life would have been the biggest secret of them all. Even when every eye in all the land was focused on her every little movement, she still liked to keep her little secrets tucked away. I guess I must have been one of them.”

A little forlorn, Twilight added, “It makes sense… I only thought her and I were a little closer than that. And since she already told me in her letters about what you were up to in Canterlot, I thought perhaps she would have included your relationship in there as well. But I guess that’s just getting a little nosey, isn’t it?”

The draconequus nodded briskly. “Yes. Yes it is.”

They reached a little white bench and Discord motioned over to it. He patted the section beside him and Twilight sat down, all at once enjoying the gentle breeze and the fresh smell of Canterlot’s expansive garden, but also hating what topic was surely to follow. Although it was the only reason she was there.

“Alright Twilight,” he said lightly, “enough about the skeletons in my closet—my closet’s packed enough as is—what is it that’s troubling you? You did come all the way here for a reason, didn’t you?”

“I did,” she said without much conviction, “but now that I’m here it only seems that much sillier and that much more… ridiculous. But at the same time if I don’t ask then I’ll only go home and wonder about why I just didn’t ask and then—”

“Sorry to interject, Twilight,” he cut in. “But you’re going all Twilight on me now.”

A small smile dotted her face. “Yeah, I do that sometimes.” She took a breath to start anew. “You remember when I became an alicorn?”

“Yes. I wasn’t around for the unveiling, but I remember hearing about it. And then obviously I saw all this.” He picked up one of her wings like some endangered animal.

“Well, all that happened just a few months after we reformed you, and…”

She shot him a hurried glance. “I mean, after we befriended you.”

Discord rolled his eyes. “Tomato—tomatoe.”

“Anyway,” she continued, “long story short, I recall Celestia wanted to use your magic for some reason, although she never specifically said how or why. And so I thought… that perhaps you had something to do with these.” She flicked up both wings, eyeing them both without much interest.

For the most part Discord was a creature of exaggerated movements. After her request, she was more than a little alarmed to find him nearly stock still on the bench, the only movement being his eyes, which had instantly become very wide very fast.

“Oh… I… don’t have any…” he began to sputter.

Twilight gasped. “So you did have something to do with it!”

“I’m not saying that at all, Twilight!”

“But you kind of are! I can tell, Discord!”

Discord loosened his long body until he was nearly draped over the bench. While his head nearly touched the ground behind his seat, he mumbled, “I might have had a little to do with what happened.”

And that was it. That was all it took.

Every fear and every insecurity that had been panging her on that far too long trip over had vanished like smoke. Instantly, Twilight could see everything she would do once it was gone. Everything she would experience and the ponies she would want to see again. She had waited long enough—possibly too long, perhaps—but now it would all come to an end. Now she could be normal again. Now she could look at herself in the mirror without wanting to smash it in turn. Oh why had she waited so long? she wanted to scream. When the answer was standing right in front of her this whole time?

She nearly ground both forelegs into his chest. “Oh please Discord, oh please! I don’t want this anymore! I don’t want to live forever while I can’t enjoy any of it! There’s just… too much I didn’t know. Too much I had no way of knowing.” And now the tears had found her, but she let them come. “It’s not fair, Discord. I didn’t start out like this—I didn’t start out immortal. I never asked for this. I was normal. I was going to live and I was going to die with my friends—I was going to be as normal as the rest of them, along with our little adventures, which was fine! And now I only have a select few to hold onto—the ones that would never leave me. But now who’s left, Discord? Celestia’s gone! Luna’s vanished! Now there are only a few of us left anymore and you were the ones that were never supposed to go away! I needed them, Discord. As greedy as it sounds. I…” She swallowed back another thick chunk of what she had wanted to say. She knew she had to get to the point before she blubbered away to nothingness. “I don’t want to be an alicorn anymore, Discord. If you need to take the wings back, that’s fine, but I can’t live forever if this is all there is—age and death and the inability to hold onto anything forever.”

Mere inches from his face, Twilight quivered as her eyes swam in a sea of water. More than a few times Discord opened his mouth in an attempt at speech, but found any words hard to come by.

“I can’t take away a gift I did not give you, Twilight,” he said slowly. “I gave you your wings, with a spell that even I can’t reverse. Your immortality was given to you by Celestia, due to all the deeds you’ve done for Equestria. If it could have been reversed, I have no idea. Those secrets died with her, I’m afraid.”

A cold numbness edged its way throughout Twilight’s body. She watched as she removed herself from Discord’s chest and sat solemnly back down on the bench while she felt none of it at all. Her eyes had stopped running but she made no effort to clean up her face. Suddenly the idea of moving at all seemed like too much an ordeal.

And that’s that, she thought distantly. The last door closes and I live on… forever.

An eagle’s claw with a tissue floated into her vision. Gently it wiped away her tears, before wrapping itself around her shoulder. He pulled her in close.

“You need to know that Celestia only did what she did because she thought it would better all of Equestria. She did not do it to hurt you, or change you, only to better help everyone. Even now you are her best student, having saved the world countless times already. As I’m currently discovering with my new duties in this land, it’s that sometimes we need to live for more than just ourselves, as odd as it might sound for someone like me to say.”

Twilight listened and nodded against him. Any energy she might have had to perhaps interject had dissipated while she had made her original speech.

“At some point in the future, Twilight, you will look back at this hard time and realize the lessons it has taught you. No one is ever done learning, I think. Consider myself and friendship. Right?” Discord rose from the bench to face the alicorn. “Now let’s not ruin this little visit by ending it here! Let’s do something fun!”

Twilight viewed him dryly for a while, before eventually caving in. How many immortal friends did she have left, anyway?

“Sure,” she said.

Having turned down Discord’s original offer of flying through a sky of cotton candy clouds or a giant chess game with enchanted pieces, Twilight settled on the simplest choice of ice cream from a local vendor. While she chose strawberry, Discord spent close to ten minutes creating a bowling ball-sized ice cream scoop that somehow changed flavors the deeper you went. It was like a mini diorama leading to the center of the earth.

“One thing I still don’t understand after everything is how Sombra could have known where I was,” she said, while carelessly munching on her remaining cone.

Discord gave her a bland expression. “I thought we were talking of happier times, Twilight.”

“I want to, but it still bugs me. A lot. Luna and I were effortlessly sidetracked away from the largest battle in millennia, and how it all happened is still lost on me. It also doesn’t seem like something Sombra would do. He was blunter with his actions. This took some planning… or at least some finesse.”

“Did you know he also turned into a dragon?” Discord said thickly, between very large mouthfuls of every-color ice cream. “He played a stronger game this time around. No one knew what to expect. If you’re thinking of blaming yourself, I wouldn’t Twilight. No one can predict everything.”

Twilight set down the remainder of her cone. “I don’t… or I try not to. But a little part of me always wonders if he had an accomplice or not—someone helping him with the smaller details.”

“You ever met the pony in question?”

“Well, sort of, I guess,” she answered awkwardly.

“Really?”

She thought again. “I guess he was more like smoke when I saw him, so…”

“So then you didn’t really meet him,” Discord finished. “I did. A little too much, honestly. But I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that he seemed like a one-pony show. He was a King remember. Kings don’t like to share anything.”

Twilight nodded, then brightened. She smiled. “What about ‘Lords’?”

Discord smiled back. “Oh, we share. From time to time. You want a bite of my ice cream?” He still had close to half a ball left.

She shook her head. “I think I’ve had my fill for today. I’d better—”

“Lord Discord! Lord Discord!”

An out of breath guard had just entered their establishment, giving a hurried salute as the little bell above the entrance jingled away.

Discord cocked his head. “What is it? Don’t you know this is my daily scheduled ice cream time?”

The guard blanched. “It… it is?”

“That was a joke—continue on.” Discord chewed as he spoke.

“There’s a representative here from the Crystal Empire. He says it’s urgent he speak with you.”

He gave a sour eye to Twilight. “Don’t they all say that?” Then he stood, while snapping his leftovers into a white takeaway bag. “I’m sorry we must conclude on such a blunt note, Twilight, but business is business. Let me know how your research goes, my dear. And good luck.”

With another snap of his fingers, Discord disappeared and the guard that had just entered vacated swiftly. Soon following, Twilight left as well, once again not feeling all that much better or worse from her short visit of Canterlot.

Although more than a few plaguing questions had somehow found their way into the back of her mind.

Since entering Discord’s large and lush office, Shining Armor had been intently staring at a wall clock—one where the numbers spun around while the arrows stayed where they were. For only a few seconds could he watch, before the sight alone made him dizzy. After a time he instead tried to focus on the task at hoof… and just how he’d go about doing it.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Shining Armor! How good of you to drop in.”

The draconequus had manifested himself behind his desk, mismatched feet already crossed over the top. Was he trying to spook him? Or only appear casual in front of his guest?

“Discord,” he greeted plainly. “I guess you heard I’d arrived.”

“I did indeed, Shining! And then I came right over. What is it you need this time? More of my workers to help piece together your little Empire?”

Shining got off his seat and walked towards the desk. As he got closer, Discord’s complete lack of care seemed to edge away just a bit.

Shining said, “No. Not this time. By the way, the Empire isn’t little and it’s doing just fine on its own. We’ve made a lot of recovery since Sombra’s attack. You were there, Discord. I’m sure you remember it all.”

“You know they call me ‘Lord’ now,” he said, ignoring most of what he’d said.

“I do.”

A length of inactivity spun out, until Discord put both arms behind his back and broke the silence. “So what is it you want? I’m kinda’ busy these days.”

Shining regarded him dryly. “Then you’ll be happy to know I only have one question in mind.”

“That being?”

“What you can tell me about the Crystal Heart.”

Discord huffed annoyingly. “Really? This again? So since your little Heart didn’t save the day in the end against Sombra it’s now somehow all my fault? Or is it only because I’m in a minor position of power now that you think you can unload all your troubles onto me? Is that how being a leader to thousands works? They blame you and you just take it?”

And all along this little outburst, Shining held that same look of mild curiosity. It had been such a simple question he had asked, so why was he getting so defensive about it so fast?

“I just wanted to grasp how much you knew about it, Discord. That’s all. Most ponies know of its existence, but that doesn’t mean they know every last detail about it. Unlike you. You even knew where it was kept in the Empire basements.”

Discord appeared as though he were gnawing on something quite nasty and bitter. “Yes… and?”

“You know how many ponies know of its location? Four—including you.”

“Do I get some sort of membership card?”

“You know how badly Sombra wanted back that Heart, Discord? You know what he would’ve done just to get it back?”

“Asked nicely?”

Shining could quickly tell Discord was loosing interest.

“Sombra came back as something no one could expect. He had never been as powerful as he was on that day. So you know what I believe, Discord? I believe someone took the Heart and somehow gave it to him. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but the list of suspects is surprisingly short. I also don’t think for a single second that the Heart I have at my Empire is the real thing. No way. You couldn’t even get the color right.”

Discord’s annoyed and worn expression changed to one of deep loathing. As he spoke he nearly snarled. “You DARE to insinuate that I helped Sombra destroy the Empire? Need I REMIND you of who exactly SAVED your sorry little Crystal city?”

Discord was now standing tall and rigid behind his desk, both fists closed tight and visibly shaking. Shining, as tough as it was, had remained stationary and unmoving throughout this little tantrum.

“No one saw you defeat him, Discord. All anyone witnessed was you, Celestia, and Sombra enter the Tower together, and somehow at the end of it all you were the only one that walked away. It became your word against everyone else’s. Who’s to say what really happened in there?”

Slowly the draconequus sat back down and gave the stallion a piercing stare. He said haltingly, “You better choose your next few words carefully, Shining Armor. I am not the same creature you might have been able to insult in the past, nor claim to be a murderer.”

Shining swallowed thickly. He asked, “Did you take the Crystal Heart from the Empire?”

Rather than saying anything to the contrary, Discord instead lost what little resolve he had left. A few beads of sweat had recently dotted his brow, and even his originally clenched and sneering jaw seemed to slacken considerably.

Could Shining have been actually getting to him?

Shining continued without an answer. “Did you use it to somehow help King Sombra?”

Discord’s pupils shrunk and he began to quiver lightly. It was almost as scary as when he was mad.

Shining licked his lips before his last question. “Did you aid Sombra in killing Princess Celestia?”

And that was when the flood began.

Bringing an arm to cover both eyes, Discord openly wept and fell heavily to his desk. Long and loud brays of anguish soon followed and his entire body quaked with odd spasms. Shining, meanwhile, could only stand and watch with horrific fascination at just what exactly was going on. But this still didn’t completely answer—

“I did it!” Discord yelled between overwrought sobs. “Yes, it was me! I helped Sombra! I stole the Heart! And I got Celestia killed!” Then he wept all the harder.

As much as Shining wanted to smile at his own—unknown to him—skills of interrogation (could he even consider this an interrogation?) all he felt at the time was an overwhelming heat along his face. The largest secret in possibly all of Equestria had just been revealed to him and him alone. He had to act accordingly. He had to do something. Actually, a lot of things.

“Discord! Stop your crying. It won’t—”

But that was when Discord—still in mid-anguish—slithered over his desk and latched both hands onto the front of his uniform. Once there he stared up at the stallion, eyes swimming in tears and a thin line of snot dangling from his nose.

“Celestia wasn’t supposed to die! She wasn’t!” he pleaded, in that horrible out-of-character voice. “I only wanted to see what would happen, honestly I did! It was never supposed to go as far as that!”

Shining took a few steps back in an attempt to knock the crying and shuddering creature away. Still he held on tight.

Shining said with added force, “It doesn’t matter how you feel, Discord. You will pay for your crimes. You’ve gone too—”

Somehow Discord’s grotesque face got even closer to him. “You can’t tell them, Shining! You just can’t! They’ll tear me apart if they knew what happened! No, even worse! They’ll tear me apart and then turn me to stone! Shining, no, no, no you can’t! That wouldn’t be like you! You’re the good guy in times like these!”

“I… You should have thought…” Shining needed to get away from that all consuming, tear drenched face. He also needed to know one last thing while the timing seemed right. “What did you do with the Heart? Where did you put it?”

Discord finally stopped balling for a moment. “I can’t tell you,” he said, before violently shaking his head. “They can’t know I did that too!”

Shining did not turn away. “Where is it?”

“I… can’t…” but even Discord couldn’t control his ever moving eyes, which more than once flickered in the direction of his desk.

With a hard shove Shining flung him to the floor and trotted around his desk, sidling along a bookcase to get around its ludicrous size. Once around, he pointed at the only door on that side of the room—a door a few feet smaller than most.

He asked thickly, “Have you been keeping the Crystal Heart in here the whole time, Discord?”

Cradled on the floor, Discord held out a hand to him. “Please don’t open that! If anyone finds out they’ll never trust me again!”

Shining put a hoof on the doorknob. “You should have thought about that before—” But that was when something else entirely grabbed his hoof.

Quickly he glanced at the knob—once a simple brown oval, now a clutching eagle’s claw wrapped tight around his hoof. Before he could get another word out it yanked him through the doorway, releasing his hoof at the last moment to send him sputtering away.

Shining’s first thought was that he’d lost his vision, for all he saw was white on top of white. But the sudden cold that bit at every exposed part of him foretold what little else needed to be explained.

Still splayed out rather ungracefully in a mound of snow, Shining could only watch as the steady and sure body of Discord slid into the frame of the door—an odd rectangular object in a vast expanse of white. Any tears that he might have shed only seconds ago had all but disappeared.

He yelled above the wind, “I can only hope Cadence’s next husband isn’t quite so gullible.” He grabbed the knob on the door. “Ariva derchi, Shiny! Say hello for me to some of your guards, should you happen to come across them!”

Then with a hurried laugh he slammed the door, causing it to disappear instantly.

And up until then Shining had thought it had been going so well…

Chapter 16: The Fray

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

THE FRAY

A mare had just asked her a question and she couldn’t for the life of her recall what it had been.

“Uhh… I’m sorry, what?” Twilight asked, a little red in the cheeks.

“That’ll be seven bits.” The cashier gave her a winning smile, not in anyway agitated by Twilight’s complete lack of awareness.

“Oh, right.”

Twilight had nearly forgotten she was in the midst of shopping in Baltimare that day. A few things she had needed to pick up—or was it only because she wanted out from the house? Either way, she was out and about and the sun had felt great on her face all morning. But with that glowing warmth came all those questions too. And possibly that’s why she could barely pay attention to the most evident of things.

“Here we go!” Twilight hovered her small coin purse onto the counter and counted out each bit. Her cheeks became even redder as she stopped at bit number six. She laughed timidly. “I’ll… go put something back.”

“Nonsense!” the cashier exclaimed, that smile never seeming to leave her face. “What’s one bit between friends?”

Twilight thought for a moment. “I don’t even know your name.”

The cashier began loading her things into a bag regardless. “I know that silly! It’s only what Princess Celestia and Lord Discord would have wanted. You know their saying.”

Twilight scooped up her bag while making a mental note to shop somewhere else next time. “Actually… I don’t.”

“It’s that love with always conquer all! Whether that means friends or family or romantic endeavors…” The cashier stared away longingly, before snapping back. “Have a great day now!”

Twilight smiled as best she could and trotted out from the store. Somehow she thought that smile of hers would haunt her the rest of the day. But was that cashier really that only one in the city acting in such a way? Twilight could remember a time when Baltimare had its fair share of shady ponies and overall rude individuals, yet hadn’t there seemed to be so much less of them today? All since Discord took over most of Equestria?

“Whoa!”

Deep in her thoughts Twilight smashed her hoof onto a curb, her saddlebag flying a few feet from her. Just as she was worrying about her bundles of fruit an odd amount more than her face connecting with the street, a thin white light kept her bag in the air.

“That was a close one, miss!”

“Here let me help you up!”

Twilight turned around from her awkward fall to find one unicorn holding her bag while another held out a hoof to her. She took it and got back to her hooves.

“Thank you,” she said, while grabbing her bag back.

“Not a problem,” the unicorn said. “Always help a friend in need no matter the case!”

Twilight looked around the bustling street, as if perhaps this was all a farce of some sort. “And who taught you that, may I ask?”

“Princess Celestia and Lord Discord of course!”

Twilight shut her eyes and pursed her lips, curious as to why she hadn’t sent Spike on this errand.

“Oh my! Are you an alicorn?”

The stallion that had helped her up had taken to her wings as if never viewing a pair before.

“Actually, I am,” she said bluntly.

“And a Princess too?”

She hesitated. “Yes. That too.”

Twilight had never wanted to seem too egotistical, but were there really ponies that didn’t know each and every alicorn in Equestria? Especially ones that had defended all of civilization countless times before?

“Are you a new one?” Somehow he had become even more fascinated with her.

Twilight said gruffly, “No. I guess I’m still the newest one—if you want to put it that way. But I’ve been an alicorn for over a decade now. Princess Twilight Sparkle. Does that ring any bells?”

The stallion scratched his chin. “I think it does. So why aren’t you ruling in Canterlot or something? Did you retire?”

“I… umm…” She honestly had no idea of how to answer that. As much as she would like to believe on the contrary, had she in some small way packed it all in and called it a day? She truly hoped it hadn’t come so soon… but what had she honestly been up to these past few years?

“Anyway, gotta’ run! Have yourself a great day!” Then the stallion trotted off.

She said to the unicorn still by her side. “He seems chipper. For someone that looks like they’re late for something.”

The unicorn watched the stallion gallop up the sidewalk, barely phased by the small fact that he had just helped an alicorn. “I think like most ponies, he’s found a bit of happiness in his life he might not have felt before.”

“How could you—” she started.

“From the love of Celestia and Discord, of course. Each of them made a sacrifice on ‘That Day’—whether by giving their life away, or by changing their very existence for the better—and they did it all for the benefit of Equestria. I think together they showed the world that love could still prevail over anything. And I think it’s had a nice affect on most. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Twilight stood dumbstruck, again wondering if these were not just some actors in a play. But could the faces and the smiles of most that walked by her honestly be false? Was there not actually more love in this world since the events of ‘That Day’?

“I’m not sure,” she finally said. “But I can guarantee only the smallest of portions of these ponies could have ever met Celestia or Discord. So just how could it all have such a profound affect on them all?”

The unicorn finally fixed his gaze on her. Unsurprisingly, he had been smiling their whole chat. “I think ponies—most ponies—want to feel good. They also like to believe in heroes that can stand for something. If Celestia and Discord could make such a sacrifice, why can’t the rest of us?”

Before Twilight could say anything more, he said, “You have a great day,” and then trotted away.

With slow lips she mumbled, “You too,” but it was already barely a noise.

Somehow she had met some of the weirdest ponies in a long while and had come back feeling all the better for it. So what exactly had happened to her world while she had been cooped inside missing it?

By the time she had arrived back home she was nearly prancing through the door. In the short walk from the store to the edge of the city and the bit of green forest beyond, more than half-a-dozen other strollers had wished her a pleasant day—one even going so far as to compliment her prettiness. As much as she had wanted to remind herself it could all have been due to nothing more than her alicorn nobility, she had then watched the same exact ponies greet others in the same way they had greeted her.

“Hello Spike!” she nearly sang, setting her bags in the kitchen.

Spike had a broom and a dustpan in both hands, carefully sweeping around the couch and tables. “You seem happier than when you left. Discounted books again?”

“No exactly,” she said, before thinking. “When was the last time I went into town, Spike?”

Spike didn’t budge from his cleaning. “I don’t know. A long time. Probably sometime before all that Empire craziness. Why?”

Had it really been that long? she thought. Perhaps it had.

“Because everyone seems all nice all a sudden. It’s weird in a way, but it’s admirable too.”

Spike lifted one side of the couch to get under it. “It’s been like that for a while, Twilight. It’s as Celestia and Discord always said—”

The item Twilight had been hovering to a cabinet splattered on the floor. “Oh, not you too, Spike! You follow all that oohey-gooey, feel-good junk?”

Although he didn’t look up, Twilight could tell she’d just embarrassed him. Nevertheless he said, “If I want to read the continuing adventures of Celestia and Discord in my free time, then that’s no one’s business but my own. And what’s the harm, Twilight? If it’s not hurting anyone and its message is simple and nice. Why can’t I like it?”

Twilight had no retort in store, so instead she glanced at the mound of letters on another counter. She got closer and noticed the blackened smudges and heavy amount of dust and soot on each. “Spike, where did these come from?” she asked cautiously.

Finally Spike turned away from his work. “Weirdest thing. I was cleaning out the fireplace after who knows how long, and all these letters were jammed together near the top. Most of them had a royal seal and everything.”

Twilight blew along the stack of envelopes, sending a layer of dust skittering away. All in one whoosh had her good feelings departed.

Had it really all come so soon? Had he really chanced it all away? Was this really the first mistake in his plan—the first crack in his otherwise perfect design?

Even while he laughed and closed the door on a more than startled Shining Armor, had Discord’s small bit of giddiness dried away. Returning to his chair he then promptly told himself what he had done had been completely necessary. Completely.

But was it? Was it really?

Discord hated to doubt himself, so he summoned another cup of his blackened drink to help sooth his nerves. A few sips in and he was already giggling at his impromptu performance. Every layer he had unknowingly added—every time, he had surprised even himself with his near perfected acting chops. Tears, snot, all the sobbing he could muster. It had made for one very startled Captain of the Guards.

“By why had I done it in the first place?” he asked his empty office, that odd hard lump in his stomach that had no place existing inside such a creature.

Sure, Shining would have asked his questions like he had countless times before—staring daggers into him the entire time he did. He could have brought up point after point of ‘supposed’ proof, and each one the draconequus could have laughed off and replied with a simple: try again later. The stallion had had nothing on him, he knew. Not a SINGLE fact. So why had he caved like he had? Why had he pretended to cave like he had, just to send him into the snow rightly there after?

True, he had always partially hated the stallion do-gooder in all his do-gooderish ways, but in no certain terms had he ever considered him a threat. No. He had only been a nuisance and nothing more. So why had he given him everything so readily?

“Because I then disposed of him,” he told himself plainly.

Him, his mind echoed back, but not every trace of him.

Cadence would have known where he had gone—even Twilight had overheard that someone from the Crystal Empire had come to see him. How many days could he get away from it all before they started checking in? Two? Three tops?

The draconequus sank in his chair, clutching his warm mug close to his chest.

For the briefest of moments he debated opening that door again—finding Shining and bringing him back, explaining the hilarious joke that somehow flew right over his head. It’s funny! Right Shining? No hard feelings, because it was just a JOKE! Want to build a snow-pony, my friend?

“It’s too late for that, I’m afraid.”

Discord set his cup down on the desk, not all that thirsty anymore. It was then he remembered his short conversation with Sombra, as his dark puppet clung to the last few inches of life on the floor of the Crystal Tower. These were the types of scenes that would tuck the draconequus into bed each night with a smile edged on his angelic face… only now it all seemed to have such greater meaning.

“Chaos needs order,” he had told what remained of Sombra on the floor, before roughly explaining to him that ilk of his kind had never been meant to succeed.

But that had been for Sombra and Sombra alone. He was the villain—meant to lose and go away once the battle was done. Discord had only done what he had done to survive. To live as he was meant to. He was no villain, right? He had only placed certain parties in precarious situations, but he had never actually been the one to give the killing blow. Right?

Discord rose from his desk to stand by his overlong window. For close to fifteen minutes he watched his citizens trot to and fro along their busy lives, greeting each other happily and without care. Order had found its way to Canterlot, and perhaps Equestria too. Order had also found its way to Discord, whether he knew it or not.

Hadn’t his one fear in his long, long life been remaining still while others could move?

Having been encased in stone more than once, he knew it all too well. So is that what was happening now? Was he already growing tired of his sun and moon duties and the overall blandness of ruling a nation? Sure, for over ten years he had bidden his time to get his pieces in place, but he had been overall busy throughout—spreading lies and tormenting Sombra and coaxing Celestia and pushing away Twilight all the while keeping his strings hidden from view.

It had been such a grand game. And now that game was over and he had won. What more had been left in his way besides more questions and accusations? Concrete proof could never have been found.

Still longingly viewing his timely creation, he whispered, “Chaos of the self?,” before promising that anyone else that tried to interfere with him would only drown with him for all their troubles.

Rainbow Dash sat at a picnic table near a park close to her home. Both her fillies were flying gracefully in the air, circling one another but never completely connecting. Already they showed promise. Already their Wonderbolts pajamas seemed pre-destined for them both.

“Ten more minutes you two!” she yelled up. “And then we’re going back for lunch!”

Both fillies nodded absently, more concerned with touching the tips of some of lower hanging clouds.

Despite the smile on her face and the heat from the day, Rainbow still felt that chunk of ice in her stomach, one that seemed to only appear when she watched the flight of others. It was sadly something she didn’t know if she would ever get used to.

“Mind if I sit?”

A higher-pitched voice.

Rainbow turned to face them and a full seven seconds passed before it all clicked.

“Scootaloo?”

“Who else?”

Along with her other childhood cohorts, Scootaloo had grown and was now the size of Rainbow Dash and all of her friends during their times of adventure and fun. Her hair she still kept short; her wings had never quite reached where most pegasus’ should.

She took a seat and immediately began to follow the two pegasi in the air. “They’re naturals, Rainbow Dash. But I’m not surprised.”

“Thanks. Their father’s a good teacher.”

Scootaloo turned to her. “I’m sure their mother is too.”

And just like that, Rainbow’s chunk of ice seemed only to expand.

She couldn’t face her then. “Soarin sent you, didn’t he?”

Scootaloo let out a huff and ran a hoof through her mane. “Well… maybe with a tiny, little letter. But I’ve been meaning to see you anyways, after all that’s happened in the past year.”

Rainbow eyed her useless, bandaged wing with venom. “You mean when I went from an expert flyer to a nobody?”

“I think you’re looking at it the wrong—” Scootaloo began.

“I can’t see how I’m doing that, exactly. The evidence is pretty darn clear. My kids are up there and I’m down here so—”

Scootaloo surprised the pegasus by abruptly getting up and standing right in front of her. “Even after all these years it still shocks me how self-centered you can be, Rainbow Dash. Sure, you might have lost a wing and your ability to fly, but that doesn’t mean it gives you license to stop being who you were. It’s not… it’s not just our gifts that make us who we are, Rainbow, or how we interact with the world and others in turn. You think your friends or Soarin for that matter only stuck around you to watch you fly?”

Scootaloo sat back down with a thud, leaving Rainbow to gnaw at the air like a fish out of water.

Scootaloo continued, “When I was younger, all I wanted to do was fly like the rest of you—possibly even become a member of the Wonderbolts in time. For years that was the dream. All I wanted. But slowly as I grew older I just knew that wasn’t in the cards for me. Sure, it hurt at the time. It hurt bad. But I eventually looked past it and still found I had a lot to give.” She looked down at her rump where her cutie mark of a small red scooter stood prominent. “Remember when I got this?”

Actually, Rainbow did. Quite clearly, too. Pinkie Pie had been preparing for an extra large party for close to a month, all the while forgetting that one tiny detail known as sending out invitations. Out from the street she had scooped up Scootaloo and shoved close to a hundred letters in her hooves, different addresses all. Without much expressed between the pair, Scootaloo was off on her scooter, barely thirty-minutes ticking by until each and every letter had been delivered.

When she returned back to Pinkie, her cutie mark had already appeared.

“Looking back,” Scootaloo said, “it should have been obvious. Horrifically obvious. But I had my head in the clouds and not on the ground. Now I deliver items for a living, and I’ve never been happier. I just had to stop focusing on what can’t be changed and start on everything else. It’s not just our talents that make us who we are—especially not to the ones that care about us the most.”

Scootaloo got up again and enveloped her in a hug, mindful of her damaged wing.

She said, “I looked up to you as a filly, Rainbow Dash. And I still do. You just can’t give up on yourself. Not like this. That just wouldn’t be who you are.”

Before another word could be uttered, Scootaloo hoped aboard her scooter and blazed away, sending up small twigs and leaves in her trail. And to think Rainbow had known so little of what she’d been going through all those years ago.

Not exactly knowing how to feel about all that, Rainbow then filled her vision with her tiny fillies once more, strongly hoping at least a fraction of what Scootaloo had told her could potentially be true.

Discord was there. Standing and looking at the ground. But what was there exactly?

A second form took shape and the still body of Celestia filled another part of the completely black void. It was the almost the same scene she had heard about from others—the story of how Discord had openly wept while cradling her in his arms.

Only this wasn’t playing out like that. Not at all.

Now Discord was moving away from her, an uncaring expression on his face. He looked up as though another someone had just entered the room. Had it been Sombra? Had this been how it all came to be?

But in no regard had she expected it to all look so casual. So planned. What exactly was this all getting at? And why was she even glimpsing it in the first place?

Then came the burdening notion that she was dreaming again.

But why? And why now?

The scene faded to black and another image took its place. Now she was viewing her cabin—her own self in her kitchen, staring intently at the small stack of letters Spike had just uncovered from the fireplace. Slowly and carefully she had opened and read each one. Six came from Celestia herself, each message becoming shorter and shorter and more to the point. The last few she did not even sign at the bottom. Celestia had needed help unlike any other time in her life, and Twilight hadn’t known a thing. The last letter had been sent by Rainbow Dash and it indicated she meant to go to the Empire to help. She did not beg but instead requested the aid of each of her old friends—the Elements of Harmony summoned anew. At least Twilight now knew how all of her friends had arrived there when she hadn’t.

Yet in no way did it make her feel any better for it.

The Twilight in her dream set down the final letter and stared away into nothingness. Having occurred less than a few hours ago, Twilight remembered clearly what it was she had been thinking. It still doesn’t make sense, she had thought coldly. I still can’t believe Sombra would do this—COULD do this. And then it had only snowballed from there.

Every odd occurrence and happening during Luna’s short visit; the lack of ability to see either Princess during her first visit of Canterlot; the letter that Luna was sent while she received one of her own. A part of her wanted to shrug it all off and let sleeping dogs lie, but she had never been the type to ponder and not come away with an answer.

“Discord?” she had whispered standing over her letters, and even as she watched her dream version cover her mouth with a hoof after just uttering such a travesty, the one that watched it all felt like doing close to the same.

And that was when that part of her dream ended, and she found herself back in a sea of clouds. But unlike her original tepid dream of fluffy clouds and a beautiful full moon, she only watched reddened hills of distorted fog, and a wind that only felt like it wanted to blow her off course.

“Luna!” she tried to yell above the wind.

After she had shouted the weather increased its distress hurriedly. Now Twilight was sure she would be ripped from the sky at any moment. But before she called out again it had ceased completely, leaving nothing but a pitch black expanse.

A tired Luna whispered in her ear. “I am sorry to use you as I have, child. But now I know what must be done.”

The feeling of a sharp drop befell the alicorn and she woke up cradling her sheets in both hooves. She allowed herself two shaky breathes before she bolted from her bed, flinging her small cabin door open with her horn hard enough to nearly break both hinges.

It felt like only moments had passed since she had stirred from that terrible dream. Flying as fast as her wings would carry her (as well as nimbly using a short-ranged teleportation spell to cut several hundred meters in a single go), Twilight made it to the lush green forests right ahead of the Canterlot bridge in what must have been record time.

On quivering knees she landed, and gulped in the cool mid-night air. She knew it was still sometime in the middle of the night, and all of Canterlot appeared dark and shut down. Only a few lights in a few small windows dotted its expanse; complete with its many peaks and oddly smooth spires. She had always wanted to meet the architect responsible for its design, just to know how much they drank each night.

She huffed out a shaky breath.

Canterlot looked the same as it always had. Whatever might be happening tonight, she hadn’t missed. If it would happen at all, she thought.

“Thank you for coming Twilight,” said a voice.

Twilight shuddered and spun to face her. Out of the deep shadows of the tree line came Princess Luna, nearly disappearing in her darkened surroundings. Her face looked like one of quiet contemplation—not completely the wrath that Twilight had been expecting.

“What did you do, Luna?” she blurted, a little too loud during such a serine time of night.

Luna peered away a moment. “I will not apologize again for what I did. I merely let you dream and what you dreamed I played witness to. I always knew something had been gravely wrong on the day Celestia fell, but I honestly never expected it to end with us here.” She glimpsed all of Canterlot for what must have been the first time in months. Each nook and cranny she took in, seemingly wanting to reach out and touch each little piece of her city. “Discord will die this time. I will make sure of it. My sister thought she could change him but she had been wrong… and she paid dearly for her mistake. I will not be making the same one.”

She left the veil of shadows and trotted past Twilight to the head of the bridge. She placed a single hoof on the thick wood, emitting a far heavier sound than the dirt path before it.

Luna said, a little more timidly, “That’s why I had to wait for you, Twilight. Discord has always been an immensely powerful being, and since the Elements of Harmony have been lost to us for some time now, I know it will take us both to destroy this monster.” She faced Twilight to give her the faintest of smiles. “But I thank you for this, Twilight. You’ve given me purpose to return. And now I will get to avenge my sister once and for all.”

Luna took another step along the bridge—the sound echoing cleanly in the still night air.

“But…” Twilight began, before swallowing thickly. “What if it actually wasn’t Discord? What if it was someone we just never knew about?”

All at once her heart was beating heavy in her chest, her thoughts feeling a tad too hurried for their own good.

Luna turned to her. “Your own dreams do not lie, Twilight. So why do you try and trick yourself now? Discord has gone too far this time. He has no love in his heart—he never had.”

“But we still don’t know!” Twilight chirped, each word wanting her to cringe. “He never confessed to anything! He said he loved her, Luna.” Then she said quietly, “And I believed him.”

Luna’s worn face had grown hard in the last few moments. She took a step toward Twilight, and Twilight in turn took a step back.

She said sternly, “He never loved her. And if I want a confession from that creature I will get one from him—screaming in agony as he tells me.”

In the face of all that alicorn power and rage, Twilight lost what strength was left in her legs and plopped to the ground. She couldn’t even face her anymore.

Her next sentence came out as a near garbled mess. “But… but what if… what if it’s better this way.”

She heard Luna take a few swift steps in her direction and closed her eyes instinctively. Then, much calmer, Luna asked, “Better that he get away with murder, Twilight?”

Twilight shook her head without completely knowing why. All her life she had made it her mission to carve out answers where others might have found difficulty in doing so. Definitive, clear, question ending answers she had always sought to find. But things had never seemed as complicated as now.

“I don’t mean Discord, Luna. I mean the rest of Equestria. Ponies haven’t been this happy in a long time. They look up to your sister… and Discord. Ponies believe it was love that saved them from Sombra, and out of that they get a little hope that they might not have had before. Like some rainbow after a thunderstorm. Is that so bad, Luna? Is it really?”

Luna breathed out and lowered her head. “It’s all nothing more than a lie, Twilight. Whatever Discord told Equestria was a lie, and any happiness they might be getting from it, shouldn’t have existed to begin with.”

“So then that means we take away the only good thing they have left? One ruler killing the other along with hundreds more just to be in charge? No one would know what to believe if that came to light.”

“The truth cannot always be easy, Twilight. But this time justice must prevail. Or else what message are we sending to ourselves? What message am I sending to the memory of my sister?” Luna lowered herself to lift Twilight’s chin with a hoof. “Are you so worried to lose another of your immortal kind that you would live in Discord’s lie? All the while tearing you up inside? That is not the Twilight I knew.”

Twilight pushed her hoof away. “That’s easy for you to say! You left when we needed you most! You left me all alone!” Now the tears were biting at her eyes. “Who’s to say you won’t do it again, once you’re done killing Discord?”

Luna took a few steps back, obviously shocked by the outburst. “I… I wouldn’t. Not again. I was scared Twilight. Like you… I felt alone once I knew Celestia was gone. I know it was rash, I know, but—”

Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.

The steady clap of a pair of hands. Large and heavy in the night.

Both alicorns turned to find Discord standing at the other edge of the bridge, a single lamppost miraculously right above him. Its sickly yellow light elongated each of his worn facial features—each wrinkle and crevice cut with a deep line of black.

“Oh, please don’t stop on my account, ladies,” he said, “I thought this was just the intermission.”

Luna’s wings flung out to her sides and she lowered a few inches to the ground. She said cautiously, “Discord.”

He bowed. “Luna.”

For a long while no party said a word. Meanwhile, Twilight got to her hooves again and joined Luna near the bridge. She truly had no idea how any of this would proceed.

Discord asked glumly, “What it is you think you know?”

“Plenty,” Luna said. “You’ve destroyed the lives of countless ponies and damaged this land for your own amusement for too long, Discord. You murdered my sister—and somehow set free a King to do your dirty work. You used to be a creature of nasty tricks and simple delights… but now you’ve become something more evil than I could imagine.

“Do you confess to having killed my sister?”

Discord stroked his thin beard. “You might want to rephrase that last part.”

It only took Luna a moment. “Do you confess to playing a part in getting my sister killed, Discord?”

Discord grinned widely. “Now that’s more like it.”

Luna took a step closer. “So you confess then! If that is so then I will strike you down this very night!”

“Oh, actually I never said anything of the sort, Luna,” he said, while strolling from one end of the bridge to the other. “I only wanted to bring to mind exactly what it is you plan on doing here tonight. If you kill me now, not a single soul will have any idea why you did what you did. If you kill me tonight, Luna, then Celestia will have died for no reason other than my latest plan. Have you not heard of the love that is spreading rampant as of late in these parts? The citizens… how they just love me these days!”

“They love a fable and nothing more, Discord!” she spat back.

He chuckled dryly. “They don’t know that. Would you really want to ruin that image in their hearts for all time? That seems oddly mean of you. And who will be left in charge of it all when I’m gone? You? The same alicorn that vanished for over a year once the going got tough? Or how ‘bout you, Twilight? I’m sure everyone would just love to take orders from a Princess who’d rather read alone in her house for years on end, all while she could have been helping the rest of Equestria along with Celestia! Haven’t these ponies been suffering enough as is, Princesses?”

Luna took a few more steps forward. Twilight could tell she would charge at any second. “The only reason they suffer at all is because of your doing!”

“Before you dare leap to strike me, Luna,” he said calmly, “there’s one last notion you should know. If you try and tell anyone of what I’ve done, I will destroy you both… and everything you hold dear… bit by bloody bit. And if you even so much as touch me tonight, both of you will never see Shining Armor again.”

Twilight instantly perked up at the name, her head focusing first on Luna and then Discord, two times over. Had he honestly said that?

“If you want even the faintest hope of finding him, I would put a halt to whatever it is you have planned here tonight. Needless to say… time is of the essence.”

“We don’t believe you, Discord. You’ve always been a master of lies and manipulation.”

“Then how do you explain this little thing?” From behind Discord’s back he pulled out a small silver medal Shining had always adorned on the front of his uniform. It glittered as though recently polished. “Remember when I had a visitor from the Crystal Empire, Twilight?”

“What did you do to him?” Twilight screamed.

Discord was unfazed by the reaction. “If I were you, I’d fly as fast as you can.”

Luna turned to her. “It is all right Twilight. You will go and find your brother and I will stay here to keep an eye on Discord.”

Already Discord was shaking his head. “No. No, I don’t think so. If you truly want to find your brother, you’ll need the two of you, at least. And if you both don’t go, I won’t tell you his location. Plus… what more damage could I possibly do? I live in a kingdom of my own now, ladies. And I would just hate to see it messed up or abandoned… unlike some.”

Awkwardly, both Princesses took a few steps away, unsure exactly of how it had all come to this. Twilight said softly, “I trusted you, Discord. When most others wouldn’t, I trusted you.”

“Then that was your mistake, Twilight Sparkle. Words can never be more than words. You always need actions to back them up. Now go, before you have one more early funeral to attend to in your long, long life.”

Chapter 17: The Bitter Tale Of Sure Shot

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

THE BITTER TALE OF SURE SHOT

Sure Shot had always known he was destined for greatness. It would only take a few seconds for any normal pony to glance upon his face to understand that just underneath those debonair eyes, that a cool, calculating mind only sat in wait of the next tremendous action he would take.

He would change the world, he knew. The only question that remained was how?

Sure Shot was an Earth pony born in-between a brother and a sister. Unsurprisingly, the love that trickled down from both of his tired and overworked parents somehow missed their mark on Shot. But he had been unperturbed by such trivial of occurrences. His siblings would need that love and support—to live and grow and be normal in their everyday normal lives. Shot would not. He would build himself up and the world would know his name. Given time, he would scream it from the rooftops and ponies everywhere would rush from their homes in the petty happenstance of getting a mere glimpse of him.

Pushing open the door to that musty, old antique shop, he told himself, “And this is how it all begins,” before hastily peering around in case he had spoken too loud. Already it could barely be helped. He was excited… and nervous to boot.

In his younger days, spent toiling away with the rest of his childhood peers in the quest for some cutie-mark that would fit just right, Shot had hastily learned that regular means of stable living were much too below him. Baker? Teacher? Doctor? Librarian? These were jobs better suited for the idiotic and the type that shied away from such bright lights. Shot wanted a job—no, a destiny—that few would ever have and a great many more would never dare to attempt.

It was thoughts like these that turned his life down a darker path.

When he had grown older and his cutie-mark had yet to reveal itself (he had since worn a garment of some sort to help cover its baldness), Shot had taken to stealing from the pouches of market ponies as they sold their common and simple wears. After a few months—when he had been getting exceedingly good at such a practice—he had been caught in the act and a chase had ensued. Being of the Earth pony variety, he had outrun his pursuers with barely a hair jostled from his brow.

From this close call Shot had learned two valuable things. The first was that his cutie-mark would never be in the art of petty theft. And secondly, the thrill of being caught had never made him feel so alive.

But still, minor mischief such as that would never be big enough. Not nearly enough.
So trudging further into that creaky and dry shop, Shot made a bet with destiny. Everything or nothing.

It was odd how it came to be. Truly, it was; how Shot had just so happened to be walking down an alley, scouring the tipped over trashcans in the search for his latest meal, when a wanted sign tacked to a wall had inexplicably stole his attention.

“Oh. And what’s this?” he had said aloud. Since living in the streets for several weeks, the art of self-conversation had become his latest acquired skill.

The wanted poster appeared nearly yellow in its weathered state—each edge had been crumpled grotesquely and the rain from some time ago had done a horrible job on the words. But still he had enough to make out clearly. It was asking for assistance—assistance of the dangerous variety. A location and a date came after. But what was it about that date that—

“That’s today!” Shot had exclaimed, unmindful of the passerby that had then eyed him wearily.

All at once his heart was beating hard in his chest, his mouth almost salivating from all the notions running through his mind. Was this it? he wondered nervously. Was this what I had been waiting for all this time?

But then more thoughts came tumbling down.

The poster had looked old and worn, so why had the job not been taken before now? Was the job far too risky for the taking? Or had it been filled and the poster remained up due to simple negligence?

Remaining still for a few moments only, Shot shook his head to clear out his dour thoughts before ripping the poster down with his teeth. Times like this only came once in a lifetime, he informed himself briskly. If you missed it, you only had yourself to blame.

And so directly from there he went to the requested destination, all the while contemplating just how far he’d shove his fame and fortune down the throats of both his mother and father.

The antique shop had perhaps three windows to its credit, each one heavily coated over with hardened dust and more. Needless to say, Shot banged his dirty knees on more than a table or two while trekking in the gloom of the shop.

“The back, the back. They said they’d be in the back.”

Since the shop had appeared nearly deserted once he’d entered—besides the ancient and sleepy looking attendant perched atop a rickety old stool in the corner—Shot had not feared to whisper to himself aloud. He had discovered long ago it helped him to think, should situations get a little out of hoof.

Just as he was about to circle back and try the entire shop again in search of his somebody, a dim hallway appeared between two immense stacks of old fineries, and Shot instinctively knew this was where he was meant to go.

“The back, the back. This is as back as it goes, so…”

He entered a small backroom hardly more than a few meters wide. Dividing the room right through its center was a tall wooden shelf which must have held some of the shops more interesting and expensive bits and bobbles. A single dingy light swung from a cord near the ceiling. Due to the high and thick shelf, it left out large batches of black shadows in the four corners of the room.

Slowly Shot viewed one way and then the other, his gruff and unkempt ears lowering nearer to his head. “I’m too late,” he mumbled, before all those notions of just what this would have all led to evaporated much, much too soon.

Then the sound of thin metal on wood.

“I must say you were very close, but you managed to make it just it time.”

A voice from nowhere, and yet somewhere in the room.

Shot took a step back. “Who—”

A figure slunk out from one of the room’s darkened corners. In a hoof he held a golden chalice, which he first turned one way and then the other, letting the small overhead light catch everyone of its fine details.

“This might be a little much for a pony in your state,” the stranger said, setting the cup back down on its dust-covered bench. “But perhaps we can change that.”

Shot regained a bit of his composure since viewing his client for the first time. (Is that what I call them? A ‘client’? Oh, wow, this is really happening!) He said in a voice a little lower than usual, “You’re the one from the poster? The one that said they needed help of a serious nature?”

The stranger stepped a little further into the light, and now Shot could make out the wool hood he kept draped over himself. For the smallest moment Shot wanted to smash a hoof into his own head for not protecting his own identity in such a perilous way. But hadn’t the whole point of this excursion into the unknown been for the single goal of fame and fortune?

“That I am,” the stranger said, “and I am just so glad you’ve come. We’re almost out of time as it is, as you might have noticed from the date on the poster.”

“So has no one come to see you yet?”

“I’m afraid not, brave pony. Not everyone is up for such a task. Not everyone wants to be in the thick of danger.”

Shot wanted to grin at such pretty words but kept his mouth ridged and tight. This was a very serious meeting in a very serious place, he told himself. This could be the beginning of it all.

Shot asked, “What do I get if I do this for you?”

The stranger barked out a laugh. “Not even interested in what the task may be, my friend? Already I like the way you think. Let me put it this way…” He turned back to the chalice he had recently set down and gave it a light tap, letting it ring hollowly in the quiet shop. “This cup alone is worth eight-hundred bits. The rest of the shop—along with its thousands of other bits and pieces—are worth close to the same. And I just so happen to own this shop, along with my sleepy compatriot near the door.” He stilled the ringing cup with his hoof. “If you succeed, I’ll give you everything. More coin then you could possibly spend in a lifetime. And all it will take is one afternoon of work. Are you up to the task, my friend? Or is fame and fortune not what you seek?”

Before the stranger’s question had barely been stated, Shot had already told him his answer.

The line had been long and Shot was already loosing what luster he had started the day with. Leaving the antique shop some hours ago, he had travelled to Canterlot Castle with a mix of giddiness and apprehension. At the start, any doubts he had been feeling had been washed away in a sea of jubilation at just what this mission would bring to him if he succeeded. But as his time in the line seemed to only trail onward and forever, the fears of what might go wrong began to steadily creep in.

“Name?”

“Sugar Sweets.”

“Go in.”

“Name?”

“Prim Rose.”

“Go in.”

Shot knew he was getting close; each name read out becoming clearer and clearer. Soon they would ask for his. Soon he would know for certain whether this had all just been some joke or the real deal. But surely no one in their right mind would make mockery of such a job? Right?

“Name?”

Deep in thought, Shot had missed the only question he had been patiently waiting for for close to four hours. A pony behind him poked his hindquarters in response.

“Name?”

Shot came back and stared into the eyes of a guard holding a clipboard and floating quill. For such a simple job, Shot thought he looked a tad high-strung.

“Uhh…” Shot began, his mind drawing perhaps the fattest blank of his short, uninteresting life. He smiled weakly at the guard before quickly peeking at his foreleg, where he had written it down just in case. “Simple Fool,” he finally replied.

The guard didn’t even glance at his clipboard. “Really?”

“Yes,” Shot answered in a shaky tone. “Simple Fool.”

The guard rolled his eyes and scanned his list. A few seconds later he perked up and crossed a box off with his quill. He turned back to him. “You do kid’s parties or something?”

Shot swallowed dryly. “…sure.”

A second later the guard grew tired of him. “Go in. Next!”

On numb legs Shot took a few steps forward into the grand oval room. Several dozen ponies had already been allowed admission; each followed the other in a wide circle that enveloped the entire area. Near the very center of it all sat a large marble throne—the line of waiting and patient ponies seeming to circle it in a haphazard spiral effect.

“Why would the line be a giant circle?” Shot had asked his mystery task master hours before.

“Because he’s weird and he likes it that way. And that’s the only thing you need to know.”

Shot had believed himself to be as nervous as he might get while waiting in the seemingly never-ending line, but now that he was glimpsing him up close—and just how big and real he truly was—made each step forward a little harder to take.

Discord—Lord Discord, his shadowy friend from the shop had reminded him—sat with one leg crossed over the other as each new petitioner approached him timidly. A guard to the side of him whispered in his ear of their name and claim and he asked each what they needed or what their worry could be.

Even several meters away from the creature, Shot could tell he was bored out of his mind. After each spoken-for pony left his never-ending circle of questioners, Discord ran a heavy hand along his face, leaving one to wonder if he’d rather rip off his features to get out of such a job.

“Open your bag, please.”

Another voice startled Shot from his gazing. Another guard had seemingly come from nowhere, and was already pointing at the saddlebag he had draped over him. With slightly shaky hooves, Shot awkwardly removed the bag and handed it over. The guard opened it and nearly stuck his whole head in. A second ticked by… then another… and another…

And now Shot knew his short-lived assignment had already come to a close. The guard would find what the stranger had put in there. From there he would call for the other guards and together they would throw him in the dungeon, before sweating out whatever answers might lie inside his head. But would Shot actually hoof over the name of his first client just like that? He had hoped not. In fact, names had not even been shared between the pair. The only thing he knew at all about his new friend were his eyes and how weird—

“Oh please, oh please…” Shot mumbled minutely.

The guard had removed his tired face from the bag and handed it back without a response. With a quick move of the head he told him to get moving.

“Thanks,” Shot garbled out, with the straps still held tight in his teeth.

A few steps beyond the guard and Shot couldn’t help but peek inside the bag once more, hoping that an accident hadn’t just saved him from the dungeons and yet cursed him from accomplishing his goal. Yet still it was there, gleaming brilliantly from the bright light shining through every open window.

“You will take this… and this with you,” the stranger from the shop had told him, sliding the bag and a short, silver-handled knife across the dusty shelf that divided them. “Once the knife is in the bag, it will be only visible by you and you alone. Anyone else that looks inside with see nothing at all.”

“How can I be sure that it’ll work?” Shot had asked delicately.

“You can’t.” And although Shot hadn’t seen a single trace of his benefactor, he could almost sense a small smile just below his hood.

Only now Shot had made it this far. Now had not only the name he was given worked, but the trick with the bag as well. And still, every step he took forward only brought him closer to that towering creature of Chaos. Could what the stranger have said honestly been true? Could it all have been so simple?

In the dim back room Shot had held the ordinary knife in front of him. “Just a knife? How many times do you expect me to stab him?”

“Just the once—just in the side,” the stranger answered. “And then right after you need to head for the door to the right behind the throne. Unlike the other exits, it will not be blocked by a guard at this point. Once outside, you’ll find a set of stairs that’ll led to a dirt path that’ll take you into the underbrush. I can only hope you’re good and running and fleeing.”

Shot couldn’t help but smile.

“Discord’s made too many enemies during his time in Equestria,” the stranger continued, “so I believe he needs to be taken out of the picture. Not many know of his weaknesses, but I do. It’s a secret concoction that takes weeks to prepare. And its what’s wrapped around that knife right now.”

In the bright throne room another light bump from behind got Shot moving again. He re-holstered his bag and began the slow loop around the throne. He knew the time to strike would be soon. When the line came to a halt behind the grand creature and his chair, he was then to lunge out with a swift blow and a hurried retreat. What remained to be seen in the stranger’s simplistic plan was Shot’s fleet exit from the scene.

“Come on, come on…” he whispered to himself.

He rounded the remainder of the corner and felt that same giddiness he’d felt while leaving the antique shop. The exit was there—the one to the right of the throne—and no guard was in sight or even close to it. The stars were aligning and Shot had somehow found himself in the very thick of it all. This would be the tale he would tell his grandfillies years from now. This would be the tale he would trumpet above all else in the stillness of each tavern of Equestria, as every ear would strain to hear how the mighty Sure Shot took out the single greatest power in all the land in one single stroke. He could almost hear their shouts of approval in his head. He could almost taste the bitter flavor of every coin he would collect once his errand was done.

“I’m about to change the world,” he whispered, and this time he didn’t even look to see if anyone took notice.

The line crawled forward and Shot was now three ponies from his mark.

Now two.

Now one.

Each time he moved forward he checked the exit and the bag once more—shifting himself into that perfect striking position that he somehow knew it would be (having never fought another pony in his entire life).

Now was the time.

The back of the great throne casted a tall shadow on the floor where Shot stopped in line. Each of his limbs thrummed on the marble. It was now or never. It had to be now or—

“Move please,” a mare behind him said.

“But… I…” Shot stammered back.

“But you’re not moving, so…” She pointed a hoof forward, and not in one of the nicest ways possible.

“Umm….” Shot lowered his head; almost moved along as he had been bidden. Only he knew it wasn’t supposed to end like this. He had come too far and already things had worked out too well for it to come to an end on such a note. If only his parents had truly known what type of pony they had brought into this world…

Shot turned back to the mare behind him, an odd steadiness spreading throughout him. “You’re about to witness history,” he said, as he opened his bag.

When she saw the knife, the mare’s eyes became wide and she took a couple steps back. Thankfully she did not scream, or things might have turned out a little differently.

Latching on to his thin knife with both hooves, Shot flung himself around the large throne while bringing his weapon in a wide arch. Blade then connected with flesh and the towering creature cried out in pain. It’s working! Shot thought distantly, It’s all working! Then he brought the knife back only to find it stuck firmly in place.

“Wha…”

He faced the area of the wound and tried to release his hold of the knife, only now it looked as though a bit of the handle had melted and had now secured itself to his hooves. With the rest of his strength he gave it one last wrench only to find it wholly embedded in the creature.

And oh how suddenly that perfect exit of his felt so far away…

Slowly Shot craned his neck to face the draconequus he had just gored, his brightly lit, red and yellow eyes already burning with carefully subdued rage.

Discord was having the toughest time keeping his head level with what he was staring at. Each pony that came before him first snuck to the top of his vision before becoming cut off at the top. After nodding off the first two times he kept his chin propped up with a hand. But held aloft by a lion’s paw, it had nearly matched that of a pillow.

She won’t let me sleep! he thought sullenly. I didn’t even know she could do that!

Two days had passed since Discord had sent the Princesses away in search of Shining Armor. Since then, Discord had not slept a wink. And although it was usually for no longer than thirty-minutes—an hour tops—a night, he had always found that break in the night necessary, to at least briefly halt the cacophony of thoughts and ideas he had consistently swirling around his head.

“Raaaaaugh!” He yawned loudly, stretching out on his hard, marble throne.

“… and that’s why I moved my fence two feet over onto her property, as it had been mine to begin with. And what does she do in retaliation? She kicked up every-single-one of my daisies! I want compensation, Lord Discord.”

The latest in the never ending cycle of ponies that had problems that needed fixing stood before him—an orange mare that had a problem with another mare, standing and simmering by her side. I wonder how she coxed her into coming here… he mused.

The pony with the complaint was about to say more but Discord held up a hand.

“Do you know the blueprints to your own property, Ms. Shine? Do you have any idea how far you’re actually allowed to build upon your land?”

Ms. Shine became a little flustered. “Well… it’s what I was told before I…”

“Hmm,” Discord cut in. “That’s too bad.” He summoned a blue and white scroll into his hands, then spread it out. “Because you’re actually now four feet beyond your property limit. You owe your neighbor an apology.”

She looked like she wanted to vomit. “Really?”

Discord leaned forward. “Yes, Ms. Shine. Really. And right now, too.”

Now she looked like she wanted to run away while vomiting. She turned to her smirking neighbor. “I’m… sorry.”

“I’m glad,” the neighbor shot back.

“Now you tell her your sorry,” Discord said. “And that you’ll replace her flowers immediately.”

Now the neighbor turned to him. “Really?”

The draconequus narrowed his eyes. “Is there an echo in here?”

The neighbor took in a breath and gave the flattest of apologies to Ms. Shine, but at least for him they were ushered away swiftly thereafter.

While they set up the next pony to come forward, Discord leaned back and turned to the guard by his side. He asked annoyingly, “How many more of these?”

The guard couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “A… a lot, my Lord.”

Discord grumbled and peered over the heads of the dozens of ponies that filled his throne room. Each looked more irritable and boring than the one before them. Each looked like they wanted to chew his ear off with whatever nonsense they could—

Oh, wait a second. Was that him?

Could he be so close already?

Despite the tiredness that seemed to seep into his very bones, Discord eagerly glimpsed the Earth pony he had spoken to that morning. Sherbert… or Short Boat… or Snout Head… He tried to remember, but honestly his name had never mattered. But now he was here—now he could get things started and completely do away with all these little meetings of the public… at least for a time.

“This is Mr. Golden…” his guard had already started the next round of ponies to come forth.

Discord listened but didn’t take much to heart. The next handful he barely concerned himself with, and tried to pass along as quickly as he could.

He stole another hurried glance over the crowd and almost giggled as he saw just how close he was getting. Any moment now. Any moment.

“That sounds great now! Just try not to touch it or use it or anything!” Discord exclaimed absent mindedly.

A pony with a severe rash covering nearly his entire body stared at him in alarm. “Shouldn’t I go and see someone?”

Discord waved him away and a guard promptly prodded him along. Soon enough his puppet would be nearing his spot. He had to get in the mood for his act. Today he had quite the audience to entertain.

“Move please…”

A mare in the area just behind the throne.

“But… I…”

The Earth pony’s voice, a bit more timid than he had wanted him to sound. But he had to do it. He just had to…

A moment passed. And then another. And for the first time that day, Discord grew worried. Until that sharp pain in his side.

Discord cleared his throat before screaming. “Arrrghhh!”

The room became deathly silent, and a mild tugging caused him to look down at his side. Second Scoop was busy pulling at his knife—the simple, ordinary one that Discord had given him. True, a real knife hurt the creature just as much as it would anyone else, but not many could heal as easily. Soy Sauce glanced up at him and what he saw must have scared him considerably, for both eyes grew as wide as to almost be connecting.

Still helplessly stuck to him, Discord fell over, pinning him to the ground. With a quick snap of his fingers he undid the Earth pony’s grip on the handle and held both of his front forelegs to the ground. Now they were face to face, the draconequus hovering closer and closer to him. Before Stop Sign could say anything about anything, Discord wrapped the tip of his tail around his mouth, causing the pony’s eyes to bug out the tiniest of bits.

That was when the helpless, pinned pony began thrashing underneath him, attempting some form of escape. But Discord had always been a creature of substance—when he wanted to be as light as a cloud, he could be, and when he wanted to be as heavy as a boulder, he could be that too.

“Lord Discord, stand back! Let us take care of this!”

Discord briefly left his captive to view the room’s four guards standing ready by his side, each weapon held skyward. He wanted to roll his eyes at their timely rescue—seriously, any normal pony would be dead by now—but kept such actions in check.

“I have the situation under control, guards! If I let him go now, he might hurt someone else! And now I intent to find out just why he did this!”

Atop the struggling pony he lowered his head so that his lips were nearly millimeters from his ears. “You’re doing great, Sound Scan. Keep it up.”

When he brought his head back up Discord could tell a few pieces in the poor pony’s working brain had conclusively fallen into place. There was a good reason he had given the Earth pony the smallest of glimpses at his eyes while in his unicorn form—now he could tell plainly that it was all paying off. Discord opened his eyes a tad more to help seal the deal, because, what exactly were the odds of encountering two bizarre beings with eyes of red and yellow on the same day?

The colt stopped moving for the smallest of moments before beginning to grapple with him all over again. Discord gave him a few inches on each leg, just so he’d continue the fight.

It must have looked rather intense from the sidelines.

“Wait!” Discord yelled out into the packed room. “I know who this must be from! This must be one of those murderous ponies! The ones that take coin in order to kill others!” He paused a moment, to clearly make sure every eye was upon him. “Oh wait! Could this be one of those silent assassins I’ve heard so much about? The ones that cut out their tongues in order to never betray their brethren?”

Discord gently snapped a pair of fingers and both pupils of his trapped little pony shrunk to the size of pinpricks. Below his tail, Discord felt Sub Sandwich’s jaw quiver, as he finally realized that his tongue had miraculously vanished from his mouth. For the tiniest of moments he peered up at the towering creature, seemingly pleading with his eyes. What he saw there must have given him less than hope, so he began thrashing anew, this time trying to open his mouth in an effort to nibble on that burdensome tail.

“I heard these assassins’ don’t have teeth, either!” Discord yelled, before snapping away another part of his pony actor.

And now with what little strength he had left, the Earth pony began to buck at him in the craziest of motions. A few times he had even gotten close enough to cause Discord some worry, so by then he knew he had to bring this game to a close.

For the second time Discord leaned in close, his breath warm on the pony’s ear. He whispered, “I may have also heard these assassins’ were genderless, too.”

The Earth pony’s movements ceased completely. With eyes that begged for someone to come and stop it all, they watched the draconequus fearfully, unsure of what exactly he’d do next.

“I’m only joking,” Discord cooed quietly. “You’ve done well, oh brave Saffron Spice. Now you deserve your rest.”

Discord forcefully brought his head down onto his, knocking him unconscious. Slowly, he regained his composure and stood to face the rest of the room. He eyed his sore and painful side and removed the thin knife still embedded deep within. In the hush of the room it clanked loudly against the floor—a small puddle of crimson already staining the marble.

A guard called out, “Lord Discord! What should we do?”

Discord ignored him and took three heavy steps unto his throne, where he sat down with a thud. He said sternly, “Bring me his bag.”

A different guard hovered the bag over to him and Discord carefully undid its flaps. Once he materialized an envelope inside, he pulled it out. On parchment paper was a handwritten note—a red candle-wax seal plainly broken on its front.

Discord pretended to read the document, his eyes bulging and his lips moving soundlessly. Then he pretended to read it a second time.

Just as he brought the paper down to rest on his knee did a voice in the crowd ask, “What does it say, Lord Discord!” before a few more joined in. “Yeah, tell us!” “What’s going on here?”

With some well-acted effort, Discord stood on the steps of his lush chair. He surveyed the room and found close to a hundred eyes upon him. This will do, he thought, for a start.

“This is a contract for my murder!” he told the throng, holding the letter up for all to see. “My attempted murder.” He glared down at the unconscious Sure Shot. Then he said with loathing fury, “I had always known her love of correctly signing every document would be her undoing… for this letter is signed by none other than Princess Twilight Sparkle!”

Chapter 18: From The Brink

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

FROM THE BRINK

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

At first he had thought they were sleeping, but he had known few that could ever dream so still. It had been a silly notion. A nice one, too.

Shining Armor had felt many the painful stings once he was flung out into the cold by the vicious draconequus in his latest of tricks. The first sting he felt was the simple mounds of snow which wore away at every bit of his flesh the moment it made contact. The other—and far more potent—sting was from his own naive idiocy, when he went to speak with the most dishonest creature in all of Equestria by himself. But had he truly expected their meeting to lead to any results, other than more hearsay followed by denials aplenty? Shining couldn’t honestly tell. He had gotten the dirt on him and he had gotten it from Discord’s own single-fanged mouth, which in itself left a lot of questions still twirling in the air. Like just why had he given him such answers in the first place? Why exactly he had told him his entire scheme in one fail swoop?

Two answers came to the stallion’s mind. The first was that the draconequus was cracking—either from the weight of his extravagant lie or from something else entirely. The second answer seemed to be the one he believed a tad more, as much as it hurt him to think in such a way. Discord had expected him to die out here. And with him his secrets.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He had said those words on loop more times than he could count and still they did little to quell his feelings. Perhaps they never would.

When Shining first felt the harsh realities of his treacherous situation, he had before anything else, looked for a possible hidden door somewhere in the snow. It could have been invisible, he told himself. One might have only needed to find its frame and grip its handle to travel back to the rest of the world. But after thirty minutes of such searching, Shining finally stared off into the distance. At the thousands of miles of white and blowing snow.

He gave himself only a minute to feel scared. Then he shook it off.

He was the Captain of the Guard and he had led full squads into worse situations such as these and time and again pulled through. Only now he had to do it alone. Yet even in the face of very certain death, he would continue on until his last breath.

So he got moving.

Only a few hours in and the cold had taken a toll on his body. Each limb felt sludgy and hard—numb and unyielding. The howling wind bit at his exposed eyes and already his nose had become a fountain of runoff. He knew it wouldn’t work like this.

Summoning a small bubble of sorts, he cocooned himself from the elements. Barely inches from his face, the biting wind and snow broke apart and sailed to either side of him. Instantly he felt better, but already he knew this would never serve over the long hail. The safety of the bubble only existed while he concentrated with enough of his mind. If he tripped or even simply wanted to sleep, he would again be exposed to every bit of the land’s cold fury.

A day later he found the cave.

“Wha…” Shining began, prying open both heavy eyes that strained to stay up.

Far in the distance, barely visible by the blowing snow sat the jagged mouth of a cave. Without honestly wondering whether it was a good idea or not Shining moved in its direction. Once he climbed under the sharp lip of the entrance, he undid his bubble and nearly shuddered in relief. But that was only before the chilly wind from the open gap found him again.

That small cave would not save him, he knew. Just as it had not saved his comrades.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Since the cave was little more than an entrance with a hole cut in its side, Shining had found the other three guards almost before his eyes had adjusted to the gloom. Although they did not wear guard’s uniforms or anything of the sort, he remembered exactly what Discord had told him before slamming that door. And now here sat three more innocent ponies in the wake of his grand scheme; three more innocents who had done nothing more than been in the wrong place at the wrong time. So what more could Shining really have said, besides—

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The two pegasus sat closer to the door while the unicorn sat further in. Each one had crumpled themselves as small as they could, possibly in an attempt to hide as much of themselves from the relentless wind. From the frozen snot from each nose and just how brittle each piece of their garments looked, Shining could tell it grievously hadn’t done much at all.

They could have left the unicorn, he had thought in that cold cave. They could have left him and tried to escape above the clouds but they didn’t. They stuck together and this is what they got. They tried to cross Discord—or maybe they DIDN’T at all—and yet here they still sit, forever and for all time.

Shining’s tears had already set onto his face. His back rubbed painfully against the stone wall—his constant shuddering something completely out of his control.

He wanted to sleep but thought that might be the last thing he would do. He wanted to cast another small bubble around his cold and weary body, but that would only serve to zap what little energy he had left. So instead he made a hard decision.

Shining rose and dusted the fine flakes of snow from his uniform, finally noting the disappearance of his favorite medal. He was sad to see it missing, probably lost during one of his sudden stumbles into the white. If he was to go down today or the next, it wouldn’t be while waiting in some cave for rescue. He would try and carve out his own escape… as little as it might have seemed doable.

His last thought before exiting that cave was that Equestria had never known such a villain as Discord.

“I know it hurts to hear, just as much as it hurts my ears to hear it as well. But this time the facts seem too irrefutable for any other such conclusion.”

Discord gave his weighty speech a pause while he surveyed the hundreds of startled faces peering up at him. Behind a bright podium he stood, atop a balcony jutting off the Canterlot Castle. Over a courtyard it hung, complete with benches and a water fountain. On most days a dozen ponies would trot among the area, pleasantly munching on their lunch while sitting for a spell or throwing their spare bits into the fountain in the vain hope of some passionate wish. Only now that same courtyard was far beyond capacity—the ponies that had arrived late rather standing in the ankle-deep fountain than miss a single word.

Discord held up his signed letter again. “Princess Twilight Sparkle has taken a claim on my life. Perhaps if she had done more research in how to actually kill a draconequus, she might have had more luck. But as it stands, I survive. And I mean to see justice prevail.” He lowered the letter to his chest, right over his heart. “I should have seen the signs earlier—I should have taken into consideration just what Celestia had told me.” He looked downcast, and let a single tear fall from his eye. He knew anyone watching from the back would not notice such a subtly, but he thought perhaps someone from the front would tell the rest exactly what they’d missed. “In the last few years of Celestia’s life, she had become concerned about her student. Twilight had begun to shy away from Equestria, and no matter how much anyone tried to pull her back, she would only strive to keep to herself. Years ago she disbanded her counsel of friends so she could be alone with her books. Doing what exactly… was anyone’s guess.

“Until now.”

He cleared his throat and held his eagle’s claw by his wounded side. Earlier, he had tasked a doctor with bandaging the area even though his wound had already healed completely. Still, it must have looked rather convincing to the hundreds that had missed out on his earlier performance.

“Given the letter found in the assassin’s bag, a few things seem more glaring than before. I had always wondered why King Sombra had felt so much more powerful during his destruction of the Empire. I had also always questioned just why Princess Twilight and Luna had never made it there—even when Celestia had begged for their aid. And oh how clear it all seems now.

“During her years away, Twilight must have busied herself in the ways of resurrection, perhaps even something more. She must have sent a newly created Sombra to the Empire to try and destroy both Celestia and myself. But since I survived her first attack, she must have thought another to be necessary. Why else would she have asked Luna to visit her, while not having spoken to the mare in years? It was distraction, my subjects. Simple distraction. She wanted as little power at the Empire as she could get, to give Sombra the easiest attack feasible. I know it may—”

“But that can’t be true!” a lone voice from the crowd shouted out. “Princess Twilight was Celestia’s student! And she saved Equestria a whole bunch of times!”

A hurried murmuring in the gathered group; the heads of many turned to their neighbor in search of what the other might just think.

Discord was unperturbed. “I know it might seem hard to believe—and believe me when I say I wish it was not the way it is. Like more ponies had, I loved Twilight as well. For years I was her friend, before she isolated herself from everyone. But time has a way of changing ponies. Take myself for example, if you must. Over the years Celestia would again and again inform me of just how worried she was of Twilight. Twilight had become an alicorn and had been given a role in Equestria, yet somehow she had wanted more—more duties and responsibilities and Celestia had feared she had become greedy with her new title. A short time prior to her fall, Celestia had even invited Twilight to come see her, possibly in an attempt to help bridge their broken trust. But Twilight would not even see her then.”

Slowly Discord shook his head. “The Twilight that many of you might have known is gone. The one we need to be in fear of now only wants power—as the death of her only teacher and mentor should prove evident. For years Twilight must have been planning it all—spent her time studying darker magic and twisting around tales. She is not to be trusted and is to be considered extremely dangerous. She will try and manipulate you. She will try and coax you into believing that she is the innocent one. But those are only her charms and nothing more.”

He placed both hands on the balcony, extending his thin neck over the crowd. “And I promise each and every one of you, that she will be found, and that justice will prevail. As your Lord I consider that my duty above all else. May Celestia have mercy on her soul.”

A few minutes following his impromptu speech and Discord was still thrumming from the rush. Each word—each lie—he expelled forth appeared to be swallowed whole, and any nonbeliever in the crowd had hurriedly been swept away when they’d only need turn their heads to see the other hundreds that followed the opinions of the rest. Discord had always liked sheep.

“Lord Discord, a few questions if you could.”

Since he’d left the balcony and the warm embrace of his loving populace, the latest Executive pony had been trailing the tall creature as fast as his four legs would allow.

Discord didn’t slow but waved a hand for him to go on.

“It’s just that… since your attempted assassination, more than a few ponies have come forward saying that the tongue-less and teeth-less assassin had been speaking just fine only moments before attacking you. They said he gave a name at the door and everything.”

“Let me answer your question with one of my own,” Discord said, not even turning to the laboring pony. “How good would an assassin be if he couldn’t even enter the room where his intended target was?”

“Uhh…I…”

“Exactly! If he couldn’t say a name at the door, he wouldn’t have been allowed in. If he wouldn’t have been allowed in, this wouldn’t have happened!” He indicated his bandaged side.

Discord stopped his march down the hall, almost kneeling to match the height of his Executive. “Before he went in for the killing blow, he must have taken a potion should he have been caught. Without his tongue and his teeth, he would be of no use to the enemy.” Discord appeared a bit chipper with his next inquiry. “How is our guest doing? Have we learned anything new?”

“Well…” His Executive looked to his side. “Sadly, no, my Lord. We’ve shown him pictures of Princess Twilight and he either pretends to not know her or doesn’t at all. When we gave him paper to write with, all he wrote was your name, over and over again. When he ran out of room on the one side, he flipped it over and started to draw a picture of you, too. It’s all very disturbing.”

Discord tugged on his wispy beard. “Did he get my antlers right?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Never mind.” Discord got back to his feet. “It’s obviously more serious than I thought. Twilight has somehow erased herself from his memory and given him nothing but a burning desire to finish his job—to kill me once and for all. But you are quite correct. It’s all very disturbing.”

His Executive pursed his lips. “While we’re on the subject, what should we be feeding him? With no tongue or teeth it’s—”

“Give him pudding. Pudding will work.”

“That seems rather nice for a pony that just tried to kill the leader of Equestria.”

Discord rolled his eyes. “I never said chocolate pudding. Give him… tapioca or something.”

A sentry trotting by perked up in a flash. “I like tapioca!”

Discord ignored the random guard and began up the hall again. “We should not feel we have to punish the poor tool any more than is necessary. For that is all he is—a tool, used by Twilight Sparkle and then discarded when he was of no more use to her. It’s awfully sad is what it is.”

The nearly galloping Executive beside him said between breaths, “So what… what are we to do… about her.”

“Haven’t I made that clear?”

The draconequus stopped before the end of the walkway and spun around, facing the dozens of guards busing themselves with one thing or the next. He clapped both hands together, causing them all to halt. “In case someone hasn’t exactly gotten the memo yet, we are now searching for Twilight Sparkle. She is to be detained and then brought here, where she will face the justice she deserves. You are not to believe her lies or her wild tales of wrongdoings. She has had years to ponder them and will use them readily. Start with her home, where I’m sure she’s spent years crafting her dark arts when she brought Sombra back from the dead.”

When the tiredness had become too much to bear, Shining Armor let his thin bubble that protected him from the elements fade away. The biting wind found him soon after, but already it was becoming less and less of a concern.

Bit by bit he was getting numb.

From the tips of each leg it had started. He would watch each one rise and fall, again and again into the cold powder, and yet not feel a single thing against his skin. All he knew was that he was moving. Moving where? He did not know. All he knew was that it was the direction he had staked his life on. Should it lead to salvation or damnation was up to—

He laughed dryly in the wind.

It was the notion that his biggest annoyance of the day had ended some time ago—the deep pain along the features of his face. As his body might have felt momentarily better while it shut itself off piece by piece, Shining only knew each sign was only another step in a far darker direction. How much longer until that cold reached his inner organs? How much longer until his hooves would just stop moving on their own—unknown inner turmoil forcing them to halt the stallion where he stood, effectively picking the spot where he’d stumble and die.

But that would have been no way to go. Not for a Captain.

It wasn’t the way for those other three to perish either, he echoed dimly. Thrown into the cold, with not another single soul to hear of their sorrows.

A sharp pain much warmer than anything in days gutted him from the inside and the next thing he saw was a flurry of snow as his body came to the ground. It appeared he had come to the end. At least now he could sleep. And then from sleep he would depart from this place… and sadly leave too many things unfinished.

He blinked one. Twice.

Each time he closed his eyes he felt near ecstasy as his body yearned to slumber. Any moment now…

A small dot in the distance. Faintly glowing in the billions of specks of white. Now another dot joined it, crisscrossing and waving, moving and growing.

He closed his eyes and this time found them almost impossible to open again. But he did. And for the first time he felt not so alone anymore.

“Shiny?” a voice asked.

His answer would need to wait.

Spike closed the cover of the heavy tome and slid it across the table. It had been the one Twilight had been reading before she stormed off in the middle of the night without a word—a red bookmark still kept track of her spot near its end.

As much as Spike had wanted to worry about Twilight’s midnight venture—as well as the few days that had passed without a hair or word from her—he could not fully breakdown just yet. In the past she had been known to disappear for a series of hours, every time in the search for a new dusty book to add to her collection—to propel her “research” in whatever way she thought was best.

It had been a hard several years for the young dragon. Although Twilight had not aged a day in the last few years, her mental age had advanced far too fast for him. Instead of acting as young as she truly was, she was more prevalent to shutting out the rest of the world and reading until the early hours of the morning. Twilight had tried her best to ignore most everything around her, but Spike had always felt he had owed her more than his life alone. So for that he would remain. For her. Possibly to keep her head on her shoulders. Possibly to let her know that life still waited for her outside of her books. If she still wanted it.

As was accustom whenever Twilight went out, Spike would prop open one of her research books (usually the newest one) in some minuscule attempt at understanding just what Twilight had been searching for for all those years. Each time he’d only manage a few pages of thick script and garble-like language, before tossing it aside for either a comic book or an easier read. He only hoped what she’d said before about this book perhaps being the last one were true. Maybe then he could compel her to see her friends again. Maybe then—

“Fireflies?”

For some time now he had been sitting with her book, so much so that he hadn’t even noticed it was already dark. Another night and no Twilight, he thought, another chink in his armor making him worry all over again. But at least the night is nice.

He left the table and went to the kitchen window, the one that peered out into the thick woods beyond. It had taken some time to assimilate to the isolation of such a spot, but for the past while he had begun to take in its scenic beauty whenever he could. Maybe it was his way of coping with the situation.

And now he had dozens of fireflies to occupy his fervent mind. Peaceful. Tranquil.

But Spike had never known fireflies to move so swiftly in the brush, nor get as large as they were becoming.

Feeling one last chink in his armor, he left the cabin and stood in front of its door, both eyes searching for whatever was creating that noise in the forest.

“Who’s out there?” he called. The high-pitched voice he had donned all those years ago was no where to be found. What called out into the night should have scared most ponies away. And yet the sounds of their hooves only grew—the glowing fire at the end of each one of their torches steadily coming closer.

More than two dozen guards and ponies of different dress slowly unveiled themselves from the trees. In more than a few hooves were lit torches; on every single face was the most serious of looks. Spike didn’t even have a chance to see if he had been flanked around from the other side.

“Is she in there?” a guard near the middle of the pack asked. “Is Twilight Sparkle in there?” He sounded stern while he spoke, but his eyes happened to dart in a few too many directions to fully believe him. Underneath it all he was nervous.

“What do you want with her?” Spike said. “And why are you all here in the middle of the night?”

The guard steeled himself. “We need to speak with Twilight Sparkle immediately. It’s of the most dire of circumstances that we do.”

“You could have sent a letter,” Spike explained slowly. “Most normal ponies do that when they want to chat these days.”

Spike already knew something terrible had happened but was at a total loss as for what. He only knew he had to tiptoe around whatever was happening here. Most of the ponies that surrounded his home—most of the non-guards—appeared eager to jump at the bit whenever they could.

“Stop talking! He’s only stalling!” a random pony by the lead guard’s side cried. “She’s probably running out the back right now! Or worse! Preparing some spell to kill us all, like she tried with Lord Discord!”

The guard that had spoken moments before turned his head carefully to the yelling pony. “The only reason I said any non-guards could come was to try and cut down on any vigilantly violence. I said you could come and retain order, but not talk. So shut it and fast!”

The civilian pony clenched his jaw and kicked up some dirt with his hooves. Then he regarded Spike with a loathing glare that shouldn’t have been able to scare the near-fully grown dragon as much as it did.

“What did Twilight do?” he asked the crowd. “Where is she?”

The lead guard stepped closer. “We have reason to believe that Twilight Sparkle has made an attempt on the life of another, which is why we need to speak to her immediately—”

“Cut this formal stuff and let’s get in there already!” The voice of a mare from somewhere in the unknown thick of them all.

“He’s probably in on it, too!”

“What are we waiting for?”

More screams from the crowd came flooding out. Some fearful, some dripping with unseen rage. Spike had never witnessed such an ugly crowd. Never in his life did he want to see Twilight as bad.

He took a shaky step from the door, holding open both hands. “I don’t know what you think Twilight has done… but it is just not true. Twilight has never hurt anyone in her life and never would. Whatever you have heard has been a lie or a rumor—”

“Let’s smoke her out!” trumpeted another, before the quick blur of some bright object ran passed his vision, followed by the sound of breaking glass.

That was when the crowd lost what little control it had.

“No! Wait!” The lead guard spun around to face whoever had thrown the torch through the window, only to face an angry rabble of ponies clearly bent on taking justice into their own hooves.

Once the torch had been thrown and the first act of violence could plainly be felt, the rest of the group moved past that invisible barrier they had erected just beyond the tree line. On each face was wrath. Right next to that was fire. And Spike could already hear the sounds of crackling wood from within his home. It was all too much. Much too much.

“Stay back!” he yelled to the approaching herd, before pulling in a large batch of air. His next action was a wave of golden fire that arced around the cabin. As tall as two ponies and as long as the crowd itself, his wall of flames made more than a few jump back in surprise. But by then he was already moving—already inside and slamming the lock across the door.

It wouldn’t last long. But maybe just long enough.

“Come on, come on, come on…” he muttered to himself, while his eyes did their frantic search of the cabin’s modest interior. He knew he should try and save something—something from his many years there—but what? That was when Spike finally noticed the billowing fire to his left, already eating up what remaining of the living room couch and table. By that time the heat was stifling , but it was nothing to a dragon

“Come on, come on, come on…”

A piece of wood broke through the window in the kitchen, before clearing away its sides as a means to get in. More than a few hooves banged against the front door, causing the boards to crack and bend in their middle. This small house of theirs’ had never been intended to keep ponies out.

Then right before the spreading flames could devoir it next, Spike knew what he should take. The thick text he had been reading only minutes before—Twilight’s latest acquisition. It sat on the very edge of the coffee table, nearly teetering over the side. A few flames licked at its bookmark, but Spike scooped it up without another thought and ran into the bedroom in the back. Only a bed, a dresser, and a bookcase lay in wait. And by then he knew his small home was far beyond salvageable. So with one last look, he ran through the lone window that was available to him, unmindful of the small shards of glass that bounced off his hard flesh.

The only question now was whether he would find more awaiting him outside.

Twilight Sparkle had been certain he was dead. Perhaps a part of her—in way of grappling with all that had happened in the last few days—had nearly told her it to be true. Shining Armor was dead and there was nothing she could have done to change it. At least in that way, she knew it for a fact. At least in that regard, there was no more mystery to the question.

Princess Luna and Twilight had spent two days out in the cold, cutting away the swirling wind and snow with whatever spells best suited them. Discord’s hurried description of where he’d sent him were unfocused at best, plus it could never take into account whether Shining had moved from his original location, which Twilight was sure he would have.

“There! Something below!”

Along the white expanse it had actually been Luna who had spotted him. Carefully they had landed beside his body, and Twilight could barely restrain herself from enveloping him on the ground. Only he was too cold and too still. Only—

“We need to get him out of here! We need to get him out of the cold!” she screamed.

Luna looked down at the poor stallion and came closer. She knelt down and placed a hoof on his chest, then she held out her other leg towards her.

Twilight took it and immediately felt a charge rip across her.

“Place your other hoof on your brother, Twilight.”

She did, and then a blinding white clouded her vision and the swirling cold she had felt for far too long came to a halt. Now she could actually hear again; along with the sweet songs of birds from some distant tree; the sweet smell of grass just underhoof; the sweet warmth from the sun just overhead.

Twilight opened her eyes and found the three of them in the same position as before, only now on a field of damp grass. She went to her brother and watched the steady movement of his chest rise up and down. That alone was enough to make her cry so she did, all the while holding one of his legs in two of her own.

After a few moments (when Twilight had become more than sure her brother was not about to suddenly expire), she turned to Luna, who stood watch by her side. “Where are we?”

“We are outside the Empire,” Luna said casually. “I had meant to transport us to the very hub of the city, but it has been a while since I have visited. Plus a teleportation spell such as that is uncommon, even for myself.” She surveyed the grassy land. “But at least we are safe… for now.”

Twilight dried her eyes. “Thank you, Luna. I wouldn’t have been able to do this on my own. I wouldn’t have even been able to get him back—or either of us, for that matter.”

Luna nodded solemnly. “I am relieved your brother has been found. I am sure he will recover, given time. But the matter of Discord still weighs heavily on my mind. I feel no different about the subject than—”

“Discord!”

Shining Armor shuddered awake with wild eyes. With gasping breaths he took in his new surroundings and settled down. Then he found the shimmering eyes of Twilight and pulled her in for a hug. “It was you,” he whispered. “Thank you, Twilight. Oh Celestia, thank you.”

For a few minutes Twilight filled the stallion in on just how they’d come to find him. Afterwards, Shining did the same—ending on the three frozen ponies he had found in the cave, horrifically banished by Discord.

“Discord’s not the same creature he once was,” he continued. “He’s become something worse—something crueler than I thought he could be. He’s changed, and I don’t even know if he’s realized it himself. It used to be about chaos for the sake of fun… but now it seems like chaos just for the sake of it. He’s becoming unhinged… and now he doesn’t care who he hurts. He might think he’s not truly killing anyone by not physically touching them, but what he’s doing is basically the same. I don’t think he works by a single rule anymore.”

Luna nodded eagerly at each point. Twilight only sat and listened, trying desperately hard to separate the Discord she had known for over the past decade and the Discord from only a few nights prior. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Luna looked ready to chomp on it all. “And that’s why we strike as soon as we can! When you’ve recovered—let’s say, in a few hours—we can gather the guards of the Empire and prepare an assault on the tyrant! My sister’s murderer will not get away with what he’s done!”

Shining tried to pry himself from the tree he had been resting on, winching as he did. “I think I might need more time than that. But I agree. Discord cannot get away with this any longer. Not while he might hurt more ponies that interfere with his plans.”

“Then when do we strike?” Luna was still too eager.

“I don’t know, we—” Shining began.

“But there’s so much you two aren’t taking into account!” Twilight cut between them.

Luna and Shining observed her for a moment before calming down; the Princess of the Moon already on the verge of saying more. “You just said that Discord would hurt ponies that got in his way; only the ones the try to meddle with him. That was just us in the snow. That was those three you found in the cave. If what you believe is true, Shining, that Discord had become unhinged in a way, then that means we should be trying to lessen his focus as much as possible.”

She took in a breath. “Most of Equestria believes that Discord—Lord Discord—is what saved the day at the Empire. If that lie were to be exposed, then no one would know what to think—ponies everywhere would panic and ponies could get hurt. But what this lie also does… is keep Discord grounded. As long as he gets to remain in charge and control the sun and the moon he is kept on the side of good. At least publicly. If we tell everyone just how horrible he is, and just what he’s done, what’s stopping him from focusing his anger out on everyone? Sadly, the lie that he’s created for himself is keeping him at bay as much as it is us. Plus, what evidence do we even have against him?”

Shining was surprisingly the first to speak. More like shout. “There are three innocent, dead ponies out in the snow right now, and not a single soul knows just why or what got them there! Except we do! Are you saying their lives count for nothing, Twilight?”

“Then what would we say?” Twilight was having trouble meeting his eyes. “Here are three ponies in a cave and Discord was the one that put them there. All he would have to say is that three explorers went out and got lost along the way. It would be our word against his. And as it stands these days, my word means close to nothing—I’ve been forgotten, replaced by a more recognizable ruler. Luna might have more sway, but she had left everyone when they needed her. Ponies might still be raw about it.”

Luna did not say a word on the contrary; only tightened her gaze.

“What about me then, Twilight,” Shining said. “He threw me out into the snow, expecting me to die along with his secrets. That can’t go unpunished.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Shining. Not at all.” She tried to face them both at the same time. “All I’m saying is that things have changed in the year since Celestia left. We’re playing a far more delicate game than before. It’s not just some villain that needs to be stopped with magic or weapons or friendship or whatever. Discord has spent years creating careful threads tied to everything—he’s thought of most everything. If we start pulling away at his work without fully comprehending it all, then everything will collapse at once. We need to start thinking about more than just what we want and instead what might be best for everyone.” She pointed a hoof at Shining. “You only want redemption for those ponies huddled in that cave, and I want that too. But there needs to be a better way than just confronting him directly.” She then pointed to Luna. “You say you want to avenge your sister’s death, but the only solution you’ve given at all is with answering a death with another one. The Celestia that I knew only wanted peace among her subjects, whatever the cost. I’m sure if she knew her life would allow such a pacification to flow into the land, she would let it all stand. But by killing Discord in turn, is that what Celestia wants? Or what you want?”

For a long time neither of them said anything. Both peered away before finding the purple alicorn again. Luna said minutely, “But he can’t get away with it. It wouldn’t be right.”

“I’m not saying we let him,” Twilight said, “only that we need to plan how we do it carefully. Discord’s given us time to do as we please. As long as we don’t try and blow the whistle on him, he can’t do much to anyone besides dictate and rule.”

Shining perked up. “Then what’s the first thing we do?”

Twilight said, “We find a way to turn him back into stone.”

Chapter 19: Home

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CHAPTER NINETEEN:

HOME

As much as Luna had tried to send Twilight back directly to Baltimare, she had still missed the mark by a good dozen miles. Twilight didn’t mind. She thought a short flight might do her some good. These days she figured she had a lot to ponder.

“I’ll only keep quiet about this for so long,” Shining Armor had said, as they finished their last embrace. “Princess Cadence will have questions. A lot of them, if I know her well. Can she be let in on all this?”

“Only if you think she’ll keep it a secret,” she had said bluntly. Twilight didn’t exactly know how Cadence might react, so she left it in the hooves of her brother to sort. She had business of her own to comprehend.

The few clouds before her parted and the cool wind blew her hair to either side of her head. Only a mile beyond stood Baltimare, each of its tall, glass and metal buildings shinning brilliantly in the early morning sun. Already she could spot the tiny specks of ponies on their way to work or wherever. Already she was envious of them all. What she wouldn’t give to have a normal life. To think about normal things while traveling to a normal job.

Twilight’s stomach rumbled above the cutting wind and the notion of what she’d actually last eaten escaped her. For two days she had been out in the cold searching for her brother. Thoughts of food or personal necessities had never even entered her mind.

She stopped her flight near the entrance of town, remembering a bakery she had frequented during her years there—or Spike had, when her latest book proved too tantalizing to depart from. She landed and surveyed the small street; many ponies trotted to and fro into small shops, she even glimpsed a little fountain at its center. The kind words she had heard the last time she went shopping in the city still held clear in her thoughts—she figured maybe a little polite socializing could ebb some of her overall negative vibes.

“Good morning!” she exclaimed to a mare grabbing a newspaper from a vendor.

When the mare turned to face her, she dropped her paper and her pupils shrunk.

Up off the ground Twilight scooped it up and placed it in her hoof, one that was oddly still hovering where it had just been. It was as if she had been startled stiff.

“Sorry I caught you off guard,” Twilight told her. “It’s still early. Maybe you need a little caffeine.”

Briskly Twilight trotted off, desperate to get to her bakery of choice. But where was it again? she thought. Spike had always been the one to go out and grab things… so—

Out of the corner of her eye she caught a stallion leading his two fillies along the opposite sidewalk. With both forelegs he was pushing his two children backwards, away from the street. “What are you doing Dad?” one said, before the father shushed him angrily. His eyes were nearly as surprised as the mare with the newspaper.

Now Twilight was getting nervous. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She peered around her for another pony of worth but found herself alone on the walk. “Oh, the wings and horn?” She flexed her purple wings, causing the father to grip his fillies tighter. “I’m an alicorn. I guess it might be kinda’ weird but—”

“Pleasedon’thurtus!” the stallion shouted in a single blurb. His eyes darted down both ends of the street, perhaps looking for some salvation to come galloping his way.

Twilight pulled back her wings and stepped forward, her throat much dryer than when she’d first entered the city. “Why would I hurt you? What’s happened here?”

The stallion’s eyes finally found someone else to yell to. “There she is! There she is! Do something!” Even in mid-yell he was already scrambling away, whipping both of his kids onto his back to help move them along.

Twilight watched them go. Then remembered he had been speaking to someone down the road.

She turned to find the startled faces of more than a dozen guards. Even so early in the morning, each one looked alert and something more. Terrified perhaps?

Twilight asked them, “What’s going on here? Why is everyone acting like this? What’s happened in Baltimare?”

The center guard licked his lips. “We will not be answering your questions, Princess Twilight. On Lord Discord’s orders you are to come with us to Canterlot. You are accused of attempted murder on a Lord—one count of hericide—as well as the assistance in the murder of Princess Celestia along with hundreds more. You will face trial, but only in Canterlot. And only once you come with us.”

Twilight slowly shook her head, her thought moving far too sluggish for such a wallop of information. Discord had been busy. Discord had been very busy.

“No. No, you’ve got it all wrong,” she stammered. “I’ve never tried to kill anyone—Discord or Princess Celestia. There’s been a mistake and you’ve all been fooled. I loved Celestia. She was my teacher and my friend, and I had nothing to do with her death. You must see that.”

A guard near the sidewalk pointed a hoof at her. “Lord Discord said you would lie! We won’t believe a thing you say, murderer!”

The lead guard said sternly, “Any answers to the contrary can be uttered once you’re in Canterlot. Until then nothing you can say will change our orders.” A slight shimmer found his focused eyes. “I loved Princess Celestia. I had never met her a day in my life but what she stood for changed my outlook on everything. And for some horrible reason you took that away from us. I will see you face whatever punishment Lord Discord has in store.”

“You can’t really…” Twilight wanted to say more—say anything—to clear away these ridiculous accusations. Yet she honestly believed each one of their minds had been made up some time ago. With little conviction she said, “I won’t be going with you. There are much larger things at stake right now that I can’t possibly explain.”

“I knew she wouldn’t come without a fight!” It was the guard near the edge again—this time pointing his spear right at her. “She knows she’s done for! After all those ol’ books we found at her place—what else could she have been doing besides dark magic in there?”

Instantly Twilight wanted to reprimand herself for thinking so selfishly. “What did you do with Spike?”

“Nothing… yet.” Again the corner guard. “But when we find him, he’ll be sent to Canterlot just the same. Accomplices are just as bad as murderers in my book.”

The lead guard viewed the speaker. “No more talking to her. We’ve said all that needs to be said.” Then he faced her again. “Last chance, Princess Twilight. Come quietly and tell your story to Lord Discord personally, or face the second option… which I’m sure more than a few of my garrison would love to administer.”

Twilight swallowed back the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, but that won’t be happening today. I have a friend to find. Only know that I pity you—each and every one of you. You’re scared and I know you’re only looking for the quickest answer to that fear. But that’s not me.”

Without another word Twilight vanished in a wash of white light, causing more than a few guards to quake in their armor. For two hours more the garrison that had been deployed around the Baltimare business section would investigate the area, only to find not a single hair of the alicorn.

Until a ladybug crawled halfway up her leg did Twilight merely sit and watch. Deep in the thick of the woods did she sit, as four ponies in uniform dug around the charred remains of her home. It had been cordoned off—yellow tape created a large square around her abode. Except it wasn’t anything close to that anymore—not at all. All that remained now was the large posts that marked its existence, blackened and ash-covered. Every little while another of the worker ponies would pull out another of her thick texts before adding it to a pile on the nearby grass—they did so with careful delicacy, almost as though afraid of what might lurk inside its ruined pages.

Spike had not been caught, the guard from before had told her. But that could also mean a far more grave possibility…

“Oh Spike,” she whispered, her earlier hunger disappearing as she tasted the fresh tears trickle down her cheeks. “Oh please no…”

A crack from a branch made her duck farther into the bush. She tried to remember a cloaking spell from some years ago but came up blank. It didn’t matter, though. She could teleport away again. Maybe it’s what she should have done minutes ago, instead of sitting and watching the ashy remains of her life’s work become picked apart like so much garbage.

“Twilight?” a voice asked.

She was nearly prepared to sprint away when she realized whose voice it was.

“Spike?” She turned and found Spike lowering himself from a tree.

He landed with a mild thud and approached her cautiously. “Did they try and get you too?”

She lowered her gaze. “Yes. And whatever you might have heard you can’t believe, Spike. It’s all—” But that was when two strong arms pulled her in close, and words lost all meaning.

When both parties felt a smidge better, they exchanged hurried tales, whispering like thieves. Every few minutes Spike would raise his head in search of some nearby wanderer, but it appeared as though this set of woods had interested them little.

“What’s going on here, Twilight?” he asked. “They say you tried to murder Discord and somehow Celestia too. That you’ve been messing with the dark arts for years.” During his time hiding in a tree, Spike had heard many a conversation from the workers digging through their home. Their opinion of the pair left a lot to be desired.

“I heard close to the same,” Twilight said. “Discord must have set up some assassination attempt on himself and pinned the blame on me. He’s trying to push me out of the way so his lie will stand.”

“What lie, Twilight?”

And just like that it had slipped. But sadly Discord had made Spike a part of this without his consent already.

Twilight said carefully, “Discord was the one that brought Sombra back to life. He’s also the one that stopped Luna and myself from ever knowing about the battle at the Empire. And now he’s turned himself into the ‘Lord’ of Equestria and has everyone believing it was just love that saved everyone when nothing else would. He played everyone like pieces on a chessboard and he got away with it all.”

Spike looked away as he took in the news. He handled it better than she thought he might.

“The story did seem a little too good to be true,” he finally said wearily.

“I’m sorry, Spike. I’m sorry about everything.” She peered over the mound of green again, trying to pry her stalled mind from shutting down from the day’s dreadful activities. “But that’s why we need to stop Discord once and for all.”

“You mean turn him back into stone?”

“I know of no other way.”

“But wasn’t it only the Elements of Harmony that could do that?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid so, Spike. Which is why I came back here as soon as I could—to get my research in check. But now…”—she glimpsed the burnt wreckage of her home; finally noticing the hallowed out dresser and bed near the back; the cracked and discarded picture frames of her parents she’d kept on the counter—“…it looks as though we’ll need to find another way.”

Spike grabbed her head with both hands to face him. On his face was a grin. “Or maybe not,” he said.

Twelve hours later and the mix of emotions were still tearing at her insides. The ups and downs of it all—the sudden horrors along with the minute jubilations thrown in, only made the alicorn more sick to her stomach than when the day had begun.

But that night there was still one more thing to do.

“I don’t think they’ll come, Spike. And even if they do, we might find its some trap instead. I don’t know if we’d even given them enough time to properly—”

“You ever try n’ think on the positive side, Twilight?” Spike said with a cocked brow. “They’ll come. They have to come. I’m… sure of it.” Even a dragon could not keep the unknowing luster from his voice.

In the black of night both of them watched with silent fascination the sharp and jutting points of the tower. Atop it all sat a giant star pointed towards the sky; below that, and held by crystal-like branches, was the more normal looking house that had served as her castle.

It was Twilight’s castle. In Ponyville.

Abandoned. Unkempt. Unvisited. And now more of an eyesore to the citizens of her old town. Only tonight did a single light shine through a few windows. The windows of the room where she had held council with all her friends, back when the largest adversary they had faced together was an upcoming bake sale or the planning of the latest Winter Wrap-Up.

“It’s a lot bigger than I remember,” Twilight said weakly, craning her neck to view its final peak. “I had liked my old library better. Ponies didn’t expect as much when you lived in a library. When you lived in a giant castle that could nearly swallow a town whole, I think others expected more from you. More from all of us, perhaps.”

Spike crossed his arms. “We going in or we going to wait until we’re spotted? You know, for all the wrong reasons we’re a bit popular these days.”

During the awkward and appallingly slow flight over (traveling with a nearly full-grown, wingless dragon had ended up being just as tricky as it sounded) Spike had told her how he had recovered her latest book before leaving their burning home. After listening to a few cracks from his back by her latest bear hug, he then told her what he’d been doing exactly with the first few pages of her text, along with his fire.

“I don’t think that was the best idea, Spike,” she had said outright.

He retorted thickly, “But it’s still an idea.”

Using a few berries from the tree he was sheltered in, as well as the fine point from a single claw, he had written a letter to Rainbow Dash, the one address he could remember while glimpsing over the stack of crumpled letters from the chimney. In his hurried script he had asked her to write to the rest of their friends, wherever they might be. It was urgent, he wrote. It was big. And they had to meet in a location everyone would know but still closed off from the rest of Equestria. Spike had picked the spot and left the rest up to Rainbow Dash. That, and a whole lot of chance.

“But why would they believe me over everything that’s been said?” Twilight asked, as she watched Spike stroll towards the front door. “I haven’t talked to them in years—I practically ignored them completely—and now suddenly I want to meet in the middle of the night with no witnesses present? I think if most ponies were to get a request such as that they might rather call the guards than bake them a welcome back pie.”

Spike held a hand on the knob, sourly glaring at her. “Because they’re your friends, Twilight. And they’re also mine. And if I know them as well as I think I do, I think they’ll be up there. And I think they’ll want to help.”

“But this could so easily be a trap!”

Only Spike was already inside.

During the last few steps on the winding stairs did she first hear the voices. Pinkie Pie’s shot above the rest, eagerly dishing up all the latest news from work, before loudly bouncing to some other corner of the room to exclaim about another old forgotten item of interest. The voice that came out next was Applejack’s—trying desperately to quell the constantly shifting pink Earth pony. Then came Rarity’s, every little while interjecting about the current state of the castle’s large drapes or rugs. That made three… although Fluttershy had never been much of a talker.

“You still think it’s a trap?” Spike turned to her along the darkened hall, leading her on while not stopping to ponder the possible ramifications this all could entail.

“It could be Discord, you know,” she muttered, not even completely convincing herself. “He could be doing their voices while a whole ambush stands at the ready.”

Spike huffed air through his nose and prepared to push through the doors.

“Wait Spike, I’m not ready. I need to think about—”

But the wash of bright light had already found her, causing her to nearly shut her eyes from it. Directly in place she had halted, before one strong hand pulled her across the room’s threshold, where five very silent ponies stood in wait.

Twilight’s eyes adjusted to the sudden change and she viewed each one of them in painful detail. It had been years since she’d seen them last—even more than that since she’d seen them together. They had grown, she could tell. She had not, as she already knew.

Once she’d entered the room Pinkie Pie’s constant bouncing ceased and she silently joined the rest near the doors. Applejack took a step forward and removed her hat to hold by her chest. Twilight’s heart galloped fiercely and now more than anything she wanted out of that room.

With complete sincerity Applejack said, “We’re awful sorry, Twilight.”

And now Twilight was eyeing each window in the room, curious as to how long it would take to charge right through one and into the night air.

“So it is a trap,” she spoke in a distance voice. “But I can’t blame you.”

Applejack put her hat back on with a quizzical look. “What trap, Twilight? Is Discord plannin’ somin’ else now?”

Twilight still eyed the windows with growing interest. Three seconds. I could definitely make it there in three seconds. Now the only question is whether or not he’s set up archers outside, waiting for me to—

Then she felt something warm against her side. Carefully she turned to find the front legs of Fluttershy wrapped snugly around her neck, her eyes closed and her face nearly buried into her side. She said, “We’re so sorry, Twilight. What’s happened to you is just terrible. None of us can even imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

The acute attention on her immediate means of escape melted away as Applejack wrapped her own legs around her. She rubbed her head into her side and Twilight’s knees buckled from all the pent-up feelings that now welled up inside her. With an awkward fall to the floor she sank with both of her friends, neither of them letting go. As Rarity added herself to the mix, Twilight finally stopped shuddering. As Rainbow Dash came forward—and as Twilight finally came to look upon her bandaged and mangled wing—her latest batch of tears made their debut. Thankfully they were not the only ones. Late to the mass of mares was Pinkie Pie, who in three careful hops, came crashing through the top, pinning them all in place.

“We’re sorry, Twilight.”

“He’ll never get away with it—not while we’re standing.”

The lights adorned on each of the spacious room’s walls amped up until they nearly shattered in their glass cases. The six friends did not notice such an occurrence; only Spike had, who then peered out a nearby window incase the increase of light should arose suspicion.

Each friend offered their own short escape of emotion, before they parted and stood in a circle. All except Twilight, who could barely stand after such an unexpected welcome.

“You mean…” she said in a raspy tone. “You mean you don’t believe I did it? You don’t believe I tried to kill Discord… or Celestia, for that matter?”

Rarity wiped the shine from her cheeks before adding a thin layer of makeup. “Are you serious, dear? Not for an instant did any of us think that. Since word came down from Canterlot, I think most of us were left waiting to hear from you.”

Applejack added, “And no offence, but I recon if you really wanted to kill Discord, you’d have done something just a smidge less obvious. I mean, it was only a knife. Discord’s always seemed a little knife-proof, if you follow me.” She looked at Rainbow Dash. “It’s just a good thing Rainbow Dash wrote to us all once she got Spike’s letter. After that we all raced over here—I’m sure pretty darn curious as to just what the heck’s goin’ on.”

When Rainbow heard her name she rubbed one foreleg against the other, not adding her voice to the rest. Finally Twilight got back to her hooves to move towards her.

“I’m sorry about what happened, Rainbow Dash,” she told her. “If I would’ve known I would’ve been there with the rest of you. What you did was so brave and I’m so proud of you. But it was cowardly of me not to visit you since.” She lowered her head and spoke to the rest. “It was cowardly of me to ignore every one of you, even when I knew you were still reaching out to me. We were friends—best friends—and I only hid away from you all. I had thought… I had thought for the longest time…”

“We know, Twilight,” Fluttershy said. “We know you’ve been having trouble with your new… alicorn abilities. And we can understand how difficult the transition must have been.”

Twilight shook her head. “It’s not the alicorn part that scares me. It’s the living forever part, Fluttershy. It’s always been that. How can I be friends with anyone if they’ll only grow older while I stay the same? It’s just… not fair. How can I ever hope to relate to anyone anymore? Besides other alicorns?”

Rarity said decidedly, “We figured as much, Twilight. Which is why we respected your decision to stay away for a while. We honestly didn’t think it would have lasted as long as it has, but then I guess life found the rest of us. But none of us ever resented you, Twilight. I hope you know that. We were your friends and will always be your friends. Even if we drift apart… even if we age… nothing can change what we’ve been through.”

Twilight regarded her warmly. “I can see that now. Clearly. The fact that you all came—the fact that you all trusted me after everything I’ve done… or haven’t done, I guess. I’m sorry I left you all. But sometimes I think Celestia’s gift was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Fluttershy put a hoof on her shoulder. “I’m sure Celestia wouldn’t have given it to you unless she was sure it was the right thing to do.”

“Heck yeah!” Applejack added. “I mean… who else is gonna stop Discord this time? A protector of Equestria will always be handy, Twilight. Even when the rest of us are long gone, ponies will always need you.”

“But what if I need you all now?” Twilight blurted. “What if I don’t want you all to be gone in a hundred years? What if I want you all by my side forever?”

“Then you’ll just need to love us while you can, Twilight,” Fluttershy said. “And make enough memories to last a lifetime… or two. It’s not like we have the ability to hold onto you forever, either. But that doesn’t mean we’d rather have nothing, over a few decades of friendship.”

For a long time no one said anything. Fluttershy took a step back and now all eyes were on the purple alicorn again.

When the silence spun out for too long, Rainbow Dash finally spoke up, driving right to the point. “So without the Elements of Harmony, how do we turn Discord back into stone?”

Twilight turned to Spike in the corner, her immense tome still held in one hand.

“With that,” she said.

In the following week, Twilight read more scrupulously than she had in the past few years (which in itself was quite the accomplishment) and more than likely ate more pink-frosted cupcakes than she probably had in her entire life. But on that seventh day it had all come to an end.

While Rainbow Dash and Rarity left after their first heartfelt reunion (they were the only two that didn’t live in Ponyville anymore), the other three were tasked with bringing supplies to Twilight’s old castle, as well as deliver any such research materials that might have seemed necessary. Sadly, while Fluttershy and Applejack held their own while tracking down information and other, older texts of use, that only meant that Pinkie Pie was left in-charge of food. Which meant cupcakes. Which meant pink cupcakes. And sugar.

“Can alicorn’s gain weight?” Twilight had asked Spike, carefully out of Pinkie’s earshot.

Spike scratched his chin. “I don’t really know. You don’t eat all that much at it is.”

Twilight returned to her book, lips still greasy from frosting. “I think I’m starting to like this sugar stuff.”

On the seventh day, in the pitch black of night, the six friends (Spike was bitterly left at the castle to keep watch) traveled through the Everfree Forest to the tall and bare Rambling Rock Ridge. Years prior—possibly nearing a decade now—a mine had been constructed by its base. From deep within its vast caverns, minerals of every type had been claimed, and for years the dig had proved plentiful. That was until a series of mishaps and dangerous work-practices caused the mine to close for good. Over the years—and perhaps due to boredom over all else—a legend took up residence in the mine. Now it was not a simple runaway handcart that crushed two workers to death—it was the Spirit of the Earth, coming back with a vengeance. Now it was not the simple lack of light deep within its tunnels that sent some poor newbie miner plunging into the abyss—it was the Spirit of the Earth, calling for him to jump.

To most it was the stuff of drunken tales and nothing more. And that is what the six friends were hoping for that night.

“All right. Here’s the plan.”

Twilight gave out four yellow safety helmets they’d found left near the entrance of the mine. While shifting through the pile for two unicorn ones for her and Rarity, she tried to remove the built up layers of dust off each. A futile task. While she searched and prodded, she spoke to them all, the tip of her horn the only source of light in the cavern’s dark recesses.

“Before I left Ponyville—and pretty much everyone I knew—I had found an old book in the Canterlot archives. It had been oddly written and incredibly taxing to finish, almost like a mini test on each page. Overtime I had discovered it had been left by Star Swirl the Bearded, to be discovered and translated by only the surest of learned practitioners. But at the end of each book, another one was listed along with its location. Some were left waiting in the Canterlot library—usually in some old, dim corner—but others I needed to track down with the use of maps and riddle solving.” She found one unicorn helmet and hovered it over to Rarity. Rarity grimaced at its disparaging state, but put it on nonetheless. “Each book also left a single coordinate that fit on the official map of Equestria. At first they had seemed scattershot with no real indication of what it all meant, but when I had enough of them, it triangulated right in the thick of this mine. The last book—the one Spike rescued from our home—gave me the last coordinate; one that fits perfectly over the map of the mine Applejack was able to get from the Mayor’s office.”

Applejack was busily stuffing her cowboy hat into her saddlebag, careful not to bend its sides. “An’ don’t you go thinking they wanted to hoof that over neither! I had to sweeten me more than a few words to get that map. But still… what does this all have to do with us stoppin’ Discord?”

“Halfway through my research,” Twilight continued, “perhaps a year ago or so, all my notes seemed to be leading to a new energy source that had been hidden for years. With the way things had been worded, a new Elements of Harmony felt like the only option. And if anyone could find such a thing and bury it away for hundreds of years, who better than Star Swirl the Bearded?”

Twilight headed the group, her horn glowing with an illuminating light. The first tunnel they had entered had been so vast that all six could have traveled side by side with ease. But as Twilight checked her worn map first once and then again in search of what new cavern to delve into, their path only seemed to diminish incrementally.

“The coordinate that my last book gave landed directly on top of the final room in the mine.” Twilight was already feeling taxed from navigating, talking, and guiding their way in the dark. She only hoped the others hadn’t noticed her fatigue. “It must have been the last room they dug into before all those accidents took place. It’s hard to say if whatever Star Swirl left here had those type of untold powers or what… but I intent to find out.”

Twilight was triple checking the latest fork in the darkened road when her current hoofstep landed on nothing. With a scream she fell forward, crashing to her stomach and knocking the wind out from her. She watched as her map floated lazily away, fading into the mine’s deep shadows. Then a light surrounded it and pulled it back up.

“That was close one, Twilight,” Rarity said, bringing the map closer to her glowing horn. “Are you all right?”

Rarity helped her up and brushed away the dirt from her coat. As much as her chest and sides hurt from the sudden fall, Twilight felt more interested by the small collection of butterflies that felt only to expand in her stomach. She took her map back and smiled at her friend, the first time in a long time not shying away from her gaze. “Thank you, Rarity.”

“No problem. Now let’s finish this barbaric and dirty trek. How much further do we need to go?”

Twilight shifted her vision over the last two spots on the map. She had memorized it all only ten minutes after viewing it, but she’d never leave something this important to chance.

She said, “Just a little more.”

Because of her clumsy near-spill into the plunging dark, Twilight widened her horn’s glow and tasked Rarity to do the same at the rear of the group. Now instead of tunnels to travel through, they trotted over old and hurriedly created walkways that helped bridge the long gaps between tunnels. The one they went to next—and the last one they’d need to enter, according to the map—appeared the smallest of them all.

Each one of them nearly crawled through the diminished hole.

“Wow! It’s so bare!” Pinkie Pie stretched out the moment she could upon entering the final room. Once both lights illuminated their place, each pony glimpsed the area with nearly the same complete lack of understanding.

“I don’t understand, Twilight,” Fluttershy said, still very near the entrance of the long forgotten room. “I thought there was supposed to be something here.”

Twilight was busily scanning every inch of the rock walls. “So did I, Fluttershy. But not a single one of my books proved an easy read, so if this little excavation of ours ended with just some book on some pedestal, I think I would’ve been a little sad. It’s like Star Swirl always said—”

“There’s a crack in the wall!” Pinkie exclaimed.

Twilight regarded her pink friend. “I don’t know if he ever said that—” But that was when she saw the line of cracks billowing from the middle of the wall. Some group of miners must have been sent in here to clear a way into the next area of the dig, only to find problems elsewhere in the mine that required more immediate attention. Twilight grinned at her. “You’re wonderful, Pinkie Pie! You know that?”

“It’s been said a few times…” The pink pony bounced away from the deep crack as Twilight came to investigate.

The sound of metal scrapping over rock. “Move aside, Twilight. A few good swings and we’ll punch right through.” Applejack came forward with a pickaxe she’d found discarded by the entrance. It one mighty swing she brought it back, before a thin light held it in place. “Uhh…”

With her horn aglow, Twilight faced the breach and said calmly, “I got this, Applejack. I’ve waited too long for this moment.”

Before another word could be said the rock wall in front of her blew inward with a well positioned blast of energy. Thousands of small rocks and pebbles floated safely in the air, before falling to the floor like a million bits of sand. The area just beyond the cracked wall was now open and bare—another immense scoop of earth nimbly cleared away. But this one looked too perfect for anything other than unicorn magic to accomplish. Too smooth and too deliberate for anything else.

“This is it,” Twilight said, as she approached the thin rock stand. Then she said more to herself, “And it’s actually on something close to a pedestal…”

Atop a narrowly carved stand, basking in some unnatural light cascading from a hole in the rock roof, sat a thick bound book encrusted with brightly colored jewels. Its cover bared no writing of any sort, but a large symbol in gold lace Twilight recognized from each and every one of her other tomes. This was it. It had all led to this moment.

With jittery nerves she flipped open the cover, careful of the delicate pages within. She glimpsed a blank page and skipped to the next. They always leave a blank page at the start, she told herself. Every book does that. But not many books contained twenty pages of empty space.

“What? I don’t…” Twilight whispered, ignoring her shaking hooves and instead relying on her horn to quicken her page turning. Only each one read the same—nothing and more nothing.

“What’s going on, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked quietly. “Is it giving us a new location to look?”

Absently she said, “It’s… it’s not giving me anything…”

The blank text must have been close to four-hundred pages thick and she raced to the end in less than a minute. It was easy when all there was were more blank and yellowed pages to skim over. But wait—what was on that last one?

Twilight read the single line and then hitched in a breath. Her jaw quivered.

On the last page in the book were the very finely printed words: BIT BY BLOODY BIT. While she stared at them—while she tried desperately to remember just where she had heard them before—the rest of the page filled with those same four words, over and over again.

Bit By Bloody Bit.

Bit By Bloody Bit.

BIT BY BLOODY BIT.

Each new sentence created looked more hurried than the last—each one appeared redder than the previous. And now the book itself was leaking a crimson fluid onto the stand, small streams cascading down the fissures in the rock. Twilight took a step away from the sight as well as the mess, and then something new came forth. A bubbling laughter, bright and excited, filled their small room. Against the walls it echoed, doubling and then trebling and then nearly turning into some incomprehensible mush. And yet Twilight knew whose laughter it was.

“Oh Celestia! Discord’s here?” Rarity shouted behind her.

The laughter continued and now the dripping book opened and closed itself it time with the noise, like some maniacal mouth made of loose paper. In one swift motion, Twilight scooped the giggling text up and propelled it into the nearest wall, where it burst into dust upon impact.

The laughter died away. And with it Twilight’s slight grip on the situation.

She fell to the floor.

Applejack hurried over. “What’s happened, Twilight? What’s this all mean?”

Twilight felt too deflated to face her, so she didn’t. “It means the research I’ve been spending all my time with for the last several years has been nothing but a ploy created by Discord. It means he was one of the reasons I left Canterlot in the first place, and a strong reason why I shunned you all like I had.” She peered over the small pile of dust near the wall, then to her anxious circle of friends. “It also means we have no way of stopping Discord.”

Chapter 20: A Timid Talk

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CHAPTER TWENTY:

A TIMID TALK

Since unraveling the mystery behind her research of several years, Twilight had the numb sense of not quite being awake. She remembered leaving the mine, when a lot less words had been spoken between the sextet. She remembered sneaking back into her old castle, then desperately trying to fill Spike in on just what they’d found—and more importantly what they hadn’t found. Like most everyone once they’d gotten the news, Spike pulled out a chair from their large communal table and sat in silence. For the next few days it would prove a familiar sight.

Since the problem at hoof had not been solved in any regard, Rainbow Dash and Rarity stayed in town, either lodging with Fluttershy or Pinkie Pie. Everyone thought there might be a few too many questions asked if they bunked at Applejack’s family farm.

“You know I overheard someone this morning saying they’ve seen Princess Luna back in Equestria?”

Twilight finally peered from the oversized table and glanced over to Rarity, seated on her left. “In Canterlot?” she asked.

Rarity thought. “I don’t think so. I don’t think she’s completely unveiled herself, but I think she’s traveling around. You don’t suppose she’d try and take Discord out by herself, do you?”

Twilight put her head back down. It was difficult to face Rarity at a time like this. She was trying so hard to make it seem that everything would turn out just fine, just like it always had before. “She might, if we wait too long to get a plan in place. A new Elements of Harmony was my only bet in having an edge over Discord. Without it, I don’t have any notion of how to proceed, besides seeing if he could be defeated by more natural means. But about that I have my doubts.”

Rarity pursed her lips and looked downcast. Then she momentarily brightened. “I almost forgot!” She left the table and Twilight watched as she pulled something out of her saddlebag. Besides color, each item was closely identical. All seven she placed on the table.

“Necklaces?” Twilight inquired, viewing each over.

“Why yes, Twilight. After we left empty-hoofed from that ghastly mine, I thought what better way to lift our spirits than with some comradely jewelry.” She slid one over. “Here, yours is the purple one. If you hadn’t guessed.”

Twilight picked up the teardrop jewel that dangled at the bottom of a thin silver band. It was far simpler than anything Rarity had probably made in years, but Twilight was touched all the same. It was the first gift she’d received from most anyone in years, besides the occasional birthday card from her parents. “Thank you, Rarity. It’s beautiful.”

“You’re lying, but that’s all right. I don’t have any real supplies here in Ponyville and all my assistants are still in Filly Delphia, yet I thought something a bit pretty could cheer us up. I even made one for Spike!”

Spike perked up from the mention of his name. He had been standing near the window alongside Rainbow Dash, watching the town during its mid-morning shuffle. He turned. “Really?”

Rarity hovered one over. “But of course, Spike! You’re the reason we’re all here, aren’t you?”

Spike took the near-identical green necklace and slipped it over his head. On such a large creature it looked a trifle silly, but he wore it anyway with pride. It had been a long time since Twilight asked about his feelings for Rarity. If they still existed she hadn’t a clue, although she honestly thought such feelings could never completely disappear, perhaps over time only fade.

Rarity slid another one over. “And of course the blue one’s for Rainbow Dash, so—”

“Y’all are giving gifts while we’re out gettin’ supplies?”

With two saddlebags close to bursting, Applejack entered the room followed by Fluttershy, who had a much smaller bag in tow. With a thump she set them down and trotted to the table, scooping up one of the bits of jewelry. “Mine’s orange, I take it?”

“You take it right, Applejack,” Rarity said. “This wasn’t a contest for creativity. Just a little mood booster, if you will.”

The cowgirl removed her hat to put it on. “I wasn’t implying anythin’ by it, Rarity. It’s nice. It’s… ordinary-like, which suits me just fine.”

Eventually Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash collected their matching pair. Both seemed about as sullen as Twilight had been… although Rainbow had been nearly acting that way since the very start of it all. Again Twilight had wished she went to visit her friend when she could have—said a few nice words and maybe tried to convince her that life would still go on despite everything that had happened. But at the time she had her own troubles to worry about.

As Applejack was busily explaining just how shoddy the marketplace in Ponyville had become over the years, a timid mumbling undercut it all. If Twilight had been closely paying attention to the orange mare—which she sadly wasn’t—she might have missed it completely.

“You say something, Fluttershy?” she asked, regarding the pegasus awkwardly hovering by the table.

“Umm… well… I did,” she started. Her mouth formed the shape of words, yet nothing came out.

Rarity said, “It’s all right, dear. You can speak. There’s nothing but friends here.”

“Well, it’s just that…” Fluttershy couldn’t meet the eyes of any of them. “It’s just that I might have thought of a way to stop all this nastiness that’s been happening. It’s… it’s not the most complex of ideas, like some ancient book in an abandoned mine, but I think it’s something none of us have even thought to try.”

Now Applejack’s market tangent had been left cleanly in the ditch. All eyes were on the yellow mare, nearly shuffling from hoof to hoof. Fluttershy said, “You all say Discord’s done a lot of terrible things recently, and I can’t rightly disagree about that. But the only solution we seem to be looking at is destroying him, by turning him back into stone.”

Twilight pushed her heavy chair out from the table. One more bundle of nerves found her acidy stomach. “What are you getting at Fluttershy?”

In a near whisper Fluttershy said, “Why don’t we try reasoning with him?”

“No. No. No, no, no, no.”

That had been Twilight’s first response. And her later statements to the newly appointed discussion followed close to the same. No. Negative. No way. Opposite of yes.

“But just… just hear me out,” Fluttershy said, an odd amount of conviction in her tone. “When Celestia first wanted me to reform Discord, I thought it was some impossible task. But over time, I won him over by showing him something that he hadn’t had before—friendship. Sure, he was never perfect after that, but that would’ve been like asking Pinkie Pie to stop eating sugar because we asked her to. It just wouldn’t be right.”

Everyone halted for a Pinkie punch-line, before remembering she was working at the shop that morning.

Fluttershy continued, “I know the whole Tirek incident left a lot of ponies sore about their feelings for Discord, but afterwards I think he took a lot of it to heart.”

If he even has a heart, Twilight thought but did not say. An odd noise filled her ears. It was the grinding of her teeth.

“But then what did we all do after that?” Fluttershy asked them all, viewing each one in turn. “We left him. We all went away and did our own things, and sure he popped by from time to time, maybe to ruffle our real or imaginary feathers, but perhaps underneath it all there was a deeper reason he wanted to bother us. Maybe he was lonely. Maybe he felt left out and with nothing else to do. I know over the last decade I tried to visit him as much as I could, but whenever he would ask what the rest of you were doing, I felt I had to cover for you. To spare his feelings, I said you were all too busy to visit. I could tell he didn’t believe me when I said it.

“So how would any of you have felt if none of your friends bothered to write or simply wondered how you were doing? Maybe this is nothing but a cry for help.”

By then Twilight had had enough. Actually, she had had enough about forty-seconds ago. She got up off her chair. “A cry for help, Fluttershy?” She didn’t mean to speak so loud, but sometimes her voice just felt out of her control. “Discord has killed ponies! He’s tricked everyone! Celestia is dead because of him! My brother almost died because of him! And he even did that to Rainbow Dash!” She pointed a hoof at Rainbow seated at the end of the table. Slowly she regarded her wrapped wing before covering it with a leg.

Twilight hadn’t meant to point the poor pegasus out like some science exhibit, but it was the closest thing she had to a real example in the room.

She said much softer, “Discord’s changed, Fluttershy. He’s given up on friendship—probably did a long time ago.”

Fluttershy looked close to tears. “So does that mean friendship should just give up on him?” She took in a breath. “I’m not saying we have to forgive him. I don’t think any of us could at this point. But maybe we can still reason with him, show him the error of his ways. We might not be able to turn him back into stone but maybe we could convince him to leave Equestria for good. As you’ve said before, Twilight, Discord’s changed. If he had his victory wrapped up in such a nice little bow, why would he continue to tamper with it? Why would he continue to tell ponies what he’s done, unless he secretly wants to be stopped?”

“That… I…” Twilight was at a loss for words. Even after not seeing her for such a length of time, it was still eerie to watch Fluttershy speak in front of a group. Also with such gumption. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” she stated flatly.

Fluttershy walked over to her. “I just want the chance to talk to him, Twilight. Nothing more. We’ve all trusted you through this whole thing, now it’s your turn to trust me. And if you say he’s trying to keep his public image as nice as he’s been, then what could he possibly do, if all I wanted to do was talk?” She waited for a reply. When none was found she said, “And it’s not like we have any other ideas, is it?”

For the first time since she began, Twilight could not argue with her friend.

Like most things she took into consideration, Fluttershy’s abrupt plan of using words to tame the savage beast found Twilight pondering every possible type of defense. As much as she thought Discord would never risk potentially showing the rest of Equestria the true mask he wore under his deeply rooted lies, Twilight didn’t want to leave anything unforeseen.

Which meant planning. A lot of it.

“You’ll only meet him during the day. With any luck, earlier in the day.”

Twilight stood before the group, floating a clipboard just below her face. Pinkie Pie had finished work some time ago, and had eagerly been digesting the news since arriving. She rocked her heavy chair back and forth in anticipation.

“That sounds fine,” Fluttershy said at the front of the pack.

“You’ll meet in Canterlot. You’ll surprise him. You won’t tell him you’re coming, you’ll just pop in. Friend meeting a friend. You won’t mention any of us, not unless he asks. And in that case it’s only what you remember distantly. No specifics. He might believe I’d try and get you all back together while I’ve been hiding.”

“That sounds… doable.”

“Talk with him only in his office and don’t open any doors on your own. If you have to exit the room, let him open it for you.”

“That seems a little excessive.”

Twilight lowered her checklist. “My brother almost died from opening one of Discord’s doors. I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Okay then.”

“Talk for less than thirty-minutes. If nothing has come up in that amount of time, I doubt you’re going to have any sort of impact on him. If he gets mad or appears agitated, ask to leave the room or ask to go take a walk outside. If he thinks you’re just there for a friendly visit, he should have no problems with that.” She paused. “Surrounded by his own personal staff, as well as hundreds of other Canterlot citizens, he shouldn’t try anything. And although he seems chaotic most of the time, I still believe he doesn’t like to physically hurt ponies. He likes to trick them or manipulate them into getting hurt. I also think he liked you a lot more than the rest of us.”

Fluttershy added, “I did always send him a Hearth’s Warming Eve card…”

“But there’s still one last thing I want to have in place, just in case the worst should arise. While you’re speaking with him, the rest of us will be hiding near the base of the Canterlot castle. I relearned a cloaking spell since I’ve been in Ponyville, and that should conceal myself fine. But I want a unicorn in the castle with you, right outside those doors, to be able to teleport you both out of there should something go wrong.” Twilight shook her head. “It can’t be me, I’m afraid. Ponies everywhere are looking for me, and I think Discord would be able to sense my presence if I was that close.” She looked at Rarity. “Think you’re up for it?”

Rarity blanched at being called out so effortlessly. She choked on an invisible piece of food before shaking her head hurriedly. “I’m… sorry, Twilight. But I haven’t practiced any real magic in years. I levitate things… a lot. But that’s where my use of magic sort of runs out. Maybe if I tried real hard I could teleport a few inches to the left… but myself and another pony out of a building and far away? I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Not all that surprised by the news, Twilight nodded solemnly. She couldn’t blame her friend for something she had never been counting on. But if she allowed this foolhardy mission to take place, this would be the one rule she would stand on. Already far too many had been damaged by Discord.

“Oh oh!” Pinkie raised her hoof anxiously. “Right here! Right here!”

“The washroom’s down the hall, four doors to the left.”

“But that’s not it!”

“It’s not time for lunch yet, either.”

“That’s still not it! Pick me, pick me!”

Twilight couldn’t help but giggle. “All right. You. Pinkie Pie. In the back.”

Pinkie Pie lowered her shaking hoof and composed herself. “I think I know of just the pony we should get! And they’re in town all this week!”

“Who is?” Twilight said.

Applejack turned her wide eyes to Pinkie. “Oh no. You can’t be serious.”

“But it makes so much sense, you guys!” Pinkie said. “And she’s mighty and influential! Or was that energetic and dynamic?” She scrunched her face in thought.

Twilight was getting annoyed. “Who is it, Pinkie?”

“You’re old pal, of course! The Great and Powerful—”

Trixie sat and watched the seven of them as they explained the plan they had crafted just the day before. The original smugness she bore for most of their meeting slowly fell away as more details of Discord’s nasty business ventures came to light right in front of her. Near the end of it all she looked like she wanted to hide inside her cape, which besides the addition of a few rhinestones over the stars, morosely hadn’t changed all that much over the years.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie is finding this plan to be less and less to her liking,” she said close to the end, almost biting her tongue by her punctured response. “But she will consider it.”

Initially, Twilight had been hesitant about adding another name to the list of ponies that knew of her hiding place, as well as the fact that she was innocent of the claims handed down by Discord. Trixie had made short work of such worry.

“Not for a single second did Trixie believe Twilight Sparkle to be the attempted murderer,” she had said when they were first reintroduced. “Twilight’s too much of a goody two-hooves for such business.”

When Rarity and the rest informed Trixie of their immediate plans, Twilight pulled Pinkie Pie aside for a talk. “You saw her show, right? Has she… gotten better over the years?”

Pinkie nodded enthusiastically. “You bet! She did five shows this week and I saw all five! And they were all the same!”

Twilight grimaced. “You mean she did the same tricks every night?”

“No! I mean every single show was absolutely awesome!”

“Oh.” That sadly didn’t answer a lot. “Any teleporting tricks?”

Pinkie nodded again. “Yep! Trixie teleported herself from one end of the stage to the other! And then later, after the free meal, she made some colt’s pocket watch disappear from his pocket! And then it never came back!” She looked positively astounded.

Twilight oddly felt a little better by the answers. But what was that one thing she’d said?

“Her show comes with a free meal?”

“Mmm hmm. And a caramel apple for dessert! It’s a steal of a deal! There’s a picture of the food on the poster and everything!”

“How many ponies stay following the meal?”

Pinkie pondered. “Yours truly!”

Twilight decided not to push the subject further. At least not with her friend.

“You give out a meal with your show?” she asked the blue magician, cutting between the small circle of friends surrounding Trixie.

Trixie looked unfazed. “Yes. But I ask you, whose picture is above the mashed potatoes and corn?”

Twilight then left the room to laugh quietly in the hallway.

“All right. Test time. Move this apple from the end of the table to the other.”

Close to an hour later, when all parties were close to certain that Trixie wasn’t about to trot off and spill all their dirty secrets, Twilight had shut the windows and set candles along the large oval table. One of Applejack’s apples sat on one side. Hovering a few inches from it was Trixie’s concentrating face.

Trixie appeared miffed at the notion. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not do tricks without compensation… or with such a small audience in attendance.”

I think we might be your most interested audience, Twilight wanted to interject. Rather she said, “If everything goes to plan, Trixie, I’ll see you perform in Canterlot for every dignitary in Equestria.”

Trixie was disinterested. “And the Princesses?”

Twilight huffed. “And the Princesses. Now move that apple!”

Pfft!

The apple zapped to the end of the table. Once there Pinkie ate it in one big swallow.

“That was… not bad Trixie.” Twilight chewed on her tongue, genuinely taken aback by just how smooth the trick was. “I see you’ve been practicing.”

“You don’t become Great and Powerful by simply boasting about it, Twilight,” Trixie said coolly. “Trixie learned that a long time ago.”

Twilight said more to herself, “And yet the whole first person thing…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Moving on.” Twilight opened a window that faced a good portion of Ponyville. Several dozen meters down was the market square, currently bustling in attendance with happy shoppers. “You see the well in the center of the market? I want you to teleport there.”

Trixie lifted her chin. “Easy.”

“You and one other.”

Trixie lost a little of that shine. “Uh. Sure, no problem.” She hurriedly glanced around the room. “How ‘bout you, pink-and-yellow one? Since it will be the two of us in the thick of danger, Trixie guesses we should practice our craft. And plus Trixie thinks you’re nice and polite. What say you?”

Timidly Fluttershy stepped to her side. “Umm. Okay. Will this hurt?”

“Only if I wasn’t an expert at this trick.”

Fluttershy’s wide eyes peered to her friends for support. All appeared nervous while Pinkie Pie said, “Have a nice trip!”

Twilight viewed the budding pair. “Ready?”

“Trixie was born ready!” Trixie said, grabbing the anxious pegasus by her side.

The rest of the group focused on the small well in the far distance. Every few seconds a new pony would gallop by, but basically the view was undisturbed.

Everyone held their breath.

Pfft!

In a huff the huddled pair disappeared and now everyone crowded the window frame. The well was still unoccupied. One second. Two seconds. The well was still unoccupied.

“Where did they—” Twilight began.

“There they be!” Applejack hollered. “And here you thought Trixie would be a one trick pony, Twilight. See? She’s ain’t so bad with all this magic junk.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes and found Trixie still pinning Fluttershy close to her side. In front of the well she waved at them excitedly, a few passersby turning to stare in her direction. Even from that distance she looked near winded. But Twilight still had to give it to her. She had done what she had asked of her.

Now came the tricky part.

Fluttershy’s original trepidation left the moment that smile warmed his long face. When she had knocked on his door and the answer given had been a blunt grunt of some sort, she had entered the gloomy office with the notion that she might have had the wrong idea all along.

After entering (and already forgetting Twilight’s rule of not opening doors or touching doorknobs—but then again, how would he know who it was?) Fluttershy stood on the richly carpeted floors and found the draconequus behind his desk; head studiously bend over a curving stack of documents. All of the drapes had been pulled closed; the only source of light a single candle by his side.

She approached timidly. “Hi, Discord.”

Slowly he lowered the latest page in his hand, the gruff frown pressed onto his features melting away into a genuine smile. He looked both surprised and delighted, but not in that delightful way of his that meant chaos was a-brewing. “Fluttershy…”

With a snap of his fingers every drape pulled open, letting the golden sun flow in. Fluttershy instantly felt the warmth and was decidedly calmer because of it. The next snap materialized the draconequus directly in front of her, where he knelt down to give her a hug.

“It’s so good to see you again,” he said, and inside Fluttershy couldn’t help but gloat the tiniest of bits. “You hungry?”

He pulled away from her and in the middle of his office summoned two plush chairs and a dainty tray complete with tea cart. He picked her up and set her down in one—still unmindful of basic touching boundaries. But Fluttershy thought some things would just never change. Actually, it was what she was counting on.

“That’s a nice—” she started, before remembering a very important detail. “That’s very sweet of you, Discord.” She hesitated for another jumping point. “I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s very… you.”

Discord waved a hand. “Oh this ol’ thing? It’s nothing.”

The two friends got to talking.

As much as Twilight was occupied with about a dozen things all at once, she couldn’t help but enjoy the sun on her skin and the gentle breeze on her face. She had been cooped up in her old, stuffy home for quite some time now, and it had been pleasant to leave its dated interior.

Behind a park bench and cloaked with a spell she had to re-administer every twenty minutes or so, she craned her head first to the left, then to the right. On another park bench to the left of her sat Applejack, busily surveying the scene. On Twilight’s right sat Rarity, fidgeting with her hair while she stared up at the Canterlot castle with the same interest as them all. In a near perfect pentagram the five friends waited, surrounding the entire castle, all the while keeping the ponies on either end of them in view. If something drastic happened, Twilight wanted to intervene as quickly as possible. She thought a three-sixty view would best serve them all.

If she had to ditch her cloak should one of her friends signal her, then she’d do so in an instant. What more of a reputation had she left to lose, anyway?

“And he’s even expanded…” she whispered. While peering over the castle over and over again, she tried to place a hoof over just what had looked different about it. Now it came to her. Another large tower had been erected into the sky, jutting off from the main building. Only this one was much taller than the rest.

“Only Discord would create such an eyesore.” That was when she realized talking to herself while invisible probably wasn’t one of the wisest of notions.

“Was that the signal? Was that it?”

A mere few inches outside Discord’s office was a seated Trixie, her usual star-coated garment of choice discarded for nothing at all. At the moment she felt completely naked. At the moment she was. But eventually she did have to agree that some colorful magician suddenly appearing out of nowhere in the Canterlot castle had a strong chance of raising alarm. Still, even under duress, she brought along a saddlebag with her stuffed costume in tow. If she had to perform some impromptu magic, she at least wanted to look the part. But honestly, had that been the signal?

During their hours of planning and re-planning, Twilight thought a signal phrase might work best, should Fluttershy need to make a hasty retreat. After a few discarded ones, such as “I want Trixie to teleport me out of here now, please,” and, “Oh, that’s nice,” the group settled on, “That’s a neat trick.” Not only did it nearly include her name in the sentence, but it was one of the only ones not brought to the others by Fluttershy.

Trixie strained to hear more through the doors, yet it all seemed like regular conversation to her. So, leaning back a little on her bench, she listened and she waited.

“And how’s Angel these days?”

Discord drank from his cup while holding his small finger in the air. Fluttershy had almost forgotten the manners he could summon once one got to know him.

“He’s good. He’s… older, so he’s not as pushy as he used to be.” Fluttershy munched on a surprisingly good cucumber sandwich while they chatted. Once the windows had been pulled open and the sun had been let in, her earlier apprehension of their meeting vanished from her thoughts. Could this friend of hers have actually done all those things they’d said he had? More and more she was finding it hard to believe.

Discord nodded. “And you’re still in Ponyville, I hear. You never wanted to venture out?”

“No. I’ve always liked Ponyville. I know everyone I need to know and things are peaceful. Besides that whole Empire thing… which I’d rather not talk about.”

Discord looked sullen. “I’m sorry you had to be there, my dear. I’m also sorry I couldn’t have protected you while I was there.”

“Oh, I understand. You saved the day, either way.”

Discord grinned. “I did, didn’t I?”

Fluttershy thought, Okay, he hasn’t changed that much.

“You still keep in touch with your friends?” he asked good-naturedly.

“Only Pinkie Pie and Applejack, really. They’re the only ones left in town.” She thought. “And I guess we get together every once in a while. But I really haven’t seen them since Celestia passed on.”

Discord glanced away to steel himself. He swallowed thickly.

Fluttershy felt like a tug at her heart. How could she have been so insensitive at a time like this?

“Not Twilight Sparkle, either?” he asked after a moment.

Now it was her turn to look away. “I haven’t seen her in years, actually. She’s mostly kept to herself.”

“And you’ve heard what she tried to do to me recently?”

She hesitated. “You mean… when you were… injured?”

In one loud gulp he finished his tea and filled it again. “Oh, I don’t know if I’d call it just that, Fluttershy. She did try and have me killed in front of close to a hundred of my subjects.”

“Are you sure it was her though?”

“Very sure. She signed the papers and everything.” Discord got up from his chair to pace around the room. “It must be troubling to hear, I know. I wish it wasn’t the case, but sometimes when a pony finds themselves in a bind, they can do some very un-rational things. Given enough time and thought, sadly anyone’s capable of the most horrid of things.” He paused. “The only reason I want to find her, Fluttershy, is to bring her home and keep her safe. Stop her from hurting others or even herself. I don’t think she’s beyond saving. I mean, wasn’t there a time when you thought even I was worth saving… friend?”

He held out a hand to her. She took it and stood by her chair.

“I’m truly glad you’ve visited me today, Fluttershy. I can’t tell you how lonely it’s been as of late. Sure, I’m surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of ponies interested in what I have to say, but that’s only because it’s their job to be interested. I miss the friendship we used to have. It might have been unorthodox, but… it still helped to lift me from my darker moments. Who else but you could have honestly befriended the Lord of Chaos?”

Fluttershy blushed, suddenly feeling very warm inside. “Oh, it was nothing. Once I grew to understand you—once I think all of us did—I think we felt better knowing you were our friend. And we all still do, you know. Even after all these years.”

“I’m sure you do, Fluttershy. I’m sure you do. But there’s still one question I want to ask, partially because I feel it wouldn’t be in my Lordly duties if I didn’t.” Discord’s original inviting features grew a little harder. “Has Twilight Sparkle tried to communicate with you since she tried to assassinate me?”

The warmth from her chest rose to her face. “I… already told you. I haven’t heard from her in years.” She searched for a better way of ending it. “The only things I know are what I read in the paper… which lately hasn’t been all that good.”

For a very tense moment Discord held that same expression, until it finally loosened. “That’s fine, Fluttershy. I hadn’t really expected you to. Otherwise, why would you be seeing me now, if you had contact with her? But you know how business is.”

Fluttershy rubbed one foreleg against the other. Her thirty minutes must have been halfway up by now. If she wanted some definite answers, she’d need to try for some right away.

“You know,” she said carefully, “since we’re still good friends and all, if there’s ever anything that’s troubling you—anything on your mind or whatnot—you shouldn’t feel afraid to tell me about it. You know I’m good at keeping secrets. I’m kind of quiet like that. Also, I know from experience just how nice it can be to get something off your chest.” She hesitated. “So… um… anything come to mind, friend?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” He rubbed his chin in thought.

“Yes?” She unknowingly angled towards him.

Something flashed before his eyes—a sharp awakening. He said, “Oh how could I forget? This is just perfect!”

“What’s perfect?”

“The fact that you’re here, my dear! And now that you’re here, I have something new to show you!”

The lone leg rubbing against the other became harsher. “Oh?”

“Yep. Let’s go. It’s just this way!”

Fluttershy froze. “But… your office is so nice…”

Already Discord was walking towards the door. “Pish-posh, Fluttershy. I sit in here too much as is. I need a walk. I need a view. After you!” He held a hand just before the door.

It was then that Fluttershy felt something cold suddenly plop into her stomach.

Discord’s original enthusiasm sank. “That is… unless we’re not friends anymore.”

“But of course we are, Discord!” Fluttershy panicked internally—smiled externally. “But, would you mind… opening the door for me? You know how hard hooves are on doorknobs…”

Discord brightened again. “I can’t wait for you to see.”

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Discord exclaimed, holding out both arms. “And it only took two months of construction! I think everyone was on board for the project.”

From his office, Fluttershy and Discord ascended what felt like close to several hundred winding and spiraling stairs. Halfway up—when Fluttershy had already become winded—he scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way. For a long while she couldn’t help but shake in his grasp, although after a time she just went along with it. Friends don’t tremble around friends, she told herself.

Right after the blueprints had been drafted and approved, Discord and company got to work on the ‘Tower of Remembrance’—a very tall and thin structure that at its very peak held a wide, circular room with a dozen stained-glass murals allowing light into the place. Each image depicted a different part of the battle at the Empire, from its bloody beginning to its solemn finish. The few murals that remained afterward told of Lord Discord bringing stability back to Equestria. It was a beautiful display. And at the moment it was also close to capacity.

“Since it’s been open there’s been nothing but tourists checking it out,” Discord told her, trying to cut above the murmur of the trotting and talking ponies filling close to the entire wide room. “In a few months it should die down.”

When Fluttershy first took note of just where she was being lead to, her first instinct was to call for Trixie to zap them away. But when she heard the steady movement of dozens of others, she relaxed. Discord would never hurt her, she informed herself. He might have done some bad things in the past, but like before, the power of friendship was always there to save them in the end. What would make this latest time any different?

“See this one?” he asked her, indicating a window with his likeness holding onto a Celestia-looking figure. “This one’s my favorite. They really captured my sorrow on that day.”

“It’s… very sad, Discord,” she mumbled, unsure exactly of how to navigate themselves out of the tower, and perhaps to a more personal local. “You want to talk somewhere else?”

“What was that?” He held a hand to his ear.

“I mean… it’s just so noisy and all, you want to go somewhere more quiet, where we can talk… friend to friend?”

Discord heard her that time. “That gives me a perfect idea. Stand here.”

As light as a feather pillow, Discord gathered the pegasus and set her down near an isolated corner of the room. She was about to ask just what all that was about, when he said, “Now hold still.”

Then he snapped his fingers.

For the past ten minutes the Great and Powerful Trixie had been feeling anything but. When she first heard Discord and Fluttershy motioning towards the door, she first hid along the other side of her seat before following them from the distance. Not long after did they start the climb up a seemingly never-ending set of stairs—ones that Trixie herself had trouble reaching the top of.

Once a good dozen steps from the observation room Trixie remained on the stairs, receiving more than a few hard nudges from eager ponies wanting to finish their climb. Trixie nudged back and kept her hooves firmly planted it place. Yet still what good would it all do? She could hear ponies talking—dozens, if not more of them from up above—but that didn’t mean she could hear Discord or Fluttershy at all. What if she gives the signal and she doesn’t even hear it? What if she misses it entirely?

Only a few minutes later did the darkness come, and every voice from up above suddenly vanish from existence. Trixie hitched in a breath and discovered she was still on the stairs, just below the tip of the tower. But what had made everything so dark?

She said minutely, “Trixie doesn’t want to be here anymore.”

When the sun suddenly vanished from view Twilight first scanned the sky for the possible appearance of Princess Luna. She wondered if she had waited too long, pressed her luck in keeping her quiet. But something more troubling pulled that thought from her mind.

“The ponies… they’re all…” she whispered weakly.

The courtyard she had been infrequently watching for the last twenty minutes had only seconds ago been bustling with hurried ponies of every make and creed. Now they were gone. And now the moon was up and the sky was dark. Had Discord removed them all just like that? Or had he done something altogether different?

“But why? But why?”

She turned to find both Applejack and Rarity still in their original locations, both viewing her with rising dread. And suddenly it all seemed so simple.

She thought distantly, Discord made it dark because he’s about to do something he doesn’t want ponies to see.

“Oh Fluttershy…”

She had heard the snapping of fingers and the first thing she felt was the increase of weight atop her head. Her neck came down a few inches and she heard the gentle rub of delicate materials pressing together.

“Hold still now.”

Discord wasn’t where he had been a moment ago. Now he was leaning against the stone wall between two glass murals. With the fingers of both hands he made a rectangular box in front of his eyes, framing her from where he stood.

“Don’t be scared, Fluttershy,” he said gently. “It’s just a mound of cups stacked atop your head, that’s all. I had some time to kill. Several hours, actually. So I thought I’d see how high I could stack things on your motionless noggin. But it was wise of you to suggest we talk alone.”

He snapped again and the shifting weight from her head disappeared. With hasty breaths she backed away, viewing every inch of the tower with renewed interest. “Why is it so dark out? And where did all those other ponies go?”

Discord grinned. “They went home, silly. The last time we talked was twelve hours ago. I froze you—and your pals waiting outside—just so we could chat alone. I thought that’s what you wanted, friend.”

Fluttershy began to quiver. “I… well… of course I still wanted to talk, but I think that was pretty sudden… but anyway… that was a neat trick. Yes oh yes it was. What a neat trick it was.”

Discord’s smile stretched even more. “Why thank you, Fluttershy. I’ve always wanted to use this trick before, but never had the chance. But come closer, my dear, I can barely see you in this gloom.” He stretched out a hand and the yellow pegasus floated in the air towards him. She landed by his side, not quite able to meet his gaze.

“Let’s talk,” he said happily.

A lot of things Trixie wanted to do at once. Firstly, she wanted to run. Secondly, she wanted to cry while running. And thirdly—and perhaps most importantly—she wanted to honestly help the poor pegasus up those stairs.

Twice now she had already given the signal, the one that meant they needed to get away right that instant. But never before had her magic seemed to count for so much. Never had she needed to rely on it as badly as then.

And she covered for you, too, she thought desperately, remembering when she teleported the pair first to the outside of the Twilight’s castle, before teleporting twice more to that blasted well in the market. She could have told Twilight to find someone else, but she trusted you. She thought you would do right when the time came, and now you’re just sitting here, unable to do anything.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked in the dim stairway.

But perhaps it was more than nerves that sullied her magic that sudden night.

“We have to do something, Twilight! Something now!”

Once they all regrouped in the center of the courtyard below, Rarity was the first to shout her worry. The rest felt close to the same, but hadn’t exactly figured what words seemed right.

Twilight glimpsed the immense tower again. “I might be seen, but I don’t care. I need to get inside and fast. I just don’t know where they’ve gone.” She faced her head to the ground and concentrated with her horn. A moment later, a spark of light made the others shield their eyes, before viewing with increasing horror the same Twilight before them, only a few inches to the left.

“What happened?” Applejack asked.

“He’s blocked me,” she answered mystified. “Somehow he’s—”

“What have you done, Twilight Sparkle? Why are you all here?”

A harsh voice from above.

Twilight turned to find Luna just regaining her composure since landing.

Taking a step towards her, Twilight said, “I’ve made a terrible mistake, Luna. Fluttershy thought she could—”

That was when a horrible noise from above filled their ears, and words didn’t matter anymore.

“I asked you earlier if you had spoken to Twilight Sparkle, and you said no. Were you lying to me, Fluttershy?”

Discord had wrapped a heavy arm around the pegasus, carefully guiding her from one mural to the next. He spoke with care and sincerity. But something underneath it all, as well.

“No. I… I haven’t seen Twilight. No one has.”

She still couldn’t keep her jaw from fidgeting.

The draconequus said, “I know your Element isn’t honesty, Fluttershy, but it is Kindness. Is it kind to lie to your friends?” He regarded her for a moment. “Or is it kind to lie for your friends?”

She stammered out, “I still… I still don’t… that’s a neat trick.”

“I know. You’ve said that a lot. But that doesn’t answer my question, and it’s truly starting to hurt my feelings. Why, even right now, I know every single one of your friends are waiting for you outside my castle. I even know another one—a magical blue one—is waiting for you on the stairs, just a few steps below.” He shook his head. “Such treachery. Such lies, Fluttershy. Really, they are unbecoming of you.”

“I… I don’t…”

He led her to the stained glass painting from before—the one of himself and a dead Celestia. “Back again. How quant. But it’s all right, Fluttershy—friend—you don’t need to talk. We can just be content together.” He set her down in front of the mural, the faint light from the moon creating a colorful pattern on her gently trembling back. “Remember when we first met, Fluttershy? When we played that big game in the maze—all your friends and I?”

She nodded quickly.

“That was fun, wasn’t it? Sure, it might have made for an odd introduction, but look how close of friends we are now. We’ve come a long way.”

Since that first nod she hadn’t stopped.

“Remember when I took away your wings? Oh what irony it was—removing the wings from the one pegasus with butterflies as her cutie-mark. You never really liked to fly, did you? Even now, I doubt you fly unless it’s absolutely necessary. Maybe I’ll do you a favor. What are friends for, after all?”

He brought a hand close to his smiling face and snapped into the still night. Fluttershy felt something disappear from her back, and now a new chill crept up her spine. She backed away until her rump rubbed against the glass.

“There,” he said sweetly, “no more wings to worry about, Fluttershy. No more worries at all.”

“That’s…” Fluttershy gulped dryly, seemingly unable to stare away from those yellow and red eyes; ones which followed every movement, every word. She whispered, “That’s a neat trick.”

Discord’s smile widened. “Wait until you see this next one.”

That was when he shoved her out the window.

Chapter 21: And Now We Play...

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:

AND NOW WE PLAY…

He wanted to laugh. Already he knew he should have been doing so. The situation practically begged for such giddiness. So why would it not come?

During her decent down (or at least what Discord could say he saw before she fell out of view) Fluttershy had said not a word, nor a single sound in protest; only the faint intake of air by his unforeseen forceful touch. Compared to her timid whimper, the shattering of the glass behind her nearly shrieked into the night. It all should have caused him to roll on the floor in-between painful bouts of guffaws. Yet the only thing he felt like doing then was cleaning his up mess.

“But I almost forgot…” he said to the dark, empty room.

He brought up his fingers to snap before rethinking the idea. He still had time. At least another minute. “With all those stairs…”

Leisurely he paced around the circular room, completely enraptured all over again by each beautiful mural. It was one of his favorite stories: how good had overcome evil, all with the power of love. He thought it would go down in history. Rather, he would make it go down in history.

A moment later he reached the last window of his display, and the colorful story came to a close.

The draconequus stopped to view the final panel—him on a large throne, a number of smaller caricature ponies all exclaiming in his direction; an immense sun outlining the consolidated piece. Such hard work, he thought. Such very hard work.

And now disrespectful ponies were trying to pull it all down.

Throughout it all he had known there would be some resistance to his rule… but something like this? He had never thought it would come this far. He also didn’t like what it had been doing to himself.

“I think I must still be changing…” he told no one at all.

As much as he liked to shield himself from unwanted answers by blaming those closest to him instead, Discord couldn’t help but feel that some things were bizarrely beyond his choosing. He had started out as a being of chaos and fun—intriguing games and the subtle ability to play others off one another. Now what had he become? He had set fire to an old friend’s home, uncaring should someone be inside. He had just physically pushed the most gentle of creatures out of a window with no wings to her credit. Sure, he was nearly certain one of her friends waiting below would catch her before she found the pavement. But what if they didn’t? What if they moved and were too late? Even you didn’t watch to see what happened to her, he thought dismally. Even you couldn’t care what her fate may be.

More and more he was sounding like some King he had done away with a long time ago. More and more he was changing despite his best efforts. He could have kept this much quieter than it had been, but he hadn’t. He could have asked forgiveness and probably seen it granted, but he only scoffed at such a notion. He had played each piece on his board with swift accuracy, including himself. And now he was starting to break his own pieces. With his own hands…

In the dark he held both hands out to view—hands that had potentially just killed someone. Both he curled into fists.

“What’s really the difference between a ‘Lord’ and a ‘King’?” he asked. And although no one was around to give him such a thing, he knew the answer already.

I’ve become the villain, he thought casually, and we all know what happens to villains in the end. But maybe that would be all right this time. This final time.

Yet he knew he still had a role to play.

Pulling away some flexible fur he glimpsed his watch. She would just about be reaching the bottom now, given a few stumbles for good measure. He snapped his fingers.

The blue unicorn that had been hiding down the stairs flashed into the room. She was still in mid-sprint and nearly crashed into the wall just ahead. With panicked eyes she came to a halt. Since he’d last seen her she’d put on a costume and hat. “No, no, no, please no…” she mumbled incessantly. Quickly she eyed the stairs and made for them. One step before traveling down, Discord snapped his fingers, sending the pony back a good dozen paces. Each time he did, she only galloped for the stairs once more.

She’s energetic, he thought, before remembering just how effective fear could be on a pony.

Growing tired of her struggles, he snapped her into the crook of one arm, where she tried desperately to hide under her overlarge hat. “Hello there,” he said gently. “I recall you, but I can’t quite remember your name. Though I remember it was a long one. And I’m guessing by these little stars and such on your cape, it had something to do with magic. Am I getting warmer?”

The unicorn only dug deeper into her silky attire.

“I’m afraid that kind of attitude won’t let you leave here tonight. It’s just a question, my dear.”

From somewhere far in the bundle of her fabric, the pony whispered, “Trixie,” before hitching in a shaky breath.

Discord felt something pulsate on his temple. “Trixie what?”

“Trixie… Lulamoon.”

“No. Not that name, your other name. Tell me. Now.”

“The Great and… Powerful Trixie.” She barely got to the end before he heard some raspiness enter her voice.

“That’s better. Now with that out of the way, I can tell you my name. Discord. Although everyone seems to call me ‘Lord’ Discord nowadays. Either or, that doesn’t matter. You did something very silly today, Great and Powerful Trixie. You joined sides with an attempted murderer. And now you’re in the gentle grasp of another attempted murderer. Your life choices are not panning out, Trixie of the Great and Powerful variety.” He leaned in close to the small mound of purple and stars. He whispered, “You never should have helped Twilight Sparkle, my dear. Only bad things can come of it.”

The draconequus began to stroll again. “But let’s not have a little detail as that ruin such a wonderful night. Let’s go look at the stars! They must be your favorite.”

Without another word he carried her towards the newly created hole in the room.

“You were all fools to come here!”

That was the only thing Princess Luna had said before she darted away in the direction of the castle. By that sudden sound in the night, all heads had turned at once, only to watch that motionless yellow and pink shape fall alongside a river of glass. But none of those heads had reacted as fast as they should have. Only Luna. And if she hadn’t arrived at that last minute…

“You should have told me what you were planning on doing, Twilight,” Luna said, as she angrily circled one of the bedrooms in Twilight’s old castle. On the dusty bedspread perched the purple alicorn, head bowed, her eyes still shinning with tears. “It was reckless, it was naïve, and more than anything it was foolish. Do you not understand what kind of creature we are dealing with?”

Even through two sets of closed doors, Twilight could not help but hear Fluttershy crying a few rooms over. The shards of glass that had accompanied her fall had only scratched her back in a couple of spots, but it was everything else involved that made the tears keep on coming. Once a few miles away from Canterlot, her wings had been returned to her. Whether it was by Discord’s doing or because she was now out of his magical range, was anyone’s guess.

“I’m sorry, Luna. I know now how dumb it all was.” She was speaking more to the large pillow she kept clenched to her stomach than to the Princess. “But… I guess I—like Fluttershy—thought maybe there was still a part of him that was savable. I wanted to believe that. But now…”

Luna stopped her stride. “Now you see the error of your ways. And now your friends are being made the ones to suffer.” She approached her. “This is not the same fight from a decade ago, Twilight. Things are much worse than before. You and I? We are already too far in this to back away. But your friends? They stand to lose too much. It would be unkind to keep them here. This shouldn’t need to be their burden.”

Twilight nodded into her pillow; a mix of emotions coursing through the alicorn all at once. For such an academic, she had never felt as moronic as then. For such a fearless fighter, she had never wanted to run and hide as bad. But some things had to be pushed through, no matter the consequences.

She told her softly, “Okay. I’ll talk to them.”

Each pair of eyes that stared at her looked weary and strained. That smidgen of hopefulness she’d glimpsed earlier—perhaps when the liveliest thing of the day was that new piece of jewelry created by Rarity—had all but faded from their eyes. A terrible reality had seeped in. A terrible truth that she never should have let them see.

“I’m sorry, girls,” Twilight said weakly, “but it was a mistake in bringing you here. And only now do I realize just how selfish of me it was to get you involved.” She stared in the direction of the room’s closed doors. A few minutes prior Fluttershy had fallen asleep, and everyone had been more than happy by the news. Twilight would tell her later what she needed to hear. She had earned her rest. Even though she knew such nastiness as what had just happened to her could never fully be erased from her mind. “All of you will return to your homes in the morning, and Luna and I will deal with Discord. In whatever way that proves doing.”

Each of the four shuffled uncomfortably. Rarity was the first to speak. “We… I know things didn’t go exactly to plan tonight, but… but that doesn’t mean we need to give up on it. We’re still a team, Twilight. We’ve always stuck by one another, even under the worst of circumstances.”

Twilight shot back, “Can you name me a worse circumstance than this? When one of us almost died trying to stand up to evil?”

Rarity shied away. “Well… I mean…”

Twilight shook her head. “You all just don’t get it. Discord won’t just rain on your parade anymore; he’ll kill you this time. I have nothing left to lose. He’s already taken everything from me. And no matter what I say, Luna will be there to fight Discord with me. He took away her only family and that’s all she cares about. She and I are too involved in this, you all… you can still walk away from this. And that’s what’s going to happen.”

At the head of the table Rainbow Dash loudly pushed her chair out to stand. She huffed from her nose and glared at the alicorn. “You say that you have nothing left to lose, Twilight? You say that Discord only affected you?” Her eyes began to shimmer. “He took away the only thing I was good at, Twilight. Because he brought Sombra back—because of him—I’ll never be able to fly again. I’ll never be able to teach; I’ll never be able to touch a single cloud again; I’ll never even be able to fly with my own kids, ever! So don’t you dare tell me that you were the only one that’s lost something from all this! I… what’s left for me now? If I go down trying to defeat Discord, I have no problem with it. What else is there for me? Tell me, Twilight. Tell me.”

Twilight meet her eyes and didn’t look away. She owed her friend that much. Emotionlessly she said, “You still have your family, Rainbow. And they’ll always need you.” She regarded the rest. “I’m taking the decision away from you. Either you leave tomorrow by your own accord, or Luna and I will teleport you back ourselves. No one else is getting hurt by Discord. Not while I’m still alive.”

It had been raining for close to an hour now, soaking her cape and hat right through and turning the streets into muddy trenches, but neither of those things had she noticed. The cold wind against her damp fabric caused her teeth to chatter incessantly, but that was another thing she couldn’t be bothered with at the time. Since leaving Canterlot, only a few things remained fixed in her head. One of those was the small chat she had had with the draconequus outside. A chat she thought she would remember forever.

“You’re missing out, my dear. It’s such a breathtaking night out tonight!” He had spoken sweetly, pleasantly. But it was close to the same voice he held while he spoke with the yellow pegasus from before, before shoving her out a window. And considering she had been one of his favorites, she hadn’t held out much hope.

Deeply wrapped in her cloak, she had wanted to say, “That’s okay. I’m fine. Maybe inside would be nicer?” Instead she only whimpered and held onto his arm with all four legs as tightly as she could.

“Nonsense. I won’t allow it.”

With a single snap Trixie found herself standing on the tip of Discord’s tail, hovering several hundred feet in the air. She saw the window they must have exited from, each shard of jagged glass creating a type of jaw in the frame. It was too far to jump towards, she knew. Way too far.

When he had snapped his fingers he had also corrected her garments, allowing her to view the giant moon and the billions of twinkling white dots scattered in all directions.

He smiled. “Isn’t it lovely? I think so. So that makes it so.” He took notice of her hesitation. “Worried about the height? Don’t worry, your good pal Discord’s got you! For now…” His long face swam closer to hers. “You’re a magician, aren’t you? You do tricks for a living. Do you like your job of performing?”

Trixie nodded in silence.

“I’m glad. We should all pursue activities that interest us. But here’s the problem, my little unicorn. In about sixty seconds, I’m going to be letting go of you. And it’ll be up to you whether you want to keep your horn, or try on a new pair of wings. Aren’t unicorns supposed to be fast learners? I hope so, for your sake.” He curved his neck around her quivering body. “Or do you plan on trying that teleportation spell again? The one that worked so well from before? Although it might be a little trickier this time, trying to cast magic while falling to the ground.”

He returned his head to his body and crossed both arms. “You have forty seconds left. Think carefully.”

And she had. And still she wondered if it was the right decision after all, even if it saved her regardless. But could the other option have done the same? It was a question she would ponder for the rest of her days.

By their own accord her friends had left only a few hours prior. Both Luna and Twilight watched them leave, when not a word was said between them. Pinkie Pie and Applejack supported Fluttershy and said they would look after her until things settled down. From just her expression, Twilight thought Fluttershy was more than a little relieved to be walking away from it all. She couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Once it was just the two of them, Luna said to her, “I will meet you in Canterlot tonight. Whether you think of a new plan or not, you will not halt me further. Far too much time has passed already—and each hour that goes by becomes just another insult to my late sister. She deserves better… and she will get it. Tonight.”

Awkwardly she embraced the younger alicorn, unaccustomed to such affection. “Life has not been fair to you, Twilight Sparkle. And for that I am truly sorry. But this is too big to ignore any longer. Some things are simply bigger than ourselves. Goodbye for now.”

In a wash of light Luna vanished from the room, leaving Twilight close to alone for the first time in a while (Spike was still around, but that was something that never changed). She found it was an odd feeling to return to.

Knock. Knock.

A small knock on the door.

Twilight approached cautiously, mentally preparing herself to reprimand whichever of her friends had decided to return to try and join the fight once more. She almost wished it could have gone that way.

“Hello Twilight,” said the wet and doer magician at her door.

“Oh Trixie…” Twilight almost moaned.

Less than two minutes later Spike and Twilight had fixed Trixie with some soup and placed her in front of the fire in their meeting room. On a small hill of cushions she sat, absently eating what had been set on her hooves, all the while watching the roaring fire toasting her blank face.

Twilight approached. “Let us dry off those clothes for you. They’re practically soaked through.”

“Please don’t, Twilight. I like them just fine.”

“But, you might catch cold, and…”—had Trixie just said I instead of her name?—“…what’s happened to you? What happened in that tower?”

“A lot of things, Twilight,” Trixie answered numbly. “A lot of things I don’t want to talk about. He gave me a choice, and I made it. Was it the right one? I don’t really know.” Steadily she removed her hat and Twilight couldn’t help but take a step back. Trixie’s horn had been removed, and only now did she fully notice the two narrow lumps along her back, hiding under her soaked cape. “He gave me wings, Twilight. So I could fly away. I made it to the ground all right—it only hurt a bit. But now what do I have? A magician without a horn… I sound more like some bad comedian than anything.”

Twilight could only shake her head. “Trixie, I’m so sorry. I… can’t imagine. After Fluttershy was thrown from the building we were all just scrambling for answers. We all thought you had escaped or run off sometime before… since Fluttershy had been cast away like that.”

Trixie was still hypnotized by the dancing flames. “I tried, Twilight. I really did. But Discord’s too powerful to trick. Or even misdirect. We were stupid to go against him. I was stupid for coming along. And now I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore.” Finally she turned to her, eyes spilling out. “You can’t beat him, Twilight. He’s already taken so much from me… I don’t want him to take anymore. Please don’t try, Twilight. There’s no use.”

Twilight approached the crestfallen magician and wrapped her in both forelegs. Once there, Trixie wept into her neck. Twilight whispered, “When I defeat him, I will get your horn back. That I promise you. But defeating him is still something that needs to be done, no matter how hard it might be. I’m sorry, Trixie. I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

Once she entered her home it was only a matter of seconds before Soarin came to greet her. From the look on her face after he’d backed away from their abrupt kiss, he knew her latest adventure might not have worked quite the same as previous ones. While the kids were still tuckered out from that afternoon’s mini-flight lesson, they spoke softly in the bedroom.

“What happened, Rainbow?” he asked once they both were seated on the edge of the bed. “You don’t look like someone who’s just won some victory. Didn’t your other friends show up?”

Before Rainbow Dash bluntly departed from their home in light of some grievous news, she had filled Soarin in with the broadest of details. Evil had returned. It needed to be stopped. And only with her five other friends could it be done. With that much said she left, perhaps expecting something a lot more adventurous and a lot less grim. Things had changed, she thought. And now I don’t think things will ever be the same.

Rainbow huffed at the hair dangling over her eyes. “They did. Every one of them did. And in the end it didn’t matter anyways. There was nothing we could do this time to save anyone. The threats still out there and I don’t even know if it’ll be stopped this time. Twilight sent us away and now plans to fight it with just Luna by her side. She’s… trying to protect us—keep us out of harm’s way. But no matter what kind of spin she puts on it, it all adds up to the same thing.” She viewed the floor, somehow finding it more engaging than the invested eyes of her husband. “We were useless. I was useless. With or without wings I still couldn’t do anything. I wasn’t a help to anyone… just as I thought I might be. What happened to me? How did I turn into this?”

Soarin rose and with a hoof brought her head up. His expression wasn’t one of sympathy, as much as she had expected it. “I’m sick of this, Rainbow. This has been going on for too long. You can’t keep pitying yourself when you’re feeling down. That’s not the reason I married you, and it wasn’t the fact that you could fly, either. I married you for you and I love you for you. That’ll never change. But what is changing is the very nature of you, and I hate to see it happen. Don’t you understand, Rainbow? That even after all this time—in all your successes and failures—you’ll always have the ponies who care about you most. You’ll always have me, you’ll always have the kids, and considering each of your friends came to this doomsday event you barely touched on, I’m pretty sure you could count on them, too.”

Rainbow was about to speak when he planted a kiss on her lips. After a few seconds of gruff annoyance, she went with it and felt that tight ball around her heart loosen considerably.

Once apart, Soarin told her, “As long as you don’t let the good and the bad change who you are deep down inside, nothing can affect you, Rainbow. You do what you can, and you go on to better yourself. Everyday. In whatever way possible.”

He gave her a second to chew it over, and then left to check on the kids. Rainbow didn’t want him to leave, but couldn’t stop him if she wanted to. She felt too warm at that moment to possibly interject. So instead she just spread out on the bed, trying desperately to hold onto the beautiful fact that Soarin loved her more than she even used to love herself.

Only a few seconds later did a letter slide out from their fireplace.

Princess Luna took in as much of the day as she could. She felt tired and weary, angry and desperate, but if this was to be her last day in Equestria, she should at least give it one final glimpse before saying goodnight.

Along a deserted path she walked, between tall trees and under thin branches. Her territory had always been the night, with every one of its misgivings—rarely had she ever honestly stopped and contemplated just what went on during the day. All the things her sister had created. All the things that remained even after she had left.

I will do this for you, Celestia, she told herself. Your murderer will no longer go unpunished.

For the past few days she had traveled to all parts Equestria, all except for Canterlot. She had never announced herself, but rather strolled along as if in a dream. She had much experience in dreams, so she had traveled with grace. But once again in the public view of others, it was the oddest of things she had found. Unlike what the usurper Discord had led her to believe, most ponies did not hold harsh judgment against her. Quite a few even embraced her while she watched her sister’s gorgeous world continue to turn.

“We’re glad to have you back, Princess,” a young mare had told her just on the street, after beaming her bright smile at her. “You might have been gone but you were always in our hearts.”

Luna had never been one to surmise the emotions of others readily, so before going on she simply patted the mare on the head. Only a few streets over did she have close to the same encounter, this time with a whole herd that had been told of her return. Many kind words were shared; for the first time, many small fillies were introduced to the Princess of the Moon; and, as much as Luna tried to shy away from them, many hugs were received.

“We’re so sorry for your loss.”

“Celestia’s presence will always live on.”

“You were strong to come back. Welcome home, Princess!”

When she noticed the thick of ponies surrounding her had not been thinning but instead thickening, she shouted her exit and flew upwards, an entire sea of hooves waving her off. It had never been like that before, she noted. Never had she felt such warmth from her subjects. Before she had been nothing but a Princess in a family of monarchs, but now she was a part of their world—a part they seemed to want in that world. It had been enough to make her eyes water. Before, that was, she remembered exactly why they felt as they did.

Discord’s lie, she thought as she walked in her woods. The biggest lie—the gentlest of lies. Celestia might have liked this world he had made, but that didn’t make this right.

“Does it?” she asked the bright sun up above.

On the flight over, Twilight couldn’t help but wonder how Spike would exit that room should she perish in the night. When his protests had extended further and further in the deplorable search of some out of sight solution, Twilight had shamefully asked him into one of the downstairs rooms, where she then locked the door before teleporting out. Although he might not want to break the wooden door right away, she knew he would should the situation became desperate. There was also a window he could break, if that was to his liking. And with any more luck, she might be the one to let him out of there herself.

Yet she didn’t think that would be the case. Not this time.

In the pitch black of night she glided among the clouds, dipping a random hoof into their wispy bodies. She had never been the biggest fan of flight, but if this were to be the last time she would, then she’d better enjoy every last moment of everything.

“And before it even begins, it all ends…”

Already Canterlot was in sight. Already she felt like turning around and doing the route once more, stalling for one last break along this horrible quest. It wouldn’t do, though. She came here to finish it. And she would. She only hoped what she took from Fluttershy’s brief conversation with Discord actually held merit. It might be their only chance of categorically winning the day. If it was a straight on fight between the three of them, he could as easily just snap the pair into the middle of some volcano. But that was never the type of game he liked to play. Discord never liked the easy victory.

Or that was what she was counting on.

A dozen steps before the bridge she landed; the same spot on that miserable night some time ago where she first heard about the state of her poor brother. Already Luna was there, once more gazing at her city—her castle, her home, her very own Empire. She didn’t turn when she landed beside her.

“Good evening, Twilight,” she said absently. “I hope you have prepared yourself for this.”

Twilight nodded. “As much as I could, Luna. But Discord has a way of subjugating much preparation. The last plan I had almost got a friend killed.”

“Then you must be prepared for that as well. Death is waiting for someone tonight. Be it him or us or all three, I cannot say. But this is it. I will not be impeded any longer.”

Twilight looked away from her and to the sleepy city ahead. Now all that remained was for the monster to appear, as they knew he would.

“Show yourself, Discord!” Luna yelled. “Let us put an end to this!”

A quiet laugh filled the scene. From behind a thin pole did the draconequus slither from, draped in shadows and with the faintest of grins. Somehow, he looked far more tired than usual. “Hello, ladies,” he greeted. “Have you come to turn me into stone after all? Oh wait. You’d need the Elements of Harmony for that. Plus you’d need your other five friends, too.” He scratched his chin. “Or is that only four now? I kinda’ missed out on Fluttershy’s landing. Was it graceful? Naw. I guess that’s not really her style, is it?”

Twilight’s jaw tightened. “What’s happened to you?” She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to do a lot of things to him. And yet the stillness of the night made her keep the full extent of her voice at bay. “How could you do this? How can you keep on doing this? Fluttershy was your friend! When no one else wanted to be, she still was! And for her efforts you tried to kill her!” She took in a hurried breath. “You’ve turned into such a monster, Discord! The worst kind—the kind that doesn’t even realize what their doing to others. We never should have tried to reason with you—you’re beyond reasoning. You’re beyond saving. If you die tonight you should know you brought this on yourself. And if I die then I’ll be glad it was in the face of such evil. Because that’s what you’ve become, Discord: evil. And there’s not a single way to twist it anymore. No lies to cover what you’ve done. You’re evil… and your time has come.”

His original grin had faded since she began. Only with simple understanding did he view her, a creature seemingly out of wrath to give. Or was that only to keep their defenses down?

“When you’re right, you’re right, Twilight,” he said slowly. “We can’t keep going like this. I know we can’t. But what did you expect to happen here? That I would just give up and surrender? What can you actually do to me, Princesses? You are out of options!”

Luna turned to face Twilight. In just that short glimpse she knew it would be now or never. If Twilight had thought of some new plan, then she would need to unveil it now. Otherwise Luna would strike, and the end would come in haste.

Twilight took a step onto the bridge. “I want to play a game, Discord.”

The draconequus raised a single brow. “Sorry, pony, but it seems I left all my board-games in the castle.”

The alicorn shook her head. “No. A bigger game. Winner takes all.”

Now it was Discord’s turn to step forward, his thin neck lowering to be on the same level as her. “Go on.”

“You mentioned to Fluttershy about the first time we met, in the maze. She said you had fun; that you enjoyed it. Well… I want to play another one. But this time just the three of us. If Luna and I can make it out of your game, you’ll promise to go away forever. If we should lose, then you can banish us or kill us both. It doesn’t matter. The choice is yours.”

A grin found his lips again. “And why would I even bother, Twilight? I hold all the cards now. I have everything and you have nothing. I could kill you both tonight and Equestria would be better for it. Even you must see that.”

“It probably would,” Twilight admitted, “but for how long would it stay like that? Before you’d find some new way of ruining it all over again? Admit it, Discord. You like a challenge. You like games. That’s all this thing’s been up until now, hasn’t it? Just a game. So why don’t you keep playing? Why don’t you put us in your game?”

Discord looked virtually sour. “You think you know me so well…”

“I don’t. But I know what’s in your nature. And I don’t think you could say no to something like this.”

For a very long moment Discord’s mismatched eyes floated from one mare to the next. His breathing became labored and he appeared almost ready to pounce. When one eye started to twitch he spun around and Twilight readied herself as best she could. Still with his back to them he said angrily, “One hour. At the entrance to the maze. If I were you, I’d take that time to say goodbye to everything you hold dear, for when you both lose at my game, you will never glimpse Equestria again.”

With a quick snap he vanished from the bridge.

Luna turned to her. “Are you sure this is wise, Twilight? Discord will never play a straight game with us.”

Twilight lowered her head. “I know, Princess. But I think the only way of defeating him is by playing at his own game.”

Chapter 22: The Game Part One

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

THE GAME PART ONE

Since a single hour wasn’t enough time to do much of anything, Twilight Sparkle went to the head of the Canterlot maze and merely sat alone in the grass. Luna had gone off once their brief meeting with Discord came to an off-kilter close, and said she’d return before their game would begin. Twilight didn’t think the Princess would miss it for anything in Equestria.

Maybe this will be the last hour of everything, she thought tiredly, glimpsing the wide, dark sky with its millions of tiny stars. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful night.

She had wanted to spend her last allotted hour planning what may lay in wait for her inside Discord’s game, but something like that was a near impossibility. The old Discord could barely be counted on to follow a single formula. And now this new Discord? He might very well murder them both the moment they enter—save himself the trouble of getting clever and figuring out other ways to do away with his troublesome duo.

What she would find inside was anyone’s guess.

A warm body sat down beside her.

“If we are strong tonight,” Luna said, “we can make it out of there, Twilight. We only need keep our wits about us… and our minds intact.”

Twilight glimpsed the dark-blue mare. “What were you doing before?”

“I was walking through my city for what may very well be the last time. Besides that horrible tower the draconequus has erected, he has kept my city close to the same as it’s always been. I will always love it—and its citizens—whether or not I should leave it all tonight.”

Twilight rested her head on Luna’s side. “I almost thought you’d be grabbing your armor or something, for this last fight.”

Luna laughed bitterly. “That type of battle will not be found here tonight, Twilight Sparkle. Although Discord has just shown that he himself is not above physical violence, I don’t believe he’ll try it unless he absolutely has to. I might even know of a spell to keep him in a single spot, but only if I can maintain enough contact with him.”

“If we can’t turn him to stone what good would that do? Nothing else seems to effect him.”

“I was merely trying to pass the time,” Luna said absently.

For a long while the pair stared at the stars while they kept each other warm.

Twilight broke the silence. “I almost get the feeling Discord wants this last fight; that he’s sick of pretending to be good for the public while being nasty everywhere else. In no way is he that same creature I knew from before.”

Luna nodded solemnly. “I cannot disagree with you, Twilight. All Discord seems to be doing now is destruction to himself—the only part that’s troubling about it is that he wants to include as many as possible. But if he wants to die tonight, I will grant him that wish.”

With that out in the open, the two alicorns waited for their hour to be up.

“Oh, there they are! We’re not too late!”

No. Please, no. Not like this. Not like THIS!

From her complacent seat on the grass, Twilight flew to her hooves and glared in the direction behind her. Along the dirt path marched six figures—all figures she could plainly tell even in the gloom of the night.

“No,” she mumbled. “You can’t… you can’t be here.” Then she found more than anger behind that voice. “You shouldn’t be here!”

All five of her multi-colored companions stopped a good dozen paces before them. Most tried to meet her eyes but slowly most found the worn path instead. A good few feet taller than the rest, Spike pushed his way forward.

He said, “If you’re going to be mad at someone, be mad at me, Twilight. I send them all letters the moment you made them leave. What you’re doing, it’s not the way it’s supposed to go. I think there might be something else we can try.”

“It’s too late for that, Spike!” Twilight was furious at him for two very distinct reasons. For one, even in the light of it all he was still trying so damn hard to help, and for another, this now caused her to send them away all over again—crush what little spirit might remain. It was still something she had to do. She told them bluntly, “This is it! It ends tonight! Luna and I will play Discord’s game and whoever wins will win! That’s all there is to it! The power of friendship will not save us this time, girls. I’m sorry, but… you’re only wasting your time here… there’s nothing you can do.”

Spike held his stance. “But maybe there is, Twilight. When all six of you got together again for the first time in years, you set off some kind of wave of power. You all might not have seen it, but I did. Every light in the castle were ready to blow! There… there might be something to it, you know? It’s… it’s still something we haven’t taken into account!”

Twilight shook her head angrily. “You’re right, Spike, there is something to it; faulty wiring in my old castle and nothing more. Without the Elements of Harmony, we have no power over Discord. If we at least play his game and triumph in the end, he might just break himself by his own curving set of rules. It’s what we have to do… only without the rest of you.” She came towards the group, the sharpness of her tone edging away. “Each and every one of you I cannot thank enough for what you’ve done. I might have shunned you for years but you came back the moment I called. That’s something I will never forget. And even though the brief time we spent together wasn’t the greatest of our lives, it was still probably the best time I’ve had in the last long while. I love you all and I’ll never forget our friendship. So because of that I won’t let you in that maze tonight.”

Head lowered, Rarity broke away from the group. “We understand, dear. We thought it was a feeble attempt at best, but that’s what stubborn ponies tend to do—try and try again. At least we know what you’re up to now, and… at least we can say goodbye, should this be the end.”

She wrapped a leg around Twilight, pulling her in. Over the next few minutes each one of her friends came over to say their own words of parting. Twilight, meanwhile, tried to steel herself as best she could. This time she would not cry. She would not yield on her promises. She was only doing what was best for them all… as hard as it might have been.

Spike came last and for the longest embrace. They quietly agreed that if things went sour tonight, he would travel to a more dragon-filled section of Equestria, where perhaps his notoriety hadn’t been heard of all that readily.

When they more or less had their say, her six friends reformed their little group and peered at both alicorns. Rainbow Dash said, “I still think it should be me in there with you, Twilight. He’s taken from me just as much as everyone else.”

Twilight regarded her warmly. “But he hasn’t taken everything, Rainbow. Not yet. And he won’t.”

Luna and Twilight turned to face the large entrance of the maze, when another voice caused them to stop.

“Oh, how could I forget?”

Rarity shot out from the pack, saddlebag in tow. With a skid she stopped just inches from Luna, hurriedly throwing a piece of jewelry over her head. It was of the same variety the rest had received, this time dark-blue. Luna held the end of it in her hoof, before smiling ardently. “Thank you, Rarity. It is beautiful.”

Rarity waved it off. “I know that’s a lie, but that’s not the point. You saved Fluttershy the other night when none of us could. Although we might not have ever made it completely clear, we are your friends. I just want you to know that, Princess.”

“Now I do.” Luna regarded the rest. “And I thank you all. There is much good in Equestria. And for that there is much reason to fight for it.”

The act couldn’t help but make Twilight stare at her own piece of jewelry—the one she had honestly forgotten still dangled freely around her neck. From there she found each one of her other friends doing almost close to the same thing with their own pieces. Now she knew what she would wear until the very end.

Creeeeak!

The front of the hedge maze parted down the middle and slowly drifted out. In the hushed tones of the night it sounded completely wretched—like rusted bits of old machinery. Or had that only been Discord’s sound of choice?

“Our hour must be up,” Twilight muttered flatly. She peered up at Luna. “Let’s do this before I lose my nerve.”

Luna only nodded and began the short trek to the maze. Soon after Twilight followed.

“This still isn’t right!” Rainbow shouted somewhere from behind them.

Applejack answered back, “Shush now! This isn’t the time.”

Twilight didn’t turn to face them again. If she did she knew she would be lost. If she stopped moving at all, she thought she might be lost as well. So towards the darkened interior of the maze she trotted—its towering hedges never appearing as foreboding as on that dark, dark night.

Into the dimness beyond the large swinging entrance Luna crossed followed by Twilight. When she finally came to a halt inside she heard the doors start their steady trip back inward. She would not face her friends one last time—it would only be cruel. Not while a pair of immovable doors closed her off from the rest of Equestria.

Then came the sounds.

One of her friends was roughly nudged aside; another friend exclaimed something just out of earshot. The only thing she made out was Rarity’s higher-pitched exclamation: “Rainbow! What are you—” But that was when the doors behind them shut tight, and all noise suddenly vanished from the world

All except for the rapid breathing of a pony.

But Luna would never be this scared, she thought distantly. Not now. Not ever.

In the dimness of the maze Twilight turned to find the panting face of Rainbow Dash, sternly glaring at whatever the alicorn would expel at her.

Twilight only screamed while she galloped into her, pinning her shaken friend to the uneven hedge wall. “Rainbow, what are you doing! I already told you not to come in here!” Already she could glimpse the mask her friend tried to keep over her face—the tough exterior as well as the frightened interior. Deflated, she removed her from the wall. To Luna she said, “We need to get her out of here. We need to get her out right now.”

Luna only nodded, before she pointed her horn at the mangled flyer. Rainbow shut her eyes but opened them when nothing came of it. Luna said softly, “I don’t think he will allow her to leave. She is wholly inside his game now. What magic we can use is now up to him.”

Twilight pleaded with her friend, shaking her head from side to side. “Why? Why, Rainbow, why? Don’t you understand I was only trying to protect you? You didn’t need to do this!”

Rainbow grinned faintly. “But I needed to do this, maybe to prove something to myself. But none of that matters anymore. I’m in your game now, Twilight. And I’ve never been one that liked to lose.”

“But—” Twilight began, before a terrible shriek of electrical static filled their dark space.

“Welcome ladies, to the final game!” Discord trumpeted through some well-hidden speaker. “I, your gracious Lord Discord, will be your host! So let’s get some lights in here!”

Three circles of blasting yellow light found each mare at the entrance. They all shielded their eyes while trying to find the source of the voice.

“Show yourself, Discord!” Luna yelled. “These theatrics are only meant to stall!”

A forth glowing light flashed onto a tall hedge just in front of them. A moment later, a crude puppet on strings fell to its immediate center—a crude Discord puppet. The mouth barely matched its words. “Oh my! This isn’t good. Have you already broken one of my rules, ladies?”

Twilight stepped forward. “You haven’t even made any rules yet!”

“About that you are correct,” mouthed the puppet, “but perhaps this one was your rule, Twilight. Let’s see if my numbers match up: one alicorn, two alicorns, and something resembling a pegasus? I don’t remember including her on the guest list!”

“Then let her leave the game, Discord,” Luna added. “Your fight is still just with us—Twilight and I.”

The Discord puppet swung awkwardly from right to left. It might have been a mock attempt at shaking its head. “No. No, I don’t think so. I think I can work with this. I will let her stay, since she seems so desperate to do so.” The puppet lunged passed Twilight and hovered a few inches from Rainbow’s head. “Don’t you?”

With a hoof Rainbow tried to knock the chunk of paint and wood aside, but in an instant it was back to the wall of the well-lit hedge. “Here are the rules, players. There will not be many, so pay attention. Firstly, to win, you only need to reach the center of this maze. But only if all three of you make it there. If anyone cheats… or gives up the game… then I win.”

“You plan on taking away our horns and wings like you did with Fluttershy and Trixie?” Twilight shouted.

The puppet performed a full body shake again. “No. You may keep your gifts. They will not be of any use to you, unless I let them. But now I think we are wasting too much precious time… and I am already growing bored. Prepare yourselves.”

All three mares unknowingly lowered to the ground, ears flat on their heads. When the considerable overhead lights noisily clicked off, Twilight took a sudden intake of breath, all the while trying to adjust her eyes to the gloom of the maze.

“One more thing,” Discord chuckled over his speaker, “before you think I’m going soft on you all, this won’t be a team game. I don’t think that would be rightly fair. So that means you’re each going to be playing… alone.”

Twilight turned to peer at her friends. But only a moment later did the snap of fingers send them all away.

“Come face me you traitor!”

For what felt close to an hour, Luna had been circling the winding maze. Each corner she took only fed into more dark green hedges—each turn she made only caused her to lose what little bearings she had. More important than that, though, was each wrong move only made her all the more anxious. She wanted to find her sister’s killer. That night she wanted to see justice prevail.

“Discord!” she shouted, while shooting a cone of light from her horn. The wall of bush in front of her charred brightly before revealing a gapping, makeshift gap. Instantly she trotted through, honestly surprised the draconequus made of tricks and riddles would allow such a large error in his game. Walls that could be broken? she mused. What else could be used against him?

Once she’d found only more paths leading in opposite directions, Luna rose into the air and past the overlong walls, ones that had only served to help spin her around. Ten feet up. Twelve. Discord had never said anything about flying above the maze, she thought. His error could only be her gain. Fourteen. Eighteen. Only now did the sky turn green.

Instantly Luna felt disoriented. She glimpsed the ground to help.

The only thing there was the pitch black expanse of sky, onward and forever. Somewhere along her hurried flight she had been turned upside down, and now it was clear why Discord allowed the two of them to keep their wings.

They had never been meant to climb above these walls.

Destroy them in search of the maze’s center? It was possible, but in the long run did it actually mean all that much? Especially if walls could be erected and moved with just the snapping of fingers?

Luna landed in a huff and shut her eyes from the tiny dots in her vision. She gave herself a moment before continuing on.

“You’re a coward, Discord!” she yelled.

Only that was right before she saw the shape of someone out of the corner of her eye.

It was odd how at peace Rainbow Dash felt once alone inside the maze. Nimbly she trotted from one end of the path to the next, unaware of just what choices her next turn would cause. She remembered the last time she had played such a game—the only other time in her life when she had been flightless.

She knew she should have been worried—that this new Discord meant business of the most depressing of degrees. Yet somehow she just couldn’t feel that way.

She had no one else to blame for joining the game. She was helping her friends—and all of Equestria for that matter. To her it was simply the way things were supposed to be, or the closest form of it.

Even when Twilight had summoned them all to her old Castle it had never quite seemed as familiar as this. To her it felt as if her alicorn friend had only wanted them to tag along while she went off to save the day—get her book and then blast the draconequus into some tiny hill of dust. So what would have happened to the five others once Twilight had finished? Would life merely continue on in its mundane way? Rainbow hadn’t liked the sound of that. She had things to prove. She had opinions to quell. Mostly her own.

“What…?” she whispered.

During her long, circling search, the only sound keeping company with the flightless pegasus was the noise of crisp grass underhoof, as well as the gentle wind as it blew along the tips of the maze’s immense crisscrossing walls. Only now a different noise altogether cut into the void, something queerly familiar. Yet such a noise had no place in a maze.

Rainbow followed the noise down a new path before finding it weakening. Retreating, she tried a new fork in the road, only for the sound to grow. One single left turn gave her the answer she had been looking for… as well as a dozen questions more.

At the very end of a narrow path had been placed a wooden door plainly cut into the wall. The top half was frosted glass and read “ROOM 334” in thick block letters. Even from such a distance she could hear what was inside. But still she had to be certain.

Rainbow trotted closer and the sounds increased and differentiated. The conversation of a pair of ponies swam to her—airy and excited. The scrape of quill on parchment came next; the creak of a chair roughly pulled out; the quick rub of a pair of wings repeatedly folded and opened.

She stopped a few feet from the door, eyeing up its polished gold handle. It was a door she did not want to open, as much as her curiosity might have wanted her to.

Only her path backward had been blocked.

A large hedge had been created while she stood transfixed on the door. And now it seemed to be pressing into her. Inch by inch. Silent and ominous. Inch by inch. The dark sky up above carefully being swept aside. Inch by inch.

It appeared she had no where else to go but in.

“…thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven…”

Twilight had her face pointed down at her hooves, each step onward ticking away in her head. To her calculations she then added each step, pinpointing just where she was inside the wide, wide maze.

It had only been a few years after Discord’s first game that Twilight had asked Celestia for a map of the Canterlot maze. Using a series of calculations she uncovered a secret system that if used correctly, would always lead the user to its center with minimal effort. The only question was if Discord had changed the maze to his liking while he set up his game. Yet only with a brief hour of notice…

“…forty-five, forty-six…”

Twilight took a left.

“…fifty-two, fifty-three…”

Twilight took a right.

Along with the darkness of the night and the steady pattern of hoof raising and lowering, it caused the alicorn to nearly march along in autopilot. The calculations in her head would continue on regardless—she’d need to concentrate with just enough force. The only thing she needed to be mindful of was any changes to her surroundings.

“Huh?”

Her latest step on grass hadn’t wielded the satisfying crunch of fresh earth as the others. This latest one barely made a sound at all. Plus didn’t this material look a whole lot softer than the ground she’d been trampling before?

“Hello, Twilight.”

She jerked awake from the voice, not right away noticing just how lovely it had sounded. Not at all had it been the high-pitched, laughter-soaked timbre of Discord’s, but rather a far more genuine calling.

“Mom?” she asked the mare that looked like her mother.

Is my mother, she thought. Isn’t my mother! she thought again.

Since stepping on the first substance much more pliable than grass, Twilight peered around and found herself in the entrance of her old home. In front of a roaring fire was her mother, Twilight Velvet, seated pleasantly on their couch. The interior was unjustly dark, and any windows that used to exist had been removed, yet at the moment it all seemed fine. Her very own mother was smiling at her, so how could it not be fine? Her mother had always loved her and cared for her, so why did she feel as nervous as she did?

Next came her father, exiting a door behind the couch that fed into their kitchen. That same smile as her mother’s brightening his face. “We’re so happy you’ve come back, Twilight. It’s been so long since you’ve visited.”

Twilight shook her head in the corner of the room, unnoticing of the disappearance of the door that had allowed her entrance. “You can’t be here. You’re not my parents. You’re just a trick and nothing more.”

Her mother busily curled up on the couch only regarded her pleasantly. “We can be whatever you want us to be, Twilight. We only want to talk. It’s been so long since you’ve visited. It’s almost felt as though you didn’t want to see us anymore.”

Twilight took a tentative step into the room. “I meant to visit… really, I did. But, things…” Then some large ticking noise pulled her from her rambling plight; every sudden snap of sound only increasing in its fury. At least it got her mind back on track. “But that doesn’t matter anyway. You’re not who you say you are. You’re just a representation of them. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Twilight,” her mother told her, as that first bit of pain entered her caring face. Finally she turned away from Twilight and to the wall facing the couch, where the source of all that damn ticking noise had arisen.

Twilight followed her mother’s gaze and came upon something that had no business in their home. Above the fireplace—and far bigger than anything else in the room—hanged a clock of silver and black. It had six markers instead of twelve. Each tock of the second hand sent the larger one ahead far speedier than any normal clock should. If Twilight had to guess, that clock would only deal with six minutes per full rotation. And already the second hand was about to reach its end.

Again her mother peered at her. “It looks like it’s almost time, Twilight.”

For too long the shape had been avoiding her.

Every turn in the maze should have sealed its fate. Every thunderous gallop from the dark-blue alicorn should have caught up with the creature most assuredly, yet every turn she made only allowed her a brief glimpse of her target.

All she knew was that it was large and it was white. All she knew was that she wanted to catch it more than anything else at the time—perhaps to prove to Discord that his game could be bested.

In rage Luna growled as she lost her balance rounding the latest corner, painfully scraping against the edge of another leafy wall. Still she galloped on. Even when her breath tasted close to burning coal did she continue her pursuit. One more turn, she told herself. Just one more. Just—

“What?” she whispered, in-between gasps of air. “It can’t be. You can’t be.”

The last corner gave way to the creature that had concealed itself for so long. Only now did Luna wish she had just let her run, and had never chased after.

“Celestia?”

Before a large field of lush grass and vast trees stood the Princess of the Sun. Her hair blew in an unseen breeze and she viewed her sister wearily. A moment later she gave her back to her and trotted to the center of the open land, where under a wide elm a small picnic had been arranged. As she strolled, the sun rose from the horizon, deftly cutting out the constant chill in the air.

Timidly Luna approached the new area, eyes busily searching every nook and cranny for a certain draconequus. We mustn’t believe a thing, she thought rhythmically. We mustn’t believe a single thing.

“He will not find you here, Luna,” Celestia said, as she sat on the edge of a flattened blanket. She sipped on a steaming cup of tea. “He does not know of this place. He will not bother us here.”

Luna came closer, still far from the shade of the large elm her sister had seated herself under. She said to her, “You aren’t my sister. My sister is dead and you are nothing but an illusion. A great travesty that should never have occurred.” Already a lump had formed in her throat, giving an edge to her voice.

“I may not be Celestia, my dear sister,” the shape said, “but why does that need to change a thing? Why can you not enjoy my presence while it is being so pleasantly offered? Have you not missed me while I’ve been gone?”

The shape that took Celestia’s form pushed a small cup of tea towards her. She viewed her tiredly, longingly.

For the briefest of moments Luna pondered actually taking that cup and sitting next to her sister. But in no way could that have been the real her. Nothing could be. And now that feeling of being pulled in two painful directions at once was making her eyes water.

When Luna did not approach or engage with it, the shape continued regardless. “I rather like the new Equestria. Ponies have never seemed as happy as now. That’s all I ever truly wanted, Luna. I only wanted what was best for my subjects. Do you honestly want to destroy what little happiness they’ve found for themselves?”

“Save your words,” Luna shot back thickly. “You are a forgery and a bad one at that. I can never believe a word that you say and you are only wasting your time. Celestia is dead and that cannot be changed.”

The shape’s eyes lit up. “And what makes you say that?”

Three dozen pegasi sat patiently before her. More than a few had matching Wonderbolts jackets and even more than that appeared almost on the edge of ecstasy once Rainbow Dash entered the room.

As she viewed each over in turn a lull befell the large classroom and Rainbow stepped awkwardly to the panel set up at the front. A series of notes had already been prepared for her—bullet points and diagrams at the ready. It was about flight and she knew it front to back. Had this been the lesson plan she had been practicing from before? When she had bailed out on Soarin at the last minute?

She couldn’t honestly recall.

“We love you, Rainbow Dash!” some mare in the upper corner shouted.

“You’re the greatest Wonderbolt ever!” another added joyously.

Rainbow couldn’t help but smile as she shuffled her cards. The notion of how—or just why—she had gotten to that particular place on that fateful night somehow slipping from mind.

After examining her first card she tossed it aside. These facts she had memorized some time ago.

“They first thing we’re going to cover is wingspan compared to aerodynamics,” she said studiously, as she pointed to a labeled diagram on the board. “When one wing is fully stretched, it allows greater maneuverability around tight corners. When both are open to their fullest, it allows—”

“Are we going to be getting examples to all this?”

An unseen voice from the room.

Rainbow turned from the board. “Who asked that?”

A yellow mare with orange at the tips of her mane stood up from the thick of them. She appeared tired and something more. Pained?

“I did,” the mare said in a strong tone. “If you’re supposed to be teaching us about flying, then are we going to be getting a demonstration? Or is this gonna be nothing but note-taking from you?”

Rainbow returned to her little panel to review her cards. “Well… I…” she started, before something much larger came to mind. “Spitfire?”

The mare standing above the crowd wobbled from side to side. A thin trickle of something red escaped her mouth. It didn’t stop her from talking. “Why would we ever take lessons from a Wonderbolt that can’t even fly? Is this some joke? Because I’m having a hard time finding it funny.”

“She’s right!”

“Yeah! How does that make any sense?”

More than a few voice added to the deceased mare’s chorus. Rainbow, meanwhile, could only back away from each nasty taunt until she collided with the board behind her. The gentle squeak of a door told her an exit had been made from where she’d first entered, so before anything more could be said, she ran from the room as fast as she could.

It was the most horrifying thing she had ever seen in her life, and as much as she had wanted to look away from it all she found it nearly impossible. She cared for them too much; she wanted to help them that bad.

With untold anxiety Twilight watched as the odd clock on the wall concluded its first minute, before turning back to her mother on the couch. She had thought the clock’s original ticks and tocks were as loud as things could get, but the shrieking bang that accompanied the passing sixty-seconds sent more than shivers up her spine.

Barely noticing what was happening to her, Twilight Velvet viewed her daughter, as deep wrinkles formed around her eyes and forehead; as new stripes of grey cascaded down her mane. Desperately, Twilight watched as nearly the same thing befell her father, who was still hovering near the entrance to their kitchen.

Twilight screamed, “What’s going on! What’s happening to you?”

That loving smile never left her mother’s slumping face. “We’re aging, Twilight. Just as any normal creature is meant to do. Only your father and I are doing it much faster than most.”

“But…” she stumbled out. “But why?”

“You’re an alicorn, sweetie. Everyone around you will age—everyone around you will expire before you’ll ever possibly be able to let them go. Soon, perhaps in a thousand years or more, you’ll view the passage of time as quickly as it’s happening right now. Time will only quicken for you, Twilight. It will never halter—it will never slow.” Her mother turned back to the clock. “Another minute; another decade.”

The overwhelming chime of the clock as it completed another loop.

Twilight’s eyes filled with tears as another ten years took its miserable toll on her parents.

“Please stop!” she wailed. “I don’t want to see this!”

Even in her new frailty did her mother regard her openly. “It doesn’t hurt, Twilight. It’s only natural. It’s only what life intended for us all. And it will only seem all the fleeting, the longer you live.”

The never-ending ticking that filled every inch of the room increased its momentum. Twilight yelled in anguish while she blasted a bright beam at the oversized clock, only to find it hardly scratched by her efforts.

“Just know that we love you, Twilight,” her mother said, as that lively glow from her eyes slowly ebbed away. “It’s only sad that we’ll never get to see you again, even in the next life.”

Since Twilight couldn’t bear to watch her aging parents for one more second she leapt onto the source of her new found misery. With shaky hooves she latched onto the hurrying clock; beads of sweat standing on her brow as she tried to rip it all down. When the last minute came and went with thunderous pronouncement she fell to the carpeted floor, with what remained of the shattered mechanism still held in her hooves.

In the absence of the clock the room was far too silent.

“Oh why…” she murmured, before she collapsed to the floor in a heap of anguish.

All that remained of her mother was a hill of dust near a pillow on the couch. She didn’t need to view the entrance to the kitchen to properly learn what had become of her father, too.

Twilight knew it wasn’t real. She knew her parents had never been brought into the game. But that still didn’t change the fact that everything her mother had told her had been right. And yet there was still nothing that could change the fact.

Minutes later a somber voice from a new door stirred her from her sorrow.

“We should talk, Twilight,” he said.

Chapter 23: The Game Part Two

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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:

THE GAME PART TWO

Luna couldn’t fully believe what she was hearing. To prove the contrary she shook her head most adamantly; shut her eyes from the imposter posing as her sister. So why had she remained where she was? Why had she let it continue to talk, while a retreat had been perfectly available?

“You can’t do that,” she told the shape. “No one can bring her back. She’s dead and Discord’s the cause of it all. You can’t change my path with pretty promises. Justice will be found here tonight.”

“You say it to be impossible, dear sister,” the shape taunted, “but you don’t even realize something close to it has already been done.”

Luna said not a word. She didn’t back away either.

The shape continued, “Discord brought Sombra back from the dead when everyone thought him to be gone for good. Why could the same not be done for Celestia?”

Luna shook her head. “Discord brought back a monster! Sombra was never brought back alive—he was brought back as something else entirely!”

The Celestia-shape was unfazed. “That’s because Sombra began as a monster. He was brought back to life and remained as he had been. Evil will always be evil.”

Luna said through tight lips, “And say I agree to your proposal? What would I need to sacrifice for my sister’s return?”

The shape smiled. “You’d only need to end this game. Give it all up and forfeit to Discord.”

“He would kill me if I did,” she said, “as well as Twilight and her friend.”

“But what if that were not the case?” The shape got to its hooves and began circling the dark alicorn. Luna, meanwhile, kept her distance while keeping pace. “What if Discord could give you back your sister, and all he would ask in return is that you’d leave Equestria forever.” Something radiant flashed beneath its eyes. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, Luna? To be away from the rest of the world with just your sister for company? Imagine leaving all the responsibility of governing behind. No more worries. No more cares. Discord will take care of everything while you’re away… and you can have your sister all to yourself. What was the last thing you even told her, before you left her? Did you even tell her you loved her? Or are raw emotions still alien to a being such as you?” It waited for her to speak. When she didn’t it added, “Haven’t you ever wanted to live for the first time in your long, long life? It can be granted to you. All you need to do is give up the game.”

Luna asked, “And what happens to Twilight and Rainbow Dash?”

“Why do you care? You left everyone once before, you can do so again.”

Luna waited a long time before speaking. There was such burning behind both eyes. “You’re only trying to tempt me. I know it’s nothing but a lie.”

The shape smoothly closed the gap between them. “But what if it’s not?”

“Celestia cannot be brought back!”

“But what if she could?”

Luna gave pause to think.

As soon as she was out of its scope, the door leading to the classroom slammed shut and evaporated into the hedge. All this she did not see, as she was still in mid-sprint in the one direction she wanted to go—forward, without ever looking back.

“Mistake…” she huffed out. “This was such a—”

A few hurried corners later found her gawking in the direction of two small fillies that had no place in that maze. On the soft grass they crawled, surveying the tall walls surrounding them. The area to their backside was blocked by another slice of hedge, but they were not looking that way. They were looking at Rainbow. They were looking at mom.

“No,” Rainbow whispered in the eerie silence. “That’s not fair. That’s not fair, Discord!”

Both of her multi-colored fillies shied away from her sudden outburst; both turned around to clamber towards the wall that blocked them. Only now that wall pulled in on itself, revealing more and more slim passage of path.

“Wait! No!” she called, before lowering her voice. “I’m sorry. Mommy’s sorry. Just stay there… just stay—”

But her two children had already dropped their winded wriggle in favor of something more accustom to them. As if on the same mind they both fluttered from the earth, for a tiny moment holding hooves before parting. Gracefully they flew. They flew like mom and dad.

“No! Please, no!”

Rainbow galloped forward, unseeing of the grass she trampled underhoof. Her eyes were fixed at the steadily rising set of fillies ahead of her—soaring higher and higher, cutting further and further into the maze.

“Stop! Please wait!”

When Rainbow had nearly caught up with them she leapt into the air on nerve-wracked legs. The tip of one hoof scraped the backside of her daughter, but there was nothing to grab hold of. Both of her children disappeared from view a few seconds later, as they hovered across another hedge and away.

“But…” she croaked, falling back to the ground. “But… you can’t…”

A newly created gap in the wall formed itself a few feet behind her. She had not noticed. She honestly couldn’t have cared.

“Hi, Rainbow.”

Soarin stood behind her. When some of her anguish had finally dissipated she had carefully pondered who might end up appearing next. It only made sense it would be him.

“I think we should talk,” Soarin said. “I think it might be important.”

“I’m fine right here…whatever you are,” she said, as her red-rimmed eyes once again checked the air for a meek glimpse of her kids.

“No, I think it’s a little too important for that.”

A pair of hooves tugged at her forelegs, forcing her up. From there they led her through the newly made space in the wall, where a large, bright field lay ahead. The gloom from the rest of the maze had been cast aside. What were in view now were the sun and the trees and the softly blowing wind. She knew it had no place inside Canterlot’s maze. Still, she let herself get carried inward.

“You need to stop crying, Rainbow,” the Soarin thing told her. It placed her in the middle of the field, close to the shade of a large standing elm. She sat and didn’t move from her spot—also didn’t meet the face of her husband (or what was supposed to pass for it). Although the few glimpses she happened to take informed her they had left nothing amiss.

“You can save your breath, Discord,” she said dismally. “You can’t make me feel any worse than I do. Job well done, sir. Now just leave me alone while I finish your stupid game.”

The Soarin thing knelt down beside her with large gorgeous eyes. “I’m not here to make you feel bad, Rainbow. I would never do that. Your husband would never let that happen.”

Rainbow mumbled, “Too bad you’re not my husband…”

“That doesn’t matter,” Soarin said, with a smile that was all his own. “What matters is what he offers you, Rainbow. Discord doesn’t like to see you in his game. He had not counted on it. You have not done anything to him—he does not want to see you hurt, unless absolutely necessary.”

With venom she read his face. “Tell that to Fluttershy, then,” she growled. “Tell that to my busted wing.”

Soarin was undisturbed. “Discord has many regrets, as I’m sure you’d believe. But now he’s trying to rectify them all, starting with you.” He sat on the grass next to her, took her hoof without asking. “You love to fly more than anything else. Everyone in Equestria knows that. So why should some accident cause that to change?” He peered to her bandaged wing. “Discord can take away as he pleases, but he can also give. He can be a generous creature.”

“So you’re going to give me a new wing? That’s the deal?” she huffed back.

“Why stop there?” Soarin countered. “My not two new wings? Why not better ones than ever before? You must have been envious of Twilight’s wings, right? Why not your own pair of the same? With just the snap of his fingers Discord can give you what you want.” He leaned in closer, pulling her single leg closer to him. “Imagine the sky again, Rainbow. Imagine flying with our kids. Imagine everything that’ll go back to the way it was.”

Rainbow couldn’t look at those bright eyes any longer, so she angled her head to the side. “And what would it take?” she questioned weakly.

“All you need to do is give up this game,” it told her. “You can return home, live with your family. Discord will forget you ever tried to impede in his progress.”

“And what about Twilight and Luna? What happens to them?”

“Why should you care?” it said more forcefully. “Besides in those brief moments when they thought they needed you, where have they been in your life? In your time of need they abandoned you. When you were injured beyond repair, where were they? Besides hiding from responsibilities.”

Rainbow shook her head. “They were…” she started. “Celestia had just died. Neither of them knew how to react…”

“That still doesn’t make it right.” The Soarin shape grabbed another leg and directed the mare to him. Now they were inches from each other. “Discord is offering you a new life—a way to start over. All you need to do is stop trying, Rainbow. Just give up this silly game. It’s so easy. Do it for me.”

So close to him—it or whatever—she couldn’t escape his glare, or the heat from his anxious breathing. She looked into her lover’s eyes and told it her answer.

Shining Armor led her through a lush field of trees and fresh grass, the sun overhead cutting out any darkness left from the murk of the maze.

After the image of her brother came into their childhood home to help pry her from the floor, Twilight at first reacted like the others. Shining Armor can’t be in the game, she told herself. But that still doesn’t make this not a part of it.

A moment of contemplation later she strolled alongside him, hopeful to distance herself from the darkness of her old home—the hills of ash she could have sworn used to be her parents. The radiant clearing was nice. The exact opposite of what she’d expected to find waiting for her in Discord’s game.

“I want to show you something,” Shining told her, as they trotted down a small mound of earth. “You’ve come at a very solemn time.”

Beyond the small hill was a procession already organized. A black casket had been placed in the overlong shade of a large elm; a number of thin white chairs had been set into tight rows in front.

“Granny Smith was old, Twilight,” Shining said as they entered the little scene. “And she passed away peacefully in her sleep. I think that’s the way most would want to go.”

Twilight viewed the perfectly still head of the Apple clan in her final resting place, before surveying the rest of the procession.

“I don’t understand,” she said cautiously. “Where is everyone? Where’s all of her family?”

“They’ll be coming, Twilight,” the Shining-image responded. “It’s all just a matter of time.”

Since he was still staring at the casket below, Twilight took another look. What she saw only made her shy away while she silently moaned.

The body of Granny Smith had been replaced with Applejack’s, an aged version that caused deep lines to outline her face while her hair became dry and brittle. In death she almost appeared tranquil, as if it were nothing more than sinking into a warm bath.

“I…” Twilight stammered, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to show me.”

As Shining began to speak again, the still body of each of her friends filled the casket, one after the next. All were old and all appeared completely undisturbed by the arrival of death. “It’s simple, Twilight,” the Shining-image said. “The passage of time will claim us all, as life intended. Everyone but you. Take comfort in the images you see. For this is all you’ll have to look forward to in your long, long life. Even I will join them in time.” The image of an aged Shining Armor now found its way into the box. “All but one, Twilight. All but one…”

At the tail end of the line of friends and family to enter the casket went the beaten and bloodied body of Twilight Sparkle. But this one had not aged a day. She had died, by what appeared to be in some horrible way. Yet besides her wounds she had not been changed by any such detail.

“That is the only fate you have left, Twilight,” Shining said coldly. “Age will never claim you—the simple notion of passing on in your sleep will never come to fruition. Your end will only arrive by some bloody means. Unless you make a choice today.”

Twilight backed away from the scene altogether, her breath labored and hard. Her head swam from the onslaught of carefully detailed images. The knees on all four legs told her to let go, but still she stood.

Shining walked over. “You can go back to normal, Twilight. Nothing is forever set in stone. All you need to do is give up this game.”

She turned to him with a well-worn expression. “Discord already said he had nothing to do with my immortality. Even if he wanted to, it’s something he can’t remove.”

The image of her brother only came closer. “And what if he had been lying about it? Discord has been known to perform a great and many things. He is older than you could possibly imagine, and has the knowledge to prove it. Why should the idea of removing your immortality be something beyond his reach? How many more do you want to lose in the course of your life?”

She shook her head, barely a movement. “My friends are still counting on me. I will not be the one to doom them to your horrors.”

“Discord will not harm them, Twilight,” he reassured. “Discord only wants to rule in peace. If you give up this game, he will remove your immortality, and let you and Rainbow Dash return to Equestria, where you will give up this foolhardy quest once and for all.”

“And what of Luna?”

“Luna may not be convinced of Discord’s good nature as most. She may need to go… away for a time, to think things through.”

And just how clear it all came to be. “Luna doesn’t deserve that. I’ll stick by her side through this.”

“Even when she didn’t stick by yours?” he sneered—a bit of her brother edging away from the image. “She left you, Twilight. She left everyone in their time of need. And now she only wants to hurt everyone again—show them exactly how we found such peace from such anguish. Why would a ruler ever want to be so cruel?” The Shining before her calmed down. “You accept his gift; you leave the game; and Luna will not be harmed. She will just be put away. When has she ever truly been a friend to you, Twilight? You actually want to spend the rest of your immortal years with her? Princess of the Night? Princess of the cold shoulder?” He paused to give his next statement weight. “Normality awaits you, Twilight. All you need to do is give up.”

As the eyes of her brother first changed from light-blue to orange and then to red and yellow, Twilight thought about his offer. It didn’t take her long.

As Luna held her head down to ponder all that had been said, the Celestia-shape sidled to her and wrapped a wing around the mare. Tenderly, it curled up into the nape of her neck, trying desperately to lend her warmth. “Please Luna,” it cooed. “Let us be free for the first time in our lives.”

With weary eyes Luna peered at her sister. Into its eyes she glimsed and held on—the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. She said softly, “I am sorry, Celestia. I am sorry for a lot of things. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been there to save you, like when you saved me from myself. I’m sorry I couldn’t have protected you in your time of need. But no matter how bad I may feel I know I cannot ask to bring you back.”

The shape unhooked its wing from the alicorn and retreated a small distance. All that happiness on that perfectly white face dissolved to a hard sheen. It viewed her with caution.

Luna continued, “I have learned that there are things much bigger than what I want, when there is all of Equestria to consider. More than anything I want you back, my sister… but not at the expense of leaving a monster to rule over our land. Discord must die today, no matter the sacrifice. I’ll always love you, Celestia, and your memory will never fade from this world. I will see to it.”

The Celestia shape stood tall and stared at her with distain. A single eye twitched and anything that might have convinced her earlier that she was somehow her sister, vanished from her mind.

It asked hastily, “You would turn your back on your own sister?”

“That is not what I am doing. Celestia would have wanted it this way.”

“You let her die once when you couldn’t save her. And now you’re going to do it again?”

“I have already given you your answer, Discord. Now end this charade.”

The shape backed away while it’s slowly dissolving face pulled off in two directions at once. It somehow wanted to bar its teeth at the Princess, and yet laugh at the same time. It made for a grotesque display.

The first things to change were its eyes.

“I am sorry, Soarin,” she told him. “But my flying days are over.”

The Soarin seated before her lost what little warmth it held in its features. She felt the pressure on both her hooves increase.

“There’s more to me than just my love of flight,” Rainbow continued, “and there’s more at stake here than just what I want. Ponies like me for who I am, and not just for the fact that I can fly. And that’s something that’ll never change.”

Soarin viewed her with narrowed eyes. “And that’ll keep you happy as every pegasus in Equestria looks down upon you? As every-single-one of them laughs behind your back?”

Rainbow shook her head. “They’re not the ones that matter to me. My friends and family are. I will not give up this game. I trust in Twilight and I trust in Luna just as much as they trust in me. I will not let them down… and you will not get the answer you want.”

The Soarin close enough to kiss let loose of her hooves and stood up abruptly, where he then gently strolled away. “If that is the way you will have it, my sweet…” he called back.

With rising attention, Rainbow watched as her husband flickered from the world. To her dismay, a creature of many limbs had been kept underneath it the whole time.

“Please Twilight,” her brother pleaded, as he placed his forehead to her own, “I don’t want to watch you suffer anymore.”

With more effort than it should have taken, Twilight pushed the Shining-image away, who immediately glared at her with mistrust.

She said, “I’m not suffering, Shining. I’m only have yet to figure out how to use this gift I’ve been given. I was chosen, and whether I like it or not, I need to live up to the task. All I know is that if I live through this night, I’ll still have each and every one of my friends for the rest of their days… and I’ll just have to make that enough. And I know as long as evil beings such as Discord continue to exist in this world that I’ll always need to be there to stop them. I will not give in, Discord. I will not return this gift.”

The Shining-image peered at her with derision. “You lie, Twilight Sparkle! You do not care for your friends in the slightest! You don’t even care for your own flesh and blood brother! How are they going to feel as they grow old while you simply live beyond them?”

Twilight let the image huff in rage. “I care about them more than you’d ever know, Discord. And that’s exactly why I would never accept your offer. Ponies like me will always be needed in Equestria, even if they might not want to be.”

“Oh you good little ponies,” Shining blurted out through clenched teeth. “You think you’re so smart and so clever!”

The Shining-image’s eyes fully changed to ones of red and yellow—the rest of its equine body jerkily snapping out from existence, leaving a cramped and compacted draconequus in its wake.

Discord stood erect again, using both hands to crack his thin neck. He moaned as he stretched. “Why couldn’t a single one of your close knit relations be something other than a stubby little pony?”

Twilight’s heart picked up and she angled her horn at him. “I’ve passed your test, Discord! Now tell me where the center of the maze is! Your game is almost up!”

Almost as if forgetting all about her completely, Discord spun around. “You’re interested in the center of the maze? Oh my daft dear, didn’t you know?”

Twilight braced herself as he brought his fingers to his face.

“You’ve all been there the whole time.”

He snapped his fingers.

Like some poorly executed school play the maze around her crumbled to the ground. A great number of tall and thin hedges dominoed one on top of the other, creating a continuous clacking sound in the air. The large elm that had been prominent in the last scene had suddenly been stripped of every leaf, leaving a type of brown skeleton behind. The golden sun that had filled every inch of that beautiful field vanished from the sky, letting in that bitter chill that filled every inch of the night.

The barren field at the center of the maze remained, but no longer was it the paradise Discord had shown them.

With that same level of misunderstanding, Twilight watched as Luna also took in the abrupt change to the scenery. She crossed over to her as Rainbow Dash did the same.

“You were here the whole time?” Twilight nearly shouted.

“Yes,” Luna answered, “but we three must have been invisible to the rest. Did some figure of your life offer you a gift in return for your departure from the game?”

The two mares nodded.

“And did any of you accept such terms?”

“Nadda.”

“No, Princess,” Twilight said.

Luna smiled. “Then I am glad. I know whatever he must have offered you must have been a priceless temptation… and the fact that you’ve both turned him down proves just how strong your friendship means.”

“Our friendship,” Twilight said, “you’ve always been our friend, Luna.”

Luna nodded at the compliment.

“Hey you guys! What’s going on?”

Carefully stepping over each fallen length of hedge, Applejack and company crossed the meters of debris to join the other three. In the gloom of the night Twilight could hardly see a single one of them; the only indication of their movements being the tear-shaped jewels swinging from their necks.

“We made it to the center of the maze,” Twilight told them. “We had all been tempted by Discord, but each of us turned him down in turn.”

Rarity said, “I knew you all would make the right decisions.” She glared at Rainbow Dash. “Even after making a horrible first one.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes.

“Oh, sorry to interrupt, friends!”

A loud voice from behind them.

“But here I thought we had a game to play!”

The eight of them turned to find the source of the voice.

In the direct center of the field waited the draconequus, arms crossed and with an expression not quite matching a sneer or a grin. Both pupils in both eyes contracted and expanded with no semblance between. Twilight had never seen them move as fast as then, or with such blazing fire from within.

He’s lost it, she thought distantly. He’s lost it all.

From that creature she wanted to run. Only she had come too far for any such notions.

She glanced at the ponies on either side of her, each holding that same expression of stubborn determination. That view alone was enough to steel her acidy stomach.

“You have lost, Discord,” she said thickly. “We have bested your game. All three of us have reached the maze’s center—even you labeled it as such. The walls are down and there are no more corners to hide your tricks. You have been defeated.”

“Have I now?” Discord placed a finger to his questioning mouth. “Let me see if you are right.” With an elastic neck he surveyed the entirety of his body, stopping every little while to poke or prod at a part. Eventually he returned his head back to his neck. “No, actually I think I’m doing just fine.”

Luna came forward. “We won your game, monster! Now leave Equestria for good. You deserve worse for all that you’ve done!”

“You’re right,” Discord said. “I do deserve worse. I deserve a proper end—a real defeat. You are not giving me that.”

“Hold your words, Discord!” Luna yelled. “You are only wasting your breath.”

“I don’t believe so. You say that you have ‘bested’ my game, but you have only bested a single one of them. I am always playing a game. I watch the pieces move and I make them dance as I please. Even myself.” He paused. “You have won my game and now you are asking me to leave. That will not due. Not this time. You need to defeat your villain. Not sweep him under the rug like some mound of dirt.”

“We have defeated you!”

“Not enough, Princess. Perhaps it’s a fault of my own. Perhaps I made it too easy for you. Maybe you lack proper incentive to finish your task. You have wished for my death for quite some time now, so why is it that you are not delivering on your promise?”

Twilight stared in mild horror as Luna turned to her. She wanted to find a calm face of understanding, but instead it only mirrored her own: unsure, uneasy, and unaware of how this was supposed to go. Discord’s game had been won. But now he wanted more.

Discord screamed at them, “Conquer your villain!”

All eight of them shuttered from the voice and held guard. Twilight’s mind swirled with a hundred notions at once, but sadly none equaled to much.

The draconequus said tiredly, “Have it your way.”

He raised a hand and from the corner of her eye Twilight watched as Applejack raised into the air. Before she could do much of anything she was hurled towards him, stopping only inches from his exasperated face. “This is what you get for not playing properly.”

“Wait!” Twilight screamed, little too late.

Discord propelled the poor mare into the dirt before kicking her with his hoofed appendage. The cowgirl grunted from the blow and went sailing into the air, her hat slowly tumbling down as she flew beyond it.

“No!” Twilight shot upward and grabbed her before she could get all that far. She wanted to consol her injured friend—check for any broken bones—but the sight on the ground already stalled her.

“This ends now!”

Before the dust had even settled following that sudden act of cruelty, Luna charged forward, held bent and horn leading the way. Every few gallops she shot out a narrow strip of energy that hurt the eyes to witness. Discord did not shy away from such power, instead choosing to shape his body around the blasts. A hole he created in his side; several holes along his chest and arms; he even made one of his eyes disappear as the piercing white light illuminated the inside of his skull.

Twilight had been expecting him to laugh all throughout Luna’s endeavors. Oddly, he only appeared bored and tired by them.

“Better,” he said calmly to the charging alicorn, “but still not enough.”

Patiently he waited until she got mere inches from him—until her long and sharp horn was almost close enough to slice away skin—before he roughly grabbed that same instrument of destruction and shoved it downward. In one swift motion Luna collapsed to the ground, emitting a dreadfully flat smack as she hit the hard-packed earth.

Twilight landed and gently set Applejack down. While she held her stomach and her face contorted in pain she already tried to stand.

“Leave her alone!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed in the distance.

While Twilight had been busily tending to her friend, her other companions ran ahead in a group.

Luna spat a wad of blood onto the dirt, before climbing back to her hooves. Before the rest of the group could swarm the beast, she glared up at him, only to find he was already looking down on her. “You better give me everything you have, Luna,” he said, “before I take it for myself.”

She had wanted to reply. Say something to instill some fear into the monster—or better yet some courage into her—but those words vanished once a great many bodies overran the draconequus.

Pinkie Pie wrapped herself around the back of his head, pulling at both eyelids. With two mighty thrusts, Rarity and Rainbow bucked at the back of both of his knees, causing him to kneel on the ground and cry out in pain. Although Luna would never admit it to anyone, she found it was a wonderful sound.

When Discord tried to wrap a hurried hand around the mare on his head, another voice claimed his attention.

“Get back!”

Already sucking in air, Spike stood tall before the towering creature. Spike must have been taller than five feet or more, but compared to Discord he would always appear a timid creature. The three ponies surrounding Discord leapt off at the last instant, before a wall of churning red and yellow coated him entirely.

The sudden bright fire compared to the gloom of the night made them all shield their eyes. For some time Spike heaved it out. What remained made Luna shudder away.

“Hehehehe…” Discord giggled lightly as the ponies stepped back.

Still on his knees, the draconequus held out both arms in a come-hither gesture. His flesh had been scorched and burned at nearly every spot on his body—even a few lacerations along his scalp gave way to perfectly white bone. Even as he giggled, did his wounds go about sealing themselves. Twenty seconds later a completely whole Discord knelt before them.

And I thought a Discord without laughter was the worst, Luna thought as she prepared herself for what was to come. Whatever tiny thread that held him to Equestria has snapped… and now it is us who must deal with what remains.

Discord came forward. “Have I not done enough for you? Have I not destroyed what little hope it is you have? What more must I take away?” His giggles dried while his face hardened. “Am I not a villain of worth to you ponies? End this. End this now!”

He held out another hand and this time Fluttershy was picked from the group. She squeaked as she rose from her hooves; Spike tried to hook a claw around her but the pull proved too strong.

“Fancy meeting you here again,” Discord muttered to the trembling mare as she hovered before him. “Sorry our last talk didn’t go exactly as planned, but I guess I was just a little busy at the time. Still friends?” He grinned.

Fluttershy could only stare at him with rising dismay, before another sight stole her attention. Several inches of dark-blue horn had miraculously shot out from his chest, right along where his heart should’ve been. From the dull shine of the moon, the blood cascading down its narrow form almost looked like slick tar.

In a thump Fluttershy landed on the dirt before Rainbow Dash pulled her away.

The glistening horn exited the draconequus and soundlessly he fell to his back. Luna deftly shook her head, knocking away some of the gore from her horn. She peered down at him, muted shock on his face.

“That hurt,” he said candidly.

“I’m glad,” she told him. “What you’ve done deserves more than anything I could do to you in this life. You’ve hurt countless ponies—you’ve gotten them killed while you reaped the rewards. I will only be satisfied once you close your eyes for good and fade from this land.”

“And yet you still don’t understand,” he said softly, through blood-stained teeth. “All your weapons and all your spells with never be enough to finish me for good. I am chaos. Ever moving; ever changing. You cannot send chaos away; you cannot slash it until it yields. It must be stopped for good. It must be held in place until it breaks apart.”

With added worry, Luna watched as the hole in his chest rapidly collected the blood surrounding it. After it cleaned the mess over the gash, the wound itself sealed up as if nothing had happened at all.

“You will understand, Luna,” he said, bringing a hand to his face. “I will make you understand how this story is supposed to end. You only need a little motivation.”

Before she could stomp a hoof down atop him, Discord snapped himself from the ground. Luna whirled around to check if he had teleported behind her, but a far worse situation came to light.

“Over here, Princess!”

At the edge of the clearing, and next to the wounded body of Applejack, stood Discord with a wriggling Twilight in his grasp. With two strong arms he held her horn and the bottom of her jaw, as the rest of her flayed about trying to knock the creature away.

Only Discord looked as hard as stone.

Already Luna was galloping over.

“I guess there was always one solution we never thought of, Twilight,” he snickered, “to cure you of your immortality. So simple, really.”

A brittle crack in the night as the alicorn’s neck snapped in his hands.

Chapter 24: The Game Part Three

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:

THE GAME PART THREE

Something warm and wet was falling from her eyes and Luna didn’t notice.

After Discord had turned the alicorn’s head in far too great a distance, he snapped himself away, letting the limp remains of Twilight Sparkle come crashing to the ground. Applejack was the first to reach her and turn her over, a leg still wrapped around her injured stomach. Even from that distance Luna could hear the mare’s incomprehensible moans. Already she was trying to shake her awake. Already she was crying beside her.

The dark alicorn had stopped the charge over and hadn’t even realized it. On numb legs she stumbled the rest of the way, a light airiness finding her thoughts—something she would relate to being in the world of dreams. If only she could fool herself into thinking this was just another one of them, only the very Princess of the night knew better.

“No! No, no, no, no.”

Rainbow Dash and the rest came to a sudden halt near the body. While most only peered at it with muted horror, Fluttershy turned away before openly weeping into Rarity’s outstretched legs. When the oddly still eyes of Twilight became too much to bare, Luna closed them with a hoof. At least now she wouldn’t need to view this horrible scene any longer.

“Maybe now you’ll understand.”

A voice from behind them.

“You all need to end this tonight.”

Luna didn’t want to face that monster anymore. She was tired. She only wanted to mourn for her friend. But if she didn’t try—if she didn’t continue to try—than that same fate would only come to greet them all.

On weak legs she stood and faced the draconequus. He did not look pleased with his work.

He said emotionlessly, “There is only one way this ends, Princess: death. As I have just shown you.”

Luna closed her heavy eyes, another tear escaping one. “Then we will continue until we reach that conclusion—until my very last breath, Discord.” And even though every fiber of her being told her this fight had been lost some time ago, Luna lunged forward with an anguished cry. When Discord would finish with her, then that would leave the other six to his mercy. She thought they should know before the end that someone still fought for them all.

Twilight heard the snapping of a branch and felt a sudden roar of pain. Then the world went dark.

While Discord held her in his hands he had closed off her ability to teleport, possibly while holding her horn as he had. But that had happened a long time ago, hadn’t it?

The blackened void changed to one of mesmerizing white, and when that darkness faded so did any doubts or fears left inside her. From that world of despair and sorrows she had been released. She had been granted an early death and now she was being shown just what laid ahead for her.

But it was white and nothing else.

“This can’t be it,” she said, finding she indeed still had a voice in that new place, as well as a body that could move and step on its perfectly white floors. “There must be more to this.”

“And there is Twilight Sparkle,” said a voice in the white. “There is so much more.”

Out of nothing at all came Princess Celestia, her hair continually blowing in a wind of its own creation. She appeared as she always had before—tall, pristine, with that small smirk that would lead one to ponder everything she told them.

Twilight didn’t waste any time with asking why. She only knew she missed her mentor.

“Oh, Princess,” she almost moaned into her side as she embraced the far taller alicorn. “I’ve missed you so much. Equestria hasn’t been the same at all… things are so bad right now.”

Twilight pulled away and peered up, a cold dawning clouding her judgment. “This is just another trick from Discord, isn’t it? I should have thought of that sooner.” She viewed the expanse of white. “Although it is a good one, at that.”

Celestia shook her head gently. “Not this time, Twilight. I may not be real in the physical sense, but it is truly I, nonetheless. Back in the real Equestria, Discord murdered you. That is why you and I are now able to converse.”

Twilight lowered her head to what she would need to think of as the floor. As much as it hurt to hear she couldn’t deny the validity of her words. She had heard a delicate snap and felt a pain in her neck. Then she had ended up here. It didn’t take an academic to fit the pieces in their place.

“What’ll happen to the others? To my friends?”

Celestia looked away. “If Discord cannot be stopped, then the same fate with likely befall each of them. He’s become bent upon his own destruction—perhaps because over time his very identity has been warped.”

“Then why can’t he just do it himself?” she pleaded. “Why does he have to drag everyone down with him?”

“Because a being of chaos would never make it so simple.” She sighed. “I believe Discord has two parts to himself. One that sees what he’s been doing as being too wrong even for himself, and will therefore try to lead him down a path of self-destruction. Another part of him must work on the very basics of natural survival.” She regarded her student. “Discord may want an end to it all, but he will not make it easy. If no one can destroy him for good, then he will continue on until someone does.”

“But we’ve done everything we could!” Twilight said. “We beat his game! We fought back when we were pushed! By now he should have died a dozen deaths!”

Celestia pressed a tender hoof to her shoulder. “But Discord is no ordinary creature. Only stone will stop him for good, just as it has before.”

Twilight disagreed. “But the Elements of Harmony are gone. Even the ones I had been researching for so long only turned out to be a ploy created by Discord. I don’t know of any other way, Princess.”

Celestia answered, “But I do.”

The fresh taste of blood found her again. As she grimaced from pain she rose to her hooves, and came to a jerky stance. With just the mere flick of his hand Discord had flung the poor Princess of the Moon several yards away and into the hard and sharp wall of a fallen hedge. By the time she regained her balance, the draconequus was already approaching.

“This game is getting boring, Luna,” he said indifferently. “Even you must be getting bored. So end it. End it now.”

Minutes prior she had yelled for the others to leave the fallen maze, escape if they could. Not a single one of them budged from where they stood—circling the motionless body of Twilight. Luna would happily take the wrath from Discord as long as it was directed at her. She knew he could have ended this long ago with the simple snap of his fingers, but for other reasons he wanted this to last. Grind them all into dust.

“Until my last breath, Discord.”

Still gasping for air she came to greet him.

Celestia began hurrying her words. The Princess of the Sun that had graced all of Equestria over a year ago was nowhere to be found. Twilight discovered she was talking to a different Celestia than before—one that desperately wanted to move forward and fast.

The white alicorn continued, “When you and your friends first engaged with Discord in the maze, he was able to turn each of you against the other. When his game succeeded, the Elements of Harmony were then returned to you. But what happened when you tried to use them against him?”

Twilight shook her head, not fully understanding. “They didn’t work. We started the spell but nothing happened at all.”

“And why do you think that happened, Twilight?”

“Because my friends were different ponies at the time; our friendship wasn’t strong enough. Discord had corrupted them.”

“Exactly.” Celestia smiled. “It was not the Elements that failed you that day, Twilight. It was your own lack of friendship throughout the six of you.”

“So how will this help them now? They still don’t have the Elements.”

“I have studied different forms of power for the duration of my life—the Elements of Harmony included. The necklaces and crown that you and your friends wore was nothing but a symbol of the connection between you all. It was an instrument to will your combined power through; it was not the Elements that saved you on that day, Twilight, but your friendship. Anything could become a new Element of Harmony, as long as that spark is there, as long as that friendship remains.”

For a fleeting moment Twilight remembered the tiny pockets of joy she had had while the six of them crowded around in her old castle. The tension had been more than high for an unprecedented amount of the time, but that couldn’t stop her friends from being who they’ve always been. She had loved them years ago and it only took a few hours to learn those same feelings had never changed, even as time had moved on. Even the incredibly grating fact that Rainbow Dash leapt into the maze when she was repeatedly told not to, still caused her to fathom just how much they all cared for one another. Even when defeat must have seemed assured, they had followed her willingly to the end.

Twilight smiled at Celestia, before a shadow crossed her face. “But they won’t know what to do, Princess. The five of them won’t be able to summon the Elements if they don’t know they can.”

“But you do, Twilight.”

“But I’m of no more use.”

Celestia shook her head. “There is much you do not know about alicorns, Twilight. You have died but that doesn’t mean you cannot go back. Several years ago I, too, perished battling an ancient enemy while Luna had been banished. When I passed on, I met an alicorn above even myself. It told me it had a gift to give me—a single gift of life. Each alicorn is only able to do so a single time once they have passed on.”

“So why didn’t you come back when you died at the Empire?” Twilight blurted. “Why didn’t you just give that gift to yourself?”

“It does not work that way, Twilight. It can only be given away, and only a single time. That is the gift I want to give you today, if you will take it.”

Twilight shut her eyes. The atmosphere of the place was beyond anything she could have imagined. Every sense she could interpret only seemed to want more of whatever that place was made of. It was bliss, plain and simple. And now she was being asked to return to a land of blood and death—of monsters and pain. The quick thought of her friends was all it took.

“I will take your gift, Princess,” she answered her. “My friends are still waiting for me.”

Celestia beamed at her warmly. “I am glad, my faithful student. But there is one last question I must ask, before I grant you this gift. And only know that because you are here is it possible.”

“What is it, Princess?”

Celestia paused. “It is whether or not you want to remain immortal, once you return.”

Rarity was ascending the creature’s back when he nimbly flicked her away with a single finger. She landed hard in the dirt, getting back to her hooves proving an ordeal.

Luna heard the approaching steps but could barely move her head to angle in his direction. He had knocked her from one end of that field to the other more times than she could remember. Again she had tried her magic on the beast, but he threw it aside as easy as confetti in the wind. She was reaching the end, she knew.

“You are disappointing me, Luna,” Discord called as he came closer. “I was expecting more. I was expecting more from a certain purple alicorn too, but beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.”

Picking her up by both forelegs, he held her beaten and bloodied body before him, almost as if admiring a painting that he had taken a shine to. With miserable eyes she glared at him—if he expected her to beg it was a wish he would never be granted.

“How… disappointing,” he said, sounding deflated himself.

For a few seconds Luna ignored her tormentor, rather choosing to focus on the still body of Twilight in the distance. Every one of her friends had joined in the fight some time ago, only to be hurriedly thrown from the battle. The only one that remained by her side had been Fluttershy, gently cradling one of her friend’s cold hooves in a pair of her own. The tears had dried sometime ago, and now the yellow mare only rocked where she sat. Luna could see her mouth moving but couldn’t hear a word. Was she singing a song to her fallen friend? The thought alone was enough to bring a smile to her face.

Discord caught her grin. “Why do you smile, Princess? Your victory should have come long ago.”

Luna forgot about the creature holding her in the air. Instead she watched as her lifeless ally first sat up before causing the pegasus holding her to scream. Luna didn’t waste anymore time.

With alert eyes she turned back to the draconequus. Then she spat a bloody wad onto his cheek.

It had been a gradual progression. Going from a sea of white to a sightless void of black and then finally to a murky gray. This last one she could recall vividly. It was that same overall feeling that had enveloped them all once her and her friends had entered the maze. And that could only mean one thing.

Twilight blinked in succession and was overwhelmed by every one of her senses betraying her in turn. Her sight was of pitch black sky. Both nostrils smelled of dried blood, as well did her mouth (only later would she realize how close she had come to nearly biting off her own tongue when she fell lifelessly to the ground). Next came her ability to hear, and it only brought her sounds of misery: heavy breathing, the cries of more than a few of her friends, and yet was someone singing? The last sense was that of pain, as bad as if a steel rod had been jammed through her neck. Overall it had been a stiff reawakening.

Still she sat up.

“Ow,” she mumbled, before she heard a quiet scream to her right.

A moment later a set of yellow legs wrapped around her sore side, squeezing relentlessly. What little air she had just by then sucked up escaped her like a punctured balloon.

“Oh Celestia you’re alive!” Fluttershy said incoherently, as her entire face enveloped her shoulder. “I thought you were gone and that there was nothing we could do oh please tell me you’re back oh please Twilight tell me your back and that you’re staying for good!”

Twilight absently rubbed a hoof along her friend’s mane. “It’s all right, Fluttershy. I’m back and I’m okay. Maybe another day I’ll explain how, but right now we need to deal with Discord.”

By that point more than a few of the others had made note of her return, so with tearstained eyes they approached her with widening amazement. When Pinkie Pie’s mouth nearly ran itself into the ground and she started forward for an embrace, Twilight stuck out a leg to keep her at bay. At the time she needed what little air she had.

“Twilight? What’s… how?” Rainbow began, before Twilight shushed her with a hoof.

“I don’t have time to explain right now,” she told them, a semi-circle already surrounding the mare, “but all I know is that we actually have a way of defeating Discord now.”

“Really?” Rarity asked. “But how? He’s done nothing but shrug off any attempt we’ve tried! He even killed you with his bare hands!”

“I know, Rarity. But that was when we had nothing to threaten him with. Without the Elements of Harmony, Discord’s near invincible with his magic. To even try and fight him tonight was foolish. Except now we have these!”

Twilight raised her purple tear-drop necklace—the shine of the moon extenuating it’s perfectly cut curves.

When she did, each of her friends looked at theirs in turn. Although most glances only came away with more apprehension than before.

“Beg pardon, dear?” Rarity exclaimed, as a slight twitch found one eye. “My last minute jewelry is about to save the day? I hadn’t realized I was under so much pressure.” She wheezed out a breath. “Or maybe your near death experience only gave you some weird ideas?”

Twilight shook her head. “No. This is it. But it’s not these necklaces that will destroy him—it’s what they represent. Friendship; a bond between us all. We were able to cast Discord to stone before because we harnessed our friendship through the Elements. Now we need to do the same, only through these.” She placed her necklace back down. “It’s not the tool that gives us that power; it’s only when our friendship is strong enough. And now it’s our only chance of ridding Equestria of that monster.”

A rough set of hooves pulled her attention away.

“That’s great and all, Twilight!” Rainbow Dash proclaimed, a little too close to her face. “But I don’t think this new Discord’s just gonna stand around as we blast him to stone! Before he was cocky! Now he’s…” She thought. “I don’t even want to finish that sentence.”

Twilight put her head down, before an idea came to mind.

“There still might be a way,” she said.

Discord was talking to her again, but she couldn’t make out more than a few single words. He was rambling—the same topic as he had been going on about all night. At least when he spoke he wasn’t busily tossing her around. She hoped maybe Twilight and the others had made their escape. Perhaps they could find another way to finish him for good. If Luna could tangle with the monster until they were far away from the scene, she would at least be happy with her night’s ordeals.

If she could save them for a time that would be enough.

“Discord!” Twilight yelled.

No. No, why would they stay?

“Your fight is not only with her! Aren’t you forgetting about the rest of us?”

Twilight, what are you doing? The opportunity was yours! Why did you waste it?

The hand that had been gripping her horn and suspending her in the air opened without warning, sending the mare back to the ground. On rocky legs she stood, before she watched Discord turn his back to her. He had found the rest of them. And Twilight was in front.

Her gut had already felt like a barren wasteland of toxic materials, but when the draconequus turned to face them all, a new contraption of completely rusted parts began to spin mercilessly right in the very center of her.

Discord’s original expression of boredom and something else—sadness?—melted away as he saw she was alive. A new glow entered both pulsating eyes, like the reaction of some small filly opening a rare gift. His mouth curved into a grin.

“You’re not playing fair, Twilight Sparkle,” he said with near glee. He started over to them, not at all in a hurry. “There are no do-over’s in this game! What other tricks have you been hiding all along?”

Twilight ignored the foreboding figure, instead looking in the direction behind him. “Luna! If you still can, I need you to hold Discord in place! If you can, then we still have a chance of turning him to stone!”

A faint echo followed each word. When too much time passed without a word in answer, a new chill encased the alicorn. From her view she could not see behind the creature. Something dark blue had been close to the ground, but had it moved at all?

Discord halted his march. “Oh this I must observe! How is it you expect to perform such a trick, Princess? I don’t recall some secret stash of Elements left over in the bushes? This I just must see!”

Twilight remained silent. She turned first to her left and then to her right. All five of her friends surrounded her, a hard sheen of determination on each. It would be now or never again.

She told them quietly, “We might have to try it regardless if he can move. We’ll only have the one chance at this.”

Each one of her friends hastily nodded. She could tell a lot more than simple fear was coursing behind each set of eyes. Twilight had never loved them as much as then.

“I’m waiting!” the draconequus bellowed. “What are you—”

But that’s when his words dried in his throat and a pained expression filled his long face.

The last time Luna used such a technique had been centuries ago, when her foe had been a beast that could lull a pony to sleep by the simple blink of its eyes. While Celestia had attacked from the side, Luna had held it in place from behind. For the technique to work she would only need to place five contact points along its body, as well as use a large amount of magic and concentration. But if a single point were to slip, the enemy was able to move again.

All four of Discord’s limbs were held rigid by the Princesses hooves, curled tight with each muscle like piano wire. Her horn had always been the last contact point. As long as it graced a portion of the opponent’s neck or head, it still completed the ritual. But because matters had descended as they had—and because she felt very little pity for the creature she was holding at bay—she rammed her horn several inches into the back of his neck. She hoped he could taste its sharp tip on the back of his tongue.

“Arraahhh!”

With muted rage the draconequus froze where he stood, every inch of his long and slender body thrumming with fury. But as long as she retained each contact, he could not move from that spot—or move a single muscle if he wanted to.

“All you ponies are the same,” he irked out. “You all cheat.”

Instead of answering, Luna twisted the horn lodged in the back of his neck. A thin trickle of blood was already stinging one eye.

Already she could feel the tall creature trying to shake her loose. With what little strength she had left, she latched on tighter.

“Luna’s got him pinned! We have to do this now!”

Twilight hurriedly glanced at each friend. They all collectively nodded before they gathered in a circle.

“How do we… exactly do this again?” Applejack asked for the group. “It’s been awhile, and last time we actually had the Elements.”

“Just close your eyes and think of what we’ve all shared together,” Twilight said. “The past, the present, and whatever the future holds. It should be enough.”

Before Twilight shut her own eyes she found the worried faces of them all. She, too, couldn’t help but feel the same. Yet it all came down to that moment.

Only a few seconds later did she discover a warm pulse race across her chest.

As Twilight as her friends shut their eyes and the necklaces around their necks began to glow an eerie white, the draconequus she was wrapped around steadily ramped up his struggles to shake the Princess away.

A single hoof of hers almost came close to departing from his arm. Any moment now and she would break the fragile contact she held.

“You have not earned this world of my creation, Luna,” Discord said through barred teeth, still staring in the direction of the slowly ascending ponies.

“No,” Luna answered, with what little air remained to her. “Not yet. But in time I will.”

“After I am gone, my lie will only destroy what little sanity you still hold. Once Equestria knows the truth, chaos will cover all regardless of what you do.”

Luna drove her horn deeper, eliciting a choked moan from him. “Don’t believe you are the only one that can create lies that better this world, Discord. I will do what is necessary. Not because it is what I want, but because it is what my sister would have wanted for everyone. For her I will do this.”

“If you even get the chance!” he snarled.

The vibration of his body intensified and one of his arms jumped a few inches. Each one of Luna’s hooves felt as though an unseen force was trying to pull them away. But soon it would be over—soon this whole nightmare could come to a—

The Princess of the Night screamed like she never had before. Her right foreleg fell away from the arm of the beast and instantly a bone inside broke in two. Despite the pain she forced it back onto him and Discord only continued his motionless assault.

“Bit by bit, Luna,” he told her. “Bit by bloody bit.”

Luna closed her own eyes and thought of Twilight and her friends. Any moment now they would cast the creature to stone. It was up to her to hold him while they did. They were relying on her. All of Equestria was.

Discord shouted for them all to hear. “If you turn me to stone, you better break every last bit of me! I swear if you don’t, then I will find a way back and I will never stop until I suck the very last breath from your lungs!”

Vibrating along with the creature, Luna whispered into his ear, “You can’t count on it, you monster. I would have it no other way.”

Even through shut eyes Luna found a blinding white begging for her attention. She opened them, only to find the oddly dark back of Discord filling her view, as the rest of her vision was nothing but a wash of pulsating brightness.

The last thing Discord whispered was, “Chaos needs order,” before the laughter began.

Many a times had Luna heard the gentle chuckle of the draconequus as something interesting would nevertheless catch his fancy. That was not what she heard that night. Every giggle and every snicker and snort came out forced and exclaimed as loud as he could. Near the very end of it all, his laughter almost descended into a scream. The draconequus had no idea what was funny at all anymore.

Only as the wall of white reached its peak, did Discord cease his shrieks.

The thrumming object Luna had latched onto solidified entirely. With a grunt she removed her horn from its body and collapsed to the ground. She had never felt as tired as then.

As she heard the galloping of hooves, she closed her eyes and passed out.

Twilight had feared the worst when she came upon the still body of Luna. A few timid breaths later slated her worry. She retreated from her and regarded the large statue that had newly been created. Although the blinding white light had enveloped much of the area, she still had a sense of what Discord’s last image should have looked like, especially given the wails of his last laugh. But finally glimpsing him for the last time, Twilight was taken back by what she saw.

The tall creature almost looked scared—scared and unsure and virtually confused. If Twilight had not known of every heinous act that he had done—and all he was still planning on doing—she might have even pitied him. But not then. Not ever from that day.

Rainbow Dash approached her. “What do we do now, Twilight? You heard what he said. He said if we left him in there, he’d find a way back! You think that’s true?”

Twilight shook her head. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true. He needs to be destroyed for good. I don’t care if the chance of return is possible or not.” She thought. “I will do it. I only need time to think of a—”

“No,” a weary voice conjectured. “I will see that it is done.”

Twilight turned to find Luna awkwardly trying to stand straight. One of her legs had been unmistakably broken, so she limped ahead. Two of the mares helped her along.

“Are you sure, Princess? We can wait; I’m sure we have time.”

“I am positive, Twilight,” she answered bluntly. “I will only rest once this is done.”

Her two friends led her to the front of the statue. Luna closed her eyes and a small spark lit the tip of her horn. A small ball of purple energy shot from it, disappearing into the center of the solidified creature. Like falling sand did the statue crumble from within—the fine dust already blowing away in the breeze.

As much as she thought she might, Luna didn’t even look pleased by the action.

“So what happens now?” Rarity asked the rest. “How can anyone explain what happened to Discord?”

“I will tell them,” Luna said. “I will return to Canterlot—where I should have been all along—and I will tell them that love befell the draconequus.”

“You’re… you’re going to lie?” Twilight asked, a little off guard.

“I’m going to keep a lie going, Twilight,” she said arduously. “Discord’s lie might have been made from the blood and suffering of others but what it created cannot be shied away from. Another lie will let it continue.” She paused. “If the rest of Equestria believed in Celestia and Discord’s love as much as they claim to, then they could also be led to believe that Discord did not want to continue on without her. Maybe he left this world; maybe he did something else entirely. I will leave tales to weave themselves.” She turned to Twilight. “The only thing remaining is the charges against you. While I do not know at this moment what can be done about them, I believe in time we will be able to dispel such hearsay, while keeping a peaceful Equestria intact. But that means you must remain hidden until that is possible—and even that outcome I cannot guarantee for certain.”

Twilight lowered her head. “It is something I’m willing to do, Princess. It never should have been just about what I wanted in life. If it betters Equestria as a whole, then I’ll do what is necessary.” She viewed the collective group. “And if I know that you’ll all always be by my side, I think that’ll be enough.”

The others not keeping the Princess upright hurriedly embraced her before pulling away.

Twilight said to Luna, “I think the sun should be rising soon. Have you ever tried to move it before?”

“Once,” she answered reluctantly. “It wasn’t the smoothest of rotations, but I managed. I will see that it is done, Twilight. I will make good on my sister’s memory. I will do what she would have wanted, and not what I believe she would have.”

The group steadily made their way to the fallen entrance of the maze, most moving slowly and painfully from the battle. Twilight assisted Luna along, while the others trotted ahead.

“Luna, while I was gone I was given a choice,” she told her, “whether or not I wanted to keep my immortality.”

Luna was wise not to ask the other hundred questions she might have had. “And what did you decide?”

Twilight sighed. “I kept it. It was a gift, and soon I think I’ll understand it with more clarity. And who’s to say Discord was the last worry to be found in Equestria? In a hundred years time you and I will still be needed to stop whatever comes. As long as I have my friends for the here and now it should be enough.”

“I am proud of you, Twilight,” Luna said. “And although I don’t believe the memories of tonight will ever be cleansed from our minds, I am happy you chose to remain by my side. As a friend.”

Luna bowed her head and focused her horn.

A few minutes later the tip of the horizon filled with the golden shine of the sun.

EPILOGUE

“I still think we’re wasting our time, dear. We were already expected in the castle a few minutes ago.”

Rarity glanced around hurriedly, roughly toying with the curls in her mane.

Fluttershy approached the tall statue awkwardly, stopping to grind a hoof into the dirt of the Canterlot gardens.

“But…” she started weakly. “But doesn’t he look so sad like that? Don’t you just feel bad for him?”

Rarity said quickly, “Not really.”

“But he already looks like he’s sorry!”

“He looks the same as he did last month, Fluttershy. To my knowledge, statues don’t move all that much.”

“You think…” Fluttershy regarded her friend warily. “You think the Princesses would let him out for a little bit? Like just for some tea and sandwiches? I’m sure he’d be on his best behavior.”

“And then what would happen? Would that lead to a single sleepover and then a weekend away from his stony home? Fluttershy just listen to yourself, I mean—”

Rarity could tell she was making her friend upset. She stopped to wrap a leg around her.

“We can’t just forget what happened with Tirek and him. If we hadn’t have found a solution at the last minute two months ago, what would have happened to us? What would have happened to all of Equestria?” She sighed. “I know he’s your friend and all but he almost got everyone enslaved because he thought it sounded like fun. We can’t trust Discord. We never could and we were being silly to consider him our friend. Maybe in a thousand years a new batch of ponies can give it a try, but I truly don’t want to see him move ever again. I’m sorry, Fluttershy, but that’s just the way I feel about it.”

Fluttershy appeared downcast, then she pulled away to glare up at the stone draconequus again.

“What do you think he’s thinking about in there?” she asked, deflated. “I bet it’s about how sorry he is.”

“I guarantee you it’s something completely different,” Rarity huffed, pulling at her friend’s leg to lead her away. “Probably just another scheme to try and take over Equestria. Well, Discord can dream all he wants!”

Without another word the pair trotted towards the castle, where all their other friends must have been patiently waiting. A lone bird landed on Discord’s motionless shoulder and uttered a single call.

He heard that as well.

THE END

Author's Notes:

LAST AUTHOR’S NOTE

Greetings, patient reader. Since you’ve allowed me to pull your ear for close to four hundred pages now, perhaps you’ll allow me to pull it a bit more. There’s just a few things I’d like to touch upon, maybe before some heated comments make themselves known.

There are three “somes” I’d like to mention. 1. Some words of explanation. 2. Some words of thanks. 3. Some story trivia that probably only me, myself, and I will find interesting.

1. First, let’s start with those elephants in the room. Namely, that Epilogue that concluded everything.

While this isn’t my first writing project, it is still the only thing I’ve ever sent out into the world for anyone to read. Older works have been read by friends and family, and their collective conclusion of my stuff has been that it’s “fine” or “good.” They say this because they’re supposed to say this. They are sadly a biased group (at least they are to me).

Why I make mention of this is because this story has awkwardly shown me just how thin my spine can become, simply from my own reasoning. When the story was still in its early stages and only eight chapters had been released, a good number of people told me how much they enjoyed my interpretation of Sombra. So since I knew he was to be killed off in a few chapters to help forward the story, I thought about doing the only sensible thing: I thought about changing my story. I thought about keeping him alive for the second half, or somehow bringing him back. It would have completely derailed whatever thoughts I had going into the rest of the piece, but it was actually a pretty large notion.

The second time this occurred was near the very end, when a few people commented how they’d like Discord to triumph overall. Sadly that had never been the idea. And from there I sadly then started to think of a different way to conclude everything. And I actually thought of one—one that I didn’t even mind. The game in the maze would have ended just as it had, but then their fight in the field would have led Discord in one way or another into finishing everyone off. The last scene would have then been of Discord on his throne, still in the wonderful world of his creation, all the while curious of just when he’d start to ruin it all over again. In other words, he would have created a hell for himself—one that he both wanted to keep and yet destroy, because the motionlessness of the job had no place controlling such a spirit of chaos.

I don’t even hate that ending. I think if this story had been a far shorter one, and more Discord oriented, it would have worked. The only problem was there were a lot more characters to this story. All throughout we’ve been following three threads of narrative. The good: Twilight, Luna, Celestia. The bad: Discord, Sombra. And the miscellaneous: Rainbow and friends. If I chose to go with this ending, then two of the threads would have ended (on what I believe) on a seriously flat note, making for one very hollow conclusion.

Perhaps I made my protagonists a little too grim. I only did this so they’d fit better with the overall tone of the story, but maybe I went too far. I still have much to learn when it comes to characters and storytelling.

The only reason I make mention of all this is because the Epilogue was another of those things I desperately thought about changing. In no regard did I pull this out of my far-reaching bum in the last minute to try and add some new twist. I had around sixty-percent of this story outlined before I wrote a word and that had always been included. Even in the third chapter did I make mention of its possibility, as Discord describes what it feels like to be trapped in stone.

And to me this ending still makes the most sense. When my sister and I were watching the season four finale with Tirek, we both got to the end and curiously deliberated whether anyone would ever trust Discord again. He had so nearly handed the entire world to a power hungry monster, and he did so just from a brief conversation. And yet all it took to be friends again was a few sorry words and some flowers. I still love the show. And I understand why they went that way (they would never get rid of an awesome character like Discord—come on now), but that’s still the realistic version I took away from it.

The other item of interest I’d like to talk about is with my interpretation of the Elements of Harmony. I turned them from a “real” weapon into more of a collective thought or power. I did this for a few reasons. Firstly, I don’t think it would have been all that interesting if I flat out gave them the Elements before the end. If I did that, then you would’ve seen the ending coming a mile away. Yes, I could have written a chapter about the main six going and getting them back from the Tree of Harmony, but again, I believe that would have proven anti-climactic.

Also, in this case, I would like to think the “why” they used them was more important than “how” they used them. Along with Luna and Twilight, even Discord wanted to meet his end—no matter how difficult he might have made it.

And if some are still sore that Discord didn’t beat them all in the end, I honestly don’t believe anyone truly “won” this time around. Discord has been permanently destroyed. Twilight will not be able to face the rest of the world until they can find a way around Discord’s lies. And now Luna is tasked with looking after all of Equestria by herself, all while Discord’s horrid history lives on. It’s not the sunniest of skies.

2. Now some thanks. I’d like to first thank my sister for showing me my first (ever) fanfiction (of anything). It was a story called “Bride of Discord” by DisneyFanatic2364, and it was pretty darn good. Afterwards, my sister asked why I didn’t write my own fanfiction, to which I replied, “That would be silly.” Well, now here I sit, over a hundred-thousand words later.

Next I’d like to thank everyone that’s commented or liked or simply read up until this point. Considering my older work has been read by a total of three other people, I’d honestly consider this all a success if that same number reached this last chapter. Everyone on this site is just another fan of storytelling, so I thank you for chugging along from the bottom of my heart, when there are literally thousands of other stories to chose from to occupy your time. (And especially since some of my subject matter might not prove to be the most child-friendly of varieties.) And yes, I’d even like to thank that one sadomasochist on another site who told me how much he laughed out loud when I pushed Fluttershy out a window with no wings. (I’m sorry, friend, but that wasn’t supposed to be funny.)

3. Now some random trivia that helps me sleep better at night. (And also because I simply love behinds-the-scenes material of any sort.)

1. As Sombra indicated during her conversation with Rainbow in the clouds, he does not refer to anyone “beneath” him by name. Except for Celestia, he does not call a single character by their real name in the entire story.
2. What Sombra then tells Rainbow about how stories can become larger than facts foreshadows what Discord will later do with his “victory by love”.
3. In the chapter “A Timid Talk,” when Rarity is asked if she could teleport a pair, she tells them she could perhaps “move two inches to the left.” Later, when Twilight tries to teleport inside the castle, she moves exactly “two inches to the left.”
4. The number on the classroom door inside the maze that Rainbow finds is the same page number from her Daring-Do book she can’t seem to read past.
5. As Discord transcends further into villainy, his actions become more and more Sombra like. He burns down a building with ponies inside; he drops two injured foe from a great height; and he even starts to enjoy ponies calling him by a title of his choosing.
6. The whole reason I had a small scene with Trixie and her free meal show was solely because I was once in Vegas and saw an advertisement for Louis Anderson performing at the Excalibur. Right next to his smiling mug was a giant T-bone steak that came with the show. At the time I thought it was one of the saddest and yet hilarious things I’d seen.
7. In the first chapter Sombra dreams of finishing Celestia with his teeth. That’s exactly what he does at the Empire.
8. Either no one caught my completely unnecessary Flash Sentry jab in “From the Brink” or no one commented on it. (Don’t bother looking; it’s really not worth it.)
9. My favorite chapters? 4-5: The ones with Sombra at the bar. I thought it was an interesting way to set up our first villain. 14: The Beautiful Lie. I thought it had a nice theme running through and I’ve always liked the idea of setting up possible characters that could potentially appear in the second half, only to show them the door soon after. 17: The Bitter Tale of Sure Shot. I’ll probably be the only one, but I like chapters that almost work like short stories, and yet continue the big picture regardless. Plus, given the fact that I didn’t make a single mention of Shining out in the cold I thought was kinda’ wonderfully mean.
10. Least favorite chapters? The first two. I think from those two chapters the writing style changed a lot and perhaps it wasn’t the greatest way to entice perspective readers. But it is what it is.
11. Favorite scene? The last conversation between Discord and Celestia. It was one of the first scenes I had in mind before starting this project and when we finally got there it felt pretty big. It still does.
12. Oh yes, almost forgot. Fluttershy should just stop having cucumber sandwiches with Discord. It never ends well.

I’ll shut up now. Thanks for reading.