> A Knight To Remember
>  by kudzuhaiku
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t every day that a brave, noble knight approached the castle of an evil vizard, but approach Nuance did, with his heart lodged in his throat and an uncomfortable squirmy sensation in his guts that made him want to run home to his mother. Said evil vizard kept a beautiful young maiden captive, because that is what evil vizards did, you see, and Nuance hoped to somehow secure her release. If not her release, then perhaps he could at least say hello before the vizard could release his volcanic vexation.

The tower beyond the gate ahead was a dark, foreboding place, menacing beyond description, and a dreadful prison filled with unspeakable horrors—some of which his beautiful maiden dared to call pets. Nuance feared that he might never fully understand Quiet Dark and her gruesome, morbid fascinations, but remaining in a constant state of mystified awe made everything about her so much more exciting.

A lone bushwoolie could be seen tending to the gardens of deadly nightshade, hemlock, and toxicoscordion venenosum. Nuance reminded himself to be on his best manners with the bushwoolies, and that he couldn’t boss them around, or play pranks on them, or pull their hair, because that would make the vizard’s hippogriff monster quite angry. Making Quiet’s mother angry was the last thing he wanted to do, because Blackbird was big enough to gobble him down in one bite, and she also made fantastic pies—pies fit for royalty, which Nuance was.

Upon Nuance’s approach, the bushwoolie vanished, darting through the utterly terrifying front door. What was so scary about it? Nuance wasn’t sure, but looking at the door filled him with dread, perhaps because of the vizard that lived beyond said door. A weird smell was in the air, something not pleasant, and Nuance wondered what sort of evil alchemy the vizard might be doing. Or maybe, just maybe, Blackbird had one of those sorts of pies again, the kind best left unspoken about.

The soldiers around Nuance halted, forming a protecting formation, and with his guts slithering like slippery serpents, the young colt continued ahead, alone on his solitary quest of confrontation with the most evil and most horrible of all vizards. He was known by many names, many titles, each more terrible than the last. The ponies of Fancy called him Dim le Destructeur. In Germaney, he was Bote der Feurigen Zerstörung und des Brennenden Todes. By the dragons and much of Equestria as well, he was simply known as Kommissar Dim, Ember’s Chosen. His daughter, Quiet, called him Daddy, Papa, or Vater, depending on her mood.

With no warning whatsoever, Nuance’s mouth went dry and he came to halt while trying to work up a little spit. Like a kettledrum, his heart pounded within his barrel, and all of his frogs were sweaty. Like nothing else in the whole wide world, Dim scared him, because the wily vizard saw right through him. Dim held no respect for position, for class, or caste, or anything else for that matter. The Kommissar judged all by their own merits, and Nuance, who had been a prat for a little too long, now had Dim’s dreadful ire. In the worst judgment of all, Quiet had been forbidden from seeing him, and Nuance knew why.

Giving himself a good shake, the steadfast colt reminded himself that he was a noble knight here to deal with a dreadful, tyrannical wizard. He attempted to stick his courage to the sticking place, but his courage, perhaps wiser than him, fled the scene with all haste. For a few seconds that stretched into a small, self-contained eternity, Nuance almost widdled himself and he wished that his sister Corbie was here to comfort him, though he would protest and deny such a need.

Before he could collect himself, the door was flung open and, horror of horrors, the vizard himself appeared in the doorway, looking dour, smoking a pipe, and glaring. Oh, how he glared, making all of Nuance’s innards almost liquify and go shooting out of his back end. Dim, in all of his terrific, tyrannical glory, stood in the doorway. Nuance tried to say something, some kind of formal greeting, but all that came out was a squeak.

The noble knight had faltered in his quest.

“Begone!” the vizard snapped, his words punctuated with curls of smoke.

“I’ve come to see Quiet—”

“Quiet is confined to quarters until such a time that you leave the Crystal Empire! Now begone, brat!” Then, without further ado, Dim slammed the door shut with a thunderous bang that echoed through the walled garden.

“I’m not leaving until I see Quiet!” Nuance shouted and he hoped that Dim could hear him. “If I have to, I’ll live in your garden! See if I don’t!”

There was no reply, no indicator that he had been heard. Would he really live here in the garden? Would he actually lay siege to Dim’s tower? He might. His parents had sent him here to the Crystal Empire to get him out of Canterlot for a while, for a change of scenery, and the vizard’s garden of toxic terrors was nothing like Canterlot, not at all. Just a few yards away, a giant sap trap grabber was suffocating a struggling songbird. Nuance watched it with wide, fearful eyes, and hoped that none of the foliage had a taste for unicorn colts.

So, it was to be a siege, then. Sighing, Nuance sat down upon the flagstone walkway and tried not to think about how dirty it was. The dreadful smell was growing worse and he wondered what sort of vile alchemical concoction was brewing. With his nose crinkling in disgust, Nuance committed himself to his courtly action, and if necessary, he would even brave the dark, dreadful night, though he hoped that it would not come to that.

“Hiya, Nooncy!”

Tilting his head back, the colt looked up and saw a familiar face peeking out of a narrow window—his maiden, his princess, his special somepony, she was beaming down at him with her terrifyingly, terrifically toothy bear trap smile. There were a million things he wanted to say to her, a thousand songs, whole books of poems, his mind raced as he tried to think of just the right thing to say to his one true love, his lady fair.

“What’s that smell?” Even as he said it, Nuance facehoofed.

“Oyster stew,” Quiet replied, her teeth glinting in the sun with an odd, almost metallic sheen. “Doesn’t it smell super-duper good?”

“No.” Nuance shook his head and regretted his reply.

“You’re so silly, Nooncy!” After a moment she added, “Uh oh! Buh-bye, Nooncy!”

With that, his beautiful princess was gone, and poor Nuance was left all alone in the garden, to reflect upon all of the things he might have done differently had he the chance to do so. A better opener, perhaps, not asking about the dreadful smell. Maybe telling Quiet that she was pretty and that he wanted to brush her mane. If only he was more like his father, who always seemed to know just what to say, or what to do. Gosling was a well-loved pony and Nuance… well, Nuance knew that he was not so well-loved as his father—but he was trying to change.





Sitting on the hard ground was a miserable experience for Nuance, who was used to sitting on the very best, the very softest of things. The soldiers gave him plenty of space, so much so that he almost felt alone. They all stood in silence, like statues, and not a one had said so much as a single word to him. His mother, Celestia, had given them orders not to interfere, and Nuance was a bit upset about that, but there was nothing he could do. Even if the guard could interfere, it would not go well for them, and ordering them to make Dim comply would only end in disaster.

No, this was something that he had to do for himself, somehow. His other mother, Luna, she had been the one to tell him to confront the vizard, and then do what was necessary. What was necessary? Nuance wasn’t sure, but his mother had promised him that when the time was right, he would know. Rather than pitch a fit and demand that she do something to fix this mess, he had accepted her words with silent grace.

But he was pretty upset about that though. All of that good behaviour, all of that doing the right thing, all of that painful acceptance, and not one word of praise from his mother, Luna. She had said nothing to commend him for being good, she offered no recognition, and deep inside of him he was irked because of her transgressions, her slight, her complete and utter failure to do her job as his mother.

He deserved better.

The door opened and a dark, foreboding shape seemed to materialise within it. ‘Twasn’t Dim, Nuance realised with no small amount of relief, but Blackbird. Shiny, sleek, black, she was a terror just like Dim, but for different reasons. Sitting on the flagstone walkway, he looked up at her and did his best to appear miserable.

“Can I see Quiet?” he asked.

“No, Nuance, I’m sorry. Dim has forbid it.”

Blackbird’s voice made his ears prick, but the rest of Nuance sagged, crestfallen. “Can I maybe speak to Dim?”

Shaking her head from side to side, Blackbird replied, “No, Dim is asleep. He’s taking a nap with Quiet, which is why I am here talking to you. Nuance, you should go. Dim is still angry with you, like, unbelievably angry with you, and that’s not going to change any time soon. You crossed a line, Nuance.”

The sudden tightness in his chest prevented him from saying anything, and he sat there looking up at Blackbird in silence. His reign as the Prat Prince had consequences, and he wasn’t sure where to even begin so that he might fix them. If only he could talk to Quiet somehow, she would tell him what to do, how to fix this, how to make this better, but Quiet and her advice was out of his reach. When the feeling that everything was just too impossible became too much to bear, the all too familiar sting of tears in his eyes overwhelmed him, and his barrel began to hitch and shudder.

Demanding to speak to Dim would only make things worse.

“Maybe you should try talking to Cadance. That seems to help other ponies in similar situations. Or maybe Shining Armor could give you some advice. He’s a father with two daughters. Maybe he can think of a way to appease Dim that won’t involve rivers of blood and fiery burnination.”

Sniffling, Nuance nodded, but he had no intention of budging and he was determined to wait this out, somehow. For once in his life, he was going to follow through with something, even if it meant risking a vizard’s ire. Quiet was worth that, so he felt, so he settled in for what was sure to be a long sit.

“Be nice to the bushwoolies,” Blackbird said as she began to close the door, “Or else it won’t be Dim that you need to worry about.” Just as she finished speaking, the door thumped shut and once more, Nuance was left alone in the ghastly garden.





A procession marched through the same gate that he had entered but a few hours ago and Nuance let out a resigned sigh. Flurry Heart and Skyla had arrived, no doubt so they could torment him. Quite a number of guards were present now, milling about the gate, and Flurry pushed past them with her little sister in tow. About a year or so ago, Skyla had given him a good thrashing and seeing her now made him recall every painful blow.

“Wow, you look miserable. I thought I’d’ve enjoyed seeing it more—”

“Skyla!”

Giving her big sister a sidelong glance, Skyla continued, “Why are you even here, Nuance?”

“Skyla, you promised that you’d be civil,” Flurry snapped as she tried to slap her sister, but her smaller sibling sidestepped the slow, clumsy assault.

“Leave her be,” Nuance said as he cast his gaze down upon the ground and watched as a beetle went trundling by. “I deserve this. Everypony hates me.”

“Everypony except for Quiet.” Skyla approached while keeping a wary eye on her big sister. “Quiet is a real weirdo though. She likes gross things, like slugs, cobwebs, and mutant spiders. For the life of me, I don’t understand what she sees in you.”

“Skyla, you big dummy, Quiet probably sees the same thing in Nuance that her mother sees in her father.”

“Shut up!”

“No, you shut up!”

“When I look at you I throw up!”

Flurry stuck out her tongue and blew a vulgar raspberry at her little sister.

“At least I didn’t ruin last year’s Crystal Cotillion. Nyah!”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Nuance bit down upon his lip and wished that the sisters would just shut up. If only Corbie was here to make him feel better—but alas, she wasn’t. His eyes burned and he squeezed his eyelids together even harder in a vain effort to try and hold everything in, because he didn’t want to cry in front of Skyla again.

Feeling the tickle of feathers beneath his chin, Nuance tried to jerk his head away but found that he couldn’t. His head was lifted, even though he fought against it, and Flurry was no doubt trying to be bossy again, because that’s just what Flurry did. Sure, he might be a prat, but Flurry was a bossy bully that told everypony around her what to do.

When Nuance opened his eyes, he did not see Flurry though, but Skyla’s bespectacled face. In shock, he blinked a few times, his vision fuzzing over, and had to struggle to bring her back into focus. Her wing might have well been stone, for it was so unyielding and solid. Tears spilled down his sodden cheeks and his embarrassment burned him from within.

“My best friend is miserable right now,” Skyla said in a low, flinty voice. “She’s been miserable since you were told to stay away and that she was no longer allowed to speak with you. Quiet told me that you are trying to turn over a new leaf. Is this true?”

“I—”

“Yes or no.”

“Yes. I’m trying, but nopony seems to want to give me a chance.”

Down deep within her throat, Flurry grunted, but nothing was said.

“You and Flurry have something in common then.” In a birdlike manner, Skyla’s head cocked off to one side to look over at her sister, and her nostrils flared broad and wide. “Flurry totally failed at being a princess and she ruined the Crystal Cotillion. It blew up in her face. It’s still blowing up in her face. It’ll keep blowing up in her face for quite some time, I think—”

“Shut up, Skyla!” Flurry whined.

“But she deserves a fair chance to make things right, and you do too, even if you are a scummy little slimeball that wets the bed—”

“Skyla! Rude! Totally uncalled for!”

“Two-face!” Skyla’s lip quivered with anger as she confronted her sister. “The entire way over here you kept making all kinds of cracks about him being a bedwetter. I believe you said, ‘The Bedwetting Prince of Potty Puddles.’ Was that it, or do you want to correct me?”

Biting her lip, Flurry gave her younger sister a murderous stare, but she also backed away. Nuance, who had heard all of this before, let out a sigh. It still stung, it was as painful as ever, and it seemed as though these words, this ridicule was going to haunt him right to his grave.

“I don’t like you, Nuance, but Quiet is my best friend, and this is tearing her apart. So now that the air has been cleared and everypony knows where we all stand, the three of us need to figure out some way to fix this.” While she spoke, Skyla narrowed her eyes at her sister and her ears tilted aggressively in Flurry’s direction.

“Why the three of us?” Flurry demanded. “Why do you feel the need to fix this, Skyla?”

“Because, you fluffy pink idiot,” Skyla replied in the snarkiest of deadpans, “we’re going to be in charge some day. All of us. Nuance too. And if we can’t figure out how to put our differences aside and work together now, all of Equestria is doomed, you mental midget. Do you want Equestria to be doomed?”

“No!” Flurry rolled her eyes while shuffling about on her hooves. “Okay, fine, I see your point. Too bad you can’t see yourself in the bathroom mirror to brush your teeth without a stool, short stuff.”

“One day, when I rule, short jokes will be outlawed. Mark my words!”

“If drool was rule, your pillow would control the universe—”

“Gah! Both of you! Just shut up!” Lifting both of his front hooves, Nuance squeezed his eyes shut and clutched his head. “Shut up!”

“See,” Skyla said in a matter-of-fact way, “this is how you get doom. If we keep this up, there’ll be windigos in our future. Do you want windigos? Because I don’t want windigos. Now, can we make a truce so that we can work together and prevent the imminent windigo invasion?”

“Sure, I guess.” Flurry shrugged with her wings, and then stood there, just glaring at her sister.

“I would be grateful for your help, thank you.” Opening his eyes, Nuance let go of his head and put his front hooves back down upon the ground. “So, is there a plan?”

Taking a moment to adjust her spectacles, Skyla nodded. “We lure Dim out and then we try to get him to listen to reason.”

Rolling her eyes in a way that only a big sister could, Flurry let out a snort and said, “We should just invite the windigos now and get it over with!”
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

And now, the valiant young knight in the company of his erstwhile antagonists—now his companions—the Squabbling Sisters. The Sisters of Squabble? Did names or titles really even matter? His former rivals were now his accomplices in dealing with the evil, heartless vizard, the terrible tyrant that kept his special somepony prisoner, held under lock and key. What dreadful tortures had he committed upon her?

Looking up, he hoped to see Quiet looking out her window, but it seemed that luck was not with him. Meanwhile, the two sisters maintained a wary, reluctant truce with one another, but Nuance was certain that it would not last. Flurry and Skyla were as bad as he and Radiance—Radiance, who was quite unwilling to move forward, though his savage violence had been quelled. Ever since Pebble had bopped them all on the noggin, the aggressiveness of his brother Radiance had been curbed.

Pebble popping a knot on his head was perhaps the best thing to have ever happened to Nuance, and he wished that his brother would come around as he had. For a time, it seemed like he had, but then Radiance slipped back into being bossy, commanding, and bullyish—though without the violence. Not only had Pebble cracked Nuance on his crown, she had also taken a blow to her own head, and now she understood. Was Pebble his friend? Nuance wasn’t sure, but she was his foalsitter on occasion, and he liked her, and he trusted her, and there was great comfort in knowing that when he spoke to her, she understood.

Though he would never come right out and say it, he rather liked Pebble.

With a turn of his head, Nuance looked at the two sisters and it occurred to him that, they too, probably needed a good bonk on the head with the perspective shift stick, and if they were lucky, Pebble would crack them on their skulls, because Pebble was just that kind of special friend. Watching them, he wondered what Corbie was doing, if she was happy, and if she was having fun in Ponyville. He hoped so, he hoped that she was having fun, because right now, he wasn’t having fun at all.

There was an evil vizard to deal with.

A few yards away, the birdbath spontaneously combusted, almost setting a bird on fire. Somewhat singed, the songbird flew away, its tail smouldering, and the flames gained both shape, substance, and form. A tiny unicorn formed within the flames, standing in the shallow water, which somehow burned—it was something that shouldn’t be possible and seeing it alarmed poor Nuance. With each hiss, pop, and sizzle, the colts ears twitched.

“Have you girls been fighting?” the flaming unicorn asked in an all too familiar voice.

“No!” Skyla squeaked in response.

“No!” Flurry cried, echoing her younger sibling.

“You should never lie to your teacher.” The tiny flaming unicorn in the birdbath stomped his flaming hoof, which somehow made the water splash and his burning body made angry crackles. “Why are you here? You have no lessons for today. I have purposefully cleared my schedule, knowing of the Prat Prince’s arrival.”

“We came to help.” Flurry cringed, perhaps fearing fiery retribution, and wrapping her smaller sibling in her wings, she did her best to shield Skyla.

“YOU WHAT?!” Dim’s voice was now like a roaring furnace and Nuance was entranced by the magic he was witnessing. Steam rose from the birdbath as the water began to roil around the flaming unicorn’s hooves. “I shall have to alter my lesson plans! No amount of wheedling will appease my wrath! I will entomb you with books and endless study! I am going to enrich your lives and you will beg me for my mercy!”

“Oh boy, we’ve stepped in it now, Flurry.”

“Yeah, Skyla, I’m pretty sure that we’re doomed.”

Fearing for his companions, Nuance offered himself up to Dim with the hopes that he might save them. “Um, may I please speak to Quiet? Might I see her—”

“NO!” The tiny flaming unicorn spat out this word with a gout of white-hot flame.

“Can we talk?” Nuance asked, wondering if the terrible vizard would set him ablaze.

“What is there to talk about?” Dim responded through his blazing projection standing in the boiling birdbath, and now there was a dangerous calm to his words that scared Nuance to no end. “Quiet is very dear to me. She is most precious. I do not want her sullied by your mere presence, you befouled puddle of slug leavings.”

“I… I deserve that, I think—”

“All that and more!”

“Yeah, maybe.” Sighing, Nuance slumped over, and he felt a soft touch as Flurry put a wing around his neck. When had she come closer? He had failed to notice. Skyla approached from the other side, and she too touched him, which made him feel squirmy. All of the rotten things he had done to the both of them—he didn’t deserve their comfort or their kindness.

“Can’t we at least talk about this?” Flurry asked as she shielded both Nuance and Skyla with her oversized wings.

“There is nothing to talk about,” the flaming image replied as it poofed out of existence.

“Well”—Skyla sucked in an enormous amount of air, preparing herself for her outburst—“Poop!”

Nonplussed, Nuance sat still, blinking, trying to make sense of the situation, trying to understand why the two sisters were being nice to him, and there was also the matter that he was still pretty wowed by the impressive display of fiery magery. Dim had progressed to a level of pyromantic mastery where he now made new spells just to show off, and Nuance, who had very little magic, was envious.

Nothing it seemed, could be done about the vizard.





How much time had passed? Hard to tell. It felt like whole days had stretched before him and the sun had since changed its position from when he had first arrived. Something within his guts gnawed away at him, and little Nuance was not a foal used to any sort of deprivation. Lightheaded, weak, weary, no doubt he would soon die in the evil vizard’s garden, and then there would be a reckoning when his parents came demanding answers for his neglect.

If they came at all.

Miserable, sulky, Nuance wished that his mind didn’t think that way. Of course they would come, or so he tried to convince himself. When something was wrong, it didn’t matter how rotten he had been, or how bratty he might have acted, his father would always come running. Sometimes, his mothers chided him for it—because both of them knew that he liked to play with his father’s emotions. Something he had tried to do less of, as of late.

There were times that Nuance truly hated his father, his simple goodness, his willingness to forgive, and there were times that his wacky goofiness was just too much to bear. But there were also times like right now, where Nuance wished that his father was here. Much had been said to his father, hurtful things, awful things, tribalist things… caught in a moment of sincere regret, Nuance wished that he could take it all back.

Sighing, he realised that his hunger and his sulkiness was getting to him.

Turning to Flurry and Skyla—who were both poking one another with relentless aggression—he asked of them, “Do you think Dim is evil?”

Flurry halted, mid-poke, and then turned to stare at Nuance as if there was a big, juicy green booger hanging from his nose. Skyla too, she halted what she was doing, her hoof still resting on her sister’s neck, and she glared at Nuance with quizzical befuddlement. At this moment, as time seemed to stand still, both sisters shared a certain sameness about them, looking alike, reacting alike, both expressing indignant outrage in way that only alicorns could.

“You idiot!” Skyla cried as she recoiled in disgust. “That has to be the dumbest question ever asked.”

Hanging his head, Nuance knew that he had brought this on himself and as Flurry puffed up with anger, he braced himself, knowing that retribution was coming, swift and certain. When the sisters got done, he might not have ears left. He had this coming, and his question—asked mere moments ago—was already on the list of things he wished he hadn’t said.

“You utter moron…” Flurry shook her head from side to side, her nostrils flaring, and her eyes twinkled with dangerous intensity. “Do you really think that if Dim were actually evil, that he’d be allowed here in the Crystal Empire? Near the Crystal Heart? Do you think that he’d be allowed to be our teacher? Do you believe that my mother and father, being who and what they are, would have anything to do with him?. Ugh, ponies say that I’m dense and I need to engage my brain more. As stupid as I am, even I know this.”

“All of Equestria exists within a walled garden of ideology. Celestia does far too much to protect her ponies from the reality of the world, and she has made them soft. Dim has gone beyond the garden wall and has seen the truth of things.”

Sinister Dark! Nuance had only met her once before—briefly—not long after her return from Tartarus. Hundreds of years ago, she had been his mother’s most prized pupil, and Seville described her as the Twilight Sparkle of her era. When he turned to look, he saw her, and both Flurry and Skyla went rushing over to greet her. She was young, she looked young, but there was something about her that was ancient, and she moved like an old mare, limping on her front left hoof. Sinister had been born with clubfoot, an affliction that was now easily fixed with modern medicine.

The only thing scarier than Dim Dark was Sinister Dark, by a magnitude.

With an intense expression upon her face, Sinister swept the two sisters aside, stepped past them, and then Nuance found himself lifted in a whirlwind of unbelievable power. Through the air he flew with gut-wrenching speed, and then he found himself snoot to snoot with Sinister Dark. Her eyes—like Dim’s—were mismatched, one was icy pink, the other a dull orangish-amber. No warmth could be seen in her features, no emotion, she was terrifying… and alien.

To say that Tartarus changed a pony was an understatement.

“Back in my day, a colt such as yourself would have been taken out into the stables and whipped until you came to your senses.” With these words spoken by Sinister, every square inch of Nuance’s skin squirmed as though it was trying to crawl off of his body and escape. “I never agreed with such practices… I felt that it only taught cruelty and callousness. I am glad to live in an era where the barbaric practices of the disgusting primitives are slowly being purged.”

Not knowing what else to do, Nuance nodded.

“Good and evil are, for the most part, irrelevant. The common pony is incapable of great good or great evil. They exist, sheltered by the nobility, those most capable of taking such a weighty burden upon their backs. As for you…” Sinister came to a dramatic pause and she stared into Nuance’s eyes, studying him, reading him, it seemed as though she was examining his very soul.

“You are unfit to bear such burden. You are a disgusting primitive through and through.”

At these words, Nuance let out a gasp of relief and went limp.

“This is why Dim doesn’t want you associating with Quiet. He is raising her to be better. She will bear the burden of knowing good and evil. In time, she will be a slave to duty. Having her associate with a wastrel such as yourself would only be a detriment.”

“H-h-how do I stop being a disgusting primitive?” Nuance asked as Sinister’s eyes continued to bore holes through his soul.

Sinister’s long, curved, pointy ears pricked, her eyes narrowed, and demented laughter poured from her lips like a flood. Nuance endured, his skin crawling, still trying to escape, and he concentrated on holding his bladder, because she was just that scary. Too late, Nuance understood why Celestia had chosen Sinister Dark as her personal student all those centuries ago and every desire to be a bad colt fled from him. Her laughter laid his soul bare and he considered with all due seriousness just how petty, how contrite, and just how awful he was.

He was a disgusting primitive, and he knew it.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, Sinister’s laughter ceased, and she was serious again. “So, you wish to rise above your vulgar nature, do you? Very well then, I shall begin for you a lesson, Nuance, son of Celestia. Pay attention, for I shall only go over this once, just as your mother once did for me.”

In response, because she seemed to be waiting for one, Nuance nodded.

“You and Dim have much in common, Nuance. Perhaps too much. Think and reflect upon your own nature, think about how prideful you are. Both you and Dim have far too much pride for your own good. With your careless words, you have pricked Dim’s pride. Think of how you respond when your pride is pricked, and what you expect from others. In doing this, if you are sincere, you will understand Dim’s motives, and that the both of you can be appeased in much the same way. It is called empathy, Nuance, and you have strained the connection between you and Dim to the point that neither of you can feel anything for the other. At least, nothing good. Should you reflect upon this in a sincere and heartfelt way, you will know what to do. When you take that first real step towards self-betterment, Dim will rush to aid you, provided that you do right.”

Bewildered, baffled, Nuance had no idea what to think, but he did try to think about everything that Sinister had just said. He was prideful, and his worst misbehaviour happened when he felt offended, or slighted, or cheated of something that was rightfully his. Or, at least something he felt was rightfully his.

While he was almost lost in thought, Sinister put him down on the ground, waited for him to recover his balance, and then let go of him. Where had he gone wrong, exactly? What had he done to offend Dim? What hadn’t he done to offend Dim? Sitting down, he settled on his haunches while raising his right front hoof, and he began to rub his tiny, fuzzy chin.

“Bend your proud neck, little one,” Sinister said to Nuance in a cold, austere voice that seemed to echo within his very soul. “You are a unicorn with hardly any magic. You are vulgar, crude, grating, and disliked. You are given to tribalist slurs spoken in the heat of anger. If you keep this up, you will have nothing, you will be nothing, and your life will be a vessel of emptiness. It is not too late. Develop charm and wit. Listen to your Master, Blueblood, and pay more attention to the lessons he tries to teach you.”

His neck burning with shame, Nuance looked up at Sinister and said, “I didn’t know it was an act.”

Lips pressed together in a tight, unyielding pucker, Sinister said nothing.

“I thought that Blueblood was the greatest unicorn ever, and I wanted to be like him. I didn’t know it was all an act. I was…”—the colt gulped, trying to swallow the hard lump in his throat—“I was stupid. I tried to be like Blueblood, and being Celestia’s son, I tried to be better than Blueblood, and I made everypony hate me.”

“Blueblood exists to fool the inept, mindless morons and the doltish simpletons with clever words and fanciful ruses.” Sinister’s words burned into Nuance’s ears and he flinched. “His purpose is to draw hateful ire away from the rest of the Royal Family. Like a jester, he is a pompous fool in the open, hated, reviled, loathed by the public, and also like a jester, he is also one of the most trusted, most wise confidants available. An ear that always listens, an honest, straightforward voice that Celestia can trust for criticism. He is the Royal Jack.”

“I wish I had known that before I made a fool of myself,” Nuance muttered.

“It isn’t too late.” Sinister raised her left hoof—with surgical scars still visible—and she rested it upon Nuance’s withers. “If you want Quiet Dark, and I think that you do, she is not some prize that you can claim by right of your birth. She is not a concession that can be claimed by your command. If you wish to be with her, you are going to have earn it, and you will have to treat this as a privilege, not something you feel that you are owed.”

Thinking of Quiet Dark made Nuance feel even more ashamed. His tribalist nonsense must have sounded so awful to her, and she had still tried to be his friend, long before he was ready to have friends. Their first meeting was too far back in the past for him, it was just too long ago, but there was one distinct memory of sitting beneath a table together, in the darkened space created by the voluminous folds of the tablecloth. He had gone there to hide, because he wasn’t supposed to be there.

There, in his secluded hideaway, he had been gobbling down his ill-gotten gains when Quiet had showed up and joined him. Oh, how she had smiled at him, with her big, triangle-shaped teeth. She had stolen one of his treats from him, and before he could chastise her for her sordid crimes, she had begun purring, a most peculiar sound. Of course, distracted as he was, he had utterly failed to explain to her that his treats were his, and as such, were off limits.

When he looked up to say something to Sinister, she was gone, leaving him all alone in the company of the Squabbling Sisters. Somehow, she had vanished without a sound, without the usual pop or crackle that accompanied unicorn winking. There was a distinct possibility that she was never real to begin with, and the more Nuance thought about it, the more it made sense, because the Darks were never seen outside in the sun without protective eyewear, except for Quiet, who didn’t seem quite as bothered by it.

Such power… Nuance still craved it, but it was unobtainable, and life just wasn’t fair.
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long afternoon lost to the doldrums, the shadows grew long, the sun crept closer to the horizon, and the day began to suggest that it was ending. Nuance’s stomach was plagued with ceaseless growling now, and he was certain that he was going to die at any moment. With night coming, he was terrified, and he gave quite a bit of consideration on giving up, which would mean going home with Skyla and Flurry with his tail tucked between his legs in defeat.

Never in his life had he stuck with something for so long, and he was thoroughly impressed by his own actions in some strange, unknown-but-satisfying way. Under most circumstances, he would boast about any little thing he did, anything he accomplished, but this—this was meaningful. He was suffering for his friendship with Quiet, which was real and held deep meaning for him.

It was also something that his father would approve of, something his father would be proud of, because his father was a romantic goofball—something that Nuance held intense loathing for up to this point, but now gave serious consideration about asking his father for advice. As Blueblood’s apprentice, he could ask his Master for advice, but that might get weird, because he had heard some strange things about Blueblood and Raven.

Why would ponies spank one another?

He hadn’t been Blueblood’s apprentice for very long, but the lessons had begun, though not magical ones. Nuance had been charged with taking accountability for his own actions and making amends for his monstrous behaviour. To this end, the colt thought long and hard about what Sinister had said about how he and Dim had pride in common. Nuance was baffled—what could he possibly have in common with Dim?

“Guards!” Flurry barked in a voice of indisputable command, and not at all like a brat wanting to get her way. “It was fun to suffer for a cause, for a while, but night is coming. We are in need of food and shelter if we are to wait out the night. Go fetch a tent and maybe a few cushions so we can at least be somewhat comfortable. Also, go get a pizza. Nuance, what do you like on your pizza?”

Nopony had ever asked what Nuance liked on his pizza, not even once, and he gave Flurry a blank stare. Radiance would only eat cheese pizza and would throw fits if anything else was served, so Nuance, Corbie, and Radiance had always shared a cheese pizza among themselves. Nuance wasn’t even sure what he liked on a pizza and was totally mystified on how to respond.

“You scared him, Flurry—”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. Look at him. He’s lost to us.”

“Nuance?” Flurry waved her wing to get his attention.

How had this become so complicated? His mouth opened, but try as he might, the words did not come. How could he even explain what was going on? Would they ridicule him? The anxiety grew more and more overbearing with each passing second, and the pressure was already unbearable. There was a click as his teeth clacked together when his mouth snapped shut. The shame of trying to explain what was going on was far too overwhelming.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Nuance, but he probably needs to eat something,” Flurry said, taking charge of the situation. “I know he likes tropical fruit, so get a Tropical Fruity Pirate’s Booty Pizza for him. For me, I want a custom pie with spinach, mushrooms, roasted garlic, and stinky feta cheese. Skyla?”

“Apple Slapple Pizza, same as always!”

“Blech, apples and applesauce on pizza!” Flurry rocked on her hooves while a powerful shudder of disgust overtook her body. “Gross!”

“Flurry, you big pink dummy, how is it any different than an apple pie with a slice of cheese melted over it, just the way you like it?”

“It just is!” Flurry shook her wing at her sister, rolled her eyes, and then endured more shudders of revulsion.

In silence, Nuance tried to recover from his anxiety. The decision had been made for him, and that was no small amount of relief. Though he would never admit to it, never say it, he was always relieved when his parents made a difficult choice for him, even though sometimes he hated the outcome. Sometimes, Luna was far too prying and would keep trying to get an answer out of him, which infuriated him and caused him terrible fits of temper.

Two guards took wing and flapped away, off to do Flurry’s bidding.





With his stomach growling, Nuance watched as a few of the unicorn guards erected a tent on a small patch of lush green grass that was located near the corner of the rear and side walls. The sight of a pile of cushions and a few folded blankets filled Nuance with unspeakable dread. What if he had an accident? With Flurry and Skyla around, it would pretty much be the worst thing ever. It would be better to give himself over to the vizard and beg for his own destruction.

Up on top of the tower, Blackbird could be seen, perched like some grotesque gargoyle. What she was doing up there was unknown, but it didn’t look like she was watching him, because all that he could see of her was her back. Perhaps she was watching as the sun fled over the horizon, chased by the terrible all-consuming dark. Like his sister, Corbie, Nuance was afraid of the dark, and he was worried about how he would survive the night.

The tiny pond over in the other corner along the rear wall was filled with croaking frogs—hideous, gross, disgusting, slimy things that left Nuance feeling repulsed. Quiet loved them, but she also sometimes ate them, much to his horror. Watching her slurp up a slimy, twitching, kicking leg had left quite an impression on him. A firefly flew too close to his nose and Nuance took a clumsy swipe at it with his hoof. Why wouldn’t nature respect his space? Ugh.

Turning to face the two sisters, Nuance asked of them, “Am I stupid?”

Both turned their bewildered eyes upon him and there was much blinking for a time. Flurry seemed to recover first and she gave Skyla a sidelong glance, but her younger sister seemed incapable of volunteering an answer. Now almost panicked, Skyla prodded her big sister with her hoof, but Flurry just shrugged.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Skyla began, saying each word with a great deal of hesitation, “Flurry is pretty stupid too. I mean, she picks fights with poop monsters and ice orcs and Uncle Seville keeps saying that Flurry and Twilight should become tag-team wrestlers together.”

At this, Flurry snorted, rolled her eyes, and still had enough angst left over to let out a huff.

“I suppose this is diplomacy?” Rather than be annoyed, insulted, or offended, Nuance struggled to keep his feelings in check.

Squirming, Skyla shrugged, nodded, shook her head from side to side, nodded, and shrugged once more. “Maybe? You look so miserable right now that I feel bad saying anything.”

“Yeah,” Flurry said, coming to her sister’s aid. “You look pathetic!”

Wincing, Nuance turned away and tried to look at something—anything—but the two sisters. The croaking of the frogs was far from soothing, or maybe he was already aggravated and just looking for a reason to be angry. Maybe it would be better if he gave up on Quiet. With him out of the way, she would be free to go off and do great things, wonderful things, marvellous things. Disheartened, the colt let heave a sigh and upon his long exhalation, he appeared to deflate a good bit.

“Oh look! Pizza’s here!” Skyla cried as she went prancing off.





When Nuance lifted up the cardboard lid of his pizza box, he was slapped in the face by the most delicious smelling steam and it was all he could do not to drool. The pizza was littered with dozens upon dozens of tiny minced pieces of dried, dehydrated tropical fruit and blobs of pale white cheese. So intense was the sight, the smell, the colourful, cheerful appeal of his meal, Nuance forgot his troubles and a broad smile stretched wide across his muzzle.

It did not go unnoticed, but he did not see the sisters exchange a glance with one another.

This pizza was his, all his, and he wouldn’t have to fight with Radiance and Corbie and their animalistic appetites. His siblings were monsters, terrible, dreadful monsters that between the two of them, could scarf and gobble an entire half of a pizza before he had even eaten one slice—and this was just one of the many things he hated about them.

So happy and so relaxed was he that the most peculiar thing happened: his magic—which had always been a bit wonky—allowed him to lift up a slice of pizza. It might not have seemed like much, but to Nuance, it was a miracle. Even though his horn sparked and fizzled, Nuance managed to hold on to his slice of pizza and he began to blow on it, something that his reckless siblings never did, only to moan and weep about the consequences after the fact.

Spreading her wings wide, the black terror on the roof took flight.

Nuance took a cautious nibble on the tip of his pizza and then almost dropped it when the taste of the fruit and cheese spread over his tongue like a raging conflagration, a wildfire of flavour that threatened to consume him. He was tempted to throw caution to the wind and have himself a big reckless chomp, but Nuance chose wariness over potential injury.

“Yuck, Flurry… that’s a grown up’s thrown up pizza.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Flurry nodded, and with her mouth full, she added, “I’m getting grown up’s thrown up tastes.”

“I want to be a grown up, but sometimes the food is gross,” Skyla said as she gave voice to one of her many laments. Then, very much like Nuance, she gave her pizza a dainty nibble worthy of a princess.

“My father still eats like a foal.” Nuance licked his lips and was quite surprised to find himself engaging in conversation over a meal. Most of the time, he was quiet, because Corbie was a chatterbox that just wouldn’t shut up, so he never got a word in edgewise. For a moment, Nuance was lost in thought, thinking of the times that his father had smuggled him into the kitchens for a treat or a snack—usually when Nuance’s mood had bottomed out. Much to his surprise, Nuance found that he missed his father right now, and this was just plain weird.

“Hey, Flurry, do you remember when you and Uncle Gosling snuck off and the two of you ate an entire gallon of bubblegum ice cream and—”

“UGH!” Flurry grunted, somehow expressing herself around a mouthful of doughy, chewy bread, spinach, mushrooms, and stinky cheese.

“—when Mom asked you if you knew anything about the missing ice cream, you threw up all over her?”

For a moment, Nuance feared he might choke on his pizza and he tried not to breathe, because doing so would mean being overcome with laughter. He chewed on the rubbery bits of dried fruit and could feel a hitching in his barrel that had nothing to do with crying. When he finally swallowed, he made a strange ‘urk!’ sound, and then the laughter escaped.

“She got Mom right in the face, too.” Mocking her mother’s voice, Skyla continued, “Now Flurry, don’t you lie to me… do you know what happened to all of the ice cream that was supposed to be served with—BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGLEBARGLE!” Ignoring Flurry’s frozen ire, Skyla laughed, not fearing her sister’s frosty retribution in the slightest. “It had real bits of bubblegum in it too, and Mom had bald patches all over.”

It was too much, far too much, and Nuance choked on his own laughter. Perhaps the most surprising part of all was, he wasn’t laughing at somepony, he was laughing with somepony, and he was having a nice time. A wonderful time. He was having a wonderful nice time and a part of him hoped that this would never end, even as he was about to cough up his own duodenum.

A lost duodenum was a small price to pay.

“It’s too bad that Uncle Gosling isn’t here, because we could have all kinds of fun camping together.” Heaving a fillyish sigh, Skyla continued to nibble on her pizza with a bit more gusto now that it had cooled.

Turning his head, Nuance caught the sunset blazing over the top of the wall and felt a jolt of panic. Night was coming and he took a much needed moment to watch the setting sun, which had turned the sky pretty much every good colour that could be found in a box of crayons. Purples, blues, reds, golds, pinks, yellows, oranges, it was all there, smeared across the sky like one of Corbie’s hoof-paintings. His sister’s paintings left a lot to be desired, mostly because they were just smeary messes that she had to explain what they were, but they were pretty to look at.

Perhaps, maybe, when his sister was down in the dumps, he might say something nice.

The sun was in a hurry now, racing past the horizon. It was that weird time of evening when the sun seemed to speed up, perhaps because it knew the coming darkness was catching up. In the west, there was a vivid explosion of colour as the sun blessed the clouds with its final, parting rays.

Chewing on a long sliver of dried papaya, Nuance watched as the sun vanished beyond the edge of the wall.
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night was far from still and quiet. Each sound, each chirp, each stridulation, each hoot, everything that Nuance heard caused his ears to pivot about in a wild, random manner. Unlike Canterlot, it was actually dark here, though Nuance couldn’t be sure if magic was at play. An oil lantern offered a tiny island of light within the tent, but beyond the broad, open flaps of the entrance, there was only inky blackness and not even the gathered guard could be seen.

Flurry, who had chosen and embraced the night, seemed to be absolutely fine with the darkness, but for Skyla and Nuance—who, because of their fear, remained pressed tight against her sides—it was a whole different story. The moon had not yet risen, and Nuance couldn’t help but wonder if his mother, Luna, was perhaps playing a trick on him.

Just beyond the door, Nuance saw light reflecting in tiny eyes and he knew them to be spider eyes, because Pebble and Sumac had shown him the terrible, awful, horrifying truth, and that was that the night was filled with spiders. It was a truth so terrifying that Nuance almost didn’t want to exist in this world, with spiders, spiders everywhere. Even worse, both his mother, Luna, and his special somepony, Quiet, adored spiders, thus proving that life was both gross and unfair beyond reason.

“Both of you are great big babies,” Flurry said to Skyla and Nuance. “Dim’s tower has to be one of the safest places in the Crystal Empire. Remember the Great Siege of the Ice Orcs?”

Skyla nodded, and also whimpered. “But ponies were inside, and we’re outside.”

“The dark is scary because it represents the unknown.” Stretching out a wing, Flurry wrapped it around her sister and pulled her closer. Then, as an afterthought, she did the same for Nuance. “I have chosen the night, and embraced the unknown. When I stood before the Lunar Court and offered up my oath of service, I said to Luna, ‘For the last time, I feel terror.’ It was… it was… for me it was a powerful moment…” With a long exhale, her words trailed off and she gave the two smaller ponies she was holding a squeeze.

“But you’ve been scared since then,” Skyla whispered to her sister.

“I have.” Flurry nodded as Nuance looked up to see her face, so that he might understand her better. “But the fear no longer controls me and I choose to act against it. It’s a symbolic thing, I guess. I don’t know. I think about it a lot. Ponies can die from fear. So I might die from fear, or from danger, or any number of things, and maybe, that’s the point. When I act, when I respond, I should do so as if it was the last time that I might feel terror. At some point, it might be. I guess. I don’t know. This is the lesson, I guess, thinking about the oath.”

“Maybe it doesn’t mean anything and you’re just supposed to think about it.”

“Maybe, Skyla.”

“Mother Luna gives me things to think about.” The chill in the air and Flurry’s delightful warmth caused him to snuggle closer to her without even thinking about it. “Most of the time, I ignore her, but sometimes, she tells me something that I can’t stop thinking about.”

“You know, Nuance, and please, don’t take this the wrong way,” Skyla began as she peered around her sister’s neck at Nuance, “but your mother is trying to do you a favour. She’s trying to teach you to think. I bet that a lot of your problems would just go away if you’d think before you opened your mouth. But don’t feel bad! I have some problems with this too, and if I can do it, so can you.”

Much to his own dismay, Nuance found that he couldn’t even be angry with what Skyla had said, because she was right. With a sigh, he slumped over and stared down at the fancy embroidery on the cushion, which was covered in tiny blue snowflakes made with many different sizes of hearts.

In the grass beyond the open flap, spider eyes glittered.

When Nuance did say something, he was surprised by what came out of his mouth, it felt as though the very contents of his soul were somehow escaping. “Sometimes, I like to daydream that I am a knight… I dream about being big and powerful and important. But then I think about how pathetic I am, and my nosebleeds, and how scared I am of everything, and I am just so weak and powerless.” He felt Flurry’s wing squeeze him and he was grateful beyond words when it seemed that no ridicule was forthcoming.

“I was such a prat for so long,” Nuance continued and it was a struggle to do so because his throat drew tight. “Now, I’ve grown up a little and I’m starting to have dreams about doing stuff, and I’ve finally seen a teeny tiny bit of the world, and it feels like my mistakes have ruined my life before its even started. And that makes it easy to keep acting like a prat, sometimes, because it feels like life is already ruined, and I can’t seem to fix things. I can’t make ponies like me and sometimes it feels so hopeless that I just give up and I do awful stuff.”

Flurry groaned, a deep resonant sound that seemed far too large to have come from a filly still so small. After a deep breath, she groaned again, but this time it was more of a moan. She grunted once, her muscles twitching, and then her head began to bob up and down as she turned to Nuance and said, “Yeah, I kinda know where you are coming from. Ever since I showed my fuzzy pink behind at the Crystal Cotillion, I just can’t seem to get back into the good graces of the ponies around me. It is only now, later, after the fact, that I can understand what it was my parents were trying to do, and I wish I could take it all back.”

“What were they trying to do?”

“Well, Nuance, it boils down to compromise. My mother was trying to satisfy the aristocrats of our Empire and at the same time, she was trying to throw a killer party for me and my friends. And if I would have just focused on my friends, if only I would have trusted my parents, if I would have just tried to have a good time and ignore what others think, my Crystal Cotillion would have been a magical event, a party for the history books. Everypony could have gotten a little bit of what they wanted, but uh, well, there is no two ways about it, I blew it. I tried acting so grown up, and I thought I knew everything, and I was gonna show everypony just how grown up and capable I was. That isn’t what happened. It’s been almost a year, and my mother is still miffed at me, I just know it.”

“Oh, she is” Skyla interjected in the helpful manner of little sisters everywhere.

Ignoring her sister, Flurry addressed Nuance once more. “Look, Nuance, eating your mistakes builds character. It sucks. Oh boy, does it ever suck, and there are days when you just can’t meet the eyes of the ponies around you, because it just hurts so much and the shame just feels so heavy. There are times when Sunburst looks at me, and I can’t look back at him, because I just feel so disgusted by what I’ve done. But, Sunburst, he’s a great pony. He’s learned to spot when I’m having one of those sorts of days, and he tries to cheer me up. And you know what? It means more to me since I’ve realised that Sunburst was disappointed with what I’ve done, but he’s not disappointed with me.”

Eating his mistakes? Nuance had a flash of sudden understanding, and the wheels of his mind began turning. Most of his mistakes came from being prideful and his expectations of others, his sense of entitlements, and his arrogance. On the horizon of his mind, the colt had a nebulous idea that started to coalesce, but into what, he did not know. Either he was about to have an incredible idea, or he was going to have an epic gusher of a nosebleed, and he prepared for both.

When Nuance felt that he had been wronged, he expected an apology. And not just any apology, either, he expected appeasement, he demanded grovelling and a full admission of fault, because this was the only thing that made him feel better. Of course, he seldom got that—he seldom got what he wanted these days—but there were times when his mother, Celestia, admitted that a mistake had been made, and it made him feel immeasurably better.

It was then, at this moment, that Nuance knew what he had to do.

He needed to apologise to the terrible vizard. It was the last thing that Dim would expect to hear, and surely it would throw him off guard. It might even soften his dreadful Dark heart, then, maybe, if he was lucky, Nuance would be allowed to see Quiet, and with her help, he could show everypony that he was trying to do better.

“Hiyas!”

A three-part harmony scream filled the tent, with Nuance providing the highest pitch, Flurry offering the lowest, and Skyla being the midrange that held everything together. There, in the doorway, seeming to materialise from the darkness itself, was a ginormous horsey-lion-bird creature that was frequently mistaken for a sphinx. Terror on black wings, death with black claws, the vizard’s dangerous hippogriff guardian entered the tent.

Thankfully, the release valve in Nuance’s scrawny backside had clenched up so tight that it was now an impassable barrier. He screamed in terror for a second time, doing so until his lungs burned, and then, somehow, he managed a third time, a solo wailing with no harmonisation from Skyla or Flurry.

“Wow, that’s kinda impressive,” Blackbird remarked while her head cocked off to one side and she looked down at the three foals clinging to one another. “I was out hunting, and I had some ideas, and I wanted to help you, but first, I need to shoo Dim away, because he’s watching.”

“Dim is watching?” Skyla asked, breathless.

Blackbird nodded and with one extended talon-finger, she pointed at the oil burning lantern. There, within the lantern, standing atop the wick, was a teeny, tiny version of Dim, who was now waving up at Blackbird. Nuance stared wide-eyed at the lantern and realised with some sense of shock that Dim had been watching this whole time. So it was true; anywhere there was fire, there was also Dim. The dreadful rumours had been confirmed.

Dim had not ascended, but had transcended, and Nuance knew that he could never trust a candle nor open flame ever again.

“Begone, Dim, Djinn of Istanbull, and trouble us no more!”

“Curses!” Fiery Dim hissed, and he flickered out of existence.

Nuance took a deep breath, trying to collect himself while also hoping the muscles in his hindquarters might relax a little. Blackbird had moved closer in total silence, making not a single sound, and beside him, Flurry was still trembling while breathing hard. Skyla, who had her forelegs around her sister’s neck, was almost panting from her fright, and each laboured breath was a whimper.

Everything was almost fine once more, but then the tip of Nuance’s horn burst into flames and the colt let out yet another ear-piercing shriek while Blackbird’s eyes rolled in frustration. There, standing on the end of Nuance’s stubby horn, was a tiny, flamy, wispy Dim, and Nuance had to go cross-eyed to get a better look at him.

“Hey, kid, I can feel the hidden flame within you. Want to release your potential? It’ll cost you… I can awaken your inner fires, and all you’ve got to do is go away and never bother my daughter again. Care to make a deal? Work with me!”

“Dim, go away!” Blackbird licked her talon-thumb and her talon-fingers, then reached out and pinched the end of Nuance’s horn, snuffing her husband from existence with nary a care nor troubled expression. “Sorry about that… Dim gets… chaotic at night. Poor Nuance, I want you to make a deal with Dim, but not that one.”

When Blackbird pulled her talons away, Dim flickered back into existence and stood prancing on the tip of Nuance’s horn. “That was rude, Blackbird! There’ll be words about this!”

Quivering in fear, Flurry’s horn ignited with cold fire, and—while her tongue stuck out in concentration—she conjured up a blizzardy gale in miniature. The puff of frosty, arctic air struck Dim, causing him to flicker in the hurricane-force winds, and the miniscule flaming figure was extinguished once more.

Nuance’s nerves couldn’t take much more, and he felt a great many snowflakes falling upon his face. With bated breath, he waited, wondering if Dim would return, would re-ignite and stand upon the tip of his horn. Dim was, in fact, the single most terrifying pony in existence, and Nuance’s mother crafted nightmares for a living.

Sitting down, Blackbird plucked Nuance away from Flurry, lifting him by the scruff of his neck and then snuggling him close. Petrified, too afraid to protest, Nuance allowed himself to be held, to be babied, and he could feel Blackbird’s muzzle pressing against the top of his head. When she breathed, she tickled him, but he was too scared to laugh. Nuance had an alarming moment of realisation when it occurred to him that he was resting atop a gentle swell in Blackbird’s stomach, and angled his head so that he might look up at her.

“Little Quiet, she loves you to pieces, and I want her to be happy.” With a light, careful touch, Blackbird ran her talon-fingers through Nuance’s mane, and shivers ran down his neck, causing his little legs to twitch. “She and I had a talk during bathtime, and wouldn’t you know it, she has a plan to save you. Quiet, she gets that from her mother, and her mother, me, I get that from my father. We save ponies from themselves.”

Nuance nodded, because it felt like the right thing to do.

“Okay, now listen up, Nuance, because this is a detailed plan, and I’m going to tell you how to make a deal with Dim—”

“The first part of the plan is that I’m going to say I’m sorry.” Oops! Nuance had just failed at listening and he had interrupted Blackbird, but she did not seem upset. But, she did nod, and she did smile, and then Nuance knew that everything was going to be okay. Waiting, he went quiet so that he might listen.

“Oh, hey, that’s smart!” Blackbird’s eyes glittered with good-natured glee and she continued to stroke Nuance’s mane while the two sisters sat watching. “Now, most of this is Quiet’s plan, and she has some pretty high expectations of you, so listen up. Now, after apologising, the very first thing you are going to do is…”
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Licking his lips did nothing to moisten them and Nuance hesitated at the door, fearing the outcome of whatever came next. Was Quiet worth it? Was her friendship and good cheer worth all of this? His heart said yes, but his legs wanted him to run as fast as he could. Where would running get him? It was dark outside and there was nowhere to run. No, there was no other choice, no other option, he had to face the vizard and bargain with him.

But first, there was appeasing Dim’s pride with an apology.

With Flurry on one side, and Skyla on the other, Nuance was pushed forwards, making the door seem to grow ever-larger, taller, wider, more imposing. The colt whimpered, a sound that made his ears burn with shame, and he felt Skyla’s wing wrap around his neck. She was stronger than he by far, because she was an alicorn, a creature of immeasurable strength and power. Skyla was everything that he would never be and Nuance gave some thought about how me might have hated her or resented her for all this time.

After a time of thoughtful reflection, about five seconds or so, he determined that he was sorry, but an apology would have to come later, once this dreadful nightmare was over. He really was a monstrous little ingrate and he needed to make amends. It was his most sincere hope that Quiet might help him, and he planned to ask her. He would even say please, and try not to be demanding, or bossy, or rude. How hard could it possibly be to ask for a favour and not expect compliance?

The door was pulled open and Nuance expected to see Dim, but he wasn’t there. No, Sinister had opened the door, and she stood there, solemn, statuesque, a dread-inspiring guardian. Sinister was a far better pony than he would ever be, and Nuance knew it. She had pulled the soul of the Golem Lord into her body and then, using her body as a prison, she had taken the Golem Lord to Tartarus. There, she had stayed, enduring a horrible, wretched existence, until Grogar’s forces had invaded Tartarus to collect some necessary souls. Sinister had accomplished everything that Nuance had hopes of doing, and she had done so without boasting, without bragging, without being a monstrous prat.

“Have you no spine?” Sinister asked as she stared down her muzzle at the colt cowering just outside the door.

Nuance had nothing smart to say, nothing snide, his sarcasm had failed him. “No.”

“Oh, you poor dear. That’s tragic,” Sinister replied, and then she did the unthinkable: snatching him up, she hauled him inside to face his doom.





Inside, the house was very dim; Nuance reminded himself that these were creatures that had little need of light and he wondered if what few lights there were had been lit for his benefit. If they had, it was very kind of them. Blinking, Nuance tried to see his surroundings, but everything was shrouded in shadows. This wasn’t so much a home as it was a museum and what little he could see horrified him. Skeletons, skeletons everywhere. As a family, Quiet and her parents collected and assembled skeletons, and then put them on display. Overhead, skeletal owls hung from almost-invisible wires, along with bats and even a cockatrice.

Quiet would no doubt know the name of every single bone in every single skeleton.

Just as Nuance’s hooves touched down upon the floor in the middle of the parlour, he was assaulted by some dreadful bit of darkness come to life and hungry for his flesh. Wailing in terror, he was bowled over and his vulnerable, delicate belly was exposed to whatever was about to devour him. An indiscriminate black shape surrounded him, bore down upon him, and then much to his horror, sat on him.

“Hiya, Nooncy!” an overly cheerful voice chirped and Nuance very nearly wet himself in terror.

Above Nuance was a crescent smile filled with terrible teeth. Two small hooves kneaded against his barrel, and Quiet Dark was purring, as she was prone to do. Nuance was so relieved to see her that he could not withhold his greeting: “You sot! I almost wet myself!”

“Aw, Nooncy, have some smoochies!”

Before he could protest, Nuance was assaulted once more as wet, slobbery kisses were plastered all over his face. Trying to squirm away was no good and in the end, all he could do was endure it. To say that Quiet was affectionate was like trying to say that lions were predatory. All of his bluster escaped as a sigh, and then Nuance went still as Quiet drenched him with her affections.

“Quiet, don’t play with your food,” Sinister said while looming large over the pair of them.

“Aw…” Quiet pulled away, reluctant, but then gave in and managed to give Nuance just one more super-slobbery smooch right on his left cheek.

Things went from bad to worse for Nuance when he heard the Squabbling Sisters giggling, and he wriggled just a little beneath Quiet, who remained sitting on top of him. The rug below was quite soft, and Nuance found that he wasn’t as uncomfortable as he first thought when he had tumbled over. In his own way, he was happy to see Quiet too, just not as exuberant about saying his hello as she was.

“Where’s Dim?” Flurry asked.

“Studying windigo essence,” Sinister replied in a voice of terrifying, steady calm. “Dim has thoroughly rational fears that Grogar will revive the windigos and try to make allies of them.”

“Oh, neat”—Flurry’s response came with a fluttering of wings—“I wonder if he’d let me join him?”

“Perhaps, once this unpleasantness is over.” Sinister turned away from Flurry and looked down at both Quiet and Nuance. “Quiet, beloved, please, such behaviour is unseemly. Do not sit on Nuance in such a manner. It is vulgar.”

“Yes, Nana.”

Obedient, Quiet scrambled off of Nuance, stepping on him only once, and then sat down beside him. Reaching down, she hauled him up into a sitting position, gave him a good shove to check his balance, then, flinging her forelegs around his neck, she embraced him and did not let go. This tickled, and Nuance found himself squirming.

“This better, Nana?” Quiet asked as she gave Nuance fuzzy-wuzzy-muzzle-nuzzles.

“Quite.” Then, after a few seconds, Sinister let out a sigh for reasons unknown to Nuance.

“Nuance”—Quiet wrapped her forelegs around his neck in a fierce headlock—“Nuance, I’ve come up with a plan to save you, so you’d better be a good pony and do it… or else I’ll gobble your face off.”

More snickering could be heard from the Squabbling Sisters, and from somewhere in the shadows, Blackbird as well. Nuance was almost certain that he was allergic to embarrassment, and his skin felt both hot and prickly all over. There was no point in trying to wiggle away, because Quiet had earth pony strength and he didn’t.

“You have to stop being a bad pony, because then I won’t be able to see you. Is that what you want, Nuance? Do you want my cute little heart left a broken, bloody, ooey-gooey mess?”

Almost overcome with burning shame and embarrassment, Nuance closed his eyes and then just sat there like a lump, thankful to be with Quiet, but also kind of hating her for bringing up his misbehaviour. Not knowing what else to do, he leaned up against her and tried a difficult magical trick: conjuring gratitude.

“Lately, you’ve been floundering,” Quiet continued and she gave Nuance an aggressive squeeze. “I know that you’ve been trying to do better, but you get grumpy and go back to being awful. But I know that you’re trying, even if other ponies don’t see it. I’m not seeing stuff, am I? ‘Cause that would break my heart, Nuance, if I was imagining this.”

“I am trying,” Nuance whispered.

“Did Mama tell you the plan?”

“Yes.”

“Did you listen?”

“Yes—” A hard smack to the back his head caused Nuance’s eyes to fly open and then he blinked in pained alarm.

“Don’t lie to me.” Quiet’s words came out as a growl from her sharklike maw.

“Mostly… I got scared and I freaked out near the end and that made it hard!” The sound of his own whiny voice made Nuance cringe and he wished that he was elsewhere, even though he had been waiting forever to see Quiet. He hated when she did this to him, because she didn’t let him get away with anything.

“You just can’t pay attention, can you?”

“No.” Sulking, Nuance turned his head away from Quiet and armed himself with his best scowl. “I have troubles, okay? I get all worked up and I worry and I start thinking about all the stuff that might happen and sometimes I just zone off and start daydreaming. It’s hard. I can’t seem to think about any one thing for very long.”

“Being honest”—Quiet’s murmuring lips tickled the back of Nuance’s head, causing the colt to have fitful twitches—“was that so hard?”

“Yes.” Nuance squirmed to get away, but it was useless, and he really didn’t want to get away after having spent the entire day trying to get close. Quiet’s hugs were special, though he would never, ever admit it. With a huff, his resistance ended and he settled into her embrace once more, unmoving.

“I’ve heard so many stories about my parents,” the odd little filly said to the colt she held close to her. “Important stories. Really, super-duper important stories, and I learned a lot from them. This is why you hafta listen, you doofus. I’m gonna be your Blackbird.”





Nuance was almost feeling confident with three fillies at his side. He wasn’t facing an evil vizard—not at all—but he was dealing with a father who loved his daughter a great deal. Dim was—even with everything that others said about him—still a pony, just as Nuance himself was a pony, and he knew that others said much about him too, giving he and Dim something in common.

Dim’s beard was mesmerising, but his eyes were even more so. A dainty, delicate teacup hovered, aloft in Dim’s magic and little curls of steam rose from it. Quiet nudged him on one side, and Flurry elbowed his ribs from the other, and he could feel Skyla’s eyes upon him. Try as he might, Nuance just couldn’t get the words to come.

“Out with it.” Dim curled his lips back in a sneer.

Eyes narrowed, teeth bared, Quiet had this to say: “Sei nett, Vater.”

“Halt den Mund, Schatz.”

“Nein, Vater.”

“Freches Stutfohlen.”

“Du hast mich dazu gebracht.”

Dim cleared his throat. “So tat ich.”

Poor Nuance had no idea what was being said and feared this exchange was about him. It was time to come clean, it was time for action, it was time to do the right thing, even though the right thing was sure to be hard. With his guts clenched tight with fear, Nuance threw himself on Dim’s mercy.

“I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what, exactly?”

Again, Flurry elbowed him in the ribs and Nuance knew he needed to answer quick, before his ribs were bruised from Flurry’s helpfulness. “For everything. I said and did so much… you’re angry with me, I think, but I don’t know why.” When Dim sighed, Nuance worried that an angry lecture in the language of war was coming.

“You honestly don’t know why I am angry?” Dim blinked once, twice, took a sip of tea, blinked for a third time, and then his ears pricked. “I hesitate to even say anything in front of my daughter.”

“Look, I did a lot of bad stuff, and I’ll admit to that, but I can’t remember all of it and it isn’t fair for you to expect that from me,” Nuance said while trying and failing to control his breathing.

“You’re right.” Dim bowed his head. “Nuance… awhile ago, you went off on a tear about half-breeds—”

The swift, sudden impact to the back of his head left Nuance dizzy, stunned, and in considerable pain. As bad as it was, it somehow made him feel better, because he deserved it, and he knew it. Squeezing his eyes closed, he couldn’t bear to look over at Quiet and he buried his face in his front hooves.

“That wasn’t even the first incident, but it was the one that caused me to draw the line.”

Flinching, Nuance waited for another stunning slap to the back of his head, but none seemed forthcoming. Beside him, coming from Quiet, he could hear sniffles, and it was the worst sound in the world, a sound so awful that he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. When he felt Quiet’s soft touch upon him, he tried to shy away, but Flurry’s sudden shove kept him within Quiet’s reach.

“Did you do this?” Quiet whispered.

“Yes.”Strangled by his own emotions, Nuance had trouble saying the word.

“Are you sorry?”

The constriction in his throat proved to be too much to bear, and so he nodded.

“Then I forgive you,” Quiet said in her own quiet way that left behind no doubt. “But you must never say such things ever again.”

There was a rustle of feathers from Blackbird’s direction, but Nuance didn’t open his eyes. In misery, he sat between Quiet and Flurry, the pain in his heart far, far worse than the pain on his head. For a moment, he thought about Pebble, and he wished that she was here with him, because she would be here with him, if he needed her, and he knew this to be true.

When he opened his eyes, Dim refused to come into focus and Nuance had to squint to see through his tears. A million different thoughts rushed through his mind, each one of them demanding to be said, and he thought about everything that Blackbird had said to him when the plan was discussed, or at least he tried to remember what he could.

In the end, what came out was quite brief. “Quiet is my Blackbird. What if somepony had kept Blackbird from you?”

Dim did not respond, but sipped his tea. Nuance waited, almost shivering, and all four of his frogs were slick with freezing sweat. It was all on the line now. He had thrown himself on Dim’s mercy with so little said, and he was supposed to have said so much more, because Dim could be a hard pony to reach. Even if Quiet forgave him, it would not matter if Dim did not relent in turn.. Should the worst happen, Nuance readied himself to accept it, He would cry about it, and try not to protest too much. Something told him acceptance would serve him better here.

Without Dim’s response, Nuance continued, “I’m not asking for Quiet’s company. I’m willing to work for it. I’ll do community service… I… I am willing to work to show that I am… that I am… I want to show you that I mean this. Whatever it takes. She’s worth it.” Even though his vision was fuzzy, Nuance could see that one fine eyebrow arched over Dim’s face. It was terrifying to behold, so much judgment in one tiny eyebrow.

“There is a saying used among the new ranks of nobility in Equestria,” Skyla began in little more than a whisper.

“Privilege is slavery,” Flurry finished.

“As it should be.” Sinister’s icy, imperious deadpan left behind a strange, uncomfortable silence that caused Nuance’s innards to go squishing around inside of him. “Those capable of doing more should have so much more expected of them. The aristocracy has grown decadent and has rotted from within. The Darks most of all.”

Peering at Nuance over his teacup, Dim leaned forwards, his eyes shrewd and full of cunning. “And what is to be our rate of exchange?”

“I… I-I don’t understand.” Nuance shook his head and hated himself for stammering.

“How many hours of devoted service will you give me for a mere moment of precious time with Quiet?” There was no warmth to be found in Dim’s voice, only the cold, calculating tone of a callous mercenary. “What will you give?”

“Well, I… I… uh, I thought that if I did an hour of work that I’d get an hour with Quiet.”

“Nein.”

“Oh.” Nuance gulped. “Oh. Fiddlesticks.”

“What will you contribute to our great Empire?” Dim asked as cold fire could be seen blazing in his mismatched eyes.

“What do you think is fair?” Cringing, Nuance waited for an answer that he knew would be brutal, and when Dim tented his front hooves together, he almost whimpered in fear.

“How about five minutes for every hour?” Dim suggested and Nuance let out a pained groan.

“Um—”

“Are you about to tell me that my daughter isn’t worth that much?”

Swallowing his words, Nuance wiped his sweaty front frogs on his barrel and then stared Dim in the eye, a feat that proved almost impossible. “She’s worth it, but that doesn’t seem very fair to me.”

“Life isn’t fair.” Dim’s lip—as thin as parchment paper—curled back into a fine, well practiced sneer. “Even with Blackbird’s help, do you think it was easy for me to redeem myself? To prove myself worthy? To find my own self-worth again? I think she found it long before I did.”

“If I could be a knight and pledge a lifetime’s worth of service, I would! Quiet is worth that!”

The teacup in Dim’s telekinesis trembled and the goateed vizard replied, “And just what do you know of knighthood?”

“My mother… Luna… she gave me some books.” Unable to bear looking at Dim any longer, Nuance looked down at the paisley sofa cushion that he sat on. “A few months ago. She gave me these books and she told me that they were yours. Somehow, they survived whatever happened to your old tower. She found them in the rubble. The stories are nice.”

Dim’s teacup suffered total sublimation and vanished with a hiss.

“She said that I would be inspired by what I read in there, but I’m so small, and weak, and nopony likes me, but it sounds so nice and meaningful. I daydream about it, sometimes, and there are moments when I sort of slip off when things are happening and I wonder how a knight from those old stories would do things. It’s saved me from trouble a few times, but it has also got me into trouble because I keep daydreaming when I should be paying attention.”

“Don’t stop daydreaming.” Dim’s thin, reedy voice seemed frail somehow, fragile.

“But my parents—”

“I WILL SPEAK TO YOUR PARENTS!”

Recoiling, Nuance squeezed himself up next to Flurry and hid his face behind his front hooves. Dim was terrifying; spittle flecked his mustache and his goatee, his eyelids were twitching in a most alarming way, and the room seemed far too warm for Nuance’s liking. It took several long, agonising seconds before Dim seemed to collect himself.

“I am sorry for my outburst.” Dim’s ears fell back to a more apologetic position and he continued, “I will speak to your parents, but you should follow your dream. If you dream of knighthood, then you chase that dream. Do not relent, little one. Look at me. You should know how frail I am. I dreamed of doing better… those books inspired me, and I dreamed. I chose better things, and Blackbird was my fair maiden…” His words trailed off and Dim fell back into his chair, his whole body trembling.

Raising his quivering right front hoof, Dim whispered, “If only somepony had believed in me sooner, so many years might not have been wasted. All that time left wanding about in the bleak dark…”

Leaning over, Quiet rested both of her front hooves against Nuance’s neck, and she pressed her body against him, sandwiching him against Flurry. “Papa has hurts that you can’t see. They pain him so. I know he did not mean to scare you, he did not mean for his outburst, just like I don’t think you mean yours, Nuance.”

“For every hour of community service you perform,” Dim began in a reedy, aristocratic whine, “for each hour spent in service of the Empire, I will allow you a half-an-hour with Quiet. This is the base amount of time. But if I hear from your parents that you are back to your old ways, this time will increase considerably, or you may lose access to Quiet altogether.”

Nuance took a deep breath and thought about Dim’s words, but Quiet had her own reply.

“He’ll take it, but we get to spend all the time we want together doing community service.” Quiet sat up straight and looked her father right in the eye, unafraid.

A silent, unspoken exchange seemed to take place between Quiet and her father.

Nuance, confused, had to know why she would do what she was doing for him. “Quiet, why are you doing this? I don’t get it? Why do this for me?”

Never taking her eyes off of her father, she replied, “I don’t know if I can save the world, but I learned from my mother that I can save just one pony, and that’s enough. She learned this from Grandpapa Stinkberry. Nana told me that this is the Coffyn legacy and that I should embrace it.”

“I’m gonna go bawl my eyes out now!” Blackbird announced, and then she departed the room in a hurry, her claws and hooves clattering against the floor.

“Do we have a deal?” Dim asked, casting his eyes in the direction that Blackbird had fled.

For once, Nuance had no hesitation or anxiety about answering. “Yes, we do.”

“Then we are in agreement.” Dim snorted, which caused his mustache to flap, and Nuance thought of the songbird being devoured in the sap trap grabber. “Now, begone, all of you. Go outside and stay in your tent. You too, Quiet. There is something I must do.”

Then, before anything else could be said, Dim was gone with a crackle of aetherfire.

“Hey,” Quiet said to Skyla, her best bosom companion, “Sleepover.”

“Yeah, sleepover!”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Flurry announced as she wrapped her forelegs around both her little sister and Nuance, and gave them both a squeeze. “We should give Nuance a makeover and make him one of us!”

No! Nuance thought about crying out in protest, but it was far too late, and he knew his fate was sealed. Sighing in resignation, he couldn’t see the point in fighting back, and maybe, just maybe, if he tried enjoying himself, he might have a little fun. He just might have a night to remember.
> The entirely optional epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alone within her aerie, Luna’s meditations upon the state of her dream realm was interrupted by the guttering of a lone candle, just one of many, with the others left undisturbed. Tilting her head off to one side, she cast a quizzical glance at this sputtering candle as she seemed to slide in and out of reality, her body slipping in and out of different phases of distinction.

In her bed, a black, grey, and silver pony stirred, almost waking during her distraction, but with a flick of her magical will, she smoothed out his thoughts and restored his peaceful, contented state of slumber. Though not a supernatural dreamwalker such as she was, her companion, her helpmate, he was a boon to her nonetheless, as he brought such happy dreams to others, but she had to escort him through the gate.

Aetherfire blazed around the length of the candle, the natural flame sputtered for a moment, extinguished, and then re-ignited. The flame burned in the most curious of shapes, rather not at all like a teardrop, as most flames, but was more… unicorn shaped. Yes, indeed, Luna nodded, because this was most certainly a unicorn shape.

“Who are you that you invade my private chambers?” Luna demanded of the flames.

“Where the flames burn, there I am also, for these are my domain. In this state, I am legion.”

“Dim.”

“Großmutter.”

“I’m not gross.”

“You always make that joke.”

After tilting her head completely sideways to study the flame, Luna said, “How wondrous. I had not thought such a thing possible. How have you done this? What magic is this? How have you reached so far?”

“Dragon magic,” was Dim’s cryptic reply. “I have given myself over to the flames. One day, I may cast aside this body completely, once it has aged to the point of uselessness. I have not yet decided. Death is optional at this point.”

“Wondrous.” Luna shifted a little more of her consciousness from the dream realm and brought more of her attention to bear upon the tiny flaming form of Dim. “And how is my son?”

“A prat—”

“Don’t make me destroy you.”

“He is safe, secure, and happy,” Dim said, offering appeasement. “As it turns out, my daughter has come up with a similar plan to ours. She is clever—”

“Indeed she is,” Luna replied, interrupting, and speaking with no small amount of pride.

“This plan, it concerns me.” Dim’s flame flickered for a moment, whipped about by invisible winds, and then it went calm once more. “This places much pressure upon Nuance. I am deeply concerned for his well-being. He is high strung and does not respond well to tension, as I have discovered.”

“Did you scare my son?” Luna demanded.

To which Dim replied, “Maybe just a little. How could I resist?”

“I approve. Nuance needs to be shaken up from time to time. It is part of the plan.”

“I don’t know if I like this plan.”

“Dim… Dim… this is Twilight’s plan—all of it. She the author of this great endeavour. Twilight says that Nuance must never feel fully secure and comfortable with his access to Quiet. It is a worry that he can focus on and have some control over, and she says that this will give him the sense of control he needs in his life. But he must feel that he has to work for it.”

“Oh, I understand, but I do not wish for him to suffer unduly.”

“For him to be better, he must suffer. Twilight has reached this conclusion after no small amount of anxiety upon her part, and Cadance agrees. This will give Nuance one thing he himself has total and complete control over. He will determine his own success, and Twilight is confident that this will make him better.”

“Are you positive that this will empower him?” Dim asked, hesitant.

“I am positive that Twilight is positive, and I have chosen to keep my personal feelings out of this matter. Thus far, all of mine own efforts have lead to naught. Mine sister has exhausted all of her tricks. Cadance has reached the end of her rope… Twilight will save us, as she is prone to do.”

“I will do as I am bid,” Dim offered, bowing his head in submission, “though I am uncomfortable with it. Quiet is a source of relief for him—”

“And now she will serve as a source of motivation for him to make better choices.” Luna’s voice was a near-deadpan of commanding imperiousness. “He is given the sense of control that he so desperately craves.”

“I guess.” Dim sighed, his flaming form crackling. “There is a matter that I wish to discuss with you… about Nuance.”

“Yes?”

“Allow him his foalish endeavours. Let him daydream. Is his young life not troubling enough? Remaining cooped up in a castle… or a tower… it does terrible things for the state of one’s mind. Do not chide him.”

“But he must learn to focus and pay attention,” Luna retorted even as she gave thought to Dim’s ominous warning, and she gave careful consideration to her knowledge about the Darks left to decay in their tower. Dim’s warning carried an emotional heft that she dared not ignore.

“He daydreams of being a knight, just as I once did. Sinister tells me that he slips in and out of fantastical daydreams. Today, he was a noble knight, laying siege to a vizard’s tower to rescue his fair princess. He is daydreaming of doing good, Großmutter.”

Dim’s words gave Luna pause, and she took a moment to consider them with all due carefulness. Lips pressed into a tight, pinched line, Luna’s eyebrows took turns rising and falling, and her long eyelashes clung to one another like long lost lovers with each blink, only to be torn apart by cruel fate.

“Let him daydream, or else I shall haunt your candles!”

“Dim—”

“Cut him some slack, or else! I mean it! My daughter is being exploited for Nuance’s benefit and I will have a say in this!”

“Very well.” Acquiescing, Luna bowed her head, knowing how important it was for Quiet to be part of the plan. “I will allow for a little slack, when I can. I will inform the others.”

“I need to go,” Dim said, and his voice carried with it a sense of urgency. “My nose is bleeding. This is more taxing than I had first thought. If I do not go soon, I shall indeed become at one with the flame. Gute Nacht, Großmutter.”

Before Luna could respond, Dim was gone, his candle extinguished. A thin curl of smoke rose up from the wick, a memory of his brief, flickering existence. Luna smiled, a sincere, happy smile, and while she stood there staring at the now-extinguished candle, she nodded. A tear, a single, solitary loner that had worked up the courage to face the world all by itself, it rolled down her cheek and before it could reach the stern edge of her jaw, it was absorbed into her dense, luxurious pelt, the only trace of its passing a darkened streak.

With her smile never faltering, Luna allowed her consciousness to retreat into the realm of dreams…