The Successors: Chapter 16

They couldn’t refuse.  Silently, together, Blue and Summer walked through the gateway.

On the morning when the Equestrian diplomatic party first crossed over the Drackenridge Mountains, the air was brisk and cool, a light sprinkle of snow fell gently from above, and occasionally a sharp breeze would blow down from the mountains to the north.  The sky was overcast calm, the atmosphere eerily still and quiet, as though all nature were resting, gathering her strength for a heavy storm.  And indeed, by mid-morning, the puffy white clouds had turned dark, twisting and roiling overhead as the gentle snow fell thicker and faster, and the occasional winds blew faster, and grew fierce and biting.

Aurora shivered.  Having refused to take the sky chariot again (once had been more than enough), she had elected to travel north on hoof with the rest of the Equestrian ambassadors.  The journey had not been a lengthy, arduous one, as Aurora had feared it might be.  Once they had made it over the Pronghorn Pass, their descent into the foothills was a pleasant downhill stroll through thick evergreen woods, with the trail broken here and there by rushing white streams.  Once they were out of the forest, the land opened into a wide valley, sloping upwards into craggy peaks in the west and extending across snow-covered plains to the sea in the east.  Immediately to the northeast, adjacent to the coast and not more than a morning’s walk ahead, loomed a huge, dark mountain, the last and largest in a chain of snowy peaks that dominated the northern horizon.  Even from miles away, Aurora could make out the fortress of Gloomhold, vast and menacing, carved right into the mountainside, overlooking both the valley and the cold, gray sea.  A tiny, winding path led up from the valley floor to the castle’s great wooden gates.

“Yes, quite a piece of work, isn’t it?” said Lord Stargazer, gazing across the valley at the seaside fortress.  He threw a sideways glance in Aurora’s direction.  “Not too intimidating, is it, your highness?”

Aurora snorted, and tugged the hood of her thick, blue cloak over her head.  Besides the princess, the diplomatic party consisted of just five ponies: two were elegant, well-dressed nobles, experts in diplomacy and economics, neither of whom Aurora especially cared for; two were aides, personal assistants of somewhat lower rank, both of whom Aurora rather liked; and then there was Stargazer, and his ego, and his smug, self-important smirk.

“No,” Aurora answered him coldly.  “Not intimidating at all.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie.  The fortress was indeed imposing, but Aurora stubbornly refused to let herself feel fear; she couldn’t look weak or inept, not in front of Stargazer.  She had to show him that she could take care of herself.  When Glass Eye had finally convinced the Council to allow Aurora to accompany the mission, they had clamored for an armed escort, dozens of guards and soldiers to keep their inexperienced princess out of harm’s way.  Then Lord Stargazer had volunteered to accompany her as well, and, needless to say, the additional security had been deemed unnecessary.

Aurora grimaced, striding against the wind towards Gloomhold in the distance.  They were trotting along a dirt-and-gravel road, mostly free of snow and debris, which looked like it hadn’t seen much traffic in decades.  Stargazer followed close beside her.

“Excellent!  I expected nothing less,” he said.  “In fact, I quite admire your bravery, Princess,” he continued.  “No other magic-user with your level of experience would have the confidence, nay, the bravado to hold her head so high, given the circumstances.”

“I can take care of myself,” Aurora insisted sternly.  She walked on, not even bothering to look in his direction.  “I told you, I’ve got a grip on combat magic now.  I know how to access my power.  I just….”  She trailed off.  In her mind, she could hear her sister’s frightened voice echoing through the forest, she could see Corona’s injured form lying helpless on the swampy ground of the Everfree.  She closed her eyes and shook her head, and the memories faded.

“I just need the right motivation,” she said at last, opening her eyes again and glaring up at the mountain with grim purpose.  “And if my sister is up there, then I’ll find it.  I know I will.”

“With respect, your highness, you haven’t got a grip on anything.”  All traces of playful sarcasm had vanished from Stargazer’s voice; he was all business again, all cold condescension and disapproval.  “Relying on your emotions to power your magic is a dangerous, exhausting, and foalish technique.  It’s the first thing young unicorns are taught never to do in magic kindergarten.”

“Then what do you suggest I do?” she asked fiercely.  “Months of hard work and training got me nowhere.  Now I finally unlock my potential, and you tell me I shouldn’t use it?  How am I ever supposed to be good enough, then?”

Stargazer simply flashed her a grin.  “Oh, just keep your nose to the old grindstone, your highness, and I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it – eventually,” he said, though there was a cold shard of doubt in his voice.  The stiff wind tossed his golden mane in front of his face and rustled his elegant purple cape.  “Until then… well, that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it, Princess?”

His message was written plainly on his face, in his words, and in his tone of voice.  He was here as her foalsitter.  That’s the only reason she was allowed to tag along in the first place.

Aurora sighed and turned away, ignoring him, instead fixing her gaze on the path ahead.  Stargazer huffed, and then continued trotting along at her side.  Several paces behind them, the two ambassadors shared a bemused glance, but said nothing; their aides, both carrying heavy baggage on their tired backs, rolled their eyes and marched on in silence.

The road led on for miles across the valley.  The wide plain was nearly a frozen wasteland: a thick coat of snow lay everywhere, chunks of ice floated through fast-running streams, and occasional patches of evergreens were all dusted with white.  They encountered no armies or border guards; the only deterrent was the weather, which seemed to grow wilder and fiercer as the morning wore on.  As the path sloped upward, they could look back and see dozens of tiny villages dotting the snowy landscape, and thin, black trails of warm smoke rising from chimneys.  But soon the snow was falling thick and heavy, and the wide vista was obscured by the blustering white that blew down from high in the mountains.

At last they reached the foot of the mountain.  The winding, rock-strewn trail led upwards along a high ridge, and far below, a small alcove between the arms of the mountain offered shelter from the stormy weather.  Aurora caught a faint whiff of smoke in the air and stopped, looking down the ridge and spying the remains of a small village nestled against the mountainside.  About a dozen circular brick cottages stood, charred and roofless, with burnt timbers and abandoned farming implements strewn all about.  The snowfall had mostly extinguished the fires, but a few faint plumes of smoke still drifted up into the air.

“What happened here?” said Aurora.  “An accident?”

Stargazer stopped at the princess’s side and magically conjured up a pair of binoculars.  “Most likely not,” he said, gazing down at the wrecked village with close scrutiny.  “Not unless a great many griffons accidentally fired a great many crossbows.  Have a look, your highness,” he added, offering Aurora a look.

The unicorn’s magic held the binoculars in place while Aurora peered through them.  Thick steel crossbow bolts were stuck into the remaining roof timbers, their small, silvery gleams still visible even through the snowstorm.  Signs of struggle lay everywhere: axes and pitchforks lay half-buried in the snow, and the presence of stray griffon feathers testified that there had once been many villagers dwelling there, but they were gone now.  The village had been purposefully destroyed.

“Who could do something like this?” Aurora asked, aghast.  She gazed up the mountain at Gloomhold, and its black stone walls and tall, jagged spires seemed to glare down at her menacingly.  Her voice fell to a horrified half-whisper.  “Who could do this to their own people?”

Stargazer cleared his throat.  “Well, your highness,” he said, voice dripping with condescension, “if King Blacktalon chooses to make an example of a single, small village, it’s entirely his prerogative.  It’s his kingdom, after all, and not yours.”

“No!  I don’t care who he is, no one has a right to treat anyone this way!”  Aurora’s face scrunched up into a scowl.  “Even if he hasn’t kidnapped my sister, I’ll have a few things to say to this Blacktalon.”

“You’ll say nothing at all about this,” Stargazer ordered, pausing only to dismiss the binoculars in a golden puff of magic.  “We are here – at least, ostensibly – to discuss diamond import rates, not to complain about practices that happen to offend our personal sensibilities.  Criticizing one’s allies is a hideous impropriety, and the griffons would never stand for it.  Do we really want them to think Equestria’s new Princess of the Night is an ill-mannered, ill-tempered, inconsiderate foal?”

The princess paused, stung by his words, and took a moment to wrestle with her thoughts.  As much as she loathed the shallowness and superficiality that ran rampant among Equestria’s elite, and wished that she could do away with all the glamour and pretense, she still worried over what those powerful, arrogant ponies might say if she didn’t live up to their standards.  She feared she might lose the kingdom for which the Elements of Harmony had made her responsible.  She feared that Equestria’s nobles would never accept her authority in their hearts the way they had accepted her predecessor’s.

But her predecessor wouldn’t care about any of that, Aurora reminded herself.  Princess Celestia loved her subjects even more than her own life.  Princess Celestia would want her to live up to the standards set by the Elements of Harmony, not the inane rules of decorum that Stargazer and the rest of the court seemed to follow.  Once already Aurora had bowed to her fear, when she had chosen to keep Ghost a secret in order to safeguard her image, and the guilt of her dishonesty had been gnawing at her insides for long enough.  Hadn’t she resolved to be the princess she was meant to be?  Hadn’t she resolved to prove her worth to herself, if to nopony else?  If she ever wanted to do that, she needed to get her priorities straight.

“It doesn’t matter,” she finally announced.  “It’s still wrong.  We should be upfront and honest, none of this absurd pomp.  When this is over, I’m cutting off relations with Gloomhold.  Equestria won’t do business with a kingdom that treats its subjects this way.”

“I say!” one of the ambassadors shouted over the wind.  She was Jade Lotus, a teal-coated unicorn with a fancy, elegantly-coifed purple mane that was currently being tousled by the harsh winds.  “I do beg your pardon, Princess, but might we get a move on?  This weather is simply abominable!”

“Indubitably!” said the other ambassador, a blue, gray-maned pegasus stallion with a finely-styled Trottingham moustache.  Aurora couldn’t remember his name at all.  “These are no conditions to hold an argument on the bare mountainside!  We must get indoors, at once!”

Stargazer grinned.  “They have a point, your highness,” he said, and offered the princess a slight bow.  “After you, of course.”

The princess paused for a moment to feel the wind, and understood.  The storm was still growing wilder, and the wind biting at her face and legs and every part of her that wasn’t covered by her cloak.  After casting one last sympathetic glance in the direction of the destroyed village, she turned and continued to trudge up the mountain path.  Just behind her, Lord Stargazer did the same.

“Though I will admit,” he muttered grimly, mostly to himself, “burning their own villages is a new feature for Gloomhold.  Still, we mustn’t judge.  Their business, not ours.”

The climb up the mountain path was harrowing.  The wind blew louder and stronger and faster, nearly becoming a gale, swirling about them and moaning in a loud, ghostly voice that sounded like a thousand timberwolves howling in unison.  Snow blew from all directions, blurring their vision and turning the entire view from the mountainside into a vast expanse of white.  Stargazer and Aurora lit their horns to provide guiding lanterns for the ambassadors and their aides, but the going was harder with every step.  By the time they reached the castle, the princess was freezing, exhausted, and fuming.

The wooden gates of Gloomhold were tall, thick, and covered in ornate iron decorations.  Frost and ice had formed over the doorway, appearing to seal it shut.  Aurora raised a hoof and pounded on them thrice, but even after a minute there was no response; the doors remained closed.

“Strange,” said Stargazer, raising his voice over the wind.  “They’ve known we were coming for weeks.  Surely, surely they wouldn’t deliberately insult us by shutting us out in the cold.”  He turned to Aurora, meeting her gaze with knowing eyes.  “Unless, of course, they have something to hide.”

Aurora frowned.  “Can you locate her at this range?”

“Well, your highness, I can certainly try.”  The unicorn lowered his head and let his eyes fall shut.  His horn began to glow with a slow, pulsating gold light.  When Aurora concentrated, she felt rippling waves of magic emanating from his horn.  Then she sensed them passing through her, through the rocky mountainside, through the wintry air, through the great wooden gates.  Ordinarily, a locator spell worked like an echo: waves would go out in all directions, and if the target object were in range, some of the waves would bounce off of it and return to the spellcaster.  But even after several seconds had passed, Aurora could not sense any of the waves returning.  Suddenly, Stargazer winced and reeled backwards, rubbing his pained head with a hoof.

“Much though it pains me to admit it,” Stargazer said at last, “No, I can’t locate her.  But she may yet be here.  There’s far too much background noise – perhaps some other force in the air causing interference.  Otherwise, of course, I’d be able to find our lost princess with no difficulty at all….”

Aurora’s frown deepened.  Corona was here, she knew it, and the spell’s failure only confirmed it for her.  “We need to get inside,” she said, deepening her voice and standing at full height.  Her cold eyes glared down at Stargazer.  “Open the doors,” she commanded.

“Princess, we can’t simply break open their gates!  It would be an unpardonable faux pas on our – ”

“Do it!”

There was a brief space of silence, and the princess and the magician regarded each other coolly.  There was a fierce authority in Aurora’s glaring eyes, and a quiet, burning resentment in Stargazer’s.  Then, at length, the unicorn heaved an exasperated sigh.  “As you wish, your highness.”

He closed his eyes again, took a deep breath, and concentrated.  As his horn began to glow, a golden light crept up from the ground and covered the great gates in its radiance, seeping into the seam between the two doors and burning through the frost and ice.  From inside the castle there resounded a thunderous clunk.  Stargazer swayed slightly on his legs, and then slowly, slowly, the doors began to creak open.

“Well,” said Stargazer, “congratulations, your highness.  We’ve now violated every rule of proper diplomacy.  For an encore, would you like me to tap dance on their banquet table and set fire to their tapestries?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Aurora said, and she brushed past him and walked inside.

The gates opened onto a long, wide room with stone floors and a high, arched ceiling supported by many columns.  There was no light, and no windows; torches hung on hooks along the walls and on the pillars, but none were lit.  Curiously, cautiously, the princess stepped forward into the shadows, and the other ponies followed close behind her.  Once safely inside, she took off her hood and shook herself, dislodging a great deal of snow that had settled on her back and neck.  Stargazer shut the gates behind them, and Aurora shivered; even though they were out of the wind, the air indoors was still well below freezing.

“Curious,” said Jade Lotus.  “Shouldn’t they already have a reception waiting for us?”

“Curious indeed,” said Stargazer.  He lit his horn like a lantern again, and a soft golden glow illuminated the hall.  It was empty, save for the five of them.  When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and tense, full of caution and suspicion.  “At the very least, one would think they’d have some guards at the gate.”

The two aides sat on the floor, panting and gasping for breath from having carried the ambassadors’ baggage all the way up the mountain.  Aurora cast a thankful, sympathetic smile in their direction, and then turned away to light the shadows with her own horn.  Silvery moonlight spilled across the dark stone floor, revealing spidery fingers of ice and frost that crawled over the stone tiles, up the walls, and around the columns.  She thought she could see something moving around in the shadows some distance away, but there wasn’t enough light.  She listened intently, and somewhere down the hall ahead of her, talons were clicking across the floor.

“Well, we certainly can’t hold negotiations with an empty castle,” the mustachioed ambassador said.  “Perhaps they’d rather we come back another time?”

Suddenly, a pair of eyes shone in Aurora’s light.  The princess nearly jumped.  A brown-feathered griffon stepped forward out of the shadows, small and scrawny and trembling nervously.

“Ahem – p-p-p-pardon me, but, but,” she stuttered, coughing, “you wouldn’t happen to be – *cough* – the ambassadors from Equestria, by any chance?”

“Ah!  At last!” Stargazer said, trotting over quickly to join Aurora.  “Indeed we are,” he answered the griffon, filling his voice with as much pompous charm as he could muster.  “And you have the honor of addressing Princess Aurora herself.  These are Ambassadors Marble Lotus and Sir Abacus Posh, and I am Lord Stargazer of the Arcane University.  We respectfully request an audience with His Majesty, King Ragnar Blacktalon.”

“Opinicus at your service, honored guests,” the griffon replied, bowing deeply.  “But, but I’m afraid – *cough* – I’m afraid that His Majesty King Blackatlon is no longer the king of Gloomhold.  If you like, however, I can – *cough* – I can take you to our queen.”

“Queen?” Aurora echoed.  “Well… yes, that’s fine,” she said, speaking before Stargazer could get another word in.  “Take us to see her, please.”

Opinicus coughed.  “At once, your highness.”  With that, she turned and began to trot away down the long, dark hall.  “My sincerest apologies for the long wait,” she said.  “Gloomhold has had a rather – *cough* – a rather hectic morning, and we’re still trying to get things back under control.”

As Aurora moved to follow her, she glanced back at the other members of her party.  Stargazer’s eyes met hers, and once again she could read his thoughts in the expression on his face: Watch your step.

The hall was indeed very dark, and completely empty save for the six ponies and one griffon.  Deep shadows gathered in dank corners, rows of tall pillars marched down endless corridors that vanished into the distant blackness, and here and there enormous thick coatings of ice covered the walls and floors as if they had been painted onto the stone by a giant brush.  In the dim light Aurora could see her breath frosting in front of her face, and she thought she could hear Jade Lotus’s teeth chattering behind her.  The griffon led them through the empty labyrinth of columns until at length they arrived at a pair of wooden doors set in a tall archway.

“The – *cough* – official meeting room, your highness,” Opinicus said with a bow.  Then she raised a trembling forelimb and pushed open the door on the right.  “Her Majesty, Queen Quila Warwing, awaits you within.”

Wordlessly, Aurora stepped forward, with Stargazer immediately behind her.  Inside was a round, high-roofed chamber with a great wooden table at the center.  Here, at last, some pale light streamed in through a single tall window placed at the center of the far wall.  All around the walls of the room were deep, shadowy alcoves, and in between them hung long tapestries and red banners bearing Gloomhold’s coat-of-arms.  A small handful of griffon officials were sitting and murmuring quietly, gathered around the center table, and they all went silent and stood respectfully at Aurora’s entrance.  Only one figure in the room remained seated: just in front of the window, the Queen of Gloomhold sat on a heavy granite throne.

The princess’s eyes widened at the sight.  Queen Warwing was a hippogriff, and a very young one by her appearance – probably even younger than Aurora herself.  She was dressed in full battle armor, including a grim, silver-plated helmet, as was customary among griffon royalty.  On a chain around her neck hung a small blue gem that seemed to sparkle and glow with a light of its own.  When the queen’s gaze fell upon the princess and her party, she smirked, but there was a distinct glint of unease in her eyes.  Briefly, she exchanged a glance with a black-coated pegasus, also clad in armor, who sat beside the throne.  He nodded to her, and she rose and cleared her throat.

“Welcome, honored guests,” she said, speaking in a young voice that was careful, measured, and slightly false, like an inexperienced actor reciting her lines.  “Am I addressing the delegation from Equestria?”

“That we are, Your Majesty,” Stargazer answered before Aurora could speak.  He stepped forward and bowed.  “I speak for her highness, Princess Aurora.  If we’ve arrived at an inconvenient time, you have our sincerest apologies.  But, hopefully, we can get our trade negotiations underway without any further delay.  Now, if I may beg Your Majesty’s momentary indulgence….”

While Stargazer spoke, rattling off a long train of formal salutations, Aurora kept her eyes on Quila’s face.  There was something in the queen’s expression that she recognized, a familiar look of worry that she knew well.  Though Quila’s beak was curled into a smug grin, her rose-colored eyes were full of trepidation and discomfort, and her face under her helmet seemed small and childlike; clearly she was not accustomed to sitting on that throne.  For a moment their gazes met, and at once Quila’s eyes darted nervously away.  Aurora frowned, furrowing her brow.  Outside the window, the storm raged on, the howling wind muffled but still audible even in the meeting room.

“…and Sir Abacus Posh, Canterlot’s Chief Minister of Commerce,” Stargazer concluded introducing the ambassadors.  Marble Lotus and Sir Abacus both stepped forward and offered the queen elegant, respectful bows.  “It is our purpose during this visit to reaffirm the goodwill between our two nations, and to discuss matters of some import regarding the trade of certain precious objects between Gloomhold and the treasuries of Equestria.”

“Yes.  Of course.  The diamond trade.”  Quila’s voice was still stiff and stilted.  “If – if it were at all possible,” she began, “might we – ahem – might we postpone our negotiations for a brief spell?  As you may have noticed, Gloomhold is in a state of some, er, some disarray at present, and we could use some more time to get things under control.”

“I assure you, Your Majesty,” Stargazer replied, “We understand.  Clearly your most honorable kingdom is undergoing a period of transition.”  He inclined his head slightly to the young queen.  “We are more than delighted to wait, if Your Majesty would be so kind as to provide for us a place to repose during the interim.  And please be assured that whatever arrangement is best for Gloomhold, works perfectly well for….”

Stargazer fell silent.  The whole room went dead silent, save for the sound of the wind.  It was as though everyone could sense it a second before they heard it: a piercing, earsplitting scream, like the high-pitched wail of a trumpet, coming at once from nowhere and everywhere, seeping into their minds, rattling them right down to their bones.  The griffons all started and looked about, chattering loudly, frightened and nervous, only to fall silent again an instant later when Aurora’s sharp voice cut through the air.

“She’s here.”

She knew that sound.  She had heard it before, three nights ago, when she had battled Somnambula in the Everfree Forest.  It was the unmistakable voice of that yellow bird.  She was here, somewhere.  Somnambula was here.  Her sister was here.

“Where is she?” she snarled, glaring up at Queen Warwing.  “Where are you keeping her?”

The queen drew back.  Her eyes were panicked, and her voice was shaky.  “I – I don’t know who you’re – ”

“Don’t lie to me!” Aurora shouted.  “I know she’s here somewhere.  Give her to me!  Now!”

Frantic, Quila turned to the pegasus at her side.  “Tempest!”

At the sound of his name, the pegasus spread his black wings and rose into air, flying in a rapid arc around the high, rounded ceiling.  On his signal, a dozen griffons suddenly emerged from the dark alcoves that lined the walls.  They were huge and burly, clad in clanking, shining black armor, and they carried long spears and heavy crossbows.  In an instant they had surrounded the Equestrians, hovering in the air above them and pointing their weapons squarely at Aurora and her party.  Tempest landed just behind the group and shut the meeting room’s huge doors with a resounding doom, trapping the ponies inside.

Aurora tensed up, preparing for a fight.  The noble ambassadors both let out startled yelps and grabbed their aides, cowering behind them like living shields.  The princess noted their behavior with disgust, but before she or anyone else could speak a word, another curious sound interrupted the scene.

It was Stargazer laughing.

“Of course, it does make sense,” he said with a low, haughty chuckle.  His head was bowed, his eyes gently shut.  “If Gloomhold captured both of Equestria’s princesses, they would have unlimited leverage over the most powerful kingdom in the world, but you didn’t want to tip your hand and risk a fight until you were certain that you had been found out.  You think like a warrior, Your Majesty, like a fine conqueror.”  His smile widened.  “But there’s one thing you neglected when you drew up your battle plan, one factor you didn’t take into consideration.”

He raised his head, and his eyes blazed with a golden light.  “Me.”

Light flashed from his horn, and a wind swirled around the room.  The griffon guards reeled back as their weapons were yanked out of their talons by an invisible force.  Dozens of spears and crossbows lifted into the air and turned back against their wielders, held in place by a magical aura of sparkling gold.  Stargazer’s eyes moved in a circle about the room, glaring with clear intent at each of the disarmed griffons.  One by one, the soldiers bowed their heads in surrender.

“Now,” the unicorn continued, turning back to the queen, “if you wouldn’t mind, Your Majesty, it would appear we have some new matters to discuss.  First of all, Princess Aurora’s….”

“Boreas… Caisias….”

Quila wasn’t listening.  Her eyes were shut, and with one trembling talon pressed against the pendant around her neck, she whispered a strange chant in a shaky voice.  A high-pitched ringing resounded in the meeting hall, and the glowing gem flashed with a spark of blue lightning.

“Thraskias… Aparctias….”

A stiff, swirling breeze rose in the room, far stronger than the one Stargazer’s magic had generated.  The howling of the wind outside grew in volume into a ferocious, animalistic frenzy.  Aurora winced as the frigid air bit at her, stinging her face with tiny particles of ice.  Stargazer dropped the griffons’ weapons, which fell clattering to the stone floor, and turned to focus his energies on the queen – but he was too late.

“Skeiron… Argestes!”

Behind the throne, the tall window shattered.  Icy air blew into the room with the force of a hurricane, swirling about and tearing the tapestries from the walls.  The wind howled deafeningly, and ice crept like spider-fingers over the floor and across the great table.  The griffons closest to the window were coated in frost instantly and fell, whimpering and shivering pitifully, crashing to the floor as they froze.  Amidst the chaos, Quila beat her wings, rose into the blustery wind and hovered directly over her throne, struggling with all her might to control the raging storm.

Aurora narrowed her eyes, fought against the wind, and began marching towards her.  All around her, griffons ran screaming, or stood rooted to the ground, their feet encased in solid ice.  The princess ignored them, keeping her eyes, and her thoughts, focused dead ahead.  Queen Warwing was the source of this madness, she was sure of it.  Queen Warwing was responsible for the cruelty and destruction she had seen.  Queen Warwing was the reason her sister had been taken from her.

Ghostly shapes began pouring in through the broken window.  Pale white, translucent, and howling like mad, they swirled through the air above the queen’s head.  Aurora recognized them at once: they were Windigos, the evil winter spirits of hatred and dissent that had nearly frozen Equestria’s founders countless centuries ago.  With her magical stone Quila held them in check, but only just barely; her willpower was weak and tired, and the overwhelming hatred was clearly too much for her to bear.  She was shivering from head to tail, eyes shut tightly, and frost was beginning to form on the tips of her wings.  All around the room, the ice that held the griffons to the ground was spreading over their bodies, trapping them forever as the uncontrolled spirits feasted upon their natural hate.

As Aurora strode slowly forward, a cold, rasping whisper grated against her ears.  After a second had passed, she recognized the voice: it was Lord Stargazer, muttering angrily to himself, barely audible over the howling wind.  The princess turned her head back, glimpsing the unicorn through the swirling snow.  Ice had rooted his hooves to the floor, and was crawling up his legs and back while he struggled to move, fuming and spitting harsh words into the air.  His voice was not loud, but the wind carried scattered bits of his ranting to her ears.

“Worthless, tactless little earth pony peasant… why would the Elements ever choose… I might’ve salvaged this mess if she hadn’t… then we wouldn’t all be….”

Aurora bristled.  Even in the midst of all this chaos, Stargazer’s words still stung her heart.  His pride, his contempt, his arrogance, his scornful disdain, everything she loathed and resented about him suddenly boiled up and forced itself to the forefront of her mind.  He was the polar opposite of Princess Celestia, a heartless elitist who cared nothing for anypony besides himself, living a life of pride and opulence and selfishness rather than kindness or honesty or generosity.  He and his ilk at court were hardly any better than the ruler of Gloomhold, who burned her own villages and attacked her own people.  The princess turned again to glare at the queen, her eyes burning with fury and disgust and hate….

By the time she noticed the ice creeping up her legs, it was too late – too late to change her heart, too late to let go of her anger, too late to move a single step.  She was stuck to the floor, feeling the cold touch of the Windigos’ deathly magic spreading across her body like an icy breath, freezing her tail, inching up her back, trapping her wings against her sides.  She squirmed, shook herself, fought with all her might, but there was nothing she could do.  The ice kept spreading.

Time slowed to a crawl.  The world spun.  Suddenly Aurora felt very small, and feeble.  Around her, the snowy wind howled and whirled in a chaotic merry-go-round, and griffons and ponies screamed and struggled and froze solid, and the queen hovered in mid-air above the throne, writhing and fighting desperately for control.  The princess closed her eyes tight and shut them all out.  As the growing ice reached the back of her neck, she felt tears gathering behind her eyes.  She wasn’t Princess Aurora anymore.  She was just Blue Moon again, and she was helpless and afraid and so choked with anger and hate that she couldn’t even breathe.

At that moment, a loud bang echoed from somewhere behind her, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood.  Another voice found her.  It sounded faint and distant, like a muffled shout carried on the wind, but she knew it.  She knew the voice the instant she heard it.  It was calling her name.

“Blue!”