After Emberglow and her friends showed the Diarchy a better path, the ponies living there begin to slowly let go of their fear. However, when impossible figures from the distant past make their return, she finds her greatest trials are yet to come.
Thanks to the efforts of Emberglow, her fellow Elements, and all who stood against tyranny, the twisted heart of the Holy Equestrian Diarchy was exposed and expunged. Some time has passed since then, and all the creatures of the land have settled into a new normal. While there are those who still cling to their old fear and hatred, the seeds of change have been planted in the hearts of many who once blindly followed a bigoted faith. Others have already embraced peaceful coexistence, following Emberglow’s example.
But sudden, unfathomable arrivals trigger a seismic shift, upending what everypony thought they knew and threatening to undo everything Emberglow and company achieved. Can they uncover the real truth once again and protect Equestria? Or will renewed violence and conquest sweep across the entire world under the purview of those who would claim absolute power?
Emberglow awoke gently, like the petals of a flower unfurling in the light. The warmth of the silken sheets against her fur and camisole did not compare to that of her princess, who was also stirring from sleep beneath an outstretched hoof. Feathers shifted as mare and wife rose in sync, limbs pulling up and back, their bodies long used to rising at this early hour.
“Morning,” Emberglow greeted, smiling softly. Even with her mane bent and bunched up from the pillow, Rarity was still the most beautiful thing in the room. And their room, fit for royalty, had some of the finest furnishings in the palace.
“Not yet,” Rarity quipped. It was an old joke, but Emberglow would never tire of what came next.
Stepping onto the carpet, Rarity approached their bedside window, pink and purple pre-dawn light filtering through gossamer curtains. She lit her horn, and the moon fell, pushed below the distant horizon. At the same time, the sun rose opposite it, lifted aloft by Sunset from across the castle.
She still almost couldn’t believe that it was she herself who had touched the heart of such a divine pony.
This sacred ritual complete, Emberglow stood and stretched her back. After planting a quick kiss on her wife’s cheek, she headed off to their shared bathroom to take care of business and have a quick shower. She always went first, as Rarity’s morning routine took far longer. Meanwhile, she knew Rarity would usually spend this time double-checking her schedule for the day and picking out an ensemble. The work of a princess was never done. Except for today.
As she showered, Emberglow called out through the door. “I imagine you planned out your outfit for the grand opening of Sunset’s School for Gifted Unicorns in advance, right?”
“Of course,” Rarity confirmed, tittering. “I’m going for something more subdued. Wouldn’t want to take the spotlight away from the mare of the hour!”
That certainly made sense to Emberglow. Sunset had been working on getting a magic school up and running for a while now, both as a means of honoring the legacy of her predecessors and ensuring that many of the lost spells from her era didn’t stay lost. Even just finding and training enough competent teachers for all the requisite grade levels had been a struggle.
“Well, sure, but you are still going to be teaching there a few times a week,” Emberglow pointed out as she lathered shampoo into her mane and tail. “You’re entitled to some attention. In fact, how could anypony ignore you?”
Rarity laughed at that, figuratively waving the statement off. “Oh, darling, you flatter me. Teaching may not be my true forté, but it is something I grew to enjoy in the old days. I agreed to take up the Intermediate Magic and Spell Multitasking class only because Sunset insisted I was needed.”
“If you say so. I still think part of it was to have an excuse to interact with cute foals more often.”
A polite huff emanated through the door. “I shall neither confirm nor deny that accusation.”
Emberglow beamed softly to herself. Her wife could be so silly sometimes. Headstrong, too, especially regarding more personal topics. Like foals. But what couple never argued at all? They were still only equine. And they vowed to take the good times with the bad.
“At any rate, you’re going flying with Terminus today, I believe?” Rarity asked.
“Yes,” she replied, nodding automatically while she scrubbed. Working at the hospital for this long had ingrained her with a fast and thorough personal hygiene technique.
“And Heartwing still doesn’t mind you spending time alone together, hmm?” she posed, coy.
Rinsing off, Emberglow rolled her eyes, her smile widening. “Oh, stop. If you’re so concerned, you can ask them yourself at group therapy this evening.”
“‘Twas merely a jest, darling. I know the two of you are the last ponies in the Empire who’d be unfaithful. In the romantic sense, at least,” she clarified.
“Ha,” Emberglow chuckled dryly.
After finishing up in the bathroom, a very fluffy towel wrapped around her drying mane, Emberglow switched places with her wife, the two of them reaching out to touch wingtips as they passed.
Smiling upon hearing Rarity begin humming a cheery tune to herself, Emberglow got dressed and put on her hairpin. Then she sat down on the plush sofa, taking advantage of the free moment by grabbing her reading material from the crystal coffee table. It was the latest medical journal, covering some recent breakthroughs in non-invasive surgery. The Knights Radiant were finally beginning to incorporate the medical knowledge of unicorns and other races into their repertoire, despite pushback from those who would obstinately let their loved ones suffer rather than admit unicorn expertise had value.
She shook her head to clear it, not wanting to dive down that rabbit hole again. Honestly, after everything she’d been through, having a set routine again had done wonders for Emberglow’s mood. She and Rarity were busy, yes, but it was a good busy. The worst Emberglow had to deal with on the regular were cranky patients and awkward conversations with Radiants or her parents. A far cry from some of her far more hostile interactions with other ponies during the war.
Lost in her thoughts and the journal both, it took a hoof on her shoulder and a polite clearing of the throat to call her back to the present. She closed the publication and turned.
“How do I look?” Rarity asked, striking a pose. She had actually picked out a sort of educator’s look befitting the day, with a sleek charcoal gray skirt, lighter grey blouse, and a bright blue ascot. Her ‘casual’ silver tiara - not the one with her Element - still made her status clear.
“Amazing as always,” Emberglow replied.
“Flatterer,” Rarity tittered. “Now let’s go have breakfast.”
Side by side, they pulled open their doors to the hallway, where their long-time guards, Iron Shod and Crossguard, flanked the egress, at the ready with patient smiles. They followed Emberglow and Rarity at a close but respectful distance as they trotted down sparkling passageways to their destination.
The royal dining room, unlike the banquet hall, was a small, intimate space, lit with gently glowing wall sconces that sent orange firelight dancing across the rose quartz walls. The hardwood table was large, but not massive, with room for only a dozen pony-sized creatures. Empress Cadance and Princess Sunset were already chatting over their food at one end of the table, and Sunset waved hello as they entered.
“Hello, friends,” Emberglow greeted, settling atop a floor pillow. To her, these mares weren’t the unapproachable leaders of a nation-state, they were her dear, long-time companions. Their familiar faces were a comfort.
“Oh my, that looks scrumptious,” Rarity noted, eyeing the spinach quiche hungrily. Emberglow had to agree. In addition, there was a dish of sauteed crystal berries and toast as well as the usual coffee, tea service, and biscuits. Every day, the castle chef, Thorkell, proved anew that yaks were indeed best at cooking.
As Emberglow thanked Rarity while she served their portions with magic, Cadance looked towards them after dabbing her mouth with a napkin.
“Morning you two!” Sunset exclaimed after swallowing her bite of toast. “I was just telling Cadance how nice it is to finally be done with all the logistical headaches of setting up the school.”
“So you can get to the good part?” Emberglow asked as she sat down. “The actual teaching?”
“Exactly,” Sunset confirmed. “Plenty of foals look up to me already, and this is my chance to really connect with them and make a difference in their lives. Pay it forward, after what Celestia and Twilight did for me.”
Emberglow agreed one hundred percent. Someday she also wanted to pass on her medicinal skills to the next generation.
As Rarity cut out a small section of quiche, Cadance looked between them and Sunset, head inclined in a pointed gesture. “The relationship between a student and teacher is quite the fulfilling one, yes. Of course, that’s not the best kind, in my humble opinion.”
Sunset sighed. “Look, I told you before, I have no intention to start dating again at this point,” she insisted, pouting slightly.
“Well, I’m inclined to agree with Cadance, here,” Rarity said with a grin. “‘Tis a most worthwhile pursuit.”
“See?” Cadence declared, resting her chin on her hoof impishly.
Emberglow was too preoccupied enjoying the ripe berries to comment, but she did smile. Of course the wise old matchmaker would bring this up. After her long period of recovery, the empress was in peak health again, with an abundance of energy. She would never have expected Cadance to have such a mischievous side, but definitely didn’t mind her ensuing antics. Cadance had lost a great deal in her life, especially recently, so Emberglow was glad to see the impish joy of matchmaking replace her frequent sad, distant stare.
Princess Sunset was the only remaining creature in her immediate circle of friends who didn’t have or hadn't once had a life partner. Well, besides Oak Chips, and Emberglow was pretty sure he possessed zero interest in romance. Meanwhile, in addition to being royalty, Sunset was pansexual, she knew, so the mare had no shortage of interested parties to get to know better.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit preoccupied running an empire,” Sunset pointed out, with emphasis. “I get the most done on that front out of anypony at this table!”
“Well, yes,” Emberglow confirmed, “but that’s because you take your responsibility a bit too seriously, I think.” Feeling guilty about not doing enough to help was something she was very familiar with. “You need to keep your own happiness in mind.”
“Well said, darling,” Rarity confirmed, sipping her tea. “The Empress and I have gotten rather practiced at delegating to the right ponies; our subjects aren’t a bunch of children.”
Cadence nodded firmly. “You have nothing to lose and the world to gain!”
Under the kind yet insistent stares from Emberglow and her fellow alicorns, Sunset at last caved, rolling her eyes. “Fine, I’ll keep my eyes open. Happy?”
“Very much so,” Rarity replied primly, putting a pin on it by extending a wing to rest affectionately on Emberglow’s back, making an effective demonstration of what she was missing. Emberglow savored the contact.
The Empress’ smirk grew sly. “Just don’t try to bed any of your older students. That dynamic almost never ends well.”
Sunset nearly dropped her fork as she sputtered, a blush coloring her cheeks. “C-Cadance!”
Emberglow burst out into good-natured laughter.
It was a warm, pleasant day in the Empire. Thanks to the Crystal Heart, all days were warm and pleasant as long as love flourished. Creatures were now able to come and go freely across the Empire’s borders, which had expanded over the last thousand years. Though they could move freely, the polar winds could not, leaving the remaining air currents to be gentle at most. The city, therefore, was an ideal environment for long exercise flights. Here in the center of the city, plenty of creatures, both pegasi and griffons, were out and about, traipsing through the heavens.
Still, as much as she and her wife spent their time together, this was one thing Rarity often passed on, despite having earned wings. Though she reveled in flight, soaring at any significant speed ruffled her mane too much, she insisted.
Emberglow glided along through the air, the magic in her wings carrying her aloft. Even now, the simple act brought her joy. Idly watching the ground-bound residents going about their days, she made her way over to the humble set of condominiums where Heartwing and Terminus lived.
Built to accommodate those with mobility issues, each single-story home was built entirely flush with the ground. It made Heartwing’s life far easier. Cadance had of course offered the pair rooms in the palace after everything they’d done, but the structure’s ancient architects had been rather fond of staircases. Lots and lots of staircases.
When Emberglow arrived, Terminus was already waiting on the roof, stretching his wings. His movements were automatic, devoid of enthusiasm.
Hmm. Something was eating at him. She didn’t want to pry, but as long as she was there for him, hopefully he’d confide in her.
Emberglow waved down at the stallion to catch his attention, hovering in place. “Hi, Terminus. Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” he said, cracking his neck. Not wasting any time, he leapt into the air to join her.
For a little while, they flew in silence, slowly rising higher into the sky and building up speed. Emberglow’s thoughts quieted, and she focused on the experience. Feeling the air rush across her feathers, the steady in-and-out of her breathing, just being.
“So, how are you?” Terminus eventually asked. “Anything exciting going on?”
The words pulled Emberglow back into herself. “A bit. Cadance finally convinced Sunset to start looking for somepony. And the school is opening up today.”
Terminus grunted in acknowledgement, matching Emberglow’s speed without visible effort. “Rarity doesn’t mind you missing it?”
“She says she’d be too distracted by my radiance to teach,” she admitted with a laugh. “Besides, I’ll be keeping her company during her dressmaking hour as usual.”
“Still only one hour a day for her cutie mark talent?” Terminus questioned. “Damn, and here I thought Heartwing was keeping too busy despite his 'retirement.' He’s been out most of the day dealing with some Discordant matters.”
Emberglow nodded sagely as her smile widened. “Such is the price we pay for marrying ponies in power.”
Terminus snorted. “Indeed.”
There was a lull, then, as they continued soaring along. They’d reached the outskirts of the city now, grown and built homes and workplaces giving way to close-packed acres of farmland. In the distance, the exterior of the glacier-carved changeling hive was just barely visible through the edge of the crystal heart’s barrier. Sweat was beginning to form beneath her clothes. Terminus, wearing nothing, did not have this problem.
Emberglow turned her good eye toward him, resuming the conversation. “So, any luck on your project? Topaz won’t be mad either way, but still.”
“A bit, sort of,” he admitted.
A while ago, Terminus had admitted to the Elements during group therapy that he’d been feeling listless without any soldiering to do. Cooking and housekeeping were entirely different kinds of work. So, Topaz had encouraged him to find a hobby he enjoyed. But so far, nothing he’d tried really clicked. Emberglow hadn’t realized it was weighing on him quite this much, but “sort of” meant he probably had good news!
“Care to share a bit early?” she asked, gently curious.
His ears lowered. “It’s not a sport this time. You’ll think it’s foalish.”
Well, that wouldn’t do. Time to reassure him, lighten the mood again. “I doubt it. My idea of a foal’s pastime was going to medical school, remember?”
At this, he grinned a little. “Okay, Emberglow. I’ve been setting up some model trains.”
She blinked, slowing down just enough that he overtook her. Not quite the answer she’d been expecting. “Model trains?” Emberglow echoed.
“Yeah. It’s… oddly familiar. Building and painting them is reminiscent of cleaning and reassembling a rifle, only with more little wheels.”
Now Emberglow was grinning along with him. The mental image that evoked - of solid, unwavering Terminus Flash hunched over a worktable carefully painting the Crystal Empire Express in its official pinks and purples - was both deeply incongruous and deeply amusing.
Terminus glared over his shoulder at her. “Don’t laugh. It’s a perfectly respectable pastime.”
Emberglow took a deep, careful breath. “I w-wasn’t going to,” she insisted, barely holding herself together.
In response, Terminus flapped hard to the side, hip-checking her. Emberglow yelped in surprise, her trajectory shifting a good bit away before she could course-correct and return to her former relative position.
Terminus scrunched his muzzle and sighed.
Her ears fell. Now Emberglow felt badly for reacting the way she did, but she couldn’t help it! “I’m sorry, Terminus. But you have to admit it’s a little funny. I was expecting something like yeti wrangling or blacksmithing.”
“Really? Blacksmithing?” Now Terminus was smiling again, to her relief. He rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you’ve seen a pegasus in a forge? My feathers would get all singed!”
“Good point,” she admitted. Wings required enough personal maintenance as it was. It was worth it, though, to feel the rush of air moving past her like this, faster than any gallop. “Still, I’m sure the others will be more composed at the news than I was.”
Terminus hummed in agreement. With nothing further forthcoming, their conversation lapsed back into silence. Emberglow went back to taking in the green pastures below. Though they were smaller than many farms in the Diarchy, the sight of so much cultivated land gave her renewed appreciation for all the hard work earth ponies did to ensure the people had full bellies. It was a beautiful thing to see everycreature contributing what they could.
Soon, they reached the point which had long marked the midway point of their flights: a tall grain silo of varnished wood. Emberglow banked into a turn, arcing around the structure as if it extended many times as tall as it was, Terminus matching her movements. Then, without preamble, he picked up speed, putting more energy into each of his wingbeats and pulling ahead.
Time for the real workout. Emberglow followed suit, and they powered their way back to the Empire.
After Emberglow returned home, sore in a good way, the rest of her day proceeded as usual, for the most part. Lunch, a bit of time to herself as Rarity handled matters of state, checking her mail for anything notable, keeping Rarity company in her workshop, and then dinner.
Now, she and Rarity were arriving at the cozy private lounge where Topaz conducted their regular group therapy sessions. Unlike most of the castle, the lounge was carpeted, and there were plenty of couches suitable for sitting and reclining. Cheerful landscape paintings hung on each wall, and a skylight ensured the room was naturally illuminated.
Lofty and Topaz were already present, sitting side by side. Topaz was totally in her element, chipper and ready to facilitate with a clipboard in one hoof and a pen capped with a yellow smiley face in the other. True would be with Empress Cadance, learning to read and avoiding any potentially heavy subject matters that the Elements might discuss.
Lofty raised a hoof as she and Rarity entered. “Hello, you two! Ready for another riveting discussion about our persistent anxieties?”
Topaz elbowed him in the ribs as Emberglow’s lips curled upwards. “Stop leading with that!” Topaz protested. Her friend wasn’t actually angry; Lofty did this every time. And it wasn’t even accurate anymore. Their sessions were now mostly just a way of staying in touch coupled with affirmations that they were now much better.
As Topaz had once told her, the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, when properly remedied with therapy and medication, could be mitigated or made to vanish almost completely. Emberglow was certainly grateful for that; no longer did she hear the voices of deceased ponies whispering lingering words of guilt into her ears.
Her failures had not brought her low; they’d strengthened her. Enough that she’d helped stave off eternal winter. Even Rarity insisted she was a worthy successor to Applejack, brushing off any denials of such on Emberglow’s part. The last, lingering wisps of pain in her heart were kept at bay with everyone’s help.
Emberglow was brought out of her musings and back to the present by a nudge from her wife, whom she immediately followed over to the couch across from the one Topaz and Lofty occupied. Exhaling in contentment, she shimmied herself into Rarity’s side, basking in her touch.
“You two seem to be doing well,” Lofty noted, mirroring her motion and adding a nuzzle to Topaz’s cheek. “I’d ask how your week was, but Heartwing and Terminus are a bit late.”
“I’m sure they’ll be here in a moment,” Rarity reassured. “Celestia knows we’re all busy ponies.”
“Don’t I know it,” said Topaz. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Emberglow nodded firmly in agreement. So long as there were creatures that needed her help, she would be there. And Topaz was of the same mind.
Nevertheless, as if summoned, a crystal guard - one wearing the livery of House Cadenza - pushed open the door to admit Heartwing and Terminus, the latter pushing the former in his wood and metal wheel harness. Emberglow did a bit of a double take when she saw the looks on their faces. Heartwing seemed quite troubled by something, judging by his serious frown and narrowed brow, and Terminus’ expression showed obvious concern.
She wanted to ask what was wrong, but held her tongue. Topaz would doubtless broach the subject during the session. Stepping on the expert’s hooves would be counterproductive. Instead, she just waved to them.
“Hi there, we’re all glad to see you,” Topaz said, maintaining her gentle, practiced smile.
Rarity hummed in agreement. Emberglow knew her more than well enough to tell that she was also struggling not to jump the gun. The tension in her wing was a giveaway.
Glancing at Heartwing, his lips pursing momentarily, Terminus replied, “We’re happy to see you too, friends.”
Topaz simply waited patiently, even as Lofty glanced sidelong at her, his own brow now creased with worry. Terminus helped Heartwing up and settle into the plush sofa on Emberglow’s left.
Only once Terminus himself was seated did Topaz begin. “Alright then! The six of us are all here, so let’s get started. Per usual, I’d like us to start off by sharing one word with the group which summarizes how you’re feeling. Today, I’m feeling hopeful. I hope that everyone’s days are going well, and that if they’re not, they can trust others in their lives to support them with love however they need it.”
Then she paused, tapping her pen against the clipboard before turning to Heartwing. “Heartwing? Why don’t you go next?”
Emberglow’s gut, as well as her experiences with Heartwing, told her this wouldn’t be a simple issue. Echoing Topaz’s sentiments, she faced the stallion, ears perked.
Heartwing took a long time to answer, meeting each of their inquisitive gazes in turn, as if to judge whether or not this was a matter he could freely share. Or perhaps whether or not he should. For the first time in a while, Emberglow couldn’t place the emotion behind his eyes. Sadness? Fear? Disbelief?
Eventually, he answered. “I’m feeling… disturbed.”
Emberglow tensed.
When he failed to elaborate further, Topaz - maintaining her patient demeanor - continued. “And why are you feeling 'disturbed,' Heartwing?”
Terminus wordlessly draped a wing over his partner's back in support, but it still took Heartwing a few very long seconds to answer. “There’s a rumor spreading like wildfire through the Diarchy at the moment. And if it wasn’t for the fact that so many of my clandestine contacts thought it substantial enough to report up the chain, I would have dismissed it out of hoof as blatant fabrication.”
Pausing, he sighed in concession. “There are rumors down south, unsubstantiated as of yet, that the Saints have returned.”
Many heartbeats passed as Emberglow processed this. She turned the idea over in her mind. But before she could voice just how patently absurd that was, Rarity beat her to it. “I’m sorry, Heartwing, darling, but could you repeat that? It sounded like you said the Saints were back.”
“Oh, they’re definitely not our old friends,” Heartwing elaborated. “Their actions aren’t even close to how any of them would actually react to being thrust into this disharmonious future of ours. Otherwise we’d be hearing of a major ruckus from the Diarchy and not just rumors. Pinkie Pie’s antics alone would trigger a witch hunt,” he added, chuckling at his own joke.
“Really, Heartwing, that’s not funny,” said Lofty, who stared at him in disappointment. “This is supposed to be a space where we’re genuine with each other.”
“He wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Terminus insisted, even as his own doubts flickered across his face. Topaz was furiously taking down notes.
“I mean, yes, but…” Emberglow trailed off. It was just completely unbelievable, for multiple reasons. Heartwing seemed to be genuinely concerned, yes, and she trusted his judgment, but in this case he had to be jumping at shadows.
Right?
To prove her point, Emberglow rested her head against her wife’s. “Rarity is right here. The real Rarity, back after a millennium of stasis. Not the made-up earth pony Rarity written as propaganda for the Book. You were the one who taught me the truth!”
“Exactly,” agreed Lofty, his concerned gaze shifting away from her and back to Heartwing. “And say what you will about the ponies living in the Diarchy, but if there's one trait they all share, it’s some level of stubbornness. Even now, they still live their lives by the Book of Saints. Those who don’t have pretty much all left by now.”
Emberglow nodded at that, her thoughts reeling at a breakneck pace. She no longer had a copy of the Book, but as she sifted through her memory, she couldn’t recall anything about a prophesied day when the Saints would return. They were ostensibly watching from on high with the Diarchs. So then how exactly were so many ponies so convinced?
Before Emberglow could voice these questions, Topaz beat her to it. “Okay, and what exactly makes these rumors so believable?” Even she couldn’t keep the confusion off her expression any longer.
Heartwing tapped his hoof against the sofa. “Just to be clear, I don’t believe them yet, either. It’s just that according to my Discordant, others are saying that they believe the Saints are back. Because there have been reported sightings of - and interactions with - all six at different locations. Each matches their popular depictions in Diarchy statuary and artwork. And there’s a second Rarity among them.”
“So there’s an earth pony with my figure prancing about, is there?” posed Rarity, nonplussed. “I’m sure her uncanny resemblance to moi is entirely coincidental and not, say, a changeling copying my likeness. Because that wouldn’t be the first time.” She peered at Heartwing in concern. “I’m sorry to dismiss your worries, Heartwing, especially now, but this is simply too far-fetched.”
Heartwing started to frown, but pushed it away. Terminus clutched him tightly. “No, no, I understand how this sounds. But it’s not that simple. What do you think the first thing any Knight Vigilant who met them did?” he posed. “Whatever they are, they’re not changelings, veiled beneath illusions, or wild magic clones. And supposedly they can perform miracles, or at least cast spells without horns or gauntlets.”
“Seriously?” The question slipped out of Emberglow, the pace of her breathing accelerating. Everything about this situation was unbelievable, and yet it was somehow happening. There was zero chance these Saints were real, of course. If that were the case, then… She looked at Rarity, focused on where their bodies met. Rarity caught her gaze, and squeezed her reassuringly with a wing.
No. That was beyond consideration.
“So they tell me,” Heartwing said in reply before going quiet. There was a silence as the five of them processed the news.
The more she mulled it over, the more Emberglow found herself coming to one conclusion: She had to fly down to the Diarchy and see these supposed Saints for herself. One way or another, she had to uncover the truth and confront these convincing imposters for what they were. She couldn’t abide the thought of anypony else misleading ponies back down the path of hate, nor giving her beloved a bad name, or her Element wasn’t Honesty.
“I can certainly see why this news would be troubling to you,” Topaz noted, studying Heartwing and the rest of them carefully, salvaging what she could of their therapy session. “How do you feel we might be able to help?”
“Investigate the issue ourselves,” he answered matter-of-factly, clearly on the same page as Emberglow. His eyes narrowed. “I won’t be able to rest properly until I nip this desecration of their memory in the bud. The Knights Discordant may be trained for this, but they don’t know these mares like we do,” he added, giving Rarity a purposeful look.
“Indeed,” she agreed, determination writ large in her voice. “This is something which absolutely demands our attention. The sheer gall.”
“That would mean going to the Diarchy, though,” Lofty pointed out, running a hoof through his mane. “And neither of you are exactly popular over there. It would be incredibly dangerous for Heartwing especially, given his physical condition.”
“They’ll be too busy paying attention to these ‘Saints’ to care, I wager,” Heartwing said. “And I won’t be alone.”
“Yeah,” Terminus confirmed. “No chance I’m not going with him. I imagine it’s the same for you, Emberglow?”
As if it even needed to be said. “Where Rarity goes, I go,” she declared with conviction.
“I would never leave you behind,” Rarity declared. Emberglow met her subsequent loving sidelong glance with one of her own.
Lofty shot them a smirk, only half-forced. “I’d expect nothing less.” Then his expression soured once more. “However, I still think you should leave this to the others, Heartwing,” he insisted.
“I agree,” said Topaz, gesturing to him. “The others can fly away if there’s trouble, but…”
“I’ve evaded their grasp for this long, my friend. What’s another day or two dancing with danger?” Heartwing quipped. “And Termie will be watching my back, as always.”
Terminus met Topaz’s eyes, conveying the fire within his own, and she relented.
Lofty, though, did not. “I’m still far from convinced that it would be safe for you to do this, Heartwing. What if I went in your place? I’m more than capable in a fight in case events proceed in that direction, and you can only use half your limbs! I’d be very worried about you.”
Heartwing pursed his lips at Lofty. “I still have centuries more experience than everyone else in this room, a working horn, and the skill to use it. I’ll be fine, as always. Dealing with the unpredictable is still my forté. Besides, think about the logistics for a moment. If you waltzed into New Canterlot with a spear and gauntlet, you’d be stopped and questioned immediately, whereas I can just wear a large hat or something to evade detection.”
“He’s got you there, honey,” Topaz said, nudging Lofty in the side.
Sighing in defeat, Lofty turned to face Emberglow instead. “Aren’t you going to object to any of this?”
Emberglow shook her head. “I’m worried, too, but I trust Heartwing’s judgment. As for me, my wife seems to be decided, and there’s no chance I’m letting the world lose another alicorn, especially not this one,” Emberglow declared, pulling Rarity closer with a wing and planting a kiss on her cheek.
She cooed appreciatively in response. “I don’t doubt it,” Rarity said. “Still, my new students are going to be rather disappointed. Alas, I am needed elsewhere. Somepony has to remind the ponies down south what a real Rarity looks like.” She flipped her mane for dramatic affect.
“Regardless, this information stays confidential until further notice,” Rarity continued, changing the subject. “I trust our guards to maintain discretion, but if this news reaches the general public in the Empire, it could cause a panic. I’m sure Cadance and Sunset will agree; they should be informed, at minimum.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Heartwing said. “It also wouldn’t do to have all six of us be absent at once, as that would be equally concerning. If your colleagues want to disseminate the news further, that’s their prerogative.”
Topaz’s ears fell. “I suppose there’s no stopping you, is there? In that case, Lofty and I can stay here,” she suggested. “I don’t believe either of us have as much stake in the matter, right honey?”
“I guess not,” Lofty admitted. “Besides, I realize we can’t just leave True alone with Cadance at the drop of a hat. We’re his parents. He needs us.”
“That leaves the four of us to investigate, in two groups,” said Terminus, his tail flicking in deep thought. He turned to Heartwing.
“We can prepare to fly tonight and leave first thing in the morning,” Heartwing suggested. Emberglow could practically see the well-worn gears turning in his head. “While I can’t predict their movements for certain, the best places to look will likely be Old and New Canterlot. Emberglow, you’ve been building a rapport with the Knights Radiant, so you and Rarity can head to the Canterhorn. Terminus and I will fly for New Canterlot City. Assuming that’s acceptable, Princess?”
Rarity straightened and met his gaze, the fire in her eyes matching his. “It is, Heartwing. Emberglow?”
“Yes,” she said. She certainly didn’t have any better ideas.
“We’ll make sure the nation doesn’t collapse while you’re gone, Princess,” Lofty joked. Though his smile was clearly just pasted on to conceal dire misgivings.
“That settles it,” Terminus said, rising from the couch to all four hooves. “Time to get our ducks in a row and get moving.”
“I guess I'll have to postpone this session for later, huh?” said Topaz, stowing her notepad. “Hopefully this is all just a huge misunderstanding and we can all meet up again next week for a double length one, yeah?”
“Hopefully,” Heartwing agreed, as he allowed Terminus to help him back into his harness.
“Good luck, and take care,” bid Lofty.
Emberglow almost said goodbye, but the nature of the situation made her pause. It felt too needlessly final, or so said her superstition. So instead, she just reached forward and swept him up in a hug. The others joined in, and soon all the Elements were trading embraces in turn.
No more words needed to be said. They left the lounge to make their preparations for this new mystery that awaited them in the Diarchy. She’d unravel it one thread at a time. Hah, even Rarity’s choice in metaphors was rubbing off on her.
As they walked, Emberglow cast a sidelong glance at her, and Rarity looked back, full of care.
Whatever fate had in store for Emberglow, she wouldn’t be facing these ‘Saints’ alone, and that was all she needed to know they’d be alright.
The northern forests of Equestria, with their dark evergreen trees, mountain valleys, and small settlements, passed by far beneath Heartwing as he and Terminus sailed through the soft mid-morning light. Terminus was hooked up to his wheel harness via a pair of detachable steel tug lines, transforming it into a one-pony sky chariot.
It was just the two of them; Rarity and Emberglow had left later per his suggestion, so as to draw less attention from other pegasi by moving in smaller groups. He’d also prepared disguises, donning a thick but tattered hooded cloak to hide his horn and play the part of a tired old cripple, while Terminus wore an utterly ordinary shirt and trousers. If things went south, they would meet up at a safe house in burgeoning Old Canterlot.
Heartwing tried to be good company for Terminus, at first. Even if he couldn’t quell his own internal tension, coiled like a spring, Heartwing could at least try and keep his partner’s spirits up even slightly. But the situation was too serious, and Terminus continued to fly, focused, the silence between them a far cry from relaxed.
Trying to make one set plan with this many unknowns would be a fool’s errand, and Heartwing was no fool. At least not in the intellectual sense. If there was one thing all his experience had taught him, it was that some level of chaos was inevitable, but that chaos could be steered into the right direction.
He had one main worry which refused to leave his thoughts: What if the rumors were, against all logic, true? What if, by some miracle, his dearest love and source of strength had actually come back to life?
Chest twisting, he shifted anxiously. Would he freeze in awe, weeping? Spray fireworks from his horn and jump for joy, leaping into her forelegs? Be consumed by creeping, gnawing doubt about the rest of their new start together? All at once and more? Heartwing groaned, clenching his eyes shut.
No, it couldn’t be, Heartwing reassured himself, taking a deep breath. Surely, they were merely highly convincing impersonators trying to deceive the already indoctrinated citizens of the Dairchy for their own gain. A pony pretending to be a Saint would be able to bend the will of the people for all sorts of malicious ends.
So lost in his musings was Heartwing that he barely paid attention to the view. Neither the slow transition of the biome below to rolling hills and fields nor the motion of the sun across the heavens pulled at his focus. Even Terminus’ tail end, situated directly in front of him, had no effect.
Only the beginnings of a gradual descent combined with the sprawling city suddenly under his hooves drew Heartwing into full situational alertness. “Ah, it seems we’re here.”
“Yes,” said Terminus, glancing over his shoulder at him, his lips set in a line. “Bit for your thoughts?”
“I have too many bouncing around in my skull at the moment, my dear,” he replied, plastering on a forced grin. “Best we get to it promptly, for the sake of my sanity.”
“Is that really the only reason?” Terminus pointedly asked, staring into and through him.
Heartwing exhaled. Now was not the time to reopen this can of worms. “Yes, it is,” he insisted. “I’m treating this as a matter of national security for the Empire, and nothing more.”
Heartwing watched as Terminus turned this reply over in his mind for a long moment. “If you say so,” he sighed, turning back to face the sky ahead. “We’re talking after we grab lunch, though. And this was a long flight; I need to rest my wings.”
“Of course, of course. But who says we can’t do both at once?” If anything, sharing a meal would make them look less out of place as they eavesdropped, Heartwing reasoned.
“Yes, sir,” Terminus agreed, continuing his descent. The sudden shift to a more professional tone of voice stung Heartwing a little.
For myriad reasons, Heartwing hadn’t been to New Canterlot City in the flesh since that intense day two years prior, and much had changed besides the weather. Buildings that had been too damaged in the fighting had been torn down and replaced, while others had clearly been patched up to some degree. The storm had spared nothing, from pauper tenement houses to the largest manses.
No pegasi, Knight or otherwise, moved to intercept them as Terminus brought Heartwing down into a gentle landing on the street in a middle-class neighborhood of the same sort once common in Ponyville. Family businesses on the first floor, living spaces above, ponies going about their days and exchanging pleasantries. Neighbors made ordinary small talk about the weather and their hobbies, finding contentment in their unchanging routines.
However, as a Knight Vigilant passed by on patrol across the street, the mood shifted, bringing to the fore the true extent of the Diarchy’s difference from the old, harmonious norm: a lingering undercurrent of fear lying beneath surface-level happiness. Conversations ceased as he neared, lest he find some issue in their words. Heartwing bowed his head, both to feign respect for the authority the Knight represented and to better hide his horn. For while there weren’t that many ponies out and about in general, the total absence of unicorns among them was pronounced.
As Terminus unhooked himself from the wheel harness, Heartwing subtly scanned the street from beneath his hood. The place was nearly deserted, with most of the shops having CLOSED signs hanging in the windows.
“It’s too quiet,” Heartwing whispered, as Terminus turned all the way around. “Something is definitely going on.”
Terminus’ stomach rumbled. He blushed faintly, raising a solitary eyebrow.
“Right, right. Food first.”
They walked down the road at a decent clip, Heartwing’s wheels clacking against the cobblestones. An actual gallop was beyond him, but if they did need to make a run for it, he could build up plenty of speed in a straight line.
After two blocks, they found an open eatery. Terminus decisively beelined right for the entrance. Heartwing checked his peripheral vision for anything even slightly amiss as they approached.
The restaurant, Golden Pizza, could best be described as humble. With worn yellow paint on the outside walls and grease stains so numerous on the tables that Heartwing could see them clearly even through the windows, it seemed to be the closest thing to fast food in the Diarchy, by his reckoning. The sort of place Princess Twilight and Rainbow Dash would have loved, with their tastes for grease and carbs respectively.
At any rate, this place was perfect for their needs.
Brass hinges creaked loudly as Terminus held the door open for him. A portly orange earth pony stallion, seemingly the sole proprietor, spun from the large brick oven he was using to greet them. “Welcome to Golden Pizza.”
“Hello,” Heartwing said, glancing around the interior. They weren’t the only customers; a couple sat in the back, managing their fussy foals, and a trio of mares in very cheap-looking yet stylish outfits chatted amicably over their slices.
Terminus moved up to the counter and planted his hooves, scanning the chalkboard menu. Heartwing followed automatically.
Apparently satisfied with the state of the oven, the stallion smirked as he joined them. “Lemme guess: You heard the news and flew in from the next town over?”
“Exactly,” Heartwing replied, the half-lie emerging effortlessly. “Quite shocking, isn't it? I had to see for myself.”
“You and everypony else!” the chef confirmed, excited.
“Then why are you here?” Terminus asked.
“Saints or no Saints, ponies still gotta eat,” he said, gesturing to the other patrons. “The only thing more important to me than keeping the faith is keeping my neighbors fed.”
“Fair enough. We are hungry and appreciate the service,” Heartwing said, smiling truthfully. Diarchy citizen or not, you never disparaged a cook on an empty stomach.
“Thanks,” the chef replied. “So, what are you having?”
“Veggie Lover’s. Extra bell peppers,” Heartwing said. Honestly he didn’t care much for the peppers, but Terminus did, and a bit of charity wouldn’t hurt with things this tense. Terminus shot him a grateful look.
After passing over some bits, they sat down and waited for their order. Heartwing examined the trio of mares they’d spotted on the way in, sharing a knowing look with Terminus. They lapsed into patient silence, and beneath his hood, Heartwing swiveled his ears in the group’s direction.
“Like, I’m still feeling lightheaded after just seeing them!” said the first mare.
“For real, for real,” confirmed the second, nodding sagely in his peripheral vision. “And could you believe those robes? I’d never be able to pull off that look in a million years, even if I had the bits for enchanted fabric.”
“No way those are ordinary enchantments,” the first mare insisted. “They have to be gifts from the Diarchs.”
“Does it honestly even matter what they’re wearing?” the third mare posed. “Their bearing and words alone made me feel like a shameful little foal again.”
“Me too,” admitted the first mare, softly. “We’re unworthy to approach their greatness; it’s why we left, remember?”
“That, and the growing crowd was starting to make Polish uncomfortable,” the second mare said, turning to the third.
“Sorry,” Polish apologized, expression sinking.
“It’s fine, really,” said the first mare, placing a gentle hoof on Polish’s withers. “It’s not like we won’t get the chance to see them again later. Saint Twilight said that she and Saint Fluttershy would be in the city for a while. Just answering all the Knights’ questions at the New Star Shine Building is probably going to take a whole moon.”
Heartwing stiffened. The “Saints” certainly left an impression on these mares, regardless of the accuracy in their portrayal. Two of them were in the city, likely heading for the New Star Shine Building. And one of them was Fluttershy.
The thought of any version of Fluttershy entering that place sent shivers down what was left of his spine. Even without a fiendish Windigo containment contraption in a secret basement, it was still the headquarters of the Knights Mystic. A snake’s den of torturers and spies.
He was broken free of his thoughts once more by the sound of something being set in front of him. Terminus had returned with their pizza. Heartwing hadn’t even noticed him move.
Taking a slow, deep breath, Heartwing grabbed a slice and started eating. It was pretty good, all things considered, though just as greasy as he’d expected.
Terminus met his eyes, radiating concern, both for Heartwing and the news they’d just become privy to. But he ignored the look, projecting contentment. They couldn’t afford to blow their cover now. “This is great pizza,” he said.
After a beat, Terminus replied “It is.” Then, between bites, he asked the million bit question. “Are you going to say anything to the Saints when we see them?”
Taking his time, Heartwing methodically chewed, swallowed, and answered. For once, he actually quoted from the Book of the Saints. “Unto all ponykind, good or ill, I reveal the truth: To all, that which is deserved shall be given.”
Heartwing and Terminus proceeded into the core of the city, the Tower District, with Terminus in the lead. The closer they got, the more numerous the crowds became. First a trickle, and then a surge, all moving in the same direction like the rising tide. Only instead of the roaring surf against the rocks, this tide was punctuated by the susurrus of conversation. Within the growing mass, the two of them drew zero attention. All eyes were pointed forward.
Heartwing was keeping his wide open.
Soon, they could go no farther. The central plaza was packed with what had to be thousands of ponies all cramming themselves into the space by way of a huge circle. Heartwing had never seen so many Diarchy bodies in one place outside of combat. He looked to Terminus. “Three guesses as to who’s standing in the middle of that, and the first two don’t count.”
“The Saints,” he answered, eyes narrowed.
They moved in. The sheer number of ponies present was a testament to the Saints’ magnetism, whatever its purpose. There were many armored or robed Knights present, but none looked their way, even as Heartwing studied their makeup.
As expected, there were representatives from all four orders still fully loyal to the doctrine of the Diarchy among the throng. Jubilant, Vigilant, Adamant, and Mystic alike had joined the civilians, many staring in awe. Some mustered enough courage to shout words of praise or pleas for salvation, while others were genuflecting in adulation.
There were only a few exceptions with the wherewithal to try and maintain order. “No shoving, ponies!” shouted a Knight Vigilant. “And don’t hog space in front! For the love of all that is holy, show some respect!”
“Pegasi, take to hovering, clear some room!” instructed another Vigilant, already ascending into the air himself.
Terminus shot Heartwing a questioning look. Heartwing gestured wordlessly upwards with a slight motion of his head. Taking his cue, Terminus flew up a few dozen feet, joining the other pegasi in gazing upon the figures in the center of the crowd.
Heartwing couldn’t see how his partner was reacting from this angle, at first, while he looked ahead. Only after a few wingbeats did Terminus shift his gaze back down to Heartwing, his mouth set in a line as complex emotions warred on his face. Disbelief, anticipation, confusion, clear envy, a hint of grief. Then, he turned to face ahead again.
He could have tried to shout comforting words over the din, asking Terminus what was wrong. But the atmosphere was still too bleak. Heartwing’s words would have sluiced off again. Instead, he continued to approach. At this distance, ponies weren’t packed too tightly to circumnavigate, and, seeing his wheels plus his missing hind leg, many of them shifted slightly to the side to let him squeeze in.
His heart began to race in anticipation as he approached. With fewer ponies ahead of him, he began to catch glimpses of familiar hues. Each was a flash of fleeting moments long passed, phantoms once laid to rest now tearing their way free, each an aching nostalgic yearning as sweet and debilitating as the finest vintage.
Then fragments of two voices reached his ears. One he had heard much of recently, coming from Rarity’s gifted information-storage construct. That voice, though, had been bereft of emotion, unlike the one that wafted over the heads of the ponies in front of him. Whether that emotion was genuine remained to be seen.
The other stirred a centuries-dormant longing in his breast.
Before he knew it, he was through. Heartwing choked on his own breath, for there stood Fluttershy.
The likeness was immaculate. She was in her prime, appearing around as old as the time they’d met, her butter-yellow coat and long, pink mane and tail perfectly maintained. Her body was covered by a one-shouldered garment in the style of ancient Pegasopolis, a toga, stola or something of the sort. The garment shimmered with an ever-shifting gradient of soft greens, blues, and pinks, as if the aurora borealis itself had been pulled down from the northern sky and wrapped around her.
Next to her stood Twilight, wearing a matching garment. She, too, was the spitting image of the mare who had been his irreplaceable friend, save for the lack of a horn upon her brow. Also present by their sides were two tall, bipedal creatures that looked to be made out of silvery metal and some sort of black material. Their limbs were too thin for them to be covered in armor, even for an Abyssinnian. Magically animated golems, perhaps? It didn’t matter; his focus was on Fluttershy.
Currently, she was talking to somepony on the opposite side of the crowd, standing with Saint Twilight and the others near the center of an empty space about fifty feet across in the core of the plaza. Whether out of intimidation or respect, the ponies had given them room. “Why, yes, I was indeed with the Diarchs all these years,” said Fluttershy. “They’re both truly wonderful. All ponies should strive to be righteous in this life and the next, so that they might meet them one day.”
Heartwing stared. Listened. Scrutinized.
With that question answered, more voices immediately chimed in. But the loudest was a stallion. “Saint Fluttershy!” he exclaimed. She turned to face him, and he continued. “My sister’s in the marine corps, and she was supposed to be back from her tour in the Dragonlands by now. Can you tell me if she’s alright?”
“I’m sure your sister is fine, sir,” Fluttershy said, voice gentle but firm. “And if not, I’ll be certain to deal with those responsible.”
Inhaling with an audible gasp, the stallion dropped into a low bow before retreating deeper back into the group. He was immediately replaced by another, the colt’s lanky body barely qualifying him as such.
“My Saint,” began the colt, ears folded in desperation, “Mama’s kennel got hit by lightning in an accident last week and burnt down! Now all the shelter dogs don’t have a place to sleep, but we don’t have the money to rebuild. I don’t care about us, but we need a miracle to restore it, for the pups! Please, Saint Fluttershy?” he pleaded, bowing.
“Healthy dogs are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves,” the Saint replied, her tone clipped. “If a work of fate destroyed the kennel, then perhaps a member of your family did something to incur the ire of the Diarchs. If you renew your faith and work hard to rebuild, you might find the brand new kennel is better for it.”
The longing in Heartwing’s chest fizzled out, replaced with a growing heat. The pony before him was not the same mare he’d once known. Her mannerisms were wholly different; Fluttershy never would have promised retribution like that, let alone ignore homeless puppies. This mare was not his Fluttershy. She was a Saint, icon of the faith, plucked from the Book and made flesh. And he was far from faithful. His blood began to boil and his thoughts whirled.
Heartwing forced himself to resume focus as his brows furrowed beneath his hood. He’d missed something, and now Saint Fluttershy was exchanging a look with the golem-thing next to her. It had the number ten painted in white on both sides of its faceless head. Or were they helmets? Their shape was unusual; it was hard to tell. The other creature, accompanying Twilight, bore the number one, but was otherwise indistinguishable.
If Saint Fluttershy had spoken to it, she had done so too softly for him to hear. She was now back to addressing the clamor of impromptu petitioners and supplicants. Her next focus was a young pegasus mare, frantically waving her hooves overhead. “Yes?”
The mare practically swooned upon being acknowledged. “Lady Fluttershy, you’ve always been my role model, and I really, really want to join the Knights Angelic, but I was wondering, do you approve of the direction the order has taken since being rebuilt?”
Saint Fluttershy didn’t even stop to think before answering. “While they’re certainly far from the contemptible heretics my original order regrettably became, as genuinely consorting with non-ponies is a grievous sin, the new Knights Angelic do need my guiding hoof. To truly serve their purpose, they should take a more proactive approach and rejoin the Diarchy, serving as I originally intended. Even injured and meek, other creatures are to be feared, lest they divide us.”
She extended a foreleg upwards, continuing. “You have the enthusiasm and thoughtful devotion of a truly exemplary pony. Should you succeed in your training, I would be glad to have you as a Knight, young one.”
The mare beamed, her s wings buzzing with joy. “Eeeee, thank you! I’ll make you proud, my Saint!”
Simultaneously, The heat within Heartwing burned brighter and brighter until all he could feel was pure, unadulterated rage. His limbs began to shake as his restraint quickly began to evaporate.
Fluttershy championed those who were suffering, the only group she had never been afraid of. This caricature before him was a twisted joke, one that had more than run its course. And he could contain himself no longer.
“YOU’RE NOT FLUTTERSHY!” Heartwing screamed with his entire being, almost tearing his throat raw.
Every other voice went quiet as his outburst drew everypony’s attention. He didn’t care, breaking through the invisible circle of reverence which kept the other ponies at bay.
The quiet shattered as quickly as it had come, with overlapping cries of “Nonbeliever!” and “Of course she is!” assaulting his ears. Some ponies even leaped after him, ready to tackle the audacious, broken fool they thought he was and drag him away.
However, the Saints themselves were not among them. Saint Twilight turned away from the white-maned Mystic Inquisitor she’d been speaking with to face him, expression inscrutable. Saint Fluttershy simply glanced up at the figure standing by her side, and it raised a metallic hand, quickly tracing runes in the air.
Before Heartwing could be assaulted, a chartreuse dome of magic appeared around him, and a dozen hooves bounced off its surface. Was he saved, or was he trapped? Too late to go back now. Terminus must have been worried sick. Still, he did not take his eyes away from the Saints.
As the Saints and their golems approached, the Diarchy ponies he’d offended stepped back slightly while still watching him warily all the while.
Once she’d gotten close enough, Saint Fluttershy spoke. “And who are you to make such an accusation?” she asked, her stolen voice having taken a curious tone.
Heartwing couldn’t hold in the smirk. “Someone who knew her in life,” he declared, before throwing off his cloak.
This time, the onlookers all repeated the same word: “Unicorn!”
Saint Fluttershy’s ears turned briefly in the direction of the loudest among them before returning to focus on Heartwing. Her tail swished once to the side. “I see. So you doubt not just me, but all of us. The whole of our teachings.”
“Of course I do,” he seethed, not breaking eye contact. “You’re clearly impostors. And the teachings you uphold are all twisted lies. If you read the Friendship Journal, you’d know that.”
The creature bearing the number one spoke, with a gruff mare’s voice. “This pony is clearly a problem, my Saint. Should I take care of him?”
Heartwing ignored her, his gut churning with displeasure as his legs locked in fury. The sweat beading across his back in fear and heat went ignored. He would say his piece, dammit.
“How dare you pretend to be my friends - sully their names even further,” Heartwing hissed through gritted teeth. “I don’t care what you’re trying to achieve here, whoever you are, but I will not tolerate this. They were good ponies who extended a hoof in friendship to all kinds, not violent xenophobes who imposed their will on others through fear and force!”
This would be the part where he blasted them with the Elements of Harmony, were they present. Instead, he keenly felt their absence, and even the small but noticeable distance between himself and Terminus. They found their true strength together. Now, he faced them alone.
Saint Fluttershy’s brow creased at his impassioned words, though she held her tongue.
Saint Twilight, however, did not, the mare unmoved by his display. “No, Archpaladin. The opinion of one misguided stallion changes nothing. Yet I must make it clear: we are the Saints of yore,” she declared.
Without warning, a pillar of stone rose beneath her hooves, elevating her such that she loomed over Heartwing.
He stared in stunned silence. There had been no indication at all of any magic being cast, by her or any of the others. It had just happened.
Also, a small part of him observed, Twilight never loomed. She’d endeavored to keep herself approachable. Besides, she’d never been any good at it. Humility had been ingrained deeply within her.
Saint Twilight seemed to take no satisfaction in her new position. Her expression was unreadable, her lips a thin line. However, she did project her voice, addressing the crowd as well as Heartwing. “We have been given a task by the Holy Diarchs on high, granted new life to fulfill this purpose! Just as they have guided you, I shall guide my fellow Saints as the six of us shepherd this country back onto the path of true righteousness!”
Everypony was listening, rapt. Even Heartwing, still seething, could not bring himself to interrupt. If nothing else, he’d learn their plans.
“No longer will lesser creatures besiege our borders from without, for mighty Paladins shall defend you!” Saint Twilight continued, spreading her wings wide. “No longer will unicorns threaten to tear apart our unity from within! The Diarchs, acting through me, will usher in a new golden age of peace, order, and happiness! Under my leadership, miraculous blessings await!”
Once it was clear she’d finished her speech, the crowd erupted into cheers, hollering in joy. But Heartwing’s ears fell. Whoever was wearing Twilight’s face as a mask, they were clearly aiming to take charge.
It would mean another war.
Heartwing could easily teleport out of this net of bodies, but he would never leave Terminus behind. But where was his partner? Perhaps Terminus was waiting for his signal while keeping his eyes peeled for a sneak attack? Or could he be as emotionally overwhelmed by these events as Heartwing was?
Acting on this line of thought, Heartwing raised a forehoof high in a beckoning motion as the cheering died off. “An excellent plan,‘Saint.’” He put as much sarcasm as he could muster into the word as he looked up at the mare. “Too bad it’s been tried before, and recently, I might add. But my friends and I stopped Steadfast Word, and we’ll stop you, too.”
“You cannot,” Saint Twilight said matter-of-factly. The pillar she was standing on retreated back into the earth, and she turned to face the number ten golem thing - the Paladin - who was holding him captive. “Release him,” she ordered.
Heartwing blinked, slowly. That was about the last thing he’d expected. But neither the Paladin nor Saint Fluttershy objected, and the Paladin wordlessly dismissed their shield. He probably could have broken out of it shortly - shields tended to weaken with distance - but still, he wasn’t complaining.
Immediately, the ponies who had tried to attack him previously stalked forward. By now there were more Knights among them, weapons raised to cut him to ribbons. More than one was calling for his head. Heartwing eyed them carefully. At the same time, a familiar black shape began diving through the air, rushing to his side.
Terminus reached him before anypony else could, coming in for a skidding landing. He took up position at Heartwing’s back, covering him. “That was incredibly reckless,” Terminus said, teeth clenched, before adding, “I almost did the same thing.”
Managing a small smile, Heartwing eyed the mob that had them cornered. They were currently unarmed, vastly outnumbered, and far from safe territory. Not the best odds, but he’d faced worse. He lit his horn.
But Saint Twilight raised a hoof. “Let them leave.”
It took a second for what she’d said to sink in. Heartwing gawked in disbelief.
The townsponies and Knights reacted similarly, protesting their Saint’s orders and calling for blood.
“There’s such a thing as being too merciful!”
“What? You must reconsider!”
“He needs to be punished!”
One had a longer argument. “But they’re infidels! And you were the one who said ‘any righteous action, taken in defense of the faith, is just and sanctified’ in the Book!”
“My little ponies, do not immediately resort to violence against your fellow pony,” instructed Saint Twilight, stepping closer. “In this case it may be justified, but that does not mean it is ideal. Violence should still be the last resort. This stallion must be the one known as Heartwing whom I’ve heard much about: he leads a large organization, and harming him would almost certainly provoke a military response. Besides,” she continued, “this is a punishment; the harshest one I can administer.”
Her cold gaze turned to Heartwing. “No matter what these heretics try to achieve, they will ultimately fail, for the strength of the divine is absolute. That shall be their punishment: to look on from afar, helpless to affect change. Their lives will be spent reflecting on their many misdeeds as their false ideology crumbles around them and the rest of ponykind is brought to salvation under the will of the Diarchs.”
Ice prickled across Heartwing’s body. The look in her eyes… there was not a trace of doubt in those violet pools. It was as if she could see the future and know their fate for certain.
Heartwing took a breath and steeled himself. Destiny could be defied. That he was no longer the Spirit of Chaos proved as much. That he was no longer whatever he had been before becoming the Spirit of Chaos proved it as well.
He tried hard to never think of those days.
Regardless, he would continue to fight fate, if fate was on Saint Twilight’s side.
After a long pause, the Knights and others surrounding him and Terminus backed off, sheathing their weapons. Some among the crowd started stomping their hooves in approval, and soon everypony was cheering for their returned savior. Disturbed, Heartwing turned to give one final look to the false Fluttershy. She was smiling, proud of her sister in Sainthood. Paladin Number Ten somehow gave off the impression that they were analyzing him.
Shivering, he spun towards Terminus. “L-Let’s go.” There was nothing more to do here.
“Yeah,” Terminus said, ears flicking urgently.
Nopony accosted them physically as they harnessed Heartwing’s wheels to Terminus again. That did not stop many ponies from berating them verbally, however, even as the two Saints had put the matter behind them and were already back to interacting with the masses and making glacial progress towards the New Star Shine Building.
Before anypony decided to change their minds about attacking, Terminus took to the sky, flapping with strong wingbeats to take them almost straight up. One pony threw a rutabaga at Heartwing and missed. “And don’t come back, scum!” somepony else shouted.
Peeking over his shoulder, Heartwing was glad to see no pegasi pursuing them. Their obedience as a collective was greater than their hatred, even for the most zealous, it seemed. But he was all out of shock after everything that had just happened, leaving only emptiness and confusion. “You okay?” Terminus asked, once they were high up enough to be out of earshot. “Because I’m definitely rattled.”
Heartwing frowned. The sun’s warmth somehow felt oppressive as they flew. “You and me both, Terminus.”
“Be good now, you hear?” the guard said, as he ushered Lady Turquoise, Knight Jubilant, back into her cell.
Turquoise did not know his name. They rotated too often, and didn’t often introduce themselves. What she did know, very intimately by this point, was her cell. With practiced motions, she undid the straps on her wheels and hauled herself onto her cot. By the time she had, the other prisoners had also been locked in, and the guard departed.
It was time to resume her self-imposed task. Now that they were back in their cells, her two crystal pony neighbors could not escape from her sermons.
The Book, her faith, was correct. Any alternative spat on a thousand years of history. If her ceaseless efforts could guide even one soul down the path of truth, it would be worth it. And Turquoise still knew that path in its exactness.
With her efforts here, she could make up for her mistakes, in some small way. What she’d failed to do before she could achieve now. Her destiny might not yet be lost.
It couldn’t be. Without that hope, she was nothing.
Any doubts would be smothered in verse.
Clearing her throat, Turquoise picked up her Book of the Saints from where it rested on her splintering, rickety table. She turned to Mirror Facet, the shiny, silver-coated mare groaning in annoyance from across the bars. The linen of her prison garb chafed at Turquoise’s back as she moved. She’d focused on her other neighbor, Cubic Lattice, yesterday, and both were potential converts.
“I know they were trying to show compassion, but I really wish the palace staff hadn’t given you a copy of that book,” Mirror sighed.
Turquoise’s eyes flicked downward, and her grip on its pages tightened. It’s presence gave her comfort, even if it wasn’t her treasured personal copy. This one had been printed as a lowly paperback instead of the hardcover it warranted!
Still, Mirror’s demeanor would not deter her. “Let us begin with another passage from the Book. The Diarchs spoke to Saint Applejack, saying ‘You shall go to the town north of the forest wild, and there you shall find a plague of deceit which must be cured, otherwise the lives of good mares and stallions might be lost.’ And Saint Applejack listened.”
Mirror Facet groaned, slamming her face into her pillow. “Ugh, not this one again, you nutcase. I get it, scamming creatures is a bad idea, I’m already in the freaking dungeons!”
“But you must internalize why doing so is wrong. Show real remorse,” Turquoise explained patiently. “Otherwise, you may make further incorrect moral judgments in the future.”
“This was never an issue of morals, you already know I wanted to help ponies. I just didn’t have the money to pay for law school, despite it literally being my special talent!” she insisted. “Besides, you’re one to talk about showing remorse! Didn’t you—”
Turquoise’s ears fell. Don’t let her say it.
Shaking her head once, Turquoise cut her off, continuing. “After a journey of many days, the Saint arrived. When she did, she found the town in a buoyant state. A duo of salescolts were distributing an elixir to the worn and battered residents. They claimed the elixir was blessed by the Diarchs themselves, and had the power to cure any ailment. And so they sold many bottles.”
Mirror Facet turned away, her ears folding down as she made a point of trying as hard as possible to ignore Turquoise. But this was as much for herself as it was for Mirror, so she kept going.
“Saint Applejack, in her eloquence, explained to the ponies that this was a lie. ‘The Diarchs granted ponykind knowledge of different medicines to cure what ails them. There is no singular cure for all sickness. This is either a false promise or, worse, zebra witchcraft, which will afflict you with curses.’ However, only the wisest amongst those present listened to her. The rest continued to believe the wicked words of the salescolts.”
Turquoise turned to the next page. “One such pony was a beloved elder, strong of will but weak of body. After taking the elixir, she incorrectly judged that her age-begotten frailties had vanished. ‘I wish to frolic about in the river as I did in my youth,’ she said, and leapt into the water. However, her limbs lacked the strength to fight the current, and she was swept away, drowning before any noble pegasi could save her.
“Upon discovering her, washed up on the riverbank, the ponies of the town realized their error, and were as furious at the salescolts as they were ashamed of the fact they had not heeded Saint Applejack’s words. Their cries of regret reached the ears of the Diarchs, and they transformed the ill-gotten coin of the terrible colts into a golden viper, which bit both of them before slithering away into the woods.”
“What a waste of precious bits,” quipped Guzuko, the griffon hen from Turquoise’s neighboring cell. Turquoise ignored her. Even if she hadn’t been forbidden to interact with her kind, she wouldn’t have. Disgusting carrion-eaters, the lot of them. The griffon could earn salvation in her next life.
They probably couldn’t even feel guilt. At least, not in the way Turquoise did, like waves lapping at the shore, slowly eroding every wall she built. She pressed on, ignoring that errant thought.
“As the pair of evildoers writhed on the ground in pain, the venom eating through their flesh, Saint Applejack gestured to their remaining stock. ‘It seems you are in need of a cure. Why not imbibe your miraculous elixir?’ she proposed.
“Through their anguish, they replied in unison. ‘We were deceiving everypony! The elixir’s power is a fabrication we devised to scam those too trusting out of their wealth!’ Saint Applejack and the townsponies did not move to aid them. Thus did the Saint impart her wisdom: ‘Then take this lesson with you into your next lives: Do not make untrue claims of your works, lest you bring about great misfortune for yourselves and others.’ And so the virtue of Honesty was reaffirmed.”
“Again, there’s no chance that’s what happened,” Mirror Facet insisted, shooting Turquoise a look over her shoulder. “You’ve been indoctrinated by hostile rhetoric, dumbass. The kind ponies of that era’s Equestria wouldn’t have just sat back and watched as two stallions died of snake bites for any reason. Doesn’t matter if it was murder or an accident. You want me to cite the legal definitions of each?”
“Oh, please, stop interacting with her already,” Cubic Lattice chimed in before Turquoise could respond, tapping her sapphire hoof on her table. “She won’t let us do anything else until she’s finished. And I’d like to have the chance to hear myself think, today.”
Turquoise welcomed the interference. It gave her something to focus on besides what Mirror had said. She frequently rebuked the content of the Book, as heretics did, and these rebuttals disturbed her. Made her question, in a way that was growing more and more difficult to ignore. A churning in her stomach, a dreadful retrospection.
No, that would not do. She took a breath. Focus on your charges. Your mission.
“Thinking? About what?” Turquoise posed. “We’re in prison; there isn’t much to think about besides how exactly you wound up in here and why. I’ve done plenty of that, myself, and it’s far from pleasant or illuminating.”
“Oh? Care to share? I could go for some schadenfreude,” Cubic said with a smirk, crossing her hooves behind her head as she reclined on her threadbare cot.
“Yeah, that I would appreciate,” echoed Guzuko, who folded her wings.
Turquoise, however, frowned. The churning redoubled as her focus returned inward.
Yes, she had done a lot of self-reflection on that during her time here over these past two years, as well as a lot of listening.
Even in prison, she heard rumors. From what she’d overheard, her comrades had eventually succeeded in slaying the abomination Flurry Heart, only for two more “alicorns” to take her place. One claimed to be the Great Heretic Sunset Shimmer, and the other the false Rarity who had landed Turquoise in this situation to begin with. Neither mare had been that manner of creature in life, and to present otherwise was utter nonsense.
Now, this Rarity was helping run the Empire. Yet while she had risen, Grandmaster Steadfast Word and Grandmaster Proud Stone had fallen. It left a sour taste in her mouth. The Diarchy was surely on the side of justice, so how had her brothers- and sisters-in-arms failed so spectacularly?
How had she failed so spectacularly? Was it her mistake siding with Steadfast, even though he’d sounded so reasonable, tasking her with the mission that had led to both of them being struck down, crippled and caged?
Was it even further back, when she let her friend fall from her Radiant place?
Turquoise still didn’t know the real reason why she’d had to lose everything, and it ate at her.
Of course, she wasn’t about to admit all this to them.
She shoved her introspection aside, returning her attention to her fellow prisoners. “Is reveling in the suffering of others how you cope with the repetitive nature of this continued existence, settled upon us like a shroud?
“Every day here is indistinguishable from the last. Wake up, eat the provided breakfast, stretch in the exercise courtyard, eat the provided meals, sleep, repeat. It seems that this depressing place has gotten to you, without faith to buoy your spirits,” she noted.
“See, Cube? As if that’d work,” Mirror said, rolling her eyes. “All this lady does is recite verses at us or start lecturing like this. She’ll just keep going anyway.”
“That’s not true, I don’t only proselytize,” Turquoise insisted. “I also pray in silence. For my country, my family, the salvation of all who might stray.”
Mirror’s brows furrowed as she stared more intently at her. “And you believe that’s enough, after everything? I’ll state it plainly, since you clearly didn’t catch on: you’re a hypocrite, Turquoise. The officers literally offered to move you into a special condominium for house arrest because of your condition, and you refused. Because of all the ‘good behavior’ you’ve shown, they said all you’d needed to do was apologize. Express some form of regret for your actions. And you couldn’t even do that.”
Turquoise sighed. They didn’t understand. “Of course I have regrets. Who doesn’t? But I don’t care about the ability to cook my own food, make my own schedule, or wear actual clothes next to my pride and dignity as a Knight. It’s the one thing that wasn’t stolen from me.”
There was the tiniest hint of uncertainty in her mind as she said it, though she kept it from creeping into her voice.
Even her faith threatened to slip away from her, the longer she spent trapped in this accursed city. Having another pony from home to talk to would have helped, but Turquoise hadn’t even gotten any letters. Her family and friends had probably been told she’d been killed in the line of duty.
She pushed herself as upright as she could, projecting her voice. “The abominations needed to be purged, and I was glad to carry out the task,” Turquoise declared, speaking it into truth. “Even if you would have taken that deal, I refuse to compromise my principles for mere creature comforts. I shall gladly endure these indignities if it means the Diarchs and Saint Pinkamena will reward me for my faith, in this life or the next.”
“Really?” Guzuko said, her annoyed expression somehow twisting further. “And I thought this mare was insane after she tore into Lute over a bit of PDA. Seriously, who constantly calls a couple of friends with benefits ‘heathens’ and spits in their face?”
Turquoise still did not dignify the griffon with a response. They’d been a homosexual and interracial couple, deserving only of her contempt.
And yet, the picture they’d painted had made Turquoise… curious. The Book said one thing, but the daily lives of these creatures said another. It was heresy of the highest order, plain to see, yet Lute and Guzuko had seemingly gotten along without issue.
It was the same with unicorn magic around the palace grounds. That art was also abundant, and seemed to better many lives.
At first, it seemed to be madness, but after two years of being subjected to such sights and gossip, it had almost begun to sound reasonable.
And that terrified her.
Indeed, none of this blatant sinning led to the destruction of ponykind. The Empire was currently not at war with any other nation, and despite all the heretical freedoms, freedoms which should have led to lawless anarchy, ponies actually seemed… happier.
Even this prison was far smaller than any she’d ever heard of back home, the creatures interred within the exceptions rather than the rule. In fact, Turquoise had been incarcerated here longer than almost anyone else. Most of the other prisoners served very short sentences, for acts such as repeated thievery or getting into brawls after one too many cups.
Well, excluding those within the maximum security section. Turquoise had passed its thick, enchanted crystal door almost daily during her time here. However, she’d never seen the inside, and could only imagine what sort of inequine monsters these heathens considered to be dire threats.
The alternative, that it held ponies of the Diarchy not so different from herself, was far worse to contemplate.
Lost in her musings, she nearly missed Cubic Lattice chiming in. “Eh, she used to be more insufferable as a cellmate, even with her ass-backwards values,” she begrudgingly noted. “At least Turquoise agreed to my idea of passing the time with science texts.”
Guzuko snorted, her glare still promising vengeance upon Turquoise. Cubic, meanwhile, didn’t seem to care.
It had been a good idea, regardless of the morally dubious source, Turquoise admitted internally. She would have risked losing her worldliness and the Book its context otherwise. Science specifically was fine, but anything more would be tainted with heresies, views of morality and implied instruction on life contradictory to the Book’s.
Yes, the only instructions Turquoise, or anyone, needed to follow were those laid down by the Diarchs and their Saints. She couldn't afford to let their small kindnesses lull her into a false sense of appreciation, allow her to be corrupted like Emberglow was.
Turquoise was still perfectly fine.
“Forget the textbooks,” began Mirror, her tone mischievous. “In my professional assessment, what this girl really needs is to get some action for once. Like, what are the odds a mare who’s so stiff she doesn’t bat an eye at killing on orders has ever gotten laid? Bet she’d loosen up and relax if somebody showed her all the best parts of life she’s been missing. Any volunteers?”
As Guzuko and Cubic laughed at her expense, Turquoise bristled.
“I will not be led astray, no matter how long I’m held captive, or what you people tell me about the city beyond these cells,” she replied, this close to seething. “So there’s no need to continue blaspheming or pressing me any further.”
Cubic and Mirror were misleading her somehow. They had to be.
As if they actually cared, as her comrades did.
Abandoning her efforts at converting them for the day, she laid back down and rolled onto her side, facing away. She shut her muzzle and tried to calm down. Whatever they did next, Turquoise tuned out. Her sermon was long over.
The sun eventually dipped below her high window, shrouding the mare’s wing of the dungeon in deep gray. Her dinner’s flavors, brought to her, were equally drab.
Hers was a state of limbo, biding time until something changed. Maybe the rest of the alicorns would go mad and kill each other, or the Diarchs would cleanse the land in holy fire.
Until then, she would find security and peace of mind through her continued worship. In worship, all her worrisome thoughts were banished, or at least shoved into the recesses of her mind. In worship, she could not hear the doubt that threatened to poison her belief. The notion that, maybe, the faith itself was but a construct, her life a lie.
No. Turquoise shook her head, hard. All these contradictions made her thoughts twist in ways she could not bear. She had to get back to reading in the dim light. Soon, she’d have the entire text memorized, their meaning painstakingly etched into her very bones.
Despite the scratchy sheets, another indignity Turquoise had become accustomed to, the call of sleep soon claimed her, an identical tomorrow beckoning.
Rippling pain from her side quite literally knocked Turquoise awake. She let out an undignified yelp of surprise, her eyes shooting open at the possibility she was being attacked. And here it is, she thought, despite her grogginess. The empire is showing its true colors at last.
Turquoise was surprised to discover that it was still the middle of the night. Faint moonlight streamed in through the windows, casting the metal and stone in a dark blue pallor. But the truly unusual sight was the bipedal figure looming next to her. Her self-satisfaction gave way to apprehension. A cold chill rushed along what was left of her spine.
“W-Who are you?” Turquoise asked, pushing herself back as she squinted to try and make out more details. “D-Don’t hurt me!”
“I will not hurt you. I am a Paladin; I serve the Saints,” the figure - a she - replied. Her voice was tinny, as if she was speaking through a thick metal helm. “I was sent to take you back to the Holy Equestrian Diarchy.”
Turquoise stared in bewilderment. Her attention flicked momentarily to the cell door.
It had been flung totally open.
Eyes wide, she looked back to the so-called Paladin.“I’m not dreaming, am I?”
“No,” said the Paladin, reaching forwards to pinch her ear between fingers that were hard and coarse, almost like scales. To Turquoise’s amazement, it stung!
Between her eyes adjusting to the light and the reduced distance between them, Turquoise could make out the Paladin’s form in detail. Her body was all hard lines and overlapping plates, too large to be scales but too small to be a suit of armor. She almost looked too thin to be stable while upright. A body that was rigid yet devoid of imperfections, a marionette given fluid life, carved in seamless black and purest silver.
If she hadn’t spoken to her, Turquoise would have thought the Paladin a frightful metal monster of unsettling artifice. But her higher faculties overrode her instincts as mind raced frantically.
Was this some new initiative in the Diarchy, one that created better knights who could walk upright? Or had she actually come down from heaven? Had the Lunar Diarch crafted this being from dreamstuff? The creature was too alien for a rational explanation.
Buoyed with elation and burgeoning curiosity, Turquoise rapidly climbed into her wheels and quickly straightened her mane with a few passes of her brush. “H-How did you even get in here? Infiltrating a place like this must be supremely difficult with all the security.”
The Paladin did not answer her question. “Looks like you’re ready. Good. Wait a moment,” she said before unceremoniously leaving her cell for the next.
Taking this in stride, she turned to look at the Paladin through the bars and bowed her head for a moment to show her gratitude before stepping out into the hall. Turquoise watched as she traced a rune spell to unlock the rest of the occupied cells and then jostled everyone else awake, prompting a series of surprised shouts.
Once she had everyone’s attention, the Paladin spoke again, gesturing to Turquoise. “I’m breaking her out and taking her back to the Holy Equestrian Diarchy. Those of you who wish for salvation, or if you just want to be free again, come with me.”
None of the three other prisoners present shared Turquoise’s enthusiasm. “I think I’m good, thanks,” said Cubic Lattice, her voice conveying sarcasm even as her eyes were wide with surprise. To Turquoise, it came across as a thinly veiled defense mechanism. “I’ll be back with my family in a few months.”
“And wind up a third-class citizen? Hard pass,” said Guzuko, her eyes narrowed even in the dark. “I’m not afraid of you, crazy evil freak thing. Good luck escaping the city and then trekking all the way there when her legs don’t work, dumbass,” she added, pointing to Turquoise.
Mirror Facet definitely was afraid, the mare shaking on the floor against the far wall of her cell. Turquoise pitied her.
“They don’t deserve your generosity anyway,” Turquoise decided, impressed that she was actually willing to offer such charity. “Especially if they can’t tell the holy from the monstrous.”
The Paladin hummed at that, then turned for the exit, beckinging Turquoise to follow. The moment was so surreal, Turquoise nearly tripped over her own hooves. Her former cellmates were quiet now, save for the faint sound of Mirror’s rapid, terrified breathing. In the sudden near-silence, Turquoise’s hoofsteps rang loudly on the stone floor with her squeaking wheelchair in contrast to the Paladin’s deathly silent gait.
They carefully passed through the heavy door to the cell block, into a hall illuminated by wall sconces. The night guard was slumped in an ungainly manner over the watchmare’s desk, unconscious.
More important, Turquoise concluded, was the Paladin herself. It was definitely clear now that she wasn’t a normal creature at all, but rather a divine avatar sculpted of gleaming metal using techniques beyond mortal ken. Turquoise gaped in amazement. “May I ask you name, Paladin?”
“Not important,” she said, moving towards the entrance to the stallion’s wing. She tapped the side of her faceless head, where the number four was sharply displayed. “You can call me by my rank if you want. Paladin Four.”
Her rank? The number? Did she not have a name, an identity? Was that what one needed to do, to be a true servant of the Diarchs? Revoke everything except belief in the words of the Saints?
Turquoise figured that neither she nor anypony else alive was capable of that.
The thought opened the floodgates. There were so many questions about the Paladin. Where had she been before this night? Why now, and why not in equine form? Had Turquoise somehow earned this? Because she didn’t feel like she had.
Turquoise had so much to ask, yet she held her tongue. There would be time for such later. “Understood.”
Turquoise waited as best she could, trembling with nervous energy, while Paladin Four slipped into the other half of the dungeon, likely to ask the rest of the prisoners if they would join them.
Paladin Four emerged again a short time later, without anyone else. The Paladin showed no expression at the apparent rejection. “Alright, let’s move.”
Following without question, Turquoise stuck close to the Paladin as she led the way along through the depths of the castle. Bare stone gave way to crystal that shimmered faintly in the late hour as they ascended a staircase. They passed a pair of guards, also unconscious, slumped beneath a watercolor landscape painting. Her Paladin companion was certainly in her element, and far be it from Turquoise to break the cautious silence as Paladin Four peeked around the corner ahead.
Once more beckoned along, Turquoise followed down more corridors until they came to an unguarded window leading outside, already cracked open. Reaching for her side, Paladin Four pulled out a small wand from somewhere, carved ornately from wood and stained golden.
“What’s that for?” Turquoise asked as Paladin Four helped carry her over the threshold.
Paladin Four elegantly climbed through after her before explaining. “Long-distance teleportation. Saint Twilight set up an anchor for all of us, but the castle’s wards would have detected and tracked it if I did so while we were inside.”
Teleportation? That was impossible with runes—
Then it clicked, and confusion gave way to astonishment. “Wait, Saint Twilight did?” As in, personally?
Before Turquoise could ponder the implications of this any further, Paladin Four waved the wand, and Turquoise was blinded by a flash of light.
When the stars faded from her vision, they were abruptly standing in the interior of a large building. Bright white lines of light were spaced uniformly apart on the ceiling, obviously magical in nature. The floor and ceiling were clear of dirt or debris, but stained, as if the wood and tile had been in a state of disrepair and only recently repaired. The interior walls had been knocked out at some point, leaving only support pillars. At the far ends of the space, glass walls which looked brand new kept out the cold night air. Beside them were unusual works of artifice she could not immediately discern the purpose of.
“Ah, hey, there you are!” somepony exclaimed.
Turquoise spun to face the source of the voice, her wheels squeaking on the polished floor, only to freeze in her tracks.
It was Saint Rainbow Dash.
That legendary mane was unmistakable. Another Paladin stood beside her, this one bearing the number two, though otherwise indistinguishable.
Turquoise choked on her own tongue. Could she be absolutely sure she was awake? Or maybe she’d been fed illicit hallucinogens?
“You remember where the altar is?” asked the literal, actual Saint standing right there. Her robes, imbued with shifting, holy light, added to the gravitas of her presence.
“Of course,” Paladin Four replied, her stance professional and unshifting.
“Great! You know what to do, so I’ll leave you to it,” said Saint Rainbow Dash. “We’re about to head out, but Pinkamena should be back soon.”
“I’m still not sure it’s the right call, going with this mare,” Paladin Two interjected, gesturing to Turquoise. Her voice was downright saccharine, compared to Four’s. But the way she held herself was more playful, and yet… it struck Turquoise as somehow forced.
Too many screws were spinning loose in Turquoise’s head; she could barely breathe, let alone analyze!
“She doesn’t seem like leadership material to me. Without the drive, the hunger…” Paladin Two trailed off with a shrug and a bow. “But it’s not my place to object. You and yours know what’s best for everyone, after all, my Saint.”
“Exactly,” Saint Rainbow Dash confirmed. “I hear you, but trust Pinkamena and Twilight, she’ll do great.”
She shot a winning smile at Turquoise, who was now very close to fainting on the spot. “Get excited! Big changes are coming! Oh, and nice to meet you by the way, Lady Turquoise.”
Saint Rainbow Dash knew her name. Saint Rainbow Dash knew her name.
Heart fluttering, the strength in her legs gave out and she bonelessly collapsed face first onto the floor.
Sensation returned slowly.
First came weight and touch, even as she remained groggy. Turquoise was lying on her stomach, feeling better than she had in a while.
Then came her consciousness and the memories of last night.
No, not memories. A dream, surely. She knew all that had been too good to be true. Paladins and Saints, a prison break? Of course she’d been dreaming. It had been a very vivid dream, certainly, but a dream nonetheless.
Forcing her eyes open, the blurs in front of her gradually sharpened into focus. Turquoise did not see the familiar bare wall of her cell. Instead, she was resting on a hard, silvery surface, and a translucent dome that had been covering her body was peeling itself away. Her hearing returned only to catch the tail end of the faint whirring noise accompanying the motion.
She recoiled in confusion, or tried to. Her body was still leaden with lethargy, as if she’d been sedated, but that was rapidly wearing off, cast off by the beginnings of panic.
After blinking repeatedly, Turquoise frantically looked about and discovered she was not alone; another pony was present. Despite having never met them before, the earth mare was unmistakable: pink coat, perfectly straight, hot pink mane and tail, with robes that shimmered like the northern lights.
“Hello there,” she calmly greeted.
There was only one conclusion Turquoise could reach from this. She hadn’t imagined last night’s events at all. It had all actually happened. Oh holy Diarchs above.
Scrambling onto four hooves, Turquoise leapt onto the floor, dipping her head in reverence. “S-Saint Pinkamena!” she exclaimed.
Saint Pinkamena, for her part, merely chuckled politely. “While your attention is appreciated, I believe you just skipped over something even more notable.”
When she did not elaborate, Turquoise looked up at the saint, only to see Pinkamena gesturing behind Turquoise with a hoof.
That was when it hit her. Whipping her head around to confirm, Turquoise’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t wearing her wheels. She was standing. Transfixed, she trotted in place a little before sending an awestruck gaze at Saint Pinkamena, who was now smiling.
“Acting through the Altar of Enlightenment, the Diarchs fully restored your spine and back legs,” she explained, motioning to the platform Turquoise had awoken within.
Joy filled Turquoise as her heart leapt, prancing in place a little as she stretched out all manner of kinks in her hind half. Atrophied muscles unused in ages burned in the best way, and Turquoise was lightheaded. She was so preoccupied savoring the ability to move freely again that she totally forgot to whom she was speaking.
With a squeak, she froze, but she could not prevent the questions suddenly roiling in her mind from bursting free. “Altar of Enlightenment? What exactly is that? And how did it heal me?”
“I will answer that. Can you hear me?” a different mare’s voice suddenly asked her.
Turquoise couldn’t pinpoint where the voice was coming from, but it sounded very close by. She’d heard about the incident when many ponies started hearing voices a few years back, and they’d been crazy, driven insane by demons. Was she going mad? “Y-Yes?” she tentatively answered.
“Good, everything is coming through to me in full,” the voice continued. “And before you ask, no, you’re not mad. Lady Turquoise, you have been granted a most wonderful gift. I am Twilight Sparkle. The altar’s main purpose is to allow those chosen to receive the wisdom of the Saints directly, communicated through me.”
As she struggled to process the magnitude of this fresh revelation, Saint Pinkamena smiled patiently. “It can be startling at first, but her presence by your side should be a comfort in due time,” she said.
Oh. Oh wow. “I-I don’t deserve such a miraculous blessing, my Saints,” Turquoise stuttered out.
“That’s not true; we chose you,” Saint Pinkamena insisted. She closed this distance between them and cupped Turquoise’s cheek in a hoof with all the tenderness of a mother with her child. She couldn’t look away from the Saint’s kind blue eyes. “Eventually, we hope to enlighten all ponykind. But few in number are the ponies worthy enough to help bring that hope to fruition.”
“Lady Turquoise, Knight who bears my Mark, will you join me in taking charge of this sacred task?” Pinkamena asked.
Tears began to flow down her cheeks as all of her plugged up emotions, all of her shame and disbelief, boiled over, replaced by clarity and elation. After all her trials and tribulations, Turquoise’s commitment to scripture was being repaid beyond expectations. Truly, this made the restoration of her spine seem almost paltry!
“Y-Yes, of course!” Turquoise dipped down to her knees in supplication, shaking as she pressed her muzzle to the tiles. “It would be my greatest honor to serve at your side!”
“Thank you, but you need not dirty your face against the floor on my behalf. Show your allegiance with these instead,” Saint Pinkamena said.
Picking herself up obediently, Turquoise saw that her Saint was holding a set of folded pink robes out to her. Terrible understanding dawned.
She was naked. In front of Pinkamena herself!
Seeing the fresh panic on her face, Saint Pinkamena hummed softly. “Do not be ashamed. The Altar requires ponies to bare themselves fully to the Diarchs, so we removed and discarded your prisoner’s clothes.”
Sighing in relief, though still extremely embarrassed, Turquoise took the set of Jubilant robes and donned them on the spot as quickly as she was able. Her rear legs were stiff with disuse, but she managed.
Yet that was far from the main focus of her thoughts as she dressed. She’d accepted the honor without question, but did she truly deserve it, now, after everything she’d been through? Maybe Paladin Two had been right, before? Best to confess openly, admit her faults without the Saints needing to ask.
Taking a deep breath, more than ready to face whatever may come, Turquoise met Saint Pinkamena’s eyes. “I must confess… surrounded by heresy as I was, and after everything that’s happened, I was beginning to doubt.”
This was a gross understatement, utterly inadequate to describe her months of turmoil, yet it had to be enough.
“But never again. I now see the whole breadth of the church’s merciful glory laid out before me, embodied in you and your Paladins. Like them, I shall cast all else aside, and devote myself wholly and completely to carrying out your divine will,” she declared.
“You have my gratitude for your commitment, and forgive you for your doubts,” Saint Pinkimena said, in a tone carrying boundless compassion. “Now rise anew, my Knight. There is much work to be done.”
