Prologue: The day of Scars
The officer's wagon eased past a crowd of confused onlookers. Mares held the hands of their foals as they gawked at the shuddering machine. The lurching car let out a shrill blare from its horn and nudged bodies aside as forcefully as one could be without injury. The crowd continued to stare yet part like a school of lethargic fish with just enough instinct not to swim directly down a shark's throat.
The city guardsman behind the wheel cursed under his breath as he navigated a sea of Equis, most of them being Nobles of the Astral race or the rich family of one. He imagined some had already contacted their lawyers or powerful kin with their complaints. How dare he attempt to reach the Palace on an emergency call? Surely he could walk the entire 80 kilometers from the station to the capitol building. After all, why would Royal Square need police when they have military officers to keep the order?
"What use are these gold plated dimwits anyway?"
It was their snobbery that brought him out here in the first place. None of the pages had arrived, no phone calls answered. Their silence was so complete the Chief ordered an officer to drive down to the palace and personally find out what, or who, was out of order. More likely than not it was just the Guard putting cooperation with the police at an insultingly low priority. Nothing new.
Officer RavenCroft pressed his hoof onto the break and felt his wagon come to a reluctant stop. He could feel the pedal resist as he reached to touch an open hatch in the middle of his dashboard. His palm cupped the tip of a blunt cyan stone that extended well into the engine block. It quivered with a resonant hum that slowly died down under his touch. The stone went quiet and with it all resistance under his break petal.
He exited his vehicle and ignored the barks of some overweight unicorn attending a souvenir stand. The car overshadowed the older stallion's place of business yet he couldn't be bothered. Without meeting the older male's eye, RavenCroft unholstered a dense billy club from a belt around his thigh. With a tap to his hip the gunmetal cylinder came alive with a rumble. Jagged segments spread to expose whirring gears and lavender sparks of lightning dancing in between the lethal baton.
The unicorn and the mob behind him backed away. The ones that stood in front of Ravencroft parted to make a path to the sidewalk and a tall rod-iron fence.
The fence may as well be the border between past and present. Behind him, modern three-story buildings of brick and copper roof lined block after block while the land past the fence was wild grass and old-growth forest. Nestled within the trees was a massive longboat turned upside down and crafted into the main hall of Her majesty's palace. Around it were multiple towers with conical roofs and billowing flags at their apex. Industrial society across the street versus medieval grandeur behind kilometers of forest the every day citizen had no right visit.
RavenCroft turned onto a wide driveway that ended in a tall gate. Near it stood a brass tube that emerged from the ground and ended in a bugle shape roughly at muzzle height. Modem technology could carry a voice over kinetic wires, but the palace was a place that resisted change.
He leaned into the speaking tube and shouted his words.
"This is Officer RavenCroft of the CPD. Is everything okay there? We've been trying to contact the palace all day."
He waited for a few minutes before repeating himself. No response. He leaned away from the antiquated device and considered his next move. He seriously considered falsifying his report and ending his day. Sunset was a few hours away and it was Hard Cider night at Hiccup's Bar and Pool. He didn't get very far before hearing a giggle.
"Who the hell is this?"
Ravencroft shouted louder as his fist gripped the club tight. The giggle repeated itself perfectly, far too perfectly. It came off as a recording. It repeated with a subtle change. It almost sounded mournful, hollow.
A warm breeze flowed out of the tube that slowly rose in heat. A barely perceptible distortion formed within the hot air flowing out. He only stepped back when the air caught flame and the brass tube began to warp and shrivel like a dying sunflower.
He turned and ran back to his car where the heavyset unicorn stood with a scowl. The older male didn't have time to utter anything before The officer pushed him aside. His eyes were wide with panic and his hands shook. Ravencroft reached across his dashboard and opened his glove box to grab a phone receiver with a thick cord as long as his arm.
A faded pink mare in corset and dress attempted to walk in front of Ravencroft. In her eyes was all the indignant fury of a highborn Astral prepared to give the young male a piece of her mind. She managed a breathless bark as he shouldered her to the dusty cobblestones.
No one else attempted to confront his mad dash to a street light a few meters away. His left hand groped along the poll for a hexagonal port. Once he found it he stabbed the other end of the cable inside. A hexagonal Jack locked into place within the pole. Small, nearly imperceptible gears meshed with others inside the recess. The chord quivered and hardened as small mechanisms made a solid chain of action and reaction from receiver to an underground network of kinetic cable.
"CPD, who's speaking?"
A flat and disinterred voice came from the earpiece, the tone being a tinny and imperfect recreation of the mare on the other side.
"I need every officer east of the Palace District. Alert the Princess and her knights immediately.
"Hold on, Raven? Is this some sort of practical joke because if it-"
RavenCroft was suddenly distracted. Everyone was suddenly distracted. If the operator said anything else then he didn't hear it. The sky was flickering. Blue sky quickly replaced by black smoke. Just seconds at a time, a separate reality presented itself beyond the Queen's gate. For a moment the crowd could see guards with armor ripped off their bodies. One walked in a daze with a deep slash across his forehead. One crawled on the ground with claw marks down his back. In the very next moment all anyone saw was the gentle sway of treetops, all they could hear was birdsong.
The illusion finally broke. Panic spread and citizens scattered in every direction. Ravencroft was the only one to stand still. A hefty stallion ran headlong into him and bounced off as if the officer was rooted into the ground. He could feel his hooves gripping the street and his body rigid.
The smell of ash and the sickly yellow of the sky suddenly appeared and yet his senses were not shocked. On a primal level he realized that smell was floating in the air all along. The clear day, the peace of a banal morning was a lie made by something powerful. A magic only his Queen possessed.
The palace turrets were glowing with flame and spouting smoke as centuries-old pictures and furniture were reduced to ashes. Only the main hall remained, yet the right half of its large form collapsed and all the windows were broken.
High above the destruction was a figure that showed bright against the black smoke. Its wings spread out like a white bat effortlessly hovering on updrafts generated by fire. It wore a crown of nine horns. One spired from its forehead, two pointed backwards, four were short jagged spikes, and two curved like an ox.
The figure grew clearer as it sailed over the blood and misery below it. It was undeniably female. In its arms was something almost as big as herself. The shape was swaddled by a blanket that billowed unnaturally. It had no gravity, most likely a spell cast by the female figure.
It came paces away from him and landed with a dancer's grace. One taloned foot extended and met the cobblestones. The other foot followed in a smooth transition from flight to accentuated step.
Between her horns were feathers that displayed a rainbow of pastel colors. Her eyes were ocean blue. Her feathers are pure white. Her short doe-like cervine muzzle was femine and handsome. In another world she could be the dragon incarnation of his own Queen.
The tall dragon leaned down and placed the covered shape at Ravencroft's hooves. A cold chill took him over when he finally noticed crimson slowly spreading in multiple points through the fabric.
"Hello, my little pony."
For such an imposing presence her voice had the wise and motherly tenor of Queen Celestia herself. Ravencroft could smell the Iron of blood and the weak moans of this creature's victim and still that tone sought to assure him all was well. His stomach went sour, his legs grew weak. Not since he was a foal did he know fear like this.
A heavy metallic thud made his eyes twitch to the side. Some bipedal thing had landed on the rod iron fence and crouched like a gargoyle where its feet warped the metal. Blackened Draconic bones wreathed in pink flames looked him in the eye like a vulture to a dying lamb. The feminine shape and color resembled a famous Equis, one of the first Mundanes to be granted knighthood. Lady Pie, or some mockery of her, quivered with nervous energy as it let out that famillair hollow laughter.
A gentle touch to his cheek made RavenCroft focus back on the tall white dragon. It almost felt comforting before the wet sting of a razor thin cut began to bleed down his neck.
"Never mind her. None of my servants will bring you harm. You will be the messenger of my sincerity and my mercy."
The white figure stepped back two paces as her leathery wings rose high. With one swift motion her wings came down with such a force the nearby crowd was blown off their feet. Ravencroft's Mundane instincts kicked in instantly. His hooves pulled at the cobbles below him and braced against the rush.
The entire surreal situation left him feeling numb, distant. Even as the screams began his focus was on the form at his feet. The gust of wind blew the sheet away from a face he knew all too well, one on every coin in his pocket. The sun marking along her forehead was crossed out with a deep red slash. Her prismatic pastel hair was matted against her face with blood.
Ravencroft lifted his queen and carried her along the street. Blood soaked his uniform from two wounds in her back. Blood dripped from a limp arm where small sunburst symbols were crossed out. He didn't pay attention to a skeletal dragon wreathed in white flames as it slashed a fat unicorn's face with a single swipe. He didn't turn his head as a Pegasus was forced onto his stomach by a lavender monster. How the Pegasus's shirt was ripped clean off his body before claws ran over the twin musical notes depicted on his shoulder blades.
He wouldn't be harmed, that's what she promised.